Half Past Octavia

She screamed loudly as they held her in place, one man on either side of her as pain after pulse of choking pain was barreled into me. I coughed blood onto the unforgiving pavement as the gentle tussle of the wind seemed to mock my petty state, basically groveling on the ground. The one man stood over me, sending his foot into my gut repeatedly, his face bent into a wicked smile as the dimness of the moon light hung over him making him seem twice as malevolent. Octavia’s elegant tuxedo being messily undone by the men as they sadistically glanced to me and then back to her. She tried to resist but to no avail as one of the man sent a hand to her face and the loud echo of the impact shot through the darkness of the alley.

‘Was I going to die here?’ I asked myself as my eyes began to glaze over. ‘Are these men going to kill me…and…take her?’

The glow of the moon began to become blurry as I began to slip into unconsciousness, then a flicker of movement caught my eye. Probably a cat is what I figured at first as my body went numb, basically just twitching from the impact of the man’s foot. Octavia’s screams becoming more and more distant. But as time progressed, it wasn’t just a cat. A figure emerged from the shadows, it balanced on one foot and send the other into the man above me and sent him flying off me. The other two men let go of Octavia and turned to the mystery shrouded individual, running at it shouting.

Within minutes, they were defeated in the same fashion. Octavia was on the floor, clutching her tux where her heart would be and panting heavily while I simply bled. The figure walked toward Octavia, still in the shadows and apparently said something since Octavia’s lips began to move in worry as she pointed over to me. I couldn’t make out what they were saying; all I could hear was a low ringing. Seconds later the figure walked up to me, revealing their face. I didn’t recognize it but their hair…it was unmistakable…

***

*2 Hours Earlier*

Starbucks had been better than I actually thought it would have been. It was enjoyable and had a very friendly working environment. Of course there was the occasional grump who shouted if their order was wrong but other than that all was well. My shift was about coming to a close and I was left to lock the place up.

“First day was a success, I’d say.” I whispered to myself cheerfully as I shoved the key in the door and locked it up, walking to my car while swinging the key on my finger.

I pulled up home, quickly stripped down and changed into something fancy. I rented a nice suit from a store in downtown. Once I had it all on I had to say I looked rather spiffy. I stared at myself in the mirror, nodding in approval as I looked over my black suit with my light blue dress shirt under and a nice bow tie adorning my neck. My slacks around my waist and held in place with a fancy looking belt that I borrowed from Adrian same as my black dress shoes. Octavia’s ensemble recital was today, Miss O’Neal was going to be directing them as they played at a theatre where music is often show cased. Just as I finished I heard the studio door creak open and a figure walk out into the living room from the corner of my eye.

I didn’t realize she was home and figured I should greet her since today was her big day. I strode out with a grin on my face but as I stood in the door way my smile disappeared. As I looked on at the figure standing there, my jaw dropped. Octavia stood there in an elegant dress though she a little less than elated as she irritably fixed and adjusted it. The silky mocha dress began at her shoulders and stopped at her ankles, accompanied with her magenta eyes and dark hair it was near indescribable.

“I…I don’t like it.” She huffed, her face in a bit of a pout.

I shook my head to snap back into reality.

“What? You look amazing!” I encouraged her with a beam.

“I never liked dresses, I would much prefer adornment such as yours.” The cellist retorted with the makings of a frown as she walked towards me her frown shifting to a faint smile and a pleading look in her eyes, almost seeming to make her pupils enlarge and sparkle as she adjusted my tie for me. “Please?”

That was honestly too cute, my heart was on the verge of explosion as that was waaaay too much for me to handle. All I could do was give a heavy sigh, roll my eyes and submit. We headed to Miss O’Neal’s house to get what we came for but also to meet up with them seeing as they were going to ride with us to the theatre. When we walked up to their apartment and knocked on the door, it creaked open to reveal two equally stunning women. Miss O’Neal with her blonde hair in a neat bun as she wore a thigh-length black dress, her squared glasses giving her an almost librarian look about her and Vinyl just behind her with an irritated expression as she tugged at her deep red outfit.

“I hate this dress, Martha…” Vinyl whined as she continued to tug at it.

Miss O’Neal only glanced back, answering flatly with a false smile to hide her impatience. “Hush, Miss Scratch or you go naked.”

“Umm, I hate to be of trouble but would you guys happen to have a tuxedo around? Octi doesn’t seem to like dresses.” I inquired, gesturing towards Octavia who waved at them.

“I really doubt it, dear. What wrong with what you have on? You look gorgeous!”

