Con Dolore

by Dark of the Moon

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Octavia, Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6368

"And how are we today, Miss Octavia?" "Fine," She muttered lightly, "perfectly fine." Octavia was always fine. As fine as a pony stuck in Healing Hooves Psychiatric Hospital can be, anyway.

con do•lo•re ; sorrowfully (used as a direction in music)

"And how are we today, Miss Octavia?"

Her light purple eyes jerked up from the carpet they had been absorbed in to regard the unicorn that had posed the question. Her name, Octavia knew, was Pink Plasters. Her coat was a pale pink, with a cutie mark depicting two plasters crossed over each other to form an X. The white mane and tail complemented her coat perfectly, in Octavia's opinion.

"Fine," she muttered lightly, "perfectly fine." Octavia was always fine.

As fine as a pony stuck in Healing Hooves Psychiatric Hospital can be, anyway.

[Cover art by yiKOmega on deviantArt, used with permission]

Published 2013-05-24 15:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-27 01:01:24 UTC

Chapter 1

The room wasn't white.

That might have been the thing that bothered her the most; the place not looking like it was supposed to. The room itself was large and open. There was a sectional couch arranged in a curved line at the front of the room near the entrance, and in the back there were several bookshelves and a few large, squishy armchairs, one of which she was perched on. There were even windows, large square ones that overlooked a small garden in full bloom. The carpet (not white tile, carpet) was deep blue, with specks and streaks of brown scattered throughout. The walls were a pastel green and were sprinkled with a liberal application of motivational posters. She didn't particularly care for any of the cheesy and quite frankly, ridiculous, depictions of rainbows and sunshine; but the one that bothered her the most was the one that sat on the wall directly in front of her. It depicted a cat hanging from a tree branch with the words "HANG IN THERE" typed in large capital letters. Just looking at it made her neck itch.

She tore her gaze from the offending poster and turned it back to the carpet. She stared intently at the brown bits and tried to sort them in to some kind of pattern; she was almost certain there was one, but she had yet to find it.

"And how are we today, Miss Octavia?"

Her light purple eyes jerked up from the carpet they had been absorbed in to regard the unicorn that had posed the question. Her name, Octavia knew, was Pink Plasters. Her coat was a pale pink, with a cutie mark depicting two plasters crossed over each other to form an X. The white mane and tail complemented her coat perfectly, in Octavia's opinion.

"Fine," she muttered lightly, "perfectly fine." Octavia was always fine.

Pink Plasters gave a slight nod as if she had expected the answer and pulled a clipboard wrapped in pink magic closer to her face.

"Good, good, I'm glad," she moved the clipboard back away from her snout so that it hovered near her side. "Your group is scheduled to be in music therapy, why aren't you with them?" She looked at Octavia disapprovingly, and Octavia knew she'd lost points for being "uncooperative". Octavia firmly suspected that her "points" were in the negatives by now, but she just couldn't bring herself to care very much.

The place she was admitted to, the Healing Hooves Psychiatric Center, used a point system to reward good behavior and punish bad. The more points you had, the higher level you were. There were 5 levels, the first was level 0, which was either ponies who were just admitted or ponies who were an immediate danger to themselves or others. Ponies were often temporarily labeled a level 0 after an "incident", which was what everypony called mental breakdowns around here. Level 0s were on one-to-one, meaning a nurse had to be with them at all times. Level 1s were ponies who had been here for at least two days and ponies who didn't have many points, but hadn't done anything so drastic as to merit demotion to level 0. They were allowed to wander the common room and their rooms unsupervised, but couldn't leave the ward without the group or a nurse. Octavia was a level one. Level 2s could go out into the garden that the common room windows overlooked and the small library. Level 3s could go pretty much everywhere the patients were allowed, unless they were eating disorder patients. Level 3 eating disorder patients still weren't allowed in the cafeteria or the gym unsupervised. Level 4s could be checked out by family members and actually leave the hospital, and depending on the amount of points you had you could get a half day pass or a full day pass. The higher your level, the closer you were to discharge.

