//------------------------------// // She's asking for it! You hear me?! // Story: A Chromatic Scale // by eLLen //------------------------------// “Say it.” “No.” “Say it!” “Not happenin’!” “You don’t understand, Applejack. I need to hear this.” The farm mare glared at me, sending me an expression that could only ask, “Really?” She shook her head, then took a sip of her cider. “Ah’m not sayin’ nothin’. ‘Specially not to the likes of you.” She wants to play this game? Heh, I invented this game. “What’s this?” I exclaimed, tossing my hooves in the air, “Good old Honest Applejack is refusing to admit the truth? Just what has this world come—” “That ain’t gonna work, Rainbow,” she deadpanned, taking another swig from her mug. “Oh, don’t deny you weren’t impressed. I saw that look on your face. Priceless, by the way.” “Ah ain’t admittin’ nothin’! I was just caught off guard, is all.” Rolling my eyes, I said, “Because you were so amazed by my awesomeness. I would’ve thought you would be used to it by now, but hey, I guess I’m just in a league all my own.” “The only thing here in a league its own,” she shot back, “is the size of your ego.” “I call it a bit of healthy pride.” “Keep tellin’ yourself that,” she dismissed before leaning back into her seat, crossing her arms out in front of her. I smirked at her; I knew exactly what that meant: her becoming stubborn to the point beyond reason. I guarantee those empty mugs of cider and a half were helping. I leaned back into my own chair, knowing I’d get nothing more out of her but her unshakable denial. Besides, she wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a long time. “So how’d I sound? Epic, huh?” I asked, waving my hoof in the air, gesturing to them all. “You bet, ‘Spectrum,’” Pinkie said, winking at me. “It was… nice,” Fluttershy said. “Aw, thanks, Shy,” I replied, “That means a lot coming from you.” …That wasn’t sarcasm, by the way. I turned my attention back up as Twilight cleared her throat. “Looks like Rarity wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were skilled. And after such a long hiatus since last time? I’m impressed,” she said, getting an affirming nod form the designer, “Say, did you make much?” My brow furrowed. “Make what? That music? I didn’t write it.” “No,” she replied, shaking her head, “Did you make any bits? I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” “Oh, that! Heh, I…” Reaching down, I felt for the two jars down by my saddlebag—or would have, if there wasn’t empty space where they should’ve been. “Uh…” I muttered, my eyed widening. “You forgot them, didn’t ya?” Applejack deadpanned. My mouth opened to shoot back a burning reply—trust me, it would’ve been scalding—but the sound of lost, helpless bits going to waste overruled all other priorities. “Back-in-a-flash!” I rushed out, bolting off from the chair and taking a few napkins and menus and whatever-elses with me. Ignoring the frustrated protests emanating from the other bar goers, I set down next to the stage and breathed a sigh of relief as the jars came into sight, which promptly turned into a cry of, “Only one jar got anything?” Hearing the unmistakable sound of someone scoffing, I snapped my head in its direction, meeting the sight of some rust-coated stallion raising an eyebrow at me. “What? Something to say?” I challenged, my narrowed gaze daring him to talk back. Under my harsh, unrelenting gaze, he merely rolled his eyes. “This is a small business in a small town, not the halls of Canterlot castle. What were you expecting? Both jars to be overflowing?” My eyes darted down to the jars for just a tad moment too long. His hoof met his face. “No one even knows who you are, Spectrum.” “Hey, hey, everyone knows me. I’m Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in Equestria.” “That’s true, but—” I barely noticed the smug smile on my face; apparently he did. “But!” he continued, “No one knows who Spectrum is.” This time, I did notice my facial expression. It was confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m Rainbow Dash and Spectrum, so ponies know who the latter is.” He shook his head, answering my further bewildered expression by saying, “How about this? You know who Blues is?” “The guy that performed before me?” “Yeah, but have you heard of him before that?” “Mm…” I mmed, rubbing my chin, “I think so… Doesn’t he perform whenever Ponyville is having some event going on? Like a festival?” “Right. Now, answer me this: do you know who Noteworthy is?” “…Nope. Never heard of him.” Pointing his hoof out toward Blues sitting at another table, he said, “What if I told you that Blues and Noteworthy are the same pony? See what I’m getting at?” I looked out to the pony in question. Blues and Noteworthy? I thought, But I only knew him by one name, so— “Hey, Dashie! You coming?” “Hold your horses! Just need a second,” I called back to Pinkie. Turning back to the stallion, I said, “I think I see what you mean.” He smirked, saying, “Good. Now, if you don’t mind…” He gestured back to his table. “Sure thing,” I said, getting the hint, “Thanks.” “Mmhm.” With a nod, I made a trot back to my friends, taking a seat and laying my jars—er, jar—of bits. Of course, that prompted everyone to take a look at the glass container, the empty glass container, and then to me. One certain stentson wearing farmer raised an eyebrow then opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t say a word,” I