Post by blues on Dec 4, 2012 1:42:47 GMT -6
||| BLUES NOTEWORTHY |||
#Name; Blues Noteworthy
#Age Group ; Stallion
#Gender ; Male
#Species; Earth pony
#Cutie Mark ;
Two pairs of barred eighth notes. Their being backwards signifies Blues' specific preference for jazz, which tends to turn classical rules on their head.
#Occupation ; Musician when he can be...and waiter the other 80 percent of the time.
#Powers and Abilities ; Blues' primary talent is writing and performing music, mostly of the jazzy persuasion. He plays the piano, saxophone, and guitar, and has a decent singing voice. He's also quite the smooth-talker.
#Physique ; Blues has a fairly unremarkable physique, looking no more or less built than the average stallion. He is on the leaner side, not quite reaching 'Carrot Cake' levels of lankiness, but certainly not the kind of pony one could call bulky.
#Mane and fur color and style ; True to his name, Blues' fur is entirely blue. His coat is of a mid-shade, not too dark and not too light; his mane and tail are a darker blue, matching the color of his cutie mark. He keeps both short, and their natural straightness ends up creating a somewhat spiky style.
#Eye color ; In contrast to the rest of his body, Blues' eyes are not any shade of blue at all, but instead a deep, golden yellow.
#Other appearance details (optional) ; Whether he realizes it or not, Blues is usually leaning on something, be it a table, a doorway, another stallion...at any rate, he possesses a curious propensity to not be perfectly upright.
#Personality ;
No other word describes Blues quite as well as 'smooth.' It's an adjective that applies to almost every aspect of his behavior and mannerisms, from the way he moves to the way he speaks. He is a very gregarious pony, not really one to keep to himself very long. (There is a notable exception, but we'll discuss that in a bit.) It is largely from this constant interaction that Blues has learned to talk as skillfully as he does. Whether it's to get something or simply to chat, he certainly has a way with words; and he's not above flirting to get what he wants, though he's not proud of that if somepony brings it up. It's easy to interpret almost /all/ of his behavior as flirting, in fact, which can lead to problems when such impressions aren't entirely appropriate. However, ponies who stick around will discover a stallion who's more than eager to make and keep a friend.
As mentioned above, there is a specific time that Blues tends to isolate himself, and that is when he is writing music. Though he's stuck working in food service for the time being, Blues spends vast amounts of his free time writing his own music, mostly his beloved jazz. He hates being interrupted while he's doing this, as his creative train of thought is easily derailed by other ponies. The opposite applies when he's playing it, however, as there is literally nothing Blues likes more than anypony listening to his music. (A good way to get on his good side is to ask to listen to it of your own volition; he's just that little bit vain.)
Of course, there are less savory aspects to Blues. For one, he is rather sensitive, particularly where his music is concerned. While his casual demeanor will often hide it, he will likely not forget any insult or slight, and enough of these in his direction will bring about his more vengeful side. When angered, Blues also has a tendency not to think so much about the consequences of what he's saying anymore, leading him to cross certain boundaries that he may regret later on. But most ponies won't get him upset enough to be on the receiving end of more than a sarcastic remark or two, and most will find him to be an agreeable, easygoing pony.
#History ;
Blues was the first foal born to the newlywed Treble and Minuetta Noteworthy, a piano teacher and maker (respectively) from Fillydelphia. The pair worked almost exclusively from home, meaning that their son grew up surrounded by music, both from his parents and their clientele. Almost as soon as he could walk and talk, Blues was being taught piano by his father. He enjoyed playing, but as he transitioned from foalhood to colthood, the young pony began to grow weary of it. He wasn't sure why, but it was just starting to get boring. It hadn't occurred to him that everything his parents were teaching him was firmly rooted in classical music, as in their household, there really wasn't room for anything else. Thus, to his parents' dismay, Blues began to grow distant, even acting out on occasion.
Assuming that their son's growing indifference had something to do with the ponies he was hanging around with in Fillydelphia, Blues' parents decided to move to the quieter Ponyville, where much of the material for Minuetta's pianos originated. The change of scenery had little effect on Blues, and Treble and Minuetta grew increasingly concerned for their wayward son.
