The Jazzy Fillyfooling Group Collab

by The Princess Rarity

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Octavia
Length: 21670

Prompts written about jazzy fillyfoolers by The Jazzy Fillyfoolers Group!

Spanning from one hundred to one thousand words, with unexpected words leading them on their journey of writing, it's a lot of (unconnected) mini stories about the shipping of whatever jazzy fillyfooling pairs that this crazy group can think up! (Although, it's pretty much gonna be OctaScratch, because they're a sexy pairing.)

Written by pretty much everypony in this awesome group, turn on some music, pull up a chair and enjoy the chapters, my friend!

Published 2013-05-01 18:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-26 19:32:08 UTC

Smile - Syvvak

I couldn’t help it. I knew what I did was wrong. I just couldn’t stop myself. She had always looked down on me. She never noticed me unless it benefited her, whether it be me doing something for her she found beneath her ‘holiness’ or her making fun of me to make herself feel better. I always helped. Don’t know why... well, I did. She was the most beautiful mare I had ever seen and I would do anything for her, but she didn’t feel the same. I don’t think she liked mares... oh well. This isn’t about that. This is about something I shouldn’t have done... I think.

Well, I was on my way home from the club I was working at (I did some tech setups for the DJ's since I was too young to work the decks but had better knowledge (and skill) than most ponies). One of the preppy colts was having a party the same night. I passed his house on the way to mine. Now, I didn’t want to go. Couldn’t stand the guy. But, as I passed, I saw two ponies cross the hedges to a small vacant lot just next door, farther up the road.

Now, I’m one to respect other ponies privacy. Don’t want ‘em all up in my shit, why would they want me all up in theirs? But, as I was walking passed I heard her voice. It was slightly slurred, but I recognized it. I stopped, trying to figure out what was being said.

“I-I don’t know,” she was saying. It was just a few seconds before a deeper voice responded.

“Come on, Octavia.” Him. That stupid, stuck-up, better-than-thou, richie-bitch piece of shit. I started to walk away, not wanting to have to hear that pathetic excuse for a life forms words, when he continued, giving me pause. “We have been together for four months now, I think I deserve this by now.” His voice was insistent, if not a bit forceful.

I had never liked him. He rubbed his wealth in everyone’s faces. Well, not his wealth, his daddy’s wealth. Same shit.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” Octavia replied. I slunk closer, trying to catch a view of her. When she came into my sight, she was radiant. The moon caused her mane to shimmer like a black pearl. Her coat seemed to glow from within. The only thing wrong was her eyes. They were gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but they were frightened. Looking closer, she seemed to be shaking, and wobbling a bit.

“Well, I am.” The rich bastards voice broke the spell of her beauty. I hate his voice. It’s kinda nasally and gravelly. I don’t know. I don’t like it, that’s all that matters. “And you will give it to me.”

“I’ll tell everyone.” She was slowly backing up. I decided to walk in the shadows. Try and get closer, just in case.

“They won’t believe you. And, if they do, I won’t get in any trouble. They are scared of my father.” I really hate this guy. “Besides, you won’t remember tonight.”

“I’ll scream.” She backed into a wall.

“Everyone will think they are screams of pleasure. Just give up. You ar-” CRACK!

I stopped, not believing what I saw. Octavia had bucked him in the jaw, and it sounded like it broke. He screamed. Oh, Luna, it was such a girly scream. It was funny. Well, until Octavia started to panic. She started to run out of the little alcove created by the hedges. As she approached the entrance, some guards came. I wasn’t that far from where Tavi had been standing when she kicked the sick bastard in the face. I stood there as a guard held a trembling Octavia, trying to figure out what happened, and the other rushed over to the colt.

Octavia couldn’t get a full sentence. It was “He... I did... but...”. Stuff like that. The guard nearest to me jotted something down on a piece of paper and teleported it away. They knew who the colt was. Everyone did. Octavia was in trouble. She just broke one of the most influential ponies in Canterlot’s jaws, and no one, but her and him, knew why. He would win in court. She would lose everything. Nobody could defend her.

The guards tried to ask her what happened, but she couldn’t answer. She was distraught and drunk (which would also come back to bite her in the ass, underage drinking and all). She was done. They would take her to jail. She would lose all standing she had worked to earn. She would never play for the orchestra like she dreamed. And it wasn’t even her fault. More guards showed up, with a doctor in tow. Then his dad arrived. He demanded she be taken to jail for her crimes.

I saw it. Her dreams crushed before her eyes. Everything she worked for, lost. She looked around. Ponies had gathered. They were watching. She saw her friends in the crowd. She also saw that they wouldn’t help her. Nopony would.

“I did it.” The guards that were leading her to the carriage gave pause. What the fuck am I doing? I stepped out of the shadows. I saw her look at me, disbelief in her eyes. Everyone looked at me with disbelief. It was chaotic. Everyone started shouting, yelling that I be arrested for what I did. They didn’t care about my side of the story. My looks said it all. My wild blue hair, my outrageous glasses, my red eyes. I was guilty.

As the guards led me to the ride to my new home, I saw it. Her friends were holding her (since it wasn’t her who hurt him, they could still be friends. Worthless fucks) and she was crying. But she was looking at me. I saved her dreams. I just kept her from losing everything, at the cost of everything, and she acknowledged it. Did I care? No. Well, that I lost everything, I didn’t care. That she was happy, yes.

But as the guards were pushing me to the carriage, they knocked off my glasses. They tossed me in the seat and slammed the door. I looked through the barred window at the gathered ponies. I saw the glares, the scowls. I didn’t care. I looked around for my glasses. They weren’t overly important. Got ‘em to hide my eyes. Nothin’ more. I found them after a minute. She was holding them. She had gotten away from her friends. She looked at me, my glasses in her hooves. My red eyes met her lavenders for the first time. Then, she smiled. Not a smug “Haha, fuck you” smile, a “Thank you, I will remember this” smile.

I got out later in the week. I told them what happened (substituted with me kicking him). I don’t think they believed me. I got a years probation and one hundred hours community service (not to mention what I got from my parents). As I walked out of the courthouse, she was standing there. No one was around. Just me and her. I slowly approached her. She passed me my glasses, giving me that smile. I smiled back. Then, I kissed her. I don’t know why. I didn’t even know if she liked mares, let alone me. It was wrong of me. She may have had that ‘knight in shining armor syndrome’ or whatever. But, like I said, I couldn’t help it.

As I lie here in bed thinking back on that day, I feel a small shifting on my back. I roll over as the shifting subsided. I look at Octavia’s face, wrapped in the calm of sleep. Was it wrong of me to kiss her? Was it wrong of me to take the fall for something I didn’t do, in hopes it would get her to notice me (is that why I did it? I don’t really know)? I don’t know. But things worked out in the end, so who cares.

I nuzzled her gently, whispering, “I love you, Tavi."

Still sleeping, she smiled.

Music - psp7master

Two hundred notes make a melody.

Melody is complex and discrete; it is the beacon of light in the ever-darkened abyss of life. Melody is what makes life worth living.

Two notes make a fifth.

Octavia placed her hoof on the strings, carefully playing two notes simultaneously - a challenging task for a cellist. The C came out clean and intense, but the G was muddled and vague. She frowned, playing the interval again. The grey mare smiled. Now, it was perfect.

Three notes make a chord.

Dropping the bow, the mare finally gave in to the newfound passion of jazz, strumming the strings with her right hoof, playing the chord of all chords, the chord of joy and happiness - C major.

Four notes make a seventh chord. A jazz chord.

The smooth, gentle sound of grand piano enveloped the room, soothing the cellist's ears. With a smile, she took a glance at the white unicorn mare playing a simple jazz chord progression.

A sequence of single notes makes a solo.

Octavia joined in with a broken pentatonic scale, her hoof running along the neck swiftly, accentuating the upbeat notes. It was an improvisation. It was a life.

Two hundred notes make a melody. A symphony. Unity.

Two hundred notes bring ponies together. Under the gloomy skies of Manehattan, two hundred notes are enough to invigorate anypony for the rest of the day. In one flat, two hundred notes helped two mares fall in love.

Is there anything more to ask?

"Hey, Vinyl?" Octavia said, breaking the tune.

"Huh?" The pianist blinked, revealing her red eyes.

"You are my melody."

Denial - Syvvak

Vinyl sat on the park bench. A soft breeze blew through her mane. There was no way this could be happening. Birds were singing. It couldn’t be possible. The sun was setting, casting an orangish-purple tint to the clouds. Vinyl didn’t notice any of this.

She was sitting in the cafeteria at lunch earlier that day when she was approached. That in itself was an oddity; nopony ever talked to her, unless it was a teacher or to make fun of her. But who it was caught her at a loss for words: Octavia Philharmonica. Octavia was one of the most talented students in the school. Everyone said she would become lead cellist of the Canterlot Orchestra shortly after she graduated. Vinyl was nopony.

Vinyl still couldn’t believe it. She had sat down and talked to her. Not at her, to her. When the bell rang, signaling lunch was over (Vinyl hadn’t even had a chance to eat), she asked Vinyl if she wanted to catch a show with her. She said she had an extra ticket because her friend had something come up. Vinyl nodded, not really knowing what to do, and Octavia told her to meet her at the bench on the north side of the park at eight that night.

So, there Vinyl sat. She expected it to be a set-up; for Octavia to not show and laugh about it the next day. Things never went right for her. Octavia was probably laughing right now at how Vinyl thought she was actually gonna be her friend.

Vinyl looked at her watch, having lost track of time: eight thirty. I knew it. She wasn’t coming. Why did I think she actually cared? Standing up from the bench, Vinyl started to walk away, head low and her eyes filling with tears. She only got a few steps when she heard someone shout her name.

“Vinyl! Vinyl, I’m so sorry I’m late.” She turned around to the voice. “Father wouldn’t let me leave until I finished my homework, then it took me forever to find my dress.” Vinyl took the grey mare in: she had her pink bowtie on and was wearing an elegant black dress. She stood there and stared for a minute, unable to believe she was actually there.

“You look nice,” Vinyl said, still in disbelief.

“Thank you. So do you.” Vinyl was wearing a simple light blue dress with her hair combed back. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks for inviting me.” Vinyl walked up beside Octavia as they headed back into town.

“Well, you looked like you could use a friend.” They continued on in a companionable silence, prepared to enjoy the night, Vinyl finally having a friend to spend it with.

Disbelief - Blagdaross

The noise was noticeable a full block away from their destination. Not distinctly, Octavia couldn't actually make out what was playing. Which, in her mind was a blessing. Those damnable students they saddled her with wouldn't know real music if hit them in the face with a harpsichord. And now this crazy mare who always wore her sunglasses (so original) insisted on bringing her out to... here.

The sidewalks seemed to have more gum than cement. Not literally, but nevertheless.

"Trust me, this guy working tonight is the SHIT. You'll love it." Vinyl said, for about the fourteenth time.

"Why would I want to listen to excrement?" Octavia raise one eyebrow.

"No, I didn't say he's shit, I said he's THE shit. There's a difference."

Octavia raised the other eyebrow.

They got into the club quickly. There's never a line at the back door, but you do have to belong there. Same as a concert hall, really, except for the smell. No expensive liquor, overpriced perfumes or fine cheeses here. Just the stench of bodies. And that godawful noise.

The professor had asked his students to bring in samples of music they enjoy so that they could be shown how the basic principles of musical theory applied to all music, even popular music. Of course, it would be the teaching assistants doing the showing, so he would have to endure their abysmal tastes. Octavia was pretty sure the TAs were being punished, but had no idea why. Maybe Professor Sonata was just an evil bastard.

Of the four samples listed, only one singer had any ability to sing. One would think that, if one wanted a career in singing, where one sang, one would learn to sing. Apparently that's an old-fashioned idea now.

Vinyl lead Octavia past the detritus of the club. It was a curious mix of things; mysterious electronic equipment of unknown purpose, and crates or cheap liquor. Truly awful stuff for the most part. Octavia supposed if they have no taste in music, they might not have any taste in whiskey either. She was glad she ate beforehoof.

Vinyl opened the stage door. Octavia winced and cowered at the volume alone; It was atrocious. So was the song.

That's what makes you beautifuuuuuuul

If she ever met one of the ponies responsible for this crime, she would buck their jaw straight out of their face. In a ladylike manner.

Even Vinyl winced. "Why are they playing this shit? Where's Digital?" Octavia was covering her ears with her hooves. "Don't worry, this will all be over soon."

Even faster if we just left now.

Another pony squeezed past Octavia. Green colt, it was hard to see much else in the weird lighting, but he only gave Octavia a quick glance. He did hoofbump Vinyl, though, before stepping up to the equipment. He didn't bother with introductions; he simply started doing whatever it is one does with all those buttons.

The new song started with a simple rhythm. Just a thumping baseline and a couple drum machine line above. Every few bars, he would add a new sound, one new layer. It was not quite what Octavia had expected, it was...

"Stately," Vinyl yelled in her ear. Her eyebrows wiggled vigorously. Octavia had know idea what she was talking about.

The music proceeded. New sounds added, some taken away. It went on, maintaining only the lowest baseline. Then Digital started a new song. Same underlying baseline, maybe a hair quicker. Above that though, he laid in some strings.

Specifically, Marezart's Sonata in G Major. Octavia's jaw dropped.

The base was way too fast for the piece. Specifically, it was twice as fast as it should have been. Exactly twice as fast. Digital added some extra elements, but nothing that would distract from the main melody. Just theme and variations. Over thumping base, for no real reason.

