Crystal Symphony [CYOA]

“It’s alright,” you nudge Golden Shield teasingly with your shoulder, with a little bump, “But we are going to need the help of Equestians, Golden Shield. We don’t need to take Sombra head on alone; we don’t have to do it.”

The stallion does not cross his eyes with yours; instead, he simply glances away with a patient, sad sigh. He then closes his eyes and finally, with a surprisingly weak nod, responds, “I trust you to be your diplomat then, Aurora.”

You gleam at him, “We’ll see how it goes, and you’re the dreaded, famous and powerful Legate, not me.”

“I’m sure they’ve heard a thing or two about you, even the Princess herself,” he answers you back with a smile.

“That’s great and all,” Red Sulfur yawns, lazily and slowly cracking your conversation into two, “But nopony is going to let you into Fillydelphia or Baltimate, especially Canterlot City, if that’s your plan. I respect not taking ‘no’ for an answer, but you know…? Regardless, Aurora, which of the gemstones are we going to use to repair you with now?”

You and Golden Shield exchange uncertain glances, but you are adamant about keeping your body as pure as possible, gem-wise at least. You give Red Sulfur a certain, hopeful nod, “We’re going to find the remains of the destroyed golems and then use it to repair me, which should work – right?”

“Yeah,” he waves his hoof at you lazily, “You do that.”

“You’re not joining us?” Shield asks with a gullible surprise.

“There’s no alchemical laboratory in Manehattan, none of the ponies here care or know enough. I’m going to construct something makeshift,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Should take me some while, so do not hurry.”

You do not mind spending some alone-time with your friend, Golden Shield, yet that does not mean that you are not worried concerning Red Sulfur’s preposition, or leaving him alone in this dim and dark mine cavern. You ask, “Are you sure you’re going to be fine, Sulfur?”

He looks around and his lips twists into a smile when he spots some of the hard-working mares, he nods, “I should be fine in this company, Aurora. Oh,” he lays his eyes on you now, “Do you also want to remove that strange crystal you got from one of the amber oozes at the Warden Tree?” he points at the dim, circular and yellowish crystal gem.

>What do you do now?

>>28814348
I kind of want to see what that thing does. I honestly forgot about it when I saw hellish beasts and all that. I trust Sulfur enough to let him go on his own, but I sure as fuck don't trust Acid. Someone should be with him. Mudbrick could send some of his men, I believe, this way it would look more like a real military assignment, not just some pony demanding to craft shit.

>>28814488
Vince, wait for some other anons.

>>28814348
Aurora is honestly kinda nervous at the idea of him taking stuff off but I think we should take it out. Don't want different manners of crystals in us, makes it hard to keep track. As we walk, tell Shield we heard he fought Celestia herself. What was she like? Was she as large a pony as they say?

You are honestly kind of nervous, even still, about Red Sulfur touching you or taking stuff out of you. Excluding the fact that he’ll be feeling you, something you’ll force yourself to bear, with no insult towards Red Sulfur, he’s realistically not as competent as Ginger Spice. Even though he’s talented, he’s simply not as good as Ginger Spice.

You are also interested in the power of the crystals that the Warden Tree hides; it might be just the right ability to fight Sombra. “Red Sulfur,” you begin, “I trust you enough to go on yourself, especially with that cloak of yours, but… Acid Crust might be dangerous. Golden Shield, do you think we can ask Mudbrick to send some of his soldiers to assist Red? I believe, this way it would look more like a real military assignment, which it is really is at this point…”

“Listen,” he says with a monotone boredom, “I don’t ne-“

“That should be fine,” Golden Shield adds with an innocent smile, “We should do just that.”

And with that, the two of you leave brooding Red Sulfur with his own shadow for a little while. As you and Golden Shield pass through the narrow caverns of the Manehattan mines, each of the slaving workers responds with a pitiful bow and a trembling, gargling cough. Golden Shield keeps his eyes narrowed; despite acting all tough and easy-going, your stallion is obviously uncomfortable about the whole situation. As you finally leave the mines, he stops.

“You okay?” you ask him with a simple, mental wink. He answers back with an uncertain nod. “Hey,” you push the discussion of whatever troubles his mind, “I’ve heard you fought and wounded Celestia herself! Is it true, Shield?”

File: CS Quoits Clover.png (51KB, 720x539px) Image search: [Google]

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“More or less,” his answer is genuine and modest.

“What was she like? How did you even manage to hit an alicorn who raises the sun? The sun!”

“I’ve had help of my forces,” he raises his hoof to caress his mane, “And a magical javelin given to me by the king. Yes, Aurora, you can practically feel the blaze and heat of the sun when you are too close to her. They say it’s warming and soft to her subjects, but to her enemies it is a burning fire, one that is not afraid to burn you to embers.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” another yawn escapes from the side – Clover. “Hey you two,” she whispers, barely bothering to raise her voice to your level, “Is the assistant pony inside?”

>What do you do now?

