• Published 6th Apr 2012
  • 1,589 Views, 133 Comments

The Colors Of A New World - LordOfTape

I've finally made it Ponyville, but what in the world is going on?

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A Little Pink In Your Palette

Chapter 7: A Little Pink In Your Palette

When would these voices leave me alone? I mean, were they even there at all? Perhaps I was just listening to the thoughts of my own wandering mind. Who knew? I certainly didn’t.

The cider bounced inside the barrels. I could hear the wishy-washy noises flow from one end to another as the cart tripped and kicked its way over the bumpy dirt roads. I wasn’t swayed much by the movement of the liquid, but it did play a large role in my continuously wincing facial expressions. Each time it moved from right to left, or vice versa, the harness would rap against my wings. Each time a new, painful squint would work its way across my face.

It wasn’t all bad though. Still carrying the map Twilight had given, and remembering the path I took to get to the farm, I was sure of my abilities to make it to Sugercube Corner. Evening was befalling the quaint town, and I quickened my pace to make sure I wasn’t late. What’s a party without some quality ‘refreshments’?

On my trip in, I passed many familiar buildings; all included many times within the show. I had already had my time to gawk and awe at the architecture and coloring, and was strictly here for business this time. Well, a kind of business. Wandering the streets proved to be far more effective than looking at the map as I quickly determined my exact location. A few turns around the corner and I was looking right at the famous pastry shop.

“OOOAAAHHH, you’re here!” screamed a high pitched and over the top voice.

Pinkie Pie time.

“Oh thank god you’re here I thought that maybe you were attacked by a manticore on your way and had to use the cider barrels to defend yourself and then you fought valiantly but then before you struck the final blow the manticore tricked you with one of its evil trickerish ways and then took the cider from you and left with it laughing while you were, OH MY CELESTIA I DON’T KNOW YOU!”

Dazed, I blinked at the rambunctious pink pony multiple times. What in the world did she just say? What in the world did I just hear?

“Uh, um my name’s Drumroll, I –” I began, stopping to gather my thoughts.

The brief moment gave Pinkie the opportunity to jump back in “A new pony in Ponyville? Why doesn’t anypony TELL me this kind of stuff? Well except for that one time when they did tell me. Except that time I already knew, so it was like they told me something I already heard so it wasn’t really new so I don’t think that counts. But I don’t know about you, oh where do you come from? What’s your name? Oh wait you just told me your name! Silly me! Oh I have to throw you a party, OH WAIT, I’m already throwing a party! Can you stay?”

Her words molded together into one cohesive but discombobulated thought. I rubbed my temples, trying to reduce my raging headache. Maybe if I could just keep talking it would stop her?

“Well, yes. I’m here to deliver the cider for the party and I figured I might be able to stay for a bit. I do have to get back to the farm, but that doesn’t mean I can’t party it up for the night, right?”

Oh god, I just asked Pinkie a rhetorical question. Please, oh please don’t let her go off.


Thank god. There was only so much Pinkie Pie a guy could handle.

“So, uh, where do you want me to put the cider down?”

“Follow me!” the pink pony screamed as she cart-wheeled towards the door.

Having stopped, it took me a moment to get the heavy cart rolling again. As the front wheels budged, I could pick up the pace and bring it all the way to the door of the bakery. I peered inside, looking for Pinkie so she could show me where to put the barrels, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Pinkie Pie?” I called out.

“Right here.” She said, popping out from one of the barrels of cider. With a light hiccup, she resumed “How’d you know my name was Pinkie Pie anyways?”

I had a perfectly logical answer that was true enough to be held, but the party pony wouldn’t even let me talk. I opened my mouth, but the words came from hers instead.

“Oh that’s right! You’re one of them.” she simply stated, as if it was common knowledge.

“Them?” I asked, perplexed, “Who are they?”

She stuck her tongue out at me in jest. Tongue still out of her mouth she said, “Lou low sliggy.”