The third movement was even more astonishing. It was that same horrid song from before but... good. Somehow, he took that ridiculous piece of amateurish drivel and made it better. All he really kept were the vocals, which sounded so tinny now you couldn't tell how bad or good the singer was, but he added a new melodic line that matched the rhythm of the lyrics perfectly.

By the fourth movement, Octavia almost knew what to expect: Presto, Rondo. Of course, the whole thing was presto, and the whole style lived on variations on a theme, but to find such a thing in a place like this...

After the fourth movement, Digital put a CD in and played something he had obviously made ahead of time. He walked back to Vinyl and gave her a warmer greeting, saying something in her ear. Vinyl introduced them.

"Digital, this is my classmate Octavia. Octavia, this is my coworker Digital. Octy, you can close your mouth now."

Manners - Terrasora

A table dotted with red, a fork coated with the remains of its last victim, a satisfied belch from the pony who had just committed an atrocity.

Octavia looked on in horror as Vinyl finished her meal. The unicorn leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs and picking at a piece of spaghetti lodged in her teeth.

“Great meal, Octy. Still don’t know how you cook like that.” Vinyl Scratch got to her hooves, walking into the living room and flopping onto the couch. Octavia didn’t even move. She had expected a far more pleasant evening with her fillyfriend, some nice conversation a few jokes, and then some dessert.

A perfectly good chocolate cake gone to waste, Octavia thought to herself. That mare will be asleep before I finish my own meal.

The cellist glanced at her full plate. Her mind was filled with the sound of slurped noodles and the sight of a lonely and ignored napkin. I’ll never be able to look at spaghetti the same way.

Octavia stored her meal in the refrigerator; Vinyl would eventually find her way to it. Indeed, it would probably be gone within the hour. But this time, Octavia thought in her most determined voice, Vinyl will eat rather than inhale her food.

***

Vinyl sat in front of the meal table. Well, it was at the moment only a table, considering that there was no meal on it. Instead, Octavia had laid out an assortment of forks, spoons, knives, and various colored pieces of cloth.

The grey mare was rubbing her eyes. “Okay, let’s go over this again.” She picked up the left-most fork.

“That’s a fork,” said Vinyl with a grin.

“And that’s the fourth time you’ve made that joke!”

“Aaaaaw, c’mon Octy. Remember that time you held up a spoon? That was fun.”

Octavia sighed, Honestly, what was I expecting? “Well, Vinyl that was a salad fork.”

“Octy, they’re all salad forks. We eat pretty much nothing but salad. And when we don’t eat salad, we eat pizza. Oooooo, which one’s the pizza fork?”

“There is no pizza fork!”

“Lame.”

The cellist rubbed her eyes again. “Okay then Vinyl, let’s make a deal. If you can prove that you can maintain your manners I will treat you to a restaurant of your choosing.”

Vinyl gasped excitedly. “Let’s go to Shakey’s! There’s one around here that still has games. And beer! Imagine it Octy, an arcade with BEER!”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant—“

“Salad fork, dinner fork, dessert fork (I would definitely use that), dinner knife, fish knife (but I’m not a pegasus so I wouldn’t use that), salad knife, soup spoon, fruit spoon, fish fork (still not a pegasus), and waaaay over there is the butter knife.” The DJ pointed at each utensil in turn, Octavia’s jaw dropping further and further at each name.

Vinyl looked up excitedly, “Now we have to go! Hurry up, before the place gets too packed!” She dashed up to her room, grabbing two scarves and running back down. Vinyl wrapped one of the scarves around a flabbergasted Octavia, kissed the cellist on the cheek and then ran outside.

“What… What just happened?” stammered Octavia.

Vinyl’s voice carried into the room. “C’mon Octy, move your sexy flank!”

The cellist shook herself out of her daze, again reminded to never ever underestimate Vinyl Scratch.

Cleaning - AcreuBall

A feeling of pure dread sank into Octavia the moment she bleared into consciousness. The purity of the the sheer terror she felt as she glanced around the living room of her parents house cut through all five layers of the most intense hangover she had experienced in recent memory, and struck right to her very core. Bottles covered every conceivable surface, and even a few others besides those. The only piece of furniture that was upright and in it's original position was the coffee table--though that was likely due to the fact that a different table had been placed on top of it, and upside down. And was covered with bottles.

The bottles being everywhere wouldn't have been so much of an issue, if they had all been standing upright, and had been mostly empty. Neither of those seemed true for the majority of cases. Octavia could see the spills on the couch from where she was, and her father's favorite antique chair was actually nowhere to be seen, but a mound of various things suggested it might be by the doorway, somewhere.

Still in shock, she got shakily to her hooves. One of her hind legs sloshed into a puddle of indistinguishable liquid that had pooled on the carpet. She gave a passing glance at the object which she had been using for a pillow, which turned out to be the doormat. These things receded into the background, however, as Octavia took in the sheer number of ponies strewn about the room, almost as haphazardly and covering nearly as much surface area as the bottles. A few stirred a bit, but none of them seemed completely awake yet. Octavia could pick out three of the four ponies who she had actually invited to the party, piled on the couch with several others that she had never met before. In fact, a quick survey revealed about one in seven to actually be ponies she had ever seen before.

Octavia spun around to go check the other rooms, but was interrupted by the floor rushing up to meet her face. A moment of flailing around revealed that the pile of blankets next to Octavia, that she had tried to walk though, actually contained a pony, who somehow had managed to get tangled up in Octavia's legs.

“Mmph-wha??” said the pony.

Octavia scrambled up and was about to apologize, until she saw who this pony was. It was the fourth pony Octavia had invited. The one that had convinced her having a party when her parents were away was nothing but an awesome idea. That nothing would go wrong. That the only thing better than a party with a few ponies was a party with a lot of ponies.

All the terror and panic drained from her body, and the initial shock of the situation went out like a light. The white unicorn before her brushed the bright blue mane from in front of her eyes, and made a noble, but unsuccessful effort to open them. Octavia's face went red, and her panic was replaced by a rage so intense it was nearly holy.

“VINYL SCRATCH!” Octavia roared, lancing out an accusatory hoof, which terminated a mere inch from the pony's nose.

Vinyl's body, though hungover to the point of being incapacitated, registered the very clear intent behind such a cry, and a primal instinct kicked in, rousing Vinyl to point of having at least half a chance at surviving the immanent mortal peril.

“Whaaa?!” was what Vinyl cried out, and flopped over on to her back shielding her face. Around the room, various other ponies made similar such noises, and the seven ponies that had been lying on the couch flopped ungraciously off of it.

Octavia grabbed Vinyl and pulled her to her hooves. “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Octavia shouted gesturing wildly around the room.

“Whaaa--oh Tavi, it's just you,” said Vinyl, finally opening her eyes. “See, just as you woke me up, I was having this dream where these manticores were chasing me through the streets of Ponyville--”

“YOU'VE DESTROYED MY HOUSE!” Octavia screamed in the unicorn's face.

“Maybe it was more of a premonition...”

Octavia grabbed her own head between her hooves. “AAARGHGH!”

“Alright, alright,” said Vinyl. She reached out a tentative hoof, and patted Octavia on the back. “There, there. It's not so bad!”

“Get your hoof off me!”

“Come on, this is nothing! I've seen way worse! And anyway,” Vinyl said, with an angled grin, “that's not what you said last night!”

Octavia froze, her face drained of colour, and then filled back up with red again. “I... whaa?” said Octavia, borrowing Vinyl's previous response.

“It's true, you know,” said a pony laying on the ground a ways away from them.

"Yeah, that was the hottest make out session I've seen in a long time!" said another, from the pile of ponies in front of the couch.

“See? Witnesses! Not even making it up!” said Vinyl. Then she blinked, and turned to the pony by the couch. "Wait, just how often do you watch ponies making out? That's weird, man. That's really weird. You shouldn't tell ponies you do that."

Octavia stuttered for a moment, gesturing vaguely, and then her eyes snapped back to Vinyl. “That's neither here nor there! What's here and there right now is the remnants of what used to be MY HOUSE!”

“Right, right. On it.” Vinyl turned to the room of hungover ponies that had been listening to the exchange between the two. “So. Yeah. Sweet party, right? But.. it's done now! So, go away!” She made a shooing motion with her hooves. “Out with you! Go now!” Ponies began muttering and shuffling out. Vinyl unceremoniously kicked a pony that was still asleep on the floor. “Out! And take some empties with you!”

With clinking and shuffling and groaning, the hungover party ponies filed out of the room, and soon it was just Vinyl and Octavia and the post-party entropy.

Vinyl went over to where Octavia was wallowing in a mixture of rage and panic and despair. “Um, so... maybe it wasn't exactly totally the absolute best idea I've ever had to throw a party at your house while your parents were gone.”

Octavia shot Vinyl a glance that may have incapacitated a lesser pony. “Okay, fine! It was a bad idea! Sorry!”

“Better,” Octavia said.

“It was a totally awesome party though, right?”

“I'm sure it would have been if I remembered any of it. Which is also your fault, by the way.”

“What? How was you getting way too drunk my fault?”

“ 'Hey Tavi, you're not drunk enough! Here, drink this!' ”

“...That does sound like something I'd say.”

They were quite for a moment. “Did we really... uh... do that kind of stuff last night?” asked Octavia.

“Um... yes. We made out. A lot.”

Another moment of silence.

“Is that... not okay?” asked Vinyl.

“Oh, uh, no. Well I...” Tavi looked away. “I just wish I remembered it better or something.”

“...Yeah. Me too.”

Octavia looked up at Vinyl, and then leaned over and kissed her. The kiss drew out for a few moments before they separated.

“Yeah,” said Vinyl. “Pretty sure it felt something like that.” They sat smiling at each other. Then Octavia's face hardened as she looked around the room again.

“I'm still not forgiving you for throwing that party until it's all cleaned up, though.”

“Whatever!” said Vinyl, still with a bit of a silly grin on her face. “Best party ever! We should throw another one sometime!”

“Would you like me to kiss you again?” Octavia asked. Vinyl blinked, uncomprehendingly. “...Ever again?” Octavia finished. “Ever?”

“Okay, point taken! Yeah! Clean-up time! Let's get some garbage bags, and we can get started. We'll be done in no time!” Vinyl looked around the room. “Okay, maybe bring all the garbage bags. And by 'no time' I mean likely all day. As in, with any luck, it won't take more than just today.”

Improvising - Syvvak

“Give me your lunch money, blank-flank.” A group of three young colts were grinning down deviously at a shaking grey filly. She looked around, hoping to see someone to come to her rescue. She didn’t.

“But, how am I suppose to eat?” she asked, hoping to appeal to their sympathies.

“Plenty of ponies throw food away,” the one at the front said, a cruel smirk plastered on his face. “Now, give it up.”

As the little grey pony reached into her bags for the bits, a voice was heard.

“Heya, fellas. How’s it goin’?” The filly looked up and saw a unicorn not much older than herself. She had a white coat, blue mane, and an outrageous pair of purple sunglasses hanging onto two of the colts necks.

“Not bad, Scratch. Gettin’ some lunch money. HURRY UP!! I WANNA EAT TODAY!!” The scared filly scramble to get the bits out.

“Didn’t ya guys bring your own money?” the newcomer asked.

“Well, ya, but we need more than what that can get to fill us up.” The mare was still rummaging around trying to find her bits.

“Oh, makes sense,” she said, releasing her grip on the two, returning to four feet. She started to walk towards the mare as she talked. “I remember, just the other day, I was getting money from this one puny colt. He was so adamant about not giving it to me.” She stopped in front of the younger pony, who stopped what she was doing and slowly looked at the unicorn. “Do you know what he did?” she asked the little mare, who shook her head, afraid of what was going to happen.

“He said, ‘I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY LUNCH MONEY! IF YOU WANT MORE FOOD, YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR PARENTS FOR MORE MONEY OR GET A JOB!” She turned around to look at the colts. “I couldn’t believe him. He shouted so loud, my ears were ringing. It was probably louder than what I just did. He seemed to get rigid when I took my glasses off-” she took off her glasses “-and took on a fighting stance.” She readjusted her feet, adopting what she assumed was a believable, intimidating defensive stance.

“I said to him, I says ‘Have you ever been to the arcade a block up from that really girly store?’ He shook his head and I said, ‘Well, it just ain’t gonna happen’.”

As she finished her story, all the ponies had looks of confusion on their faces. Before anyone could reply, a teacher ran around a corner. Having heard someone yelling, he rushed to check it out. As he crested the corner, he saw three colts standing over a cowering grey filly and a white unicorn trying to protect her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, as he sprinted up to stand beside the little white unicorn.

“Nothing, Mr. Turner. We were just talking to these la-”

“They were trying to take the new filly’s lunch money, Mr. Turner!” The brown pony looked at the gathering of colts.

“Really, Vinyl? Is this true, boys?” he asked, calmly. He had no anger in his voice, just calm.

The colts spluttered, trying to form an excuse. “That’s what I thought. You two may proceed to the lunch room. You three are going to see the principal. Allons-y.” He walked off, staying behind the three colts. As they rounded a corner, he shot Vinyl a glance. He gave her a smile and a nod. The smile seemed to have all the acceptance, appreciation, and respect a pony could hold.

Beaming, Vinyl turned back to the grey mare, who was still cowering on the floor. “You can get up now,” she said with a gentle smile. The grey mare raised her lavender eyes to look into the red ones.

“But, aren’t you gonna take my lunch money now?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Me? No. I don’t do that. I just had to distract them and yell so Mr. Turner could get here before they could do anything. I knew where he was, so I ju-” She was interrupted as the grey filly jumped up and wrapped her hooves around her neck.

“Thank you so much! I didn’t know what to do. I’m a stupid blank-flank who can’t protect herself.” At this last statement, she released Vinyl and looked down at the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m a blank-flank, too.” She turned to the side a little, revealing her pearly white side to be unmarked. “And you were in a new place, with new ponies. It scares anypony. Now, come on... I don’t know your name. I’m Vinyl Scratch.” She held out her hoof for the new pony to shake.

“I’m Octavia.” She shook Vinyl’s hoof and smiled.

“Well, Tavi, let’s go get some lunch. I’m starvin’.” She turned towards the cafeteria, her new friend walking beside her.

Snazzy - Lynked

I was sitting in a club, drinking something that seemed to drink me rather than the other way around. Music played, I looked good, I was with a pretty mare, and I felt out of place. Vinyl Scratch felt out of place. It was beyond me why I had to be dressed in this itchy blue dress; though Octy looked good in that little red dress of hers, I admit. Even so, here I was, watching a philihar… her… harpoon or something. But they were playing classical jazz. And the servers served this amber stuff that burned on its way down.

I had no idea where I was.

Octy was humming along and bobbing her head and seemed to have pulled that stick out of her flank. Her hoof tapped along with the beat as she played along.

I had no idea what was going on.

I scrunched my face a bit in thought. Octy had told me to get dressed in the best thing I had—apparently socks and a corset weren’t what she meant—and then ushered me, me out to a club. A club that served this amber stuff and played classical jazz. I don’t even like jazz. It’s a drunken mix of a saxophone and ground up rocks.

Speaking of drunken mixes, my little cellist was up there grinding rocks on behalf of the others. Couldn’t really call it playing the cello because, well, I don’t know if it even counted as playing, but the others behind her seemed to share my thoughts, even if it really was them who asked her up there in the first place. Still, it was more like she was rubbing sticks to create fire than playing an instrument. And it was embarrassing. See, something most don’t quite understand is that she may be famous, but when you give her brandy on the rocks, she plays what sounds like rocks, and she knows it too. I could see that crimson blush on her face as she tried to match the tempo and rhythm and beat and failed. I watched her from my corner booth—which was, of course, too freaking fancy—and sipped on my brandy.

The whole of the elite there, and there seemed to be a lot of them, were looking at her with raised eyebrows, noses, and stuck-upity. Snobs. I snorted and downed the rest of my drink, standing from my booth and blowing the center candle out. From the corner of my eye, through the annoyingly dim light and through these fancy-shmancy ponies I could see Fancy Pants heading up the stage, his eye on Octavia. He and his coattail could bite my blue-dressed flank. I hurried through the music and cantered onto the stage. The music cut short.

There was a nasty look in Octavia’s eyes. She was glaring at Fancy Pants, then to the audience, which mumbled something about her being ‘intoxicated’. I ignored them and trotted to Fancy Pants, who was trying to escort Octavia offstage before she ‘embarrassed herself’. “Hey, bud,” I said, “lay off. She’s fine.”

Octy gave me that dirty look. I shrugged. “This just isn’t her style. She’s not drunk. Watch. Octy, put your hooves, here, and here, no, a little up and--not there! On the cello!” I whispered, blushing.

She looked set up. Fancy watched, probably in awe at my hoofwork. Octy was ready to grind some more rocks. I sighed. “See? She’s fine. She’s just got to get into the, uh, groove. Or something.”

The philiharpoon behind her grumbled. They were small and probably didn’t matter so I didn’t pay attention to them anyway. “Look, Octy, follow along. You got this. Get, y’know, snazzy or something. That’s what you said right? This place is ‘snazzy’?”

She huffed and looked like she was about to fall down, but I caught her and stood her up, pulling the microphone to me with my magic. “Be fancy and follow me,” I whispered.

Then I looked to the band. They glared at me, but they are oh so posh and would never make a scene, so they readied their bows and brass and rocks. Meantime, yours truly was about to put to work those skills she’d learned as a foal. I took the center stage, hummed the melody a bit to get the tempo, and then started.

"I don't want to set the world... on... fire~"

Later we were back in that booth, her head on my shoulder, another drink in my magic. The band was playing again and they sounded more modern and less stone age now. Octavia rolled her eyes up to me and slurred, “How was I?”

I patted her head and rubbed her back through her dress. “Terrible. Absolutely awful. You’re never getting on stage drunk again.”

“Well,” she drawled, “why’d you get up there?”

“Because,” I explained, “fancy ponies will always pay attention to a terrible singer over a terrible band.”

She hiccupped and said, “Well I thought you were good.”

I paused. “Well that’s because you’re drunk, doofus.”

“Oh yeah…”

“So look, next time, can we not go to one of your ‘snazzy’ clubs? Hay, I’d rather go to one of those wine-tasting things.”

She looked at the band, the crowd, then me. “Fine.”

“Can we go home now?”

“I hate you Vinyl. You’re… you… you’re a butt,” she hiccupped. I rolled my eyes and dragged her out of the booth.

“Stuff it, snazzy.”

Fashion - Syvvak

Don’t come home until 8. Please. That’s what the note said. It had been left for me at work. I didn’t know what to think at the time. I still don’t. Why didn’t Vinyl want me home till eight? My mind first jumped to her having someone over. Had she finally gotten bored with me, a simple cellist who didn’t fit into her wild lifestyle? I pushed these thoughts aside and decided to settle on she was either rearranging the house, or cleaning it, since I wasn’t able to forget about it entirely.

As I approached the door, all the bad thoughts came back. Maybe she was doing drugs? Being with another pony? Leaving? I took a deep breath, hoping I didn’t have an anxiety attack. I don’t know why I was like this. I guess it just wasn’t like Vinyl, so it must have thrown me off.

I opened the door and stepped in. “Vinyl, I’m home,” I shouted as I closed the door behind me.

“I’m in the kitchen, Tavi,” she shouted back.

I put my cello by the door and walked to the kitchen. I didn’t know what to expect, but it sure as hell isn’t what I saw. The table was set with a large quantity of food, candles were everywhere, the only light in the room, and Vinyl was dressed up fancy. Well, fancy for her. She was wearing a simple red dress. That’s it. Her mane wasn’t brushed back, she wasn’t wearing makeup, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She looked absolutely gorgeous (just like any other time).

“I - you- did-” I tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed. Vinyl picked up on this and explained.

“Yes, I did this by myself for you,” she said, as she sauntered up to me, giving me a loving kiss and leading me to my chair. She even pulled it out for me. What had gotten into her? Did I forget an important date?

“Wow. This is nice. What’s the special occasion? I didn’t think there was anything important coming up this week.”

“Tavi, every day with you is special and important to me. I just wanted to do something nice. Is that too much?” She said it all with a smile. Not her normal cocky smirk, just a sweet, loving smile.

“Well, thank you. This is nice.” She started passing out the food. She had always told me she couldn’t cook, so I always did. Now that I know she can cook, she will be doing it more often.

After dinner, she took me out back where she had some blankets and pillows lain about. I laid there in her embrace, just enjoying being with her, watching the sky. It had always fascinated me. She gave me a quick squeeze, cleared her throat, and started to talk.

“Tavi, tonight was wonderful,” she began, as she sat up. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.” I nodded my head and gave her a hug.

“I did. Thank you very much.” She chuckled and returned the hug.

“Well, I have never done something like that before, and I couldn’t think of any other way to show you how much you meant to me. I had a few relationships before you, but I always found something missing.” What was she going on about? “I don’t know what it is, but you have it. And I never want to lose it. This is kind of a spur of the moment thing, but here goes.

“Tonight I realized I would do something completely out of who I am for you. I realized that you meant more to me than anything else. Well, I guess I done knew all this, I guess it just really hit me tonight or something. I don’t want anyone else in my life. I know I have never been good with sharing my feelings, or speeches, but I have given it my best.

“Octavia-” she never uses my full name “-will you marry me? I don’t have a ring or anything, but I-”

She was cut off as I jumped on her, locking her lips with mine. Tears were pouring down my face as I whispered “Yes” into her mouth.

This wasn’t how Vinyl would normally do something like this (I don’t think. I always thought either I would propose, or she would make it all big and flashy and everyone knowing), but I loved it, just like I loved her.

Firsts - Terrasora

“That movie was terrible!”

Two mares, one grey and one white, walked through the lobby of the movie theater.

“Vinyl, you have absolutely no taste. What could have possibly been wrong with it?”

The white mare, Vinyl, tilted her head, looking at her partner over the top of her purple shades.

“Really, Tavi? What was wrong with it? Everything! It wasn’t exciting! I mean, there were no explosions or giant robots! The only reason I could tolerate the lack of hot mares was because you were sitting next to me.”

Octavia turned slightly pink; she still wasn’t used to Vinyl’s idea of compliments, nor did she know how to react when Vinyl said she had a “hot flank.” Which had happened quite a bit.

So she chose to ignore the comment. “You just described a Marine Bay movie. This actually had a storyline.”

“Yeah, a boring storyline. C’mon, they couldn’t fit a single explosion into it? I thought it was stupid.”

But the grey mare knew better. “Liar. I saw you crying towards the end,” she said with a smirk.

Vinyl sputtered. “N-No, I didn’t! You’re seeing things! The soda straw poked me in the eye, that was it.”

“We didn’t buy a soda.”

“Yeah, well that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Tavi giggled slightly. “Admit it, you liked the movie.”

The other mare hesitated for a moment. And then a slow smile spread across her face. “I’ll do it if you kiss me.”

“… Pardon?”

“I’ll say I liked the movie if you kiss me.”

“But you did like the movie,” protested Tavi.

Vinyl shook her head. “That’s not the point! I’ll say that I liked it if you kiss me.” She grinned widely. “You know you want to.”

Tavi gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable.”

“Does that mean sexy? I’ll assume that that means sexy.”

The grey mare smiled but made no move to kiss Vinyl.

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to sigh. “Well then Tavi, let’s get the rest of this date on its way!” She trotted towards the theater’s exit, closely followed by her fillyfriend.

Right, thought Octavia, date. A date with Vinyl Scratch. My first date with Vinyl Scratch. Complete with a date movie that she cried over and now we’re off to dinner. Slightly cliché, but it’s a very nice kind of cliché.

The pair walked outside. The Sun had just set; the Moon had yet to rise. All in all, it was a very romantic scene as the couple walked down the street. Vinyl was telling some kind of story, constantly moving her hooves and adding sound effects every once in a while.

Octavia was hardly listening, focused too intently on the unicorn telling the story to actually hear the story itself.

She’s so confident, never afraid to tell anypony how she feels. Except when she’s afraid or nervous. Then no one hears about it. Octavia smiled brightly. No one except me.

“And then woosh, I swooped in with a can of corn, set off the bomb and married the princess.”

Octavia had begun to nod, but realized just what Vinyl had said.

The unicorn laughed at her fillyfriend’s expression. “You weren’t listening to me! I started making things up like five minutes. It was a real work of art.” Vinyl pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “So, what were you thinking about that was more important than me?”

Octavia could hear a slight tone of worry under Vinyl’s bravado. That’s just not playing fair.

She leaned in and softly kissed the DJ.

Vinyl was trying to form some kind of witty statement, but what came out was, “Wha-aa… uh.”

Octavia giggled. “Vinyl, how long have we known each other?”

The DJ put a hoof to her lips. She could still feel the kiss. “Uhhh… Years?”

“Correct. How long did we keep our feelings hidden from each other?”

“Years.” Vinyl was starting to regain some feeling in her mouth.

“Also correct.” Octavia kissed her again. Any muscle coordination Vinyl had regained disappeared in a flash.

“Last question,” continued Octavia. “What could I possibly be thinking about that’s more important than you?”

Vinyl knew that she wouldn’t be able to speak, so she simply shook her head.

“Exactly. Nothing could have been more important than you.” Another kiss.

Octavia began to walk again, Vinyl had to trot to catch up. They were nearly at the restaurant.

The DJ massaged her jaw with a hoof, trying to get some feeling back into it. “Hu—I mean, hey, Octy?”

Octavia turned her head.

Vinyl had a grin plastered across her face. “That was our first kiss. Well, first and second and third kisses.”

The grey mare blushed, slightly surprised at her own daring. “Yes Vinyl. First kiss, first official date. Quite a productive day.”

The unicorn wrapped a hoof around her fillyfriend. They were about to enter the restaurant. “Hey Octy?”

“Yes, Vinyl.”

“… I really did like the movie. And I cried. Which is weird, because I don’t cry for movies.”

Octavia smiled, planting another peck on Vinyl’s cheek.

“Well, dearest Vinyl, there’s a first time for everything.”

Grumpy - Syvvak {Part 2}

“Come on, Vinyl. I said I was sorry.” Octavia sat with her back against the bathroom door, waiting for her marefriend to respond.

“No.”

“Please. I’m really, really sorry.”

“And sorry will make it all better?”

“Yes?” Octavia asked more than stated.

“No.”

“Please come out.”

“No.”

“Please? I gotta pee.” Octavia hoped this would get her some sympathy points.

“No.”

“I’ll do some special favors,” she said seductively.

“No.”

“I’ll make you waffles, since I know you don’t like pancakes.”

“Will you stop trying to bribe me?”

“Sorry. I just didn’t mean for this to happen. I’ll just wait out here for you,” Octavia said despondently. She scooted over and slumped down on the wall next to the door. After a minute, she heard the door creak open.

“Do you still think I’m pretty?” Vinyl stepped out of the bathroom. Her body was a garish brownish-green, while her hair was tinted with it, but still predominantly blue. In attempt of a prank, Octavia had mixed dye into her soap. She didn’t know that it was gonna turn the color it did; she just wanted red. Or that it was as long lasting as it was.

