I'm writing a story on FIMFiction about Vinyl Scratch giving a tour on Las Pegasus. Here's the draft to the prologue. ------------------------------------------------------------ >''Good morning Las Pegasus! It's 7:00 o'clock, and what a beautiful day ahead of us! For the first time all month, we're seeing clear skies, not a single cloud on sight! Spring, what do you think about this?'' >''A wonderful day indeed, Winter! And the morning's getting started! This weather makes me very excited for the rest of the day!'' >''You know what I'm excited for? Vinyl Scratch, aka, DJ-PON3, leading the Summer Festival! Tune up for an exclusive interview, TODAY, only on, Pegasus Network!'' As the Blue Hour came to an end, the first rays of sunlight interacted directly with the 41st floor of the Kir Royale. Through the shattered window facing the beach, the roof was first. Tiled with white marble, it curved up slightly; at the center, several colored wires peeked through a large rectangular hole. After a few minutes, the walls adjacent to the windows cast the outline of a hallway. It led to an elevator, its gate had been dented inward in the shape of a hoof. Soon, a few minutes had passed, and with it, the shadows of the room lowered just enough to expose the contents of the top floor. Several pieces of clothing, including a leather jacket, two pairs of jeans, a black sparkly dress, and a white suit, were all laid over the black carpet covering the floor. The white suit, in particular, showcased several bloodstains on the sleeves. Clear signs of a party the night before. As for the party guests? They were still present. A black wooden table in the center had been pierced in the head of a blue stallion lying face down. Dried blood ran down his broken nose, staining a white dust running down his left nostril. His left arm had been bent outward in a way it shouldn't bent. To the left of him, a red pegasus mare laid motionless, crushed by a luxurious diamond-encrusted chandelier that was at least two and a half times her size. Several of these diamonds had pierced through her skin, and the largest gem had penetrated her lower abdomen. On the center bed, opposed to the hallway and in between the circular windows, were two green unicorns. Twins, most likely. The one on the left, lied flat on his back, with a wide-open dislocated jaw. The one on the right, she laid on her side, her hindlegs limping on the edge of the bed. A pair of circular marks were still present around her neck, just barely hidden by a leather belt. A discolored set of purple pupils peered through her barely-open eyelids. In fact, none of the guests were breathing. In addition to this, were a mix of empty glass bottles, glass shards, pills of varying colours and shapes, a broken flatscreen TV, gold and silver chains of jewelry and diamonds, bolts and screws that belonged to the chandelier frame, and last but not least, a collection of pornographic movies and magazines. All of this, scattered through the floor hap-hazardly, requiring precise maneuvering to navigate through it. Like walking through a mine field. A vibrating, muffled, buzzing noise suddenly interrupted the howling wind coming. The noise originated from somewhere in the bedsheets, which had somehow made their way to the hallway floor. As dark as they were, the light shining from the source of the noise could be seen, pulsating every so often. The luxury of living at the top floor came with the benefits of complete isolation. Being one of the tallest skyscrapers in Las Pegasus, the top floor was only accesible via the 40th floor, which served as the reception. Fittingly, it had the shape of a hallway, with the entrance to the top floor right at the middle left wall, and red paint splitting the black walls horizontally. Opposite to the middle elevator was a bar, that could barely fit a pony behind the counter. Two stacks of cocktail glasses facing down were neatly and evenly placed over the polished black marble bar. Seems to be a recurring theme. Behind the counter, a small sink had been installed just underneath the marble, which made it awkward to rinse the glasses. Next to it, were two refrigerators, which were currently empty. Against the wall, were six empty shelves, spacious enough to fit even the tallest of liquour bottles. It was also wide enough, to fit as many as 30 bottles side by side. A flat TV screen occupied the space in between the shelves by being attached directly to the wall. ''DING'', said the elevator on the left. As the gates opened, a pulling cart strolled into the hallway. It carried three rectangular-shaped boxes, which were tall enough to hide the pony push behind. For Moscow, this was another day on the job. Another mess to clean up. As the elevator doors closed behind him, he immediately noticed the strong smell of sweet perfume in the air. This wasn't the smell of CleanOxy, used to mop the floor. It was hard to discern between the sweet citric notes and the overwhelming scent of cinnamon; could it be L'Amour Interdit by Madame Lune? A noise also broke the silence in the normally-quiet hallway floor. A breathing noise. Not his calm, relaxed respiration. But rather a troubled, labored one. He took two steps, to further examine the situation. A trail of hooves, imprinted in blood, emerged from the middle elevator, and reached around the entrance of the bar. His bar. He didn't say a word. This wasn't the first incident where in a customer had clawed its way out of the 41st floor. He simply followed the trail, peaking into his bar from the corner. Underneath it all lied a familiar white unicorn, with a familiar messy blue neon mane. Her closed eyes were covered by a pair of broken, purple glasses. Particularly, it was the glass on the right, exposing a bruised and swollen right eye. A broken blue headset lied right beside her. Surprisingly, it still played music, albeit barely above background noise. Moscow, stared blankly at her. It was not the first time someone had woken up inside the bar. His bar, actually. He approached the mare slowly and reached her hoof into her shoulder. When he noticed that she was drooling a mix of saliva and blood, he reconsidered it for a second. Hopefully, it wouldn't take long to sober her up. That's when her eyes opened on their own, well, her right eye tried to but gave up halfway through. Her bright, blue, neon eyes, met his bloodshot, dilated green. A lack of sleep and a dose of K-A will do that to anyone. ''Hey'', he spoke softly. ''Vinyl, right?''. Unlike the other pretentious douchebags he had the unpleasantry of meeting in the past, he actually recognized this mare as DJ-PON3. Her eyes kept staring, unresponsive at him ''Uhm...blink if you can hear me''. She blinked right away. Vinyl had a reputation for being mute, but at this point, just breathing through her mouth was difficult enough as is. ''Blink once for yes, twice for no, got it?''. For Moscow, though, it wasn't the first drug-induced paralysis he'd witnessed in his bar. Vinyl blinked once. ''Can you move?''. She closes her eyes, and after a deep sigh, she blinks twice. Moscow sighs in return. This was going to be a long day, and it was 7:55.