Battle Royale

by River Road

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Octavia, Comedy, Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3
Length: 3058

Octavia's performance is continually thrown off-rythm by an obnoxious unicorn mare and her "wubs"; but two can play that game...

It is quite possibly the most challenging performance Octavia has ever had to prepare for, and a certain DJ seems intent on making her mess up.

VinylTavia friendshipping.

Credit where credit's due: This story probably wouldn't have an awesome cover if I hadn't seen it at the most hilarious VinylTavia story I know. And the story itself would probably only be half as good (or twice as bad), if not non-existent, had I never read this story about violins and fur dye.

Published 2013-10-16 20:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-16 20:40:02 UTC

Fight for Music

There she was.

Octavia would have recognized that white coat and electric blue mane everywhere, even without the mare’s trademark violet shades and the quarter notes Cutie Mark. The unicorn mare was walking right towards her. Octavia saw the recognition flashing across her face and both mares stopped, just a few feet away from each other.

A slightly condescending grin appeared on the unicorn’s face. “Miss Philharmonica…” she said in an overly sweet voice bowing in an exaggerated manner.

“Miss DJ…” Octavia kept her voice just as polite and emotionless as her face. She resumed her trot, trying to get past her rival before the other mare could reply.

“So…” Octavia flinched a little, but stopped to hear what the unicorn had to say. “Giving another one of your concerts again, ‘Tavi? Ponies still aren’t bored of that?”

“Indeed, Vinyl.” Octavia turned back around to face the DJ, letting just a hint of frustration slip into her voice. “And I’ll assume that you’re going to one of your races again.”

“We both know that you know it’s called Rave!” Vinyl didn’t even try to hide her irritation.

Octavia allowed herself a small smirk. “I’m surprised you still have fans that haven’t turned deaf yet… Well, I suppose they must have been tone-deaf in the first place.”

“Oh really?” Vinyl shot back. “At least they can appreciate good entertainment, and music with more than one instrument! I could do some strumming on your oversized guitar and still play my gig at the same time,” she said haughtily.

“I’m sure you could,” Octavia replied, turning around again to continue on her way. “Have fun on your race, DJ P-Zero-N-Three.”

She didn’t look back, but she could imagine her rival flinching.

Octavia stepped up to the podium. Her trusted cello was already leaning against it, just like her favorite bow. She made sure that her old friend was perfectly tuned before setting the bow on the strings and turning towards the audience, her eyes closed and a calm expression on her face.

The first soft notes resonated out from the podium. Octavia like to start with a simple piece, to warm up herself just as much as the audience. The music began to speed up quickly though, and the notes became more complex while she–

Thump

The sudden disturbance came unexpected, throwing the cellist completely off-rhythm and forcing her to stop playing. Octavia looked around in confusion. A small gasp escaped her and her eyes widened when she realized where the sound had come from.

Over to her left, not far away, stood Vinyl. Her equipment was fully set up and powered, and she was wearing what was quite possibly the smuggest face Octavia had ever seen on a pony.

Octavia shook her head and closed her eyes again. She set her bow back against the strings and started into the piece where she had been interrupted. Just ignore her, Octavia. Whatever she’s doing here, surely she won’t–

Thump Thump Thump Thump

Octavia recognized the sound instantly. It was the obnoxious bass that the unicorn was known for, her trademark besides the purple shades, even. Alas, that knowledge didn’t do anything to help her stay in-key, and within seconds Octavia had lost her hold in the classical piece, lead astray by the deep throbbing coming from her left.

“What’s the matter Tavi?” she could hear Vinyl over the sound of the bass. Her voice was amplified by a small microphone around her neck. “You’re getting a little off there. I thought I’d help you out by setting the speed for you, but I guess that doesn’t work either. How about you just take a break and I’ll take over and give these ponies a real show?”

