URI:
   DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Roleplaying is Magic
  HTML https://rpismagic.createaforum.com
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       *****************************************************
   DIR Return to: Ponyville
       *****************************************************
       #Post#: 571--------------------------------------------------
       Splitting the Rent
       By: Snowflake Date: January 12, 2014, 11:37 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       TAP! TAP! TAP!
       With a few more strikes from her hoof upon the head of a small
       nail, Snowflake stepped back from the bulletin board, letting
       out an exasperated sigh as she looked upon her work. Among the
       pages on the community board, hers was nailed up in one of the
       few spaces that were more or less free, and was thankfully very
       easily noticeable, what with it being just about eye level.
       Taking a pause, she absentmindedly went over the words that were
       on her own advert in her mind, enunciating them with an inner
       voice that ended up sounding awfully showy, even for her usual
       self. Wanted: Flatmate. Cheap rent, two bedrooms, kitchen,
       bathroom, and living room. Flexible, agreeable, and keeps to
       herself mostly. Knock at Flat 4 and ask for Snow. INTERVIEW
       REQUIRED.
       Snowflake snickered a little to herself as she finished going
       over her flyer; perhaps she might be coming off as too uptight
       with that interview requirement. This was just a process to look
       for a flatmate after all, neither of them would probably notice
       each other in their day to day activities in the end, but
       Snowflake needed to make sure that the pony she would be renting
       this flat with could at least take care of themselves, and be
       somewhat agreeable in the process, and what better way to do
       that than to have a chat over some tea and biscuits? Thinking
       about it like that, the turquoise pony shook her head slightly;
       perhaps 'interview' was the wrong word after all, it was way too
       formal for what it would actually be. Oh well, no harm really
       done, she would just have to remember to not be so surprised if
       a pony turned up in a fancy suit looking to impress, like an
       actual job interview.
       As she mulled that over in her head, Snowflake picked up the box
       of nails that she brought with her, placing it back in her
       saddlebags alongside a few more rolled up flyers. There were
       still more bulletin boards around town that she had to post this
       on, and the morning light was burning. Flipping her head to get
       a stray bit of her glacial blue mane out of her eyes, she turned
       and trotted down the street, keeping up a steady pace. If she
       kept this pace, she would have hit all the bulletin boards
       before lunch, and the fact that half of breakfast was burned and
       garbage did not help just how hungry she felt.
       =========
       Three days later, Snowflake decided to stay in her flat. It was
       raining outside, and the miserable weather meant that she
       couldn't make her regular run around the town to get her
       exercise, and sadly, there wasn't much else left to do here.
       Drops of water spattered against the fogged glass window,
       trailing off of the pane and over the window sill. Her flat was
       on the second floor of the building, and her window had a decent
       vantage of the street just out front. It was littered with
       puddles and streams heading towards the nearest ditches and
       drains. Every so often, one could see an unfortunate individual
       galloping through the street as they were assaulted by the
       torrential downpour.
       As far as Snowflake knew, the weather in Ponyville was supposed
       to be pretty nice for most days of the month, but right now, it
       was reminding her of back home in Trottingham where it rained
       nearly every second day, making that town one of the more gloomy
       places to live. The worst part was, Snowflake now had to cope
       with this kind of weather by herself in a home that even she
       hadn't become all too accustomed to yet. Usually, she would
       brave the rain and try to visit one of her friends back in
       Trottingham and make the most of a day that would be spent
       mostly indoors, but she was still rather new in the town, and
       the only thing she had in here to keep her company were the
       various things that she brought with her.
       Right now, it was the crossword puzzle sitting right in front of
       her from the day’s paper. Pencil gripped in her teeth, she
       scratched the side of her head, squinting at the rather cryptic
       clue that was given for thirty-seven across. So far, the entire
       thing was very much incomplete, with only the easiest answers
       the ones filled in, and unfortunately, none of them intersected
       with this one. As Snow wracked her brain for an answer, she
       started remembering just why she wasn’t good at any of these
       puzzle things, and began to question why she had this in front
       of her in the first place. Dropping the pencil down on the paper
       with an unsatisfied huff, she stood up and flopped on the couch.
