• Published 27th Oct 2011
  • 4,519 Views, 106 Comments

Blue Days - BlackM

Blues is having a bad day. Can the Mane Six make it better?

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Loyalty to Misfortune

Loyalty to Misfortune


An hour had passed since Blues last looked at the clock. It was two fourteen and he had yet to move from his spot at his kitchen table. He was already into his second book as he already read most of the first book prior to leaving the library. An empty cup with traces of milk stood to his left along with a small plate where he ate his donuts from, evident from the crumbs still left on it. The bag lay on its side near the dishes, bearing one last donut and a few complimentary napkins. On his right lay a short pile of books he was to read next, with the previous book carelessly pushed aside to distinguish it from the unread ones.

Blues decided to take a break as he leaned backwards against his chair and stretched his arms out, exhausting a much needed sigh as his muscles felt refreshed. He smacked his mouth his tongue, reliving the taste of milk and sweet pastries that made up much of his lunch; at least the milk in his fridge was still fresh. The stallion took a moment to look around his home and acknowledged how quiet it was, save for the ticking of a healthy clock.

The kitchen consisted of the basic stove, sink, and fridge combo of any home. The sink was right behind Blues and the fridge stood next to it. The stove was cut off by these appliances by the countertop and cabinets, giving room for toasters and breadboxes to be placed. All of this was separated by the rest of the house by a quarter cut wall leading into his bedroom slash living room. A single bed sat in its center with a TV against the window and by the door, and a double door cabinet and drawers on the other side. And by the pathetic doorway to the kitchen was the bathroom shielded off by half a wall. Cream colored tiles and a bathtub could be seen from the doorway, with a toilet just out of sight around the corner.

It wasn’t really much of a living if you could call it more than a room cut into three boxes. But to Blues, it was better than nothing.

Blues sighed a relaxingly. It was relatively calm and soothing in his home at the moment, and a full stomach and cool temperatures brought about sleepiness within him. But he knew he couldn’t nap now. He had books to read.

He looked back into his book and continued from where he left off. He was reading a page that detailed the clothing of the fancily clad and described what each one represented.

“Hmm, ‘Monocles are the classic apparel of stallions well older than thirty. It is a defining trait of those who have long been in resource of money and defines wisdom, experience, and utter disapproval of symmetry as if to say, ‘I say, I could care less about wearing a glass for both eyes’.’…” Blues quoted as he read, “…where do I find a monocle shop in Ponyville?”

It suddenly hit Blues a minor detail he overlooked when he rented these books. Where was he going to find a store in the village that sold all these fancy clothes?

“Well, they have a Quills and Sofa shop,” he said to himself, “It shouldn’t be too hard find a specific-”


Blues jumped at the harsh boom, so much that his empty cup fell over.

“The heck was that?” he asked no one in particular.

Blues lifted himself from his seat and looked around the room for a window. It sounded like lightning, he thought as he observed through a window over the sink. The stallion leaned over the sink to get a better look outside. There were only a few small clouds in the sky and none were dark enough to make even a big thunderbolt. Was it some childish pegasus prank?

“Not many flyers in Ponyville…” he said to himself as he stepped back.

The stallion grunted as he rubbed his ear with a hoof. Prank or not, the noise left an annoying ring in his ear that reverberated in its own volume. It would be a while before it went away, he thought.

Ah well. He had to get back to reading. At least the crack of thunder killed any sleep he had.

“Back to reading,” he said, “…‘A top hat is your most important article of clothing you could wear to a fancy party. Top hats are infamous for making any pony who wears it to look incredibly high fashioned and demonstrating of class. It is popularly worn by dancers, magicians, ring leaders, and others who are in charge of certain programs. The top hat defines experienced control and a sense of affability, meaning the wearer not only has skill in his art, but also…”

Blues stopped himself as his nose picked up a foreboding scent in the air. It smelled dank, like burning coal, only it had traces of other chemicals unfamiliar to him.

