Wolfe

Private Room for Rent (SoL Adv. RP)

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@@Kay Dreamer@@Scribblegroove,

 

Anala smiled at Kay's reply. Before she could get a word in, she heard Java's voice announcing the performer - none other than Scribblegroove!

 

"Good luck up there!" she told Scribblegroove as he went up onto the stage.

 

As she sipped the last of her coffee, Anala was becoming more and more excited by the second. After the announcements were over, Scribblegrove began to perform.

 

The first tune had a relaxing vibe to it, even though it was sort of quick.

 

'Quick and relaxing? How is that even possible?'

 

Anala decided it was too trivial a question to dwell on. After all, there was Scribblegroove up there performing with all his heart and soul.

 

The second tune proved to be just as mind-boggling. It started off with minor keys, combined with a quick, boppy tempo, which made it sound like a... what was the word... 'negative' piece of music. It reminded her of the theme song accompanying the various villain characters in the Walt Disneigh movies Anala watched as a filly. However, less than a minute in, the tune became a more happy one.

 

'You certainly selected a good compilation, Scribbs. I bet the next one will be a smashing conclusion. Erm, I don't mean that in a bad way.'

 

The third and final tune, which Scribblegroove was using his magical ability to play, had a more relaxing tone to it. Anala's mind constructed a picture of a lush spring meadow. Colourful flowers... perfect trees... singing birds... magnifying glasses... wait, what?

 

Anala's eyes went as wide as dinner plates as she recognised the music.

 

It was the tune Scribblegroove had played for Anala, Kay, and two other ponies when they had first met. Not that Anala didn't think about the adventure at least twice every day, but the music really brought her back to the breathtaking adventure, the friendship formed between she and four other ponies... Anala had completely snapped at Blaze after the stallion had inadvertently reduced them all to "the size of ladybugs", as Ka Dreamer had put it, but now, she wanted to thank Blaze. If not for him, their journey would never have seen the light of day, and she never would have gotten to know Kay, Scribblegroove, Blaze, and Number Cruncher.

 

Anala applauded and cheered, trying to be louder than everypony else. Getting over-enthusiastic, she galloped onto the stage.

 

"There you have it, everypony!" she announced loudly. "Now you know how awesome Scribblegroove is!"

 

"I'd like to give a big shout-out to P. Ale Blaze!" She rambled on about how "awesome" Blaze was. It was clear that she wasn't going to stop anytime soon; somepony was going to have to carry her off.

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Isle Cast

Isle Cast's distracted thoughts, and desperate quest for food unknowingly brought her to a place she hoped she'd never have to go again. By the time she recognised the graffiti, and the all too familiar vandalised sign of the Stallion's Club Bar. She knew she’d ventured too far into the depths of the West Bronc Suburbs. Already alarm bells chimed loudly in her head, and suppressed memories attempted to break their restraints. Memories she'd tried to bury a long time ago.

 

A typical sight, spotting a stallion lying slumped on his flank outside the door to the Stallion's Club. Seeing his helpless, pathetic form manifested a sense of confidence in Isle. And her shortening strides suddenly became confident once again, and she lifted her head with a renewed sense of purpose. She knew what had brought her to this part of the Bronc, she knew who had brought her here. This was no coincidence, she’d been headed this way the whole time, and just couldn’t bring herself to think about it. This confrontation had been delayed far too long, during the time she'd starved, shivered in the cold, and begged for bits they’d lived their life with no sense of wrong, despite all they’d done. She’d finally had enough, this was the last time she was going hungry for what they’d done to her.