       In addition to the bulletins she posted up, she paid for a small
       classified ad in the local paper for cheap, roughly ten bits to
       have it run for four days. Should be long enough for a pony in
       need to notice, right? It had been three days already, and the
       amount of time that passed was starting to bear down on her. The
       only reason she was doing this was so she could have an easier
       time coasting on her winter savings until the next season, and
       not have to take a summer job. Rent was her biggest expense
       right now, and if she could cut that in half, she would be doing
       better than she did before. Besides, it was getting rather
       boring around here by herself, at least she would have someone
       to chat it up with if they were at least somewhat likable.
       Flipping over onto her side and resting her head on the arm of
       the couch, she sighed in boredom once more, looking up at her
       snowboard which hung proudly on the wall, freshly waxed since
       she came here, and glistening like new. She sorely wished she
       could be on a mountain right now, where the air was thin, cold,
       and refreshing, not close, warm, and kinda tiring. She could not
       even alleviate this boredom listening to some music, as she had
       to listen to the door, and at the volume she liked to listen to
       her tunes, it was a wonder she wasn’t deaf. Pulling her gray,
       woolen toque over her eyes, she rested her head on her foreleg,
       goggles hanging loosely around her neck. Nothing to do but wait,
       she supposed.
       #Post#: 572--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Schwambart Date: January 13, 2014, 1:04 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Rain.  Too much rain.  Why hadn't he brought his umbrella?  Of
       course that was the one thing he'd thought about bringing from
       his previous home and then forgotten before leaving.  It's
       getting on in the evening when Schwambart pulls his wagon up to
       the building advertised in the bulletin board, but he just
       recently woke up, still not reaccustomed to the sleep schedule
       that would be considered "normal" to most other ponies after his
       traveling fiasco.  Of course, there are also ponies who would
       consider his new pattern to be more in line with what's proper.
       Eh.  It's all the same to him.  All he knows right now is that
       rain is irritating and his muscles don't like him right now.
       Also he can't see.  The rain coming down did such a number on
       his glasses that wearing them actually just blurred his vision
       even more, so he's put them in his vest pocket, where they'll at
       least be dry...well, drier.
       Thankfully, the residents of Ponyville are friendly enough to
       help him find his way to the advertised flat, and when he
       reaches the appropriate building the stallion occupying one of
       the first floor flats directs him to the proper door where he
       can apply.  Of course, he is slightly apprehensive about it.
       The all-capitalized INTERVIEW REQUIRED didn't exactly do much to
       comfort him, afraid that there might be more stringent
       requirements that could only be properly conveyed face to face
       or something, but he needs to do something for housing or all
       that time he'd spent walking would have been completely wasted.
       As opposed to mostly wasted.  Multiple times just on the way
       over he'd contemplated just heading to the train station and
       buying his way back home with the funds he'd brought with him,
       it having been meant for him to live on while he got himself
       established but probably enough to get him and his goods
       returned to whence they came.
       He peers upward as best he can to the door he'd soon be knocking
       on.  He'd need to leave his wagon, of course, no way it was
       getting up those stairs.  He removes his harness and gives a
       stretch, glad of the relieving of his burden at least.  He
       unfurls his wings in preparation to fly up to the second floor,
       his wings the only part of him that wasn't ridiculously sore,
       but decides against it because of the rain.  It would do a
       number on his maneuverability and he might end up hurting
       himself, and that would NOT be a good way to spend his time when
       he doesn't even have a home right now.  Oh well, looks like
       he'll be hoofing it.  He trots over to the stairs and up to the
       second floor, folding his wings back into place.  Okay, ask for
       Snow.  Should be fine.  Right.
       He stands under the covering over the entrance to the flat for a
       moment, just enjoying the sensation of NOT being poured upon by
       several gallons of water per second.  Then, nothing more he can
       do to delay it, he extends his hoof and knocks five times firmly
       on the door.  Oh, right, his glasses.  While he waits, he
       retrieves his glasses from his pocket and puts them on his face.
