Really Bad Fanfics: Love Thy Enemy

by Wolfboy183

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, DJ P0N-3, Dark, Alternate Universe, Sad, Romance, Original Character, Octavia, Tragedy
Length: 8716

Octavia must choose between Vinyl Scratch or her masters at the Equestria Music Conservatory, who want to capture and kill Vinyl Scratch, whose music they believe is blasphemy

The Music Consortium reigns supreme in Equestria, and dictates all music in the country from their stronghold, the Conservatory in Canterlot. Octavia, born in Canterlot, raised at the Conservatory, an excellent celloist and faithful representative of the Consortium, is called in and interrogated by the Consortium's secret police regarding her love affair with Vinyl Scratch, a banned dissident. Rather than being executed, Octavia is ordered to turn Vinyl Scratch in. Now she must choose between her loyalty to her masters, or the love of her life, who has shown her that the Consortium is not as pure as she thought it was, and that it stamps out true peace and love that music is supposed to promote.

Published 2013-05-12 20:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-12 20:50:02 UTC

"Bring Her In"

On the stroke of midnight, Octavia drew her bow across the strings of her cello, a gentle low B-major note. As soon as she gracefully swung her bow away from the cello, there was a brief silence, then the audience clapped their hooves. Octavia and the rest of the performers in the Moonlight Symphony bowed, thanking the audience. A few ponies along front row tossed roses and flowers up on stage. Their recital was finished. Another successful performance, even with a tough crowd of Canterlot’s toughest music critics.

They had performed in the Amphitheater of the Equestria Music Conservatory, the institution that governed all music in the country. To perform there was a huge honor, even for an alumni such as herself.

As the crowd filed out into the lobby, the performers and the stage crew began packing up the instruments. Exhausted, Octavia placed the cello in its case. She enjoyed performing, but felt a tinge of sadness. Her best friend and love of her life wasn’t here to see the show. But she reminded herself that there was no way she’d ever come back to the Conservatory.

“Miss Octavia!”

She turned to see one of the stage crew, a young earth pony approaching her.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I- er- I have a letter ma’am. It’s for you.” He gave her a closed mauve envelope.

“Thank you, that will be all,” Octavia replied curtly. The pony smiled awkwardly, and said, “By the way, great performance tonight.”

“Oh, but I’m one of twenty five performers, just your average celloist. Now, if you please, I must go.”

The pony nodded and trotted off.

Octavia retreated to her dressing room and opened the envelope. It was sealed with a stamp- the marks of the Consortium, the ultimate authority in music.

She pulled out the delicately folded document, unfolded and read it:

Dear Miss Octavia,
A stunning performance this evening! You have made great graceful leaps since graduating our academy, and performing with the Moonlight Symphony. I dare say that your career is already bringing you great success. I commend you for your work.
With all due respect, however, I must speak to you with an urgent matter, concerning a rogue musician, whom you had been seen with by our agents. It has come to my attention the manner in which you have interacted with this unicorn. I see an opportunity here. I invite you to meet me in the Grand Dining Hall at 70° tomorrow morning for breakfast, so we may discuss this matter at proper length. Until then dear,
Sergeant Maroon Blackhoof.

Octavia’s heart skipped a beat, and felt her blood rush through her body and her breath shorten. This was no invite, it was a compulsory summon. Maroon Blackhoof was a high ranking officer in the Conservatory’s secret police. She sighed. They wanted Vinyl Scratch, the love of her life. And they were very unhappy with her.

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

The door opened, it was the band conductor.
“Ahem, Miss Octavia, if you please, we are going to retreat to our quarters in the hotel. Won’t you come and join us?”

Still unsettled by the note, she replied, “Sorry Mr. Clef, I’m not feeling well. I need to sleep soon.”

“Very well. The stage crew and guides will escort you back to the hotel. See you in the morning then. Cheerio.” And he closed the door.

Octavia sighed sadly. She didn't know what to expect at breakfast tomorrow. She was scared.

+ +

Dressed in her usual formal attire- a black suit with her signature pink bow tie, Octavia stepped nervously into the Grand Dining Room, a huge eatery in the hotel.

“This way, Miss Octavia,” the servant politely beckoned, directing her over to a table by the large window. As she followed the servant, Octavia spotted the maroon stallion, also dressed in a black business suit, sitting at the table. Maroon Blackhoof. Mr. Blackhoof as he was to be addressed.

“Good morning, dear,” he greeted her, then to the servant, “That is all, you may go now.”
The servant trotted off, and Octavia nervously sat across from him. “Good morning, sir.”

“Care for some tea?”
“Yes, please.”

“The first course will be baked apple stew and corned bread.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Not at all,” Blackhoof said, “My colleagues and friends enjoyed your concert. A stunning solo you performed, well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” Octavia said, trying to keep the grace in her voice. She feared all that she had been taught at the finishing school for young mares was beginning to unravel. All thanks to Vinyl Scratch.

“The meal will be served in due time. I’d rather we have finished discussing the matter at hoof before we eat. The food will go down better.”

“I agree, sir.”

Blackhoof sipped his tea, then placed the cup back in its little saucer and put them on the table.
“Now then, to business, dear. It has come to my attention that you had been fraternizing with a rogue musician by the name of DJ-Pon Three, a.k.a. a miss Vinyl Scratch, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Octavia replied nervously.