>>28814801
I really do hope it will not burn us when we will meet her one day. Anyway, I think Shield is just as uncomfortable with the whole slavery thing as we are, but for the time being there is nothing we can do. I'd honestly like to say "release them", however a great portion of Crystal Ponies is brainwashed/gave up so they could live.

As for the assistance pony, just get inside and state our business if he's there. Like, really. It's just a small talk I suppose.

>>28814801
Still the same anon here. If I can advise you just a little bit, put the eyelashes only on upper side of the eye. This way it will not make all your pones look old.

>>28814801
If you mean Sulfur then yes he is inside.

>>28814801
You mean Red Sulfur? He is in the mines, yes. Why?

“Assistant, do you mean Red Sulfur?” you ask Clover with a mental raise of your eyebrow.

“Yeah, him,” she answers with a lazy push as her hoof accidently slips and her head lands one the only, lucky bush beneath her. With a wiggle of her neck she glances at you with a grin, “Is he in the mines?”

“He is, yes,” you answer her back with a note of curiosity, “Why do you need him for?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Quoits Clover whispers innocently, “I’m just bored, and Blackward is fixing himself again. That Sulfur looked like he could use some company, and I’m quite the company, right – Shield?”

“You are,” Golden Shield admits bluntly with a smile, “He might just be happy to see you.”

“Maybe,” she whispers and tries to stand up, “Maybe in a jiffy, Shield.”

“Sure,” he says as the two of you, again, exchange glances and pass the Royal Strategist on your way towards the forsaken wastelands of the metropolis. While she optimistically waves in your direction, you are unable to hear her quiet farewells – or so you think she says. You wince as you attempt to find small shards of the destroyed golems yet it might be quite the task, even for the two of you. Manehattan is a massive city, albeit desolated now.

“Hope she won’t burn us when she meets the two of us, Shield,” you resume the dialogue swiftly.

“I can’t say she won’t, she’s quite rigorous – the alicorn of the sun. And she might hold a grudge at me now.”

“As for the slaves,” you mutter, “The Crystal Ponies are now half the slaves they once were because they have somepony else doing this job for them. I despise it as much as you, Golden Shield; the only ones who enjoy putting the ponies through such treatment as the king and the Vizier. It’s not a situation we can fix from the mines.”

“I know,” he mutters, “I just don’t know how we are progressing now – I hope Mudbrick and Quoits Clover do.”

>What do you do now?

>>28814853
Noted m8.

>>28815026
>Clover
>knowing anything
Hooo boy, poor Sulfur. He won't get laid but talked to death. Anyway, look for the best golem parts to fix ourselves. And by best I mean "these which fit most".

>>28815026
Tell me about Clover. What's her history? Blackward too. He seem... different.

Your eyes look over the empty streets in search of something that glitters and shines, although, not in a stunning and beautiful kind of way. You search for the remains of once obedient, senseless and savage soldiers, soldiers that were defeated in their mindless craze. Supposedly it was the “Vanguard of Blackward” and, you assume, Clover the Storyteller, who swiftly managed to deal with their mutiny. If you and Golden Shield prove to be unlucky, you assume that you can always ask the two of them to find the corpses; they ought to remember at least that much?

“Poor Sulfur,” you say with a bit of a mock, “I don’t think he’s interested in Clover’s stories.”

“He might not be,” Golden Shield pauses with a smirk, “But I think she’s going to make him listen.”

“I don’t want to think of the ways she’s going to use for that… What’s her story anyway? I don’t think I remember her.”

Golden Shield approaches one of them many corners and gazes across the wall, he sighs when the spark he notices proves to be a shatter of glass windows – and nothing more. He slides the glass shard in his hoof and then, finally, looks at you, “She was appointed the Royal Strategist when the Royal Vizier came to replace Sombra, as by then the battle of Manehattan was still raging on. With her, I say incredible, luck and tactics we managed to breach through their defenses, annihilate the Pegasus battalion stationed near the sea and completely demolish their spirit. She might be silly, and might be a liar, Aurora, but she’s incredible when it comes to tactics and blessings of weather and fate. Mudbrick was aiming for her position too, the Royal Strategist, which is why their relationship is so-so.”

You have a grinding sensation in your crystallized heart – you do not enjoy the way he is praising her.

File: CS Blackward.png (65KB, 720x539px) Image search: [Google]

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“Right. Heard enough,” you glance into the skyscraper, following its raise all the way to the sky and above, “And what of Blackward? He seems a bit different from other ponies, Manehattan technology, I presume?”

“Yes,” Golden Shield smiles at you innocently, “When we finally took over Manehattan I was immediately send to siege Cloudsdale, not even a week of rest and break. The Vizier said that if we let them enough time they are going to be the ones who will attack us, so we didn’t have much of a choice. That is when I also encountered Celestia, but that’s another story. As for Blackward, he was a simple, blandish stallion who was also appointed by the Vizier to take care of the factories and soldier division inside Manehattan City. But he went away and above; Blackward forced himself of every production chain and aspect of the Manehattan augmentations and then he engineered his body to the ways you see now. He did not stop on himself, while his Vanguar consists mostly, as well as mine, of soldiers wearing Fidelity Helmets, they are drastically different. All of them are augmented and powerful as a horse.”

>What do you do now?

>>28815441
>new enemy acquired: Clover the Bullshitter
Well I can't tell I am surprised by them being powerful as a horse. We're one, ain't we? Keep our eyes peeled and search the perimeter thoroughly. There has to be some corpses worth scavenging around. Or some nice stuff, it's a big city after all. And since I'm not sure about the whole place, beware.

>>28815441
I assume many augments are permanent?

>>28815508
Why does she need to be our enemy? I see no reason to be hostile as of yet.

>>28815612
>potential enemy acquired
Better?

“I’m not surprised that they are as powerful as a horse, Shield, we are ones aren’t we?”

“Ponies, technically,” he says with a goofy smirk as he shakes his head in rebuttal, “Saddle Arabians are horses.”

You struggle to contain a dark magical sigh, “What’s their role in the conflict, anyway?” you ask.

“No idea, I assume they are staying away from it. Not a lot of races want to stand against the vile of Sombra…”

“I guess that’s true,” you shake your head as you notice something faith yet shining in the very middle of a narrow road, you take a step forward and Golden Shield follows you, “There are dragons, zebras, goats, gryphons…”

“Yeah, I have not seen any of them on the battlefield on the United Equestrian side, so there’s that.”

“As for the augmentation, I assume that they are permanent?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, “But they look painful, I don’t think he’ll look the same if you remove them.”

“Right,” you stop before the remains of a bright-blue crystal golem. Never have a corpse made you this happy and sad at the same time. With a mental smile you pick up several of the massive shards, only a bit disappointed that they are not closer to your scarlet-red color of flesh and nod as Golden Shield assists with picking up the rest.

“Not as great as I wanted,” you admit, “But I’d rather have this inside me than the cracked, leaking void that is now.”

“Dragon’s Blood, the most dangerous poison,” Shield says as you jerk your head at him. He is not scared, right?

“Yes, thankfully, it takes a very long while for the crystal ponies to react to it, so it’s fine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves his hoof with an easy-going attitude, “Some crystallized parts won’t stop me spending time with you, Aurora… But your mentioning of the other races made me think of the Lunar Guard,” he says gullibly, “We have not seen Lunar Meridian since the rescue mission, have we not, and since she is our Royal Agent she might be our link to figuring and finding out to what is currently going on in Canterlot, and United Equestria whole.”

>What do you do now?

>>28815900
I've completely forgotten her. What happened to her again? I thought the Equestrians kept her.

She would be quite useful despite her awful attitude, wouldn't she? Do you think she got back to the "Lunar Guard"?

“I almost forgot about her, Golden Shield… Think she helped rescue Spitfire and that’s it?”

“That’s it, yes,” he answers you with a nod of his own, “Even if they didn’t allow her to escape, which I think they did since she helped, she did it anyway. That enchanted mask of hers, she probably used it to its full advantage.”

“To become invisible, yes; sounds quite useful. With that, despite her attitude, she should be quite useful.”

“She has been during Manehattan and Cloudsdale sieges,” Golden Shield admits with a rub of his muzzle, “Ponies say and fear me alone, but I did not do that much compared to all the other ponies who helped…”

Not much to be proud of, you think.

“Do you think she returned back to the ‘Lunar Guard’ in the Hollow Shades, then?”

“I assume she did, she’s very protective of her town,” he pauses in a though, “I think that’s where we should go after you have rested and got yourself repaired… what do you say, Aurora?”

>What do you do now?

>>28816468
I believe that is a good course of action. So Shield... say the war ends, we put an end to Sombra, and we are free again. What do you imagine yourself doing?

Let's head back to Red.

The shards you and Shield are holding are massive in size, yet small in quantity. The fact is that there’re simply not enough of it to repair your fully; as you are just half of a standing statue now. It will take a bit more of those rubbles to do so and so, you glance across the fields and streets for more corpses. Finding a second and third one proves to be much easier, as it appears they all were at the same place, and got destroyed by the same powerful buck.

“Shield,” you ask in the middle of your walk, “Let’s think happy though. Say, when we win the war and defeat Sombra, and when we are finally free. What do you plan to do then?”

He pauses and hangs his head in a deep, dejected though. Then, with a simplest yet widest of grins, he answers, “I’ll probably find another way to be of use for the Crystal Empire, might join the Royal Guard as a recruit…”

“You are already the head part of the Royal Guard, kind of?”

“I’m happy to be of use and guidance to the Crystal Empire, Aurora… But I’d rather simply be of use, and that’s it.”

As you approach a distinct, red corpse you feel something strange about it, as if it is different from the other two. Realization hits you soon after: it’s made out of Dragon’s Blood, through and through. The powerful, pulsating feeling is vile, the air itself screeches around the corpse, as if attempting to gag the throat of the natural world itself. You take an even step forward, moving your hoof against the crystallized, scarlet mare. Golden Shield perks his eyebrow yet heeds to your signal and stops a few meters away from it. Strange, it’s a different kind of golem.

“It’s just like Wax Candle,” Shield finally comments as he notices your dreadful pause, “She’s one of the miners who went into the ‘Dread Layer’ and only returned when Sombra ventured there himself. Nopony but him knows what happened down there, but they somehow ended… this way, the poor souls. First Generation, he called them.”

“Garmr’s Powder, then?” you ask but he shakes his head in a negative.

“The ponies that were turned into golems by the strange powder are fully crystallized, sure, but they are not… walking stones of dragon’s blood. I’m not sure myself, it’s pretty complicated, but…” he pauses, “It’s worse.”

>What do you do now?

>>28816885
I think this one's remains are worth researching. I don't think Sulfur would want to though. Gather what is left of it and make sure to put it away somewhere safe. Does Garmr's Powder give them that red coloration aswell, I wonder.

Since it's getting late I'll stop here.Thank you for playing. Hope the drawings made it a bit more clear how those two characters are.

boop

>>28817072
The character pictures really helped a lot. Always love to see any art you put out.

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Fun fact of the day.

>>28814331
hastily bumping this thread

“This would be worth researching… Ginger Spice would want to, I imagine…” you pause and sigh, “But I can’t force Red Sulfur to risk his health and life for my sake… I can’t, right?”

“I’m sure after all of this is over we’ll be able to find a safer way to turn you back.”

“You sure?” you ask, your voice filled with a lingering optimism.

“Of course, not even one way,” he softly smiles back at you.

“I… trust you then to help me,” you raise your crystallized hoof at him, accidently booping him. You remove your hoof soon after with an awkward but haste jolt; he simply smiles back and picks up the bigger share of the crystal flesh shards. The two of you push the remains of the First Generation golem as far from the streets as you are able as Golden Shield, then, covers the body with dirt, stone shatters, wood pieces and other kinds of garbage splinters.

You two return back to the mines soon after, it seems the slaves are on short but haste break as they are nowhere to be found; either that or they are hiding. There’s a hushed giggle echoing against the tight, stone walls of the cavern mine; it grows in volume as you approach the dim light of the end. Golden Shield hushes you as the two of you lean against the underground wall. You spot Quoits Clover laying her head on Red Sulfur’s shoulders as he is attempting to patch up a temporary alchemical laboratory, or so you assume, as it is only a couple of vials, crystals and fire.

“So, about that one time when I met an enormous fish-like-creature, let me tell you about that.”

“I’ve told you,” he grunts, “I’d rather hear about the last time you visited the Crystal Empire, Royal Strategist.”

“Are you sure, Sulphy? They say if you meet these rainbows fish all your dreams will come true.”

“How come they didn’t, for you?” he narrows his eyes with half-attention.

“Who said they didn’t?” she winks at him, “Oh, maybe you want more details on how I bathed before I encountered it in the lake, then? I don’t mind telling all the juicy details.”

“Do… continue,” he looks at her with a smirk.

“Ahem,” you break their intimate moment, though they do not react with shame and Clover barely bothers to raise her head away from Sulfur’s body. She gives you a wave of her hoof and Sulfur follows with an uncertain nod. “We’re back,” you say hesitantly, “And we brought the flesh back with us. Think you can start straight away?”

Red Sulfur looks over all the crystals you have gathered and corks his eyebrow at you, “I guess I can… took you less than I hoped, wanted to take a nap. Eh, well, alright Aurora. You’re going to fall asleep yourself or stay awake? And I’m still curious if you want to remove this unknown crystal or not, knowing your “chastity” stance over your body.”

You are unsure what is worse, to feel a stallion reach inside your body with his hooves or to potentially face Sombra’s deception and harassment in the deep, mental corners of your mind. For you are sure, it won’t be a pleasant dream.

>What do you do now?

>>28820350
>they get along kinda good
>Sulfur opens just a little bit
>we return
I feel awkward. He might have had some good moments, but eh. He'll surely have some time for that later. I suggest we should take a nap right now, when our friends are around. We should feel safer this way and hopefully we would be able to actually get some rest and get to work. As for the mysterious crystal, I think Sulfur should at least examine it, then remove if we won't discover anything.

>>28820350
Take a nap, but keep the mysterious crystal.

>>28820350
I say we remove it.

>>28821197
Remove after examination, it may be useful.

Save

Hard working day today, guys. I'll update tomorrow if it hopefully stays alive.

>>28826362

>>28825229
I'm going places very soon, so have a bump. I hope I will see this thread up when I will be able to use internet again.

“I’d prefer a nap, honestly. I might not be tired but… I would rather sleep this over,” your words stumble.

“Fine,” Red Sulfur shrugs non-caring, “I’ll try to be careful with you, Aurora. No promises… Never worked on a crystal golem before, didn’t think I’d have to…” He hangs his head dejectedly, albeit slowly.

“Oh, I know a tribe of magical stone-ponies who carved their own bodies out of limestone,” Quoits Clover nods optimistically at you, “Really; they used to be magical, sentient rocks. They then carved themselves out. Cool, right?”

“You’re kind of a heavy sleeper, are you not?” Golden Shield offers you a smile.

“That’s not true,” you blush mentally, “I-I just…”

“That’s not a bad thing, if I didn’t have so many things to take care of… I’d sleep a lot too,” he admits with an easy-going attitude, approaching you face to face, “Are you sure, though, Aurora? Last time you went to sleep you…”

“I’m sure if Sombra tries to take me under his control again, I’ll stop him. It’s my body; he has no control over it.”

Red Sulfur glances from side to side and then places his hoof on the wooden, shaking table, “Well, find yourself comfortable in here, somewhere, and I’ll be right by you. And for the crystal…”

“Can you research it first?” you ask, “and if it’s something useful, keep it? If not, please remove it.”

“I’m sure it’s something useful,” he sighs, “Just like all those other crystals we brought from the Warden Tree, but,” he pauses, “Without Ginger Spice I’m not even sure where to start here… Alright, I’ll try.”

“Just try breaking or throwing it around,” Clover whispers at him, “It always worked for me!”

You approach one of the many dim, dark corners; this one of the only ones barely lit by a dying wax candle. You carefully, not to further scrap and damage your crystal body, lean against the wall and place your damaged back, chest and scrap of a leg open for inspection and repair. You trust Red Sulfur to do it properly… Hopefully. Golden Shield leans against the wall near you. His armor grinds against the rocky pattern. He looks at you with a barely lifted smile, nodding, “And don’t worry, okay? Just have a good sleep. We’ll keep a watch over you.”

You do not answer, preferring to simply dip your head at him. In the gloom and murky atmosphere of the slave mines you find easier than ever to allow your, completely unused and boiling, coffers of dark magic consume the world before you. The dark blanket soon shrouds your mind entirely. You feel yourself becoming soft, reality turning into elastic, transcending nexus. At first, it appears that the dark magic is not allowing you to fall into a dream, as it instead puts you in this barely noticeable void, a sea of unfathomable unexplained; just like so many times before with the Crystal Note, you find yourself inside a pocket of the magical energy, yet this time it’s akin to a lucid dream.

You can probably create any dream or re-live any parts of your past you want. Or maybe you can do something else.

>What do you do now?

>>28828032
Try to relive some of our childhood and discovering our talent, or maybe graduation and first time we actually used our talent after discovering it. That should make us happy.

>>28828054
That sounds pretty good.

>>28829537

Once again, sorry but it appears to be looking like a grim week with a lot of additional, overtime job. I'll probably be only update daily until friday, guys, as long as the thread is alive. I apologize.

>>28830973

>>28833230

Perhaps the time of your life when you have earned and first used your talent might be a good place to reminisce about? Maybe, it has been such a long time of existence in this life of sourness and coldness that you practically forgot how it happened, even though it was supposed to be one of the greatest, most electrifying days of your life. Your greatest memory is nothing but a blur. For a filly or a colt, receiving a Cutie Mark is virtually the only point of their foalhood, the biggest goal, the greatest achievement. It is their Mountain Everhoof. You let yourself remember.

The twisting void of your sinister, powerful arcane starts shifting around you; it is similar to a blazing, flaming whirlpool during a cold and gray, as well as rainy, night. Soon, you find yourself in a very comfortable, soft and bright-red chair. You are a filly in this memory, of course you are. Your parents are sitting by your left and right side, sharing the same comfortable seating as you. When you finally take a look around, you find that you are currently inside a dimly yet beautifully lit concert hall, and there are a lot of ponies attending this performance. There’s an enormous and tall scene before you, practically glittering under the radiance of orange-red crystal candle lights…

Yet, it is empty. What could be the reason?

“It should be starting now,” your father, Northern Light, mutters to himself and to your mother hesitantly.

She simply nods in a strict, her usual, tone. She then returns her gaze to her paperwork, even here. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a brightly lit corridor underneath the scene, perhaps the dressing room of the orchestra? Maybe they are having fun, or a repetition, and they forgot to keep the track of time? It happens to you often. Should you tell them?

>What do you do now?

File: Golems.png (31KB, 498x595px) Image search: [Google]

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And a small bonus explaining the Crystal Golems.

>>28834919
Can we sneak away from our seat? I feel adventure-y, and I'm pretty sure she would as well.

>>28834923
Also sorry for double-posting, but I appreciate the golem type chart. It'll surely help in the future. Is it just me or we're sort of between-generations golem, closer to the first one? Don't worry if your thread will die. At least this time you have a suggestion to work with.

>>28834719

>>28834919
We should excuse ourselves and take it upon ourselves to see what's holding them up.

>>28836527

Bump it or just let it die?

>>28841669
I'll bump.

>>28842712
I can bump before sleeping too.

>>28842712

>>28845114

Proper session tomorrow guys, sorry for no updates but thank you for keeping the thread alive.

>>28848033

>>28848875

>>28851287

>>28847411
Bump. Nice numbers Vince.

You remember feeling daring back then, wishful to lend a hoof. You climbed, reluctantly, down your comfortable sit once you made sure none of your parents paid you the over-watching attention. Broodingly, your mother adjusted her big, dorky glasses and turned the page of her notebook. Your father had his eyes glued upon the empty scene. He was waiting patiently for the last whole month to attend this occasion, with you and your mother. Your father was, and still is, hyped for this performance and you if those ponies were about to disappoint him… they better not.

You crawl in order to not be spotted and, since you are a small filly, you are able to successfully pass beneath the dozen hooves and tails without catching unneeded and un-required attention. It made you feel like a spy embarking on a secret mission, you remember, and it was kind of a happy feeling. You place your hooves on the long, open stairwell and, with a pace of a snail, you move below the scene.

You harshly close the open, wooden door behind you with a struggle of a small mare. You find yourself in a long, white and brightly-lit crystal corridor. This is, what they call, the fabled backstage. This is the place of glory and last breath for those who are about to embark on their final journey into the scene. You remember your mother planning a class visit here a few weeks ago, but it never came to be for one reason or another. You notice several well-maintained doors, all of them decorated with lean borders and rich gemstones and crystals. Every single door is decorated with a carved, golden naming. “Coffee Room”, “Rehearsal Room”, “Dressing Room”, “Instrument Room”.

>What do you do now?

I'm a bit tired today so let's see how far we can go.

>>28854347
Get to the instrument one. Sounds like something from our music class.

You push your hooves against the wooden surface, slightly dirtying the wonderful and clean door in the process, as you stand up on your back legs and press the doorknob down, forcing the entry to obediently open yourself to you. To your surprise, it seems nopony locks door those days. As you stumble and land back on all four of your hooves, you look inside the “Instrument Room”, or more like, a massive closet. It’s dim, dark shadow makes it incredibly hard for you to see anything. The crystal candle is unlit and, even if you had a way to put the flame back with you, it’s too damn high.

The brightness of the luminous corridor is able to softly enter the dim room, showing you only so-so of its insides. The massive amount of musical instruments inside here is astonishing: ranging from drums to acoustic guitars, from flutes to xylophones, from violins to vuvuzelas and from harps and lyres to trombones; all of them neatly stored. The room is empty, and apparently, many of the instruments are missing from their rightful, named space on the shelves.

>What do you do now?

>>28854612
Hmm. Check rehersal.

You decide to leave the room to be, you are not a thief after all. Instead, you approach and raise your head to the tall door that leads to the so-called “Rehearsal Room” and, thankfully, you are able to hear some sort of noises, and what seems to be a growing commotion, inside. Instead of opening the door, you lean your right ear to it. There’s a loud thud that virtually makes you jump in fright. It’s nothing serious, though; the argument inside continues.

“No,” a mare’s voice rings after an angry pause, “No! You shouldn’t start playing clarinets until we are finished-“

“How do we know when you are finished when you play so slowly?” another voice responds with hostility.

“We had this rehearsal ten times each day, Murky Note! You ought to have learned by now!”

“Yes,” he grunts, “Maybe! But I’m always concentrated here, it’s usually First Ode’s sign that I follow, you know!”

“Well, she’s not here,” she answers back, “And we must be on that scene already, ten minutes ago! Ponies are waiting! Now, one more, last, time. Don’t screw this up, Note, and none of you. We can’t be ruined, not today.”

And then you hear them play and, as you expected, the tempo of their play is horrible, the musical entries are either wrong or late and their phrasing is all over the place. They are unable to play an orchestra, just as their individual selves, original musical pieces. But this is not what makes a symphony, and this cacophony of sounds is not music. Is the firstchair or a conductor so important the whole place orchestra fails apart without them?

>What do you do now?

>>28855510
So they don't have a conductor? Do... we have any experience conducting? It can't be too hard can it?

Try and open the door to get a better look at what's going on.

Even though you have no prior experience conducting, you can feel inside your body than their tempo is all wrong, and you can hear that they are not playing in perfect union, in perfect and gentle symphony that they are suppose to. It appears, or so you think, that they have never practiced without a conductor prior. All they have to do is to play their instruments in union, and the hardest part is to play the instrument – you know.

In their loud ruckus and commotion you gently push the door open, and as you leave a very narrow open space, just enough to glance inside, you look. It appears nopony have heard or noticed, as you see a rather broad and empty room, about half of the size of the scene, and thirty ponies inside of it. Most of them have a grunt plastered over their faces, some of them are in shock and one of the mares appears to be crying. The two, one of them a stallion Murky Note, is arguing with the mare in loud, hostile tone. She has a white skin and bright, orange mane. She’s playing a massive bass, it seems, and her expression is that of a pain as her “final rehearsal” burns before her eyes.

“No,” she says angrily, “We can’t do it like this; we are going to postpone our concert until Ode’s health improves.”

“We can’t do that,” a member of the orchestra yells in shock, “They’ll never invite us to perform here ever again!”

“Well, what can we do?” she snaps, “None of you are able to play in tone, and I can’t abandon the important instrument that is the main bass, do you want me to give you signals? We don’t have time for that right now!”

>What do you do now?

>>28856174
No! You can't cancel it! Daddy has been waiting all month for this! What if... what if... what if I did it? What if I was the conductor for you?