       Okay, not the best view, but now that the rain wasn't
       constantly battering them they'd dry.  Eventually.  Wonder if
       they'll finish before he gets kicked out...Oh well.  He
       withdraws his comb from another pocket and begins working at his
       bedraggled mane, not really accomplishing much but still wanting
       to at least make an effort.  His eyes float upward, and he
       wishes he could just fly up over the clouds and out of the
       inclement weather.  Perhaps he'd do just that once his
       acceptance or failure has been finalized...
       #Post#: 573--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Snowflake Date: January 13, 2014, 1:58 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Suddenly a knocking noise resounded through the flat, and Snow
       was off of the couch with a startled "Woah!" Hitting the floor
       on her stomach definitely stunned her a little bit afterwards,
       and the toque that was still over her eyes was somewhat
       confusing. Where was she? What time was it? How long had she
       slept? All of these questions raced through her mind at first,
       her heart rate going at a rapid pace until she realized the
       reason that she couldn't see all that well. Stopping to push her
       toque back up onto her head, before deciding to take it off and
       toss it on the coffee table carelessly, leaving her mane more or
       less a bit of a mess. It didn't matter to her, it was how she
       liked to have it. It very much went with how she felt today.
       'Whatever works.'
       That was knocking on the door wasn't it? Who was crazy enough to
       brave this torrential downpour? Surely it wasn't the landlord,
       as she was keeping pace with the rent fees. She had been
       abnormally quiet for the past while, so no neighbours would be
       braying on the door to tell her to keep it down. There was no
       way her immediate family would want to see her anytime today,
       tomorrow, or maybe for the next eternity. An old friend?
       Unlikely. No, this had to be on of those solicitors. They were
       the only ones crazy enough to brave the weather, just to get
       something sold. Knocking on door after door, disturbing the
       peace, swindling common ponyfolk out of hard earned cash... she
       was sure to give them what's what.
       Arching her back to stretch both her front and back legs, Snow
       walked to the front door, undoing the first lock before pushing
       on the handle, "Sorry guv'nah, but we don'..." she trailed off
       as she opened the door as far as it would, which was only a
       crack as it was held in place with a locking chain. This sopping
       wet green stallion didn't look like a salespony. In fact, he
       looked more miserable than falsely cheery, though that more than
       likely had more to do with the weather, so it gave her pause as
       she finished her sentence, "... buy or sell a' this door." Half
       of her face was obscured by the door, and the one yellow eye
       that could see through the crack looked the stallion up and down
       quickly, and she gave a light huff.
       She spoke up in a tired sounding Trottingham accent, "Ya don'
       look loike no salespony, love, an' ya sittin' in'a spot'a bother
       where Oi dun' know ya fo' squat. Ya lookin' fo' some'un?"
       #Post#: 576--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Schwambart Date: January 13, 2014, 10:19 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Yeah, that trip above the clouds is sounding better and better
       by the moment.  It wasn't exactly an easy climb back home, but
       here in Ponyville the clouds seem to be kept lower than there.
       He won't complain about that, nope.  Means that he could
       probalby head up there just about any time he wants and take a
       nap (as long as it's a cloudy day, of course), maybe work on his
       sleep schedule for a bit to rearrange it to his liking.  His
       thoughts are interrupted by the slight opening of the door, and
       he looks back forward.  He can't see the occupant very well
       through his sopping glasses and the barely-open door, but-
       Salespony.  She thinks he's a salespony.  Doesn't that just-
       Who, by Celestia's Beard, would put out an ad, asking and
       advertising for a flatmate, and then just assumes somepony who
       comes to the door is-
       Deep breath.  Give it a moment.  Make a joke before you start
       yelling.  He gives a forced smile that turns out more like a
       grimace, only having finished combing half of his mane.  "Ah, I
       may not be a salespony, but who's to say I have nothing to sell?
       I am here to wow you with the Schwambart Mk. IV!  He tells
       jokes, juggles sort of, does other tricks.  He can even talk!
       He slices!  He dices!  He makes julienne fries!  And he can be
       all yours for the low, low price of letting him pay rent..."  He
       trails off as his half-hearted grimace gradually slips off his
       face, and he heaves a sigh.