“And it has come to my attention you made very little progress in bringing about her enthusiasm for the proper kind of music.. I have also read reports from other agents that you, ahem, have become friends and even romanced with this traitor, am I correct?”

Octavia gulped nervously, and felt her blood run cold. She expected some of the other ponies sitting around them to suddenly get up, walk over, and arrest her. She couldn’t even look at him anymore, and gazed down at his teacup.

“Go on, tell the truth.”

“Yes, it’s true. I...I...I’m sorry-”
Blackhoof raised a hoof, silencing her, then spoke quietly: “Of course, you would be viewed as a traitor, arrested, jailed, and perhaps executed. Romancing with the most dangerous musical fugitive in the country is tantamount to treason my dear. Against yourself, your family, your professors, the Moonlight Symphony, and everypony in the entire Conservatory. A swift execution would be a proper, but too quick of a solution. I took over your investigation because I believe if they sacked you, it would be a tragic and pathetic waste.”

Octavia was stunned by what she just heard. She wasn't’ sure how to react, or if she should even feel safe here.

Blackhoof continued speaking. “On the other hoof, I see you as a very valuable agent for us. Unlike the thousands of dimwitted, simple minded ponies corrupted and swayed by Vinyl Scratch and her infernal music, you, my dear seem to remain entirely intact, and refined, just the way you were taught here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were immune to Vinyl Scratch’s corruption?”

“I-I never liked her music. I always found it to be annoying racket,” Octavia admitted.

“Either way, my dear, you are in a lot of trouble. I think you should know that I am the one keeping you alive right now. For a purpose. This Vinyl Scratch only trusts a select few in her own circle of friends and bodyguards. She stays close with them, and my agents can never seem to get close enough to her. They have made attempts on some occasions, only to be attacked by her own bodyguards. Does Vinyl Scratch trust you, Octavia?”

“Yes, I think she does...”

“Then, I am assigning you a new role and a new task in regards to her. I need you to draw out Vinyl Scratch, safely away from her entourage, so that my agents can apprehend her. Prove your loyalty to us by doing so, and you will be cleared of all wrongdoing.”

“But...with all due respect, Vinyl isn't foolish, She has a special sense, and she can easily figure out if somepony’s trying to trick her. She- she’ll easily see through me if I ask her to come to a remote place.”

“Hmmm...” Blackhoof mused, “Well then, perhaps, you will have to bring her here yourself. Tell her it’s a special occasion.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no way she’ll ever come back to the Conservatory. Vinyl knows there’s a death warrant out on her. She won’t even come to Canterlot unless she’s surrounded by her entourage. And she still won’t buy it if I try and lure her out to where your mares can get her.” Octavia held her breath, scared of what Blackhoof would do if angered.

“Do you know why we allowed you to romance with her, Octavia?”

“...not really...”

“Because you now have a wealth of information on Vinyl Scratch, and the groups she associates with. I can see by the look in your eye you know she won’t be easily fooled. That you will have to earn an even greater trust in her to coax her out of the range of her protectors. Might I ask, what in Celestia’s name do you see in her? She’s a witch. A monster, a heathen, a corrupted wench to be cast in the fire. Do you even know how you connect to her on such levels?”

“...not exactly, sir. I felt it when I first met her. Same thing must’ve happened to her. We just clicked. We don’t always get along; we fight all the time, we argue, we-”

“I have full detailed reports on all of your private disputes from where my agents could get close enough,” Blackhoof cut her off, “You tried to convert her to classical music, she tried to convert you to her brand of...infernal cancer of the sounds. One of you tries to be the leader and dominate the other. And from the reports I received from our faithful spies who have watched you, you aren’t on the upper hoof of your relationship, are you?”

Octavia just sat, stunned by what he had just said. Blackhoof knew all her private business with Vinyl Scratch. She was terrified.

“We watched you, waiting to kill her and take you in. Nopony in the conservatory wanted to see a promising young mare such as yourself go down the wrong path and deviate from musical righteousness.”

“Permission to speak, sir?” Octavia asked, trying to keep her voice in check. She was very unsettled and a bit emotional. Blackhoof was pulling at the nerves in her that spelled love for Vinyl Scratch.

“Go ahead, dear.”

“When you do capture her, will you kill her?” A pleading question, the tones and frequencies of her voice told Blackhoof’s well-trained ears that she didn't want Vinyl to die.

“That all depends. How about I make a deal with you: You bring Vinyl Scratch to me anyway you can. Doing so, you will have helped us take down a grand enemy and traitor of the Conservatory and music, and proven your loyalty to us. In exchange for your work, Vinyl Scratch will live. She will be reformed to our liking, to the extent of every single cell in her brain. She will repent for her sins and treachery, and when all is done with her, you will get her back. Think of it as a reward.

“I know you love Vinyl Scratch deeply, which is why I fully expect you to carry out this new mission. Because if you fail, she will be killed, make no mistake about that. Think about it, dear Octavia. Imagine your lovely Vinyl Scratch, dutifully attending your recitals, clapping for you every performance; waiting on you when you return home; doing your every bidding, making love only when you ask of it. You will be the master of your relationship, and she will forever be in her place, and love for you will be the light of her life. She will again learn to appreciate the music that the Consortium promotes. And of course, she will be all yours when we are done with her. how about it?”

Octavia couldn’t answer right away. “...How will you...get her to change? She’s so....”