Aurora is very nervous to volunteer herself but is determined to make this night for her dad.

Think that's all for today, see ya tomorrow.

>>28858199

>>28856226
I feel like it fits. A nervous little filly tries to calm the whole orchestra down and conduct. Then it actually works. That's the thing every child should feel - accomplishment before adults.

You push the door wide open, enough to spot and then somewhat succumb to the presence of dozen of ponies before you. It did not help that now, they have spotted you immediately. The crying mare instantaneously starts scrubbing off her tears, her head quickly turning away from you to hide her crying face. Some of the members of the orchestra act surprised, if not conflicted, at your sudden emergence. The white-skinned mare leans her massive bass instrument against one of the marble walls and then approaches you with uncertainty, her mood pissed off.

She turns her back, though, as she loudly asks her colleagues, “Who let a foal inside? What is the security doing?!”

“Calm down, Cuprum String,” the one she called Murky Note sighs, “They are searching for us, I bet.”

“That’s now what they are paid to do,” she groans, ignoring you completely afterwards, “Anyway, we have to go and tell the directors that we simply can’t play today. We might have to go and apologize before the auditorium, too.”

“No!” you scream at them, “You can't cancel it! My father has been waiting all month for your concert.”

The ponies around you exchange uncertain, cringing glances. They are displeased with this, as much as you.

“It’s either a postponing or a failed orchestra,” String jabs at you, “We are not playing like this,” she hisses.

“I-I know your problem,” you mutter, “What if I... helped you? I can help you.”

“Preposterous,” the mare says, “Are you out of your mind, filly? She doesn’t even have a Cutie Mark yet!”

Murky Note places the clarinet to his lips, playing a soft tune to catch your attention, “Little filly,” he says in a monotone but smiling notion, “Have you ever tried conducting before? If you have some experience then...”

“No,” you speak softly, “I have not...”

“Yeah,” he sighs and turns towards the bass playing mare with a jittery shrug, “Let us tell the director then... Damn.”

>What do you do now?

>>28860407
Just tell them what was wrong. Maybe they won't listen, but at least you tried, right?

>>28860407
I don't care if I have no experience, at lest let me try conducting you guys.

Aurora is filled with DETERMINATION

>>28860407
Let me try! Just once. I-if I can't do it then you can cancel it. Give me one chance. Please?

“Just give me one chance” you plead to the crow of adult ponies, more experienced and talented than you. You can feel it in the air, how ridiculous it must look from side for a little, talentless filly to ask to conduct an entire orchestra. But if this means your father will miss the event he has been looking towards for so long, you won’t let is slide. They are not bad ponies, for sure, and they do not want to disappoint the public. It’s important to them; and to you too.

“Please,” you whisper once again, “Let me try! Just once!”

“Try what?” String approaches you, her eyes filled with desolation upon you, and “Do you know the signs?”

“I… I know what you are doing wrong,” you say, “You need somepony who can hear the flow of your instrument play and tell you when to follow, when to slow down and when to join. You just need a nudge, I’m that nudge. I can be!”

Murky Note glances over the murmuring crowd and then turns away, approaching one of them many cupboards in the Far East corner of the room. He removes a long, wooden yet lean baton and presents it to you.

“Are you out of your mind, Murky Note?” the mare asks him, “She doesn’t even know what we are playing.”

“She’s right, Cuprum String. It can be anypony who has a perfect hearing and knowledge of musical tempo. This little filly over here found her way in the concert hall somehow, meaning she knows something. Let’s play one part.”

“I’ll let you test her on winds alone,” she grunts, “I’m going to observe and listen. If there’s a single slip…”

“What’s your name, little filly?” he asks you with a smirk, ignoring the older mare before him.

“Aurora,” you say as you raise the baton to your chest, “Aurora Flare.”

Twenty of the ponies, after a short uncertain pause, place themselves on the wooden seating inside the repetition room. Everyone else of the instruments: bass, violas, violins, cellos and drums, sit aside to observe your best effort. Despite your determination to make this right, cold sweat falls off your shoulders in a tremendous worry. Piccolos, flutes, trumpets, trombones, tubas and clarinets – those are the instruments you have to work with, the lot of them.

You gasp for air… and raise your baton, despite their disbelief, they professionally follow suit and start playing.

The flutes follow with a long, majestic melody, too majestic if you were the one to judge. There’s a lingering, sensation in their tempo, as if they are attempting to catch unneeded attention, play a one-instrument-game. That won’t do. There must be a way to slow down their play and let another instrument join inside the perfect flow.

>What do you do now?

>>28860686
Just signal for them to calm their tits. I actually don't know how to conduct, so either we will power through the test or you will need to find a musician among your players.

>>28860760
Don't worry, it's not music theory test.

>>28860760
This and signal someone else to join in.