Not waiting for an answer, Vinyl began to work her music, switching out one disc on the turntables for a new one and playing with the controls. Ponies in the crowd started cheering her on, while Octavia was left standing to the side and almost forgotten.

The cellist growled quietly at her rival. If that’s how you want it, two can play that game. She raised her bow and closed her eyes again, concentrating on the DJ’s music. It didn’t take her long to find the patterns, and without hesitation she began playing herself, starting into a part from a short piece by Jacchineigh.

This time she knew what to expect and kept her guard up. Without fumbling a single note she made it through the slow intro; the music turned into a small and upbeat rhythm, dominated by a row of strong strikes. It only lasted a few bars, but that was enough to force Vinyl out of her beat and into Octavia’s own. Octavia lowered her bow at the same time that Vinyl stopped her own music.

“Not bad, cellist. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Vinyl shot her an approving glance – or at least that’s what Octavia assumed, since she honestly couldn’t tell through the shades. “How about we try something a little different, then? I told you I could play your stuffy music just as well, didn’t I?”

With that she brought one of her front hooves under each record, expertly flipping the discs up and catching them in the air to set them aside. For the first time this evening her horn lit up and three new discs floated upwards while Vinyl furiously recalibrated the controls of her equipment. Finally the first disc floated onto the turntables and Vinyl began to make music.

…Classical music. Octavia watched in astonishment as Vinyl rapidly switched discs with her magic and moved them back and forth with her hooves. The music was still the same dubstep Vinyl used during her gigs, but the DJ played them so expertly that she created completely new music; more important, it was a piece that Octavia recognized as one of her own compositions, albeit in a slightly deeper pitch.

Vinyl finished about the suite with a deep bow. She was panting heavily from the exertion, but the adrenalin had etched a wide grin on her face. She turned her head to Octavia and crossed her forelegs, daring her to do better.

Octavia took a deep breath to calm down. “As much as I loathe saying this… I’m impressed. It’s unconventional and you could without doubt keep up with most of my colleagues.” She gave the DJ a saccharine smile, making her voice as friendly as she could for the next sentence. “You should cherish that praise… It will help you cope when I beat you at your own game.”

The cellist straightened herself and leaned back against her cello. She closed her eyes and took one last deep breath, then lifted her bow against the strings once more.

The first few notes of the new suite filled the room. It was another piece Octavia had composed herself, specifically for this occasion. Vinyl raised an eyebrow; so far there was nothing that really set this piece apart from the cellist’s usual work.

Octavia tensed up slightly. She was nearing the vital point of the composition; just a few more strikes with the bow and…

A deep bass filled the stage, washing outwards over the crowd. Unlike Vinyl’s throbbing electronic bass, this was more of a humming sound. While Vinyl’s music hit a pony right from the front and delivered small punches to the chest, this new bass moved through the hooves and right up through the legs; the sound assaulted a pony’s spine from both sides, making it vibrate as it resonated through the whole body, moving from both sides and meeting in the middle, just to spread outwards again from there on.

For a whole five seconds every pony, including Octavia and Vinyl, were completely paralyzed; then the cellist ran out of bow-length and had to move on with her music. Even so, she was quite sure that this was a personal record. Every musician trained hard for their performances, but Octavia was always at her peak when she was performing on a stage.

The music continued, developing a steady bass line as Octavia continually brought the pitch as deep as possible with her instrument. The crowd cheered for her, just like they would for Vinyl, only interrupted whenever the low hum of the cello sent another chill through their spines.

After several minutes of this Octavia finished with one last humming bass, almost as long as the first one. Though she would never allow herself to show her exhaustion like Vinyl had, she estimated that she had strained herself not any less than the DJ had during her own solo. A quick glance at the unicorn brought her the satisfaction she had hoped for: the DJ just stood behind her turntables, mouth agape and staring at the cellist with (presumably) wide eyes.

“What do you think, Miss Scratch?” Octavia allowed herself another smirk, not trying to hide it this time. “Did I, as you would say, ‘work that crowd’?”

