Post by Applejack on Oct 4, 2013 1:16:49 GMT -5
Having somehow let her prevail upon him to let her be in his next oeuvre, Bardigan finds himself in the position of trying to teach Applejack the proper Thespian manner of speech...
The Lunarium
A pony picks her way through the Everfree gloom, made even gloomier by the dimming dusk light overhead. Down here, the light is only just barely enough to see by to walk and (*WHACK* "OW! CONSARN IT!") knock one's head on a branch by. The curse that sends a small group of birsds winging away through the foliage quickly identifies the lone pony: it is Applejack, muttering up a storm of dire imprecations as she finally reaches the partly restored Palace of the Moon. She shivers briefly, remembering the first time she was here, then tugs her hat down, steps into the Lunarium, and makes her presence known with typical restraint and aplomb. "BARDIGAN! HAY, ARE Y'IN HERE? BARDIGAN!! What the hay's th' idea of askin' ta meet way out HERE? This place ain't even SAFE yet, is it? HAY!" She whistles loudly and looks around.
There's a gentle rustling from within the Lunarium, but it's hard to say from where given most of it is rustling at any given time. A few seconds after the last echoes of Applejack's caterwauling fades, a wraith appears to her from out of the woodsy undergrowth, hooded and cloaked, bearing a small lantern that is only barely lit. A hoof lifts to where the tip of a snout is barely illuminated. From across the distance comes a noise. "Shhh. Just because the night is alive doesn't mean it's *good*... to *disturb* it." The hoof lifts a little farther and slides the hood down, revealing Bardigan, wearing a patient smile. "I'm glad you've come, Applejack."
Applejack peers at the apparition as it turns into Bardigan and quiets down considerably, to only twice as loud as Fluttershy can shout. "All righty. Gotta say, that was th' fanciest dang invitation Ah ever did see didn't come outta th' Palace at Canterlot!" She stares for a moment at the floating seed, first in wonder and then with a professional eye, then shakes her head. "So, uh, why in Equestria did ya wanna see me way th' hay out here in th' woods? Ah'm lookin' forward ta hearin' 'bout yer play, but... this place is creepier than a night terror at noontime!"
"Hmm? Here?" Bardigan glances around, at the creepy crawly things lurking in the trees, or the slithering shadows inhabiting near every crevice. "Please. I have worse things living in my bathroom." He smirks and turns away to lead her deeper in, pauses, and looks over his shoulder. "Seriously. Now, come on! Just follow me. It's not dangerous at all if you watch your step. And don't bump into any garthim - they don't like being bumped, even if all they do is tend the garden nowadays. And as for why we're here, the plain answer is I was telling them stories!" He gestures up at the branches, leaving it vague as to who 'they' are.
Applejack nod-frowns. "Yeah, here. Why here." ... "Reckon a little vinegar an' soda should clear that right, uh, up. Uh. That or may some kinda, uh, nasty, uh..." She pauses again and looks around. Garthim. That's... giant magic bug things, isn't it? She shudders. AJ's not squeamish, but there somes a point where even natural just ain't natural no more. "Uh - Bardigan? BARDIGAN! Wait fer me!" She darts after him, staggering a bit when she trips on a root. The last thing an observer in the outer chamber would hear as she disappears after the playwright is a muttered curse: "why in tarnation didn't ah think ta bring a lantern..."
The door, of course, closes shut of its own accord. Bardigan moves further into the Lunarium as calmly as if this were a summer day. He walks over the roots as if he's memorized their locations - perhaps he really has? If the smile playing over his lips is any indication, he's taking this little sojourn purely to amuse himself with Applejack's clumsiness. "So, you wanted to be in my next play," he says conversationally as they walk. "That's all well and good. You'll be glad to know I have accepted you into my thespian cadre fully and without reservation! As of right now, Applejack, you are an actor on the way to greatness."
Applejack brightens immediately! "That's great!" But she bobs and weaves as best she can, trying to avoid the things lurking in the darkness. Like the vine that knocks her hat off. "- Tarnation!" She stops for a moment to pick it up again, then trots along after the playwright, quicker and quicker with newfoud interest! "Ah'm real dang glad ta hear that! What're we doin? Ooh, is it th' Trottish play we ain't s'posed ta say th' name of? Heh! Did ya do th' castin' yet? Ooh! What stage're we gonna be on? Ponyville? Canterlot? MANEHATTAN? Hay, when do we get th' scripts? Ah gotta- WHOA NELLY!" An inconvenient root, invisible in the dimness, cuts off the stream of questions by tripping AJ and dropping her head-over-tail upside-down in front of Bardigan, winded. "OOF! ...h... ah... gotta know... what ah'm s'posed ta do. Ow."
Bardigan's head lowers down to Applejack's level, their noses lined up with one another's. His face glows from the light of the lantern, grossly incandescent next to the soft darkness of the Lunarium. "You, my dear Applejack, are going to sing. And I'm sorry to say 'tarnation' is going to have to leave your vocabulary for the time being." He tilts his head. "Tell me. How much do you know about... opera?"
Applejack blinks up at the illuminated thespian. "Uh. Not, uh, too much, ta be honest. 'Scuse me." She squirms away slightly, then climbs back to her hooves and finally re-hats herself. "Sorta... singin' theater, ain't it? Ah don't mind singin'. Hay, why in tarnation should Ah stop sayin' 'tarnation'? Ah been doin' it since Ah was tiny. Learned it from... mah parents. Granny says it, says HER parents did too!" She hasn't managed to catch on that it wasn't exactly that particular word Bardigan was referring to. "An' what's any o' that got ta do with bein' HERE?"