“We have ways, dear. New ways, but ways. Our legion of unicorn mages and doctors who work for us are becoming skilled at new methods of breaking and re-making the minds of ponies who deviate from musical righteousness. Get me Vinyl Scratch, and we will gladly remake her for the benefit of yourself, the Conservatory, and all of ponykind.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Octavia stammered nervously. She had no right to protest or disobey his order, but she still was worried if she’d even have room to carry out the order in the way she could do it.“How long do I have? If I attempt to rush things, she’ll catch on pretty quick”

Blackhoof shrugged, “There’s no real deadline, Octavia; However, I do ask that you report to us periodically. In addition, we will be watching you and Vinyl, and my agents will only intervene at my discretion. That should make it easier on you, simply keep your beloved Vinyl distracted, do what you can to bring her out, and if the odds really do stack up against you, like I said, you have backup, and we will move in. Report to me on your progress or lack of, hell, you a free to ask for assistance if you wish.”

“If I may ask?”
“Go ahead, dear.”

“Is she to be captured sooner than later?”

“Sooner the better, but I see no point in rushing. Are there anymore questions?”

“N-no sir, I know what to do.”

“Very good then. Shall we eat?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excuse me, sir.” A black-suited earth pony approached Blackhoof.
“Yes, what is it?”
The two whispered for a minute, then Blackhoof got up from the table.

“I’m sorry dear,” he spoke to Octavia, “I must go. Duty calls. By the way, you have been discharged from the Moonlight Symphony, and all other major obligations. Your primary work is as we discussed. Transportation back home has already been arranged.”

Octavia’s heart sank, but she managed a “yes, sir.”

“Very good,” Blackhoof said as he walked out of the dining hall with the other pony.

+ +

How They Met

Octavia met Vinyl Scratch purely by chance. Before then, she knew of her, and as morally trained by the Conservatory, she viewed her as a criminal. The Conservatory posted ‘wanted’ posters in some places, calling for the capture and repatriation of DJ P0N-3, with a reward of 10,000 bits in return. Every so often, the Conservatory increased the amount, even for information that could aid its’ secret police in catching her. Octavia first saw the posters in Las Pegasus during her stay at the castle-like St. Germain Hotel.

Everypony at the Conservatory knew of it’s (not so) secret police, and their means of enforcing its prescribed values on all music and musicians in Equestria. Throughout the country, untasteful musicians disappeared, or were found dead. Lucky ones were found beaten, and left with a warning. The premise of this brutality was typical: make bad music, and Celestia shalt strike thou down. The Conservatory boasted itself-named status as Celestia’s enforcement branch concerning music.
Very few ponies lived to tell the tales of their horrific experiences in the medieval dungeons and torture chambers deep below the Conservatory’s campus. Those who did were ignored and their stories downplayed. But the Conservatory’s students knew full well of brutal punishment anypony faced if they fell out of line in regards to music.

All pieces created by students, along with instrument use proposals had to be enforced by officers of the Consortium, the ultimate authority that ran the Conservatory and all its subsidiary institutes. Those rogue musicians whom the Conservatory’s gestapo couldn’t catch were labelled enemies of the state, and any measure was taken to take them out.

At the time Octavia had begun performing for major groups, Vinyl was in the same position as a smalltime background DJ, or a simple re-mixer making and editing music in between performances of the DJ’s she worked form. Then, Vinyl blew the audiences off their hooves when she made her first performance. She had an instant fandom overnight, and ponies flocked to her shows and swamped her for autographs. The band of artists she was a part of got her signed up to her own deals with record companies, and within a year of her first show, she began scratching out albums by the hundreds. Despite all the records, stores were often sold out of her albums.

It didn’t take long for Vinyl to catch the attention of the Conservatory, who basically put out a death warrant on her, not because she was famous (she was still a smalltime artist among the hundreds of DJ ponies), but because she was from the Conservatory. In their view, she knew better.

Vinyl Scratch’s upbringing was anything but stable. She was diagnosed at a young age of having attention deficit-hyperactivity disorder, and she was more than a hoof-ful for her parents, whom were of an elite musical family. They had great expectations for Vinyl, but quickly wrote her off. When she was just five years old, they left her at the Conservatory’s boarding school, and told her not to contact them until she was a big time classical performer. While all the other foals recieved visits, presents and opportunities to go home for holidays, Vinyl’s family wanted nothing to do with her.

The teachers were brutal on slow learners, and those with short attention spans. They meted out corporal punishment for anything. Vinyl got her share of strikes and beatings. She associated classical music with their brutality, and came to dislike it. She invented all kinds of music, and wrote compositions that made her teachers and veteran musicians turn pale with fright.

At the tender age of 9, Vinyl received her cutie mark, a backwards double quaver note. Her teachers saw this as a good sign, but it only made Vinyl’s creative works even more erratic. To scare her into conformity, she was forced to watch executions of musical criminals.

One traumatizing experience was when Vinyl and her classmates were forced to watch the burning of a pegasus popstar. Her music was high energy, upbeat, and way too cheerful for the Conservatory’s somber atmosphere. The singer was very famous in Cloudsdale, and a ‘dangerous’ inspiration for millions of young pegasi according to the Consortium. She was shot down, boxed up, and shipped here.

As she struggled in the ropes that bound her to the large metal stake, a group of deranged old priests gave their grisly sermon. Vinyl and her classmates, and even Octavia, had to watch. She was a beautiful, sleek, majestic mare, with a seemingly glossy white coat, with azure, pink, and amber mane and tail; and crystal aqua eyes. She had a cutie mark of four musical notes showering the world with red hearts. Cutie mark experts suggested that meant she was to spread love and peace to the world through music and song. Something the cold hearted moralists in the Consortium wouldn’t stand. It was a threat to their power and authority.