Vinyl brought a hoof up to close her mouth, then cleared her throat in an attempt to recover from her short slip-up. “Yes, that, uhm… It wasn’t all bad, I’ll give you that. I’d even say it was pretty good, for a rookie.” She cleared her throat once more, this time regaining most of her usual bravado. “What do you say Tavi, are you up for a duet?”

“Anytime, Vinyl,” Octavia replied with a smile, already moving back into her preferred playing position. Vinyl grabbed another disc from her seemingly endless supply of records, fiddled with her controls for a moment and turned the music back on. Octavia waited two bars before starting into the piece herself.

They began playing, assisting each other’s music with their own and always completing the other, filling tiny holes in the music that nopony had even noticed were there. Sometimes Vinyl would underline one of Octavia’s solos with a bass line, and other times Octavia would pull back and just complement Vinyl’s music with simple, repetitive patterns or her own humming bass. Everypony in the audience was completely trapped in the fusion of the two types of music.

And then Vinyl fumbled.

It wasn’t a planned mistake, nor was it something that either of them could just play down. It was the kind of small mistake that ruined the flow, and caused much more damage than was reasonable for such a negligible slip.

Either way, the music stopped.

“So, Tavi, you ready for this?”

Octavia looked at her friend, who was already fidgeting to get into position for their act. “Definitely. Are you ready?”

“Like you even have to ask. I was born ready!” Vinyl made a grand gesture, spinning around on her hind legs once before setting back down on the ground.

“Two minutes!” one of the workers bellowed from somewhere behind the stage.

Vinyl gave her friend one last playful wink before putting on her trademark shades. “So… got any sage advice you want to get out before we go out there?”

Octavia thought for a moment. “I do, actually. It’s something my old music teacher used to tell me… ‘If you play a wrong note, play it again’.”

“Really?” Behind her shades, Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.” She turned around to trot towards her side of the curtain, mumbling something about ‘musician humor’.

Octavia watched with concern as Vinyl stood paralyzed behind her turntables. Without the music, the stage and everything around it was filled with deafening silence. Nopony in the audience said anything. They all watched as the DJ slowly raised a hoof and brought it back onto the record. Slowly, in what seemed like an eternity, the music picked up again. Octavia hesitantly picked up as well, bringing much needed support to the electronic sound. Vinyl took the lead, choosing the rhythm and notes and, after a moment, lead the music back into a part they had already played, only a few moments ago. Octavia’s eyes widened; was she actually going to–

If you play a wrong not, play it again

The dissonance bore its way through the music. It was exactly the same mistake that had brought the music to a stop a minute ago, and somehow it was even worse this time around. But this time Octavia and Vinyl soldiered through. Octavia noticed several of the Canterlot nobles getting to their hooves, obviously determined to leave. It would take them a moment to actually get to the exit, but not too long, either, since most of them were seated in the VIP area.

Vinyl brought the music around one more time, much quicker than the last time. The dissonance shook the stage, and this time it was followed by two more; one of them was Vinyl’s, the other had been made by Octavia. More mistakes followed in quick succession.

Octavia watched as the leaving ponies paused, hesitating. Surely this kind of slip was to be expected with a common DJ like Vinyl, only a matter of time, even. But now the First Chair Cellist, the Musical Prodigy of Canterlot was doing the same?

The music was still playing, still dominated by the dissonance it had started with, but now it was becoming a recurring theme rather than a wrong note. Octavia and Vinyl changed the pitch, dancing around each other in a spiral of music and mistakes. Octavia had raised her wrong note an octave, Vinyl had lowered it. Then Octavia was suddenly playing her humming bass, slightly off-key, while Vinyl was mixing the high pitches, and back again and around and around.