       "Please tell me I'm in the right place.  I'm looking to answer a
       wanted ad for a flatmate.  It said I should ask for...Snowflake?
       I can just leave if you want.  In fact, why don't I just do
       that?  Sorry for wasting your time, Miss."  He turns around to
       leave, stopping at the edge of the umbrella provided by the
       building.  He really doesn't want to go back into the rain.  At
       least it's a warm rain today, not the cold rain that it
       doubtless would be at home.  But at least there he knew he was
       welcome, always had somepony to talk with and play with, joke
       with oh Celestia he's missing them right now.
       #Post#: 581--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Snowflake Date: January 13, 2014, 6:20 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       For a good while, Snowflake was sort of stunned by the stallions
       reaction to her question. She had no idea what a Schwambart Mk.
       IV was, nor why it had to do so many things. After the initial
       confusion of the whole situation, coupled with her only still
       being half awake, she realized that he was describing a pony,
       most likely himself. The economy must have hit an all time low
       for ponies to go door to door selling -themselves-...
       That wasn’t exactly what he was asking for now, was it? In his
       weird way, he had turned her assumption that he was a salespony
       into some sort of application for being a flatmate, which was
       kind of clever and probably would have made her laugh if that
       grimace didn’t look as pained as it did, or he didn’t look as
       soaked as can be. He had turned around and started to walk off,
       looking as though he was ready to jump back into the rain and
       fly off. “Wait! ‘Ang on there…” Snow called after him as she
       undid the chain that held the door shut, “Don’ run off juuuus’
       yet, if ya lookin’ fo’ Snow, ya found’er.”
       Opening the door all the way, she stepped outside, thankfully
       the entrance was shielded by an awning, so she wasn’t getting as
       soaked as he was, though it was pretty chilly out. As soon as
       she was outside she apologized with a bit of a cheeky grin,
       “Sorry ‘bout th’suspicion there, love. Oi never would’a ‘xpected
       some’un would be crazy ‘nuff t’come all this way ou’ in’th’rain,
       so Oi though’ ya’d be one’a them crazy salesponies.” She
       shrugged afterwards and continued to smirk in a friendly manner,
       “Eh, whatevs, amiright? Ya must’a wanted t’come see th’place
       pre’y badly t’come through th’rain, so Oi ain’ gonna turn ya’way
       now. Come ‘nsoide fo’an hour, Oi’ll gitcha a towel, gimme a
       sec.”
       She left the door open so that the potential flatmate could walk
       in after her, and trotted to the bathroom, pulling a white towel
       out of the cabinet. Making her way back to the front door, she
       handed it over to him and said, “So yeah, ya know moi name’s
       Snowflake, o’ Snow fo’ short, s’wot moi brothers an’ sissas call
       me. I’m guessin’ yer name was Shumbar’, yeah? S’a plesh’ah
       t’meet ya, make ya’self a’ home, an’ Oi’ll jus’ awsk ya a few
       questions.”
       Snow’s flat didn’t look too out of the ordinary. The living room
       kept some pretty standard furnishings such as a couch long
       enough to seat three ponies side by side, a low table, and a
       reclining chair by the window. The kitchen was open to the
       living room, carrying a refrigerator, a stove and oven, and a
       decent amount of countertop space. The only designated table
       here appeared to be a couple of high stools pushed up to the
       part of the counter that extended out a bit. Snow took a seat on
       the recliner, and waited patiently for Schwambart to sit down.
       #Post#: 583--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Schwambart Date: January 13, 2014, 8:08 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Schwambart sighs with relief and turns back around when Snow
       steps outside.  Good, it means that he won't be required to go
       back out to look for her some more.  On the other hoof, his
       failure to keep his cool would probalby not do wonders for his
       chances of being the flatmate.  That might not be so bad.  Just
       go home, tell his story to his family about how they'd gotten
       scammed and lost all that money...Yeah, let's not do that.  He
       might as well stick around after all the time and effort he
       spent getting here, at least long enough to get thrown out.
