Symphony Of Harmony Chapter two: Posy’s point of view
I awoke in my bed with light trying to make its way through my curtains. I pushed the blanket off of me and jumped down onto the floor and stretched a bit. “Getting up in the morning is always difficult.” I muttered and made my way to the curtains. I pulled them open and flinched back a bit, it was unusually bright. “Huh, my plants will get more then enough sun now.” I cheered happily as I opened my bedroom door and proceeded down the stairs to start the day. I walked into the kitchen and pulled things out of my cupboards to make a sandwich when I heard a knock at the door. “Coming~!” I called happily as I walked over to the door and opened it.”Oh! Hello mister Hooves!” Landau hooves worked for the Deville’s railroad, on a mail cart I think. “A-arn’t you supposed to b-be at work?” I commented shyly, argh sometimes I can’t get over how shy I can be.
“As a matter of fact miss Posy, I am at work.” He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a light blue letter with a golden crest on it. “I was told to give this to you directly, I have to get back to the railroad.” He turned and walked away, the unicorn almost bumping into one of my fence posts as he left my yard.
“Poor dear...” I watched him leave then opened the letter.
Dear miss Posy.
If you are reading this then you are invited to the Canterlot palace to speak to the king himself.
“Wait, when did we ever have a king?” I wondered out loud as I kept reading.
Please come at your earliest convenience.
I stared dumbfounded at the paper I held in front of me, why was I being invited to see the king? Was was Father Night anyway? I thought we only had Princess Celestia! I placed the paper on the side table I had by the door and closed it. “I’ll go after I water my plants and get something to eat.” I paused. “Not in that order of course.” I giggled a little bit and set off to making my sandwich again.
Deville Brougham’s point of view:
And, with this golden spike, like the great tycoons before me, I declare the Salt Lake City-Canterlot mane-line, OPEN!”
The applause was deafening, I had never heard so many stomping hooves in my life. The ponies in the background watched in awe, as I, and a human, who owned the Union Pacific, half-credited to the construction, each hammered in a golden spike, to signal the lines opening. I loved the attention they gave me, it made me feel.....Successful. I reared up to show my vast, infinite power, and they cheered even LOUDER! These ponies....These gullible little ponies....
After they had gone, I met with the human, whose name turned out to be Charles, Charles Adams. We sat in a pullman car, and began to talk business.
“Well,” I began, “It is very nice to meet you, Mister Adams.”
“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Deville.”
“Alright,” I growled, pulling out my trusty ledger, “Let’s cut the meaningless greetings, and get down to work.”
“I was just about to say the same thing,” he replied, lighting a cigar, “Would you care for a cigar, by the way?”
“Sure, quite generous of you, actually....”
I lit mine, and we continued talking.
“So, how much of the reward for building the railroad am I entitled to?”
“Well,” I chuckled, flicking some of the ash into a nearby ashtray, “I’d say about...10%....”
“TEN PERCENT?” Oh, NOW I had gotten him riled up! Man, he seemed like he was about to blow smoke out of his ears!
“My men had to work through THE SECOND HARSHEST DESERT IN THE UNITED STATES, to get to a country that most people think DOESN’T EVEN EXIST! I should have at least FIFTY PERCENT!”
“Sorry, bud...” I told him, “That’s the way the cookie crumbles! And, if you don’t like it, then you’ll be out of a train to meet you at the border!”
He began to scream in rage, and I decided that it was time for me to go. I hopped out, and ducked, as an ornate wood table came crashing through the train car window.
“Uh-oh...” I muttered to myself, “Looks like someone soiled their diaper....”
As the UP executive train began to roll away, I heard a strange chugging noise from the head-end of the train. I looked up, toward where the ponies pulling would be, only to see a huge, black machine, smoke coming out of a chimney atop its gargantuan boiler. It was a leviathan in anyway, it’s presence it’s SELF demanding the right-of-way. It was love at first sight.
“Lesabre...” I whispered to him, pointing at the machine in awe, “What IS that thing?”
“That’s a steam engine, sir,” my faithful servant replied, “They run on steam by burning coal, or sometimes wood.”
“That’s nice, that’s nice...” I was still marvelling at this beautiful black monster, as it chugged away. “GET ME ONE.”
