[Canterlot] The Young Mare's Tail [OPEN]

[FermataTheBasse]

[colour=#008080]"I am not so conceited as to have a portrait of myself in my own office."[/colour]

[colour=#008080]"Although I have to wonder if sleep is..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive's typewriter gave a few last clacks, the keys suddenly dying as Swan's thought train died as well. It was fairly typical for her, with her less than completely focused thoughts, to sometimes lose her sense of direction in an article. She had interviewed a local weather mare, had a compelling little feature to be written for her, but Swan just wasn't feeling it now. She just had been, but she was so easily distracted at times. A sigh, a hoof reached up to her hat and caressed it lightly.[/colour]

[colour=#ffd700]"I need a break, Ellie." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive was very used to talking to herself in her own office, and by now her staff probably was as well. The entierty of the office was one large room on the corner of a high rise tower in the middle of Canterlot, the size of a decent home with no dividing walls between individual workspaces. Swan Dive had decreed it so from her first day working, she liked to be close with her staff and any visitors who happened to drop by, as Swan loved receiving letters to the editor in the form of personal visits. The room had several desks for the ponies, some complementary spreads of food laid out several times a day. Each pony who worked there had plenty of personal room to decorate as they pleased, for they were a small staff.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Swan's own space was mostly bare, but the contents of her desk gave the reasoning up quickly. On her desk were framed photos and trophies, all reminders of her hobby as a dancer. The one thing she really focused on besides her journalistic endeavors, the space around her desk was commonly host to her practice of routines. Again, her staff was probably far used to it by now. [/colour]Swan felt the need to get grooving, perhaps a quick trotthrough of the salsa routine she'd be putting on tomorrow, but first, she glanced at her employees.

[colour=#ffd700]"Hello, everypony! Having a good day so far?" [/colour][colour=#000000]The style of affairs in the office of Young Mare's Tail was incredibly relaxed, Swan Dive allowed her workers free reign to do whatever they felt necessary to complete their assigned articles. She loved all of them, and had interviewed and published most of them already.[/colour]

[Blueblood]

Payment for one column a week does not a life in Canterlot make. Oh, sure, a pony can survive on the bits, but the pleasures of the city are beyond his reach, which leaves him only the inconveniences.

Such was the insight that came to Earth Writer some time after starting his rather unexpected journalistic career. He'd had no training in the business, until he found out that the market for academic geographers wasn't open to fresh goods. On the other hand, there was always a market for ponies who could tell the whole of Equestria about every particular thing in it, provided you could write the story.

This Earth Writer could do, and it was this skill, of being able to learn about a place and tell its story, that made him his bits. Still, the once-weekly business wasn't enough, as mentioned before, so he'd gone hunting for another paper to work for as well.

He'd walked into the offices one day, under the impression that he was giving a job interview. He'd given so many in the course of the day, all unsuccessful, that once Swan Dive started on her own business, the stallion was only too happy to pour out the story of his life.

Result: His story had been published in the evening edition of The Young Mare's Tail, and he found himself next day at a desk, writing out articles for the paper.

His approach had similarities to his editor's, with one major difference. If Swan Dive represented the "Who," Earth Writer represented the "Where." Each and every place, he believed, had a story worth telling to the world. Naturally, most of his articles dealt with places relevant to the ponies' stories printed in the paper, but he didn't mind. They were far and varied, and The Young Mare's Tail had a rather generous travel budget...

For now, however, he was content in the Canterlot offices, greeting his editor with a cheery, "[colour=#8b4513]Yes, Thank You![/colour]" as he wrote out his copy.

"There is a distinct parallel between the nightclubs and the Princess of the Night; often times they were once places of secret, and not quite legal, meetings, which time transformed, and care redeemed, into the clubs now frequently enjoyed..."

He couldn't help the academic flavor of his writing, but he had a knack for drawing parallels that were thoughtful and interesting.

[FermataTheBasse]

[colour=#008080]"A publication should be as a narrative. There is character, setting, even some dramatic plot."[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Left hoof down, swing of the body in the other direction, right hoof down, swing, and if Swan actually had a partner to dance with then she could pull off the rest of her dance moves. As it were, she pantomimed having an invisible dancer alongside her, her hoof crooked up as if taken by another ponies, she was brought up onto her rear hooves, spun around so her back was to the ground, and bent down to be face to face with her now stooping and still non existent partner. In reality it looked as if Swan were randomly bent over backward for no discernible reason. But her staff was used to it, as has already been said.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Swan sprung up to all fours, trotted over to her tan-coated friend. She had found him, as she usually did, through her interview process, it just so happened that on top of publishing his story she also hired him. As a stallion passionate about geography, she figured that he'd be the right choice to tackle settings and locations related to her own stories, and that was true enough. She gave him the money, he'd give her good stories of locale. She only had words for ponies, words dedicated to places strained her mental faculties incredibly. So Earth was an invaluable member of her team.[/colour]

[colour=#ffd700]"What are you writing, if I may ask?" [/colour][colour=#000000]She put her head onto her forelegs, which she crossed onto his desk, looking right at and a bit up at him.[/colour]

[Blueblood]

Having to deal with a boss so laid-back that she would randomly dance with invisible stallions during work hours was, perhaps, something that took a little getting used to. On the other hand, the lack of stress this encouraged in the office made for a easy work atmosphere, so Earth Writer didn't bother too much about it.