After that she merely jumped from the cart and went down the stairs into the basement. I never knew the Cake’s had a basement? I unhitched myself from the cart of barrels and moved it away from the entrance. I let the back of the cart down and rolled two barrels off of it. There wasn’t really a point to questioning the things Pinkie said, so I figured I may as well get to work.

Barrel after barrel I went down the stairs into the mysterious new basement. When I had finished bringing all of the barrels into the depths of the pastry shop, I stopped to catch my breath. The room was nothing like a normal basement. It was huge and widespread, tables for eating off to one side with an entire stage set up in the back. The tables were covered in pink and yellow table cloths and were each surrounded by an army of chairs. The entire area had a nice wooden floor. It was so clean, almost as if they had just polished it today.

However nice the eating area was, the stage still impressed me more. Gigantic speakers on either side, and spotlights up above. A tech board stashed quietly to the side for the techie of the show. There was a rack of guitars set up next to it for whoever the player was to choose from. To the left was a singular large cello, oddly constructed with a chord running from its side. On the right was a synthesizer, shining in the gleam of the room’s light. In the back middle stood a shining red drum set with blue drum covers. It was a musician’s dream to play for a huge crowd on a stage like this. It was my dream to play for a crowd on a set like that.

“Yeah, I like the stage too. The band is sooo good and we are gonna party SO HARD tonight.” The host remarked, jumping from behind the drum set.

“Where did you come from?” I questioned, just as startled as every other time.

“Well, when a stallion and mare love each other very much…” she began.

“Ah, ah, no.” I stopped her “I meant how did you,” I paused to think about what I was really going to ask her, “You know what, never mind. So where is everypony?”

“Silly, the party doesn’t start for another hour. I’m so excited about it! There’s gonna be games and music and cake! So much cake! Ooh and then the conga lines and fun dances and everypony will be ready to have fun and PARTAY!”

“Haha, yeah it should be a real chill time.”

“Chill? No, we’re not gonna be cold. In fact, this parties gonna be so hot it’ll blow the tops off your thermostats!”

The earth pony was so happy about all of her upcoming plans that she was giddily bouncing around her nicely decorated room. She was like so kind of pink blur. The room was filled with so much pink and she moved so fast, I almost couldn’t tell which was which. It was like the party and her were, well, the same thing. Just the idea of a party would make Pinkie Pie beam, but knowing that there was a party happening must’ve just unscrewed those last few bolts on her sanity cap.

Looking at so much pink I wasn’t exactly sure what I was feeling. It was so bright it nearly disoriented me. The tints and shades all seemed to be one in the same. There was no light pink or dark pink, just pink. Pink everywhere. It engulfed the entire room and took every emotion down with it. It was like being stuck in a black hole, but instead of black, it was pink. It made me feel excited and surprised. I was paralyzed by grace and fear. Pink, overwhelming pink.

“Whatcha looking at Mr. Roll?” she giggled happily then gasped, “You don’t have a cutie mark!”

The sheer volume of her voice snapped me out of my pink entombment. Realizing what she said, I once again turned to view my blank flank. Still no cutie mark, no surprise there.

“No, I really haven’t found my special talent yet.”

Just as odd as ever she laughed at me and hopped away saying, “Well duh. That’s not till the next chapter.”

“Wait what?” I asked her, unaware of what in the world she was talking about.

“Oops, spoilers!” she caught herself.

What in Celestia’s name was she on about? Did she really say chapter? Or was it rather some weird wall-breaking scheme of hers? I figured if I was to pry deeper, I might find something that I didn’t necessarily want to hear.

Trying to get my mind off of the subject, I decided to pick Pinkie’s brain. Perhaps she could tell me where Rainbow Dash was, or better yet, if she was going to the party.

“So Pinkie, what’s this party for anyways?”

“For CIDER SEASON!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

I raised an eyebrow at this remark, “But isn’t cider season in three weeks?”

“Not for these ponies! I always throw a big Lets-Have-Cider-Before-We-Are-Supposed-To-Have-Cider Bash because it means we always get lots of cider.” She smiled.