       Could be good for a laugh.  His smile returns, more genuine than
       before though still not as big as the one he'd tried pulling off
       before.  "Yeah, whatevs.  No worries.  Happens more often than
       you'd think," he jokes as he steps in behind her, closing the
       door with a soft click.
       "Thanks," he says when she returns with the towel.  A wing
       removes his glasses and he takes the towel to dry himself off as
       best he can, starting with his face.  From there the towel goes
       to his mane and neck, then to the opposite wing.  When that's
       dry(ish), he flips the glasses over his back onto the waiting
       dried wing so he can dry the other without knocking them around
       and risking their breakage.  Next come his forelegs, then his
       stomach, then his hind legs.  The back comes last, since he
       really has no good way of drying it while keeping his balance,
       legs and wings both not really able to fulfill the task.
       Instead he lays the towel on the ground, sets his glasses on his
       face, and lies down on it before rolling vigorously from side to
       side, trying to rub the moisture out as well as he can.
       That done, he stands once more and picks up the towel, this time
       taking it to his glasses, finally clearing it of its liquid
       sheen.  "So much better, thanks so much," he says to his host as
       he gets his first good look around the flat.  Not a bad place at
       all.  Sans the furniture, actually looks like it could
       accommodate two or three more ponies than the two of them,
       though that could just be the perception he got from living with
       his rather large family.  Guess most of the furniture he brought
       with him would be pretty superfluous here.  Oh well, as long as
       he has a place to sleep.  "Nice to meet you, Snow.  Name's
       actually Schwambart.  A. Capella Schwambart, but you can call me
       Schwam, A., Capella, A. Capella, ACap, Pockets, Mk. IV, or
       whatever else works.  I'll answer to just about anything."  He
       walks over to the couch and lays the towel down on it so his
       still-damp coat doesn't do too much to it, then sits himself
       down.  "Happy to answer any questions."
       #Post#: 585--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Snowflake Date: January 13, 2014, 10:38 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       As Snow waited for Schwambart to have a seat just over there,
       she ran over some of the questions that she needed to ask before
       she came to the decision that he would be allowed to share the
       rent with her. Important ones like his background, career, and
       anything on his criminal record came to mind, but other than
       that, she started to struggle coming up with things. She was
       probably just as nervous as Schwam was, even if she was the one
       with the upper hoof and holding all the cards. She was the one
       that would decide whether he stayed or left, and one mistake in
       judgement could leave her looking for a flatmate even longer.
       She didn't want to say that she was desperate yet, but finding a
       flatmate needed to happen, and he was the first one to look
       promising at first glance.
       Already, he came off as pretty timid for a stallion, even if
       somewhat outgoing in a nervous way just judging by his elaborate
       attempt at a joke. His immediate attempt to call it off and
       leave before finding out who he was talking to didn't really
       bother her as much; in his position, she would have probably
       wouldn't blame herself for wanting to split after such a flop.
       He seemed to be pretty courteous as well, taking the time to
       both dry off as best as he could, and even putting the towel on
       the couch so that he didn't accidentally get it soaked from just
       sitting there. He knew how to take care of a house, which was
       even more promising than most of those ponies who were trying to
       rent for the first time and treating the place without an ounce
       of respect, or just getting distracted by her as she asked the
       questions. It was for that reason that she would have preferred
       another mare to apply, but she was in no position to be picky.
       Besides, Schwam seemed to be respectable enough.
       "Roigh' Shumbar'," Snow began leaning back in her chair as she
       looked at Schwambart, "'ope ya dun' moind if Oi call ya Cappy,
       do ya? Mean ya no harm for't, I don'. Anyway, no' sure'f ya know
       jus' 'ow a flatmate in'nerview gen'rally works, bu' troi no' to
       troi too 'ard t'impress, yeah? Oi'm pre'y much gonna be livin'
       with ya fo' however long we loike, an' Oi really wanna avoid
       somethin' all stiff an' business-loike in that toime, so go
       ahead an' ditch any prop'rness whoile ya still can, 'cause i's
       no' what Oi'm lookin' fo'. Oh, an' don' be afraid t'awsk me any
       questions ya moigh' 'ave fo' me too, I ain' gonna rip ya'a new
       one fo' wantin' t'know abou' th'gurl ya gonna be stayin' with.
