Post by Solar Solstice on Nov 18, 2012 16:26:03 GMT -5
OOC Date: October 2, 2012 - October 3, 2012
Characters: Nightshade, Marble Memory
Setting: Nightshade attempts to discover if Marble ever relaxes like a normal pony.
Officially, Nightshade was on Royal business here in Owl City, inspecting the new construction projects, but in reality its mostly an excuse for her to escape the capital and have some fresh, forest air. She strides leisurely down a long hoofbridge, her official regalia glinting like gems amidst the loamy structures. The low-lying clouds shielded the sun but left enough sky showing to provide a pleasant background. The tranquility of the place was almost too much to justify any sort of work-related visit, and the shadow-hued unicorn finds her mind wandering towards the higher things in life.
So what brings Marble Memory, Unemployed Bureaucrat, to Owl City? He's a pegasus, he shoul djust be able to go right on up to Cloudsdale. The answer is very simple: Marble hates to fly. Really. So he's been looking into this new place he's heard about. Owl City. Fascinating!
Nightshade indulges in the pleasures of idleness, losing herself to flights of fancy, prancing down avenues of infinite possibilities. The shapes and colours of the town stretch ever upward in her minds eyes, the patterns and forms of earth and wood hinting of higher things, the Highest Things, a memory of perfection hidden in the kernel of the mind. Then she comes across Marble, and suddenly she hurtles down, down to the base and vulgar vicissitudes of actual sociability. "A felicitous meeting, this," she says politely, though really he was the last pony is wanted to meet right now.
<OOC> You say, "Her attitude can change, though, so don't worry about having a difficult time"
Marble doesn't have an opinion on the meeting now that she is no longer his boss. He wonders if she was the one who opened the resignation letter. Oh dear. "Hello, Nightshade. H-how are you?" Well, okay, maybe Marble is a touch uncomfortable.
Nightshade decides that she ought to make the best of it. "I am fine, good sir." She looks upon him with a distant, but penetrating, gaze. "I see that you are enjoying your...retirement quite nicely, Marble."
"Retirement? Enjoying? Neither. trying to get a new job. Perhaps you have heard I am running for Chancellor?" Marble says. He knows he could never enjoy retirement. He loves work too much. Or time with Vinyl. But he misses work!
Nightshade has heard many things about the Chancellorship race, and none of them has changed her dour opinion of the matter. If Marble was still in her employ she would have said something pointed but polite, but now... "I am not certain of the dignity of an office that permits Ms. Pie to run for it," she states baldly. "I am certain, though, that you have other plans to gain employment...right?"
"... Perhaps." Well, Vinyl asked him to be her manager. "A... certain pony may have asked for my deties in organization... to... aid her career?" He's playing coy, and badly, at that. "I'm hopinh to be a Chancellor with dignity and above all: Responsibility."
"The Chancellor of Ponyville's 'responsibilities' include cutting ribbons at royal events in town and maintaining the annual count of sheep flocks," Nightshade says. "Manager...you mean, Ms. Vinyl Scratch's manager for her musical career? That one would be an excellent job, I would think. Less pomp but more real utility."
Marble fidgets when Nightshade guesses correctly. "U... u-um... how did you figure that out?" Did he say it? He's been known to let things slip from time to time. But mostly he just wonders if he ever mentioned his relationship with her to Nightshade.
Nightshade peers at Marble as if he's been caught trying to hide a boil on his face. "Your relationship with Ms. Scratch is well known amongst the townsfolk," she says. "Besides, I have ways of finding out." Actually, she just asked one of the servants, but its best to maintain an aura of mystique surrounding her authority. "But, really, you should consider focusing on that endeavour above all. Ms. Pie will probably win anyway due to her much greater popularity."
Wow, a bureaucrat with connections. That certainly worries Marble more than it should. "O... o-oh dear. Um... s... s-so you know all there is to know about... us?" And then Nightshade weighs in with her piece. "Thanks."
"Don't give me too much credit," Nightshade says. Admittedly, she only managed to find that out by asking around thoroughly. "And you're welcome." She feels a breeze start to carry her thoughts away again. "I tired of talking about work. Shall we...walk together?"
"What brings you here to Owl City? Or... i-is that talking about work?" MArble asks. He doesn't want to put Nightshade in any worse sort of mood. His reasons are as simple as not liking the typical pegasi pastime.
"Work is the excuse, yes," says Nightshade, "but its actually a small bit of subterfuge on my part." She walks at a comfortably slow pace, admiring the architecture and the scenary, even the tacky-looking Umbrella Beach. "I have not been able to enjoy time apart from work in too long. Being able to gather your thoughts together is quite...excellent."
Marble is alongside, of course. He never willingly went on vacation before. "I see. So you decided to come and see Owl City for yourself, then?"
"Yes," says Nightshade. "I have been observing its development from my office, but I haven't visited until now. It is...delightful." She gazes around, letting the wondrous place take hold of her, take her someplace else. "It is times like this when I can truly contemplate the order and harmony of the universe."
"Too bad I'm not too fond of Cloudsdale." Marble says out of the blue, looking up at the cloud city above. Really, Marble, you're such a mood killer.
Nightshade gives Marble a weird look. "Marble...what do you like to do when you're idle?"
Dusk notes those in sight of the Everfree might see a yellow glow coming from within it. The smoke is probably not visible in the dark except what it obscures of the sky. (Public-pose)
"I'm not one who cares to be idle." Marble says, fidgeting nervously. "My old life was work, a few drinks, perhaps the opera or a ballet, then home for rest." Not much to go on for Marble.
"Opera or ballet counts as leisure," Nightshade says. "I myself am fairly fond of opera, particularly those that come from across the ocean. Tell me, Marble, have you ever seen 'The Farrier of Withersburg'?"
"I saw the opening night at the National Equestrian Theatre." Marble points out. "I spent quite a bit of money for a ticket, too. Worth every bit, of course. After a while performance becomes so much more... rehearsed and routine."
Nightshade acknowledges Marble with a knowing nod, slowing her pace so that she can feel the texture of the polished flooring beneath her cloven hooves. "I can understanding that perspective, but I find that the constant reiteration and reinterpretation of established classics is what contriutes to their longevity." She opens her mouth and licks her lips as she has a taste of the sweet, fresh woody air. Can there be anything more leisurely than this? "Ah, but my true leisure has to lie in music, sometimes in the listening, but more often than not in the production thereof. I consider myself a fairly accomplished violinist, though certainly not to the nuanced expertise of true professionals."
"I'm good friends with Octavia. Perhaps someday I should introduce you two." Marble says, fidgeting his hooves nervously. This is leisure? Oh dear. Marble's not good at this leisure stuff. "She happens to be a cellist. Moved to Canterlot from Manehattan recently."
"I would like that, yes," says Nightshade, a twinkle of satisfaction gleaming deviously in her deep purple eyes. "I have, sadly, not had the chance to truly appreciate Ms. Octavia's work. Perhaps, during her next concert?" She paces, with an ostentatious piaffe, up a gently sloping ramp to one of the higher levels, the leaves of the canopy bristling indignantly at her opulent gait. "Do you have any...hobbies, Marble? Some skill you like to improve?"
"I'm a bureaucrat. And gladly so." Marble says, as if this is something to brag about. He even rubs a hoof against his chest. "The faster I can file, the better. Yeah." Oh boy.
Nightshade's brow furrows as she starts to get a real handle on Marble's character. She had supposed that he was merely highstrung, and that his pompous obsession with detail was just a result of stress. "Did you...always want to be a bureaucrat?" she dares to ask.
Did Marble always want to be a bureaucrat? "Yes. Ever since I was a colt. While all the other pegasi in Cloudsdale were preoccupied with racing or sports or weather or something equally stupid, I saw a real thrill in organization! And filling out information!" Sorry you asked yet, Nightshade?
<OOC> You say, "Hmm...what kind of information would Nightshade know about Marble's ancestry?"
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "I dunno. I have hinted that an ancestor of his was a dissident. But I never throught much about ancestry. His immediate family has had some coverage."
Nightshade blinks and stares at Marble, unable to fully process what she's just heard. She had not been expecting much from him, perhaps a standard story of a young, privileged colt being prepared for officialdom by his parents, but she was scarce prepared for Marble to actually exceed her expectations. "Ah, well," she manages to utter, "I am...glad that you were able to seek to exercise your talent with such...determination." She glances pointedly at Marble's cutie mark. Very sorry she asked indeed! At least that means Marble's usefulness as a servant would never fade, but a servant, she surmises, is all he will remain. "What kind of management does a...musical artist such as Vinyl Scratch require? I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the career."
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Marble's parents are a fountain of expressed disappointment in Marble for not going into weather manufacturing. XD"
<OOC> You say, "Nightshade wanted to believe that Marble had normal childhood aspirations, but apparently he didnt X3"
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Marble was not a normal colt.
"
"Helping book events, like her concerts. Fan mail, probably her publicity. And of course, her paperwork." Marble says, his quill and parchmetn cutie mark showing exactly what he is like.
Nightshade nods idly, still trying to get over the revelations. Well, somepony has to be good at /that/ sort of work, right? "I am certain that you would find such work highly fruitful...more so than being Chancellor, anyway. That sort of job has much ceremony, yes, but little in the way of actual...organizing."
Marble fidgets, Why do ponies have to keep telling him this? He expects there's plenty of work for a bureaucrat in an elected position within government! "O... o-oh dear."
Nightshade peers at Marble curious. "Something wrong?"
"No... just... nono. I'll be *just fine.* I totally didn't ruin my career over nothing." Marble says worriedly.
Nightshade stands up erect, relaxation taking its leave from her for the moment. She looks at him with impatient inquisition. "...What did you do?"
"I resigned from my position! And for a position you tell me isn't even *like* me." Marble suddenly drops his plot to the ground as if stopping himself from passing out. "I ruined my career."
Nightshade frowns, wondering if Marble ever stopped thinking about work and its impact upon him and others. Work, in her view, is merely a means to other things. "I have written a suitable commendation of your past efforts in your last performance review," she says, "and if you ever need other work, I can always write a reference." Her borderline contempt for Marble is approaching something resembling pity.
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Sorry to do this, but I need to pause again, I'm falling asleep."
<OOC> You say, "It's all right. We'll continue later"
((We haven't XD But the RP as it is stands on its own I think))
Characters: Nightshade, Marble Memory
Setting: Nightshade attempts to discover if Marble ever relaxes like a normal pony.
Officially, Nightshade was on Royal business here in Owl City, inspecting the new construction projects, but in reality its mostly an excuse for her to escape the capital and have some fresh, forest air. She strides leisurely down a long hoofbridge, her official regalia glinting like gems amidst the loamy structures. The low-lying clouds shielded the sun but left enough sky showing to provide a pleasant background. The tranquility of the place was almost too much to justify any sort of work-related visit, and the shadow-hued unicorn finds her mind wandering towards the higher things in life.
So what brings Marble Memory, Unemployed Bureaucrat, to Owl City? He's a pegasus, he shoul djust be able to go right on up to Cloudsdale. The answer is very simple: Marble hates to fly. Really. So he's been looking into this new place he's heard about. Owl City. Fascinating!
Nightshade indulges in the pleasures of idleness, losing herself to flights of fancy, prancing down avenues of infinite possibilities. The shapes and colours of the town stretch ever upward in her minds eyes, the patterns and forms of earth and wood hinting of higher things, the Highest Things, a memory of perfection hidden in the kernel of the mind. Then she comes across Marble, and suddenly she hurtles down, down to the base and vulgar vicissitudes of actual sociability. "A felicitous meeting, this," she says politely, though really he was the last pony is wanted to meet right now.
<OOC> You say, "Her attitude can change, though, so don't worry about having a difficult time"
Marble doesn't have an opinion on the meeting now that she is no longer his boss. He wonders if she was the one who opened the resignation letter. Oh dear. "Hello, Nightshade. H-how are you?" Well, okay, maybe Marble is a touch uncomfortable.
Nightshade decides that she ought to make the best of it. "I am fine, good sir." She looks upon him with a distant, but penetrating, gaze. "I see that you are enjoying your...retirement quite nicely, Marble."
"Retirement? Enjoying? Neither. trying to get a new job. Perhaps you have heard I am running for Chancellor?" Marble says. He knows he could never enjoy retirement. He loves work too much. Or time with Vinyl. But he misses work!
Nightshade has heard many things about the Chancellorship race, and none of them has changed her dour opinion of the matter. If Marble was still in her employ she would have said something pointed but polite, but now... "I am not certain of the dignity of an office that permits Ms. Pie to run for it," she states baldly. "I am certain, though, that you have other plans to gain employment...right?"
"... Perhaps." Well, Vinyl asked him to be her manager. "A... certain pony may have asked for my deties in organization... to... aid her career?" He's playing coy, and badly, at that. "I'm hopinh to be a Chancellor with dignity and above all: Responsibility."
"The Chancellor of Ponyville's 'responsibilities' include cutting ribbons at royal events in town and maintaining the annual count of sheep flocks," Nightshade says. "Manager...you mean, Ms. Vinyl Scratch's manager for her musical career? That one would be an excellent job, I would think. Less pomp but more real utility."
Marble fidgets when Nightshade guesses correctly. "U... u-um... how did you figure that out?" Did he say it? He's been known to let things slip from time to time. But mostly he just wonders if he ever mentioned his relationship with her to Nightshade.
Nightshade peers at Marble as if he's been caught trying to hide a boil on his face. "Your relationship with Ms. Scratch is well known amongst the townsfolk," she says. "Besides, I have ways of finding out." Actually, she just asked one of the servants, but its best to maintain an aura of mystique surrounding her authority. "But, really, you should consider focusing on that endeavour above all. Ms. Pie will probably win anyway due to her much greater popularity."
Wow, a bureaucrat with connections. That certainly worries Marble more than it should. "O... o-oh dear. Um... s... s-so you know all there is to know about... us?" And then Nightshade weighs in with her piece. "Thanks."
"Don't give me too much credit," Nightshade says. Admittedly, she only managed to find that out by asking around thoroughly. "And you're welcome." She feels a breeze start to carry her thoughts away again. "I tired of talking about work. Shall we...walk together?"
"What brings you here to Owl City? Or... i-is that talking about work?" MArble asks. He doesn't want to put Nightshade in any worse sort of mood. His reasons are as simple as not liking the typical pegasi pastime.
"Work is the excuse, yes," says Nightshade, "but its actually a small bit of subterfuge on my part." She walks at a comfortably slow pace, admiring the architecture and the scenary, even the tacky-looking Umbrella Beach. "I have not been able to enjoy time apart from work in too long. Being able to gather your thoughts together is quite...excellent."
Marble is alongside, of course. He never willingly went on vacation before. "I see. So you decided to come and see Owl City for yourself, then?"
"Yes," says Nightshade. "I have been observing its development from my office, but I haven't visited until now. It is...delightful." She gazes around, letting the wondrous place take hold of her, take her someplace else. "It is times like this when I can truly contemplate the order and harmony of the universe."
"Too bad I'm not too fond of Cloudsdale." Marble says out of the blue, looking up at the cloud city above. Really, Marble, you're such a mood killer.
Nightshade gives Marble a weird look. "Marble...what do you like to do when you're idle?"
Dusk notes those in sight of the Everfree might see a yellow glow coming from within it. The smoke is probably not visible in the dark except what it obscures of the sky. (Public-pose)
"I'm not one who cares to be idle." Marble says, fidgeting nervously. "My old life was work, a few drinks, perhaps the opera or a ballet, then home for rest." Not much to go on for Marble.
"Opera or ballet counts as leisure," Nightshade says. "I myself am fairly fond of opera, particularly those that come from across the ocean. Tell me, Marble, have you ever seen 'The Farrier of Withersburg'?"
"I saw the opening night at the National Equestrian Theatre." Marble points out. "I spent quite a bit of money for a ticket, too. Worth every bit, of course. After a while performance becomes so much more... rehearsed and routine."
Nightshade acknowledges Marble with a knowing nod, slowing her pace so that she can feel the texture of the polished flooring beneath her cloven hooves. "I can understanding that perspective, but I find that the constant reiteration and reinterpretation of established classics is what contriutes to their longevity." She opens her mouth and licks her lips as she has a taste of the sweet, fresh woody air. Can there be anything more leisurely than this? "Ah, but my true leisure has to lie in music, sometimes in the listening, but more often than not in the production thereof. I consider myself a fairly accomplished violinist, though certainly not to the nuanced expertise of true professionals."