You close your eyes for a moment or two, hearing the tempo and flow of the melody in its professional glory. Usually, the conductors have the musical sheets of the symphony laid before their eyes in advance, but even if you had such a generous gift right now, you are just barely able to read them – the notes. You have a musical ear, which is something your father and even your mother once notice. It is something they admitted to being true. Instead of playing instruments, you preferred to listen to them being played and weaved to their full potential. Even in class, when you had tried all sorts of musical instruments yourself; you grew too accustomed to their sound, too bored. It was different to when your classmates practices, when you could hear them play and notice their mistakes and wins.

You point the baton towards the few flutes ponies before you, and you place it to your lips, as if saying to hush. They listen straight away, an order from a conductor being an order from the most important ponyin the orchestra. It is time for other ponies to join, for an instrument that flows naturally and won’t suddenly break the pitch and key set by the flutes prior.

What instrument could that be out of the ones that are currently anticipating a chance to jump in?

>What do you do now?

>>28861095
Oh fuck I don't know. Trumpets. I like trumpets.

>>28861095
I want to say saxophone, but we an instrument that would play well with the flute. So let go with the piccolos.

Piccolos, of course! A small half-size flute and one instrument some ponies label the little octave. It is going to join perfectly with the instrument that is the regular flute, and will be a perfect accompany to the present symphony. Of course, the ponies playing know that already, they are simply testing you. They know their right pace and the moment in the concerto they must enter, though not perfectly. You are going to make them play it outright ideal.

As the temperament and pitch of the orchestra grows, you motion your baton to the trumpets and, as if you have imagined, they immediately echo into the musical piece, their noise setting the grandiose of the whole symphony from imaginary paper and idea into reality. You feel your burning heart, just about to burst, a sensation of creation that it was your and your guidance alone that crafted this masterful and harmonious melody. But the trumpets soon attempt to go off-pitch – to overgrow the quietness of the flutes and piccolos, drowning them in harsh melody.

>What do you do now?

>>28861271
Do as before and tell them to calm down. I suppose it's time for another instrument to join.

You lower your baton yet again, forcing the trumpets to calm down; the power of the most important and leading person in all of orchestra in the hooves of a small filly, and it’s a somewhat incredible feeling. One after another you allow the remaining instruments to join in, all in their proper flow and judgment, in a gentle slide of pitch, tempo and sound. You gasp your breath, not allowing even the huff of your mouth to break the concentrated stream of music. Then, once all the instruments are in place, playing a gentle, composite and tranquil waltz of music, you keep a ruthless grasp over it.

You are unaware of conductors’ signals yet, they prove to be quite easy to use and learn. You point the baton to the ponies you want to join in or, instead, back down. You make sure that nopony breaks the pitch or the tempo… And once there is silence, despite your completely unawareness of what musical piece they were even playing, you finally allow yourself to breath in deeply once again. With a tight, hungering gasps you observe the baffled, surprised orchestra participants. Murky Note quietly lowers his flute and looks, first at you and then at Cuprum String.

“I think we can do it,” he smiles, “I think she can actually do it.”

“I’m still not sure,” she shrugs her shoulders, “There were a few mistakes…”

“Just give her the symphony notations,” he says as he gives you a gentle, single clap of his hooves.

“If we screw up this is going to be the end of us,” she says angrily, “Filly, if we screw up it will be your fault.”

>What do you do now?

>>28861972
Then we will take the blame.

File: Discord.jpg (112KB, 1920x1080px) Image search: [Google]

112KB, 1920x1080px

I'll end this on a cliffhanger because I'm falling asleep. I thank you all for playing and participating in CS so far, and I hope you are enjoying the ride.

>>28861972
O-okay...

We have to put on a good show. For mom and dad!

>>28864408

>>28862253
Thanks for running too, bro. It's one of my favourite quests here so far and I can even actively participate most of the time. It's a miracle!

Anyway >>28862162 and >>28863402 are right. We're going to take the blame in case things will go south, because we're the ones who got into this mess in the first place. But we're doing this so our parents could enjoy a great symphony in it's full beauty. I'm sure they'd be happy to see us trying hard to make their evening awesome. I feel like Aurora should remain rather optimistic, even if stressed.

>>28865914
Thank you for the kind words, if you could say what you enjoy about the quest the most so that I could continue improving in that regard, please do. As for the next session, I'm afraid it'll be either next Thursday or Friday. See you lot then.

>>28867006
If I have to be honest, I enjoy every single time when Aurora can rest and think about her past or talk with Shield/any other pony while danger isn't creeping around. These moments are so rare that each feels rather special. That and I like the way you create characters. They tend to have something making them somewhat memorable, plus I think you're developing them more the more time we spend around them. That's nice. Another good thing is the art. It isn't something like Mona Lisa, but it helps visualizing the characters plus you're drawing better than me, I won't be the judge. Sometimes you make minor mistakes, usually it's a wrong word, like you were autocorrected by your computer or something, but it's understandable. Overall, good job Vince.

>>28867033
Sometimes I'm thinking of a particular word, but then I end up using another because I’m attempting to some flamboyant language and wording in my prompts. English is not my main language, though I am trying to master it. Thank you for the praise on the characters; that's what I'm attempting to do, usually, have moments that are earned, not given, and because of that are that much more enjoyable and deserving to go through.