“Vinyl, you could be shave bald and you would still be gorgeous,” Octavia said, rising from her seat on the floor, still looking ashamed.

“Wanna test that out?” Vinyl replied, her face adorned with a smirk.

“I would rather not. Glad to see you’re back though.” Octavia wrapped her hooves around her marefriend and locked their lips.

Pulling away, Vinyl said, “And now I think you owe me a few favors... and some waffles.”

Dolls - Blagdaross

"This is the stupidest idea they've ever come up with!" Octavia whined. "Even worse than free kazoo night!"

"Free kazoo night was awesome!" Vinyl said. "One of the funniest things I've ever seen."

"The symphony isn't supposed to be humorous, it's supposed to be stately." The grey mare replied. "I do understand there is a need to sell tickets, but cheap gimmicks like this will only tarnish the reputation of the entire operation." She shook her mane as she spoke, as if trying to shake away something annoying.

"Listen, Octy, babe, I didn't understand more than a couple of words you just said, and I represent a lot of ponies in this town," the white unicorn began. Octavia gave a snort. Vinyl continued, "and if you want me to go to the Philharmonic's shows, you need to convince me it'll be fun."

"And selling dolls will convince you? How does that have, well, anything to do with anything? Besides, who wants a plush toy of a cellist?" The grey mare said, pacing about the room.

"I do."

Commission - psp7master

"It'll be all right, it'll be all right, it'll be all right..." Vinyl kept repeating to herself as she paced the small lawn in front of a two-store house, avoiding knocking at the door. After all, why rush? She could just walk for a while, for another... half an hour...

The DJ groaned and looked at the record that she was holding in her magical grip. Dammit, I shouldn't have agreed to it, she chided herself. But then again, this 'Octavia' promised to pay well... "It'll be all right, it'll be all right, it'll be all-" she kept repeating her mantra until the door opened, revealing a beautiful grey earth pony mare, her charcoal mane falling freely onto her shoulders.

"Miss Vinyl Scratch, I presume?" she wondered, with a soft touch of Braytish accent, her lips curled up in a polite smile.

Vinyl gulped, feeling a bed of sweat form upon her forehead. "Y-yeah, the one and only!" she exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, throwing her hoof in the air lazily. "You, um, the one Octavia?"

The grey mare nodded, stepping outside. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Scratch," she said, extending a hoof in a greeting gesture.

"Just... Vinyl," the white unicorn said lamely, shaking the hoof. Octavia's hoof was smooth and soft, and immensely pleasant to touch.

"So, Vinyl, have you thought about the song I commissioned you?" Octavia wondered calmly, still not dropping the smile.

"Y-yeah!" Vinyl handed the record at once, wincing as the grey mare grabbed it in her hooves, inspecting it closely.

"A full hour backing track in A major, full orchestra?" Octavia wondered, eyeing the round vinyl object.

Vinyl frantically looked around. "Not so loud!" she whispered, slightly paling. "I've a reputation to maintain!"

"Oh, we'll see to it," Octavia mumbled, casting an estimating glance at the white pony. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Huh?"

"I would like to test the record, and your assistance would be of utmost importance."

Slightly perturbed by the mare's ridiculous phrasing, the unicorn meekly nodded and couldn't help but glance longingly at Octavia's rump. With a sigh, she trotted into the house after the grey pony.

Something was telling her it wasn't the last time she'd meet this mare.

Sex - Syvvak

Vinyl walked over to the grey mare laying on the ground. The mare was breathing heavily; that last hit must have broken a rib and caused it to puncture a lung. The mare was writhing on the rain-slick sidewalk. Her breathing quickened.

“I made you kill your best friend.” As she said this, Vinyl threw some pictures of a colt kissing another colt at the mare. “I made you kill your wife.” She threw an earring at her. “And, now, I’ve killed you.”

“Goddamnit, Vinyl! How many times have I told you not to quote The Punisher while we’re having sex?”

At the sound of her marefriend's voice, the room changed back to normal. Vinyl was straddling a heavily breathing Octavia, who didn’t seem happy.

“Um, once?” she asked sheepishly.

“Six! Six times this month! And it’s only the eighth!”

“I’m sorry, Tavi.” The white unicorn looked down despondently. Octavia sighed.

“It’s fine. Try not to do it again.”

‘Thanks, Tavi! You’re the best.” She gave the grey mare a peck on the lips. “Now, would you like to punish me?”

Everyday - psp7master

"Vinyl, breakfast is ready!"

I got up from my bed, already wide awake, but still in that blissful after-sleep haze that makes your mind go round and about. That day, like any other day, my mind went round and about my roommate, Octavia. I'd wake up every morning, trot downstairs, praying the old steps wouldn't fail - I have this strange fear of falling through the floor, down to the very pit of Tartarus; I know it's silly, but that's how it is - and finally reaching her, giving her a hug, the sheer happiness from which I'd try to contain for the whole of the day, for my hugging quota was fulfilled for the day. I was just a roommate, and a friend, and I couldn't go throwing hugs upon her.

She is beautiful; she's the most beautiful mare you'll ever lay eyes upon. Her grey coat reflecting the early sunlight, her gorgeous black mane falling upon her shoulders oh so softly, her eyes... her divine, mesmerising lavender eyes... I could write poems about her eyes alone; if I were a poet, that is.

Today, I told myself, as I would tell myself every day. Today I'm gonna ask you out, Tavi. Today. Every day, I'd tell myself that; and every day, I'd fail to do it. Was that day any different?

I trotted downstairs, giving the grey mare a short, cheerful hug, which she returned gently, but politely. There's this special attitude about her, you see: always prim and proper, always so... snooty. In a good way, though.

"Come on, Vinyl, your favourite pancakes are ready."

With that, I sat down at table, opposite her, faking excitement at the upcoming tasty treat. Don't get me wrong: I like pancakes, but I like Octavia more. Much, much more.

How to tell her about it, though?

"Tavi," I said carefully, waiting till she chewed on her pancake, lest she interrupt me. Not that she would, anyway; but I had to make sure. "You know, Tavi, we're really good friends, right?"

"Indeed."

Okay, that was a good start, right? Still, it was the same start as every day. 'Indeed.' So uptight, so classy, so... cold.

I felt my confidence vanish. Looking at her, I could see a small, polite smile on her face. The little wrinkles below her eys were smiling at me as well; but this was a friendly smile. It was a smile you'd toss to your friend, but never to your lover. Or, well, potential lover.

I groaned mentally and sighed aloud. I couldn't. I just couldn't face her rejection. No. Not today. I'd try again tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. I'd try every single day. Every day.

"I... I need to get some OJ!" I exclaimed, throwing my hoof in the air, once again faking a positive outlook. "Want some?"

She shook her head, and I stood up without finishing breakfast. I'd have much time to finish it after I'd return and she'd leave for her rehearsal. So much time. Alone. Like every day.

I turned, and walked away, tears blurring my vision. She'd never be mine. I knew it well. I wasn't entitled to her love. I wasn't authorized to love her. But, at least, I could be her friend. But I knew I would never cease my pathetic efforts at reaching for her. I knew I'd continue breaking myself down, if only to see her chuckle at my mumbling. I'd always carry on.

Every day.

Secrets - SlightlySerious

The heavy bass coursed through Octavia’s body, violent vibrations stemming from the headphones upon her ears. Her hoof tapped and head bobbed with the beat, not by choice, but by the force of the music pushing against her. The thump pounded against her consciousness, only growing with each bar as she allowed herself to be lost in the music. She could feel her breathing get more and more ragged as the sounds increased in intensity.

Her head bobbing and hoof tapping soon evolved into hip swaying. As the intense sounds continued to scale a summit, her body continued slide into a new plane, where the only things existing were her movements and the music she was moving to.

She knew it was coming; she could hear the signs that a climactic electronic explosion was just on the horizon, and her moving body would be along for the ride. At this point, Octavia was dancing; it wasn’t the proper ballroom waltz she was used to, but true feeling and emotion translated into a passionate flailing of limbs and graceful chaos.

The headphones barely stayed secure as she spun, preparing for the peak of the music. She could feel her heart pounding in anticipation. The synthesised instruments increased in pace, and she was ready to be blasted with the cacophony of heavy bass and dirty, yet beautiful, melodies. The pitch continued to rise, as did her wild movements, until-

“‘Tavi! I’m home!”

In one swift motion fueled by adrenaline, Octavia grabbed the headphones and slammed them against a nearby wall, wincing as they broke apart into little pieces. She tossed her mp3 player to the side as well, this time careful to make sure it wasn’t destroyed.

She could hear Vinyl coming up the stairs; she had to come up with an excuse for her sweat drenched body, but what?

The door to her room opened, revealing her marefriend. “Hey ‘Tavi. What’s u- Whoa. Why are you all sweaty? Were you m-”

“No!” she quickly interrupted. “I was... exercising. Yes. Getting a good workout. A lady has to look her best.”

Vinyl looked skeptical at first, but then shrugged. “Alright, whatever. You shouldn’t worry about your weight so much, though. I like your butt just the way it is.” She smiled and turned to leave, but stopped. “Oh, have you seen my headphones?”

Octavia passed a nervous glance to the ruined pair on the opposite wall. “N- nope. Haven’t seen them...” she gulped.

Vinyl shrugged again. “Alright. Well if you do, let me know. Oh, and is it alright with you if I go to a party tonight? I would invite you, but I know you don’t like that ‘awful and dirty electronic scene’.”

“I- it’s fine with me, Vinyl.” She watched as the mare turned away, taking in a deep breath. “Wait.” Vinyl peeked back into the doorway. “This time... this time I think I’d like to go with you.”

Belly-rubs - Terrasora

“Tavi.”

“…”

“Taaaaaaaavi.”

“…”

“Taaaaaaaaaaaavi.”

Still no response. Vinyl Scratch clung to her fillyfriend, batting a loose strand of Octavia’s mane from side to side.

“Tavi, don’t ignore me,” pleaded Vinyl. “I hate being ignored. I think I’m allergic to it!” The DJ reared back in mock horror, putting a hoof to her chest. “Tavi, I’m going into Analeptic shock. And then I’ll die! Do you really want my death on your hooves?”

Octavia glanced at Vinyl, regarding her for a bit before turning back to her work. “Vinyl, I’m doing some rather serious work at the moment.”

“Work?” groaned Vinyl.

“Yes, work. You know, that thing that keeps a roof over our head?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t put any food on the table!”

Octavia stared at Vinyl, a single eyebrow raised.

Vinyl stared back, a cheesy grin plastered across her face.

The cellist, realizing that she was fighting a losing battle, turned back to her sheet music. Octavia was able to write about two notes before a certain bored DJ wrapped her hooves around the grey mare.

“Tavi, let’s do something else!”

“No, Vinyl.”

“Please?” Vinyl leaned in towards Octavia’s ear. “I swear I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered.

Octavia sharply rapped Vinyl’s forehead, just below the horn. The DJ didn’t even blink. “Foolish Tavi, I’ve grown immune to your Striking Hoof of Justice! Now nothing can get me off of you!”

The cellist rolled her eyes.

In order to prove her point, Vinyl nibbled Octavia’s ear, eliciting a yelp and another quick smack.

Okay, thought Vinyl, that kind of hurt. But she held on, playing with Octavia’s mane and bowtie as the cellist kept up a steady stream of blows.

Octavia was growing redder by the minute, trying desperately to get the unicorn off of her. But it seemed like Vinyl really had built a defense. Why do I try to work at home? It never plays out well.

The grey mare brought her hoof back for one last attempt to dislodge Vinyl, making weak contact with the DJ’s abdomen. Vinyl gave a small squeak and jumped off of Octavia.

The cellist turned, a slightly confused look in her eyes. “Vinyl, are you okay?”

Vinyl was clutching her stomach. “Yeah, just fine. I just… yawned, yeah, it was a yawn.” She gave a dramatic stretch to prove her point.

Octavia was not fooled. “Vinyl, you’re ticklish, aren’t you?” A dangerous gleam shone in her eyes as she slowly got to her hooves.

“No, not ticklish!” Vinyl said with a nervous laugh. “I’m sleepy, and I think I’ll go take a nap! I mean, you have all of that work to do.”

The DJ backed away from the cellist, trying to escape to the sanctuary of her bedroom. But Octavia was faster. The grey mare poked at Vinyl, causing the DJ to twitch. A grin spread across the cellist’s face.

Vinyl’s mind was screaming at her. Abort mission! Abort mission! Tavi’s gonna kill us with belly-rubs! Vinyl's body obeyed, jumping back just as Octavia landed a slightly harder poke. The DJ fell and Octavia followed her to the floor.

The cellist mercilessly rubbed at Vinyl’s stomach, and the DJ dissolved into a mix of laughter and pain. “Stop! Stop!” Vinyl pleaded through bursts of laughter. “Please, Tavi for—BAHAHA—for the love of Celestia, stop!”

But Octavia didn’t stop and Vinyl soon lost the energy to protest. She could only laugh, her entire body twitching weakly.

Only a few minutes had passed before Octavia let up, though it felt like hours to the giggling mess that vaguely resembled a DJ. Vinyl lay panting on the floor, small aftershocks of giggles randomly coursing through her. “T-Tavi. You’re… you’re scary.”

Octavia smiled, walking back to her sheet music. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Vinyl nodded weakly, and her head thumped back to the floor. A few moments passed in silence, only the sound of Octavia’s quill sounded through the room.

“Hey, Tavi?”

“Yes, Vinyl?”

“I don’t say it enough, but I love you.”