The dissonance moved closer to each other, growing while it spiraled out of control of anyone but the ones that had raised and nurtured it, the two most skilled faulty musicians on the whole stage. Within moments it was only a single step apart, teased the audience as well as the musicians, backing away for a second before crawling towards itself again.

And then it was there.

An explosion of a wrong note, a detonation of dissonance shook the stage and the area around it. Something that was never meant to happen and was never meant to last, that could only in theory be kept up for that long and played with in a way like this, finally culminated in a deafening crescendo, the intricate notes of classical music delivered with the full power of a DJ’s custom-built equipment.

Octavia stepped into the small room that had been set up for the two musicians. There had been a few more hours of music after the ‘Dissonance Disaster’, or whatever the press would call it, and now it was way past midnight. It had been some time since a concert had last exhausted her like this, and it had been almost as long since a concert had last made her feel so alive.

“Woo-hoo! That. Was. Awesome! You still holding up, Tavi?” Vinyl was sitting on a small stool in one corner of the room, her purple shades lying on a table beside her. Behind her one of the posters of this evening was taped to the wall.

BATTLE ROYALE

DJ PON-3 vs. OCTAVIA PHILHARMONICA

Open Air Stage, Central Canterlot Park

Octavia sighed and let herself sink on the second stool. “Just give me a moment; I think my legs are trying to file a formal complaint.” She looked up at the white unicorn. “What about you? Your music is a lot more physical work than mine, if I’m not mistaken.”

Vinyl waved her concern off with a hoof. “Bah. I’m used to it. But I’m not used to gigs like this. You were radical out there!”

“I’m glad you liked my performance.”

Vinyl jumped up from her stool again. “Liked it? Liked it? It was amazing! Years from now ponies will look back to this day and say: ‘I was there, and it was legen–

…wait for it…

–dary! Legendary!’”

Octavia raised an eyebrow, deadpanning, “That’s what ponies will say?”

“I’m sure somepony will be awesome enough to say just that,” Vinyl muttered. “But that’s not important! Important is, I told you this was a great idea! Didn’t I tell you? I told you!” She brought her face right in front of Octavia’s, grabbing the cellist’s head with both hooves. “Say eeeeet…”

“It washn’t sho…” Octavia pulled her face out of Vinyl’s grasp. “It wasn’t received too badly, I suppose.”

Vinyl’s expression and voice turned dead serious. “Listen Tavi. Just because nopony has ever died from euphemisms, that’s still no reason to tempt fate.” She managed to keep her face up for a good three seconds before she broke into laughter.

Octavia joined in laughing, though in her naturally reserved style. After a few moments both mares had calmed down enough that she could speak again. “Ah… As much as I enjoy our conversations, if I sit here any longer I won’t be able to move my legs anymore.” She stood up and walked towards the door, stopping and turning around once she reached it. "I will see you this evening, then. We’re still doing our poker night, right?”

Vinyl rubbed her eye with her fetlock, still chuckling. “Just like every other Tuesday, that’s right. I won’t let sleep-deprivation get in the way of gambling and profit.”

“Great. You remember Frederic and Beauty Brass, from one of my ensembles, do you? They told me they’d like to join this week.”

Vinyl raised an eyebrow, grinning happily. “I’d never say no to some extra bits, you know that. Do they know what they’re in for?”

Octavia grinned back. “Not a clue. I think they actually still believe they’ll have a chance.”

“Ah… To be that young and naive…” Vinyl laughed. “Tell them they’re free to join. But don’t let them get their hopes up too high. We don’t want to crush their little souls.”

“I’ll make sure to tell them…” Octavia raised a hoof. “Vinyl “Overly-Big-Shades” Scratch.”

“I’ll see you guys tonight, then…” Vinyl brought her own hoof up to give her friend a hoofbump. “Octavia “Pokerface” Philharmonica. They won’t know what hit them.”

Author's Note

A good friend dared me to find a (good) VinylTavia story he hadn't read yet.
So, naturally, I cheated. :moustache: