It seems the guard force has cycled back to the batlike ponies now that it’s nighttime again. Checking around the guest room they took me to, it seems very large. So spacious. It’s just a guest room; who could possibly need this much open area for a temporary stay? It’s not like it’s for ambassadorial purposes or anything, right? Either case, it comes with a huge amount of space, and fairly fancy-looking furnishings. That bed is large enough for more than one of me, so that’s a plus. A balcony, to boot. Wow, I can actually see a good chunk of Canterlot from here. I stay a decent distance away from the railing and... actually Canterlot appears rather different at nighttime. I’m not that tired either. I’ve seen the castle, but never the city itself at night. Might be worth a bit of adventure.
Leaving the castle, I trade a nod with one of the night guards as I exit through the front gate. I wonder what sorts of things I could find to pass the time with. It’s a fair bit past sunset so all the stores and restaurants I pass are closed. Some places have lights on, but not many. There’s the occasional guard, flying overhead and passing on. Guess even the capital city needs patrolling.
The night is figuratively young, might as well see what’s around. Some places do have lights on inside of them but they look residential, and I’m not gonna just go knocking on strangers’ front doors a couple hours before midnight.
Huh, that place looks interesting. It doesn’t look particularly fancy by Canterlot standards, since it seems mostly made of wood. I get up close and I think I hear someone speaking, though I can’t make out what is being said. I make for the door and duck as I let myself in. I close the door behind me and straighten up a bit to look around. Not a very big establishment, a standing area for some ponies to gather and a raised section in the back with slightly more lighting and a pony up on what is definitely a stage of some sort. The speaking hasn’t stopped and I can now note rhythmic tones to the speech. Is this a poetry club or something?
Some ponies must have noticed me come in, because a cluster of them turn around to see me. A few turn their noses up, a few look surprised. Usual mixed response as always. The pony onstage looks a bit perturbed but keeps going. Not bad, definitely some sort of poetry thing, purely oratory and seems to be all off-the-cuff. Rambling, but with an implied subtext of ‘art’. The pony onstage finishes and steps down, now approaching me. I’ll give her initiative.
“What brings you here?”
I shrug and look back around the place. “Didn’t know what this place was. Figured I could spare the time to check it out.”
“I see...” The mare replies dryly. “Well, did you find what you’re looking for already?”
“What is there to look for, here?” I ask simply.
“Do you have no respect for the art of poetry?” another pony asks from the crowd.
I turn in the direction of the voice and reply. “Of course I do. Though I’m not fond of interruptive interjections.” I return my attention to the mare who was onstage. “Back on track, this is just a poetry corner? You own this place, or are you the main event?”
“I happen to be both.” the mare replies quickly. “Do you not know who I am?”
“I don’t care to, really.” I say.
“Hmph, you say you admire art, yet you snub your nose at true artists.” She says with a flick of her tail that seems to indicate displeasure.
She’s gonna randomly flatter herself over art? Let’s ruffle some artsy fur. “The art should be many depths more important than the artiste.” I reply, adopting a challenging tone. “That’s just common knowledge. Art is eternal. Art transcends the time allotted to the flesh that produced it. If the artist is more important than the art itself, then clearly the art is inherently sub-par. I offer no accolade to a person who created something unless they have deserved it through the quality of what they created. To believe that one’s name has any weight in comparison to that which they have gifted to the world and will ultimately be outlived by is a horrendous folly and a sign of one’s ego being more important to that one than anything they have designed.” I cross my arms and plant my feet as I look back at her. “Do you, miss, have any respect for art?”
The crowd is quiet, but I hear a chuckle from someone. The mare before me is fuming, but it’s clear she knows that if she loses her cool, I’ll have won by default. She gives me a judgemental glare. “If you are so informed of the true nature of art, then surely you will be more than capable of wowing us all, yes?” She gestures to the small stage. “Go on, impress us all with your incredible oratory talent.”
“I will impress this gathering as best I’m able.” I give her a sneer. “But you... I do not see a need to impress you in the slightest. Let other admirers of art be my judge, not those who wish only to see me fail.” I smile wider as I hear some more short chuckles from the crowd, and I make my way up to the platform.
I know exactly the kind of melodramatic emo stuff that attendees of these sorts of venues just can’t get enough of. Tragedies of love tend to be rather popular, I could just take my position with Myrna and dramatize the hell out of it. Flip the ‘wangst’ switch and crank up the ‘bullshit’ dial. I clear my throat and begin, doing my best to look and sound despaired.
“Love! Why is it so estranged from me? Why must my heart ache so, yet remain unrequited? All I’ve lost, now surrounded by things I do not understand or admire, save for one. One beautiful soul, full of laughter and friendship, one whose gaze can both turn me to stone and set me afire as suits her desires... and yet I cannot say. She will never know if I lack the courage to show her my own soul. Is it because I fear her? No. No! It is because I fear myself! I fear what she might say. If I am to be rejected, then what else is there for me? If my last bastion of light and passion refuses me, what good comes of going on without it?” I take a knee to overemphasise the drama further. “There is nothing! And there lies the tragedy itself, the agonizing truth that comes with the question: why should she accept me? She shant, for her own good! Our outward appearances reflect as opposites of ourselves and one-another for I am the cold-blooded one, the one seeking comfort and warmth... her visage a monster to all who see, and myself a crueller monster apparent to none! My heart was stone long before I could let her see it, and were I to give it to her would she truly warm me? Even if she was to embrace my passion, who is to say that she would lift me up afore being dragged down to me? The devils I’ve danced with are not ones that she need be worried with, my demons a fright that she’s escaped once yet. To hurt her in such a way would surely be a most frightful thing. So I resist, I refuse to terrorize her! Even as I practice every word to tell her how I ache for her, I halt myself before they leave my lips.” I’ve moved on to shaking a fist at the air above me as I stay partially knelt. “For her own good, I shall never reveal that there is no good to be had from myself. I shan't corrupt her beauty with my pain. Even as I burn inside my breast, I know that deeper down I am cold and dark. There is no need for her to care for one such as myself. I shall not approach further, I refute my greed! As sweet as her love may be, I cannot sour her with mine. And so stays the agony of loneliness, even as she stays beside me. Touching me, yet not feeling me. Seeing me, but never knowing me. I would protect her from the horrors that may await her, especially that which lies in the farthest depths of my desire. Burn on, flame of passion! Burn on, only to be fueled by imagination, never to be fulfilled! But if she were to reach first... if she were to ask first, what then? Could I refuse her, if she looked upon me with the same desire? Would my judgement leave me, would my sight fog long enough to accept her? If she spoke to me the words I’ve agonized to tell her, would I risk her joy? Would I dare to let her try matching my heart to hers before mine could corrupt? I shall never know the answer for sure, for my fear locks me in place, leaving me with the bitter sting of uncertainty. Maybe... maybe... maybe...” I let the silence hang in the air for a bit before I stand up and look about the gathering of ponies. I really hope that was corny enough.
It stays quiet for a bit longer but eventually I hear rhythmic clopping of hooves, they’re lightly stomping the ground in a pattern that seems to be emulating the clapping of hands. The sounds get louder as more of them join in, and I assume that this is their method of applause. Well, I feel satisfied so I take a short bow and walk off the stage. The mare from before walks up to me and looks rather impressed. I don’t bother with looking back at her, I just wave behind me as I duck out the doorway onto the streets of Canterlot. That was some cheap fucking cheese back there. I should be awarded a medal for not facepalming in the middle of it, that’s the real acting. I need to shake this off, find a distraction.
So, what else does the capital city have to offer those awake for its nightlife? Surely there has to be more than a poetry corner whose attendees favor pretentiousness over real talent. I mean, I suppose there was that club I found before, where I met Vinyl Scratch. Haven’t seen or heard from her in a while. But I can’t figure out how to get there from here, it was a pretty long time ago and this part of the city is unfamiliar to me. Ah well, guess I’ll just continue looking for places to spend time. Just gotta keep track of where I’ve been so I can get myself back to the castle.
Not a whole lot to see, honestly. There’s nobody wandering the streets except me. I’m used to seeing Canterlot as a very busy place, but at night it seems ponies are either at home or already got to whatever establishment they were going to spend their evening at. I’m the only one around who’s aimless and indecisive. There’s got to be somewhere to enjoy myself, right? I even have a little money this time around, so that widens my options somewhat, but I don’t feel like shopping at all.
I round a corner and further down the street I see a very nondescript building. It’s so nondescript it stands out like a... well, like a bland and uninteresting building on a block of pricey-looking housing and businesses. The lights are on, and I see some ponies in a short line waiting to get inside. So it’s clearly got traffic particularly at this hour, in contrast to the rest of the whole street. Might as well check it out. I'll wait for the line to thin, first. I haven’t seen any ponies come out yet though, so it’s not a matter of capacity, but perhaps some sort of exclusivity? Might as well get in line now that it’s down to only two more. Going up to the building I see that one of the ponies I thought was in line is actually waiting by the door and another mare being sized up in some fashion before she’s allowed inside.
Guess I’ll find out what’s in here soon enough since I’m next in line, and obviously the bouncer mare sees me coming. Once I’m closer, I see that the mare’s wearing some kind of vest with a bowtie. She looks me over and seems to be thinking to herself, staying silent. Doesn’t take long for her to nod with a small smile and I nod in return as she gestures with her head towards the open door. I duck under the door frame as usual and the place is rather interesting. It’s like a lounge of sorts, dim lighting fills the room with a maroon hue. They’re using stained glass as a filter for candles and other sources of moderate-sized flames, making everything have a reddish tint. They must be burning incense, as there are some cloying smells floating about as I walk around. I don’t recognize any of the smells, but they aren’t unappealing, just not my ‘flavor’. There are a few ponies carrying waiter trays with cocktails on them, so this is clearly a place for adults; the bouncer probably screens for minors, then. There’s also a bunch of open booths with plush-looking couches and tables, while others have lounges as a cushy place to lay down. The majority of ponies are hanging around those areas. A few are talking quietly with each other at their tables, but aside from the minglers there’s almost no noise, so it’s very quiet. For a place that seems very keen on atmosphere, there’s no music at all. Odd, but not a bother to me.
I glance at one of the waiter ponies and consider buying a drink, but I might save that for later. I suppose there are worse places to spend a night. I find one of the couch-and-table spots that are empty and sit down. This is pretty comfy, actually. Might be a bit moreso if the seats were farther out, but not unappealing. I look around and see ponies sipping drinks and chatting quietly with one another. There don’t seem to be many that are alone, just about everyone in a group of two or three. I see a quartet over near the middle but it’s the only one here.
One of the waiter ponies comes up to me. “Hello there, are you wanting anything particular?” Hard to tell what exact color his fur is supposed to be in this tinted lighting. It’s that way with all the ponies in here, now that I think of it.
I shake my head. “No thank you, not at the moment.”
“Of course. If you make a decision or would like a menu just let one of us know.” and he walks off. With a warm shade of red on everything and those faint scents in the air, it just feels very hazy. Possibly romantic, if it would fit your tastes in that way. I just keep looking about, and it’s pretty relaxing, honestly. The fact that it’s all fire-lit makes the whole place feel cozy. The smells are foreign but starting to grow on me, and the quiet is nice. As partial as I am to music, it certainly feels like the atmosphere would be hindered by it, the theme here seems to be subtlety. Just a warm, quiet cozy place to unwind. How many times have I used the word ‘cozy’ already? My vocabulary is rarely that bland. Ah well, not important. It’s nice here. This is nice...
I take a deep breath and I feel a bit more relaxed. Maybe I will order a drink, but I’m not really sure what to have. I come out of my spacing and see a pony approaching slowly. Once they get close I can see it’s a mare by the shape of her snout, though I still can’t discern her coat color. She closes more of the distance, stopping once she’s at the table.
“Hello there.” she greets lightly. “You’re that human, right? Antony?”
I feel my insides flare up a bit at the hard ‘T’ sound but I recover quickly. Just a mistake needing correction, that’s all. “Anthony. Yeah, that’s me.”
“My, how exotic.” She says, almost sounding like a sigh. “Would you mind if I bought you a drink?”
I could refuse her quickly, but I don’t think she’s earned me being rude just yet, though I’m not going to let this go the way she thinks. “I might not mind at all.”
She giggles. “Oh? Well, what would you not mind having?”
I rub my chin with the back of my hand. “Let’s start with water, before I accept anything harder from strangers.”
She smiles and holds a forehoof to her... chest? Whatever the term is for the front end of a pony, below the neck. “Really? You get a free drink at a nice mare’s expense and you don’t make her spend a single Bit on you? My, you’re interesting, aren’t you?”
“I am interesting.” I answer the rhetorical question. “According to most I’ve met, at least.”
She smiles and leaves briefly to talk to a waiter before coming back. “Well, I was hoping to invite you to the booth my friends were at, but now I’m hoping that maybe just myself might be enough company for now.”
“Anything is possible.” I say. She’s flirty, but doesn’t seem bad. Makes sense, this place certainly seems like the kind of locale to take a date or find one. I’ll humor her for now, but if she’s got friends here then she won’t have her night ruined if she’s dismissed by the ‘interesting and exotic’ human.
“It certainly is. Would you mind if I sat with you?”
“Go ahead.” She accepts my response and sidles around to sit at the table beside me. There’s still some room between us, so at least she’s respecting my personal space. She’s being really nice, honestly. I feel kinda bad for her that she’s spending this kind of effort on a guy with zero interest. “So you clearly know my name, what’s yours?”
“Hmmm.” She ponders for a moment before grinning flirtatiously. “Maybe I’ll tell you if I decide you’re worth it.”
Oh, she wants to play that game, does she? “Well, so far I’m worth about six minutes and a glass of water. So at least you’ve got higher standards than that.”
“Why wouldn’t I have higher standards than that? You expect them to be lower?” She asks curiously, though I can tell she’s having some fun.
“I’ve had mares come up to me and ask for dates with barely more than a shallow introduction. Not to mention the letters I receive from both mares and stallions that contain various and sometimes explicit invitations.” I shrug. “Either they think I’m easy, or they’re the easy ones themselves.”
“Well, I don’t mind a bit of challenge. Besides, it’s good to know that I’m already a cut above average.” She crows.
“Average is easy to rise above.” I state plainly. “Being exceptional is an overrated achievement.”
“But slaying monsters isn’t.” she adds quickly.
“Ah, is that it? You’re interested in the great hero, savior of ponies and thwarter of dreadful evils?” I reply, hoping she catches the derision in my voice.
“What if I said it was because I thought you looked lonely and could use some company?” the mare suggests and I have to chuckle. “A clever, charming and famous stallion like you, in a place like this all alone? I had to do something.”
“Stallion?” I question pointedly. “I’m not a stallion. I am a man. I don’t happen to be a pony, you see.”
She retreats a bit at her mistake. “I do see. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had your own word. I hope I haven’t insulted you.”
A waiter comes by and places two glasses of water on the table, supported by coasters. I lift my drink and smell it to make sure it doesn’t have anything in it. I don’t smell anything but the faint scents that are around the room already, so I figure it’s safe and take a drink. Mmm, I guess I wasn’t as thirsty as I thought. “No more insult than every other pony who’s applied their race-specific equine-based adjectives to me. I’m used to it, but it bears correction.”
“Of course. I’m sorry, it’s just odd for somepony in Canterlot to-”
“Someone” I interject. “I’m not a pony.”
“R- right. Oh, I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?” She says bashfully.
“No big deal.” I wave it off. “It’s not like you’re used to dealing with aliens. I assume that’s what you were meaning to say.”
She just nods and takes a sip of her water. I see another mare walk up to the table and start talking to my ‘company’. “Ammy? Ammy, is he coming with us?”
I look to the mare I’d been talking with and grin. “Ammy, huh? So that’s your name. Friend of yours, I assume.”
‘Ammy’ looks perturbedly at her friend. “Glitter, seriously? I was making progress here.”
“Progress? You said you were gonna try inviting him over to us, and it looks like you’re bogarting him.” ‘Glitter’ says exasperatedly, as if I am a possession to be bogarted in the first place. “Come on, just invite him over. Maybe show a bit of flank and he’ll-”
‘Ammy’ puts a hoof over her friend’s mouth and laughs. “Oh don’t mind her, she’s just a bit desperate is all.”
‘Glitter’ pushes ‘Ammy’s hoof away. “No way, Saffy is the desperate one. You said you were gonna get us all a catch to share, and it looks like you’re barely trying.”
I have a few ideas of how to respond to this, but I settle on my decision easily. “Don’t mind me, ladies. I’m just sitting here, being treated like I’m not entirely within earshot of everything.”
‘Glitter’ shakes her head and her mane loosens a bit, with a look in her eyes that I’m not too keen on. “Sorry about Amethyst. She’s kinda boring sometimes, so we can leave her behind if you want. How about this offer? You come with me, and there’ll be two mares more than willing to blow off your steam.” She draws her tongue slowly across her lip, leaving no question to her hinting.
Amethyst lays her cheek on the table and sighs in exasperation. “I’m so sorry, Glitter is from Fetlock, she’s not one for tact. Countryfolk, you know? Not a spit of manners to them, right? Heh...”
I frown at both of them. “Countryfolk aren’t a problem, there are plenty of well-mannered ponies in Ponyville... where I live.” I’ve found by now that most of Canterlot considers Ponyville the dirtiest of dirt-towns, and this is reflected in Amethyst looking horrified at realizing her unintended insult. “As for you, miss Glitter... that may work on stallions, but men like myself have standards. It takes more than implied fellatio to make me walk off with a group of mares I’ve never met before and whose names I only learned via accidental conversation I wasn’t part of.”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty of time to learn our names, mister Antony.” Glitter continues unaffected. This time, getting the name wrong ticks me off. “Come on, show some nice mares a good time. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
I take another drink of water to cool off my temper and stand up to leave. “Evidence proves that is a promise you couldn’t possibly keep.” I state sharply as I push past Glitter and address her better-mannered friend one last time. “It was mostly nice meeting you, Amethyst.” I take my leave and I can hear Amethyst groan loudly behind me. I feel kinda bad for her, her only insults were entirely unintended and she was clearly trying to be nice... well, now she’s learned a valuable lesson about minding the company she keeps. Today’s episode was brought to you by the number five.
I won’t stand being in the same place as them, so I guess that’s the end of my time here. I make my way back to the castle. It’s a trek and a half, but I’m past the gate and walking to where my assigned room is. Guess a staff member noticed my attitude, because a serving mare asks if I’d like anything. I’m about to decline but considering I’ve had a calm relaxing night very abruptly ruined... “If it won’t be any trouble or cost anything, I’d like some scotch and ice brought to my room.”
She nods. “Of course, sir. Any particular preference for variety?”
“Nothing expensive, I don’t care beyond that.” I say, and realize I sound rather snippy. “Sorry if I’m being short, I’m not mad at you or anything.”
“It’s no problem at all.” The mare says with a warm smile. “I’m sure you’d like to destress. I’ll have somepony come by and bring you the scotch. Have a good evening.”
I nod. “Yeah, you too. Thanks.”
I resume my walk up to the room and I’m only inside for a few minutes when there’s a knock on the door. I call for them to come in and a different mare enters and leaves a tray with a small bottle of booze and a lowball glass on a table by the door, another one bringing a small pail of ice. “Is there anything else you’d like, sir?”
I’m still perturbed by being called that in such a setting. “Yeah, tell the staff to not call me ‘Sir’ so much, just ‘Anthony’ is fine. I’m not one for titular pleasantries.”
“Of course. I apologize on our collective behalf if we upset you.” One of the servers says. “You just call if there is anything else you desire.”
I nod, and that’s enough to dismiss them. I plonk a couple of ice chunks into the glass and pour the scotch over them. I look at the shallow liquid and figure there’s no harm in indulging. I pour a couple more ounces worth. I wonder if this is enough to make me count as an alcoholic, even though I’ve only gotten drunk once in my entire life. Can’t even remember enough to know how I was convinced I should push my limit. It’s been quite the night. At least all that crap has tired me out. Between that and my triple-sized nightcap, I should be sleeping through the rest of it just fine.
I sigh as I tip the glass over my lip and stare out the closed glass door to the balcony. It’s rather nice out, actually. Not nice enough to want to go out again, maybe tomorrow, but... It’s interesting being in such a large and opulent room, able to look down on the highest-class citizenry of the whole nation. I don’t belong in Equestria in general... but I especially don’t belong here. It just doesn’t fit me. I sigh again, knowing that I won’t argue with how well I’m being treated, much as I would prefer the treatment to be much less formal. The moon is starting to go down, I should probably try to sleep once I’ve finished.
Tomorrow is another day...