“Yeah, lookin’ sharp there, Octi.” Vinyl commentated with a series of nods.

Octavia only furrowed her brow.

“I’ve never been one for dresses, Miss O’Neal. I’ve rather preferred suits even though they are colt oriented.” She explained, emphasizing on her distain for dresses.

“Well if it means that much to you I suppose I can have a look.” Miss O’Neal sighed, turning to Vinyl quickly. “Go check for me, if you’d be so kind.”

She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to protest but then paused as Miss O’Neal smiled at her eerily, her expression of sweetness seeming to mask something more sinister. The DJ basically tucked her tail between her legs and scurried off to check. Moments later she returned with a suit wrapped in plastic.

“I dunno if it’ll fit though.” She said, looking at it in an unsure fashion.

Octavia walked into the living room, seemingly satisfied as I followed behind her to sit on the couch. Vinyl sat down on the one across from me sipping a juice box she had pulled from who knows where and Miss O’Neal had walked to the kitchen. As the cellist unwrapped the tuxedo, she gave several approving nods and then slipped off her dress, the mocha fabric falling to her ankles. Both Vinyl and I were taken aback. As I gawked, Vinyl seemed to inhale her straw in the midst of a gasp while she stared and choked in silence. Octavia stood there in bra and panties, her treble clef cutie mark fully visible on both sides as her hair lightly touched her bare back. She clearly didn’t notice our burning stares or didn’t care as she bent over to pick up the discarded outfit, revealing a hell of a lot more than I expected to see for a while.

Miss O’Neal walked out of the kitchen, her eyes widening upon what she was witnessing and letting out a loud nervous laughter before calling her over.

“Aha…Octavia, dear, Come here.” Her tone morphing into an embarrassed hiss, “Now!”

Octavia only cocked an eyebrow curiously before gathering her things to change in the kitchen and leaving a DJ gasping for air and me to have to give her the Heimlich.

***

We had finally pulled up to the theatre, space was limited but since we had performers we managed a reserved slot. We climbed out of the car and slowly filed toward the entrance while Octavia went on about how excited she was.

“Oh, I’m so elated I can’t stand it! I wonder how many ponies are inside! What do you think they’ll be like?” she questioned endlessly as she fixed her tuxedo up.

I shook my head, taking in a small wisp of air before sighing, having to remind her yet again.

“People, Octavia. Not ponies.”

“R-right. People, not ponies…” she muttered as if committing it to memory.

Though as we neared the entrance, a group of men poured out from the theatre clearly intoxicated as they were escorted out by the staff. Their nice suits messed and their presumably once neat hair now scruffy and unkempt. As they walked by, stumbling in their intoxicated stupor, the door closed, allowing the staff and any prying eyes to be shut away from the scene. They approached us, their eyes showing a bit of interest, though not directed at me.

“Why hello, lil’ missh.” One of the men, with a moderate country though upbeat and professional accent, spoke in a slurred manner towards Octavia.

The other two men displayed similar lustful interest, though their eyes scoured about the other two women beside me. Though the two of which who were of equine origins looked fucking clueless, though I couldn’t have expected much seeing as they came from a place where I imagine rape is rare, if not unheard of. While I don’t too much condone playing the hero, shit was about to go down so it was time to nut up or shut up.

I took in a small wisp of air before puffing out my chest slightly and stepping forward.

“Hey, back off! We don’t want any trouble.” I hissed towards the men, blocking their way to the three.

Miss O’Neal’s expression seemed rather troubled as she gathered Octavia and Vinyl behind her. Suddenly some movement caught all of our eyes as the familiar red and blue lights flashed in the distance only to grow closer and halt a few feet away. A stocky man with a black uniform climbed out half way from the white police cruiser.

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” he questioned almost daringly at the intoxicated trio, clearly more than aware of their intentions.

This seemed more than enough to discourage the group as they backed off hesitantly.

“Shertainly not officer…” one of the men called out submissively before shooting a glare my way and stalking off in the opposite direction.

The officer gave a smug grunt in reply as he watched them go before turning his attention to us.

“Be a little more careful next time.” He stated bluntly before climbing back in his car and cruising off. We didn’t even get enough time to thank him properly other than our relieved glances towards him.

Soon enough we walked in, our little encounter seeming to have shaved the only few minutes we had for socialization before the show leading to Octavia and Miss O’Neal having to take their places.

