A Blank Canvas

by Bardsworth Brony

Chapter One: In Which Our Protagonist Arrives In Ponyville

The shack was in the middle of nowhere, hidden in the woods with no roads or trails leading to or from it. "Ramshackle" was too good a word for it. Only one of the windows remained intact, though it had a spider's-web-shaped network of cracks in it. The roof had more holes than a colander and the walls leaned as if in a perpetual wind. Weeds had run wild around the edges, doing their best to hide the eyesore.

"Home sweet home," Sketch muttered to himself. It had been completely by chance that he had run across the shack. After spending the night in the woods he had been trying to find his way back out when he caught sight of the dilapidated structure out of the corner of his eye. Having little money to his name, this would be the best he could do in terms of lodging for the time being.

Since there was no door to open, Sketch strolled past the bare doorframe, dragging his wagon behind him by the rope tied to his saddlebag. He glanced around at the dirty interior and decided to buy a broom once he got into town. No sense in sleeping on a filthy floor. Plus, the dirt and dust would be bad for his paintings.

After stashing his wagon in the corner that had the least holes above it, he pulled out his map and smoothed it out over the dirt-encrusted floor with both hooves. The town of Ponyville wasn't too far away, maybe a half-hour's trot. Once he was there, his stomach reminded him with a gurgle and a sharp pain, he could use the last of his money to get a bit of food. Unless the purchase of the broom left him broke. He did, after all, have his priorities.

***

The town of Ponyville had never been mentioned by anypony whom Sketch knew. Its existence on the map was a surprise to him. It was his intuition, that gut-instinct that he had come to trust over the years, which urged him to go southward to the unknown place. Now that he was in the midst of the bright and cheerful town, he couldn't help but feel a complete sense of culture shock. Everypony was smiling. Everypony. He heard bouts of laughter here and there, and off in the distance young ponies were screaming playfully. It was a far cry from the uptight citizens of his home city of Whinnypeg.

However, he noticed that he was getting the same types of glances that he received back home. It was to be expected, of course; even though the long, gray overcoat covered much of his body, Sketch's hair was uncommonly purple for a male pony; a dark, glossy purple. The young colts used to tease him in school, calling him "mare hair" among other things. The memories caused Sketch to heave a big sigh, but he pushed them back down and lifted his head, tossing back his shaggy brown mane. It was time for a new start.

The general store was easy to locate and the broom didn't cost too much, so after making the purchase Sketch cantered over to the bakery he had passed earlier to see what he could get with his leftover money. The aromas were overwhelming – breads, cakes, pies, and every pastry under Equestria's sun. Sketch's stomach began doing somersaults and he nearly doubled over. He managed to make it to the counter just as a stallion with yellow hair, a paper hat, and an apron smudged with icing appeared.

"Well, good day there!" the proprietor said with a friendly smile. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner. What can I do for you?"

"Hi. I was wondering - do you happen to have savory pies as well sweet ones?" Sketch asked with a hopeful raise of his brow.

"You bet! We got some nice vegetable pot pies, stuffed with peas, carrots, and potatoes. The best in Ponyville."

Sketch's head spun as he imagined how delicious one of those would taste. "How much would that cost me?"

When the pony told him, Sketch's face fell. It was exactly two bits more than what he had. "Oh. Is, uh, a loaf of plain bread a little cheaper?"

The baker fixed Sketch with a concerned look and said, "If you're fixed for money, I'll take an IOU. Don’t want to see a customer go hungry."

"Oh no, that's all right," Sketch replied quickly, shaking his head. "I can't."

"Sure you can," the pony smiled. "You seem trustworthy enough."

"Thanks, but I really mean that I can't. I don’t have any money beyond what little I have right now, and I'm new in town so I don't have a job. I'll be fine with the bread, really."

"Hmm," the pony thought, rubbing his jutting chin with a hoof. "I could use someone to make a delivery for me today. My wife's busy in the kitchen all afternoon and Pinkie Pie is off today. If you'd be willing to run a couple of boxes of cupcakes over to the library, that veggie pie is yours, even-Steven."

"Oh, sure! I'd be happy to," Sketch said with a smile of relief. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, er… what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't, but it's Sketch."

"Nice to meet you, Sketch. I’m Mr. Cake by the way. Let me grab one of those pies for you, and while you're eating I'll get the cupcakes packaged up to go." With that the baker trotted back to the kitchen.

The whole exchange was a tad surreal for Sketch. Not only was he not used to being treated with courtesy and downright friendliness, no one in Whinnypeg would ever have allowed a trade like this. It would have been money or a bucking out the door.

When Mr. Cake returned with a steaming veggie pie and Sketch caught a whiff of it, his mouth began to water and all thoughts of his hometown disappeared.

***

The library was the most unique building Sketch had ever seen, in-so-much that it was a building. It was actually a hollowed out tree with windows, doors, and ledges. He stood out front, tracing over the details with his eyes, taking in every angle. He rarely painted buildings, but he was mulling it over as a possible subject.

The front door opened, startling Sketch from his thoughts. His amazement grew tenfold when he saw the diminutive figure in the doorway. The creature was purple-scaled with green spikes running from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. It looked at Sketch and asked, "Oh, uh, can I help you?"

"Rrr oo uh agon?"

"Huh?"

Embarrassed, Sketch realized he still had the string holding the packages together in his mouth. He set the boxes down and repeated, "Are you a dragon?"

The creature raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself. "No, I'm a chicken."

Sketch looked away embarrassedly. "Sorry. I've just never seen a dragon before."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just messin' with ya'," the dragon said with a toothy grin.

"Oh. I, uh, have a package here for Twilight Sparkle from Sugarcube Corner."

"She's inside. I can take that for you." The dragon picked up the boxes and headed back for the doorway.

"Wait!" Sketch called, stopping the dragon in his tracks. "Do you, um, mind if I peek inside? I've never seen a building like this before."

"Sure, come on in." Sketch followed the purple dragon inside and looked around wide-eyed. Adorning nearly every inch of the walls were books of every size and color sitting on recessed shelves carved right into the body of the tree. The shelves went up about three or four ponies high. As he looked up at the higher shelves his eyes caught sight of a loft area with a bed. Someone actually lived there?

"Hey Twilight, the cupcakes are here!" the dragon said.

"Oh good! Who's this, Spike?" Sketch looked to where the voice was coming from and saw a unicorn sitting at a desk with an open book in front of her. Her hair was purple, though a lighter shade than his. Her mane was an interesting combination of colors; dark blue with two stripes of color, one pink and one purple.

"Oops, I didn't ask his name," Spike said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment and looking at Sketch for help.

"I'm Sketch. Sorry for intruding, but I really wanted to see the inside of this building. It's amazing!"

"I don't mind," the unicorn said with a smile. "I thought the same thing when I first saw it. I'm Twilight Sparkle. And this is my trusty assistant, Spike."

"Do you actually live here?"

"Uh-huh. I'm a student of Princess Celestia's, so a library was the best place for me to live and do research."

"Wow," breathed Sketch. He had seen Princess Celestia once as a colt, but had never had the opportunity to meet her. And there were plenty of ponies in Whinnypeg who claimed to have met the princess at some formal function or another. But until now he had never known anyone who was directly connected with the ruler of Equestria.

"Are you new around here?" Twilight asked, getting down from her chair and approaching Sketch. "I've never seen you before."

"Yeah, I just arrived today. I, uh, made a deal with Mr. Cake to deliver those cupcakes to you in exchange for some food since his usual helper was off."

"Pinkie Pie wasn't there?" Twilight asked and then smirked. "You're lucky, then."

"Why's that?"

"If she had seen you she'd be planning a big surprise party for you. For being new in town."

"Oh. Does she do that a lot? Throw parties I mean?"

Twilight laughed. "More than you can imagine." She paused, considering something, and then said, "Actually, I'm throwing a little get-together with some friends tonight, including Pinkie Pie. That's what the cupcakes are for. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh no, I don't want to impose."

"It's no imposition. There's enough food for everypony and it would be a chance for you to get to meet some others in town."

Sketch bit his lower lip. He didn't want to come off as standoffish, but the get-togethers and parties where he came from were always stuffy affairs, and he had hated going to them. While he was happy to have been asked, he just couldn't bring himself to accept.

"I appreciate the offer, I really do," he responded. "But I have some work to do tonight. I'm an artist, you see, and I haven't had a chance to work on anything lately, and-"

"An artist? Interesting!" Twilight replied. "I don’t think we have too many artists here in Ponyville."

Sketch gave a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess it's a pretty strange profession, if you can call it that."

"Not at all," Twilight shook her head. "It's unique. I like unique."

That was definitely something Sketch had never heard growing up. Uniqueness was a form of perversity in Whinnypeg. If you didn't look and act like everyone else, you were less than dirt. He smiled and said, "You know, I think I'm really going to like it here."

Twilight beamed and said, "I know you will. Are you sure you can't come tonight?"

Again, Sketch politely declined. He really did want to use the inspiration of a new setting and a new life to start in on some paintings. His travels hadn't given him any time to do work on anything.

"Okay, but if you change your mind come on over. And if you don't come, just be warned – Pinkie Pie will find out about you eventually. Then you won't have any choice but to party." Sketch thought the mare was joking, but her eyes betrayed her seriousness.

"I'll, uh, be prepared," he responded. "It was nice meeting both of you."

"You too. See you around!"

"Bye, Sketch!" Spike called from another room.

Sketch left the library and looked up at the sky. There were only a few hours left before the sun would start to set, so if he wanted light to paint by he needed to get back to his shack as quickly as possible. He double-checked that his broom was secured on one side of his saddle-bag and the loaf of bread he had purchased at the bakery was secured on the other side, and then made his way out of Ponyville.

***

The canvas remained blank all evening, and then it became too dark to see anything clearly. Sketch sat back on his haunches, defeated and depressed. He was sure that after that day he would have a ton of inspiration for a new painting. But as he had stared at the unpainted canvas, brush between his teeth and paint drying on his palette, nothing came to him. He thought of the library, he thought of the town, he thought of all the ponies he had seen and the ones he had met, but still nothing.

To make matters worse, rats had torn into his bread while he was busy staring at the canvas, and so he was left with nothing to eat. "I should have gone to the party," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. At least there would have been food there.

With a great sigh he packed up his supplies and stored them in his wagon, covering it all with a tarp to keep it safe. Pulling his coat around him as well as a threadbare blanket to ward off the night chill, he lay down on the newly swept floor and closed his eyes. All around him were the sounds of the forest – crickets chirping, the leaves rustling against one another, and the far off hoots of an owl. He tried to be happy in that moment, surrounded by nature, but was interrupted by a sharp hunger pang. It was going to be a rough night.

Comments

[Mendoza]

This is a good start. You've done a decent job setting the scene and giving some of Sketch's background. Kudos

[Bardsworth Brony]

811286 Thanks! Hope you keep reading as more of his background is revealed.

[Sandvich]

ct.fra.bz/ol/fz/sw/i49/5/2/9/fbz_b4c815f1d39521bcd628d93aa0b939d4.jpg

[Georg]

Actually very nice, I like the OC, you've got a good plot set down, and you have been very good about not being predictable, but staying within the character concept. In painting terms you have a good canvas, nice subject, strong lines and good lighting. Still a bit rough in places, but well worth a thumbs up.