Sinusoid

Aeolia steps out of a building while talking to a reddish stallion. “Honestly, I thought that Hoofington was an unlikely place for a facility like this. But when I heard you were working here, I figured I might, ya know, come see it while I was still in southern Equestria.” “Hey, at least it’s better than happened in Whinnyapolis,” the stallion chuckles. “I know,” the monochrome mare replies, “I can’t believe that I tho—“ She cuts off as her gaze captures the commotion coming from within the town. “I’m gonna... leave for a minute,” she says distractedly before cantering away toward the town center. The stallion sighs reminiscently, “she hasn’t changed a bit.” Aeolia approaches the crater surrounded by ponies with extreme caution, being careful not to be noticed. She was not expecting the dust to be dispersed, and is mildly startled when the vortex spell is used.

Dorian does not respond as he watches the large feline leave. "That was unusual. No one has ever apologized for distirbing me before." He gives a panning glance at the space around himself. "Nun, kio horo estas?" He looks at his watch. "Oh, I should leave." He puts his device in his pocket, mounts his unicycle, and rides away. ~ Several minutes into riding back, Dorian suddenly stops, pulls the hood off of his face, and perks his ears. After a few seconds of motionless listening, he illuminates his horn, forming a pale grey dome of light around it, directing air movement to amplify far sounds. "Is that... gunfire?..."

Dorian looks at the extended paw for a moment, then hesitantly shakes it with almost no force. Realizing that he was indirectly asked to give his name, he begins to frantically think of possible responses. Following a frequent tactic of his, he releases a very low and quiet series of sounds, which could be recognized as speech, but are completely void of meaning.

Dorian looks up sharply from his work as he hears the presence of another. He replies almost reflexively, in a very soft voice, "Oh, hello... uh..." He trails off. "La sorĉisto estas kato," he whispers to himself. He tries to audibly say something, but fails. "I... uh..." He uses his magic to pull the hood further over his face.

Outside, in the cold evening as it became increasingly lonesome, Dorian turned around a corner on a unicycle, a small amount of his white fur shining from under the hooded dark grey cloak that covered most of his body. As it would normally be a strange thing to see, he would come out only at night to do a routine ride, to allow him to think intensively about things that would normally be distracting. Also, in nearly complete darkness, it would give an unsettling floating appearence that he somewhat enjoyed. "Transitive verbs... what am I supposed to do about transitive verbs... there must be a marker of some kind... Can I use a glottal stop to signify a place holder? ʔo, ko etuʔo, ko mɑɹʃuʔo... no, that would allow for ambiguity with the diphthong separation..." His quiet, deep voice was completely inaudible as he worked out the difficultly technical parts of the grammar of language. Tired of too much thought, he unmounted his unicycle, hiding behind a tree, and pulled out a digital notepad out of one of his pockets to write down his thoughts.

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I have been reluctant to reply to this topic because I do not really know what you want to be composed, but I think that I can write something. What do you exactly mean by "broadway style?"

I play clarinet (soprano to bass), saxophone (soprano to baritone), recorder* (sopranino to tenor) tuba, euphonium, and keyboard instruments. I also have skill in audio editing and musical composition and arrangement, which means that I can help with organization by arranging MIDI files for the ensemble. *The recorder is not only a beginner's instrument. A great selection of MIDI files can be found at http://www.weimtime.org/midis, which I can use as bases for ensemble arrangements, like my arrangement or Rainbow Factory: https://www.noteflight.com/scores/view/8f839104d61c17722a4d0ce8cbd6b0ba631f2ba7. I believe, if we accredit the owners, and because this is a non-profit project, that this should adhere to copyright law. For synchronization, I agree with the use of a cue track, and For tuning, I suggest that everyone would tune to a constant electronically generated frequency, usually A at 110, 220, 440, and 880 hertz. I am quite interested in a project like this, and would love to participate.

371,814 What is CTAM? There are too many meanings for that abbreviation. Oh wait. Count to a million. Sorry.

371,812 Imagine the ridiculous portion of server storage that is occupied by this game. Possibly even more than all of the pictures of Flutershy.

As the two ponies run, Fracture looks back to see that the manticore had disappeared, and says, "Sinu, stop; it's gone." Sinusoid stops quickly and looks back; "I'm glad..." He says while breathing somewhat heavily, "We should go back there... to investigate... something is quite definitely not normal... and I suppose that something suspicious is happening in that warehouse." Sinusoid begins to trot back to the warehouse without waiting for a response. "Uh... yeah... sure..." Fracture replies, reluctantly following. Sinusoid leers through the window, carefully preparing to defend himself.