"Why, here is one of the best places to be!" Bardigan says grandly, throwing out a hoof. "Look at it. Doesn't it just *inspire* you?" A creepy thing scuttles overhead in the trees, whilst a few fireflies buzz by. There's probably a snake - or something like a snake - in there too. "It's quiet, it's out of the way, and best of all..." He turns to Applejack with a cheeky smirk. "Nopony's around to hear you mess up. Except perhaps Princess Luna? But I don't think she'll mind an Element of Harmony practicing here."
"Oh yeah. Absolutely. Inspires me ta go get mah pitchfork, some torches, an' maybe a cotton-pickin' THRESHER! This here's Nightmare Moon's place, it's where she began an' ended, an' th' only things Ah'm gettin outta here are th' heebies an' th' jeebies!" ... wait, what? "Whaddaya mean 'mess up'? Consarn it, what're ya gettin' at here? We gonna practice yer songs or somethin'?" says Applejack.
Bardigan sighs. "Applejack, please calm down. This will go much more smoothly if we're both on the same artistic level. We are here to practice, yes, if that answer will satisfy you." He leads her on, and they come to a small clearing bearing one of those floating-seed flowers, and a few other luminescent plants besides. Or perhaps there's just that many fireflies about tonight. "It is here we will begin."
Applejack says, "Calm down? Ah ain't un-calm! What're y'all goin' on about? This here's just gettin' downright confusin'. Artistic level? Uh... there some kinda magic mumbo-jumbo in here suddenly gonna give me th' same level o' stagecraftin' experience as y'all??" She looks around. No, no *obvious* playweed or extract of thespian. Whatever they are. "We're gonna begin? 'Bout time! Great?" A pause. "WHAT, exactly, are we beginnin'?"
Bardigan struggles with his hoof. He seems to be trying not to smack it into his face. When he turns around, he's all smiles. "The hay from the bay will make a fine bouquet!" he says, without any context whatsoever. "Yes. That is where we will start. You see, Applejack, there is a certain... way of speaking that must be followed in opera. Tonality. Expressivity. Power. The sounds must follow certain forms. Forms that must be cultivated. Practiced. Forms that you, er..." He rolls a hoof, searching for the most diplomatic way of putting this. "Don't seem familiar with."
Applejack raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Expressivitatin' an' power ah got COVERED. What was that ya said?" She draws a huge deep breath and actually causes a few pebbles and bits of dust to rain from the ancient masonry! "TH' HAY FROM TH' BAY'LL MAKE A FIIINE BUCK-KAY!!" Royal Canterlot Voice, meet Hayseed Ponyville Voice. Ouch. "See? Heck, Ah coulda done THAT fer ya back in th' Owl City! No sweat!"
Bardigan's face is... inscrutable. "Applejack," he says, raising his hooves for quiet, "let's just... let's just start from the beginning. Opera is not about being *loud.* It is about projecting your voice. Displaying control while conveying your passion, it- it-... how about this. Instead of showing me how loud you are... first, show me that you can listen. To me. In silence."
Applejack blinks. "What? Ah... sure, allrighty..." She sits down and stares at Bardigan, listening, eyes wide and shimmering in the strange wavering light. She gets bored after a few seconds and starts to stare at something on the grou- NO! No. Bardigan. Listen. To. Bardigan. Right.
Bardigan ahems and assumes a straight-backed posture, as if he is constantly posing for a photo op. He keeps his wings tucked at his sides. "Now then. When it comes to being a refined theater presence, one must learn precision, control, and dignity. We'll start at the bottom. Stand just like me. Back straight. Chin slightly down - this will improve singing power without any strain. Now, repeat after me: A, E, I, O, U. Try not to move your jaw too much."
Applejack blinks, then tries her best. She poses like Bardigan, though it takes a couple of tries for her to get her chin "slightly down" instead of "staring at the moss". "Uh. Allrighty. Let's see." And che clenches her teeth together, making SURE she doesn't move her jaw. "Awe, Eee, Aye, Owe, You.... like that, ya mean? Why'd we gotta keep our teeth still-like?"
Bardigan takes a deep breath. "Because it helps us maintain a proper mouth posture. We don't want our teeth getting in the way." Beat. "Meaning open your mouth a little bit."
Applejack ahh. "Yike yith?"
Applejack is of course now holding her mouth rigidly open about a third of the way,
Bardigan's wing twitches, which is a slight improvement from his eye. "No, no... watch *me.*" He takes up position right next to Applejack, encouraging her to shadow him, and repeats the vowels once again. "And sound them out! Enunciation is *everything.* Now try your best to say it just. Like. I did."
Applejack ahhhhs! Comprehension dawns! "Ya want me ta talk fancy like y'all do! Sorta like Rares! Well now how come ya didn't say so! ya gave me alla that nonsense 'bout 'power' an' 'toenail-ity' an' all ya meant was 'high-falutin'!" She clears her throat and says, clearly, precisely, and with possibly the thickest drawl you've heard yet, "Aaayy, Eeeee, Aaaaye, Oohhhh, Youuuuu!"
Bardigan stares utterly slack-jawed.
Applejack misinterprets this as an instruction to try again, slack-jawed. "Aaaayh, Eeeehh, Aaayeh, Ohhhh, Yooouhh?"
Bardigan blinks several times. He shuts his mouth, and opens it again, and blinks several *more* times. "Miss Applejack... how long ago did you say you took that trip to Manehattan?"
Applejack thinks for a moment. "Aw, hell's bells, prob'ly ten years or so? Ah was still a filly." She looks thoughtful for a moment, and pokes the ground a bit. "Ah ain't, uh, talked fancy since then. Ah dunno, it woulda felt like betrayin' mah family, ya know? Somethin' like that." A pause. She looks away. "Still kinda does, ta be honest."
Bardigan reaches over and puts a hoof under AJ's chin, pulling her back to face him. "Applejack. Is this or is this not one of your dreams?"
"One of those dreams you have had in your head *since* you were that little filly? One of those dreams you have been so anxious lately to see if you could achieve?"
Applejack hesitates. "Ah... well, it WAS, fer sure, but..." She stares into Bardigan's eyes, a place where many fillies have gotten lost before (albeit not half as many as he tells it), and sees there something most ponies don't: herself, lit by the strange eldritch light in this place. "Yeah. Yeah, it IS. An' Ah can't imagine Mac or Granny would get too bent outta shape. They... they know mah family's th' most important thing in mah life." She smiles. "That ain't gonna change no matter WHAT else Ah'm doin'. Yeah, this here's mah dream. Let's get 'er done!"
Bardigan nods happily. "That's my girl! It is more a betrayal of your family to *not* follow the dreams they raised you to seize! Now, then. I can see that you forgot many of the lessons you received in Manehattan. Fortunately, I came prepared." He reaches into his saddlebags and pulls out a little book titled, "Fancy Phrases and Elegant Utterances: Volume 1." The playwright squee-grins, suggesting he might be spending time with Fluttershy on the side. "*This* is one of the greatest guides to speaking fancy that bits can buy! Sure to even help one with an accent as entrenched as yours. See? Money-back guarantee, right there on the cover."
Applejack nods and gives Bardigan the patented Applejack ear-to-ear grin! (It's like Pinkie's, but less literal.) "Yeah, it's, uh, been a while... well shuck mah tail an' call me Colonel! Ah used ta have a copy o' this! Aunt Orange gave it ta me - reckon Ah musta left it at their place when Ah came back ta Sweet Apple Acres!" She carefully takes the book from Bardigan in her teeth and drops it by the lantern, then opens it and turns a few pages. "Don't that just beat all. 'Course, Ah remember somethin' mah uncle said, too. Got mah, uh... vowels rotated. Like Ah say Ah like most ponies hereabouts say 'A', sorta. He used ta tell me Ah needed a 'vowel movement'." She snorts a laugh. "Ah just got that."
Bardigan rolls his eyes. "Yes, aristrocrats are very fond of their wordplay. You will find no such vulgarity here! So..." He plops down next to Applejack and flips a few pages. "Ah ha! Here. Just the phrase we were using before. You can read out the words as you see them. Phonetics are magic! Now, shall we try again? The hay from the bay will make a fine bouquet!"
Applejack squints at the strangely-written phrase. "Allrighty. Ahem. 'Th' hay from th' bay will make a fahne bookay'." Not so drawly, and that is TECHNCIALLY how one pronounced 'bouquet', yes... "'Th' hay from the! bay will make a fahne... fIne bookay.' Uh... 'The hay from th' bay will make a fine... bouquet?'" she pauses and looks quizzically at Bardigan. Was that... good?
Bardigan clops his front hooves on the ground happily, quivering with excitement. "Applejack, that was *amazing!* Quantifiable improvement after just an hour of tutelage! Oh, you'll be blending in with the jet-set in no time! Now, the hard part. When you're done here, take this book home. Practice every phrase inside. I'll meet with you as often as I can and we'll practice. Oh! You'll probably need some supplementary materials, flash cards, I have some old records... we're going to *bury* you in prim and proper dialect, my good mare!"
Applejack emits a low whistle. "Boy howdy. Lotta goldarned work, ain't it? 'Course, that never stopped me none. Reckon Mac won't mind too much if'n Ah borrow his player. Dang, alla this just ta sound like Rares? Yer gonna have me goin' all like 'Oh DARLING you look WONDERFUL' an' Ah'm gonna have ta just keep mah dad-blamed mouth SHUT at home!" She chuckles. And that was... an unexpectedly good impression of Rarity just then... "Say, y'all never did tell me, what's yer play gonna be about? Other'n singin' an' talkin' fancy, what do ya got in mind fer me ta do?"
Bardigan's chortling and self-congrtulation abruptly ceases. He stares at Applejack, seemingly stupefied by his wide-eyed expression and the way his neck leans back just a bit. Did she just...? "It's... about the Princesses," he murmurs. "When Luna fell from her throne and became the dread Nightmare Moon."
Applejack says, "Ooh, Ah LOVE that story! What do ya got in mind fer me? Background chorus? Maybe one o' Celestia's guards? Ah can do that! Ah'll be all, 'Excuseth me, good sir' an' suchlike! Ah'm already more excited than a diamond dog in a dragon hoard!"
"Casting is still ongoing," Bardigan says, "but whatever role you get, I'm sure you'll perform wonderfully. *If* you follow my instructions."
Applejack grins, then stands up and salutes. "You betcher precious patootie Ah will! Uh, Ah mean, uh... 'Rest assured, darlin'!'" Well, that was ALMOST like Rarity. Kinda. "Did ya want me ta do somethin' else now or should Ah just take this home an' get crackin'?"
