Littlest Painter Easel


                                            >The arcade was a cacophony of sound.

                                            >From the laser guns that blare triumphant dings with every landed shot, to the clickity clack of the local button mashers, it was a typical Saturday evening.

                                            >You listlessly make your way around the place, trying to find something worthwhile.

                                            >You've tried just about everything by now, but... you find something new today.

                                            >A claw machine, freshly installed.

                                            >Inside are an array of colorful ponies with small turnkeys on their backs.

                                            >They looked like they were sleeping.

                                            >You usually wouldn't pay it much mind, but the sign catches your attention.

                                            >'A lifelike friend in the palm of your hand! Joyous Meadow's newest creation!'

                                            >Curiosity takes over as you survey the ponies inside.

                                            >Maybe... you could give it a shot? You know, for laughs.

                                            >You fork over a handful of quarters and start things up.

                                            >The claw wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, it was even surprisingly responsive.

                                            >You lock onto a cream colored mare who was dozing peacefully in the middle.

                                            >The claw lowers...

                                            >And the mare is grabbed.

                                            >You watch the claw take her to the hatch.

                                            >Once it arrives, it lowers the mare closer, before finally opening.

                                            >You put your hand into the slot quickly, catching the pony before she can hit the bottom.

                                            >You're not sure *why* you felt like you needed to do that, but you did.

                                            >With your prize in hand, and a somewhat smug feeling of beating a claw machine on your first try, you decide to go outside to get some fresh air.

                                            >It was cool and the crickets were chirping.

                                            >Might as well see what this thing does, huh?

                                            >You take the fist sized pony and turn her key a few times.

                                            >You sit down at the edge of the arcade parking lot and set her in front of you.

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >...Yeah, you don't know what you were expecting.

                                            >You get up with a sigh, intent on just leaving her there for some kid to grab.

                                            >At least you beat that dumb cl-

                                            >"H-hey! Where are you going?"

                                            >You pause and then look around, before finally looking down at...

                                            >A very upset looking mare.

                                            >"J-just wait! P-please?"

                                            >...Who is talking to you.

                                            "I uh... Hello?"

                                            >She lets out a sigh of relief.

                                            >"Oh thank goodness... H-hello winner! I'm prize number forty-three: Plein Air Easel!"

                                            >She lowers her head, her ears drooping. "But... but just Easel is fine..."

                                            >This- This doesn't seem like canned responses.

                                            >She looks pretty bummed, maybe she thought...

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Christ, I'm sorry, I didn't think you were... you know."

                                            >You kneel down and give her a warm smile.

                                            "How about we try this again, It's nice to meet you, Easel. I'm Anon."

                                            >"And- And I'm Easel! ...S-sorry! I didn't need to repeat that..."

                                            "It's okay, you did good."

                                            >You extend a hand onto the ground and she stares at you with widened eyes.

                                            >After a minute, she happily trots into your hand and you bring her up to eye level.

                                            "I hope we can still be friends."

                                            >She gives a meek smile.

                                            >"Of course! That's... That's what I'm here for."

                                            "Hey Easel, how about we head home?"

                                            >"Thank you, I'd like that... Anon."


                                            >The walk home was a quiet one.

                                            >Is was getting late and the streetlights illuminated your path.

                                            >On your shoulder sat your new friend, Easel, who has perked up considerably.

                                            >She was humming a light tune, one that almost sounds familiar, but not quite.

                                            >You took the scenic route home, simply because you thought Easel would like it more, and from her occasional mumbles about the types of trees and brush she saw, you assume she did, at least to some degree.

                                            >As you finally make it to your front door, you let out a sigh.

                                            "Alright, here we are, I'll get things unlocked."

                                            >You let yourself in and throw your keys on the kitchen counter.

                                            >"I like your place. It's cozy!"

                                            >It was quite the homely home, huh?

                                            "You mind if I put you on the counter?"

                                            >She shakes her head and you gingerly set her on the kitchen counter.

                                            >Easel looks around the place. As she does, you make note of her wings, which was something you didn't pay much attention to before.

                                            "Do those... actually work?"

                                            >"Huh? Oh, these? I... I dunno."

                                            >She cranes her neck to see her wings, and much to her surprise and yours, they wiggle a bit.

                                            >"Maybe..."

                                            >She closes her eyes and her wings extend slowly.

                                            >After a few deliberate flaps she takes a deep breath.

                                            >"Okay, I got this..."

                                            >She proceeds to flap her wings once more, but this time it's much more rhythmic.

                                            >You watch in awe as the tiny mare starts to hover.