Sinusoid stares at the manticore, silent and unmoving, shocked by his complete lack of understanding to how this had been accomplished. Fracture says, "Well, THAT'S a good way to change things up a little." Sinusoid manages to say timidly, "We should go away." He tries to sneak away slowly, but seeing that this does not work, he breaks to a gallop in the opposite direction. Fracture follows; "We should follow them." He points to where Buzz and Hits went, and they go along that path. "I think that this should be all right, 'cause we saw them do that... thing." "Agreed," Sinusoid says heavily.

At the exact moment that Sinusoid sees the robot's guns, for his fear of them, he jumps and immediately hides behind a corner. Fracture reacts to Sinusoid's movement and follows, just barely evading the stream of bullets, one of them taking a clump of hair out of his tail. Having prepared for a situation like this, Sinusoid initiates another one of his original magic spells. He uses telekenesis to pull all air away from the robot, restricting the oxygen supply to the chambers of its guns, rendering them unable to fire.

Sinusoid quietly says to Fracture as he looks throug the window, "I's clear that she's not working on a fashon line... wait... are those..." He stops and quickly turns away from the window as the door opens, looking at the robotic pony. Fracture says, "Wow. I'm not sure what to say here, but that's a nice robot." "If it tries to harm me, I will steal it. Please give me the wrench." "Yeah, sure," Fracture says, and reaches into one of his boots and gives the wrench to Sinusoid.

Sinusoid mentally scoffs at the word "fashon," which he finds superficial and impractical. He listens more carefully, and when Shifter leaves, he says to Fracture, "She said 'have a good night...' That's strange, considering that it's not night yet, which makes it suspicious that she warned us of 'lunatics...'" "She seemed unusually friendly," Fracture replies. "Why would anyone design a fashon line in a warehouse? It's a great idea, but is seems suspect in combination with that... notion." Sinusoid walks to one of the building's windows and carefully looks inside.

Sinusoid quickly looks at Shifter and tries to respond, "Wh... I..." before Fracture talks for him; "I don't understand what WE did, or how we could be so distracting from out here. What are you doing in that warehouse, anyway?" Sinusoid looks away and lowers his head, as he usually does when Fracture asks superfluous questions.

Sinusoid sighs and replies aspiratedly, in short bursts of words separated by long silences; "That... wasnottheanswerthatIwaslookingfor... but... it's... completelyfigurable..." He pauses for a moment and says, "Okay, I'm leaving now," before jumping off of the warehouse, landing on his hooves but immediately collapsing onto his face. His tone stays as flat as always as he weakly says, "Ow... I seem to have made a minor miscalculation." Fracture, upon hearing the impact, immediately gallops to Sinusoid; "You all right?" "I'm perfectly fine." He stands, his glasses askew; "Well, almost perfectly fine; my face hurts and I look like a idiot." He pauses momentarily; "I recognize the white pony up there... I think that we went to high school together, but I never said much or anything to him."

Sinusoid prevents himself from saying, "Wow, that is shockingly immature," and instead replies, "Oh... okay." "Sinu? What is it?" Fracture calls from below. Sinusoid turns around and explains the situation to Fracture, using his magic to funnel the sound of his voice and make it inaudible to two near ponies. He turns again to ask them, "Why?"

Fracture, a dark gray earth pony with a black mane and utilitarian rubber boots, leisurely trots with his friend, Sinusoid, a taller and thinner, almost entirely white unicorn with ice blue stripes in his mane, wearing a light gray gargo vest. Sinusoid continues, "... That song that I'm currently writing, the one with the flute, does it make you feel sentimental?" Fracture replies, "Now that ya mention it, it does, like that one night when you were smiling the whole time." This is notable because, with the exception of his subtle reaction to humor, Sinusoid almost never smiles, and usually speaks in monotone. "That was indeed very great. I lov-" "What's that noise?" Fracture interrupts. "Some one is calling for help... It seems to be coming from the roof of that warehouse... I'll climb it, as a relatively low structure." Sinusoid was good at climbing metal bars, as he would help Fracture with repairs to his oil extraction towers due to his lower weight. He gallops to the warehouse and climbs to the top in fifteen seconds, then stops as he sees who was yelling. He looks at Buzz and Hits strangely and asks, "What are you doing?"

I'm assuming that his name originates from the hydrogen isotope 2H, often known as deuterium, as he has a sister named Tritium, the isotope 3H. Why is this?