Bardigan holds up a hoof. "Well, hold on there, Applejack. It's not just speaking. It's singing. A lot of singing. Volume you can do. Now we see how far you can push your limits, and how much *range* you have."
Applejack nods. "Sure thing! Lessee, we had us a pretty good hoedown at th' last reunion, y'ever hear this?" And she launches into it! o/` Raise this barn, raise this barn / One two three four! / Together we can raise this barn / One two three four! / ... o/`
Bardigan bobs his head, tapping his hooves to the ground along with the beat. He is quiet, allowing Applejack to go through the entirety of the song if she so chooses.
Applejack does! She's not one for changing direction mid-course! o/` ... part of the Apple Faaaaaamiiiilyyyyy!! o/` She waits a moment for Bardigan's reaction.
Bardigan sits on his tummy, hooves stretched in front and behind like a cat as Applejack goes through the whole performance. When she is done, he clops politely on the dirt floor. "Excellent! Excellent. Your voice is a marvel, miss Applejack!" His smile immediately drops from his face. "Now show me how high you can go."
Applejack considers. "High? Ah... ain't too sure 'bout high. Always had me a kinda low voice. Folk used ta tease me, callin' it 'sultry' or 'stallion', dependin' on what they wanted from me at th' time. But... there is another song Ah really like, it's a mite higher'n that'n... here, why don't ya tell me what ya think..." She closes her eyes for a moment and sways back and forth before reaching the words. o/` Why are there so many / Songs about rainbows / An' what's on th' other side? / Rainbows are visions, but only illusions / An' rainbows have nothin' to hide... o/` www.youtube.com/watch?v=CN-d73yzsrY (this version is almost exactly what Bardigan hears)
Applejack sings, o/` So we've been told, an' some choose to believe it / Ah know they're wrong, wait an' see... / Someday we'll find it, th' Rainbow Connection / Th' fliers, th' wizards, an' me... o/`
Applejack eventually sings the whole thing. The high endoing note is about as high as she can go and remain comfortably musical.
Bardigan's eyes are closed, his ears standing high and quivering. He seems to be listening for something else even as Applejack's voice fades. His wings are half-extended, and the tips of them shiver.
Applejack smiles. "Was, uh... was that good then? Ah don't often sing that one, but it's kinda been one o' mah favorites fer a long time. There ain't a lotta songs 'bout th' sky fer Earth ponies, ya know?"
Bardigan's eyes flutter open as demurely as a butterfly's wings. "That was beautiful, AJ," he says. "If you have a singing voice like *that*... well, all that needs doing is to train your voice to *project* and *perfect*, and we're golden. You'll be dazzling ponies on and off stage left and right!"
Applejack blushes hard and tugs her hat down, but form somewhere bhind it comes: "Y... ya really think so? Ah don't think projectin' is gonna be too much of a problem, Granny says she can hear me two fields away... aheh heh." She straightnes her hat and looks at Bardigan. Her expression, though pink-cheeked, is without a doubt... hope.
Bardigan's smile is steady, his gaze unblinking. "You're such a humble mare, Applejack," he remarks, as if this is something unique in all the actresses he's taken under his wing. "I think I shall very much enjoy working with you."
Applejack chuckles. "Ah ain't that humble. Ah'm still th' best athlete in Ponyville if'n Rainbow ain't cheatin'." She winks. "Look, if'n Ah don't remember ta tell ya later... thanks, Bardigan. Ah know yer goin' out on a limb here even thinkin' 'bout includin' some... well, me."
Bardigan stands up. He trots over to Applejack and extends not a wing, but a hoof, and puts it on her shoulder. "The very best ponies for a job are often the ones who never think they would be," he intones. "Have some faith in yourself, my dear. And if you don't, worry not. I have plenty for the both of us."
Applejack re-blushes. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks. Ah can take this here book, right? Ah'm gonna see if'n Ah can get in a bit o' practice. Heh. Applebuck season starts on mah bir- uh, tomorrow. Mah mouth usually ain't got much ta do, so, maybe Ah can learn a bit? Say... How come ponies in plays talk like Rares anyhow? Ain't y'all ever got nothin' set on a farm, or just somewhere that ain't fancy-like?"
Bardigan chuckles deep in his throat, as if this is a private joke he's shared in many times. "The truth is, many of the performances I've put on stage did in fact come from rural sources far removed from Canterlot. But there's a certain... atmosphere that must be pandered to. An unfortunate truth of high society is that things are the way they are simply because that's how they're expected to be, and that goes for plays and musicals."
Applejack nods knowingly. "Tradition, kinda thing. Ah gotcha. Reckon Ah'dbetter be gettin' on home now, though." She picks up the book and balances it on her back, then looks around at the strange plants and the dimness. "Uh... don't s'pose y'all can bring along that there lantern? This place is plumb strange."
Bardigan lets out another throaty chuckle and actually *sidles* up to Applejack, holding the lantern before him. "Not feeling so much a part of the Night? Don't worry... you will." He waggles his eyebrows. "Stay close to me my dear, it's a frightfully long walk to the edge of the woods..."
Bardigan holds out a hoof.
Applejack has totally missed that hint. "What? Naw, Ah'm more of a day kinda pony. Sunlight fer th' trees, trees fer th' apples, apples fer th' ponies, ya know?" She trots along with Bardigan as the two ponies pick their way out of the Lunarium's shimmering darkness, out of the ancient castle, and out into the wilds of the Everfree. Night has fallen now, and other than the eerie glow of a few exotic plants and mushrooms, the only light to be seen is the cheerful yellow of the lantern as it bobs and weaves its way back towards Ponyville. Soon the old palace is once again alone, filled with the peaceful silence of the Night.
