A Plethora of Mannerism
Canterlot sprawls out in front of you, vast, ornate, and glorious. Upper-class ponies strut upon neat cobblestone streets, noses held high. Fancy galleries and boutiques line the main thoroughfare, providing their customers satisfying eye candy in the form of colourful window displays. Past them you see the spires of Canterlot Palace, a lot more imposing here than back in Ponyville.
Canterlot.
In other words, your personal nightmare.
Vinyl has to nudge your shoulder and clamp your gaping jaw shut for you. “Dude, I thought I woke you up already! Snap out of it!”
You shake your head. “I’m okay.”
Royal Riff looks pleased with your incredulous reaction. He’s a grey stallion with a white mane and similar build to Eiffel and Noteworthy. His cutie mark is a pair of white treble clefs. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s . . . big.”
“That’s understandable, seeing as you’re used to living in Ponyville. It’s an extreme change of scenery. But trust me, you’ll get used to it fast.”
“Hey! Riffs! Can we get a move on?” Vinyl pipes in. She’s practically bouncing from all the pent-up energy she’s been saving on the train ride. “I want to go say hey to Octavia before I have to show at the Wonderbolts’ airshow.”
You tear yourself out of your stupor. “Wait, the Wonderbolts?”
“Yup. I’m designated DJ for their shows. And I’ll have you know . . .” Vinyl glares at you playfully. “I missed one while I was on that wild goose chase for you in Ponyville.”
“Um . . . sorry?”
“No problem. I’ve been to about a million of them. They get repetitive after a while.”
Royal Riff coughs. “Rub it in, why don’t you?’ He turns to you. “Shall I show you where you’ll be staying, sir?”
“Sir?” you mutter. You’re not sure if you like this newfound respect. Vinyl nudges you, smirking.
“Can I take that as a yes?” asks Royal Riff.
“Yeah.”
“Excellent! You will be staying in . . . that building.” Royal Riff points over the skyline at a prominent structure jutting out over the lower shops. A massive gold building full of graceful arches and massive pillars.
“Emerald Palace, huh?” Vinyl whistles appreciatively. “And here I was thinking that they’d ease you into this stuff.”
The Palace was easily a hundred stories, all gold plate and glass. A good deal fancier than anything else you’ve ever seen. “Uh, just out of curiosity,” you ask. “How much is it per night?”
Royal Riff laughs nervously. “Really now! Did you really think that we wouldn’t provide sleeping arrangements? Don’t worry; all the costs are completely covered! Now, shall we?”
The violinist leads you and Vinyl towards the Emerald Palace, merging into the hoof traffic of uppity Canterlotians. Normally, you would have been ploughed over by the tsunami of ponies marching at you in a massive wave, but Vinyl and Royal Riff have a sort of aura that parts the crowd before you. Some of the ponies you pass even bow their heads respectfully at Royal Riff.
Vinyl, on the other hoof, looks uncomfortable. She’s a party pony through and through, and Canterlot isn’t exactly her cup of tea. Too much frill and politeness, and not enough strobe lights and noise. She cringes every time somepony bows to Royal Riff, or utters some uppity phrase, like “I say!”
“I swear, every time I hear somepony say ‘swimmingly’ or ‘dearie,’ I will personally punch Prince Blueblood in the face,” Vinyl moans.
“Would you rather they said ‘radical’ or ‘homie’?” Royal Riff replies, chortling at the DJ’s discomfort.
“You’re a certified comedian, Riffs. And I don’t talk like that.”
You think the musicians’ banter is funny, so you laugh along, earning you strange looks from passersby. Like, “Who is this uncouth young stallion who dares laugh with DJ-Pon3 and Royal Riff? The nerve of him!”
Royal Riff takes a left off the main boulevard, onto a side street. It’s less crowded, and you and Vinyl are both let out sighs of relief. “Thank Celestia!” Vinyl exclaims. “I almost became a full-scale murderer back there!”
“Relax, Vinyl. You’ve been to Canterlot before,” Royal Riff says without turning around.
“Not the main street! I take the subtle entrances! The ones that lead me to the clubs.”
“So you’re telling me that you’ve never run into a Canterlotian or two at all those Wonderbolts airshows you’ve attended?”
“That’s different. You don’t get up close and personal when you’re in the sound booth. These ponies, let me tell you . . .”
“Well, I think the Canterlot folk are simply smashing ponies,” you gush, recovering your silver tongue. “I would adore to become more well-acquainted with them.”
It’s Vinyl’s turn to giggle at Royal Riff. “Sounds about like you, Riffs.”
“Very funny. Fortunately for you, most of the members of the orchestra aren’t the kind of ponies you’ve encountered thus far. Many of them have been hoofpicked from other cities, like Manehattan or Las Pegasus. They haven’t yet adopted our speech patterns. So I expect you’ll get along swimmingly.” Royal Riff throws the last word in sarcastically, turning to look at Vinyl as he says it. Vinyl’s jaw twitches.
“I see. Any from Ponyville before?”
Royal Riff considered. “Let’s see . . . just one.”
“Who is it? Are they still in the orchestra?”
“Of course he is! Because that ‘one’ is me.”
You stop walking, causing Vinyl to bump into you. “You’re from Ponyville?”
“Yes. Frederic Horseshoepin came recruiting, and I showed up for auditions.”
“And you made it?”
“Obviously.”
You fall silent. The auditions. Vinyl had said that they were a pushover, but nervous energy starts to seep back into your system. “So, um . . . how many ponies show up to these auditions?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
“A few dozen,” Royal Riff says offhandedly. “But they’re just a formality, really. When we have our eye on a certain somepony, nothing else really matters. You’re name has probably been added to our roster already.”
“That’s pretty confident of you, Riffs,” says Vinyl. “What if somepony shows up who shatters the competition?”
“You tell me, Vinyl. You’re the one who has actually heard our friend play. Is he actually as good as you made out in your letter?”
“Better. You have no idea. When this kid plays, time stops.”
“Funny, Vinyl,” you mutter.
“No exaggeration. Celestia would move the sun for music like that, and I don’t even like classical!”
You cough. “So, who’s this Octavia?”
Vinyl opens her mouth to respond, but Royal Riff cuts in. “She’s our first chair cellist. Definitely the best musician we have with us at the moment.”
“And she’s the friend who sent me to find you,” Vinyl adds.
“A cellist?” You smirk at Vinyl. “Doesn’t really seem like the pony you’d associate with, Vinyl.”
“I really love these DJ stereotypes. Can’t I hang out with whoever I want? So what if she’s a concert cellist?” Vinyl looks offended at your assertion.
“It’s fine,” you hurriedly correct yourself. “It’s just . . . I was just a little surprised, that’s all.”
The three of you walk in silence for a while. Royal Riff finally breaks the tension that’s building. “I think you’ll like Octavia. She’s really a nice pony, and you two have a lot in common.” When you don’t respond, he plows on. “She’ll be the one to ‘show you the ropes,’ so to speak. I’ll introduce you when we’re at rehearsal later today.”
“Rehearsal? Already?” you say.
“After the auditions, of course.”
“Isn’t that a little . . . sudden?”
Royal Riffs shifts uncomfortably. “Yes . . . but, well . . .” He clears his throat. “Frederic Horseshoepin’s . . . passing . . . came at a rather inconvenient time. Not to sound insensitive or anything! But we have an important performance upcoming, and we’ve been in a bit of a frenzy to come up with a replacement pianist. And now that we have you, we really need to pick up the pace in order to be adequately prepared.”
“I see.”
Vinyl suddenly chuckles darkly. “Going through initiation with Octavia! Good luck, my friend!”
You glance at her, alarmed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Pay her no mind,” Royal Riff says grimly. “She’s suggesting that Octavia might not warm up to you, especially during this time of loss. She was quite close to Frederic.”
Vinyl sobers up a little. “Really close,” she adds for emphasis. She kicks at a crack in the road as she passes.
“Oh . . .” You can imagine how she might resent you. Showing up out of the blue to replace somepony who shouldn’t have to be replaced.
Another awkward silence falls. You look down at your hooves. Nerves have never been your best friend, and now they’re practically making you vibrate. The talk of Octavia has made you even more anxious, and Celestia knows, you need more anxiety.
Royal Riff stops walking. “We’re here.”
You look up from your thoughts. The Emerald Palace looms over you, a thousand times bigger than it appeared from the main road. “Okay, then,” you say breathlessly.
The high life is waiting for you. All you have to do is embrace it.
Sorry about the longish wait!
I've been out of town for the 4th of July, and I didn't have WiFi to upload. So here's a slightly longer chapter!
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Nice!
879439
Thanks!
Still going strong, I see.
879872
Thanks for checking back with me!
I hope I can live up to expectations!
err, mind working slowly, heat killing me, failed to notice any "dearies" except one.
err...
"handpicked"?
Nope.
Hoofpicked, please.
Foreshadowing! Octy almost kills new pianist.
:D
am i able to give any real feedback?
No.
im out.
888280
Whoops. Humanized terms don't usually slip by me like that,
*Fixed
(Also, you've found the only "dearie." Didn't want to overdo it.)
903412
Maybe a little.
905438
If I've inspired creativity, that makes my day.
Go for it, mate.
I'm afraid for the OC's life. Octavia is gonna pound him so badly
Just started reading this story a while ago, and I have to say, I like it so far! I usually comment a little bit further into the story, but I noticed one thing - "You’re name has probably been added to our roster already" - I think there should be "Your". Sorry if I'm wrong, though. :)
And one thing crossed my mind - I think that when speaking upper class accent and style, the characters should significantly more often use "You are", rather than shortened "you're". It's more official, polite and formal. Maybe you do that in later chapters, I don't know, haven't read them yet. :) But it's not really neccesary, I'm just being a perfectionist here. :D
Either way, it's fun to read, it's nicely written, the story is interesting. I like your VS, I'm looking forward to read about your Octavia's personality.
... I'm 7 weeks late, I know, I know. :D
1193793
Fixed that little oopsie on my part.
I honestly can't remember if I started to use "you are" as opposed to "you're", so we'll see if I did or not.
And better late than never, I say!
I simply want to know: what is the level of Vinyl's and Octavia's relationship? I'm just wondering if there's going to be shipping.
888280 Why didn't you kill an apple again?