Jazz Sonata

By Plume

• April 27, 2014




Age: 16-20

Gender: Female

Species: Pegasus

Appearance: Jazzy has a mane that is black and long, and cascades down one side of her face, often covering one eye. It has a couple of little curls and kinks in its length, but is generally relatively smooth. It's always clean and in order even though Jazz doesn't really try to keep it that way. Her tail is basically the same. She has warm amber eyes, similar to the colour of the sun on a hot Summer's day. Her coat is a light, pale gray, and she is slim and petite. However, don't let that fool you - Jazz is a lot stronger then she looks.

Cutie Mark: An upside down treble clef joined to a bass clef, making the rough shape of a heart. It symbolises her love for music and talent at playing various instruments.

Personality: Jazz is, put simply, a quiet one. She is a mare of few words, and says little out of choice but picks her words carefully. Because of this choice to not speak, she always seems to be closed off and distant, even occasionally going so far as to come off as cold to some ponies. She tends to find crowds a little overwhelming, preferring the company of either a few select ponies or just that of herself - she is her own best friend. This is mainly because Jazz has always found it difficult to find and keep friends, no matter how hard she tries. Most ponies never try to get to know her since she is just so hard to approach. She has always wanted to find that one special some pony to finish her duet, but is just too scared of getting hurt to try. She enjoys flying and spending time in the sky, as that is where she finds her personal solace. No pony can disturb you up there. She is, however, a very kind soul, and is always willing to be the shoulder to cry one when someone needs it. She's also pretty quick to forgive and/or forget. She is also an exceedingly musical pony. Music is her heart and soul, and the only time she can truly express herself the way she wants to.

Backstory: Jazz's parents were musicians. She had to get her musical talent from somewhere, and they were the ones who were the source. Ever since she could remember, there was always music around her. At home, she was playing music, watching her parents play music or listening to music. Music was literally what their family was built on, and was one of the most important foundations of their household. <br /><br />However, due to this musical background, Jazz's parents were always on the move. The only time she spent with them was when she was young, as they were never at home, and she always spent her time with her grandparents in Ponyville. Not that that was a bad thing, it was just that the little filly who just wanted a home never got one. The final memory she actually clearly has of her mother was nothing but the feeling of her mother's hooves gently giving her head a small pat. It hurt the young foal to have nothing of the figures that every other foal in her class claimed was their world. Even though it was not a big deal to anyone else, little Jazz never felt like she fit in. Every time she saw other parents come pick up their children, it saddened her that she would never have anyone do the same for her.<br /><br />Maybe it would have been better if her parents remembered her birthday, called to say hello or goodnight or even just wrote the occasional letter. But she never got anything. For the first year, she prayed. For the second, hoped. And for the rest, didn't expect anything. She knew they would never go so far as to even acknowledge her as their child, so why did it still hurt so much? Eventually, she just closed herself off. The two figures that should have been the most important in her life didn't remember her, so she just made herself forgettable to numb the pain. After all, with such a normal daughter, it couldn't be their fault that they forgot about her. <br /><br />One day, she finally managed to gather up the courage to go into the one room which held all she had of her parents - their studio. Going in for the first time was like a slap in the face to Jazz. It was so empty without her two parents to fill the room with laughter and music. Sighing, she moved over to her father's guitar rack, pulling one out and just stroking it as she remembered her father pressing her hooves to the strings and teaching her how to play. With a soft smile, she pulled it into her lap and gave it another strum, the nostalgia flooding her being. With the sound resonating in the room, it was almost like they were there with her. Realising that the music filled the void inside her, she began to play, and found that she just... could. After hitting the final note of one of her mother's compositions, little Jazz found a cutie mark on her flank that was not there before, and smiled. <br /><br />Maybe, just maybe, she could finally make her parents realise that they still had a daughter, and she was just like them.