//------------------------------// // It's just another night // Story: Two Simple Words // by Capriccio //------------------------------// “I *boing* can’t *boing* believe *boing* the Grand *boing* Galloping *boing* Gala *boing* is *boing* tonight!!” Ugh, please Celestia, make it stop! Capriccio lay prostrate on the grass underneath the large oak tree in front of Carousel Boutique, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and hooves firmly plugged into his ears. He’d been listening to Pinkie Pie bounding up and down on her personal trampoline for nearly an hour already, and he was near his wit’s end. How can one pony make so much damn noise? For a while, it had merely been a mild distraction for him and the few other ponies around. He hadn’t bothered paying her much attention; after all, it was just Pinkie being Pinkie. After two or three or forty-five minutes though, it began to wear on his nerves and eardrums just a little bit. “Pinkie, please stop shouting! I’m trying to concentrate!” Twilight Sparkle was just about as fed up with Pinkie’s incessant bouncing as Capriccio was. She’d tried to ignore it for as long as she could, but the relentless creaking of the springs and Pinkie’s piercing soprano had been grating on her long enough. She’d been poring over a book of spells for a while now, trying to find just the right combination of magic to help facilitate tonight’s transportation to the Gala, and it had required all her focus. Focus that was still being distracted by Pinkie continuing to jump on her trampoline, paying no attention to Twilight’s request. She turned and looked over towards the green, blonde-maned Pegasus laying under the tree. “Can’t you do something about this?” “You’re kidding, right?” Capriccio gave her a rather annoyed look. “Since when has Pinkie ever listened to me? I’d have better luck trying to get Applejack into a fairy princess outfit.” “Hey, I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore!” Applejack shot him a glare as she also tried to shield herself from Pinkie’s earsplitting whooping and hollering. “Last time I ever go to a slumber party…” Twilight tried to shake the racket going on behind her out of her head, to no avail. “Can’t somebody say something? I’m trying to focus, but that’s impossible with all this noise!” She did her best to not-so-subtly clue Pinkie Pie in on the irritation she was causing everypony else, but Pinkie paid her no mind as she merrily bounced along. Capriccio just jammed his hooves into his ears even tighter, but nothing could keep Pinkie’s voice and the “sproings” of the trampoline from penetrating his eardrums. It’s like fluffy pink nails on the chalkboard of my brain! Fortunately though, relief was finally delivered, by a certain white unicorn. “Pinkie Pie! Stop that right now! It’s time to prepare for the Gala and I refuse to let you put on your new dress if you’re all sweaty.” Rarity came trotting out of Carousel Boutique with a stern expression on her face, one that Pinkie Pie took as a cue that her time of trampoline fun was finished. Everypony around her breathed a sigh of relief as she lightly stepped down from her bouncy device and stood silently, wearing a look like a puppy that had just been told it was a bad dog. The fashionista didn’t pay much attention to her, though; her ire was immediately drawn to the Pegasus lazing under her oak tree. “And you, Capriccio! What are you doing lying down on the ground like that? I’ve just finished your tuxedo, and you’re going to dirty yourself before you put it on? I mean, honestly, have you no respect at all for yourself?” Again with this? Any sense of respite that Capriccio felt now that Pinkie’s bouncing had ceased was immediately replaced by one of frustration. “Rarity, can you please just let me rest here for a little bit? I’ve spent the whole day helping you guys get prepared for tonight, and I need a little break.” Rarity trotted up to him, a disapproving look gracing her visage. “But must you lie down in the grass? You’re going to get grass stains on your coat.” Capriccio gave her a quizzical look. “Grass stains on my…coat? That’s a joke, right?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Surely she couldn’t have meant that. But Rarity gave no indication that she was being humorous. Wow, she’s actually serious. He hoisted himself up to sit on his haunches and tapped a hoof to his chin pensively. “So let me get this straight. You’re worried about me getting grass stains…on my dark green coat?” A few light snickers arose from the others, but Rarity continued to glare at Capriccio. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. I won’t stand for you sullying yourself right before the Gala.” Capriccio laughed, finding it very hard to believe that Rarity couldn’t see the inconsistency in her disapproval. “Sorry, let me try this again. You’re worried about me getting dark green grass stains that won’t be visible against my dark green coat on me?” Rarity sighed and pressed a hoof to her face in frustration. “You’re simply missing the point, darling. It’s bothering me that you’re not paying any attention to your appearance. This could very well be the most important night of our lives, and look at you! Your mane is an absolute mess, you’ve got dirt stains on your hooves, and you still desperately need to shave.” Capriccio’s mirthful expression immediately darkened. “Ok, first of all, I’m not going to shave. End of story.” He was amazed she would even ask him to do that. His goatee was one of his defining characteristics, almost as much so as his cutie mark. Ever since he could grow facial hair, there had almost always been a goatee adorning his chin. The one time he had decided to shave it, he nearly became unrecognizable to his peers. How many times did I hear ‘I know who you are, but something’s missing?’ He’d vowed that day to never shave his goatee again, and he wasn’t about to let Rarity coerce him into breaking that promise. “Secondly, I haven’t had time to get myself cleaned up because I’ve been running around town doing errands for Twilight and Applejack and helping them get all of their things together for tonight.” Capriccio knew she was right about him looking like a mess, but the chores he’d been asked to do that day hadn’t really left him much time before now to get himself together. All morning he had helped Twilight and Spike search the library for the book of spells she was currently absorbed with, and it hadn’t been easy to find at all. It had taken them nearly an hour and a half to sort through the library’s shelves; the book, it turned out, had been accidentally jammed behind a full row of books on the top shelf. Twilight had been incredibly upset that she hadn’t noticed it was there the last time she had reshelved the library’s collection. Then it had taken them another two and a half hours to reshelve the books they had thrown on the floor in search of the rogue spell anthology. He ended up showing up late to Sweet Apple Acres to help Applejack gather all the supplies she needed for her vendor’s stand. To make matters worse, a few of the apples she had planned on using for baking had been spoiled, and he’d had to make his way out to a distant orchard and harvest another barrel’s worth for her. And with summer beginning to kick into high gear, the weather was not very conducive to a comfortable work environment. When he finally arrived at Carousel Boutique that afternoon to prepare for the Gala, he was sweaty, disheveled, and thoroughly exhausted. “And finally, I think you’re exaggerating how much this night actually matters. It’s just another night to me. It’s not really that important.” “Not that important!?” The ponies around him exclaimed in unison. They were all shocked he would even suggest such a thing, none more so than Rarity, who stared him down as if he’d just insulted her perfectly styled mane. “This, Capriccio, is the Grand Galloping Gala, the most important event of the year throughout all of Equestria! Only the highest of the high-class ponies are going to be there. I can’t believe you would even think that tonight is ‘not a big deal.’ This night could very well change all of our lives!” Pinkie Pie stepped towards him, speaking for the first time since disembarking her trampoline. “Yeah, Cappy. Don’t you think it’s going to be fun?” She still had the sad puppy-dog look on her face. Capriccio was a little taken aback by her question. He hadn’t meant to imply that he thought tonight was going to be miserable. “Of course I think it’s going to be fun, Pinkie.” He gave her a smile, which brought a big smile of her own to her face. “But I’m not convinced that it’s going to be a life-changing event.” Twilight Sparkle looked up at him from her book, questioning him with her eyes. “Don’t you have any expectations at all for tonight?” Capriccio pondered her question for a moment. The truth was, he hoped tonight would help propel him to greater fame as one of Equestria’s great musicians. His invitation had come directly from Princess Celestia, who had informed him that a few of the pieces he had written while at the Royal School of Music would be programmed into the musical entertainment for the evening. To say he was honored would be an understatement, and he felt the possibilities of what could come of tonight were staggering. Rarity was right about one thing; the Gala would be filled mares and stallions of power, in business and the arts alike. If they liked his work, and were willing to share it with the other members of the aristocracy, he could become famous virtually overnight. But who am I kidding? The likelihood of that actually happening is practically zero, so it’s not even worth thinking about. “I can’t say I do, Twilight.” He stood up and began pacing underneath the tree, gesticulating as he spoke. “Here’s what I think’s going to happen. I’m going to go to the Gala, mingle a little bit, enjoy some music, maybe chat with a few old friends, and then leave. Tomorrow, I’ll reminisce about it with the rest of you, and then I’ll go about the rest of my life. It’ll be a nice memory, but not much more than that.” “I suppose that’s where we differ, Capriccio,” Rarity acknowledged. “And I can respect your opinion on that. But that still doesn’t mean you can just disregard your appearance by lazing around in the dirt.” “Well, I don’t have a couch that I can drag around whenever I feel like it.” Capriccio shot Rarity a smug glance. “…like somepony we know.” “Hmmph.” Rarity wasn’t amused, even a few of the other ponies offered a chuckle at Capriccio’s playful little jab. “At least I take the time to worry about my appearance. But I guess I shouldn’t expect much in the way of grooming from a Fillydelphian.” “Hey!” Capriccio had completely lost any semblance of humor that he’d been trying to hold onto, and was now quickly descending into anger. “I might be from Fillydelphia, but that doesn’t mean I need your advice on how to keep my appearances up! I’m a grown stallion; I can take care of myself!” “Whoa there!” Applejack, sensing that another fight was about ready to break out, stepped between the two. “Now let’s just take it easy and—” “Is that why you haven’t trimmed your mane or filed your hooves in months? And when are you going to shave that monstrosity on your chin?” Rarity was just as furious as Capriccio was. “Honestly, have you even looked in a mirror lately?” “How can I? You won’t move out from in front of it! If it were up to you, you’d never even make it to the Gala because you’d be positioning every single hair on your head until it was just perfect!” Capriccio was fuming. “And I’m not shaving!” “How dare you! I do not spend too much time in front of the mirror, just more than you do! Which isn’t hard since you’ve clearly never set hoof in front of one!” “I look just fine, dammit!” “You look fine!? You’re out here wallowing in the mud like a pig!” “What did you call me!?” “I think you heard me!” “Priss!” “Boor!” “THAT’S ENOUGH!!” Twilight Sparkle slammed her book shut and stomped over to the arguing pair. “Honestly, can you two go more than five seconds without arguing with each other? It’s been like this all week!” “He’s the one who started it,” Rarity haughtily replied, turning her head up and waving her hoof at Capriccio. “He’s the one who insulted me, and just for actually caring about my personal appearance.” “I was making a joke, Rarity. You’re the one who went and insulted me!” Capriccio glared daggers at her, even more incensed that she had the gall to insinuate that he had started the fight. Twilight stepped between the two of them. “Stop it, both of you! You’re acting like foals!” “I most certainly am not!” Rarity shot a reproving look at Twilight. “I am a lady and will act as such. If anyone is acting immature, it’s him.” Capriccio had heard enough. “Whatever, I don’t need this garbage from you.” He gave a huff as he turned away from the group and began walking away. “Hey, where are you going?” Pinkie Pie called after him, a twinge of worry in her voice. Capriccio didn’t even look back. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” he said, venom dripping from his lips with the last two words. “Apparently, the ‘lady’ over there can’t stand a little spot of dirt on my hooves.” And with that, he spread his wings and took off towards the center of town. Rarity gave no response other than a simple “Hmmph!” as she purposefully trotted back inside her boutique. The other three ponies all let out a collective sigh as she slammed the door. Twilight looked off in the direction of the town center. “So begins the best night ever…” *** “Seriously, who does she think she is?” Capriccio seethed quietly to himself as he stalked around his room in the upper level of the town library. “Does she really think she can just waltz around and tell everypony how they’re supposed to look?” He walked over to his bed and collapsed onto the soft mattress, staring lazily at the ceiling. “‘Shouldn’t expect much from a Fillydelphian.’ What a royal…I can’t believe she said that.” He rolled himself over onto his side and stared at the wall, still silently fuming. It was true that Fillydelphia had a reputation for being a rather “blue-saddle” type of town, where ponies often worked hard for a living, but that didn’t mean that it was full of a bunch of ruffians, and Capriccio had grown up in the upper-class of the city’s population. His parents were both members of the Fillydelphia Orchestra, easily the most popular orchestra in all of Equestria. His mother played the cello and often accompanied the smaller chamber ensembles on piano, and his father was the orchestra’s premier violinist and concertmaster. Together, they were two of the most highly regarded ponies in the artistic social circles of Fillydelphia. And they had raised Capriccio to follow in their footsteps, getting him involved in music almost from day one. While his parents, especially his father, had tried to influence him to be a violinist, he quickly discovered his talents were in composing, rather than performing. When he was still a very young colt, he had written a duet for piano and violin, and his parents had been so excited to show off “their little Mozart” that they arranged a small private concert to perform his new piece. The crowd wasn’t very large—just a few friends, family, and members of the orchestra—but Capriccio’s piece had been enthusiastically received by everyone in attendance. When his parents called him out on stage to take a bow, he looked down to his flank and saw his cutie mark appear before his eyes: an ornamented segno symbol. He hadn’t even been able to bow for the crowd; he could only jump around the stage in excitement and hug his parents, who couldn’t have been prouder. Since that day, he devoted himself to writing music, eventually becoming a student at the Royal School of Music in Canterlot, where he studied the greatest composers in Equestrian history from Neightoven to Coltland to Rachmaneinov. Soon though, he found himself becoming more interested in the songs of the common folk rather than the music of the greats. At Princess Celestia’s suggestion, he decided to spend some time studying folk music in Ponyville. The Princess agreed to put him in touch with Twilight Sparkle, an old friend of his whom he met after coming to the Royal School, and arranged to have him stay with her in the library. The transition for him was…a little rough, at first. Capriccio had always had a little trouble making friends, especially after beginning his studies at the Royal School. He was a nice enough colt, but he had the tendency to let his tongue drift into matters of discussion that usually led to him saying something that would come off as overtly sarcastic or slightly offensive, always to his chagrin. More often than not, he’d been able to smooth over whatever it was he had said, whether on the spot or at a later date, salvaging a potentially ruined friendship in the process. Sometimes, though, it didn’t go quite according to plan. Maybe that’s why Rarity and I aren’t getting along. He frowned; he thought any animosity between him and Rarity had been put to rest. He thought back to when they were first introduced to each other. His initial impression on Rarity seemed to be a decent one, and their first encounter had ended rather amicably. The next meeting hadn’t gone quite so well; he couldn’t remember what it was he said that had so infuriated her, but he knew he had said something that she felt was out of line, and he remembered apologizing profusely for it. But after that, things seemed to be pretty normal for a little while; they would chat like a regular pair of acquaintances would, and Rarity had even offered to make him a tuxedo for the Gala when she learned that he would be attending with her and the other five. But now he was wondering if she had merely been suppressing any bitterness she had about his less-than-stellar second impression, and was just now letting it come to the surface. Ever since the week of the Gala had arrived, any sort of remark that Capriccio made that could be construed as an inflammatory one would set her off, and they would argue and argue and argue some more. They would usually fight over insignificant little things, too, which is what annoyed Capriccio more than anything else. Like that damn bowtie. He shuddered at the memory of that argument. For most of the tuxedo designing and fitting process, he’d deferred to Rarity on all of her fashion-related choices, except for one. He had never been a fan of bowties, and all he’d asked of her was to let him wear a traditional necktie with his tux, but Rarity had insisted that he wear a bowtie. The ensuing fight had lasted for at least an hour, and it had ended with Rarity pinning him to the ground and nearly choking him to death with the bowtie she had forcibly tied around his neck. He was pretty sure he still had a mark on his neck from that strangling fabric… A knock on his door snapped him out of his recollection. “Who is it?” He wasn’t sure who would be around to knock on his door. The library had been completely empty when he had returned, a rare “Closed” sign hanging in the front window. So who could possibly be here and want to see him? The door cracked open just a little bit, and Twilight Sparkle stuck her head in. “Oh, hey Twilight.” He gave her an insincere half-smile and went back to staring at the ceiling. She took a tentative step through the door. “May I come in?” “If you want.” He didn’t bother to look down at her. She walked into the room and set down in the chair next to Capriccio’s bed. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He continued to stare at the ceiling. “Just peachy, Twilight. Never better.” He tried to keep his manner as civil as possible, but the sarcasm in his voice was impossible to ignore. Twilight winced a little bit at his biting remark. “There’s no need to be so caustic. I’m just a bit concerned about you and Rarity.” He shifted up against the headboard to look at the wall, front legs folded behind his head. “Why me? There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just doing my own thing.” He tried to convince her that he wasn’t bothered by the previous confrontation he’d just had, but his voice was quickly turning sour. “If that fussbudget wants to argue, that’s fine with me.” Twilight’s face darkened a little bit. “Why would you think that she’s bent on arguing with you?” “You heard what she said, Twilight.” Capriccio’s façade of indifference melted away as he mentally recounted the abuse Rarity had thrown at him. “It’s pretty obvious that she hasn’t exactly been enamored with me lately. But hey, if she wants to be hostile, that’s her problem, not mine.” Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “But that’s just it, Capriccio. She doesn’t want to argue with you, not at all.” “Then why has she insisted on giving me grief at every turn for the last week?” The anger in his voice was hard to miss. Twilight chuckled a little bit, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Oh Capriccio, I would imagine that you’d understand Rarity by now, at least a little bit. You know how she gets sometimes, always nitpicking over every little detail. That’s just the kind of pony she is. Besides, think about how anxious she must be for tonight. She made all those dresses and your tuxedo specifically for tonight, and now she’ll finally be able to put them on display for the aristocracy of Canterlot. She just wants to make sure everypony looks their best.” He turned his head to look at her, a mix of confusion and frustration in eyes. “That doesn’t explain why she’s been giving me so much more trouble than the rest of you.” “Oh, believe me. We’ve all gotten our fair share of reprimanding and disapproval from Rarity this week. But we’ve known her long enough to know that she doesn’t mean to be so finicky, that it’s just her nerves taking over, and we’ve learned to let it roll off our shoulders.” She leaned forward in her chair towards him. “It’s better than trying to argue with her, don’t you think?” Capriccio raised an eyebrow at her. He was trying to comprehend what she had just told him, and he didn’t like the implications she had made. “So…you’re saying this is my fault?” He wasn’t sure how she could possibly be insinuating that. Twilight put a hoof on his shoulder, understanding that he might be a little annoyed by her comment. “No, that’s not it at all. She’s as much to blame as you are. I’m simply saying that you need to learn to control your impulses just a little bit. I know you don’t appreciate it when she criticizes you about your appearance—and believe me, none of us enjoy that type of thing—but don’t you think it makes things worse when you come back at her with your snide remarks?” “But I didn’t mean to start a fight, Twi.” He sighed and rolled back to face the wall he’d been staring at. “I was just teasing her a little bit, that’s all. You guys should know that I like to tease everypony, but I don’t mean anything by it. It’s all in good fun, I swear.” “I know, ‘Cio.” She gave him another pat on his shoulder. “I’ve known you longer than anypony else in town has, I’m pretty sure I understand how you work by now. And I know underneath it all, there’s a pony with a good heart. But you can see how you can come off as a little…abrasive sometimes, right?” His previous train of thought returned to him; he recalled the spotty details of his first fight with Rarity, the one that had nearly ruined any chance he had of acquiring her friendship. He knew Twilight was right, as much as he hated to admit it. “Yeah…I understand what you mean, Twilight.” He slumped against the headboard as the truth of her words and the realization of what he had to do next hit him. “I guess I should apologize to Rarity, huh?” he asked, the look on his face not exactly an eager one. Twilight smiled at him softly. “I think she’d appreciate that.” He sighed, but smiled genuinely at her as he lifted himself off his bed and walked towards the bedroom door. “Alright, I’ll head back over to the boutique once I get myself cleaned up.” Twilight stood from her seat and walked to the door with him. “Good. In the meantime, I need to head back over there and finish studying up on those spells.” “If you say so.” He couldn’t resist. “…Little Miss Bookworm.” He gave her a cheeky grin. Twilight returned it with a look of mock indignation. “Would you rather fly yourself to Canterlot tonight?” “…I’ll shut up now.” “That’s what I thought.”