> Equish Steel, or how Rarity Embraced the Metal > by Crystal Static > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > I'm not sorry > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Equish Steel, or how Rarity Embraced the Metal It's almost like I'm not sorry. It was a fairly typical afternoon in Ponyville. The sun was shining, birds were singing, Derpy Hooves slammed into a mailbox, and there there was only a single cloud in the sky. The sounds of the post-work bustle filled the streets as the townsponies rushed to complete whatever tasks they had to accomplish before heading home after a long day of work. A few foals were speeding by on a scooter, and a crowd was starting to form in front of the Carousel Boutique. "I wonder what all that racket is?" asked a cream colored earth pony mare. "I don't know Bonnie, but whatever it is, it ROCKS!" replied the toothpaste colored unicorn. For you see, there was a strange sound emanating from the fortress of fashion of Ponyville. It was a strange sound, one that a pony like you wouldn't expect to hear from such a venue, as loud and cacophonous as it was, it was surprisingly melodic, if a little bit rough. It was the kind of sound one would expect to find from some colt and his friends in a garage somewhere. It was the sound of metal. Before long, it was seen that a two certain close acquaintances of the proprietor of the local clothing creator arrived on the scene, thoroughly confused by the facemelting sound of an overdriven six-string screaming at your face turned up to eleven. After several minutes of pounding on the door, the noise stopped and a brilliant white unicorn with a slightly unkempt yet luscious royal violet mane answered the knock. Seeing that her friends were at her abode, she bid them enter, and hurried them into her lounge. Surprisingly, it only took thirty seconds before a certain pegasus with a rainbow mane to shed all tact and ask what the hay was that noise earlier? The fashionista's other friend immediately called out the pegasus on her brusqueness before being stopped by said fashionista pony. Said seamstress was shocked at how her friends didn't know she was a metalhead. "Wait, let me get this straight: You, Rarity, the prissiest prissy pony in all of Ponyville, likes metal music?" asked Rainbow Dash, trying to get over her shock. "Did you hit your head or somethi- OW! Applejack, what was that for?!" Applejack chuckled. "That there was fer you being ruder than a rattlesnake in a pigpen. If Rarity likes metal, who are ya to judge?" "Ahem. To answer dear Rainbow Dash's question, I simply adore metal. Simply put, I find metal to be absolutely marvelous after a long day of work." Rarity takes a sip from her teacup. "Seriously?" Rainbow's wings twitched. "I mean come on. How did you even get into metal in the first place?" Applejack nodded. "Ah admit Ah'm a mite curious mahself." "Well you see girls, it's actually quite simple really…" Rarity started to explain. When I was a filly, after I had gotten my cutie mark, I was just starting to learn how to make fabulous clothing for ponies. I used to be so stressed out during those days, worried that I didn't do the right kind of stitch and the dress would fall apart, afraid that I would get laughed out of the fashion business before I even got a chance, scared that I wouldn't achieve my dreams. I had a lot of issues as a filly. Anyways, I was taking a stroll around the neighborhood to clear my head, when I heard what I thought was an awful racket. Being the concerned pony I was, I started trying to find the source of said commotion. After a short time trying to locate the source, I found some colts in what I can only describe as a shack filled with musical equipment. After they refused to turn down their noise, I asked them why they couldn't play something nicer, and I won't ever forget what the lead colt told me. He told me Metal isn't just noise, it's a way of life. Other kinds of music have harsh rules and strict techniques, which demand obedience or you will never get anywhere. Metal is different, it's free. It's life itself, you don't have to write strict notations or follow the herd with metal, you just follow what feels right. It's freedom of expression, freedom of self, and freedom from the constraints of society. So I will not stop my metal, I will play it loud and proud and I will not change myself for anypony else. After hearing the passion that they had for their music, I was intrigued, so I decided to sit and listen to them play for a while. At first all I heard was noise, but after a time, I started noticing things. The technical skill the lead guitarist had as he cleaved his way across a solo. The staccato drumbeats setting the pace for everypony else in the band. The soaring vocals reminiscent of operatic showings. The steady thrumming of the bassline as it hammered it's way through my soul. In that moment, as I realized that metal was an art form in itself. The complex techniques of skilled musicians turned away from calculated notes and rigid guidelines, instead for raw emotion and freedom from the stresses of life. The very next day, I made my way over to the music store in town. It took me a while before I found the meager selection of metal records in the back corner of the store with the flickering light, but I finally discovered what I was looking for. I was shocked at the artworks on some of the disc jackets, but I refused to let it deter me. Drawn to the grotesque imagery of a distorted pony in a straightjacket chained up in a padded room on an albumn titled Piece of Mind, I removed the record from the rack and asked the store pony if I could listen to it. He gave me a questioning glance at the disc sleeve before leading me to the phonograph in one of the side rooms of the shop. He told me I could listen for five minutes before leaving me to see what I had discovered. I started the first song, and I was drawn in by the galloping drumbeats and the soaring vocals of the lead singer. Before I knew it, I was bobbing my head to the tune of a pegasi warband raiding a griffin aerie. I could have sat there all day listening to the record, but the store pony came back and told me that my time was up. I asked him if he liked Iron Filly, but he just asked me if I wanted to buy the record I found. A touch put off by how rude he was, I trotted up to the checkout counter and purchased my record. Slipping it into my saddlebags, I returned home and took my father's phonograph into my room so I could listen to my recent purchase. About half an hour later, my father barged into my room to let me know that dinner was ready. He was confused to what I was listening to, but I told him I was just trying out some new music. While he didn't really care for what I was listening to, he said that as long as it made me happy, I could listen to whatever I wanted. A few years later I was getting to the age where I could go see concerts. My room was wallpapered with metal music artworks and I had my own phonograph, as well as a dresser filled with metal records and a closet filled with the kind of clothing you would expect a metal fan to wear, I still don't understand how I could have found that fashionable. But back to the matter at hoof, my first concert was an Iron Filly show as part of their Somewhere on Tour tour, and I absolutely adored my experience. After that day, I have been to more than thirty different concerts by many different artists, including that one colt from the garage that one day and his band, Tirek Preacher. When I saw that it was the same colt from that day, I actually upgraded my ticket so I could go backstage. When I met Buck Hayford that day, I told him how I met him as a filly and how he introduced me to metal, and I was shocked that he remembered that day as well as I did. We talked for hours, and before I knew it, I had to head back home, but not before he gave me his mailing address and asked me to keep in touch. I still write him occasionally, and his lead guitarist at the time taught me how to play like a real metal pony. "...and that's how I embraced the metal." finishing her tale, Rarity poured another cup of tea. "Well shoot, that Buck Hayford pony sounds like a nice fella." Applejack countried. "He is indeed." Affirmed Rarity. "..." "What is it darling?" Rarity turned to Rainbow Dash. "You know Tirek Preacher… You actually are friends with Tirek Preacher…" Rainbow inhaled sharply. "That is SO AWESOME! You've gotta introduce me sometime!" Rarity giggled. "Maybe next time Buck is in Canterlot you can come with me when we meet dear. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll go fetch us more tea."