The Lunarium
A pony picks her way through the Everfree gloom, made even gloomier by the dimming dusk light overhead. Down here, the light is only just barely enough to see by to walk and (*WHACK* "OW! CONSARN IT!") knock one's head on a branch by. The curse that sends a small group of birsds winging away through the foliage quickly identifies the lone pony: it is Applejack, muttering up a storm of dire imprecations as she finally reaches the partly restored Palace of the Moon. She shivers briefly, remembering the first time she was here, then tugs her hat down, steps into the Lunarium, and makes her presence known with typical restraint and aplomb. "BARDIGAN! HAY, ARE Y'IN HERE? BARDIGAN!! What the hay's th' idea of askin' ta meet way out HERE? This place ain't even SAFE yet, is it? HAY!" She whistles loudly and looks around.
There's a gentle rustling from within the Lunarium, but it's hard to say from where given most of it is rustling at any given time. A few seconds after the last echoes of Applejack's caterwauling fades, a wraith appears to her from out of the woodsy undergrowth, hooded and cloaked, bearing a small lantern that is only barely lit. A hoof lifts to where the tip of a snout is barely illuminated. From across the distance comes a noise. "Shhh. Just because the night is alive doesn't mean it's *good*... to *disturb* it." The hoof lifts a little farther and slides the hood down, revealing Bardigan, wearing a patient smile. "I'm glad you've come, Applejack."
Applejack peers at the apparition as it turns into Bardigan and quiets down considerably, to only twice as loud as Fluttershy can shout. "All righty. Gotta say, that was th' fanciest dang invitation Ah ever did see didn't come outta th' Palace at Canterlot!" She stares for a moment at the floating seed, first in wonder and then with a professional eye, then shakes her head. "So, uh, why in Equestria did ya wanna see me way th' hay out here in th' woods? Ah'm lookin' forward ta hearin' 'bout yer play, but... this place is creepier than a night terror at noontime!"
"Hmm? Here?" Bardigan glances around, at the creepy crawly things lurking in the trees, or the slithering shadows inhabiting near every crevice. "Please. I have worse things living in my bathroom." He smirks and turns away to lead her deeper in, pauses, and looks over his shoulder. "Seriously. Now, come on! Just follow me. It's not dangerous at all if you watch your step. And don't bump into any garthim - they don't like being bumped, even if all they do is tend the garden nowadays. And as for why we're here, the plain answer is I was telling them stories!" He gestures up at the branches, leaving it vague as to who 'they' are.
Applejack nod-frowns. "Yeah, here. Why here." ... "Reckon a little vinegar an' soda should clear that right, uh, up. Uh. That or may some kinda, uh, nasty, uh..." She pauses again and looks around. Garthim. That's... giant magic bug things, isn't it? She shudders. AJ's not squeamish, but there somes a point where even natural just ain't natural no more. "Uh - Bardigan? BARDIGAN! Wait fer me!" She darts after him, staggering a bit when she trips on a root. The last thing an observer in the outer chamber would hear as she disappears after the playwright is a muttered curse: "why in tarnation didn't ah think ta bring a lantern..."
The door, of course, closes shut of its own accord. Bardigan moves further into the Lunarium as calmly as if this were a summer day. He walks over the roots as if he's memorized their locations - perhaps he really has? If the smile playing over his lips is any indication, he's taking this little sojourn purely to amuse himself with Applejack's clumsiness. "So, you wanted to be in my next play," he says conversationally as they walk. "That's all well and good. You'll be glad to know I have accepted you into my thespian cadre fully and without reservation! As of right now, Applejack, you are an actor on the way to greatness."
Applejack brightens immediately! "That's great!" But she bobs and weaves as best she can, trying to avoid the things lurking in the darkness. Like the vine that knocks her hat off. "- Tarnation!" She stops for a moment to pick it up again, then trots along after the playwright, quicker and quicker with newfoud interest! "Ah'm real dang glad ta hear that! What're we doin? Ooh, is it th' Trottish play we ain't s'posed ta say th' name of? Heh! Did ya do th' castin' yet? Ooh! What stage're we gonna be on? Ponyville? Canterlot? MANEHATTAN? Hay, when do we get th' scripts? Ah gotta- WHOA NELLY!" An inconvenient root, invisible in the dimness, cuts off the stream of questions by tripping AJ and dropping her head-over-tail upside-down in front of Bardigan, winded. "OOF! ...h... ah... gotta know... what ah'm s'posed ta do. Ow."
Bardigan's head lowers down to Applejack's level, their noses lined up with one another's. His face glows from the light of the lantern, grossly incandescent next to the soft darkness of the Lunarium. "You, my dear Applejack, are going to sing. And I'm sorry to say 'tarnation' is going to have to leave your vocabulary for the time being." He tilts his head. "Tell me. How much do you know about... opera?"
Applejack blinks up at the illuminated thespian. "Uh. Not, uh, too much, ta be honest. 'Scuse me." She squirms away slightly, then climbs back to her hooves and finally re-hats herself. "Sorta... singin' theater, ain't it? Ah don't mind singin'. Hay, why in tarnation should Ah stop sayin' 'tarnation'? Ah been doin' it since Ah was tiny. Learned it from... mah parents. Granny says it, says HER parents did too!" She hasn't managed to catch on that it wasn't exactly that particular word Bardigan was referring to. "An' what's any o' that got ta do with bein' HERE?"
