//------------------------------//
// The Tone of A Tune 
// Story: The Colors Of A New World 
// by LordOfTape 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 8: The Tone of A Tune
A bubbling blast of Pink flew in front of my face. “If you don’t agree, do something about it.”
“What in the!?” I screamed in panic, jumping from the scare.
“Whoops, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She apologized, frowning slightly.
I allowed a soft smile to take over from my heavy breathing, “It’s alright Pinkie.” 
“Okie dokie lokie!” she cried out, laughing.
I laughed along with her, enjoying the moment. Our uproar continued on for quite awhile. I wasn’t exactly sure what was so funny, but it felt good to simply laugh and smile with Pinkie. We laughed for hours and hours, laughing even as our guts began to hurt. I was just too happy, too excited, too alive to care about anything but laughter. 
Soon enough though, as with all great things, our laughter began to cease. A slow trickle of ponies came walking down the stairs to the giant room. The trickle quickly morphed into a flow, which in turn became a rush. Ponies crowded the tables and the dance floor. There were so many different kinds, from stallions to mares, pegasi to unicorns, merchants to artists. They were so many colors and personalities that I just couldn’t contain my joy. There were greens and blues and reds mixed with the finest purples and yellows. I could see orange ponies and pink ponies, grey manes and flowing tanned tails. 
New and intriguing sounds radiated from the mouths of these strangers. Noises bounced off of the walls and collided with each other in a crashing and harmonious melody. I looked around with my eyes, yes, taking in the colors; but I also looked around with my ears. Such interesting ponies these were. Some came all the way from Manehatten, others from Fillydelphia. This really was the greatest party in all of Equestria.
The delighted Pinkie Pie bounced her way on stage and grabbed the microphone with her hoof. Clearing her throat, she garnered everyponies attention. 
“Are you ponies ready to party!” she screamed at us.
A bedlam of phrases all amounting to the consensus of ‘yes’ rang out through the room.
Pretending as if she had not heard the ponies calls, she asked again, “I said, are you ponies ready to PARTAY?!” 
Although it had seemed impossible, an even louder response met her calls for absurd partying levels. Dang, these ponies were excited. Guess it made sense though, considering I was excited too. Just the feeling around the room made me energized and ready to go. Not unlike in my race with Applejack, the adrenaline pumped back into my veins and flushed every emotion right out of me. It was time to have some fun, and that’s all I wanted to do.
Vinyl trotted over to Pinkie on the stage and whispered something in her ear. Pinkie let out an overly surprised gasp as usual. It looked as though Vinyl was worried about something. Stage fright perhaps? I doubt it, considering the DJ pony’s prior experience. As I pondered the possible explanations, Pinkie picked up the mic again.
“We’re having some uh…technical difficulties, so grab some cider and cake and we’ll get this music going!” she yelled into the mic, slightly worried herself.
I started a slow trot through the sea of hooves to try and reach her and find out what was wrong. It didn’t take long though as she was headed right at me. Running through the crowd, she pushed her way right into my chest, crashing into me with a force hard enough to knock me over.
“Ah,” I coughed “What was that for Pinkie?”
“Oh Drumroll! Just the pony I needed!” her voice was still loud, even without the microphone.
“Me? What for? And what’s wrong with the band?” I asked her.
“But that’s the same thing!”
“What?”
“Backbeat never showed up! They have no idea where he is, we don’t even know if he’s in Equestria!”
Was there any other place here other than Equestria? That might be something to look into later. But for now, the band was short one member and couldn’t play.
“Well what did he play?” I asked. The more information I had, the better I could help. 
“He was their drummer, duh.” She spat back sarcastically. 
“Drummer? Oh man, you can’t have a band without a drummer. Where are you gonna find –” I stopped myself midsentence when I saw pinkie starring at me with her big eyes and sparkly smile.
“Oh, wait, no. Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-no, not me.” I said, slowly backing away.
The preposterous pink pony pouted angrily, “But your name is Drumroll. Doesn’t that make you a drummer?”
I was lost for trying to find a way to phrase myself out of the question. Pinkie had me trapped between rock and hard place. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play, I loved the drums; it was just that I had never played in front of a crowd of people I didn’t know. Plus, I always had some practice with the songs before going on when I did perform. And I mean…hooves? How could I hold a drumstick with hooves?
“Pinkie, I’m sorry. I’ve been in the hospital for so long and I’m out of practice and I…” I tried to think of more excuses, but the more I talked, the more deflated her hair became. 
“Oh,” she sniffled several times “I understand. I guess I’ll just cancel the music. We can still have a party without music right?”
The newly transformed Pinkemina Diane Pie turned slowly with a bowed head as she returned to the stage. I felt awful. It took a lot to make Pinkie this sad. I would’ve thought she’d have argued with me more to play, but that wasn’t the case. Why didn’t I just say yes? Why was I letting her down, after all she did to cheer me up? Why was I being so cowardly? 
I figured it would be best if I left. Pinkie would be in no mood to party anymore, and seeing me would probably just make it worse. Resolved to leave, I hung my head in shame. And thank god I did, because on the ground where Pinkie stood was a pair of drumsticks. I bent down and picked up the sticks with my teeth. It was an odd thing to do after realizing it, but somehow it felt natural. I tried gripping the sticks with my hooves. It didn’t work out so well; I dropped both of them.
I figured unicorn’s were probably the only ones who could use them, through magic and the whatnot. It saddened me more to think that even if I did want to help, I wouldn’t be able to. With every second wearing on my motive to stay, I took a last look at the sticks and sighed. Upon closer inspection, I found some writing on the side, just like any real drumstick.
It read, “Property of Equestria’s Greatest Pegasus Drummer.”
That couldn’t be right? Pegasus drummer? But how could he…my mind trailed off. Episodes of the show replayed scenes in my head. I thought of all of the interesting scenes with pegasi. The things they did with their wings. Several episodes dug in, and I remembered that pegasi could use their wings as if they were hands.
I looked back at my own wings. Still as large and orange as ever, they did little more than bewilder me. I had spent the majority of my fall trying to learn how to use them, and after that I hadn’t even tried. The pain was too much. Even now I could still feel the sting. It wasn’t an earth shattering pain anymore though, which was a bonus. Contemplating the risks, I untied the bandages from my feathers and spread them as best I could. 
Tingling sensations reverberated throughout my body. It was such an odd, new feeling. Stretching my wings, I allowed them to travel in any directions they pleased, finding which ones worked and which didn’t. I glanced back at the ground and saw the sticks lying there, just waiting to be used. Reaching over with my left wing, I tried picking one up. Success! Next was the right. Equally a success!
Smile beaming ear to ear, I tried playing the drums in the air, motioning where the actual drums would be. It was different than from back home, but the concept was still the same. It didn’t take long to feel comfortable with the idea of playing as a pegasus, and soon enough I was directing myself at the stage.
Pinkie, hair flattened and spirits damp, grabbed the mic slowly and tapped it. Clearing her throat once again, she announced, “Everypony, I’ve got an announcement.”
No, she was going to cancel the show! I couldn’t let that happen, so I sprinted to the stage, unfortunately knocking a few ponies over in the process. Only a few feet from the stage, I jumped with all of my might. Although they were behind me, I could sense the eyes on the entire crowd land on me. Everypony was watching. I landed with a resound thunk, right behind Pinkie Pie. I waved my drumsticks at Vinyl and Octavia and nodded at Blues.
Octavia walked over to Pinkie, now stunned herself by what had just happened, and whispered in her ear. Instantly the depressed pony shot into the air like a rocket. Actually, she really did launch off of the ground like a rocket. Upon landing in a normal Pinkie way, covered in random confetti from nowhere, she spoke again to the crowd.
“The Equestrian Equinox has got a new drummer tonight! So put your hooves together for Vinyl Scratch, Octavia Minors, Blues Keynote, and Drumroll!”
The gigantic crowd of party ponies cheered in an overwhelming uproar of praise. The band members must’ve been awaiting this moment all night because I could see how happy they were to be able to play. Vinyl picked up an electric guitar with her magic and lifted the strap over her head. Octavia picked up her bow and began strumming the bass line to the first song. Blues sat himself down, much like Lyra did, and began following along on his keyboard.
I found myself behind the drum set that I had seen earlier, the one I so highly praised. It was top quality and in perfect condition. I looked and saw two foot, or, hoof pedals. One for the bass and the other for the hi-hat. I situated myself and looked for some kind of cue. It was only at this moment that it sunk in that I had no idea what I was doing with this band. Vinyl struck a note on her guitar, looked back at me and winked. I looked at Octavia and Blues, both did the same.
Closing my eyes, I listened to the tones that they laid down and tried to find the beat. It wasn’t there. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hear the beat. I began to panic, sweat dripping from my forehead into my eyes. Shaking in a near paralysis, I stomped my hoof firmly on the ground. In some random twist of fate, my hoof hit the bass pedal, resulting in a loud ‘thud’.
That thud set something off inside of my head, waking a sleeping beast in the back of my mind. As my trembling eyes opened, a new sense of strength composed me and I hit the pedal again. And again, and again, and again. Not even cringing at the slight pain it caused me to move my wings, I began to play on the cymbals and drums in sequence. Each note a new surge of control, each chord a new sense of direction. Taking in the sounds of the band with my ears, I focused my other senses into following along. Beat upon beat I felt myself getting better, adapting to my new situation. 
The song continued, the music floated in the air like a wandering wisp, searching for a home. As I played, I watched that wisp drift with my eyes. So peaceful and full of untapped potential, existing in a world of its own design, guided by forces beyond its control, the wisp continued to float. It was golden of sparkled with the sheen of the sun. Trails of melodious dust faded behind the majestic creature. It was so intoxicating, so ingenious that I just had to have it.