“…is Dinky playing with the matches again?” Blues said to himself.

Living next to the pony who delivered mail, there was also her even stranger niece unicorn named Dinky. Despite being her guardian, Ditzy Doo couldn’t be around as often as she’d like to keep Dinky out of trouble. There was usually a babysitter or her older sister there, or some helpful neighbors that kept an eye on her. But more often than not, the filly would go outside and explore on her own. Dinky enjoyed discovering new things and finding curious gadgets and items and learned what she could about them with a hooves-on experience. Though a nobly curious mindset, this brought about dire consequences depending on what she found.

He still shuddered at the fireworks incident.

Nevertheless, this was for the filly’s safety, the stallion thought as he stood from his chair. Blues abandoned his books and headed out the door in search of the unicorn who may have found something combustible, again.

At first, there was no pony at ground level, as well as no one he could see in the distance. Maybe she was around the apartment? Blues climbed down the stairs at a calm pace, despite the danger of a filly playing with fire. Once down, he circled around the building and still saw no sight of the filly, or any other pony who may have seen her. Maybe some pony was having a barbecue nearby? Blues thought on that for a while as he gave the building another look around. No barbecue, not even from the nearby houses. No Dinky either. Maybe she wasn’t around?

Blues sighed. It seems like he wasted his time. As he climbed the stairs, he could still smell the faint air of smoke. It was probably from some pony’s chimney and the apartments happened to be downwind. He wondered why he hadn’t ever caught the scent before, living in the apartment for a few years now, but he couldn’t waste his time thinking as he had some reading to do.

He walked into his apartment and sighed disappointingly. The clock read two thirty-three. He needed to find time to look for a store that sold him the clothes he needed to wear and somehow spend the rest of the day with Rarity, if he were to succeed. Even if she were to deny him still, at least he’d be prepared to woo the next mare of his interest, once he recovers from the inevitable depression.

It was a depressing thought, but he already had so much planned for today, all at his expense. He wasn’t going to quit now, especially when he had so much help today from strangers, strangers who helped him practice how to ask out a mare on a date, strangers who taught him about the mare of his dreams, strangers who loaned him books free of charge. He didn’t want to make all of their efforts in vain. He wanted to repay them with success, or fail trying.

For the first time in his life, Blues felt confident about himself.

But now was not the time to feel cocky, he thought as he sat back down at his table. He decided he would spend another hour on these books before using what he’s learned to find the appropriate clothing before the date. He already had a few places in mind if he could not find everything in one store.

As Blues read through the pages, he couldn’t help but notice that his once comfortable abode was beginning to stifle from an unknown increase in heat. He tried to ignore it as he read on, but a loose drip of sweat landing on the page before him brought to his attention the increase in temperature. He groaned frustratingly. Just great, he thought. He hoped that wouldn’t leave a stain in the paper. Wiping his forehead of sweat, the stallion decided to get off of his lazy rump and open a window to let some cool air flow in.

But as he did, he noticed a crowd of ponies below looking at his apartment in awe. Curious, he leaned over to see just what the crowd was there for and saw a few of his neighbors in it as well. They all seemed to be murmuring at something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t about him.

Curiosity got the better of Blues as he walked out of his kitchen and out the door to greet the sudden crowd of ponies outside the apartment. He looked down expecting something like a choir or a protest, but they still weren’t looking at him. And for some odd reason, the smell of smoke was stronger in the air now that he was outside.

It finally clicked in Blues’ mind just what the commotion was about.

“Fire!! There’s a fire in there!!” a pony from the crowd shouted

Well, that and the sound of a ceiling collapsing behind him as well.

