Report SteelMystUser ID: 17,162 Registered: 2nd Mar 2012
Last Seen: 3h, 1m ago Story views: 33,976
"There's not much to tell," the tan-coated stallion replied, sighing comfortably as he set his whiskey glass back down and slid it across the bar where the bartender snatched it up on reflex without even looking, clearly adapted to the various habits of his nightly customer.
"I'm an independent playwright of sorts. In reality I'm more of a hobbyist, or at least that's what most people would call me if they knew what I was really like," he chuckled, giving his conversation partner a sidelong glance before continuing to answer the many questions his visitor tonight had dumped on him.
"But the truth is that writing isn't a hobby of mine. It's much more than that. It's a passion, a dream. A hobby exists just to pass the time enjoyably, but it becomes something different when it's always on your mind. You live in a different world when everything you think and see and hear is fuel for new adventures and possibilities. There's more to life than reality," he said with a pleasant sigh, clearly remembering fond things in his past as a playwright, and imagining more to come in the future.
"It's not easy work, really. Takes time and effort, something a lot of people don't have a surplus of anymore. But the rewards are worth it," he said with a sly smile, brushing a newspaper out from under his forleg, and pointing to an article.
"Highly acclaimed playwright 'Brony2893' claims his inspiration for becoming a playwright stems from the debut play 'Heart of a Dragon' by Razorbeam," the unicorn read aloud, picking up the next whiskey glass as the bartender placed it in front of him.
"This isn't the first one of these I've seen," he said with a small smile. "And it's not about having my name in stars on the front page; it's about seeing other people make it there that I've inspired," he continued, setting his glass down again.
"It's about seeing how my dreams and adventures can change the dreams of others, inspire them to do great things," he added fondly. The unicorn flipped through a few pages, folding the newspaper down to reveal a singular article.
"The Canterlot Orchestra was recently opened for by renowned solo-composer Socratic Brony," he read aloud again, smiling the whole while, "a stallion who amazed critics of the production and held their attention so thoroughly that his segment garnered more reviews than the orchestra itself for the performance," he chuckled, finishing the article.
"A good friend of mine, one who claims I inspired him to take the leap and put his music out there for others to hear," the unicorn said with a warm smile. "He still does songs for me, from time to time, but I think his best work comes from the confidence to act on his own that he's been developing, albeit slowly."
"This is what my writing is really about. Great adventures don't really end," he said, topping off his whiskey and setting the glass aside once more. "They just pave the way for new stories, written or real. What I write, I write to live myself, and when you write that way everyone who reads it can live it too," he continued, rising from his bar stool and dropping some bits on the counter to cover his drinks.
"The best part of a story, I think, has nothing to do with what you read or write. It's about what you live through, how it changes you and inspires you to find that next adventure; maybe even one you write yourself," he finished, waving farewell to his visitor over his shoulder.
He paused for only a moment at the door to the quiet, empty bar, and simply smiled. "Just remember, as long as you live the story, the music, the work of art, you're living the adventure woven into it."
With a smirk and a nod goodbye, the unicorn was out the door and on his way into the cool spring night, humming a familiar tune a good friend had played for him once, not so long ago.
The Visionary Universe
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