A/N: I had to replace this chapter because it got overwritten with the next one. WHY ME.
It took maybe a minute or an hour but I finally worked up the courage and ventured out of my alley. I was greeted by the hustling streets of some city. The first guy...stallion that ran into me had some choice words for my kind. I apologized profusely and followed the stream of people-er, ponies-with haste.
I had, with great exultation, salvaged my wallet from the pocket of my pants. The majority of the contents were just my school ID, driver's license, quarters and dimes with a twenty shoved in there from the last time I visited my parents. My job wasn't exactly high paying and my parents would hide money for me to find if I cleaned the house. Meh, my sister was constantly complaining about having to work and blahblahblah so she never had 'time' to do chores between senior year and her job. I often wish I could slap her and shove her face into the land of Real World. She's gotta learn that dancing will only get you so far.
But continuing on.
I had a plan. If I was where I thought I was, this was Equestria. Why else would my hooves look like this? This wasn't Ponyville and this wasn't Canterlot; I had no idea for the first few blocks. It was, well, New York-esque. So then, judging from the dirty looks I was getting at my damp and disheveled appearance, I started thinking this was Manehattan and I looked like a homeless bum. Also, I actually recognized two background ponies from the twenty third episode. Shut up, I know my ponies.
My plan was to get to Ponyville. I needed to go somewhere that I knew. Well, knew as well as one could know a cartoon location. As an avid brony from age fourteen, I kept the obsession alive through all six seasons until college stress chased it away for a while. Of course, once a brony always a brony and I knew the residents of Ponyville. I'd be in familiar territory even if I had no idea what I was doing.
For now, it was getting dark. And I didn't have any money. That was putting a huge damper on my train-to-Ponyville scheme. I needed cash and frankly, I needed a meal. If I had a guitar...busking.
I wandered the streets for maybe ten minutes and it seems like I was successfully avoiding the upper class district. That was my marvelous mind power at work. And the banners loudly and colourfully proclaiming 'Manehattan Cultural Region.' Basically the theatre district. At any rate, I was looking for a busker. Somebody ready to leave so I could take their spot for one song, maybe two. Enough for a bag of Cheetos or something.
I knew that it was too much to ask of any random hobo-pony. But I needed cash.
Five minutes of running into ponies, getting mean looks, and passing brightly coloured lights and different venues. How I wished I could find someone, anyone, to lend me a song.
I was actually kinda pissed when there weren't any buskers for a while. I mean, I know it's not Temple Bar but come on.
Another ten minutes of the sky turning dark and my hooves getting sore and I finally found some random dude half in and half out of an alley. He was all huddled up beneath a big wool blanket with only his horn pointing out. A ragged acoustic guitar case lay next to his motionless form. I thought he was dead until I poked him with a loud, "Sir?"
Bleary eyes looked up from behind messy black hair. An eyebrow was raised. "I ain't no sir, ma'am."
Quick response, activate! "An' I ain't no ma'am, sir."
The guy sat up and stretched. "Touché. Whataya want?"
I did a quick inspection. He wasn't homeless. He was too well kept. "So, you aren't who I'm looking for..."
He looked at me a little confused. "What do ya mean?"
I shrugged. Well, I tried to. It was more like a head-bob-swing as my shoulders weren't where they usual are. "I was looking for some homeless bum whose guitar I could steal for a song."
The guy chuckled. "Ya, I'm not homeless. I'm a college student."
"Same thing," I deadpanned. Jobs were hard to come by. I worked in a coffee shop in town by my college. It was not high paying but working after the homecoming parade got me some good tips. Ya. It sucks.
The hobo/student cocked his head to the side. "Well, you can use my guitar anyways. Name's Fourth String but you can call me G. I'm a music major." Clever colt.
I watched as a green magic to match the student's eyes enveloped the case and revealed a beautiful-though worn-acoustic. The body was curved a bit more than my Yamaha acoustic-electric. The finish gleamed in mahogany tones and a black pick guard set wonderfully against the wood. Pearl inlay caught my eye in flowery lettering. Bitson. Gibson? Wut.
I took the guitar with some fumbling and near dropping before I sat and cradled the beauty in my forelegs. I raised my right hoof to strum and my left to press the frets before I realized a crucial part of the guitar playing process. I didn't have fingers.
G stared at me with mounting awkwardness and second thoughts flitting over his eyes. It occurred to me then that he looked like Harry Potter without glasses. Oh, and a pony. All I wanted was a simple G chord. E on third, A on second, B on third, e on third. Gently strum. Top to bottom. Ring out the high G. Just let it play.
And it played.
I let out the gusty breath I didn't know I was holding and opened my eyes that I wasn't aware were closed. A shimmering blue-grey-green pressure held down the strings right where I wanted it. I could play. Eff to the yeah!