 

She'd been young. Young and naive. The time she was recruited to help the weather team in Ponyville was the happiest moment of her life. She remembered the day so clearly, yet now the memory felt distant. She’d flown with her beloved companions for almost a year when in some cruel act of defiance to Isle's hopes and dreams, she was hit from the sky from a freak tornado accident. The fall broke her right wing, and left her near crippled. And it had taken many long weeks of rehabilitation before she could finally walk unassisted. The strain of her injury left her broken in more ways than one. Especially the news that she would be unable to fly again, which crushed her to the very core. You will never fly again. The words of the doctor cut Isle in a way her injury could not. From the day of her recovery, day to day existence had been dull, repetitive and Isle existed. Head low, hooves heavy, she worked as a gardener. The only Pegasus in the entire town to ever do the job, if she could even be considered a Pegasus any longer. For weeks she lived like this, attracting pitied looks from the comrades as they left on their weather missions, and the low hushed conversations of the townsfolk when they thought she wasn't looking. Her family were not much better; with their secret meetings in the late hours of night, and conversations abruptly finished as she entered the room. Isle could take it no longer, and by early sunrise the next day, her bags were packed.

 

She left for Manehatten without a word. No note, no farewells. Simply left, before boarding the train she cast one long, sorrowful look at Ponyville. Her last memory of her home. The Isle spun around, turning her back to the sight, and boarded the train for the last time...

 

Life in Manehatten had not been easy, especially in her condition. But at least here the ponies were busy, caught up in their lives to even notice her. She very rarely caught a pitiful look cast in her direction. Meeting him had been the most surprising thing, Isle’s sense of romance had died along with her right wing, but he brought life back to her. Soon she was laughing, and if not for the sling on her wing, and the prominent hitch in her stride, she was almost a mirror image of herself before the accident.

She’d never suspected any disloyalty between the two of them, until she saw it. Her life quickly plummeted back down into the abyss of which she had just risen. Except this time, the abyss was darker, and even deeper than before. He had connections, and with a single word to Isle’s employer Isle quickly found herself jobless, broken and abandoned on the streets of the Bronc.

Since then Isle had watch his progress, as he rose to prominence, making a name for himself amongst the population of Manehatten. What she had felt for him once, was now lost completely, and was twisted into malice. Now stumbling into the suburbs of where he lived, Isle realised more than ever was her desire to confront him. Ask him why. Why had he done this to her? And lead on by spite, and longing Isle trudged through the dark streets of the Bronc, headed for the residence of a certain, now Mayor, Trivia Zeal.

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@Kay Dreamer @Rainbow Eclipse @Wolfe

 

After receiving a large bottle of water Scribblegroove put it to his lips quickly and chugged down half of it at once. Sweating in the spotlights made him thirsty, and the fact that the pieces he played we're so fast that they could be physically exhausting at some times didn't really help that. He quickly paced back towards the piano as the audience stopped applauding. He put down the bottle of water behind one of the piano's legs and sat down on the stool again.

 

As he was preparing for his next piece he noticed Anala expressing her excitement with unbridled enthusiasm. Although she was making a little bit of a fool of herself in front of the rest of the audience, he appreciated her cheering. It was nice to know she was enjoying his pieces. He just hoped she would tone herself down before ponies would start to complain about her...

 

He look at the audience again, squinting his eyes slightly as he looked into the bright spotlights. "That last piece was one of my own, and sadly not yet a jazz classic, but I'm hoping someday..." he said jokingly. He then explained the rest of his performance the audience with a confident attitude. "I'm going to play a few more pieces of the same album, which I hope you'll enjoy. At the end I have a little surprise for all of you"

 

When it rains

Yet again he placed his hooves on the flawless white ivory, calming himself to retain utmost concentration. This piece might be the hardest he we going to play all night. It had multiple instruments he had to control and it was polymetrical, making it hard for him to optimalise his timing and focus on controlling the different instruments as one.

 

The piece started off quite peacefully, and not very special in comparison to his previous pieces, but the audience was up for a surprise, because once he shifted to 3/4th and introduced the melody a drumbeat on 4/4th erupted from his horn, changing the entire perspective on the music. Accompanied by the strange ensemble in the background it became a strangely coördinated chaos that slowly increased in intensity as Scribblegroove improvised more and more. A smile appeared on his face when everything turned out to go perfectly and he had reached the outro of his piece. He slowly lifted his hooves of the keys and anticipated the audiences applauding and cheers. In the meantime he grabbed the bottle of water again and took another drink.

 

Find me in your dreams

Starting off again with the piano, he had yet a other trick up his sleeve. Not only did he practice conjuring the sounds of all sorts of instruments, Scribblegroove also became quite adept on constructing new sounds. The strangely morphed sound of a guitar was one of them. The beauty of this one was that it could immerse perfectly with the sound of a piano, a instrument that usually didn't mix with anything. The guitar could hide within the sound of the piano, merely amplifying it rather than standing out on it's own. It could also sharpen and emerge from the ocean of noise that the piano could produce. All in all it was perfect for forming a duet with a piano.

 

The strength of this piece came from the synergy between the two instruments. Before Scribblegroove was merely trying to maintain the balance between all the different instruments, but now he could actually play around with the nuances of the two very different sounds. Since the song was slow and relatively easy, he could focus more on details and fine changes within the guitar's sound. He found it highly enjoyable, and he was certain that the audience would be very impressed with this display of skill and precision. Once it ended Scribblegroove realized that he had played two slow and melancholic pieces in a row. It was time for something more enervating and energizing. A malicious grin appeared on Scribbles face as a wonderful idea emerged in his mind.

 

Ring of life

Scribblegroove hadn't planned for this. He had initially chosen a different piece to perform, but the temptation to show off was just too great. He was about to start playing the hardest piece he had ever written. And he was far too excited about it. Fire flowed through his veins as he initiated the piece with a loud drumbeat, followed by a rather confusingly timed chord scheme. He grinned even wider as the piece progressed. He was on a roll, and the only few mistakes he slipped by could be passed away as 'artistic improvisation'. That was the good thing about being a jazz performer. As long as you sound confident while doing it, it will usually sound good. Though this didn't always apply, it was a good rule to live by if you knew what you were doing.

 

His hooves moved rapidly over the keys. Louder and louder, faster and faster, he pushed the piece to it's limits and exhausted his own body. With the fiery passion of a dragon he played at his highest potential. The music became a part of him as he immersed himself further into the piece. He started to breathe a little heavily and he started to sweat again. If he didn't do something he would start making too many mistakes. He cut the last solo short and finished the song before he lost concentration. A roar of excitement erupted from the audience as he leaned his head on top of the piano, his chest moving up and down in exhaustion.

 

Once he had recovered his breath a little he grabbed the bottle and drank the last bit of water. He looked at the audience and looked smiled. "Now in the spirit of jazz I would like to invite anypony up on stage here to play an improvisational duet with me. After all, jazz is best when shared. I'm certain that in a place like this there must be a few jazz musicians like myself. Come on up! I don't bite, and it's a little lonely up here all by myself."

 

This was his final act. After this he would get off the stage and leave it for somepony else to claim the audiences attention. He had seen this little trick work for many other performances, so he was quite confident that it would work again this time. He already knew one potential candidate, but he had also seen a few other familiar faces that were more than competent enough to put up a show with him.

 

He quickly glanced to Kay again, though he tried to do it unnoticed. He didn't want to make her think she had to come on stage. It could be anypony, and he didn't want her to think he needed her and force her to come up even though she didn't want to. On the other end, he did hope she would come up and play with him nonetheless. They hadn't really had the chance to do that before.

Edited by Scribblegroove

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Kay Dreamer stared in dismay as Anala took to the stage and began monologuing about their previous adventure. Leaning over the table, Kay delicately sniffed Anala's drink, but she could smell nothing but chocolate and cream. Thankfully Scribble had retaken the stage before she got out of hoof, and the performance continued despite the unexpected interruption. Shaking her head, Kay simply assumed it was simply part of Anala's boisterous nature.