Octavia was behind the curve. She had already been here a week; usually at a week you were at least level two, and some ponies reached level three in a week.

"Well?" Pink Plasters prodded gently.

Octavia considered telling her why she didn't go to music therapy. She considered telling the other pony that it was hard for her to even look at a musical instrument because they all reminded her of that night. She thought she might share about how one night and one stupid pink pony had ruined her life and her career. She might tell her everything...

But she didn't. She held the same indifferent expression she had been taught since birth carefully on her face. Her eyes didn't betray a trace of emotion as she delivered her perfectly calculated reply.

"I've got a bit of a headache today, so I thought I might relax in the common room while it was quiet." Her voice remained light and dainty, as a lady's should be, and her face didn't so much as twitch as the lie rolled off her tongue with practiced ease.

Pink Plasters look skeptical, but nodded anyway. "Be that as it may, Octavia, you know the rules," she used the pen tied to the clipboard to scribble something on the paper it held. "I'll have to dock you 10 points for skipping a scheduled therapy."

Octavia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead she gave a small nod. She didn't think she had any points to take away. So far, in the week she'd been at the hospital, she'd skipped three scheduled therapies. One group therapy on Monday, the day she arrived, the Tuesday music therapy session, and today's Thursday musical therapy session. She was fairly certain that those -30 points overwhelmed her 3 points a day for good behavior.

Good behavior really just meant taking your medicine.

Pink Plasters rolled her eyes at Octavia's indifference and without another word turn and trotted from the room.

Once she was gone Octavia, not seeing anyone around to witness the act, stuck her tongue out at Plasters as she walked out the door.

The room went silent again, and she knew that there wouldn't be anypony in the common room until a few hours later, when everyone came in for group therapy. Sensing a few precious hours of alone time, Octavia rested her head on the back of the chair she sat in and drifted off to sleep.

*********

The crowd was absolutely silent as the solo cellist stepped out of the wings. The high-class ponies in all their fine regalia watched with the scrutiny of a microscope as Octavia took the stage.

The walk from the right wing to center stage seemed to stretch for an eternity, like a tunnel that just kept getting longer and longer. Octavia could see her cello waiting for her, it's carefully polished wood shining under the stage lights. Her bow was propped up against it, all it needed was her to pull it across the strings.

After what seemed like hours she reached her instrument. With practiced ease she pulled the cello free of its stand and propped it up on its peg. She carefully raised herself on to her back legs, taking just a moment to find the perfect balance between her cello and herself, exactly as she had done many times before. Raising her bow to the nylon strings of her cello, she spared one small glance to her audience, then she began to play.

The name of the piece was "The Four Seasons", by Antailio Vivaldi, adapted for solo cello.

The notes came easily to her as she played her way across the first three movements. The piece was long, about 45 minutes long depending on the speed of the musician, but Octavia never tired. The piece was complicated, but her bow never faltered. She played all the notes perfectly.

Until she got to the fourth movement, 'Winter'. As she placed her bow on the strings she lost control of her hooves. They moved against her will and instead of the low building notes of Vivaldi's 'Winter', the first notes of "The Pony Pokey" screeched themselves out of her cello.

Octavia, horrified by the discordant shrieks, tried to throw the instrument away from her, but she couldn't. She had lost control of every part of her as her traitorous hooves continued to jerk the bow across her cello to create the most inharmonious and harsh version of "The Pony Pokey" she had ever heard.

The crowd began to boo at her, and she could only watch with tears gathering in the corners of her usually indifferent eyes as one by one everypony left the huge symphony hall.

As the last pony left the hall, her cello wrenched itself out of her grasp, making her crumple to a heap on the floor of the stage. The cello, still playing that song despite having lost contact with the bow, moved to hover a few feet above her head. She couldn't move or even scream as the nylon strings snapped themselves free of the neck of the instrument and began to descend towards her. She could only watch as the strings formed themselves into a noose, and she trembled with fear as the noose slipped itself over her head.

The strings began to pull her up, slowly and painfully. Having regain some control over her body she tried to struggle, tried to pull the possessed strings away from her neck, but it was no use, the strings were too strong and she couldn't get a good enough grip on them.. The strings continued to pull her up higher, higher, until her back hooves could no longer reach the floor.

She could feel the small strings digging in to her neck: for a moment she thought she might end up decapitated. The noose began to crush her windpipe, taking away her last bit of air. She began to see black spots dancing in her vision, like pretty party ponies dancing at the gala. She cast her eyes upward to the instrument of her demise, and the last thing she saw was a pink pony standing on her cello, grinning down at her.

And "The Pony Pokey" still played....

Author's Note

Hi! Thanks for reading, and please, if you see something I could improve on or something that just doesn't work, tell me! I love constructive criticism, it helps me improve my writing and future chapters.

Chapter 2

"Octavia... Octavia... Wake up!"

A sharp intake of breath was the only sign that Octavia had heard the nurse trying to wake her. When she opened her eyes she found she was staring in to the baby blues of Pink Plasters.

"Gah!" Octavia gave a decidedly unladylike squawk at the close proximity and flinched away. Behind Plasters she could see the rest of her group lounging on the big couch, waiting for the group therapist to show up.

Plasters gave her a look of sympathy and motioned towards the assembled ponies. "Come on, it's time for group."

Octavia gave a polite nod in an effort to save face and Plasters walked away. Reaching up with a hoof to brush the sleep out of her eyes, Octavia was horrified to find that her hoof came away damp. It was that stupid nightmare's fault, she had it every time she went to sleep, and every time she woke up crying. She grabbed a tissue from the large box that sat on the bookshelf next to her and dried her eyes and nose before anyone else could see. That was the good thing about mental hospitals, tissues were never in short supply.

She climbed down from the chair on stiff legs and went to join the others on the couch. She took her usual seat on the edge section, next to a mare named Typewrite, where she could twist her neck around to see the windows. From there she could see the garden, and beyond that, the parking lot. It was interesting to watch the ponies come and go. Obviously the ponies who were escorted in by some hospital's guards were patients being transferred, most likely involuntarily. But was the pony who walked in on their own a new voluntary patient, or were they visiting somepony? Was the pony walking out leaving from a visit or a newly discharged patient?

There weren't very many ponies in Healing Hooves, but you didn't really interact with anyone outside your group so it was hard to know everypony's face. Octavia liked to note any new faces that walked in and see if she could see them in the cafeteria later. There wasn't really much to do around the hospital except sit around and talk about your feelings, so any distraction was a welcome one.

The group therapist finally came in to start Group and Octavia suppressed a groan. She hated group therapy from the moment she was pushed in the front doors by the guards from Canterlot Hospital. She flat-out refused to talk about her feelings to the five random crazy ponies she had gotten stuck with. The group therapist, a mare named Blue Hearts, wasn't any better, with her stupid face making that stupid sympathetic look.

Octavia found it infuriating.

But today was different, Blue Hearts wasn't alone. Another pony stood next to her, a unicorn who was staring at the carpet between her hooves. Her mane was a spiky mess of dark and light blue, and her coat was perfectly white. Her cutie mark was two eight-notes, but they were facing the wrong way.

“Ok fillies and gentlecolts, we've got a new pony joining us today. I'd like you all to welcome Miss Vinyl Scratch.” Blue Hearts gestured to the mare beside her and a weak 'Hello' rippled through the group. Octavia stayed silent, having lost interest in the conversation as an entire family of pegasi arrived in the parking lot. One of them, the one in the middle, was crying. Maybe a new patient? Probably visiting.

“Ok my little ponies, why don't we all start today's session by introducing ourselves to Vinyl and telling her why we're here.” Blue Hearts rested a hoof on Vinyl's shoulder, causing Vinyl to jerk violently and snap her head up. Octavia, who had returned her attention when Blue Hearts started talking, noticed that the mare's eyes were a dark magenta.

“Don't touch me.” Vinyl almost hissed, taking a step away from Blue Hearts. The nurse assigned to Vinyl while she was a level 0, a stallion whose name Octavia didn't know, started to step forward, but Blue Hearts held up a hoof to him.

“Alright, Vinyl, I'm sorry.” Blue Hearts said in the most soothing tone possible. “It won't happen again.”

Vinyl, suddenly seeming uncomfortable, shuffled her hooves, which were covered from hoof to knee by a pair of black hoofwarmers. “'S all good.”

“Well, let's start introducing ourselves then. Let's start over here,” - she pointed to the left edge of the couch- “and go this way” - she swept her hoof over to the right edge of the couch, where Octavia was- “alright?”

Everypony gave some sort of affirmation, except Octavia, who remained silent as usual. She had already heard this song and dance on Monday, and she wasn't really interested in hearing it again.

“I guess I'll start then,” the pegasus on the left edge said. Her coat was light blue and her eyes were a darker navy color. Her main and tail were were bright green and she kept both short. Her cutie mark was two clouds covering a sun. “My name is Cloud Hopper, and I'm in here because I hear voices.”

She seemed completely unashamed by the admission. Cloud Hopper had been in here the longest of everypony, so she had done this song and dance many times before. She was a level 4 and expected to be discharged any day now.

“Oh, it's, uh, my turn now, um,” the next pony on the crazy couch was a light gray unicorn with pale pink hair and eyes. Her cutie mark was a paintbrush and palette. “My name is, um, Rosy Palette, and um, I'm here because I have social anxiety and, uh, regular anxiety and OCD,” Rosy's voice got softer and softer as she went on and everypony had to strain to hear the last bit. Rosy was a level 3, she just gotten promoted a couple days ago.

“My name is Comet Tail, I'm here because I'm a sociopath,” Comet Tail was an earth pony and the only stallion in the group. His coat was yellow, his eyes were blue, and his cutie mark was a star with a tail coming out of it. He had been demoted from level 3 to level 0 after he had talked his roommate, who had been admitted after a suicide attempt, into trying to hang himself with the bed sheets. All because Comet Tail found him to be particularly annoying. Comet had been transferred to Octavia's group immediately afterward. The nurse assigned to him was a big, burly stallion that looked like he hated the world.

“I'm Arithmetic, I'm in for bipolar disorder,” Arithmetic was a unicorn with a grass green coat and pale green hair. Her eyes were purple and her cutie mark was a complicated math equation. She was a level 3, close to becoming a level four.

“Typewrite is my name, I'm in here for my eating disorder, anorexia to be exact,” Typewrite was an extremely thin unicorn, with a pale sickly yellow coat and bright blue eyes. Her mane and tail were a light orange. Her cutie mark was a typewriter. She was a level 2, about halfway to a level 3.

Everypony turned to look at Octavia, who stared back impassively. Nopony had ever heard Octavia speak during group therapy.

“My name is Octavia,” her voice was quiet and cold, as usual.

“Would you mind telling everypony why you're here, Octavia?” Blue Hearts asked hopefully, trying to pry a response from the usually silent earth pony.

“Why yes, I would mind. That is my business.” She huffed indignantly and studied one of her hooves so she didn't have to look at the assembled ponies.

“She's here because she's a terrible musician,” Comet mumbled. Octavia pretended she didn't hear him.

“Comet Tail!” Blue Hearts admonished. “I'll have to dock you points for that little outburst.”

Comet groaned but didn't say anything else. His time as a level 0 had just been extended.

“Now Octavia, don't you think you should tell the group why you're here? You haven't said a word about it since you arrived,” Blue Hearts was doing it again, that stupid face. The one that said 'oh you poor thing' and 'I just want to help'.

Octavia said nothing and just stared at Blue Hearts with a flat gaze. Eventually Blue decided that she wasn't going to get any more out of her and moved to address Vinyl.

“Ok, then. Maybe Octavia will share with us another time. Vinyl, why don't you introduce yourself?”

Vinyl, all traces of discomfort gone, sat back on her haunches and polished a hoof on her chest. “Well you all know my real name, my stage name is Dj-Pon3, you may have heard of me. I recorded “Pony Rock Anthem” with my good friends Neon Lights and Pinkie Pie.”

Typewrite and Cloud Hopper both gasped.

“'Pony Rock Anthem'? I love that song!” Cloud Hopper's wings snapped open in excitement and Rosy had to move out of the way to avoid them. It was a practiced move, Cloud Hopper often got excited, and since everypony generally sat in the same seat, Rosy had gotten used to avoiding the flailing feathers.

“I do too! I danced to that song at my cute-ceañera!” Typewrite exclaimed, leaning forward in excitement. “You're famous!”

“A bit, yeah.” Vinyl smirked and stood up again. “And, uh, I'm here because I... well...” the discomfort was back again and Vinyl looked at the floor. “I'm here because I... hurt myself. Really badly.”

Blue Hearts made to put a reassuring hoof on Vinyl's shoulder but thought better of it. “Would you like to tell us what happened, Vinyl?”

She looked uncertain, so Blue Hearts prodded a little more. “The points system has been explained to you, right?” Vinyl nodded. “Well then you know that sharing in group will earn you five points and help you get off of level 0 faster. Having somepony follow you around all day must be annoying.” She gave Vinyl a small smile which the other mare returned.

“Alright, I guess I will then.”

Vinyl took a deep breath to steady her nerves and started.

“Well, I started to... hurt myself last year. I find that it helps me to focus, for some reason it clears my head. It makes me feel calm and in control.”

“Why do you need to hurt yourself to feel in control?” Blue Hearts prodded.

“Sometimes I get really angry. It helps me control it.” The other ponies could see a slight blush forming on Vinyl's cheeks that her white coat did nothing to hide.

“What is it that makes you so angry you have to hurt yourself to control it?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Vinyl poked at the carpet, still not meeting anypony's eyes. She could feel the pinpricks of tears forming in the corners of her own and she tried to will them away.

“That's ok, keep going.” The group therapist encouraged.

“Ok, um, it's not just anger. Sometimes if I get really scared or depressed it helps. Also, I sometimes have days where I feel... nothing. Like my head is full of fog. It helps with that too. It's a distraction from pretty much everything. I would do it a lot before my gigs, it's hard to go out there and be upbeat when you're a nervous wreck.

“What really landed me in here was a couple of days ago, when I hurt myself too badly and ended up in the hospital. After they patched me up they sent me here.” She finally looked up at the other ponies, most of whom were paying rapt attention, except Comet and Octavia. Comet was reading a magazine and Octavia was staring out the window, pretending she wasn't paying attention.

“Well, thank you so much for sharing Vinyl, that was very good. Now, does anypony have any questions for her?” Blue Hearts asked. She turned to Vinyl, “Remember, you don't have to answer a question you don't want to.”

“I have a question!” Typewrite almost shouted, waving a hoof in the air. “You keep saying you 'hurt yourself', what does that mean, exactly?” She waited wide-eyed for the answer and Vinyl shuffled her hooves nervously.

“Well, um,” Vinyl stuttered, “it means a lot of things. Sometimes I would throw myself again walls, a couple of times I touched my stove while it was on, but mainly it means that I... cut myself.”

Rosy audibly gasped and Arithmetic flinched.

“That's, really awful.” Arithmetic stated, a few of the other ponies nodded in agreement.

“I think that's enough for today. Thank you Vinyl, that was really great sharing. You may take a seat anywhere.”

Vinyl nodded and took a seat in the significant amount of space between Rosy and Comet. Rosy seemed relieved about having a pony between her and the sociopath and smiled a little bit at Vinyl, who returned it with a huge grin.

The rest of the hour was spent with Blue Hearts talking about developing coping styles to deal with difficult emotions. Octavia found the whole thing indescribably boring, and stopped paying attention about five minutes in. Instead she rested her head on the armrest on the side of the couch and stared at the stupid cat poster. Oh how she hated it. Just looking at it made her thing about hanging, which made her think about the dream, which made her think about the reason she was locked in here and that night.

“Yes, well that's all the time we have for today,” Blue Hearts concluded her speech and Octavia looked up. “I'll see all of you tomorrow, same time same place. Please do your best to make Vinyl feel welcome.” Blue Hearts waved to the group and a couple waved back, and out the door she went.

Finally.

Chapter 3

At Healing Hooves you always knew exactly what you were doing that day and when you were doing it. The schedule was always the same:

7am: Wake up call
8am: Meet in common room.
8:30am: Go to breakfast in the cafeteria
9:30am: Back to common room for medicine
10am: Free time, where you get pulled for individual therapy with your doctor.
11:30am: Group therapy 1
12pm: Lunch (and medicine, if needed)
1pm: Recreational therapy of the day.
2:30pm: Group therapy 2
3:30pm: Free time
4pm: Visiting time
6pm: Dinner (and medicine, if needed)
7pm: Free time (movie time on Fridays)
9pm: In your room
9:30: Lights out

The schedule was never deviated from. The only variations between days were which recreational therapy you were sentenced to. Different groups had different therapies on different days, and for group 2, Octavia's group, Monday was when the patients went to the gym to play a team sport, Wednesday was when they went for a walk around the hospital’s grounds, Friday was free day, where you could do whatever you wanted- within the confines of your level of course- and Tuesday and Thursday were Music and/or Art therapy. Which on you had depended on both what you asked for and what your doctor thought was best. Octavia had asked for Art, but her doctor had decided that Music was a better option for her.

One guess as to who's opinion won out.

“Wake up girls, time to get to the common room!”

Octavia didn't really mind most of the schedule, but this 7am wake up call was a load of horse apples.

Some nurse swung open the door to her and Rosy Pallet's room, letting the bright light from the hallway spill on to Octavia's bed. It was the one closest to the door, much to her annoyance. But Rosy was here first, so Octavia didn't get a choice in the matter.

“Ergrth...” Octavia groaned something that tried it's best to sound like 'Ok' to signal that she had heard and literally rolled on to the floor, landing in a heap of blankets and pony. Not the most ladylike of moves, but Rosy wasn't likely to say anything, if she was even still there. Octavia cracked an eye open to check and wasn't surprised in the least to see that Rosy had left already. Rosy was an early riser, usually awake, ready and reading a magazine in the common room before Octavia even considered regaining consciousness.

Octavia untangled herself from the blankets and spread them back on the bed in a way that resembled being made. Stumbling her way into the bathroom she shared with Rosy, she cursed the fact that the bathroom tiles were always freezing and propped herself up on the sink. She stared at her reflection in the shatter-proof mirror with half-closed eyes and was mildly repulsed by what she saw.

The pony looking back at her seemed half dead; her eyes were slightly red from the nightmare she had that night (and the night before that, and the night before that), and her mane resembled some kind of exotic sea creature. She thought to herself that she looked like one of the recovering zombies from Warm Ponies.

“Rrrrrr...” she growled at herself and laughed lightly. She thought that it might be fun to be a zombie, no worries, no responsibilities, just shamble around all day. The whole 'being dead' bit would be a bit of a downer though.

She snapped back to reality and went through the automatic routine of getting ready for the day- brush teeth, shower, brush mane, wish they had let her keep her favorite bow-tie, brush fur, and try to brush tail- and emerged from the bathroom looking slightly more alive. After taking a small moment to try and shake herself awake, she trotted out the heavy metal door and into the long hallway that led to the common room.

The way this section of the hospital was set up was kind of like a 'T'. In the middle was the common room, with two hallways branching to the east and west. The west hallway led to the mare's bedrooms, and the east led to the stallion's. There were two doors on the south wall of the common room, one led out to the garden, which was enclosed in a chain link fence, and the other led to the hallway that went to the elevators and the lobby.

To use to elevators you had to scan your bracelet, and you had to be at least level 3 use them without a nurse. The ground floor had the lobby, group 2's ward, group 1's ward on the other side of the lobby, and the library. The gym was a separate building that could be reached by going through the flower garden and following the flagstone path. The second floor had the cafeteria, the recreational therapy rooms, and the doctor's offices, as well as group 3's ward.

The workers at the hospital could tell where you were and weren't supposed to be by the color of your bracelet. Level 0s were red, Level 1s were yellow, Level 2s were green, Level 3s were blue, and Level 4s were white. Level 3 and 4 eating disorder patients had their bracelets marked with a large 'ED' to let the staff know that they weren't to be allowed in the gym or cafeteria unsupervised. If you were caught in a place you weren't allowed you were immediately demoted to level 0, and depending on the severity of the infraction you were either place on 'probationary' level 0, which meant that after a set amount of time all of your points were returned, or on 'permanent' level 0, meaning you had to earn all of your points from scratch.

Octavia still wasn't allowed to even leave the common room without an escort, not that it bothered her much, she doubted she would go anywhere if she could.

When she got to the common room she saw that all the other patients had made it in before her. Not usual, Octavia was not in any way a morning pony. A unicorn nurse was standing by the door and held her medicine out to her with pale yellow magic. Octavia wordlessly gripped the tiny paper cup in her mouth and tossed it back, feeling the small pill hit the back of her throat. A small cup of water was offered to her and she knocked that back too before going to take her usual seat next to Typewrite.

There was a soft hum of conversation around the common room, just like everyday. The news was playing on the TV, like it did every morning. In fact, the only thing different about this morning was the new addition to the Crazy Couch, the very, very loud new addition.

“Ok, so I'm at the royal wedding, right? And I'm hiding under my turntables; I was supposed to pop up, yell 'Let's get this party started!', then toss the mic to Twilight so she could sing her song,” Vinyl Scratch was telling a story to Hopper, Rosy, and Typewrite, complete with flailing hoof gestures, and in a voice that was way too loud and way too energetic for 8 o' clock in the morning. “But for some reason, I never got my cue! I was just sitting there, hunched up under the thing, and Pinkie Pie, who was standing right next to me, literally yanks me up by my mane, and says my line!”

Hopper and Typewrite burst out laughing and Rosy giggled softly. Vinyl snorted, while Comet and Octavia rolled their eyes. Arithmetic wasn't paying any attention, too absorbed in the morning news.

“And that wasn't even the best part of the night! After Twilight's song was over, Pinkie and I actually got everypony, Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor included, to do the Pony Pokey!”

Octavia's entire body went stiff at the mention of that horrible song. Time seemed to stop as her mind instantly went back to the night her career was stomped on. The night she managed to prove her parents right. The night where she failed, where she became blacklisted from ever playing at any major Canterlot venue ever again.

She shook her head ferociously to clear the thoughts away and stared at the floor, trying to will away the slight stinging in her eyes. She prayed to Celestia that nopony had noticed her slip of composure, that they were all too wrapped up in Vinyl's storytelling to notice her momentary lapse of stoicism.

Apparently Celestia wasn't listening.

Comet Tail smirked as he watched Octavia's minor freak out at the mention of “The Pony Pokey”. This was going to be very, very fun for him.