He gave Swan Dive a precis of his copy, "[colour=#8b4513]It's a kind of follow-up to our piece on the mare who worked security for the nightclub. I looked into the history of the place; turns out it used to be a secret speakeasy, back in the days of Prohibition. I thought that the place's story had a parallel to Princess Luna's; how it used to be emblematic of what had gone wrong in Equestria, but outlived all the worst aspects of itself, living on and making the night more fun and hospitable.[/colour]" He tapped his pencil on the desk before asking, "[colour=#8b4513]Do you think she'll like it? The Princess, I mean.[/colour]"

[FermataTheBasse]

[colour=#008080]"Is a precis a food from Germaney?"[/colour]

[colour=#ffd700]"Oh yes, I remember her!" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive remembered everyone, and though she had long forgotten the nightclub they had been in, she remembered that mare clear as day. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"She was so demure, strangely enough, despite being a security guard. But that's weird. I didn't know we had a Prohibition back in the day. I thought that was just a fictional element for dramatic effect?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan wasn't the most well informed mare in the world when it came to any subject that wasn't people or dancing, she had forgotten most of her childhood history lessons already. Something about the Princesses and Hearth's Warming. That was about all she remembered, because she knew most of the actors in the usual Hearth's Warming pageants. [/colour]

[colour=#ffd700]"It's an interesting story to draw, juxtaposition and such. And as for the Princess, I'm not sure if she reads our publication or not. But we can always hope, right?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan didn't track her subscriptions too extensively. [/colour]

[Blueblood]

If Earth Writer had been wearing glasses, he would have looked at Swan Dive over the top of them. He sometimes failed to remember how much of a sieve her head could be when not concerned with her pet subjects. "[colour=#8b4513]Yes, it was real alright. Reality is often much more interesting than anything an author could make up. That's why we write non-fiction. Not that I don't mind a good novel myself.[/colour]" He paused again, staring off into space. "[colour=#8b4513]Although I'm dashed if I know why we ever had it. Maybe it was all an elaborate plot to cultivate a nightlife in Equestria, so Princess Luna would not be so lonely upon her return. Hm, maybe I should put in that speculation.[/colour]"

The stallion jotted down a few more sentences, finishing out the paragraph, before he spoke again. "[colour=#8b4513]This shouldn't take me too much longer. What else is coming out in the latest edition?[/colour]"

[FermataTheBasse]

[colour=#008080]"Don't speculate, ask!"[/colour]

[colour=#ffd700]"Reality is more interesting, that is true. But for me, history is perhaps just as fictional as fiction itself! I cannot, after all, talk to or touch the ponies of the past." [/colour][colour=#000000]It was Swan Dive's usual whiny tirade on why she disliked studying and academia. A biography for her was only worth it if the pony in question was actually around to be talked to in person. Most of her staff had heard it many times already, and Swan spared Earth the pain of her full speech, which included actual tears and hoof shaking at the air. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Well we have interviewed many members of the nightlife before, Earth. What conclusions would you draw about them? And feel free to write up on your thoughts if you feel like it." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan wasn't too specific on who wrote what in her publication. With one specific caveat. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Remember, not too academic. Try to get interviews or such."[/colour]

[colour=#000000]With Earth's next question Swan began to pirouette her way over toward the stack of drafts that would become their next newspaper issue, sitting in a neat pile on the floor beside the food counter. She checked through it. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Some interesting ponies, Earth. Ponyville, Fillydelphia, Stalliongrad, I've been well traveled this month! Reviews, personal advice, humorous accounts..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan nodded and smiled at each member of her staff who typically wrote such things as she said them. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"You remember what you wrote, yes Earth?"[/colour]

[Blueblood]

If there was anything about his boss that actually irritated Earth Writer, down to the very depths of his soul, it was this ahistorical carelessness. It wasn't just that she underrated the past, but underrated herself. 100 years from now, the archives of this paper would probably be the only record of certain ponies and their stories. Any scholar would tell you that a true account of contemporary life was the most valuable resource imaginable.

He didn't argue, though. It wasn't worth the dust-up, not when he still lived hoof-to-mouth like this. Leaving aside the debate, he went straight to the question. "[colour=#8b4513]Conclusions? They're mostly just thoughts right now.[/colour]" He shrugged. "[colour=#8b4513]What generalizations can you make about 'day life'? The first can be as varied as the second. Some work the nights, and some come to play, and some can't have it any other way.[/colour]" He paused, having just realized that he'd composed a couplet accidentally, and wrote it down.

Speaking of writing... "[colour=#8b4513]Yes, I remember. It was sort of a tie-in to the piece about Rarity. We grew up in the same town, though she was just taking off in her business while I was still in university. I was writing about hats. Even ponies who don't normally wear clothes wear hats, and the kind of hats they wear often tell more about their origins than they know.[/colour]" *For instance, no other city could possibly have composed that hat.* He didn't say that last thought out loud, though.

He returned in a desultory way to his copy, before speaking up again. "[colour=#8b4513]If you don't mind getting my article late, I could probably go out to the nightclub myself, tonight. I've never been there when it's open for business.[/colour]" Earth wasn't the most sociable of ponies, and definitely preferred sleep to dancing the night away. Still, the boss had asked for interviews, and the stallion was nothing if not diligent.

[FermataTheBasse]

[colour=#008080]"Hats! Never enough hats!"[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Swan giggled when Earth accidentally made a quick little rhyme on the spot, giggled even more when he actually wrote it down. It was the little things about everypony that she tried to notice, that she enjoyed noticing. Earth had been a member of her staff for a fairly long time, she had come to like him in spite of his occasional tendencies to crack under even moderate pressure. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Well that is why our tales are made, the variance will not fade. So long as we write, friendships and loves will take flight. Ooh, double rhyme!" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive rubbed her hooves together, happy with her own little coup, began to read idly through some of the articles she'd made...[/colour]