       SO!" She exclaimed, leaning forward with a smile, "Tell me 'bout
       ya'self, Cappy! Tell me 'bout ya loife growin' up as a li'l
       toike t'now. What brings ya t'Ponyville?"
       #Post#: 586--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Schwambart Date: January 14, 2014, 12:07 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "Cappy?"  He pretends to mull it over, taking the more casual
       atmosphere she seems to be promoting as permission to joke at
       will.  "It will do, I suppose.  Hm, yes, quite," he continues,
       lifting his muzzle into the air and half-lidding his eyes in a
       bored expression before continuing on with a regular, non-snooty
       tone of voice, a grin finding its way onto his face.  "As long
       as you don't put an 'r' in there.  I've been called worse, trust
       me."  It's for that reason that he hasn't shared what his first
       initial stands for.  "Should be fine.  May I call you Ekalfwons,
       or is that a little bit out there for you?  Maybe just Wons."
       Name backwards.  Classic, but can get some really fun ones with
       the right names.
       "From when I was little to now?  Not like you're asking for my
       life story or anything.  Oh wait, you sort of are.  Well, I can
       give you a rough outline," he says, leaning forward himself.
       "Once I was little.  Now I'm not.  Oh, and there was some stuff
       in between..."  He chuckles and settles back onto the couch.
       "Well, I was born in a nice little town near Salt Lick City, but
       did next to none of my growing up there.  In fact, we moved
       probalby five or six times before finally settling down in West
       Saddleton.  By that time I was seven years old and in second
       grade.  I didn't go to kindergarten, Mom homeschooling me that
       year instead, and went to two schools for first grade.  I was a
       fair chunk smarter than most everypony else in my grade, and
       they didn't take too kindly to us.  It didn't help that I wasn't
       exactly a cookie-cutter colt, either, with some quirks and a
       temper problem.  In fact, most everypony who we ever actually
       made friends with were adults.  Made it kinda hard to fit in.
       Could probalby have called us teacher's pets."
       Getting a little bogged down.  Maybe summarize more and less
       specifics.  "Anyway, got into the Gifted and Talented program
       pretty easily, but didn't start making friends until I hit
       seventh grade or so.  I was big on reading, though, so I didn't
       let it bother me too much.  As long as I could read, I was
       happy, and my pretty big family helped, too.  Then I got to high
       school and made a few more friends.  By then my grades were
       suffering, but right as soon as my social skills improved a
       little I also found more motivation to get my work done and
       finished out my last couple of years pretty well.  Since then
       I've been working on saving up to go to a decent college.  I've
       done a couple of summers working up at my grandma's farm on
       manual labor and such, and worked landscaping and
       semi-construction a few times, but mainly I've been working with
       my dad at his retail store that he's an owning partner in."
       He readjusts himself.  "And then I got into drawing, and I've
       been working freelance.  I thought that maybe it would be best
       if I moved out of the house to get out on my own, and my parents
       encouraged me to do so.  We found an ad for a cheap home here,
       and spent the money on it.  After a week and a half of walking,
       I get here and find out it was a scam and the house we bought is
       set to be demolished within the week.  I could go back home, but
       after how long I worked on getting here I don't want to just
       head back empty-hoofed."  He nods his head to the window.
       "Everything I own myself is actually outside right now, in my
       wagon under a tarp.  If I don't find somewhere to stay soon, I'm
       probalby just going to jump on the first train back home.  Don't
       even need to repack.  There's a nice mare who's offered to let
       me stay with her until I can get back on my hooves, but I really
       don't want to impose on her like that."  He looks down.  Not
       that it hadn't crossed his mind, and it certainly didn't seem
       like a bad option, but he didn't want to mooch.  His eyes lift
       again and his mood improves.  "Then I found out you were looking
       for a flatmate, and thought I might as well give it a try.  This
       way I can make it so my trip wasn't a complete waste and also
       pay my way.  And that pretty much catches you up on my life to
       date.  Er...so far."