A smile and a blush spread across Octavia’s face. “I love you too, Vinyl.”

Language - Syvvak

“Come on, Vinyl. Please?” Octavia had been pleading with her fillyfriend for a good half an hour, to no avail.

“I already said no, Tavi. How else can I say it? ‘Shut the fuck up and leave me alone cuz I ain’t gonna do it’?”

“You could say it in Fancy,” Octavia replied, a little hurt at Vinyl’s outburst. Even though it wasn’t directed at her, it still hurt.

“Look. Tavi.” Vinyl took a deep breath before continuing. “Why should I waste hours, if not days, of my life on something I will never use? I don’t go to fancy restaurants all the time like you, or fancy parties. I don’t interact with the crème de la crème of society, so it would just be a waste of my time.” Vinyl felt as though she rationalized pretty well.

“Oh, so you need to get something you want back to do anything, huh?” Octavia said, a bit of venom in her voice.

“Tavi, that’s n-” Vinyl began, but was cut off by the grey mare.

“So you won’t do it just to do it? Just to say you can? You wouldn’t do it so my friends don’t think less of you, or make fun of you when they think I’m not listening?” Octavia’s eyes began to water. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “You wouldn’t do it for me?”

Vinyl went to wrap her hooves around the crying mare, but, when she reached out, Octavia turned away, causing Vinyl to sigh.

“Look, Octavia, I... When I was a filly, my mother’s boss spoke Fancy. He... wasn’t a very nice pony. He made her work the hardest and longest, since she was a ‘no good, worthless earth pony’. He would get mad at her for mistakes she didn’t even make. Nopony would do anything about it, because he knew people. He made our lives miserable and would force my mom to do... things to keep her job.

“Whenever I hear Fancy, I think of him.” Vinyl looked Octavia in the eye and gave a small smile. “But, if it really means so much to you, I will learn how to speak in Fancy. On one condition.”

Octavia jumped up and wrapped her hooves around the DJ’s neck. “You don’t have to if it brings back bad memories. I’m sorry I have been so pushy about it. I didn’t know.”

Vinyl pushed her back and held her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “On the condition that you will teach me and give me good memories for it to remind me of.” She pulled the grey cellist forward, locking their lips in a loving embrace.

Soulless - ForlanceAbice

"No..." Vinyl couldn't believe her eyes. Her heart beat accelerated dramatically. Her hooves were frozen to the ground, paralyzed in shock.

"No, this isn't happening. This is just a dream. A really bad nightmare."

"Vi-... Vinyl?" The white unicorn's heart leaped into her throat as she cradled the cellist in her arms. Blood pool around them on the concrete below, soaking both Vinyl's and Octavia's fur in crimson water. But that was the last thing on Vinyl's mind as she desperately tried to stop her flowing tears, her voice cracking as she hugged her beloved mare tightly.

"Yeah Octavia?"

"Could you... Tell everyone in Ponyville that I-"

"No! Don't you even think about that Tavi! You are going to be just fine, you hear me!? You are going to tell them that you are just fine, you got that?"

"Vinyl? I will always love you... Vin-" Octavia never got to finish as a crossbow bolt cut right into her throat. Her eyes momentarily shrunk into pinpricks as she gagged for a brief moment.

Then she was gone.

A numb coldness took Vinyl as her beloved vanished before her eyes. The mare that was once Octavia Staccato laid dead. Slowly however, she felt rage coarse through her veins. She looked up and snarled.

"You soulless fucking bastard." She rose to her hooves, bristling with anger, agony and sorrow, all bundle into one. Her target smirked as he reloaded, magicking another bolt to his weapon.

"All in a day's work Vinyl. You shouldn't have crossed me. Now you have paid the price." As to further mock her, he casually flipped the murder weapon and balanced it on his nose, before grabbing it with his tail.

A red veil shrouded Vinyl's vision as she released a war cry, charging her assailant. She felt her hooves turn into a storm of fury.

Then there was a loud "splurgh".

The laughing had stopped.

And slowly, Vinyl crawled back to her cellist, laid her head on Octavia's chest, and sobbed through out the night.

Guilt - Preto Mal

“Look, I said I’m sorry, what more do you want?” I cried, vainly trying to overpower the hair rising tinkle of ceramics on the linoleum. My marefriend, my beautiful, perfect marefriend, simply ignored me, as she had or the past hour. My belongings littered the floor around her, the area a minefield of broken glass and carelessly discarded paper. All I could see was her long, silky black mane, as she dug through our cabinets, carelessly tossing aside anything of mine in her search for the things she wished to take with her.

I again cried out to her “You can’t be leaving! What about all the good times we’ve had! You won’t actually throw it all away over such a trivial issue!” My only answer was the slamming of the cabinet as she came out clutching her mother’s china. She again avoided my gaze as she sauntered into the bedroom, and secured the dishes within her rapidly filling suitcase.

I slumped to the floor, softly murmuring “I know I screwed up, but please don’t leave me. We can get you a new cello. Please. I need you…” I saw a flicker of doubt in her, as she briefly glanced my way out of her eye’s corner. The moment was brief before the steel resolve returned to her eyes and she turned back to her possessions, giving her pillow a vicious blow to fit it in.

“Look,” I begged “Please stay, I’ll do anything you like. We can go to those fancy restaurants you like every night, we can go to those boring operas, and I won’t even fall asleep! I promise! I’ll barely even blink!” my hooves around her legs as she arranged her clothes into the bag exactly right, and closed the lid. She began her transit to the door, stepping out of my grasp. I merely stayed on the ground, silent sobs escaping me as I could barely muster the enthusiasm for another plea.

The creaking of the door echoed in the otherwise silence. I heard a quiet voice drifting back towards me, too quiet to know for sure, but I could have sworn it said “goodbye” before the door clicking back into its frame shattered the stillness for a brief moment, and all was quiet again. I collapsed to the floor in tears, shaking with my grief. The splinters of the shattered cello littered the ground around me. An impossibly deep chasm opened up all around me, trapping me from all sides. I was alone. I was alone, and had no one to blame but myself.

Adventure - Blagdaross

"Stalking through the underbrush, Daring Do move ever closer to her target..."

Octavia watched Vinyl slip between the racks. The grey mare seriously considered leaving right away.

"She knows her quarry can't be far away..." The white mare peered around a display of cardigans.

Octavia didn't proclaim to the whole store that she didn't know this pony, but only just.

"No treasure can stay out of Daring Do's hooves for long!" Vinyl didn't shout it, much to Octavia's relief. Still, the cellist had had enough of this.

Octavia stomped between the clothes. "We are not stalking through the jungle, we are at Nordstallion's buying scarves! This is not an adventure!"

"It is if we want it to be! Two star-crossed lovers, held apart only by their lack of winter clothing, set forth on a quest to--" Vinyl began.

"Will. You. Be. Quiet!" the bow-tied mare hissed.

"You're no fun. Oh, and the scarves are right there." Vinyl wilted under her marefriend's glare.

"Hmmph! Come on then, let's get them and get out of here before you embarrass me any more." She grabbed two thick, woolly scarves off the top of the table, not caring about the colors.

Vinyl grabbed them with her magic. "Not those. These." The DJ picked up a two-toned blue scarf, sky blue and azure, and another pink scarf with white fringes. She draped the pink one around Octavia's face, covering her snout.

"I'm going to offer to pay with tales of adventure!" Vinyl laughed.

Octavia's stare could have melted all the snow in Manehatten. Most of Caneighda, too.

Pets - Beatrice Wilde

“No. No as in No Way,” Vinyl stated.

“But, Vinyl, PLEASE? He just looks ever-so-lonely and I need someone to keep me company at night when you’re DJ-ing. Please?” Octavia begged.

“No, Tavi. We are not keeping it. There is NO WAY I’m letting that THING stay here! I am the only one who can be lazy around here, and that DEMON won’t change that! So, for the last time, Tavi, NO!”

“Fine! I’ll just keep him in our- I mean MY room! Go ahead and be lazy- on the couch! Come on, Mr. Snuggles. Let’s go to bed,” Octavia grumped. With an angry "Goodnight" spit at Vinyl, she pounded up the steps.

Hours later, Vinyl sneezed and sneezed while trying to get comfortable on the couch. That damn cat… She was pretty sure Octavia knew she was allergic, but seeing as how they only had one other instance having a cat in the house, and they hadn’t kept it very long (it attacked Vinyl’s face very grumpily, then they called a REAL cat-sitter for it- that is, after Octavia had stopped laughing long enough to get out the phone book), they didn’t have much experience around them.

Vinyl rubbed her eyes and sat up, about to sneak back upstairs to hunt for some allergy medicine. Crawling up the steps was hard- they were creaky, and, from experience, Vinyl knew Octavia was a light sleeper.

Opening the door to the bedroom carefully, trying not to wake her, Vinyl snuck in the bedroom, in complete Daring Do stealth-mode until she arrived in front of the bathroom door. She glanced behind her, her eyes resting upon the grey mare, who was undoubtedly the loudest snorer she had ever heard. Stifling a giggle, Vinyl pushed the door to the bathroom open, slipped in, and then pushed it shut. She flipped the light switch and walked over to the cabinet. The allergy medicine was at the back. Using her magic, she pulled it out and opened the bottle. ‘Ugh, cherry,’ she thought. ‘Do medicine companies really not know what fruit tastes like?’ Choking it down, she put the bottle back, and turned around, stopping only to flip the light switch off.

As she made her way through the room, she paused, hearing a groan. ‘Oh, she’s just stretching in her sleep,’ Vinyl sighed to herself. ‘She really is beautiful when she’s sleeping. I’m a lucky mare,’ Vinyl babbled in her mind.

She started crawling down the steps again, very, VERY carefully. For some reason they were louder going down than going up. ‘Hehe, going down,’ Vinyl snickered to herself.

Something made the steps creak. Freezing yet again, about halfway down the steps, Vinyl Jerked her head backwards. The cat had followed her. ‘Goddamnitallthatstupidcatfollowedme!’ She seethed. Glaring at the cat, she quietly hissed, “Shoo! Get away! Go back upstairs!”

The cat, obviously ignoring her, started purring and started rubbing against Vinyl’s hooves. Her mouth was a small ‘o’ as she realized how soft and fluffy the cat was.

Still making her way down the steps, they white mare smiled to herself. She actually liked cats! ‘There is no way I am letting Tavi know about this,’ Vinyl said to herself. Collapsing on the couch, whispering “Here, kitty, kitty,” Vinyl started drifting under sleep's spell. Mr. Snuggles (as named by Octavia) jumped on top of her and curled into a ball while Vinyl unconsciously pet her until they were both asleep.

Octavia tucked the two sleeping bodies in and turned out the light, heading back upstairs. ‘I knew if she got to know him, they would be best friends.’

She went to sleep, a smile upon her face.

Movies - TheBandBrony

"Your movies suck."

Dusty disks flew through the air, found wings, then discarded them in favor of flopping to the floor.

"Vinyl!" Those are classics!"

"Yeah, well there's a reason ponies remake classics."

Another disk flew into the air like a frisbee, a sparkling sail catching on the humid air and landing in the lap of one peeved earth pony.

"Vinyl, please stop throwing my movies. We don't have enough space in here to warrant throwing things around, unless you want to paint over another set of scrapes in the wall--"

"I said I was sorry for that!" Vinyl turned on her hooves, narrowly avoiding grinding a copy of a Charneigh Chaplin anthology to nothing underneath her. Octavia winced once, then twice as Vinyl beat against the floor with a strained look of accusation. "I said I was sorry, and you forgave me." She turned around, stuffing her face back into the cabinet. "I don't like it when you bring old stuff up."

"Alright. I'm sorry."

The apology dulled Vinyl's sharp tone. "It's fine. It's not your fault. It's not my fault, either. It's the stupid apartment's fault for being so damn small."

"What have I told you about cursing?" Octavia knew that Vinyl had taking to ignoring lectures as a hobby and dropped the jest in favor of an issue much more pressing. "And what don't you like about the apartment?"

Vinyl turned again, this time conscious of the old Chaplin disk sitting perilously close to her hooves. She brushed it away into the center of the room. Octavia breathed a sigh of relief, but just as quickly found the wind stolen from her lungs by a violent inhale from her partner. "I hate," Vinyl began, "that I can't walk three feet without stubbing my hooves on a couch or coffee table or whatever that vase-thingy is in the corner. Everything's so close together, it's like we're suffocating ourselves in style."

"It's a vase, with a soft 'A'," Octavia murmured, more to herself than to her fuming friend.

"I hate that we don't have central air. I hate that it's so damn hot I can't breathe unless the door's thrown wide open, and that just invites bugs in. I hate that every time I turn around and try to find something I'm either knocking you over or sticking my rear end in your face--and I hate that there's no room for anything that hasn't been vacuum-packed and crushed by an anvil. I hate that I can't give my favorite coffee mug the decency of a cupboard because it's too tall to fit into any of the shelves we had. It's gonna grow mold if it sits in the sink for a day longer, and then I'll have lost two of the things that would have otherwise made this place a tiny bit more like home."

"Vinyl--"

"I hate that the walls are so thin! I'm terrified whenever we have to talk about something important because I think our neighbor's gonna overhear us talk about our finances or our social security numbers or--God forbid, something intimate. Who knows, they can probably hear us shouting now!"

"You're not shouting. But that doesn't mean you can't lower your voice--"

Vinyl's voice cracked as it flattened out at the top of her vocal register. "I hate that we didn't have enough space to keep my records, but we had enough room for that stupid vah-ze. I hate that between the both of us gigging our asses off for three months we couldn't even make enough money to keep the one place we finally had the nerve to call a home--"

Vinyl slumped into a thick seat of silence, her breathing the only sound in the room. The mare on the couch seemed an eternity away, pushed like a toy boat into an ocean by the strong arms of profanity.

"Fuck."

"Vinyl."

"No, really. Fuck." Vinyl threw her hooves up, spent. "We lost, Octavia. We tried our best, but hey! Our best wasn't enough. We're not even good enough to keep a steady roof over our heads. Nope, first we had to hop around every motel that took credit until we even found this stupid place and now we're here and there is never enough space and I'm gonna lose all my records and they're gonna sell them for two bits a bundle because nopony wants to buy records anymore. Really, I don't know what other word to use other than 'fuck'! Because that's what we are. We're fucked. We're fucked because we have to live in this ratty apartment even though we're rubbing hooves with ponies who have financial security through their fifth generation of grandfoals every day. We're fucked because even with all the scraping and the gigging, we might have to go back to motel-hopping, again. That's why we're fucked. Really, it's the perfect word for this exact situation. Profanity's got a messed up sort of eloquence to it."

"You could try a word that doesn't hurt me as much as that one."

Octavia's reply seared Vinyl's tongue with a hot poker, shriveling it in an instant. A long moment of nothing passed. Each droplet of humidity clinging to the air became an intangible horn, screeching and belting every symphony and every sharp note at the same time yet still playing nothing at all. It transformed both of them into fuming fillies once more, filling their heads with malice and recycling it out in a mad effort to find words somewhere between the waves of hot air.

"You curse too much when you're angry, Vinyl." Octavia's tone carried no malice. Only stuttering sadness on the brink of being fully comprehended and given the gravity it deserved.

"I know."

"You scare me when you curse like that."

Vinyl's voice shattered. A broken, alien, "I know," trickled from her mouth.

"You don't curse unless you're really angry."

"It's just--" something vulnerable slid down Vinyl's cheek an instant too quick for her hoof. It brushed along her narrow cheeks before it had the sense to drop down towards the littered floor and catch it in its tracks, smearing a thin streak of grey on the bridge of her muzzle before she worked up the nerve to finish it off. "I bought a few of them with my allowance, back when I was a filly. My mom told me never to waste my allowance--she said it was important that I be careful with my bits, because money's gonna be a really important thing to manage when you grow up, and you gotta know how to handle money well if you don't want to end up sleeping in a motel for the rest of your life." She stiffened, but her eyes did not break from their stoic glare at the floor. "I don't want to waste them."

The room grew smaller, if that was even possible. The walls warped like plastic held over a fire, molding itself around the two mares and squeezing a sigh from Octavia's lips.

"We still have the records?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. You were gonna take them to the donation center tomorrow and sell them. I was gonna stay here and do... I don't know, something."

"We could put the records in a milk crate, then put the vase on top of it." Octavia cast a glance at the ornament. It seemed to throw its arms up in surrender to her compromise.

"We could do that." Vinyl's eyes never left the floor. "We would need to put something flat on top of the carton so the vase wouldn't fall."

"Like a pane of glass."

"But we'd need to be able to take it off, so we could actually get to the records."

"We could do that."

Vinyl shifted, this time pawing nervously at the disks still scattered about on the floor. A lump of indecision stuck in her throat and held her tongue, but she swallowed it in a moment. "Whose idea was it to watch a movie again?"

"Mine, Vinyl."

Vinyl nodded. "Did you want to watch Chaplin?"

"I'd prefer if we did, yes." The earth pony paused. "Though, if you still wanted to watch that new action movie with that handsome griffon on the cover you rented from the library, that would be okay--"

"No," Vinyl cut her off. "No, Chaplin's fine. Like your friends say, I need to get some culture into me if I want to make it as the marefriend of a refined lady as yourself, or I'll get culture-shock when I'm making out with you and die."

Octavia giggled. The walls burst into joyous smiles upon hearing the subtle laugh for the first time, straining to give the mares a few extra inches of space as a reward. "That's not what they said, you liar."

"Totally is. You have the weirdest friends."

"I know." Her forelegs stretched towards Vinyl, the call of a siren beckoning her lover towards her, a look sincere need on her face. "Get it started, and then come over here and keep me warm."

Vinyl saluted, mashed a few buttons on the television set. "Uh, the disk--"

"Left rear hoof, don't step too far back or you'll be buying a new one."

"Thanks."

In a flash, Vinyl had cleared the fog around her head and thrown the disk into the try. She beat it back to the couch, settling into the cushions and letting loose a contented wheeze similar to that of the couch underneath her.

Something, fragile like porcelain and obtrusive to the eye in such a casual closet as their apartment, still made Octavia's eyes sore. "Vinyl?"

"Mm?"

"Do you really hate the apartment? I know it's not the best. But, do you hate it?"

The question slowed Vinyl's frantic padding the couch as she tried to get comfy. "Do I hate it?"

"Yes. Do you hate it?"

"Yes," she replied without a second thought. "For all the reasons I stated earlier, I hate this place." She finally found a soft spot in the cushion, sinking into it with sigh. "But home is what you make of it. And I guess it's not entirely fair that I haven't been making very much of it."

Octavia leaned back from Vinyl, confusion written on her face. "But, to say that would be to imply you thinking--" Her eyes exploded with hope, frail yet growing quickly, nurtured by the opening credits bursting onto the screen before them in boisterous grey-scale. Without a sound, she leaned back into the center of the couch, pawing at her partner's side until she found a place to rest her head. As the opening credits retreated back into the top of the screen like a rising curtain, she felt the soft rhythm of drums accompany the new faces on-screen.

Counting a steady tempo to the movements on screen was the greatest conductor of all, the steady beating of home held secure in her partner's chest.

Morning Coffee - Beatrice Wilde

Sitting down at the pale green table, awaiting her coffee, Octavia sighed.

She had once been a well-respected, wealthy mare. Now she was practically nothing. She was practically nothing due to the fact that nopony wanted HER type of music when there was that awful DJ PON3, Vinyl Something-Or-Other. She was barely scraping by, doing little errands for people when she could. Because Vinyl's "modern" music had kicked her music out of society.

I'm out of date, the cellist sighed.

Before she could get into more self-pity, the bells chimed at the door of the practically deserted coffee house (Octavia's favorite ever since she discovered, well, coffee). Glancing up, not really curious, Octavia blinked, then blinked again, trying to register what she thought she was seeing.

Anger replacing confusion, she fumed, taking deep breathes, trying to hold herself together before she made a scene. Vinyl. Was. Here.

Disbelief came about as Vinyl slid into the booth opposite Octavia. Octavia was just blinking, words deserting her.

"Hey, baby, how's it goin'?" Vinyl winked at her. "Just strollin' through here, thought I would stop and check out the view," She let her eyes travel to Octavia's flank.

Sheesh, she's most uncouth, Octavia thought. Clearing her throat and gathering what was left of her mental state, she spoke. "Hello. What brings you here, to, ah, MY table?" She was trying to be discreet about laying hints. It wasn't working. Being discreet just never was Octavia's thing. She liked to be blunt, normally kind and polite about it. Not with this mare.

"Like I said, the view brought me here," Vinyl repeated with yet another wink.

"It's amazing you can see anything with those atrocities upon your eyes," Octavia stated, observing the purple glasses Vinyl was never without.

"Woah, what's with the hating on me? What did I do?" Vinyl said, actually shocked that Octavia didn't like her. She doesn't even know me! Vinyl cried inside her head.

"What did you do? Oh, I'll tell you what you did!" Octavia yelled, surprising herself and everyone around her, including the waitress that had just brought her steamy cup of coffee. "Creamer? Sugar? Milk?" She asked innocently, but not without curiosity.

"Just leave the milk on the table, please," Octavia sighed. The waitress set the pitcher of milk down and sashayed back to the kitchen.

Everything settling back down, Octavia poured a decent amount of milk into her coffee when she realized Vinyl was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Looking up, she saw that Vinyl had removed her glasses, revealing her ruby red eyes. they were staring back at her. Blinking yet again, Octavia began speaking like the civil mare she was raised to be.

"You've ruined my career. You've ruined it with your awful, awful 'modern' music. I don't have a home. I barely have any bits. The only thing I can ever afford is my morning coffee. And that has to last me an entire day. So yes, I pretty much hate you, Vinyl Scratch."

"Hey, how about we get to know each other? You've never met me. I've seen you around. I'm sorry for being so slimy, but I've kinda had a crush on you for a while now. I didn't know how to deal with it. It's never happened before. Umm... you like mares, right? 'Cause I don't want to be obtru- obtrus- unpersonal. Impersonal? Oh, you know what I mean, right?" Vinyl babbled.

Octavia smiled to herself. "Yes, I like mares, not that it's any of your business." Damn, she thought. I really should try to be nicer. SHE'S trying to be nicer. Why can't I?

"You wake up early, right? Like, at dawn, or whatever time the sun comes up, right?" Vinyl asked, somewhat shyly. Shy? Since when is Vinyl Scratch 'shy'? Octavia wondered.

"Yes, I wake up at dawn, then I walk down here. Kinda around 7-ish," Octavia said.

"Hey, what's your name, by the way?" Vinyl said. "Octavia," she said bluntly.

"'Tavi, I'll see you tomorrow, around 7-ish when the sun comes up, and we can start anew. I'm buying you morning coffee every day from now on, so we can know each other better." Tossing some bits on the table, she got up and headed for the door.

Just as she got to the door, she turned back and said "I'm sorry, 'Tavi. I really am."

And she was gone.

Until the next day, when she would come back.

And Octavia found herself smiling into her one cup of morning coffee.

Hero - Terrasora

“Onwards, Tavi! Onwards for great justice!”

Vinyl Scratch struck a pose, her hoof pointed dramatically forward as she threw her cape behind her. Her bright purple half mask, the same shade as the shades she normally wore, slipped down over her eyes.

Octavia Philharmonica glanced up from her book. “Onwards for what, Vinyl?”

“Justice! Great Justice! The kind that can only be served by Super-P0N3 on Nightmare Night.” Vinyl turned around, trotting back to their bedroom. “Don’t worry, you have a costume too.”

Octavia blinked, turning back and forth between her book and her marefriend. “A costume,” she muttered to herself, “great.”

“Seriously, Octy,” came Vinyl’s voice, “I saw this and I thought of you. It’s awesome.”

“Wonderful.” Images of spandex and too-short pants danced through Octavia’s head. She shivered slightly.

Vinyl returned, toting a grey business suit in her magic. “I had to sew up a couple buttons and stuff, but there wasn’t anything too bad.” She floated it over to Octavia. “And it should fit. But put it on, just in case.”

Octavia blinked at the floating ensemble. “It’s a… suit.”

“Yup.”

“It’s a… rather nice suit.”

“I guess. I don’t wear a lot of suits.”

Octavia turned her gaze towards Vinyl. The grey mare’s brow knit itself slightly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot!” The magic surrounding the suit dissipated as Vinyl ran back to the bedroom. Octavia had to lunge to keep the rather nice suit from hitting the ground.

Vinyl was already jauntily trotting back, a pad of paper and a quill floating before her. “Can’t be a reporter without these.”

“A reporter?”

“Well duh. Want kinda superhero doesn’t have a reporter as a special somepony?” Vinyl paused. “Okay, most of them don’t, but Supermare does! And that’s the only one that really matters.”

Realization struck Octavia and she smiled. “I was half expecting a Robin the Colt Wonder costume.”

“What, with those green panties?” Vinyl laughed, then a dangerous smirk came over her. She pulled Octavia closer and whispered, “That’s for later.”

Octavia turned pink, and smacked Vinyl in the side. The DJ reeled away, clutching at her ribs as she chuckled.

“But you are gonna put it on, right?” asked Vinyl.

The cellist turned even redder. “Vinyl, so help me, I’ll feed you to Nightmare Moon if you--”

“The reporter costume!” said Vinyl hurriedly. “Not the panty one.”

Octavia glanced at the suit, then at her abandon book. “Trick-or-treating, Vinyl? I haven’t celebrated Nightmare Night in ages. And aren’t we a bit too… mature for treats?”

Vinyl gasped. “No! Hell no! C’mon Octy! A bit of trick-or-treating, then we’ll go see Lyra and Bonnie; they always throw awesome parties! It’ll be fun!”

Octavia gave a half-smile.

“I didn’t wanna have to resort to this.” Vinyl pulled off her mask and turned towards her marefriend, unleashing the power of puppy dog eyes that had been polished over the years. “Please Tavi? For me? I really want to be your hero, even if it’s just for tonight.”

Octavia tried to meet the eyes head on. And failed miserably. “Alright, Vinyl. Just give me a moment to get ready.”

“Yay!” Vinyl took the suit in her magic, then trotted towards Octavia. “Trust me, it’ll be awesome. I’m the best hero ever.” She lightly kissed her marefriend, then pushed the suit in front of her.. “Now go put your sexy flank into this!”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “My hero.”

Candy - AcreuBall

Octavia locked the door and switched off her front light. She then proceeded to switch off all the other lights in her house for good measure, and also drew the blinds. It was that day of the year again.

Tavi disliked holidays in general. Really, any day that was--for some reason or another--widely regarded as having some sort of significance was just as bad. Tavi’s life ran on very strict routines. It had order and structure, and she took great amount of solace in that. And kind of ‘special’ day threw off that structure. Like this day for instance: she had a concert in two days, and her usual day-before-the-day-before-a-concert ritual was being thoroughly mussed.