Gripping my drumsticks with a new ferocity, I began hammering out the most complex and rhythmic tunes I could. Each resounded beat of the drum brought the golden spirit closer and closer to my grasp. My purpose of existence was now, and forever, to catch that intangible wind of musical intelligence. 
In the back of my mind I heard the cessation of the other instrument and the call of the microphone say “Hear this stallion play!”
The noise did not concern me though, not nearly as much as the wisp. And with it so close, I pulled out every last ounce of my ability. My wings flared wildly about and the sticks they carried followed. No longer could I even hear the beat of the drums, but only the quickening beat of my heart.  At the peak of my insane battering, the golden specter dashed into my eyes, filling me with its mysterious wonder.
The next thing I knew, the crowd was jumping up and down, cheering for more. Dazed, I looked to Vinyl who was walking over to me. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. 
“ Wow Drumroll, I never expected anypony to be better than Backbeat. Where’d you learn to rock out like that?” she asked, smiling with a genuine interest and praise.
“I, thank you Vinyl.” I replied. “I actually haven’t played for a while, but I kinda taught myself. I’m surprised I still, you know, had it in me.”
“Spectacular show, Drumroll. Simply extravagant!” Octavia chimed in.
“Totally! You really saved our flanks, Roll. And you did it in some serious style.” Blues thank me.
Octavia was staring at me with inquisitive eyes. I wasn’t completely sure why, but soon enough, Vinyl and Blues joined in.
“Uh guys, what’re you staring at?”
“Your cutie mark!” shouted Vinyl.
My eyes opened wide with the prospect of finally seeing my cutie mark. Being a blank flank had its benefits, but it was always a hope in the back of my head that I would get my mark. Craning my neck to see my flank, it revealed a symbol I was very familiar with. Two drumsticks, heads up, crossed over each other in the shape of an X.
My cutie mark, drumsticks. I was truly meant to be a drummer. Not only that, but I had just played an amazing show. The four of us whooped and hollered for me and finding my cutie mark. I was star struck. My first real show, a complete success. It was almost bittersweet in a way, having it be in Equestria and not, well, my earth.  But those negative thoughts were cast aside as the crowd’s echo worked its way back into my ears. It was equally promising that maybe if my talent here was drumming, perhaps the same was meant for me back home?
“I think they want an encore.” Said Blues.
With a smirk and a flick of my drumsticks, I said “Then let’s give ‘em one.”
Although the rush of the previous portion of the night wasn’t present, I was still overjoyed to play. Nothing could have made that night any better. After we finished the encore, we thanked the party crowd like any good band and walked offstage. Ponies lined up to get autographs from the three of them. They did have quite the reputation after all. 
Not wanting to interrupt, I walked away from the scene, or at least I tried to. Mares and stallions alike flocked even to me, either to congratulate me and or ask for an autograph. When I said this night couldn’t have gotten better….I lied.
Tying up all the loose ends with ‘fans’, the three pony musicians found me and we began to talk. Most of it was talking about how great the show went and how glad they were I showed up. I thanked them equally and told them how appreciative I was of them letting me play. In the end, we just sat down at a table and talked the night away with stories and talk of music.
It didn’t take long for Pinkie Pie to find us, given our risen status at the event, and when she did, she changed everything.
“Oh my gosh you guys that was like, the best show ever! Even better than the Cake’s baking which is really saying something. Although maybe not as good as the their last cake, that cake was really really good. But well, hmm, yeah you know it was better than that, except it didn’t taste better, just sounded  better, cause you know, cakes don’t really make noises, except when you eat them and they go ‘om’nom’nom’. Mmm, cakes are so tasty. Oh so why was I here again? Oh yeah! Cause you guys did such an awesome show, you get all the free cider you want!”
A gleeful shriek erupted from Vinyl’s mouth, “All the free cider I can drink! YES!”
Blues and Octavia shared in her mirth, “Get us some too!”
I was expecting…well maybe Vinyl, but not these high class ponies to drink alcohol. Maybe wine or something, but I guess everyone, urgh, everyPONY has their own taste.
“What about you, Drumroll?” Pinkie asked.
“I’ve uh, never really had cider before.” Not wanting to sound like an idiot, I added, “From around here that is.”
“Oh well than you’ve got to try this kind! Sweet Apple Acres makes the best cider this side of Equestria.”
Feeling content and party ready, I agreed. “Sure thing, bring me as much as everypony else!”
As our boisterous host left to fetch a boatload of cider for the band, I let the roar of the crowd once again take over my mind. Vinyl had left her record playing on her turntables when we weren’t playing so that everypony could still enjoy dancing and music, so I could still hear the banging in the background.
Even throughout all of the random noise, I could still, however unfortunate or fortunate it was, hear the voices murmuring on my shoulders like a conscious. 
To the left, “Remember Applejack.”
To the right, “Now it’s time to party.”