I laid supine on my bed with some sheet music and my lyre levitating above me. I picked out random chords and measures to play; I was bored and needed something to do. It was a fairly warm afternoon in Ponyville, and an open window ejaculated a soft breeze into the room, filling it with the scents of outside that ranged from other ponies’ sweat from the fragrance of the chrysanthemums. I thought about the last book I read. It was a romance, I hated the ending though. Why would Janet fall in love with an asshole like Robert? Janet was a kind pony and deserved better, maybe the ending was meant to piss off the audience; the author had a history of that.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I sat down the lyre and the sheet music on the bedside table and levitated my phone out of my mane. With my magic she clicked the ‘answer’ button.
“Yellow?” I joked. “Who’s this?”
“Octavia,” The mare said, I’d been to a concert in which she had performed along with other musicians, but I’d never got to talk to her. “Is this Lyra Heartstrings?” Octavia said.
“Yeah, this is she.”
“I need you for a song I’ve written. It requires a cello, lyre, piano, some percussion and a mild electronic accompaniment.” Octavia said. “Can you come down to the Ponyville recording studio please? I tried contacting you through the mail, but apparently that didn’t work, hehe.” Oh, yeah. I never check my mail. I glanced out my window. Of course, it was overflowing with mail.
“Yeah sure,” I turned my attention back to the ceiling. “When?”
“In…” I could practically hear her checking her watch. “About an hour.” The walk from my cabin to Ponyville was about forty-five minutes. I decided to get started on the walk there. I got up.
“Okay.” I said. I opened the door and levitated my lyre into a saddlebag that I then placed on my back. “On my way.” I stepped out the door.
The grass was crisp and wet beneath my hooves. The dead garden that Carrotop had planted with me offered it’s faint scents and I took them within my nostrils, along with cedar, fir, apple and ozone and they all joined in on what could only be called a redolent orgy. The cold bit into my fur and I smiled. I’ve always enjoyed the cold. I picked up my gait to a trot. My stomach growled in its state of emptiness. I really should fill it more. I shall stop at Sugarcube Corner on the way into town
I spotted the confectionary. I padded up to it and opened the door with my magic. The inside reeked of delicacies and cakes. Scattered randomly across the scene were ponies. I knew a most, but others were unknown to me. There was Pinkie Pie, serving to ponies. Derpy, who was diving into a muffin. Bon-Bon, who was gossiping with a pony with carrots on her flank over cupcakes. And Twilight, who was talking with a green and aged mare over pie. I walked up to the counter, my tummy rumbling meanwhile.
“Hello, Lyra!! What can I get for you? We have~” I cut the mare off.
“I’ll have a red velvet cupcake, please.”
“Just have a seat at one of the tables and Pinkie’ll serve you eventually.” I levitated two bits out of my saddlebags and placed them on the counter before turning my attention to the tables. Ah, which one to sit at? I definitely didn’t want to sit alone, and I couldn’t interrupt the other ponies’ conversation, so I decided to ask Derpy if I could sit with her.
“Sure!” The grey-blue mare exclaimed happily. She patted the seat next to her. “Sit, please!” I sat
“So, how’s mailmare stuff?” I poked at the beginning conversation.
“Great!” I looked beside her; her mailbag was sitting next to her stool. “I’m on break right now, and I always come here during break. And since I’m a frequent customer, they’ve given me a one-bit discount off muffins.” She smiled a great and contagious smile. It was hard not to smile back. Derpy paused for a moment, and then smiled again. “Your turn to contribute to the conversation.” She said.
I thought for a bit, then answered. “Well. I just got invited to play a song with Octavia Melody~”
“Octavia!? Not too long ago I delivered a parcel to her.” Derpy interrupted me. “She opened it in front of me, and it was a bow. And she treated it **really** carefully. Like, it was her baby. And it was really pretty, too.”
And then Pinkie arrived
“Hellllllooooo, Derpy! Hellllllooooo, Lyra!” The mare announced happily. Pinkie Pie balanced, rather queerly, two muffins and a red velvet cupcake on one hoof, then setting them down on the table. I looked around the room for a clock, with the studio back in my attention. I spotted one; it read: 2:52. Oh, Horsefeathers. The thingamajig was in about eight minutes and that’s how long it took to get to the recording studio. I levitated the cupcake off of the table and started on my way out.
“Sorry, but I oughta’ be off. Thanks Pinkie!” I called back once I was out the door. I began galloping.
I arrived at Ponyville Recording Studios. The mare behind the counter was cream colored with a red mop-like mane with beads in it; it was put into a bun
The air came into and left my lungs in monotonous and rather heavy gasps. I spoke. “HUUUUUUH! Oc- Huuh, tai-, via- “ She understood.