“Best not mention the Pony Pokey around Octavia here,” He drawled, a smirk in his eyes as he addressed Vinyl. “I'm afraid she can't stand it.”

“Aww, that can't be true, everypony loves the Pony Pokey!” Vinyl stood from her seat and moved to stand in front of Octavia, who glared at Comet with all the hate she could muster. “Come on! How can you hate the Pony Pokey? You reach your right hoof in, you reach your right hoof out...”

Octavia's glare moved from Comet to Vinyl. “Shut up.”

“You reach your right hoof in and you shake it all about,”

The entire common room was watching now, staff included. Octavia's hatred of the Pony Pokey was well known, it had been part of her introduction speech. Her exact words had been 'My name is Octavia, and I'm here because of the Pony Pokey. Please do not mention, sing, or reference that song around me if you wish to continue breathing'.

“Shut up before I am forced to strangle you,” she gritted out through her clenched teeth. Her eyes were nearly imperceptible slits and her ears were flat against her head. Every muscle in her body tensed as she dared the other mare to keep singing.

Vinyl moved in slow motion as she took an exaggerated breath and belted “YOU DO THE PONY POKE--”

She was cut off as a gray body slammed against her with all the force of an earth pony, throwing her backwards and slamming her against a bookshelf. Octavia was on top of her, back legs straddling her middle while Octavia's front hooves struck at her wildly.

All Octavia could see was pink. That horrible giggling rung in her ears as she threw blow after blow. Most didn't connect, but Octavia didn't care. She poured out all her anger, all her hatred for both that song and the pony who ruined her life into each punch.

Vaguely she heard Rosy scream- or maybe it was Hopper- and a nurse call for the guards. She felt the strange sensation of warm unicorn magic enveloping her as someone tried to pull her off of Vinyl, who was also shouting.

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” Octavia hadn't realized that she was shouting too. She felt a guard lift her off of her target with unicorn magic, but it didn't matter. She flailed about wildly, her eyes locked on Vinyl, who was being led away by a nurse.

With the target of her attack gone, her swings began to get slower and slower, until she hung limp in the guards magical grasp. He lowered her on to the floor where she collapsed, limbs having been turned to jelly.

As she came to her senses she noticed all the destruction she had caused. Two bookshelves had been knocked over in the fight, their contents spread all over the floor. A chair had been overturned as well.

She shifted her gaze over to the other patients to find that Rosy was sobbing loudly, and Pink Plasters was trying to calm her down. Arithmetic, Hopper and Typewrite were staring at her with wide eyes, Typewrite's jaw was almost on the floor. Comet was doing a very poor job of concealing his smirk, and the guards that had been called in were glaring at her angrily.

Suddenly Octavia realized what exactly she had done. She had attacked another pony, all over a stupid song. A wave of shame washed over her and her cheeks went pink as she looked meekly up at the guard who stood over her.

“Get up,” He grunted harshly, and Octavia struggled to comply. She wasn't entirely sure how long she had been swinging, but by how much her legs were wobbling it seemed like it had lasted at least a couple of minutes. After a few seconds of struggling, the guard sighed and pushed her up on to her hooves.

“Follow me.”

Octavia was too tired and embarrassed to do anything but follow the order. The guard walked out of the common room and Octavia followed, her head hanging in shame. They walked in silence to Octavia's room, the second of the four bedrooms, and the guard pushed open the door. He motioned for Octavia to go in, then propped the door open with a door stop before following.

“I'll need your bracelet, please.”

Octavia tried not to cry as she pulled at the yellow bracelet around her left leg with her teeth. The sound the plastic snap made as it came undone sounded like a judges gavel to her ears. She knew what that meant.

The bracelet was pulled from her mouth by dark blue unicorn magic and deposited into a nearby trashcan.

“A nurse will come by later with your new bracelet. You're being demoted to a permanent level 0,” The guard waited for Octavia to nod her understanding then went to take his post outside her open door, leaving Octavia alone.