The pegasus mare cried and pleaded, even as masked ponies grabbed each of her wings, unfolded them, and nailed them to two wooden poles on either sides.

“Let the heathen burn!” the old priest shouted, and the pile of wood, doused with oil, was lit. The pegasus screamed as she burned. Vinyl developed a deep dislike for the Consortium for what they did to such a beautiful and magnificent creature. She also feared she’d be burned if she didn’t conform, so she tried. She even tied back her naturally spiked mane in an effort to look proper.

However, everything she created was thrown back in her face. The cranky old teachers seeming despised her, and often humiliated her in class. After she sang a song in private, the grumpy old earth ponies suggested she be burned at the stake as well.

Then at age 15, she was pulled out of class, and forced to sign a pledge document never to create music again, unless she wanted to die or spend the rest of her life in the dungeons. Out of fear she signed it, and she was dragged to the train station, and sent far away.

For several months, Vinyl lived on the streets, on the run from freaks and criminals that lurked the seedy neighborhoods of Manehattan. She lived on scraps and charity from local churches. She prayed often at one church for an improvement in her life. And she got it when her ears caught an entirely new form of music she never heard before. So Vinyl went in, and was immediately hooked. She payed the 20 bits she scraped up, entered the club, and watched the DJ’s closely. Whenever she got the money or when she could slip past the bouncers, Vinyl frequented the nightclubs. One night, she was mistaken for a helper, and got to meet the DJ’s and help carry their equipment in from the cart outside. Pretty quick they gave her a job as part of their crew.

Being in the crew, Vinyl Scratch got to tour Equestria with the artists. She got to see the dazzling cities and towns for the first time. Her first trip to Cloudsdale on a zeppelin was like entering an entirely new realm. During a day off from work, while the DJ’s were sleeping, Vinyl was allowed to venture out in the cloud city under the escort of the pegasi secret police. She asked to see the memorial of the popstar mare who was killed by the Consortium.

“Oh, you mean Spark Heart? Of course,” and they took her to a large hydroglass statue of her. Vinyl laid flowers at its base, and bowed.

Her masters, the DJ artists were hugely popular among the Pegasi, and they spent months touring the cloud cities. Vinyl even got to sit in at a lecture they gave to aspiring pegasus musicians and DJ wannabe’s

At the age of 17, Life gave Vinyl the ultimate opportunity: DJ SpitMic suffered some kind of stroke while at the controller, and collapsed. The room was filled with bright lights and smoke, and few ponies in the audience realized what had happened. As the crew tended to DJ SpitMic, and dragged him off stage, the controller, computers, and record players were briefly left unattended, the music track playing out. Without a second thought, Vinyl jumped on stage, and put her hooves to the discs. It was a smooth transition, from SpitMic’s performance into her own, and cheers came from the crowd, when they realized a different show was being played.

Before the crew were about to grab Vinyl and drag her off stage, the other disc jockeys stopped them, and let her continue. They left the rest of the night to Vinyl while they tended to SpitMic. Vinyl was in her own little world, playing with the music and performing more for herself than the crowd. At the end of the night, when they did stop her, the DJ who hired her to be crew shouted to the crowd, “Mares and colts, DJ Scratch!”

The crowd cheered, stomped their hooves, and whistled at her. “Scratch! Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!”

Later that morning, after the club was empty, Vinyl resumed her job of helping the others pack up the equipment.

“Don’t worry about that, Scratch,” DJ AmberSiezure called out to her.
“But...I’m supposed to help pack,” Vinyl protested, despite her sheer exhaustion.
DJ AmberSiezure, a golden mare with glistening copper mane and tail approached her, “Scratch, you did so much tonight. I can’t thank you enough for saving the show, and covering our flanks.”
“Is SpitMic going to be okay?” Vinyl asked.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He’s been at it way too much these last few months. You could say he’s struggling to make new stuff. You on the other hoof, where the hay did you come up with that...stuff?”
Vinyl blushed and looked down at the floor. She was still very shy back then.
“I...I don’t know. It just came out of me when I took over.”
“Well, Scratchy-poo,” Amber laughed, “I hope you got alot more where that came from. We need fresh stuff!”
Vinyl gulped nervously. Only now she realized she was performing in front of hundreds of ponies.
“My...name’s Vinyl.”
“How about Vinyl Scratch?” Amber suggested, basically assigning her a new name. She couldn’t say no.
“Or better yet, how does Pon three sound?”
“...sure...” Vinyl said nervously.
“Good filly,” Amber said, patting her on the head. “Now go get some sleep. the crew’s got it covered.”

And so they had her performing on stage after them. Vinyl never could explain it then, but her subconscious opened her up and everything just flowed through her as she scratched and wubbed at the control.

Vinyl took it one step further early on. During a show at the cloud city of Spitassus, Vinyl obtained a Spark Heart album, and remixed it. Before she began, she took the mic and spoke for the first time to the audience: “This part of the show is a tribute to the late Pegasus popstar, Spark Heart.”
The audience loved it, but she unwittingly caused an uproar. The next day in the hotel room, AmberSiezure grilled her hard for going off the program.