                                            >She ascends at a snails pace, but seeing her do it at all was impressive.

                                            >Easel opens her eyes and gives you a smile.

                                            >'W-wow I actually..."

                                            >She trails off as she glances down.

                                            >A panicked look then crosses her face and her flight starts to falter.

                                            >Despite only being a few inches off the ground, you put your hand under her to cushion her fall.

                                            >She plops into your hand and you can feel her heart pound.

                                            "Are you alright?"

                                            >She sits up and rubs the back of her neck.

                                            >"Y-yeah, but I think I overestimated myself..."

                                            "Well, at least now you know, right? It'll be a process, but you'll get used to it."

                                            >Easel nods and then crawls out of your hand.

                                            >"I hope so. But... I think I'll just stay on the ground for now."

                                            >She sits down and you ponder something.

                                            "So... What do you do, anyway?"

                                            >Easel taps her chin before answering. "I uhm, I'm supposed to be good at painting..."

                                            >She sounds uncertain.

                                            "Have you ever painted before?"

                                            >She hides her face behind her droopy mane. "I-I... No."

                                            "I think I have a little watercolor kit in a drawer somewhere, you can give it a shot."

                                            >Easel sits up a little straighter. "I... I'd like that."

                                            >You search a few drawers before you find the kit, which you set in front of Easel, who stares at it intently.

                                            >But where will she draw?

                                            >Hmm...

                                            >Ah, you know.

                                            >You take a stroll on over to a closet by the front door, which you know for a fact has a few of your dad's old wood miniatures in a box.

                                            >You open the box and rummage around a bit, finding exactly what you were looking for.

                                            >A little easel for little Easel!

                                            >You're sure she'll love this.


                                            >You set the easel in front of Easel, who's eyes widen.

                                            "Gimme a sec, I'll get you some water and paper."

                                            >Specifically the white construction paper you had lying around, since that probably would last longer than loose-leaf.

                                            >You'll get something more suitable the next time you go out, but for now this should do.

                                            >You cut down the paper to size and end up with a small stack of mini canvases.

                                            >You hand over everything over to Easel, who is grinning ear to ear.

                                            >"I-I'll do my best! But... What should I paint?"

                                            "Well, you could start with something small... maybe some trees?"

                                            >The palette you gave her had some nice green in it after all.

                                            >She mumbles something along the lines of 'I wanna draw... pine trees' to herself.

                                            >She nods to herself and then opens up the watercolor kit, and you now just realize how big the brush is compared to her.

                                            >How is she ever going to-

                                            >Easel picks up the brush with her mouth and deftly dips it into the shot glass of water you gave her, and then she proceeds to drip a little water on each of the colors.

                                            >After that, she narrows her eyes at the canvas in front of her.

                                            >Huh, you guess that's how.

                                            >Easel sides eyes you a few times before turning away completely.

                                            >She fidgets with her mane a bit. "Can... can you look away for awhile? I-I want it to be a surprise... If that's okay."

                                            "Oh! Sure, I'll come back in a few, just yell if you need something."

                                            >She nods and starts staring once more at her blank canvas.

                                            >You decide to go wash up in the mean time, it's almost time to hit the hay after all.

                                            >Once you make it to the bathroom, you stretch a bit.

                                            >You then start to brush your teeth, lost in thought.

                                            >It's been a weird night, huh?

                                            >You go to the arcade with the intent of having some dumb fun and end up winning an entire person.

                                            >Well, technically pony with a key on her back, but that still can't be ethical!

                                            >She has a freaking heartbeat for crying out loud!

                                            >Sure, she's a bit tiny but you can't really see her as a 'prize'. It just doesn't feel right.

                                            >You don't even know how to feel about all those other ponies in that claw machine...

                                            >You just hope whoever gets them has some sort of functioning conscience.

                                            >You pat the sides of your face and clear your throat.

                                            >Just worry about Easel, she's here now, and you should make her feel welcome, alright?

                                            >You'll make sure she's happy, that's the least you can do.

                                            >You take a quick shower and change, after that, you poke your head out to check on Easel, who seems to be nervously looking around, but she doesn't spot you.

                                            >You walk out into the living room and you watch her take a deep breath and wave you down.

                                            >"H-hey! I uhm, I finished!"

                                            >You make your way over as she takes she canvas off the easel.

                                            >She clutches it to her chest and stares at the floor.

                                            >"It's- It's not good but.. I made it for you a-and thanks for uhm... letting me stick around..."

                                            >She hesitantly turns it around and you smile.

                                            "Those are some funky trees."

                                            >Easel giggles a bit.

                                            >"They sure are!"