New skill acquired:_
Magic._
You're stupid not to have noticed before._
You're a unicorn, Harry!_
Recommended action:_
Proceed with initial action._
I quickly ran through my arsenal of memorized chords. After eleven years of playing, there was one song that I could never forget no matter how hard I tried. I closed my eyes and let the magic do the work.
The first rift played out with the little bit of slap back I gave it. I ran through the second loop and remembered playing it on bass and having my sister complain I didn't do it right. E minor.
"The walls are built up," jump to A minor then G, "Stone by stone," do that funky F sharp thing up top. Run the chords again. "Hills divided one by one."
I chuckled a bit at the next lyric. It corresponded beautifully to my 'Plan.' "And the train conductor says, 'Take a break, Driver 8. Driver 8 take a break; you've been on the shift too long."
There's the D. Switch just as quickly to C. "And the train conductor says, 'Take a break, Driver 8. Driver 8 take a break; we can reach our destination." Get that E minor with the G top stuff. "But we're still a ways away."
That's when the self consciousness smacked me upside the head and heat filled my cheeks. I decided to end it early but not without using my newfound magic to play half chords and the rift at the same time. iSame time, bro./i
I ended on my last E minor and opened my eyes with a little bit of fear. What did I just do!?
I glanced at G with worry before something small and hard nailed me in the chest. It clinked against the guitar and my hoof shot out and grabbed it. Somehow. I looked up as a very well dressed pony turned away from flicking the half bit in my direction. I deadpanned loudly as his retreating form entered the nearby theatre. "Your generosity is worth buckets of love and tolerance, sir!"
"Wow, that was great!" G beamed with a chuckle. "Short song, though."
I felt my spirit shrink and slowly leave my body. "W-well, that wasn't the whole thing...I got nervous. Really nervous. I knew I was gonna mess up if I kept going."
G cocked his head to the side. "Oh, I doubt that."
I handed (hoofed?) him back his guitar with a sheepish smile. I played with the coin absentmindedly. "Trust me. I haven't done this in a long time." Like...ever? Does that count as a long time?
The Harry Potter horse chuckled and pushed the guitar gently back to me. "I don't believe that. And ya know what?" He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out five little golden coins. "Let me be the first to say your skills don't belong on street corners." Innuendo? Shut up, inner self.
He tossed me the coins and with a spark of surprise, I caught them. I was speechless. Not only did he just give me five bits, but he just gave me five bits. That I caught. He spoke again. "Do you like the sound of this guitar?"
A little confused, I tried to pass the guitar back with a nod and shoved the bits in my pocket. "Oh, yeah. It's tone is absolutely beautiful. It sounds a bit like my father's."
G smiled crookedly and took the instrument. He laid it in its case, closed the latch, and pressed it firmly into my arms. Forelegs. "Keep it, then."
There was a moment of silence. "Oh, I couldn't!" I exclaimed. Why in the almighty hay was he trying to give me such an awesome piece?
He chuckled and stood up, his blanket folding in a green glow and laying across his shoulders. "I have seven guitars back up in my dorm. One less doesn't kill me and that's not even my favourite."
I held the case awkwardly and blinked. "B-but...you can't just give me a guitar!"
He cocked his head to the side. "Says who?"
New item acquired:_
Bitson Acoustic Guitar._
Well-loved and simply beautiful._
Unlimited ammo._
Recommended action:_
Cease thought process._
I did not have an answer for that. With no small amount of awe and gratitude, I watched the guy pick up his pack and turn to walk down the road. He took pause and looked back. "I never did catch your name."
Name. Uh... "I don't have one." Huh. That would work for now.
G raised a skeptical eyebrow before executing a natural looking shrug (the jerk) and smiling. "Then I hope we see each other again, No-Name."
I blushed. "Maybe." Then he was gone; walking leisurely down the road with his load lightened by a wayward soul.
I wrestled the guitar onto my back. I had yet to master the fine art of telekinesis. Do not think me stupid; I certainly tried using methods illustrated in various fanfictions. I thought about what I wanted to happen and tried to tap into my center to let my will flow to the action I desired. Leylines and crud. That didn't work worth a damn.
Instead, I slung the strap around my middle, through my front legs, and tightened it as far as it could go. The buckle had never needed to shrink so far it seemed and the nylon strap was a little stiff as it bent in new places. After situating the bulky new equipment, I cast my gaze around the streets. I needed to set off in search of the train station. I was going to find my way if it killed me. Although, with a grumble of my stomach, I realized it already was.
Where's a McDonald's when you need it, eh?
A/N: Twas quite a trip getting this to load back in so help me out and click that special review button to let me know how this is going. You know you want to~
Word Count: 1963
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (c) Hasbro
Driver 8 (c) R.E.M
Everything else I missed (c) Everyone I forgot about