       He clears his throat and shakes his head.  Erm.  Interesting
       turn of phrase there.  Anyway.  "So, what about you?  I love
       your accent by the way...though I suppose for you, I'm the one
       with the accent.  Where are you from?"
       #Post#: 588--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Snowflake Date: January 14, 2014, 2:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Her relaxed tone that she applied to the conversation seemed to
       be helping, as Schwambart seemed to be relaxing himself around
       her, so she could see who he really was behind the facade. He
       was making a few more quips this time around, which didn’t
       really bother her, since she figured it would probably be better
       to have a flatmate who was a quick thinker rather than one who
       was slow to learn. The more she heard his story though, she came
       to a realization: this guy was such a ‘bookie’, or an egghead.
       It certainly explained his more educated sounding manner of
       talking. Scratching her chin, the thought crossed her mind that
       she may have to break him in and show him what it means to have
       a good time, but that would have to be later down the line, and
       that was even if he kept up to her standards in this interview.
       Snow, having tired of sitting like this in her recliner, decided
       to recline, though not it the way the chair was meant to
       recline. Shifting around on the chair, she put her back legs
       over one arm, and her head over the other with her forelegs
       crossed behind it, effectively lying on the chair perpendicular
       to how it was meant to be, letting out a sigh in relaxation,
       "Trottin'am, love. Born an' raised. Th'only ci'y tha'as more
       mis'rable weather than this on'na regula' basis. Real upp'r
       crust there, moi fam'ly was, an' Oi go' tha' stiff upp'r lip
       t'boot." She waved her hoof in the air with a grin, "Naaaaah~,
       Oi nev'r picked it up. Couldn' really gi' moiself in'na tha'
       posh scene, an' hone'ly, nev'r really cared for't."
       "'Cause when ya look a' it," she began, exaggerating her words
       and waving her front legs in the air in front of her, as if to
       add some sort of mysticism to them in a sarcastic manner, "all
       i' is is faaaaawncy paaaarties, an' busssinesss triiiiiiipssss,
       an' stallions with blood more blue than th'soddin' blueb'ries.
       Oi tell ya, those suits 'ad no idear 'ow t'live their loives,
       an' Oi was sooooo bored tha' Oi became quiote th'li'l rebel, Oi
       did. Got moiself kicked outta a few o'them fawncy boardin'
       schools fo' fillies 'cause of i' until Oi foinally go' a public
       school tha' Oi could make some decen' friends in." Snow kept on
       grinning to herself as she recounted a few more things in her
       head, including some of those activities that had her expelled
       from some of the boarding schools.
       Snowflake then gesture to the wall that her snowboard was
       mounted on; the waxed, deep blue board with three snowflake on
       the bottom, akin to her cutie mark, hanging over a cork board
       with many different pictures pinned to it. Most of these
       pictures shared one thing in common: either the predominant
       whiteness from the snow of a mountaintop, or the turquoise
       colour of Snow’s coat, accompanied by other ponies, all garbed
       in various winter gear, including their own sets of brightly
       coloured goggles like the ones that were around Snow’s neck
       right now, “Firs’ toime Oi got moiself t’Stalliongrad, Oi got
       moiself intra’duced t’the world o’ snowboardin’, an’ boy, lemme
       tell ya, nev’r ‘ad so much fun’n moi loife, an’ Oi took to it
       loike butt’r on’a slope.”
       She bobbed her head as she continued to look at the wall with a
       distant expression, as if remembering her time on the mountains
       to some sort of montage of music, “Anyway, go’ moiself enter’d
       in’na few comp’titions, go’ moiself noticed by some spons’rs,
       an’ now Oi guess Oi’m what’s call’d an awthle’e these days. No’
       complain’in though, i’s a sport Oi love, ya feel me?” She
       gestured around her to the flat, “‘Course, when Oi make i’
       t’th’big leagues, Oi’ll prolly end up movin’ outta this
       second-ra’e place fo’ somewhere a tad more posh, ya know?