“I thought it was a good idea. The audience loved it,” Vinyl protested.
“That doesn’t matter if they loved it! Think of how many more Pegasi will be pissed off when they find out you mocked their star singer!” Amber shouted back.
“I didn’t mock her, I-”
“It doesn’t matter, if they think you did, then you did, hooves down! You need to ask me before you do reckless things, Scratch!” Amber fumed.

“Why is it such a big deal?” Vinyl protested.

“Because, Scratch, these pegasi are freaks! You piss them off, they will kill you! They hate wingless ponies, like you and me! They think they are better than us. We’re only here because they like our music. Otherwise we’d be jailed if not outright killed!”
Young Vinyl teared and cried. She never wanted to anger Amber. “I’m sorry.”
Amber sighed, “We got damage control to do now. Just hope this mess blows over without any real hitch!”

Fortunately, most pegasi saw her tribute as a tribute, and the group’s ratings went up. Turned out Vinyl Scratch (called DJ Scratch at the time) became more popular than the rest of the group. She was carrying them at some shows, and of course, she was raking in the bits by the sack load.

While the Pegasi demanded more performances, the group could only be in the cloudlands for so long without going crazy from the stress of it all, and they often went back down to earth to keep up appearances in the major cities.

Vinyl got her first reality check when she heard from AmberSiezure that the club bouncers caught and hoof beat a Consortium agent. The group discussed changing her official name from DJ Scratch to DJ Pon-3 as to protect her identity. The record companies that supported the group assigned them bodyguards. They sure as hell weren’t going to let the Consortium take out their best DJ.

When she was 19 years old, the group split apart amid an explosive fight that erupted from months of tension and drama. The others grew jealous of Vinyl, and hated her. When they did split up, she went to the record company in Manehattan, who gave her new deals.

During the split up, Vinyl ran into Octavia at a market in Hoofington. Before the two could react from the bump-in, they looked each other in the eyes and the spark that bound them together went off. It was a very brief moment, and the two of them passed each other and resumed their shopping.

+ +

Octavia was also brought up at the Conservatory filly boarding school. She was also born into a prestigious Canterlot musician family. Both her father and mother were members of the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra. Her father was also a music historian, and he taught at the Conservatory’s school and college. It was only natural they wanted the best education for their darling filly, so when she was five years of age, she was also enrolled at the boarding school, though placed in a different class than Vinyl Scratch.

Octavia was well mannered, well disciplined, and well behaved. She learned her lessons well, and was a pleasure to teach. Teachers delighted when they saw her name on their class lists each year. Octavia performed in filly musicals and instrumentals. She played the violin, the viola, the cello, and a bunch of other string instruments. She sang in the choirs, and was even in the church choir. Her parents delighted in her success.

Octavia came to firmly believe in the Conservatory’s morals and values in terms of music, and was taught to hate music rebels. Still she didn’t like how the teachers treated those fillies who fell out of line. She witnessed beatings, chastizations, and other forms of brutal and humiliating punishments.

When she was 16, she and her classmates were brought out into the vast courtyard of the Conservatory, to witness the burning of Spark Heart, the Pegasus popstar. She was just as traumatized as Vinyl was when she had to watch the popstar die. Nopony in the school had ever heard Spark Heart’s music, so the priests had an easier time telling them how evil, despicable and cleverly disguised she was. They droned on during their sermon of how she was part of an ultimate Pegasi conspiracy to corrupt and kill them all.

Despite her beliefs, Octavia struggled with why Spark Heart had to die, and even questioned to herself the explanations given by the priests and officers. She and her classmates witnessed many brutal public punishments and executions carried out on captives brought in from the furthest reaches of Equestria. All they had to go on was the explanations given them. Many simply went along with it, but she didn’t see why they had to be so cruel, and she couldn’t imagine what kind of music could make ponies evil (even more so than the Consortium).

Octavia didn’t dare mention her doubts to anypony out of fear for her own safety. She kept quiet, and continued in her studies and performances. She wrote her musical thesis on music’s connection to the physical and psychic health of ponies. When she completed it, the priests of the Conservatory forced her to write an additional chapter, in which they dictated she write how ‘evil’ music made ponies evil.

Her thesis was a success, as well as her solo performance to mark her graduation from the college. At her parents’ encouragement, she had also attended the finishing school for young mares.

Right from the beginning, Octavia’s career as an in-group and solo performer was a success. She had become a new delight in Canterlot, and across Equestria. Unlike Vinyl Scratch, she didn’t perform in Cloudsdale or Spitassus. The Consortium had a prejudice against the Pegasi in the clouds, though pegasi raised on the ground were not subject to this hatred.

But like all performers, careers waxed, peaked, then waned. It was a cycle that repeated itself for the Conservatory’s musicians, who went out, then came back to learn new ways of making music or performing. Octavia became a freelance performer, travelling to and from cities, playing alone or with random local groups, teaching and being taught by them, and of course, preaching the Consortiums ways. She was hired on as a teacher at a music school in Manehattan.

Living expenses in Manehattan were through the roof. Most ponies lived in apartments, and only the true upperclass of the city had their own homes. Octavia was lucky enough to live in a dorm room at the music college, then the place was badly damaged in a devastating fire. Octavia was forced to find a new home, but the living expenses, along with rent always threatened to put her on the streets. She wanted to relocate to another city, but as per the Consortium’s orders, she was to remain at her present job in Manehattan. Then she got the eviction notice, and was struggling to find a new home. She had a flair for independence, which made her turn down her parents’ offer to return home to Canterlot.