Occasions such as Thanksgiving , or something like that, were excusable, and rather easily avoided by those who chose not to partake--at the very worst, these holidays merely threw off her mundane-errands schedule, as ponies that owned stores seemed to jump at any chance to close them early, or even not open them at all for the entire day, to Octavia’s great inconvenience. Nightmare Night, however, was far more pervasive in its realm of influence.

First and foremost, Octavia despised candy. Sweet gummy candies hurt her sensitive teeth, hard candies seemed to require an annoying amount of time to complete (and attempting to crunch them served only to similarly hurt her teeth), gum was uncouth and made one look like cattle, sour candies had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, and chocolate gave her migraines. Even if she did want to buy candy to give out to foals (which she didn’t--encouraging wild, filthy, loud foals to come right up to her doorstep was not her idea of a holiday), there would inevitably be candy left over that would hang around her house, to be eaten, most likely, by a certain white unicorn. Though the foals hanging off her doorbell looking for free candy could be subverted easily enough by going into a stage-two lockdown, that white unicorn wouldn’t be so easily deterred.

Octavia had meant to spend the majority of the week in her favourite practice room in the recording studio, but she had instead spent most of it creeping around trying not to make eye contact with any of her peers that would inevitably try and force on her an invitation to one of those infamous ‘Nightmare Night parties,’ of which she had less than no interest in attending. There was one small glint of silver on the edge of this stormhead named Nightmare Night, and that was the fact that, though the days preceding it were indicative of the holiday’s namesake, on the night itself, the studio was guaranteed to be mercifully empty. It was the one small upside to one of the ‘special occasion’ days that the year was peppered with--they happened to be some of the few nights she could be certain the studio would be free of all the mouth-breathers and neck-beards that were sometimes called (possibly in error) musicians that were signed to the same label as her. Especially that unicorn. Friday and Saturday nights, as well as Sunday mornings, were fairly safe bets on an ordinary week, but never had quite the same guarantee of solitude as a holiday--inebriated musicians had an inexplicable tendency to want to go practice their craft at the oddest times, such as after a Friday or Saturday night spent partying.

Ensuring her house was locked and sealed, Octavia snuck to the back door with her cello strapped to her back. All that was left to do was successfully make it to the studio, and she’d be in the clear. She took a moment to centre herself. She was a cello-playing ninja of the night. She was pianissimo; she was con sordino; she was an ethereal lilting cantabile drifting overtop of the central melody--she could do it.

There was a knock at her front door.

Tavi froze--perhaps it was just a daring, blind, or particularly obtuse foal who didn’t notice that lights off meant no candy. There was a second knock. Then a series of knocks began, starting quietly, then building in volume, but keeping a steady rhythm. Then an additional knock jumped into the rhythm on the backbeat. It then started alternating between triple and duple time, with accents on the first and third beats of the triplets. As the pattern doubled itself, with sextuplets offset with sets of four sixteenth notes with rather natural sounding but very complex accented beats, Octavia gave a harrowing sigh and set down her cello.

“What do want, Vinyl Scratch?” Octavia said, her eyebrows sitting flat along her brow as she yanked open the door.

“Trick or friggin’ treat, baby!” Vinyl said, wearing what appeared to be a box with two racing stripes down the middle and a number one drawn on it, and burst passed Tavi into the room. “Ha, trick question--I know you hate candy and also I’m inside you house, which was, like, a super trick by itself.” She winked. “Be honest, it was the sextuplets that did it, wasn’t it? Works every time!”

Octavia smooshed her hoof in her own face. “I’m not playing you little games tonight, Vinyl, I’m going into the studio to practice for my performance--like I already told you every time I saw you this week and you asked me if--”

“So you coming to my party tonight, or what?”

“Vinyl! I’m serious I’m--”

“Kay, you’re saying lots of things, but they aren’t making that much sense because none of them seem to be saying ‘Yes Vinyl! Let’s go to your party!’ ...so how bout you try answering that one more time? Like, in a way that I can understand.” She paused for a moment. “And by that I mean you say ‘Yes Vinyl! Let’s go to your party!’ ” She adjusted the box she was wearing. “Uh, in case that wasn’t clear--you should come to my party. I’m actually here to pick you up. Because I knew you wouldn’t come if I didn’t.”

“Vinyl--I don’t even...” Octavia fumed, and then her eyes fell to the box Vinyl was wearing. “Uh... what exactly are you dressed up as?”

“I’m a square! Whose number-one in a race!” She paused. “A leading square, if you will.” Vinyl waited in anticipation, but Tavi just stared evenly at her. “I’m a square lead!” she said, throwing her hooves up.

“That... is a terrible pun. A terrible pun that barely makes sense.”

Vinyl frowned defensively. “Hey, just because I’ve had to explain it to every single pony so far, and a few times actually had to go on and explain what a square lead is in the first place, it doesn’t mean it’s not totally obvious and also brilliant!”

“Yes it does. Conclusively so.”

“Whatever! Doesn’t matter. Wait till you see the costume I made for you!” Vinyl opened the box she was wearing and floated up a cardboard sign with a rope on it, and plopped it down around Tavi’s neck before she could react. It had a huge circle stuck on it made from wildly purple faux-fur. “It’s a large fuzzy ‘O’! Large Fuzzy ‘O?’ Get it? An LFO!” She winked. “Because you definitely oscillate my low frequencies.”

Octavia rolled her eyes, and started fighting to get the sign off, but Vinyl put her hoof on it to stop her.

“Wait!” the unicorn said. “Come on! You gotta come! It wouldn’t even hardly be a party without you!”

“Now that’s hard to believe. And really, the last thing I want to do is go to that--”

“Okay, but”--Vinyl floated a paper bag out of her cardboard box--“if you don’t come, you have to eat a hooffull of candy corn!” Vinyl shoved the bag at Octavia, which was filled with triangular orange yellow and white candies.

“What? Ew! I’m not doing that!”

“Then you’re coming to the party!”

“What’s with these random terms?” Octavia tried to brush the bag away with her hoof. “I don’t agree to this!”

“It’s Nightmare Night! This is the trick or treat part!”

“Wait, then where’s the treat? This is just a choice between two things I don’t want to do!”

“Yeah, getting you to come to the party is the treat--duh.”

“But I don’t what to go to that!”

Vinyl glanced to the side. “A treat for me, obviously.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. Vinyl picked up a few candies out of the bag. “These things really got nothing on you,” she said as she ate them. “I’m willing to be you taste better, too!”

Octavia blinked. A blush crept up on her. “Vinyl... h-have you been flirting with me?” She fiddled with her “costume” that was slung around her neck. “Is that what this is? All the joking and sort of making fun of me and--”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Yes. Yes, that definitely is what this is. The last, like, ten times I’ve talked to you, too. Or, like, basically all the time without stopping.” A wry look came to Vinyl’s face and she let out an exasperated huff. “You make it very hard.”

The colour touching her face progressed into a full blush. “Well, I--how was I supposed to--”

“Pretty sure any other pony would’ve picked up on this already.” Vinyl ran her hoof through her mane, looking away from the other pony. “You’re like, five kinds of impossible, you know that?”

Octavia shot out her hoof and grabbed a bunch of candies from the bag floating beside her, and hesitated only a moment before tossing them in her mouth. They really were a lot like Vinyl--they set her teeth on edge and gave her a headache, and the flavour was so strong it was almost too much.

“Aw,” said Vinyl, pouting. “I didn’t think you could actually do it.” Her played-up pout fell away and a hint of an honestly disappointed expression came up on her face. “So... I guess this means you don’t have to come to the party. Like, technically--”

“I’ll go,” said Tavi.

Vinyl lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Vinyl grabbed the other pony’s hoof and tugged her out the door. “Well come on then! It started, like, half an hour ago!”

Octavia laughed, despite herself, and followed Vinyl outside. Out of Vinyl’s box came a few more bags of candies to follow alongside the candy corn that accompanied them on their way.

“At least that box serves some sort purpose, even if it’s a terrible costume,” Tavi said.

“I know right?” Vinyl grinned. “It’s great, I’ve been keeping all kinds of stuff in here all day! I should wear it all the time.”

“Please never do that.” Octavia reached over and grabbed a few toffees out of one of the bags and popped them in her mouth.

Vinyl raised her eyebrow. “What’s this, now? What what happened to hating candy?”

Octavia smiled. “Maybe I just never properly gave it a chance.” She brushed up against Vinyl. “I think it could even start to grow on me.”

Costume Party - Syvvak

“No.”

“Aw, come on, Tavi. It’ll be fun.”

“No.” Octavia stood her ground, metaphorically.

“Please,” Vinyl Scratch begged.

“No.” Octavia remained where she stood.

“But,” Vinyl said, walking up to her marefriend, “fun.”

“For the last time, Vinyl, no.” Octavia looked into the unicorn’s ruby red eyes, which seemed to light up suddenly.

Vinyl lay upon her back and start to wiggle around, eyes locked with Octavia’s the whole while. Octavia continued to scowl down at the adorable mare.

“But it’s ouwr fiwrst Nightmawr Night as a coupwe, and it would bweak my wittle heawrt to go awone.” Vinyl stuck her bottom lip out and began quivering it.

“Vinyl, I sa--”

“You said that was the last time you would say ‘no’,” Vinyl cut her off, not moving from her place on the floor. Octavia’s face went blank. “So, in a technical manner of speaking, you have to say yes.”

And without breaking her facade. Wow. “Fine. I’ll go. But I am going to go as whatever I please,” Octavia said, unable, or unwilling, to counter the turntablist’s logic.

“Oh, no ya don’t,” Vinyl said, hopping to her hooves with a grin on her face. “It was part of my invite, which you said yes to.”

Octavia approached the bathroom, her face set in a scowl. “I will get you back for this. And it will be in a way you will not be able to think of it as remotely sexual.”

“Sure ya will, Babe,” Vinyl said with a smirk. “Now, let’s get you all prettied up for the party.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Lyra was standing in one of the few clear areas of the room. Bon Bon was saying something about how she needs to be more careful about spilling stuff because it could cause ponies to slip, but Lyra wasn’t listening. She just wanted to raid the refreshments table again.

“Have you heard a word I said?” she heard an irritated Bon Bon ask.

“Yeah.” She didn’t look away from the snacks.

“And what did I say?” the skeptical earth pony said.

“‘Have you heard a word I said?’” The green unicorn grinned and shifted her eyes enough to see her marefriend’s eyes widen and her nostrils flare. Before she could get yelled at, Lyra saw Vinyl approaching them. “‘Sup, Scratch?”

“Ah, nothing much. You?” The turntablist looked over her shoulder.

“Same Bonnie, different day,” the lyrist said with a shrug, ignoring a hoof to the ribs. “So, where’s Octavia? Were you not able to get her to come?”

“Oh, I was able to get her to come,” Vinyl said with a smirk, raising a suggestive eyebrow. Lyra snickered and Bon Bon just shook her head at their friends crude humor. “So, what are you two suppose to be? This is a costume party, and I don’t see any costumes.”

“Well,” Lyra began, “I am your everyday mare.”

“And I am a confectioner,” Bon Bon replied. “What are yo-- OH MY GOD! Where’s your horn?! Were you in an accident?” The sudden outburst caused Lyra to jump.

“Her horn? It’s on her head, silly. See,” Lyra said, pointing at her friends head, “right… there.” The confectioner and lyrist stood in stunned silence.

“What? You forgot the horn? And we would have been able to go the whole night with them fooled. Good going.” All three mares turned to see Octavia approaching them.

“I told you I wasn’t going to wear that stupid cone on my head,” Vinyl said, but with Octavia’s voice, raising her glasses.

“You weren’t calling it a stupid cone the other night,” Octavia, who now had a horn, said, but in Vinyl’s voice.

Octavia, who the other two mares realized came dressed as Vinyl, blushed as the two unicorns laughed and Bon Bon shook her head, but couldn’t hold back a smirk.

“Wow. Great costumes,” Bon Bon said. “I think it’s really cute.”

“Yeah. Props. And I am surprised you said that, Octavia,” Lyra chimed. “You really nailed Vinyl.”

“Yes,” Octavia said, flicking Vinyl’s signature shades back over her eyes, “I did nail Vinyl.”

The other three mares stared at the normally reserved cellist. “Oh, god. What have I done?”

Festivites - Beatrice Wilde

I took a look around me. All the couples looking so happy to be alive, to have each other. This wasn't at all how I wanted to spend New Year's Eve- alone, nobody to share it with. But of course I should be alone, me being the screw up that I am...

I'll be alone with nobody to share a special embrace with when the clock tower chimes midnight. Time to drink away my loneliness.

I trot into the bar and tell the barpony to hit me up with a suicide- or two or three...

Things begin to become blurry and I try and stand. By now it's around ten, I guess. I've been here for two hours. They were having karaoke night- might as well try it out. Nothing better to do. Nopony to gossip with. Nopony to share crazy stories with. Nopony to hold and cherish, even for a night. I'm a reject.

A reject who is going to sing away the drunken pain of this New Year's festival.

I wobble onstage and levitate the microphone to my face, clearing my throat. "Hello, everypony.! I'm Vinyl Scratch, and I'm gonna sing you a song! Uhm- Since You've Been Gone! This is dedicated to my lovely exmarefriend, Octavia Philharmonica!"

The music starts playing and the ponies around the small, circular stage clap some, a few giving cheers.

I wail into the microphone all about since she's been gone and how I'm moving on, and how I get what I want thanks to her. The ponies cheer, regardless. Even me, being as drunk as I was, knew that they were only cheering for the same reason I was singing. Alone and drunk on New Year's Eve- might as well live it up.