"Why, here is one of the best places to be!" Bardigan says grandly, throwing out a hoof. "Look at it. Doesn't it just *inspire* you?" A creepy thing scuttles overhead in the trees, whilst a few fireflies buzz by. There's probably a snake - or something like a snake - in there too. "It's quiet, it's out of the way, and best of all..." He turns to Applejack with a cheeky smirk. "Nopony's around to hear you mess up. Except perhaps Princess Luna? But I don't think she'll mind an Element of Harmony practicing here."
"Oh yeah. Absolutely. Inspires me ta go get mah pitchfork, some torches, an' maybe a cotton-pickin' THRESHER! This here's Nightmare Moon's place, it's where she began an' ended, an' th' only things Ah'm gettin outta here are th' heebies an' th' jeebies!" ... wait, what? "Whaddaya mean 'mess up'? Consarn it, what're ya gettin' at here? We gonna practice yer songs or somethin'?" says Applejack.
Bardigan sighs. "Applejack, please calm down. This will go much more smoothly if we're both on the same artistic level. We are here to practice, yes, if that answer will satisfy you." He leads her on, and they come to a small clearing bearing one of those floating-seed flowers, and a few other luminescent plants besides. Or perhaps there's just that many fireflies about tonight. "It is here we will begin."
Applejack says, "Calm down? Ah ain't un-calm! What're y'all goin' on about? This here's just gettin' downright confusin'. Artistic level? Uh... there some kinda magic mumbo-jumbo in here suddenly gonna give me th' same level o' stagecraftin' experience as y'all??" She looks around. No, no *obvious* playweed or extract of thespian. Whatever they are. "We're gonna begin? 'Bout time! Great?" A pause. "WHAT, exactly, are we beginnin'?"
Bardigan struggles with his hoof. He seems to be trying not to smack it into his face. When he turns around, he's all smiles. "The hay from the bay will make a fine bouquet!" he says, without any context whatsoever. "Yes. That is where we will start. You see, Applejack, there is a certain... way of speaking that must be followed in opera. Tonality. Expressivity. Power. The sounds must follow certain forms. Forms that must be cultivated. Practiced. Forms that you, er..." He rolls a hoof, searching for the most diplomatic way of putting this. "Don't seem familiar with."
Applejack raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Expressivitatin' an' power ah got COVERED. What was that ya said?" She draws a huge deep breath and actually causes a few pebbles and bits of dust to rain from the ancient masonry! "TH' HAY FROM TH' BAY'LL MAKE A FIIINE BUCK-KAY!!" Royal Canterlot Voice, meet Hayseed Ponyville Voice. Ouch. "See? Heck, Ah coulda done THAT fer ya back in th' Owl City! No sweat!"
Bardigan's face is... inscrutable. "Applejack," he says, raising his hooves for quiet, "let's just... let's just start from the beginning. Opera is not about being *loud.* It is about projecting your voice. Displaying control while conveying your passion, it- it-... how about this. Instead of showing me how loud you are... first, show me that you can listen. To me. In silence."
Applejack blinks. "What? Ah... sure, allrighty..." She sits down and stares at Bardigan, listening, eyes wide and shimmering in the strange wavering light. She gets bored after a few seconds and starts to stare at something on the grou- NO! No. Bardigan. Listen. To. Bardigan. Right.
Bardigan ahems and assumes a straight-backed posture, as if he is constantly posing for a photo op. He keeps his wings tucked at his sides. "Now then. When it comes to being a refined theater presence, one must learn precision, control, and dignity. We'll start at the bottom. Stand just like me. Back straight. Chin slightly down - this will improve singing power without any strain. Now, repeat after me: A, E, I, O, U. Try not to move your jaw too much."
Applejack blinks, then tries her best. She poses like Bardigan, though it takes a couple of tries for her to get her chin "slightly down" instead of "staring at the moss". "Uh. Allrighty. Let's see." And che clenches her teeth together, making SURE she doesn't move her jaw. "Awe, Eee, Aye, Owe, You.... like that, ya mean? Why'd we gotta keep our teeth still-like?"
Bardigan takes a deep breath. "Because it helps us maintain a proper mouth posture. We don't want our teeth getting in the way." Beat. "Meaning open your mouth a little bit."
Applejack ahh. "Yike yith?"
Applejack is of course now holding her mouth rigidly open about a third of the way,
Bardigan's wing twitches, which is a slight improvement from his eye. "No, no... watch *me.*" He takes up position right next to Applejack, encouraging her to shadow him, and repeats the vowels once again. "And sound them out! Enunciation is *everything.* Now try your best to say it just. Like. I did."
Applejack ahhhhs! Comprehension dawns! "Ya want me ta talk fancy like y'all do! Sorta like Rares! Well now how come ya didn't say so! ya gave me alla that nonsense 'bout 'power' an' 'toenail-ity' an' all ya meant was 'high-falutin'!" She clears her throat and says, clearly, precisely, and with possibly the thickest drawl you've heard yet, "Aaayy, Eeeee, Aaaaye, Oohhhh, Youuuuu!"
Bardigan stares utterly slack-jawed.
Applejack misinterprets this as an instruction to try again, slack-jawed. "Aaaayh, Eeeehh, Aaayeh, Ohhhh, Yooouhh?"
Bardigan blinks several times. He shuts his mouth, and opens it again, and blinks several *more* times. "Miss Applejack... how long ago did you say you took that trip to Manehattan?"