One day, however, the colt overheard strange music coming from a piano in the first-floor shop of their home. The structured, organized cadences of the music he'd been taught were mashed up, turned upside-down, or forgotten entirely; notes hit on off-beats and chords he'd never heard melded seamlessly into one another. It turned out to be a prospective customer looking to buy a piano, and after the sale was done, Blues wondered if that same unusual music could be played on a different piano.
That night, he tried after his parents had gone to bed. By morning, his cutie mark had appeared.
His parents' reactions were mixed, to say the least. They were both relieved that to see Blues finally putting his heart into something constructive (not to mention musical) again, though his choice of genre was somewhat distressing to them. Nonetheless, as years passed and Blues adamantly refused to end this 'phase,' the Noteworthys ultimately were forced to accept the introduction of the musical theorist's nightmare called 'jazz' to their household. By comparison, their son bringing his first coltfriend home barely made ripples. Before long, he'd acquired an alto saxophone, which became his new favorite instrument. He's gone through a couple guitars and two pianos, but this saxophone has remained.
Blues moved out as soon as he was old enough, eager to make his own way and forge a musical career. Once his parents moved back to Fillydelphia a year or so after, he was largely on his own; he has since learned to make do, taking gigs wherever and whenever he can while holding down a waiter job at a restaurant in Ponyville. Though he's considered moving to a larger city, he always ends up deciding to stay, as the town has become, in his eyes, his true hometown. So, with his trusty saxophone in one hoof and a some blank staff paper in the other, Blues is plunging headfirst into the world and hoping for the best.The Roleplayer's Corner
#Nickname ; I usually go by Remy, but I'll answer to that or Blues.
#Age ; 19
#Gender ; Male
#How did you find us? ; A little bird told me. Also, the bird played Rarity here.
#Sample RP ;
{A post done as my OC, Kale, for another site.}
It had been one of those nights.
After getting home, Kale's uncle had--naturally--extracted an explanation of what he was doing making deliveries so late at night. After giving one just long enough to satisfy, Kale had practically fled upstairs, to where he could safely fret without anypony looking. He didn't have much packed--aside from being a light traveler, he'd left most of his clothing in Manehattan--but he managed to think it needed checking at least half a dozen times. Even after the seventh time, he was still certain he'd forget something.
It'd be just like him to forget something on a weekend this important.
After getting ready to sleep and checking what he'd packed an eighth time, Kale got into bed and proceeded to not fall asleep for what seemed like ages. Instead, the pegasus tossed, turned, stared at the ceiling, stared at the window, counted sheep, and generally grew increasingly annoyed at himself for not being asleep already. At one point, he felt like he'd just woken up, but he could not tell how long he'd slept, or even be sure if he had at all. He certainly didn't feel well-rested.
Deciding that this was just going to drive him insane, Kale threw off the covers and went to go look at a clock. "Thank Celestia," he muttered when he saw it was about time to get up, anyways; the sooner he was free of waiting for the weekend to happen, the better. Shuffling blearily to the stairs, the pegasus pony passed a mirror and stopped. His mane, despite generally looking unkempt, somehow managed to look even more so today. Frowning, he tried to straighten it up a bit with a hoof, but the end result was just his dusty brown hairs falling into a different sort of messy. Giving up with a sigh of exasperation, he headed downstairs, made himself an omelet, ate it, went back upstairs, did his best to look less fatigued, checked his bags a ninth time, and finally left for Carousel Boutique.
He flew, knowing that the speed and wind would help wake him up. Winging his way over Ponyville, most of which was still asleep, was surreal; he couldn't help but think that where he was headed, this peacefulness could never exist. He only hoped that Applejack would be able to adapt. (Somehow, he had trouble imagining Rarity finding it difficult.) Coming to as soft a landing as he could manage, Kale walked the few extra paces to the door of the boutique and gave it a soft knock.
Hopefully the mares had had a better night than he.