       Jacuzzis, private bars, king soize beds, the mos’ baws speakers
       Oi can ge’ in Eques’ria… all in the beaut tundra of
       Stalliongrad, prolly roigh’ on the moun’ain!”
       “Awww yeah, won’ tha’ be jus’ a peach…” she trailed off before
       suddenly remembering herself in her relaxed nature, clearing her
       throat as she said, “Roigh’, ‘nuff ‘bout moi pers’nal
       fawntasies, still a loooong toime b’fore Oi ge’ t’tha’ point
       anyway. Jus’ a few more ques’ions fo’ ya. Firs’, d’ya ‘ave a
       good enough income t’keep your end’a rent up on’na reg’la’
       basis? S’abou’ two hundred a month f’this place, so you’d ‘ave
       t’scrape up a’hundred. Second, d’ya ‘ave any reservations or
       things Oi should know ‘bout ya, loike criminal record or stuff?
       Gonna be ‘ones’ wit’cha, Oi was a delinquent in moi loife
       growin’ up, bu’ Oi’m mature now… ish. An’ thirdly, ‘ow well d’ya
       gen’rally tolerate livin’ an’ sharin’ th’same spaces with
       others? ‘Cause there’s gonna be a lo’ of tha’.”
       #Post#: 590--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Splitting the Rent
       By: Schwambart Date: January 14, 2014, 4:35 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       So, Snow came from the upper crust.  Money.  Opportunity.  The
       stuff he never had.  He'd wondered for a while just how far he
       could have gone if he had circumstances like those.  If he'd
       been more exposed to those who could help him expand his
       knowledge, had access to more resources more in line with his
       intellect...maybe ponies more likely to be his friends, though
       that was just about as hit-or-miss as you could get, but at
       least the snooty ponies, so far as he knows, tend to put greater
       stock in clever wordplay than the snots he'd grown up with, who
       didn't understand him or felt threatened by him or whyever
       they'd chosen to single him and his brother out for exclusion.
       Buncha-
       Schwambart realizes that his smile is slipping and replaces it.
       It isn't forced or anything, just...not quite his normal
       expression.  He'd come to terms with his advantages and
       disadvantages in life brought by his heredity and circumstances,
       and decided he was probalby better off this way.  It sounds like
       that's what Snow had decided as well, splitting off so
       completely from her beginnings, though she at least had the
       money to get started.  What could he have done in her pla-
       It doesn't bear further thinking about.  The fact is that it
       didn't happen, and it wouldn't happen unless he made it happen.
       He may yet, at some point...
       "Yeah, that sounds like the kind of dream I could get behind.
       Money, power, friends..."  Everything he didn't have growing up.
       "And if you can get it, why not?  Sounds like you're on your
       way.  Just gotta stick with it."  He flashes a grin at her.
       "And if you can have a little fun on the way, all the better."
       "Nothing wrong with talking about it.  Getting excited about it.
       Heck, you've got me rooting for you already.  Never did get
       much into sports, too expensive for me, though I did play a
       couple of years of tennis..."  He shakes his head.  Anyway, he
       has questions to answer.  "I don't have an income to speak of
       yet, but I brought with me enough bits for, at 100 bits a month,
       at least 3 months rent, maybe 4 if I stretch out my spending.
       Brought it so I could get myself re-established as an artist,
       maybe pick up some part-time work to complement that.  Should be
       able to keep it up pretty well after that, though commission
       work is always a bit hard to consistently predict accurately.
       Still shouldn't be a problem."  Right?  Right.
       "I'm not sure I understand what you mean by reservations, but I
       can at least assure you that I have no criminal record.  Good or
       bad, whichever you want to take it as, my interests never really
       put me on the far side of the law.  Mature or not I'll let you
       judge," he says with a wink, "but immature doesn't always
       coincide with illegal.  As for sharing space..."  He withdraws
       himself up as small as he possibly can, reducing his apparent
       size by a surprising amount.  "I grew up sharing a bedroom with
       my three older brothers, and my five younger sisters all used
       the same bedroom for years.  We're all pretty good at sharing
       space and other things, and if you'd like you won't even know
       I'm here."
       *****************************************************
   DIR Next Page