Scratch and I slowly made our way up the stands as the cellist and the conductor disappeared into the crowds to prepare with the rest of the mentioned ensemble. As we finally found our seats the mumbling of the crowds went on for several long minutes before the theatre went dark as the stage lit up. The lovely velvet curtains slowly slid aside to reveal the performers. Octavia, gingerly hugging to her cello was the only person I recognized apart from Miss O’Neal who stood at a podium facing the musicians and lifting her conductor’s wand in the air gracefully before waving it about. There were several other people playing different instruments all dressed wonderfully. In a sense, I suppose I was eager to meet them at some point.

Soon the melody began to reverberate through the stands, starting off strong with the sound of an almost metronomic beat before Octavia lifted her bow, swiping across the chords firmly, her eyes closed in deep concentration as she picked up her pace a bit. The sounds of the strong ballad settling into the crowd of spectators like that of hot coal settling in a furnace. It gave an almost spine-tingling atmosphere as the viewers fell silent, some with their mouth agape in awe from the unexpected theme: a battle.
The symphony went on as Miss O’Neal waved her wand about majestically towards the performers as they looked up periodically from their sheet music for the tempo and the music poured on, filling the ears of the viewers like bittersweet honey, the jagged beats of the music making its way throughout the auditorium and back again in a seemingly infinite euphoric loop threatening to turn the tides of the mind itself. Astounding really, that after all the music I have listened to by her, despite me hearing her play her piece for the millionth time, I could never get tired of it. It was almost as if each time Octavia put a new spin on the way she played her music, it was almost like listening to a whole new song played by the same magnificent woman.

Finally the piece came to an end with a soft yet tactical beat before the theatre was flooded with roaring and near ear shattering applause. The ensemble stood taking their bows as they soaked the attention with an air of content. I stood, nudging Vinyl to do the same as we joined the crowd clapping madly and occasionally I lifted my fingers to my mouth to give a loud whistle of approval. The stage lit up again as all the viewers rose from their seats, walking back to the magnificent lobby for snacks and socialization.

“I’m gonna go find Octi,” Vinyl stated, her expression riddled with disdain as she turned, walking away before calling over her shoulder. “Everypony is too stuck up for me…”

It was just then that I saw a brief flash of soot grey hover out of sight towards the door way from the corner of my eye, I had turned to call out to the DJ but she had already been engulfed by the crowd. Though due to the sudden departure, my curiosity sparked up more than anything and I figured I’d follow. As the crowds congregated, I managed my way through with by this point, overly used “Excuse me’s” and “Pardon me’s”. Once outside I saw her striding towards the car with a misplaced expression, her pace increasing with the coming seconds as I noticed her glance around before I called out to her.

“Tavi, hey, what’re you doing out here?” I commented as I broke into a jog to minimize the distance between us, giving a small wave.

She turned, placing a hand on her hip as she tilted her head and answering in a bored tone. “Oh, Martha instructed me to fetch something for her in the car that she left behind, that’s all.”

I furrowed my brow and dug into my pocket, jingling my keys in front of me. “You can’t get in without these anyways.”

Just then, three figures seemed to slither from the shadows as they wrapped around the car, approaching us in finely dressed attire, though sloppily maintained. As they made a stagger toward us, the jolt of recognition struck me and as I glanced aside to the young Cellist, I could tell she realized it too though it was too late as one of the men drew and object from his pocket, it letting out a click as the swift steel glint of a blade shot into place above the hilt. The same men from before when the officer had saved us, but this time, not only were we fewer in number but there was no officer to help us this time. The man didn’t even utter a word, only glaring at us and nodding his head towards the alley nearby, signaling for us to move to it. With a sigh and a bow of my head I grabbed her by the arm, ushering her along to comply, as she only looked up at me with a puzzled expression. It was a shame her innocence made her so naïve.

As I entered the sinister darkness of the alley, I turned, my expression growing grim. “Look, we don’t want any trouble, man…” I managed as the unarmed man advanced, cocking back his arm and jetting a powerful blow towards to face.

For a moment, all went dark as I stumbled backwards, gripping my face as the drops of scarlet trickled to the floor and the woman beside me let out a horrified gasp, pressing her hands against her mouth. Once I regained my footing and shook off the initial shock, I lunged forward in retaliation only to be punched back yet again; this time falling to the ground completely from the force. The two men rushed over to Octavia, snatching her arms away from her mouth and holding them against the wall as they lustfully licked their lips. Though my situation was dire enough, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it as the rage and overall disgust boiled in my belly. I did my best to lift, using a nearby wall as support only to have another wallop of pain course through me as the man’s dress shoes met my rib cage.

All I could do was clutch my midsection, curling in agony as he drew his leg back even farther, almost to his back before accelerating it back towards the same location. Though this time, a sickening crack rang through the alley, though for the most part muffled by Octavia’s shrieks of confusion and fear.