With mere days to go before she was to end up on the streets, fate turned Octavia in a new direction- down the aisle in the market where she, off in her own world, not looking where she was going- collided into Vinyl Scratch.

+ +

The spark she felt when the two of them looked into each other’s eyes triggered a flood of feelings in her she never felt before, and if she didn’t know better she would have admitted to falling in love with this unicorn.

“Uh, I’m terribly sorry, my dear,” Octavia managed to say. The unicorn, whose headphones around her neck blasted strange beats and notes, also seemed to be jolted out of her own world.
“Uh, my bad,” she said nervously. They locked eyes for about 15 seconds before going their separate ways. “Have a nice day.”

Octavia never knew why she was thinking about the unicorn she met all day. It was as if her world had been dark this whole time and suddenly a light shined, from her. She grew curious, not suspicious like any other Conservatory member would, of the strange music that echoed from those large headphones. She never knew music could be played from a device like that.

Octavia considered following her after she left the market, but the mystical white unicorn with dazzling aqua-azure hair. But she vanished quickly.
Later that evening, Octavia bought a magazine with that unicorn’s picture on it. The headline read, “DJ P0N-3: RISING DUBSTAR ON THE EAST COAST”
Excited, Octavia read through the magazine, and looked at the pictures of her. She learned about the strange music called ‘dub step’ and gasped at the pictures of the equipment the ‘dub stars’ used. So this is the kind of thing the Conservatory frowned upon. She had a brief zeal of indignation towards this dubstep, but it faded. She felt drawn by this DJ P0n-3 than pushed off by her moral prejudice.

Octavia found the nightclub DJ P0n3 was performing at and paid the bits to get in. The bouncers sized her up, but deemed her no threat and let her in. She found the music so alien, and even terrifying considering the energy it brought up in her, a kind of excitement and angst she never felt before...and she got a killer headache. But she saw the DJ spinning away at the controller between the large stacks of speakers. Then in a brief instant, the DJ removed her trademark violet glasses, and locked eyes with her.
It was as if Octavia got some telepathic message from her. “This is my world! Welcome!”

Octavia felt like she was in the forbidden realm of musical debauchery and sacrilege. She suddenly feared retribution from the Conservatory. Then she saw a surly looking pony staring right at her, and she spotted the clef cutie mark on his flank. He was an agent of the Consortium.

He knew. She knew. Before she could react, the bouncer ponies, huge hulking stallions suddenly converged on the agent, and tackled him to the ground. She backed away behind some dancing ponies, and watched as they pounded the agent with their hooves. Then they dragged him off and he was gone. Stricken with fear, she quickly and quietly exited the club, and galloped back home.

+ +

The next day, Octavia sat in despair on a bench at a local bulletin center.The place was packed with ponies looking at the posters and notices on the wall, and others sitting on the benches. It was cold, even in here, and some ponies wore coats, shawls, and hoods to keep the cold air out. For her it was a decent cover.

In the large cities like Manehattan, they had public land phones so she could call the ponies who posted ads looking for roommates. The prospects were no good. They wanted too many bits, and she was nearly broke. She was still reeling with the fear, knowing she was well in enemy territory. A musical realm where ponies despised the Consortium and it’s promoted music. Where they listened to unholy audio garbage. The music college she taught at was merely a remote outpost of the Conservatory in this gigantic urban jungle. She felt eyes were watching her. She was right to assume she was being stalked.

She got up and trotted over to the public phone again and punched in a number. It was the last ad on the board, requesting roommates. Sure she could live at the college, but the dorm was being rebuilt. She didn’t want to be here. She felt dirty, corrupt, tainted, and in need of repentance. Then her stalker broke the silence when she sat back down.

“Psst,” came the familiar voice, right in Octavia’s ear. She gasped and spun around.
“Chill out, you,” she giggled,”
“Oh, it’s you,” Octavia breathed quietly, not wanting to cause a scene.

“What are you doing here?” the DJ, cleverly disguised at the moment, asked.
“Just...looking up accommodations,” Octavia replied, “I...I need a place to live. I might have to leave town.” She reminded herself to be at the train station at 120° (30° in the afternoon, or around 4pm).
“No you don’t,” the unicorn chirped in her ear. “You can live with me.”
Octavia spun around to face her, surprised by this offer, and they looked each other in the eyes again. She felt that warm fuzzy feeling, the feeling of being loved surged through her.
“R-really?” Octavia stuttered nervously.
“Yes,” she replied, then she leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Octavia blushed as her blood ran hot, and her breathing quickened. She had no room to back away. As they locked eyes again, the unicorn nuzzled her nose. Octavia closed her eyes briefly, but then a load of things ran through her mind.
For some reason, she got a flashback of the pegasus popstar who was burned at the stake. She denied she could be an icon of evil, and same with this unicorn who was flirting with her. Somehow, the unicorn sensed this, as if reading her mind. She didn't know it, but they were already in sync.

“Octie,” the unicorn said, surprising her again, “Why did Spark Heart have to die?”