Looking back, to his horror, Blues saw that the kitchen of his home was under flames as the roof caved in on it. Panicked, Blues ran back inside despite the pleas of the crowd behind him. He rushed to the kitchen where the fire was and looked for the books he was reading. His heart sank as he saw one such book under attack by a burning stake. Hurriedly, the stallion tipped the table over, dropping the rest of the books away from the flames, and kicked the currently burning stake away from the books. As fast as he could, the stallion stomped out the flames, trying to preserve what he could of the book from the fire. As the flames died, he could hear ominous cracking from the ceiling above him. It wasn’t safe to stay there any longer.

Blues had one more object to fetch from his home before he could escape. Thinking quickly, the stallion threw all four of his books out the window, not caring if they were to strike any pony below. The kitchen cleared, Blues galloped to his drawer by the bed and opened it, looking for something precious to him. He sifted through each one until he remembered where he left it. Abandoning the furniture, he dived under the bed and found what he was looking for.

His saxophone, safely locked in its black case.

He grabbed the case with his teeth and retreated from under the bed as swiftly as he dove down. Seeing the fire swarming the kitchen, he ran for the exit, but stopped as the roof caved in again. He narrowly avoided the flames and the burning wood from falling on him, but now it had trapped him in his own house as it blocked the exit.

‘Not really trapped, I have a clear way to my right,’ Blues thought.

Err…yeah. But, that’s not very exciting…

Blues groaned as he ignored the words in his head, running under the flaming wood and bolting out the door. The flames had swallowed most of the building that made up his apartment, evident by the fire spilling out his window. Thankfully, the stairs were free of flames, allowing him to escape to ground level and safety.

When he arrived, there was already a fire truck and a few of their workers in the sky, gathering clouds to use their rain water for the fire. One of the fireponies, a deep brown coat and grey mane and mustache on his face, approached him with a serious look on his face.

“Were you the only one in that room?” he asked quickly, urging a quick answer.

Blues left his saxophone on the ground to speak, “Yeah, it was just me. What the heck happened?”

The worker sighed, apparently not sure either, “There was a thunderbolt that struck the building, shorted out the electricity and caused a fire.”

Blues pondered that. So a lightning bolt struck his house? He didn’t have any electrical devices on when it struck, at least none he would have noticed had they have turned off. It also explained the smell of smoke from earlier. Something was still off to him, though.

“But where’d that thunderbolt come from?” Blues asked.

“That’s what we’re wondering too. Only a pegasus could’ve made that lightning bolt in this weather if they tried hard enough, but no one saw any in the sky,” he explained.

Blues groaned as he looked to the pegasi stomping rain water into his room. Just his luck. A lightning bolt from out of nowhere just had to strike his apartment. And it just had to set fire to his part of the building. Hopefully the landlord won’t make him pay for the damage. Most of the furniture in there came with the rent.

He was reminded of the books he tossed out of the window to save from the fire. Looking around quickly, he saw them lying on the ground with a horribly burnt one being inspect by a firepony. He trotted over hoping to recollect them, but he had little hope for the one he couldn’t save.

“Um, those books are mine,” he spoke up modestly as the worker turned to him.

“Oh are they?” he said as he closed the book like a lost cause, “You were the one who threw them out the window?”

“Err, yeah. They’re not really mine’s…” Blues answered as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Hmph. You were lucky I was wearing a hard hat,” the stallion tapped his helmet a few times for emphasis.

Blues gulped. He didn’t mean to hurt another pony like that, at least not intentionally. But he wasn’t thinking about it, he only had saving the books on his mind since he hadn’t paid for them, or rather the subscription to a library card. But it was just plain unfortunate that a single harmless day of renting a free book wounded up destroying it in a fire. It wasn’t his fault at the very least, but excuses excuses, this book was going to cost him dearly.

The firepony walked away, leaving Blues to collect the books strewn on the floor. He sighed as he trotted closer to the destroyed book, wondering how much it was going to cost. His eyes widened. He gulped. The stallion’s heart sank as he read the title.

Eggheads Guide to Sophistication.

The librarian was going to have his wallet on a platter.