“But, what about Rainbow Dash, she never got any cider before last year. Does she come to this party?”

“Dash usually has weather patrol during the time of my late parties. Something even THEY couldn’t tell you.”

“But who are they? And why would they tell me anything?”

“But Dash said that she’d be here near the end if she could switch with another pegasus.”

“Wait, that didn’t –” she cut me off

“Doubt that’s going to happen though. But who knows? We’re all waiting for you two to meet again.” Pinkie winked.

I blushed a bit, still embarrassed by the incident. “Oh, you, eh, heard about that?”

Pinkie’s eyes opened wide in a quizzical stare at me. Her head slowly tilted and one eyebrow slowly raised.

“About what?” she asked with a genuine curiosity.

“About my waking up in…wait, you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Nopey-Lopey Drummy-Rolly.”

“Then why’d you say ‘we’re all waiting for you two to meet again’?”

Her eyes darted around viciously, looking for a way out. The sound of hoof steps could be heard coming down the stairs and Pinkie seized the opportunity. She bolted from her position in front of me and ran up the stairs. Why in the world did Pinkie Pie have to be so confusing?

As they descended down the stairs I could finally put faces to the sounds. And with my luck, names to those faces. Behind a buoyant Pinkie came Equestria’s greatest DJ, Vinyl Scratch. Behind her was the beautifully graceful cellist, Octavia. And behind her was a familiar, yet unspoken pony of supposed musical greatness, Blues. The group chatted away as they drew closer to me. all of my favorite musician’s in one place.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” I cheered under my breath.

“This the cider pony you were just talkin’ about Pinks?” Vinyl asked pointing to me.

“Mhhm.” She nodded heartily.

“Sweet.” Vinyl gave me a friendly jab to the shoulder.

“Thank you for supplying the festivities my good stallion.” Octavia smiled as she shook my hoof lightly.

“Ah Tav lighten up.” laughed Blues, his voice deeper than I imagined. “We’re at a real party here, not some fancy-shmancy shindig up in Canterlot.”

“Well I imagined that we should use the same courtesies wherever we may go.” She huffed.

“No need to keep it formal, Ms. Octavia. We’re all friends here.” I grinned.

She smiled back, everyone in the group feeling right at home, but then her face twisted into a more perplexed look, “How did you know my name?”

“Oh, well you are quite famous and I’ve just heard so much about you guys that well, you have a name to remember.” I shrugged, telling a half truth.

She blushed, “Oh. Why thank you, um, what was your name?”

“I’m sorry.” I said, smacking my forehead in my stupidity, “I forgot to introduce myself…again. You can call me Drumroll.”

“Nice to meet you Drumroll.” Blues said, patting me on the back.

Vinyl tugged on her friends manes to get their attention, “Sorry to interrupt but we do have some practicing to do. It was nice meeting you Drumroll, but we’ve got a show to get ready for.”

“I understand.” I replied, sad that I had less time to talk, but anxious for the concert to start.

I wandered off, headed ultimately for the stairs. All of the cider had been set up and Pinkie obviously already had enough time to finish off the rest of the preparations. Sweets full of sugar lined the various tables, brightening the already vibrant room even more. I wondered where Pinkie had gone, having not seen her since I met with the band. I chocked it up to Pinkie being Pinkie. Such an odd girl, covered in such an odd color.
The band practiced its music on stage. It didn’t quite fit the room. Each note was different, unlike the encompassing trance of pink. The room that made everything the same yet different was being obstructed by the musical anomaly. But that wasn’t it. The music sounded wrong. It was missing something, something important. It was too off centered, unbalanced. I felt as though the music could use a little bit of the pink to fit it together.
As the music blazed through my eardrums and the room through my eyes, I could hear the same arguing around my skull. They said things that I wasn’t sure were completely true.
To the left, “What will you do about the unbalance in the music?”
To the right, “Don’t you find something fascinating about the uniformity of the room?”

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