“Down the hall to your left; last room to the right.” She said. “You here for that song? Mi Amore?” Oh, is that the song we were working on? Mi Amore, Mi Amore. I repeated the name over and over in my head. It sounded foreign, maybe from Estaloni? I knew a bit. ‘Mi’ meant ‘my’, and ‘Amore’ meant love. ‘My Love’? Wait that’s part of Cadence’s name. Is the song about Cadence? No, wai~. My thoughts were interrupted.
“You okay?” The mare asked.
“Yeah. Have a nice day!” I started down the hall.
“You too,” The mare called.
I spotted the door and opened it. Immediately the ponies inside the room announced me.
“Fina-fucking-ly!” The one I knew as Vinyl practically screamed. “Where the Tartaraus have you been! We got here like fifteen minutes ago. Well, I got here like fifteen minutes ago, dunno bout’ treble, clef and stick butts,” Vinyl Scratch pointed her hoof at Octavia, a sawdust colored stallion who looked like he was in his 50s and a light brown mare who looked just out of youth.
“Vinyl, for the first time, you were on time.” Octavia said; she was wielding a bow, a quite ornate one at that. “And for you, where have you been? I called you an hour ago.”
“Yeah, you said to be here in about an hour.”
“’About’ an hour. Unwritten rule suggests, of a time, about means fifteen minutes early or late.” She put emphasis on 'about'. There was an argument brewing, but I didn’t want fire the shots. Vinyl, as rumor has it, is dating Octavia, and she looked like she could kick somepony’s flank if she wanted to. For now, I’ll just surrender.
“Sorry, Octavia. Didn’t know that, hehe…” She looked satisfied. “Okay, lets get this stuff started. What tuning will I be playing in?
“Standard.” The grey mare said. I levitated the lyre out of my saddlebag and began tuning it. “Where is the sheet music?” She produced about seven sheets and passed them into my magical grasp. I studied them for a bit until I understood how it was set up. The first part of it was riddled with odd chords, and then it faded into normalcy for a bit, and then it was single notes for the rest of the, movement? I looked up at the top of the pages. ‘Movement 1: Encounter’ it read. The movement looked like it was about fifteen minutes long. I wonder how long it was…
“You and I will come in a bit after Mallet and Fortissimo start. I’ll signal you with a nod.”
“Got it.” I levitated a nearby empty music stand towards and placed the music on it. “Shall we?” They all nodded. The light brown mare began.
“Two… three… four”
The one I believed was Mallet began on the bass drum, replicating thunder. It reverberated within my flesh and ears. Quiet, then loud, and then quiet in repetitive entropy. The one I believed was Fortissimo begun too, on the far left side of the keyboard, in a low eight-note rotation. It screamed psychopathy and darkness. It ceased the ‘quiet and then loud’ thing and just started getting louder and louder. It came to be unbearable: the constant pounding in my ears accompanied with an eldritch piano thingamajig. And then, all of a sudden, it stopped. It was replaced by Octavia’s cello.
The cellist faded in with a low bass hum ejaculated from the speakers. Octavia repeated a few measures over and over, and the ‘wubs’ complemented it perfectly. I opened my eyes and saw Octavia swaying with the music. It was simple, but heavenly. The ‘wubs’ went in a (sort-of) two-note rotation. The electronic beat was faint and riddled with hi-hat notes. Octavia nodded to me; I looked at my sheet music and began.
Now the odd chords took their toll on the music. It sounded… entropic. That was the only way I could describe it. I’d skip a few notes and then make up for it a few rests later. I looked at the sheet music; the more normal part was coming up. Ah, here we are. The chords became normal (yet the odd pattern was still in affect) and the cello added a few notes and sped up others. The piano joined in now in a calm, hypnotic sixteen note rotation. It (how should I put this in a way that doesn’t make me sound insane) tasted like dust, felt like sunlight and smelt like ozone. It was cheerier than the last part.
The part came up where my contribution went to normal, and I almost cried. Everypony contributed now, Mallet levitated both a bass drum mallet and two drumsticks in her magical grasp. With she drumsticks she lightly tapped on a snare drum that I hadn’t noticed before, and with the bass drum mallet she kept a constant rhythmic beat. Octavia swayed with the noise of the cello. Fortissimo was gazing at the keyboard and playing. Even Vinyl was fiddling with the computer and nodding her head to the constant wubs. It was all beautiful; everything was beautiful. Yet I couldn’t keep my eyes off the grey mare. She was stunning, even though she was crying. Wait a minute…crying? Why was…was she sad? Maybe these were tears of joy. I looked at her maw, and she was smiling slightly. Did she enjoy this song as much as I did? Maybe…
Still she was beautiful, and…gorgeous. But then Octavia opened her mouth. She began singing. I had never heard of a composition with lyrics besides operas. Maybe I should’ve payed more attention during college. When she sang, it sounded like her heart was being torn in two. Hurt. I shed a tear unexpectedly. Her mouth let the lyrics flow out, but not before they went through her filter, installing her gorgeous cadences and trills. I shed another tear.