“Oh, by the way, sir,” Lesabre reached into his coat pocket, and pulled from it a blue envelope with a crescent-shaped seal, “Celestia wants to have dinner with you tonight.”
“OH, YES, YES YES!” Unable to contain my excitement, I began bouncing up and down on the desert ground. “I KNEW SHE’D FINALLY REALIZE HOW WONDERFUL I REALLY AM!”
“No, Sir,” he corrected, “It’s not like that.”
My enthusiasm deflated like a beachball. “Oh, okay then....Maybe she wants to give us more tax breaks, hm?”
“Well, sir, we’ll find out tonight, I’m sure it will be valuable news.”
“OH! That reminds me!” I gestured quickly over toward the golden spikes, which lay in the rails, glistening in the sun. “Pull those out, will you? We don’t want some hoodlums coming along, and stealing them, to feed their family, do we?”
“Sir!” Lesabre protested, showing that he had a conscience. I HATED when he did that. “That other spike belongs to Union Pacific, it would be theft!”
“You know,” I agreed, “You’re right! It WOULD be theft! But, then again, I don’t GIVE a damn!” I signalled to two burly stallions, who were waiting for the employee train home from the ceremony. Better for them to get their hooves dirty than ME, right? “Pull those out, and replace them with regular, iron spikes!”
They both nodded, acknowledging my order, and ran over to the rails with crowbars. I was suspicious that they might steal the spikes for themselves, so I watched, until they were finished, and had them hand the two gold fasteners over to me.
After obtaining these two little beauties, me and Lesabre hopping in my private coach, the Lark, and waited for the employee train to start off. After those two were aboard, we set off, doing no more than 15 miles an hour.
“Can’t those lumbering brutes move any faster?” I mumbled to myself, looking out the coach window. Lesabre had left, and I was alone in the several year-old Pullman. I remembered all of the times I remembered how many times I had to make and break up-and-coming businessponies, how many times I had ridden in it, and how many times we had executive dinner parties in it.
I could remember it as if it was yesterday, because, ironically, it WAS yesterday. Ponies and humans alike strode about in the old car, most centered around me, except for those who marvelled at a classical band that played for our entertainment. In fact, I thought I could hear the far-off chords of a violin, a cello, and maybe even a piano.
What the hell? I really WAS hearing music! I looked around, but, of course, I was the only one in the car, except for a painting, that I had always thought was odd. It was of a strange black alicorn mare, who wore a glistening silver helmet. Her mane was a star-covered purple haze. It was told my grandfather, who had been royal advisor, had painted it. I didn’t know why.
Continuing to look for the music, I looked in the next car up, but there was only Lesabre, and a mare who I had guessed to be a prostitute. We had always bought a couple on special occaisions.
“Hey, Lesabre,” I asked, pointing to the door at the far end of the train coach, “Somepony playing their crappy records again?”
“No, sir,” the horny unicorn replied, staring at the hooker on his lap, “I don’t hear a THING!”
“Well, then, maybe it’s just me...”
I decided to leave the two alone, as they went at it. I just sat at my table, in the business compartment of the Lark, the strange tune still playing in my head. I found it strangely beautiful, but, eerie at the same time.
“You know what?” I thought, “This could sound better....”
I thought of a better song, and found the strange urge to play it. Luckily, for decoration, there was a grand piano in the car. I began to play, and, little by little, I turned it into a nice little ditty. I began to imagine me and Celestia, dancing to the tune of that little song, and it seemed so real, almost TOO real!
Of course, Lesabre and his filthy whore had to come in, and ruin the fun, when the train stopped.
“Sir!” he warned me, “It’s your stop, Canterlot!”
“Okay, sure, thanks.....”
As I hopped out, I remembered the letter. I opened it, and read it to myself.
“Dear Deville Walker Brougham,
If you are reading this then you are invited to the Canterlot palace to speak to the king himself. please come when convenient.
Who in Equestria is THAT?
“LESABRE, YOU PRANKING SON OF A BITCH!” I yelled, as the train rumbled away, “YOU SAID IT WAS FROM CELESTIA!”
I WOULD’VE came tonight, but, I was tired after a busy day, so I decided I would arrive there tomorrow morning.
Hailing a taxi cart, I told the cabbie to take me to 7331, Grenville Avenue, where my manor lay.