 

Closing her eyes, Kay allowed her mind to float with the music Scribble played once again. She clapped softly during the first piece as the time signature blurred into polymeter, the two opposing beat patterns blending flawlessly with each other. The steady beat of the piece had her tapping a hoof, feeling as though she was relaxing somewhere very warm. The mood of the tune, with it's rhythm and close harmonies, was energetic and peaceful at the same time.

 

The text tune began in the same manner as the previous one ended, with a soft, flowing piano. Kay's ears flicked forward when she heard an odd timbre she didn't recognise; a warm, round sound, quite unlike any instruments she'd heard before. She could tell by the attack of each note that it was a pluck-stringed instrument. The closest she could think of would be like a large soft-strung lute, but the tone simply wasn't quite the same. She was fascinated, and swore she'd remember to ask Scribble about it. The tune itself was calming and soft, and Kay smiled along with it, enjoying the tranquility it inspired.

 

The final tune opened quickly and chaotically, and Kay was immediately intrigued. It was another of those tunes completely foreign to her. The chord progression seeming almost erratic, with little logic between each change. But the energy of the piece was undeniable, and as she followed the melody she began to hear how the chord progression complemented it perfectly. Then came more extremely 'odd' sounding instruments projected courtesy of Scribble's magic, flooding through Kay's mind as she drank in the sound of each of them. There was so much going on in this tune, so much to listen to all at once! The piece ended with all the energy it had begun with, dying away to a silent room before applause erupted around them.

 

Clapping with sincere amazement at the talent of her friend, Kay was caught unawares by his request for another pony to join him on stage until she noticed him glance her way. She froze mid-clap. 'What's he thinking? I don't know anything about this music!' was the first thought that hit her, but she quickly shook it away. 'Come now, Kay dreamer. You're a Royal Minstrel of the Crystal Empire. You have ears, do you not? Those ears will tell you what to play.' Smiling, she levitated the two wooden flutes she had brought in her saddlebag, along with a tambourine. She was unsure if she'd use them all, but she wanted them on hoof just in case. With that, she hopped up onto the stage and smiled nervously at the audience before nudging Scribble. "You planned this," she accused him jokingly, though the smile gave the hint that she didn't really mind.

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@@Kay Dreamer, @@Scribblegroove

 

"Okay, lady, that's enough," said a member of staff, escorting Anala off the stage.

 

The white mare sat back down with Kay. "Must've been that coffee," she joked. It was worth it just for that little thrill. To take her mind off the dark secret she was harbouring. "And don't think I didn't catch you sniffing at it - the stage gives me a very good view of this table, y'know?"

 

Anala paid close attention to the next piece that Scribblegroove played. She watched and listened intently as the two opposing beat patterns blended with one another rather than conflicting. She tapped her rear hoof on the floor in sync with the tempo of the music.

 

The next tune began in a similar way as the previous one had finished; with a soft, flowing piano. A warm sound was heard, and Anala couldn't decipher the instrument, but she did get the pervading sense that it was a pluck-stringed one. The closest she could think of would be sort of like a... what was that instrument called... oh, of course! A lute! The song was calm and relaxing, which would probably deter Anala from going up on stage uninvited again.

 

The start of the final tune was quite divergent from the ones before it - bouncy and chaotic. Yet another tune entirely foreign to her. The chord progression seeming almost erratic, with little logic between each change. Then came more extremely 'odd' sounding instruments projected courtesy of Scribble's magic. Anala still had no idea what they were. Not that she had ever been an expert on music. There were plenty of instruments playing all at once, and they sounded beautiful rather than rackety.

 

Anala applauded and cheered for Scribblegroove, and was concerned that she might use up all her energy on praise.

 

Anala smiled as Scribblegroove requested another player. 'Gee, I wonder if he wants Kay to do it? Yeah, you can drop the act, Scribbs, we all know what you're talking about.'

 

"Good luck!" she called to Kay as the minstrel went up on stage.

 

Anala had to admit, she did feel a little left out, and was beginning to wish she'd taken one of those music classes back in high school.

Edited by Rainbow Eclipse

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