monotoned. Letting out a victorious “hmph” (which totally wasn’t a victory), she kept a smirk on me as she went for another drink. I moved to shoot her a suspicious gaze, but Pinkie pulled me away—quite literally. “What were you talking about with Rustburrow?” she asked, her foreleg interlocking into mine as I was yanked along next to her, chair and all. “Eh…” Tugging my stolen limb back to the safety of myself, I asked, “Rustburrow? You know him?” She nodded, her puffy cotton candy of a mane bouncing along for the ride. “Why wouldn’t I? I know everyone in Ponyville. Heck, his son’s birthday party a few years back is one of my favorites.” “Really? Why’s that?” I asked, actually interested. For a pony who throws parties twenty-four/seven, whether there be an occasion or not, it must have been pretty good. “You don’t remember it?” she gasped, “But you ended up being the star of the entire celebration!” “I was? Why’s that?” Now, I was really interested. “You were helping me keep everything skipping along jollily and were put in charge of the piñata when suddenly bam! The colt in the blindfold whacks right between the eyes!” My face instinctively flinched at the words. “Huh. I don’t remember that at all.” “Any idea why?” she asked, her tone rising on every word as she looked at me expectantly. I shook my head. “Beats me.” For the second time within a few minutes, everyone stared at me in silence, the exception being one party pony who just started giggling. I blinked. “…So…” Rarity cleared her throat. “Rustburrow?” “Oh, right. He told me about how Blues is well known, but Noteworthy isn’t… by ponies other than Pinkie.” “Aw…” she moaned, slowly lowering her hoof back down. “Noteworthy…” Twilight said, setting her chin down on her hoof, “Can’t say I’ve heard of him.” “Exactly.” She cocked her head. “Well, what did he mean by that?” “His persona is more notable than his actual identity, if I’m understanding this right. The Rusty guy was saying Rainbow Dash is like that—more notable than Spectrum.” “Ah, I understand,” Twilight responded, “I’ve heard of that before. It’s actually more common than you think. Remember that Nightmare Night awhile back? Princess Luna was seen as Nightmare Moon rather than herself to an extent.” “Yeah, I remember her. I remember her zapping my flank with a lightning bolt.” “Ya’ll had it comin’.” “Quiet you! Go back to your cider!” She shrugged, not finding the suggestion half bad. “Anyways…” I said, “Yeah. I’m more famous than myself. Who would’ve thought?” “Um… Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” Fluttershy added, “Since ponies already know you, wouldn’t that make getting your name out easier?” “Not necessarily,” Twilight interjected, drawing a look of surprise from Fluttershy and I, “Ponies may know you, but that’s not why they know you. You’re known for flying high and breaking everyone’s windows whenever you go supersonic, not sitting down and playing an instrument. The fact that those are about as diametrically opposed as can be just makes it worse.” Yeah, still not getting it. “So… how’s that bad thing again? I’m sure I can find ways to break windows with a piano if that’s the problem.” She twiddled her hoof aimlessly in the air as she thought. “Hm, let’s put it this way. Say you went to a Wonderbolts show, but instead of performing aerobatics and the stunts that made them famous, they sat down and performed Beethoofen’s Fifth Symphony. What would you think of that?” “I’d still love it.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course you would. But how do you think the less…” “Obsessed?” Applejack, helpful as ever, offered. I rolled my eyes. “You know, you really turn into a wise pony when you’re drunk.” “Ah’m always drunk, and Ah’m not wise!” Finally, the staring was on someone else for a change, and it took her all of five seconds to figure out why. “…Oh! A-Ah mean the other way around! Ah’m always wise… and…” “Alright,” I declared, snatching her mug away from her, “This apple has had too much cider.” Defeated, she sat back in her chair, hat pulled low and grumbling inaudibly to herself. “Heh…” I turned back to Twilight. “Now, what were we saying?” “How would someone other than you react to the Wonderbolts playing instruments instead of performing an airshow?” “Oh, yeah,” I replied, recalling her words, “Mm… I’d say there would be a lot of confusion over what’s going on.” She nodded, saying, “Exactly. I believe this is what Rustburrow was trying to tell you. Everyone knows you as the flier pegasus, not the musical pegasus.” With that, my lips curled into a disappointed frown, my ears folding backwards. “So that’s it? I can’t be a pianist and a flier? I have to choose one or the other.” “Not so fast.” Twilight reacted, perking my attention again, “As much as you’d hate to admit it, you’re not in the Wonderbolts yet. I’d say it’s not too late to build up a reputation as a musician.” “Really? How would I do that?” “I’d say to—” “Ooh! Ooh! Can I answer this one?” Pinkie interrupted. The Princess of Librarians shrugged, then gestured for her to go ahead. “Okie-dokie-lokie!” She turned to me, beaming in her own brilliance. “Do it in the traditional Dashie style: with a bang!” Applejack, surprisingly, actually spoke up again from the realm of blurred senses. “Good idea,” she said, “Rainbow’s great at banging.” If one can hear five sets of eyes widening simultaneously, it would’ve been an orchestra right then and there. Four of said pairs promptly reintroduced me to the house of awkward, silent staring for the third and hopefully final. I shook myself back to my senses before saying, “I have no idea what she’s talking about.” “Oh, what’s the matter, Dashie?” Applejack taunted, much to my growing chagrin, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. We all have our quirks… Heh, you certainly do.” “Gah! I-I…” Stop sputtering and defend yourself! “You’re lying,” I shot back, the horrible choice of words coming out faster than my hoof could cover my mouth. She smirked an evil, knowing grin. I had just made it so easy for her! “Now, now,” she said, “We all know Ah’m good old Honest Applejack, remember? Ah don’t lie.” I recoiled backward, the words hitting me like a train. A smug, drunk, stentson wearin’ train. “Uh… heh… she has a…” I heard Twilight say, which promptly earned her a glare that commanded, “Stay out of this.” Needless to say, she decided to comply. Staring into those cocky eyes of hers, I could practically feel the pure evil coming from her. She’s totally doing this on purpose, using her own drunkenness to get back at me. Heck, the fact that she’s taking herself down with me just makes her look more believable—in other words, she sinking the boat to get the captain. “You’re making this up,” I challenged, “Just because you were the Element of Honesty doesn’t mean you can’t lie.” I crossed my forelimbs, doing my best haughty impression. “But enough of this. I have the much more important deal of my own future in music to plan out.” She met my gaze for one moment, her eyes half lidded and her lips smiling widely. “Alright,” she said simply. Waving her hoof at me, she went back to her reclining position, but not before taking one last stab at me. “I win,” she mouthed. Oh, no! Teeth gritting, I sent the most withering glare I had at her. She merely ignored me, content to bask in the knowledge that anything more out of my mouth would just help her. Well fine, I decided, We’re even… for now. Grumbling, myself, I turned back to Twilight, who was finding the nearby walls quite interesting along with the rest of the gang (save for the party pony who just kept giggling to herself as always). “Pinkie suggested to get my name out there with a ba—a blast. Any suggestions?” “Uh… Put on a concert?” I shook my head. “I would, but I don’t know enough songs right now to go on for an hour straight. …Huh. I really am out of practice…” “Maybe just do that? Practice?” Rarity suggested, “At least until you feel you’re ready.” I just gave a noncommittal shrug in return. That made sense; I’ve practiced my flying enough to know just how important it is. Nonetheless, I’m a… little bit impatient… sometimes… like now, for instance. Thinking back on my flying, what did I do in that to build up my reputation? “…Wait, I know! I’ll do what I do best!” “Banging?” Pinkie suggested, trying and failing to hold back a fit of laughter with a hoof to her mouth. “Yeah! …Wait, no! No! Forget about that! I’m talking about racing, or in this case, competing. I’ll win competitions!” “That could work,” Twilight agreed, taking a sip of her own drink, before setting it back down, gagging at the taste. “You know,” she added, “Piano bars like this one often have ‘duels’ where musicians face off for the crowd.” “Really? Great! Now I just need someone to obliterate… Be right back!” Jumping out of my seat, my sight danced around the premises, searching through the plethora of ponies dining and drinking until I found the target. Smirking, I took a wing propelled bound over to him, setting down right by his side. I earned myself a curious glance, but it was his attention nonetheless. “Blues! I challenge you to a music duel. Right here. Right now.” He blinked, caught off guard for a moment, but then looked at the guys sitting at his table. He shrugged, which they promptly shrugged back to, apparently having a full conversation through gestures. Looking back at me, he said, “I’ll admit this is a bit unorthodox and sudden, but why not? I’ll tell the keep to set things up.” “Awesome! I hope you’re ready to be swept aside!” “We’ll see…” he chuckled, leaving his seat and heading to the bar. Smiling victoriously to myself, I turned to head back to my no-doubt confused group of friends. “She has no idea what she’s getting into.” My head whipped around, and I stared down the ponies at the table through a narrowed gaze. Not one of them even acknowledged me, as if they hadn’t said anything. Whatever, I thought, taking my leave once again. I’ll show them. “What did you just do?” Twilight asked as I returned. “Just challenged Blues to a duel.” “What?!” “I know, right? It’s going to start any minute.” “No, Rainbow! Why would you do that?” My brow furrowing, I replied, “Why not? You suggested a duel.” “Yes, but not like this. Don’t you realize who Blues is?” “Um… a blue pony who plays the blues?” Her hoof met her face. “Ugh… Let me put it this way: he’s been voted Ponyville’s top musician for six years and running.” “…Oops.” A pink-coated hoof wrapped around me, followed by Pinkie flashing me a confident smile. “Aw, don’t worry. What’s the worst that could happen?” Needless to say, I didn’t share in her enthusiasm. I perked my ear as a whistle flowed through the air. Tracing it to its origin, I saw the barkeep next to Blues and gesturing me over. Well, I thought, This might have been a mistake.