Applejack thinks for a moment. "Aw, hell's bells, prob'ly ten years or so? Ah was still a filly." She looks thoughtful for a moment, and pokes the ground a bit. "Ah ain't, uh, talked fancy since then. Ah dunno, it woulda felt like betrayin' mah family, ya know? Somethin' like that." A pause. She looks away. "Still kinda does, ta be honest."
Bardigan reaches over and puts a hoof under AJ's chin, pulling her back to face him. "Applejack. Is this or is this not one of your dreams?"
"One of those dreams you have had in your head *since* you were that little filly? One of those dreams you have been so anxious lately to see if you could achieve?"
Applejack hesitates. "Ah... well, it WAS, fer sure, but..." She stares into Bardigan's eyes, a place where many fillies have gotten lost before (albeit not half as many as he tells it), and sees there something most ponies don't: herself, lit by the strange eldritch light in this place. "Yeah. Yeah, it IS. An' Ah can't imagine Mac or Granny would get too bent outta shape. They... they know mah family's th' most important thing in mah life." She smiles. "That ain't gonna change no matter WHAT else Ah'm doin'. Yeah, this here's mah dream. Let's get 'er done!"
Bardigan nods happily. "That's my girl! It is more a betrayal of your family to *not* follow the dreams they raised you to seize! Now, then. I can see that you forgot many of the lessons you received in Manehattan. Fortunately, I came prepared." He reaches into his saddlebags and pulls out a little book titled, "Fancy Phrases and Elegant Utterances: Volume 1." The playwright squee-grins, suggesting he might be spending time with Fluttershy on the side. "*This* is one of the greatest guides to speaking fancy that bits can buy! Sure to even help one with an accent as entrenched as yours. See? Money-back guarantee, right there on the cover."
Applejack nods and gives Bardigan the patented Applejack ear-to-ear grin! (It's like Pinkie's, but less literal.) "Yeah, it's, uh, been a while... well shuck mah tail an' call me Colonel! Ah used ta have a copy o' this! Aunt Orange gave it ta me - reckon Ah musta left it at their place when Ah came back ta Sweet Apple Acres!" She carefully takes the book from Bardigan in her teeth and drops it by the lantern, then opens it and turns a few pages. "Don't that just beat all. 'Course, Ah remember somethin' mah uncle said, too. Got mah, uh... vowels rotated. Like Ah say Ah like most ponies hereabouts say 'A', sorta. He used ta tell me Ah needed a 'vowel movement'." She snorts a laugh. "Ah just got that."
Bardigan rolls his eyes. "Yes, aristrocrats are very fond of their wordplay. You will find no such vulgarity here! So..." He plops down next to Applejack and flips a few pages. "Ah ha! Here. Just the phrase we were using before. You can read out the words as you see them. Phonetics are magic! Now, shall we try again? The hay from the bay will make a fine bouquet!"
Applejack squints at the strangely-written phrase. "Allrighty. Ahem. 'Th' hay from th' bay will make a fahne bookay'." Not so drawly, and that is TECHNCIALLY how one pronounced 'bouquet', yes... "'Th' hay from the! bay will make a fahne... fIne bookay.' Uh... 'The hay from th' bay will make a fine... bouquet?'" she pauses and looks quizzically at Bardigan. Was that... good?
Bardigan clops his front hooves on the ground happily, quivering with excitement. "Applejack, that was *amazing!* Quantifiable improvement after just an hour of tutelage! Oh, you'll be blending in with the jet-set in no time! Now, the hard part. When you're done here, take this book home. Practice every phrase inside. I'll meet with you as often as I can and we'll practice. Oh! You'll probably need some supplementary materials, flash cards, I have some old records... we're going to *bury* you in prim and proper dialect, my good mare!"
Applejack emits a low whistle. "Boy howdy. Lotta goldarned work, ain't it? 'Course, that never stopped me none. Reckon Mac won't mind too much if'n Ah borrow his player. Dang, alla this just ta sound like Rares? Yer gonna have me goin' all like 'Oh DARLING you look WONDERFUL' an' Ah'm gonna have ta just keep mah dad-blamed mouth SHUT at home!" She chuckles. And that was... an unexpectedly good impression of Rarity just then... "Say, y'all never did tell me, what's yer play gonna be about? Other'n singin' an' talkin' fancy, what do ya got in mind fer me ta do?"
Bardigan's chortling and self-congrtulation abruptly ceases. He stares at Applejack, seemingly stupefied by his wide-eyed expression and the way his neck leans back just a bit. Did she just...? "It's... about the Princesses," he murmurs. "When Luna fell from her throne and became the dread Nightmare Moon."
Applejack says, "Ooh, Ah LOVE that story! What do ya got in mind fer me? Background chorus? Maybe one o' Celestia's guards? Ah can do that! Ah'll be all, 'Excuseth me, good sir' an' suchlike! Ah'm already more excited than a diamond dog in a dragon hoard!"
"Casting is still ongoing," Bardigan says, "but whatever role you get, I'm sure you'll perform wonderfully. *If* you follow my instructions."
Applejack grins, then stands up and salutes. "You betcher precious patootie Ah will! Uh, Ah mean, uh... 'Rest assured, darlin'!'" Well, that was ALMOST like Rarity. Kinda. "Did ya want me ta do somethin' else now or should Ah just take this home an' get crackin'?"
Bardigan holds up a hoof. "Well, hold on there, Applejack. It's not just speaking. It's singing. A lot of singing. Volume you can do. Now we see how far you can push your limits, and how much *range* you have."
