The ship nuzzled up to the Manehattan docks as if felt particularly fond of them. A cheer went up from its decks, and the cheer was echoed on the shore.
Appearances could be deceiving. In its day, the ‘Jolly Galloper’ had been most unwelcome at the Manehattan seaport, for its habit of disgorging pirates to rob the place. But the ‘Galloper’ had belonged to Kabochaebi… and for years now, its visits to ports all over Equestria had been peaceful and benevolent. Continue reading →
They entered Chowa in a sort of triumphial procession: not through anything they’d done, at least that day, but simply because ponies lined the streets from the outskirts of the city all the way to the amphitheater where they’d set up and play. The ponies stood in Neighponnese politeness, not blocking the way, not even cheering—but staring, rapt, as if they were already planning to tell their grandfoals ‘that was the day I watched Octavia and DJ Pon-3 perform for all of Neighpon’.
Big Macintosh’s ears were laid back as he pulled the cart, but apart from that he was not perturbed. He’d had mares stare at him that way before. Anyhoof, it was the cargo of the cart he pulled which bore the brunt of the attention. Continue reading →
Vinyl Scratch wriggled, restless. She glared into the dark. You never knew when it would sneak up on you: after all those gigs, she’d have thought herself immune to pre-show jitters, but there she was: wakeful before dawn, and having to make that awful decision: get up far too early, or try and force a little more sleep?
Of course, it wasn’t just the gig. It was still performance in a sense, but it wasn’t only DJing on the agenda. Scratch had a feeling of trepidation that beatmongering alone couldn’t produce, and a kind of excitement that used to belong to the gigs themselves.
It was a funny thing. As you got good, really good, in some ways your art got less scary. You could try and bring back the danger and novelty of your first gigs through various means, allowing for dodgy equipment or trying bold transitions and audience-challenging stunts… but the audience learned too. It learned with you, and it learned about you, and even though she hadn’t played Neighpon for ages, word spread fast. She wasn’t going to need to explain much. The beats of Fillydelpia’s wildest clubs spoke loudly to Neighpon villages and required little translation.
It was what Vinyl planned for after the gig that had her excited and nervous. Continue reading →
Kirin did not freak out, as a rule. Kirin… considered. Kirin took a long view, and did not jump to conclusions if they could help it.
Kirin, confronting the mystery of the empty boat and the mysterious tracks in the sand, undertook to consider this as well… and did so, patiently.
And sometimes, unbeknownst to ponies, Kirin politely argued, abandoning their elaborate courtly diction, over the management of their charges and the extent of their responsibilities to their little ponies of all sorts. Continue reading →