“What are you doing?!” She cried, kicking her legs as the other two held her against the wall. “Leave him alone-”

She was abruptly cut off by the armed man placing the switchblade against her throat and covering her mouth with his hand roughly.

“Shut up, bitch.” He said flatly, not batting an eye.

I soon began to see stars as another kick was sent to my face as the taste of blood flooded my mouth. She screamed loudly as they held her in place, one man on either side of her as pain after pulse of choking pain was barreled into me. I coughed blood onto the unforgiving pavement as the gentle tussle of the wind seemed to mock my petty state, basically groveling on the ground. The one man stood over me, sending his foot into my gut repeatedly, his face bent into a wicked smile as the dimness of the moonlight hung over him making him seem twice as malevolent. Octavia’s elegant tuxedo being messily undone by the men as they sadistically glanced to me and then back to her. She tried to resist but to no avail as one of the man sent a hand to her face and the loud echo of the impact shot through the darkness of the alley.

‘Was I going to die here?’ I asked myself as my eyes began to glaze over. ‘Are these men going to kill me…and…take her?’
The glow of the moon began to become blurry as I began to slip into unconsciousness, then a flicker of movement caught my eye. Probably a cat is what I figured at first as my body went numb, basically just twitching from the impact of the man’s foot. Octavia’s screams becoming more and more distant. But as time progressed, it wasn’t just a cat. A figure emerged from the shadows, it balanced on one foot and send the other into the man above me and sent him flying off me. The other two men let go of Octavia and turned to the mystery shrouded individual, running at it shouting.

Within minutes, they were defeated in the same fashion. Octavia was on the floor, clutching her tux where her heart would be and panting heavily while I simply bled. The figure walked toward Octavia, still in the shadows and apparently said something since Octavia’s lips began to move in worry as she pointed over to me. I couldn’t make out what they were saying; all I could hear was a low ringing. Seconds later the figure walked up to me, revealing their face. I didn’t recognize it but their hair…it was unmistakable…

***

I heard the steady sound of beeps, though saw nothing. As I opened my eyes, the plain white of a ceiling came into view, lit up by the bright radiant morning beams though I only stared at it, listening to the rhythm of the beeping. My body ached, the pain considerably measureable to having been hit by a car and backed up on. After a while, I figured it time to inspect my surroundings, looking to my right and spotting the source of the beeping; a heart monitor. Though just beyond it was what really caught my attention, sleeping in a set of chairs was them. Octavia's sooty hair was frazzled and messy as she donned the same dress from the night of the concerto, beside her was the electric blue haired DJ dressed in a hooded jacket and a pair of jeans as she fiddled about with a small machine in her hands, her attention completely absorbed by it. Adrian was even there, completely out of it as his head rested against the wall, a line of saliva dripping out his mouth in slumber. Miss O’Neal stood by the window, looking outside with a forlorn expression before giving a sigh and turning to me, then her eyes widening.

“Oh my goodness, he’s awake!” she exclaimed, trotting towards me with a reassured look in her eyes.

Everyone in the room jumped up from the startle, though Adrian instead woke up in a coughing fit, presumably having choked on his own spit. I only had time to give a weak smirk before pain shot through me once again as Octavia spared no time throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my neck. For a moment, everyone’s eyes seemed to gloss over as they backed up in recognition, though Miss O’Neal was noticeably concerned that the cellist would harm me further. Immediately I felt warm droplets fall on my shoulder, only to realize…she was crying…for me!

“H-hey…” I called out to her, my voice hoarse and strained.

She released her grasp, looking at me in the eye despite her nose red from grief, eyes dazzled with hot tears and her lip quivering.
I let out a brief, cough like chuckle at the irony of my following question though wincing from the pain of effort.

“A-are yo-you okay?”

She smiled through her tears, stroking a lock of messed hair behind her ear before looking at me again, pushing her head forward and locking me in a kiss. Something inside me at that moment seemed to shift. Almost mend something that I didn’t even know was broken. Unlike the other ones, this felt…real. As she broke it, I gave a smile in return though the moment was cut short as I spotted a silhouette in the glass of the tinted hospital door window, followed by a strangely familiar tone.

“Ah, awake I see! Phenomenal!” the voice announced, the accent quite unmistakable, being from European origins as a neatly dressed man jiggled open the door knob, striding inside with a cheeky smile, his hair organized in chaotic neatness, if that would even suffice as a description.

This was going to be interesting…

To be continued…