Applejack nods. "Sure thing! Lessee, we had us a pretty good hoedown at th' last reunion, y'ever hear this?" And she launches into it! o/` Raise this barn, raise this barn / One two three four! / Together we can raise this barn / One two three four! / ... o/`
Bardigan bobs his head, tapping his hooves to the ground along with the beat. He is quiet, allowing Applejack to go through the entirety of the song if she so chooses.
Applejack does! She's not one for changing direction mid-course! o/` ... part of the Apple Faaaaaamiiiilyyyyy!! o/` She waits a moment for Bardigan's reaction.
Bardigan sits on his tummy, hooves stretched in front and behind like a cat as Applejack goes through the whole performance. When she is done, he clops politely on the dirt floor. "Excellent! Excellent. Your voice is a marvel, miss Applejack!" His smile immediately drops from his face. "Now show me how high you can go."
Applejack considers. "High? Ah... ain't too sure 'bout high. Always had me a kinda low voice. Folk used ta tease me, callin' it 'sultry' or 'stallion', dependin' on what they wanted from me at th' time. But... there is another song Ah really like, it's a mite higher'n that'n... here, why don't ya tell me what ya think..." She closes her eyes for a moment and sways back and forth before reaching the words. o/` Why are there so many / Songs about rainbows / An' what's on th' other side? / Rainbows are visions, but only illusions / An' rainbows have nothin' to hide... o/` www.youtube.com/watch?v=CN-d73yzsrY (this version is almost exactly what Bardigan hears)
Applejack sings, o/` So we've been told, an' some choose to believe it / Ah know they're wrong, wait an' see... / Someday we'll find it, th' Rainbow Connection / Th' fliers, th' wizards, an' me... o/`
Applejack eventually sings the whole thing. The high endoing note is about as high as she can go and remain comfortably musical.
Bardigan's eyes are closed, his ears standing high and quivering. He seems to be listening for something else even as Applejack's voice fades. His wings are half-extended, and the tips of them shiver.
Applejack smiles. "Was, uh... was that good then? Ah don't often sing that one, but it's kinda been one o' mah favorites fer a long time. There ain't a lotta songs 'bout th' sky fer Earth ponies, ya know?"
Bardigan's eyes flutter open as demurely as a butterfly's wings. "That was beautiful, AJ," he says. "If you have a singing voice like *that*... well, all that needs doing is to train your voice to *project* and *perfect*, and we're golden. You'll be dazzling ponies on and off stage left and right!"
Applejack blushes hard and tugs her hat down, but form somewhere bhind it comes: "Y... ya really think so? Ah don't think projectin' is gonna be too much of a problem, Granny says she can hear me two fields away... aheh heh." She straightnes her hat and looks at Bardigan. Her expression, though pink-cheeked, is without a doubt... hope.
Bardigan's smile is steady, his gaze unblinking. "You're such a humble mare, Applejack," he remarks, as if this is something unique in all the actresses he's taken under his wing. "I think I shall very much enjoy working with you."
Applejack chuckles. "Ah ain't that humble. Ah'm still th' best athlete in Ponyville if'n Rainbow ain't cheatin'." She winks. "Look, if'n Ah don't remember ta tell ya later... thanks, Bardigan. Ah know yer goin' out on a limb here even thinkin' 'bout includin' some... well, me."
Bardigan stands up. He trots over to Applejack and extends not a wing, but a hoof, and puts it on her shoulder. "The very best ponies for a job are often the ones who never think they would be," he intones. "Have some faith in yourself, my dear. And if you don't, worry not. I have plenty for the both of us."
Applejack re-blushes. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks. Ah can take this here book, right? Ah'm gonna see if'n Ah can get in a bit o' practice. Heh. Applebuck season starts on mah bir- uh, tomorrow. Mah mouth usually ain't got much ta do, so, maybe Ah can learn a bit? Say... How come ponies in plays talk like Rares anyhow? Ain't y'all ever got nothin' set on a farm, or just somewhere that ain't fancy-like?"
Bardigan chuckles deep in his throat, as if this is a private joke he's shared in many times. "The truth is, many of the performances I've put on stage did in fact come from rural sources far removed from Canterlot. But there's a certain... atmosphere that must be pandered to. An unfortunate truth of high society is that things are the way they are simply because that's how they're expected to be, and that goes for plays and musicals."
Applejack nods knowingly. "Tradition, kinda thing. Ah gotcha. Reckon Ah'dbetter be gettin' on home now, though." She picks up the book and balances it on her back, then looks around at the strange plants and the dimness. "Uh... don't s'pose y'all can bring along that there lantern? This place is plumb strange."
Bardigan lets out another throaty chuckle and actually *sidles* up to Applejack, holding the lantern before him. "Not feeling so much a part of the Night? Don't worry... you will." He waggles his eyebrows. "Stay close to me my dear, it's a frightfully long walk to the edge of the woods..."
Bardigan holds out a hoof.
Applejack has totally missed that hint. "What? Naw, Ah'm more of a day kinda pony. Sunlight fer th' trees, trees fer th' apples, apples fer th' ponies, ya know?" She trots along with Bardigan as the two ponies pick their way out of the Lunarium's shimmering darkness, out of the ancient castle, and out into the wilds of the Everfree. Night has fallen now, and other than the eerie glow of a few exotic plants and mushrooms, the only light to be seen is the cheerful yellow of the lantern as it bobs and weaves its way back towards Ponyville. Soon the old palace is once again alone, filled with the peaceful silence of the Night.