The question hit her like a log to the stomach. Was this a test? She already knew her friggin’ name too.
“How do you know my name?” Octavia gasped nervously.
“Easy,” the unicorn replied, “I saw you in the magazines. Do you know who I am?”
Octavia gulped, and said, “You’re D-”
She quickly placed a hoof over her mouth, silencing her. “Shh! Just call me Vinyl. The fans will go crazy. Why do you think I’m all covered up?”
Octavia nodded, indicating she understood, then Vinyl continued whispering in her ear:

“I was there when they flamebroiled Spark Heart. Before they torched her, she was one of the most beautiful pegasi I saw in my whole life. I never heard her music at the time but I saw her eyes, and she was anything but the evil those priests made her out to be. I’ve listened to her music, Octie, it is some of the best, joyfilling music anypony’s created. Makes you think, don’t it?”

Octavia nodded. “Yes...” Suddenly she felt extremely conflicted with all she had been taught, and a sudden truth that threatened to derail everything she believed in.
“So, lovely,” Vinyl whispered, “Why do you think she had to die?”

Octavia knew her answer deep down. She repressed it. She wanted to ignore it, but now she was being forced to bring it all up. It hurt to do so. She didn’t think Spark Heart died because she was ‘evil,’ she died because those who called her evil were evil themselves, and she was the greater good. For all Octavia speculated, one song, and Spark Heart could have dispelled easily all the rigidity, control, and fear mongering the Consortium had done for ages. She told this to Vinyl.

“Exactly. Evil calls itself good, and labels good evil. Come live with me, Octie, and see for yourself a musical world they kill to keep hidden.”

“Uh-”

Before she could react, Vinyl leaned in close and kissed her on the lips. She felt the gentle warm tingling all over her as Vinyl embraced her with her magic. She didn’t resist, she found herself relishing in the moment. An illusion crashing down, revealing more beautiful things, such as Vinyl. She had to realize that she was already in love with her, and wanted her badly just as much as Vinyl wanted her. Vinyl pulled away finally, and whispered, “Come on, let’s go, I’ll help you with your things.”

+ +

Forbidden Love

Ever since the day Octavia moved into Vinyl’s apartment, it had been her home for years, and the two of them forged a unique, stormy, yet solid relationship. They quickly learned they disliked each other’s music, and yet one tried to get the other to appreciate her music. Vinyl Scratch found the classical music boring as hell, and dubstep irritated the hell out of Octavia and gave her killer headaches. Octavia preferred tame, calm crowds, where Vinyl liked the high energy jump-up-and-down crowds who thumped the floor to her beats.

But at the end of the day, their love, which Octavia figured even the best trained physicists and biologists in Equestria couldn’t figure out, brought them back together and they spent many days and nights together in bed, nestled up with one another. Their relationship became typical, and the two became complicit in each other’s stark differences.

In their year together, Vinyl had shown Octavia an entirely new world, and she showed her how to live and work safely in Manehattan, and get along with the ponies here. To help keep her safe, Vinyl had her bodyguards keep a watch on Octavia too, and keep the Consortium agents away. As for Octavia, she eventually forgot all about the Consortium, and it’s threats.

Manehattan was like a cake. A half rotten cake. It was a pristine city, with hard working ponies, the elite, and the socialites. Manehattan had a wonderful musical community which the Conservatory adored for its classical tastes.

Then again the city’s underside was very seedy. The underground was plagued with crime and filth, inhabited and frequented by ponies who didn’t subscribed to the tenets of ‘normalcy.’ Crime, drugs, and prostitution were rampant, but many ponies sought escape from their mundane day jobs frequented the massive nightclubs where the DJ ponies played their dubstep, electronic, and techno ‘music’

Vinyl performed in the smaller clubs. Though not as famous, she was well liked by her audiences. Vinyl loved to spin, and she couldn’t get through a day without creating, remixing, or spinning music. At home, the unicorn spent much of her time spinning, or lying on a beanbag chair spaced out with those huge headphones on. She was more obsessed about her music than Octavia was passionate about hers.

The only time Octavia got to spend with Vinyl was when Vinyl dragged her to the clubs and concerts. Octavia was not a crowd pony, nor did she like loud noise, especially that synthetic ‘music’ Vinyl played out to the fans.

+ +

A few weeks ago, Octavia got an idea: a new home in a small town for her and Vinyl. She looked up listings from several towns, and aimed for the prestigious town of Ponyville, home to only 4000. She performed there and throughout the county several times with many orchestral groups. Ponyville was her favorite place to go in that region. She could perform every few days to the locals. And she would get her much needed alone time with Vinyl.

Octavia brought up the idea during lunch one day.

“Ponyville?” Vinyl chirped, as she took a swig from juice carton. “Never heard of it.”

Octavia didn’t react. She hated Vinyl’s lack of manners. She told her a thousand times to pour the juice into a glass, then drink it. She cringed when Vinyl let out a loud disgusting belch. Vinyl looked at her, then said, “Excuse me.” At least she tried sometimes with the household manners. ++

Octavia rarely succeeded in getting Vinyl to come out to one of her performances, perhaps once or twice a month, but as Vinyl admitted, the ‘mundane and sadistically boring classic music’ was agony for her, and she was bored as hell at Octavia’s concerts. But when at home Vinyl did put in effort to listen to new pieces Octavia composed. Then she always commented, “We should remix that!”
“Why do you always see the need to remix my music? Why not take it for what it is?” Octavia protested.
“That will put me to sleep if I don't kill myself already!”

Granted, Vinyl Scratch didn’t have the best social skills, a lacking that obviously explained her rudeness or lack of courtesy. She burped, she farted, walked around the house with her headphones, dragging the cables everywhere, she left the bathroom and kitchen in a mess, and she loafed all over the place. She was a strange one. Vinyl hardly ever appreciated a day when Octavia dragged her out of the house for a simple walk around Sunrise Park, or to one of the little streetside cafes, unless she had her blasted headphones around her neck. The music was her addiction; Octavia’s nightmare. Vinyl once told her that music was the most important thing in her life, and she needed it as much as air, water, and food. Though Vinyl loved her, the music was non-negotiable in their relationship. she’d never give it up, not even for her.

And Octavia had somewhat limited success in teaching Vinyl some of the basic courtesies, and thankfully, Vinyl obliged. Sometimes when she wasn’t too carried away with things.

“Which would you rather have? Me, or the dubstep?” Octavia demanded during one of their heated arguments.
“What are you talking about, Octie? I’m not giving up my music, and I sure as hell won’t give you up either! I’m not trading you for the music. I’ll take both,” Vinyl said with a scoff. Then she pounced on her and kissed her. Octavia knew full well that Vinyl hated angry confrontations, and did whatever to throw her off and diffuse her anger, such as sudden steamy makeout sessions. Octavia grudgingly admitted to herself that Vinyl got her everytime. Her love for Vinyl and her need for Vinyl’s love for her always got the best of her.

Octavia always asked herself, even now on the train as she reminisced, why the bloody rotten hay was she with a unicorn like Vinyl anyway? She thought of an odd couple in Ponyville: a loony crazy unicorn named Lyra, and her stern proper counterpart, Bon Bon. She had been to Ponyville enough times to take note of some of its inhabitants. When she first met Lyra, she had no idea why Bon Bon was her girlfriend. Now that oddity made sense.

She and Vinyl were polar opposites. In another parallel universe, the two of them probably tried to kill each other. They couldn’t stand each other’s music, and yet, they couldn’t be without each other. The polarity in musical differences made the relationship hot and bumpy with uncounted disputes and arguments, but the bond that the universe forged between them kept them together like high powered magnets.

Octavia sadly reflected, that throughout her life, from her upbringing in proper high Canterlot society, to her 15 years of education in the Conservatory and at the finishing school for young mares, and throughout her young career as a classical celloist, nearly everypony she met was kind, polite, well mannered, and cordial, but in the same tune, very cold. She noted during her performances on stage from her looking at the audience, couples hardly touched one another or shared a single move of affection. Such animalistic behavior was considered primitive and beneath their standards. Sure she had friends and mentors, but nopony, not even her parents ever provided her that loving warmth that Vinyl Scratch had. She was psychologically deprived and she never even knew it until she ran into Vinyl, who showed her a new world of closeness, love and intimacy. She craved it, and she needed it, like a drug. She also questioned her own educated thoughts in which the Music Consortium’s morality forbade such things.

That is why Octavia tolerated Vinyl’s infernal ‘music.’ That’s why she joined her onstage in the clubs when Vinyl was hardly ever home. The best times were when both were at home together, and they cuddled and slept together. Vinyl admitted once a long time ago that lying in bed with her was the only time she could take off the headphones and finally rest. Octavia happily noted that Vinyl needed her as much as she needed Vinyl, and that she wouldn’t get tossed away for the music.

+ +

A few months earlier, during a brief stay at the Conservatory, Octavia was searching class records when she stumbled across Vinyl’s. She was more than surprised that Vinyl Scratch also came from the Conservatory. Turns out she was born in Canterlot and placed in the Conservatory’s boarding school at only 3 years of age. The names of her parents were inked out. Hidden from view of the librarians, Octavia pulled out the folder and skimmed through the stacks of reports that spanned twelve years- Vinyl’s fillyhood.

It turns out she was difficult, not rebellious, just different and hard to reach. She was finally expelled from the Conservatory, and removed from Canterlot at the tender age of 15.

When she got home, it took some effort to coax Vinyl to talk about her life at the Conservatory. Vinyl was not one to talk about her problems; she’d rather drown them out in her music. One day, something happened, and the power cut out, cutting off the music, and Vinyl had a nervous breakdown. After her rage fit, Octavia entered the room and tried to comfort her. She got her talking, and all at once, Vinyl Scratch spilled the beans and cried it out.

She told her tales of abuse and maltreatment by the teachers, who tried to repress her oddities with brutal discipline and such. The two of them spent the day on the cable strewn floor of her ‘wub’ room, leaned up against the silent speakers. Vinyl’s upset triggered her own memories of harshness she endured during her own upbringing at the Conservatory, and she cried a bit too.

Then, the cathartic session was ended when the power came back on and the music resumed. Vinyl snapped back to her normal self and acted as though nothing happened.

+ +

Despite all this, Octavia was still loyal to the Conservatory, and she tried to keep her relationship with Vinyl Scratch, one of its most wanted felons, a secret. That didn’t last long, and resulted in her meeting with Sgt. Maroon Blackhoof.

The Conservatory came calling.She was terrified. Not of being shunned and executed, but of losing Vinyl Scratch. Sure she was told they’d reform Vinyl, but how much would she be changed? Would she become another cold b*** like all the other mares who prance around Canterlot? Would she still be affectionate and loving? How would they reform her?

It was a gamble she decided she had to take. Vinyl Scratch without the crazy racket music. Octavia entertained the idea. She knew she was the subordinate one in the relationship, and Vinyl was on top. She never liked that. But if she refused to obey her orders, she would also face death. Rather than that, she’d gamble on Vinyl Scratch being captured and reformed.