I woke up, shuddering, covered in sweat. I hate nightmares like that. Losing Octavia... No. I rolled over and stroked her mane, sighing that she was still with me through thick and thin.

It was almost midnight. New Year's Eve still... Time to not be alone! To prove my subconscious mind wrong! I will NOT be alone!

11:59...

Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven...

I grasped Octavia's shoulders and pulled her up into a kiss.

Four... Three...

She woke up, startled, then relaxing into my hooves.

One...

I pulled away, and nuzzled her ear, whispering, "Every day with you is a celebration for me, for as long as I have you, I have everything. Happy New Year's, 'Tavi... I love you..."

Leaving - Syvvak

“Please, Vinyl, don’t go!” Octavia sat on the sidewalk, her lavender eyes dripping with tears. “I’ll change. If you don’t leave, I’ll… I’ll listen to your music and not criticize it. Please, Vinyl, don’t leave!”

“I’m sorry, Tavi, I have to. I…” Vinyl’s words caught in her throat. She tried holding her own tears back, but was unsuccessful. She tried to keep from making eye contact with the crying earth pony.

Octavia stood up and took a step toward the white unicorn. “I’m sorry I broke your favorite vinyl. I.. I’ll get you another one.” Placing her hoof under Vinyl’s chin, Octavia looked into her red eyes, which were filled with both sorrow and sadness. “I love you,” she whispered.

Vinyl finally broke down. She wrapped Octavia in a bone-crushing hug, whispering “I love you, too” into her mane.

Two full-grown unicorn mares sat on a bench, watching their daughters crying into each others shoulders.

“I’m sorry you have to move to Manehattan for your work,” one said, turning her eyes from the fillies to the other mare. “Octavia seems to think it is her fault you and Vinyl are moving.”

“I have to support me and my daughter, and that means having to move.” Looking down at her hoof, Vinyl’s mother sighed, realizing their train was leaving soon. Standing up, she pulled the other mare into a hug. “We’ll try to visit often.”

The mares pulled apart, each wiping a stray tear from their eyes. “I’ll make sure to explain to Octavia it isn’t her fault.” Both mares laughed and walked to the fillies, who had to be pulled apart. Vinyl clung to her mother as they boarded the train.

Vinyl was pressed up against the window, wanting to see Octavia for as long as she could. As the train departed, Octavia waved to her friend for the last time.

Anger - SlightlySerious

“Dammit!”

“‘Tavi, I-”

“No! Shut up!”

“I just wanted to-”

“What?!” Octavia was yelling at the top of her lungs as she clutched the shards of wood and pieces of string that used to be her cello. “Say you’re sorry? Because sorry just fixes everything, doesn’t it?!”

“It was an accident!” Vinyl pleaded. “How was I supposed to know that the speaker would fall?!”

Octavia could feel the tears in her eyes as she attempted to pick up the pieces of the instrument that had been in her family for generations. “Well you shouldn’t have been so... so stupid!” She clutched the largest surviving piece to her chest; she didn’t even try to hold back the tears. Only moments passed before she felt a soft hoof on her back, but she quickly swatted it away.

“Just go away Vinyl.” She wasn’t yelling this time; her voice was broken and cold. “I just don’t want to see you anymore.”

The hoof was gone, but she could still feel the DJ’s eyes upon her. She wanted the feeling to go away; she wanted to be alone.

“Octavia...” she heard quietly; the voice only made her hug the broken wood of the cello more tightly as she sobbed. She wanted to look back; she wanted to see the mare that was trying so hard to be her friend; she wanted to see the pony that she called her marefriend.

In a moment of bravery, she glanced away from her broken instrument to look over her shoulder.

Nothing.

Vinyl was gone.

She was alone.

Magic - The Princess Rarity

A light piano sonata rang throughout the flat and alabaster hooves ran across the black-n-white keys professionally - playing an enchanting tune that was impossible not to hum along to. The unicorn manning the instrument had her beautiful crimson eyes closed shut underneath her gaudy shades as the music controlled her every movement and she loved it. The way she was completely vulnerable but nonetheless feeling fearless - as if she was flying. The melody picked up to the song playing in her head and soon, she could hear a light harmony of cello accompany her freestyling piano rhythm.

"Gotta love the classics, eh, Tavi?"

Octavia chuckled and shook her head playfully, quickly adjusting to the upbeat tune her lover played of the song that anypony who listened to music knew by heart.

"Sing for me." Vinyl teased, lowering her sunglasses and giving a playful wink to her marefriend, who blushed.

"Not if my life depended on it." the cellist smirked. "You know I can't."

"That's the beauty of music, Tav." the pianist said simply, pausing in her playing. "One, it's jazz. You can do what you want. Two, music is about being free. Again, do what you want." She stopped for a moment and chuckled. "Besides... I know you wanna."

"You go right on ahead." Octavia insisted, giving a nod as she never stopped with the beat of the song on her cello.

"From the top then!" Vinyl announced, restarting the famous melody and beginning to belt out the lyrics carelessly...

"Do you believe in magic, in a young mare's heart?"

Grumpy - Syvvak {Part 1}

“Tavi, I don’t like how it’s lookin’ at me.”

“Vinyl, ‘it’ is a girl, and ‘she’ has a name.” Octavia rolled her eyes at how her marefriend was acting. Her aunt had asked her to watch her cat for a few hours while she went out with her friends. She normally would have left her at home, but she had been to the vet and they told her to make sure the cat didn’t do anything to further injure its leg.

“But you always yell at me for calling you a ‘tard’, so I don’t want to get yelled at for calling the cat that, even if it is its name.” Vinyl’s glasses were resting on her horn, her eyes locking in deadly combat with the cat.

“Her name is Tardar Sauce.” Octavia looked at the cat. She was a creamy white, with chocolate brown ears and circles around her eyes, as well as a few lighter brown patches throughout her body. Most of her tail was also brown, Octavia noted, as it swished in front of the couch. Her face also seemed to be set in a permanent scowl. “You don’t have to shorten every name, Vinyl.”

“But Tardar Sauce is such a mouthful. Ain’t that right, Tard the Grumpy?” Vinyl said, grinning up at the cat from where she sat behind the couch. “Why the fwony face? Whyyyy soooooo grumpyyy?” She said the last part like the Joker from the Batmare movies. I need to stop letting her watch those so much, Octavia mused.

Before she knew what was happening, Tardar Sauce launched herself from the back of the couch, attaching to Vinyl’s face.

“AHHH!! TAVI, HELP ME!!” she cried, running around the room in a frenzy. Octavia fell off her stool as she laughed.

“Maybe- maybe you won’t- tease her anymore,” Octavia wheezed, having trouble speaking through the bouts of laughter.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!!! HEEEEEEEEEELP!!”

This caused Octavia to fall over again, rolling on the ground laughing as the door opened and a pink head popped in.

“Did someone say someone was grumpy and fwony?”

Concert - The Princess Rarity

Octavia breathed deep, letting out a sigh and glancing at herself in the mirror, adjusting her bowtie for the umpteenth time that night. Everything had to be perfect. She couldn't blow it. Her appearance was fine, but her nerves were shot. She didn't know if she could do this. They were agents out there! Agents! And now, here she was, supposed to perform Beethoofen's Moonlight Sonata flawlessly?

"Madame Philharmonica?" a tall thin pegasus mare questioned, glancing at the nervous cellist. "I realize this might not help, but you're on in two minutes."

Octavia nodded simply and swallowed. This was it. Her moment to shine, and hopefully make it. She could do this, couldn't she? She had known this piece since she was a filly, it was the first melody she had ever mastered. Why, she could play it backwards if she tried! ...But then again, stage fright was a sneaky little devil.

"And now, ladies and gentlecolts, our final performance of the night, may I present the young and wonderfully talented Miss Octavia Philharmonica..."

The announcer's words rang throughout the earth pony's head like a mantra - young. Wonderfully talented. Final performance.

'Oh, as if the pressure wasn't enough.' she thought bitterly.

Everypony had set through those other magnificent performances, and now, she was supposed to top those? She would probably have a better chance of sprouting wings right now and flying out the nearby window.

...But nonetheless, on shaky hooves, Octavia went onstage, looking through the entire crowd and now, she could barely stand up to play her cello as she saw multiple gazes completely locked on her and only her.

And yet, in the back row, waving her hooves like a mad mare, with a million dollar smile plastered on her expression, sporting her typical ruffian look, was none other than the one and only pony that could lift Octavia's spirits right now.

'Thank you for coming this concert, Vinyl.' she said to herself, as a small grin formed and in that moment, the beautiful melody wove from the cello strings and enraptured each and everypony in the hall.

It didn't matter if Octavia got that record deal now. Not if it meant each and every concert had that insane disk jockey in the crowd.

Question - Syvvak

It’s like she’s entrusting me with her future. Well, technically, I guess she is. Wow. This is huge. It’s funny how one simple question can change the course of one’s life forever. I can’t believe she finally asked me. Wow. After everything, after all the time we have spent together, she finally asked me. I should probably answer her. She may be getting the wrong idea, or be getting uncomfortable or something.

“Yes, Octavia,” Vinyl said, a smile lighting her alabaster face, “I would LOVE to take care of your double bass.”

“Thank you, Dear.” Octavia smiled after the retreating unicorn, who seemed to have an extra pep to her step. “I have been lugging that case around all day. I am so sore. I think I- DON’T YOU DARE DROP IT!”

Something caused the grey cellist’s mind to think of all the times her marefriend had made jokes about her ‘dropping the bass’ whenever she used a double bass. That would explain why she seemed awestruck when I asked her.

“Pfft! What? Pshaw! Octy, babe, you really think I would do such a thing?” Vinyl asked as she made it back to the living room. She sat next to Octavia on the couch, her blue tail mixing with the earth pony’s black, and removed her purple shades to rub her eyes. “I am accosted. Truly hurt. I…”

Octavia turned her head, raising an eyebrow. “Really, Vinyl?”

Boo! - Syvvak

“Boo!”

“Eeeek!”

“Hahahaha!”

“Vinol, stop scawring me like that,” a little grey earth pony filly pouted to her white unicorn friend.

“Aww, come on, Tabi. Whiten up,” Vinyl said, pulling off a white sheet. “It’s my sponsatility to scawr ponies. It’s Nightmare Night!”

“Well, I don’t wanna be ascareded. I don’t like it.” The grey filly hung her head in shame, her black mane covering her eyes.

“You don’t have to!” Vinyl squeaked, rushing to her friends side.

“But what ‘bout all the scawry costumes?” Vinyl looked into her friends lavender eyes and smiled.

“I will pertect you from them, so you don’t have to be ascareded.” As she finished, she stuck what she thought was a heroic pose.

“Really?” Octavia asked, looking hopefully at Vinyl.

“Of course. Stick by me, Ottabia, and I will pertect you.”

“For four evers?”

“Yup. I’ll be your internal pertector,” Vinyl proclaimed, glad she could use the big word.

“Internal? What’s that?” The grey filly looked on in confusion.

“Daddy said it means ‘for all time’. So I guess it must be longer than four evers.” Vinyl smiled, revelling in the fact she was teaching somepony something.

“Thanks so much, Vinol.” Octavia wrapped her friend in a hug.

“You’re welcome, Tabi.”

CLICK!

Octavia sat on the couch, clutching a photo album in her hooves. Her mother had given it to her, but it had gotten lost in her disorganized house. She found it when her and Vinyl were packing her stuff so they could move in together. And life had been good since.

She looked to her side, where her marefriend was sitting, but found the seat vacated. Realizing she must have zoned out into her memories, she sighed and closed the book.

“Boo!”

“Eeeek!”

“Hahahaha!”

“Damn it, Vinyl!”

Treasure - Runcible Spoon

“Vinyl, as happy as I am that you’ve started to take a liking to reading, even if it is fiction, I’m beginning to think that you’ve taken this ‘Daring Do’ thing a little too far…” Octavia said, looking around nervously at the dense jungle surrounding the duo. “I mean, purchasing a bit of paraphernalia is one thing… But going so far as to track down an actual lost tomb?”

Vinyl, decked out in her newly purchased Daring Do costume, simply rolled her eyes and grinned. “Aaaw, c’mon ‘Tavi! It’ll be an adventure!”

“Remind me again how you managed to talk me into coming with you? I was planning on relaxing all weekend, and instead I’m out traipsing through the jungle with you! There’s so much dirt!” Octavia complained as she stopped next to Vinyl, who had stopped to check her map and extensive notes.

“Let’s see… If we haven’t veered too far from my intended path we should be about here…” Vinyl muttered to herself, pointing to a spot on the map and ignoring Octavia’s protestations.

“Uh, Vinyl…”

“So if we alter our course like this…”

“Vinyl…”

“…should be able to shave off a few…”

“VINYL!”

Sighing in exasperation, Vinyl turned to face the gray mare. “Yes, ‘Tavi?”

“Is that what we’ve been looking for?” she inquired, pointing with a hoof in the direction of a rather large and difficult to miss step-pyramid in the distance.

Vinyl blinked slowly before looking to her map. “Hmm…”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Is it, or isn’t it?”

Vinyl glanced back at the temple in the distance, before again checking her map, then the position of the sun, then back to her map.

“Is it?”

“Octavia…” Vinyl drawled out slowly.

The gray mares eyes widened slightly, Vinyl never used her full name. Had she done something wrong? She didn’t think so, but maybe she had?

“I have no idea why you were complaining so much, you’re a natural!” Vinyl exclaimed, grabbing Octavia in a head lock and giving her a noogie.

“Vinyl, stop it!” she made a half-hearted attempt at escaping. “You’ll ruin my mane!”

“Mane, shmane! Let’s get us some treasure!”