"I'm good friends with Octavia. Perhaps someday I should introduce you two." Marble says, fidgeting his hooves nervously. This is leisure? Oh dear. Marble's not good at this leisure stuff. "She happens to be a cellist. Moved to Canterlot from Manehattan recently."
"I would like that, yes," says Nightshade, a twinkle of satisfaction gleaming deviously in her deep purple eyes. "I have, sadly, not had the chance to truly appreciate Ms. Octavia's work. Perhaps, during her next concert?" She paces, with an ostentatious piaffe, up a gently sloping ramp to one of the higher levels, the leaves of the canopy bristling indignantly at her opulent gait. "Do you have any...hobbies, Marble? Some skill you like to improve?"
"I'm a bureaucrat. And gladly so." Marble says, as if this is something to brag about. He even rubs a hoof against his chest. "The faster I can file, the better. Yeah." Oh boy.
Nightshade's brow furrows as she starts to get a real handle on Marble's character. She had supposed that he was merely highstrung, and that his pompous obsession with detail was just a result of stress. "Did you...always want to be a bureaucrat?" she dares to ask.
Did Marble always want to be a bureaucrat? "Yes. Ever since I was a colt. While all the other pegasi in Cloudsdale were preoccupied with racing or sports or weather or something equally stupid, I saw a real thrill in organization! And filling out information!" Sorry you asked yet, Nightshade?
<OOC> You say, "Hmm...what kind of information would Nightshade know about Marble's ancestry?"
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "I dunno. I have hinted that an ancestor of his was a dissident. But I never throught much about ancestry. His immediate family has had some coverage."
Nightshade blinks and stares at Marble, unable to fully process what she's just heard. She had not been expecting much from him, perhaps a standard story of a young, privileged colt being prepared for officialdom by his parents, but she was scarce prepared for Marble to actually exceed her expectations. "Ah, well," she manages to utter, "I am...glad that you were able to seek to exercise your talent with such...determination." She glances pointedly at Marble's cutie mark. Very sorry she asked indeed! At least that means Marble's usefulness as a servant would never fade, but a servant, she surmises, is all he will remain. "What kind of management does a...musical artist such as Vinyl Scratch require? I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the career."
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Marble's parents are a fountain of expressed disappointment in Marble for not going into weather manufacturing. XD"
<OOC> You say, "Nightshade wanted to believe that Marble had normal childhood aspirations, but apparently he didnt X3"
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Marble was not a normal colt.
""Helping book events, like her concerts. Fan mail, probably her publicity. And of course, her paperwork." Marble says, his quill and parchmetn cutie mark showing exactly what he is like.
Nightshade nods idly, still trying to get over the revelations. Well, somepony has to be good at /that/ sort of work, right? "I am certain that you would find such work highly fruitful...more so than being Chancellor, anyway. That sort of job has much ceremony, yes, but little in the way of actual...organizing."
Marble fidgets, Why do ponies have to keep telling him this? He expects there's plenty of work for a bureaucrat in an elected position within government! "O... o-oh dear."
Nightshade peers at Marble curious. "Something wrong?"
"No... just... nono. I'll be *just fine.* I totally didn't ruin my career over nothing." Marble says worriedly.
Nightshade stands up erect, relaxation taking its leave from her for the moment. She looks at him with impatient inquisition. "...What did you do?"
"I resigned from my position! And for a position you tell me isn't even *like* me." Marble suddenly drops his plot to the ground as if stopping himself from passing out. "I ruined my career."
Nightshade frowns, wondering if Marble ever stopped thinking about work and its impact upon him and others. Work, in her view, is merely a means to other things. "I have written a suitable commendation of your past efforts in your last performance review," she says, "and if you ever need other work, I can always write a reference." Her borderline contempt for Marble is approaching something resembling pity.
<OOC> Marble_Memory says, "Sorry to do this, but I need to pause again, I'm falling asleep."
<OOC> You say, "It's all right. We'll continue later"
((We haven't XD But the RP as it is stands on its own I think))