DJ Octavia

by Hopeful_Ink_Hoof

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Octavia, Comedy
Length: 2982

Octavia tries to fill in as DJ for a sick Vinyl

When Vinyl Scratch ends up getting sick before a gig, Octavia tries to fill in for her. Octavia knows how to work the equipment. How hard could it be?

Published 2014-06-01 22:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-02 19:16:29 UTC

Too Sick to J the Ds

Octavia stopped practicing her cello and held still, listening. Something was wrong. It was difficult to figure out what exactly, but she was certain of it.

A glance at the clock made her realize what the problem was: it was too quiet. Vinyl should have been up by now and having some of her music on while preparing for the day. Not actually loud enough to interrupt Octavia's practice, mind, but it was enough that she could feel the rhythm from the baseline just along the edge of her consciousness.

Octavia set the cello and bow aside and stretched as she dropped back to all fours. She could practice some more once she was certain what was going on.

The first stop was the kitchen, by way of the dining room. The table was empty and chairs were still properly pushed in. No Vinyl there. The kitchen sink was empty, no bowl, no coffee mug. In the dish drain was her plate and teacup from breakfast. The coffee machine was off and the carafe was cold and empty. So Vinyl had not even gotten up, started the machine, and gone off to do something else (or back to bed until it was ready).

Octavia made her way toward the bathroom and bedroom. Her ears were perked up as she listened intently. As she reached the door, she paused and listened. Still no sound of running water. Granted, it had been unlikely, but she still had to check.

"Vinyl?" Octavia called out as she stepped into the bedroom. There was a grumble from the bed, a lump hidden beneath the blankets shifting.

"Vinyl, why are you still in bed?" Taking a hold of the sheets in her teeth, the mare gave it a firm yank to reveal the unicorn underneath.

Vinyl Scratch did not look well. Her ears drooped and eyes were rimmed with red. Her coloring also seemed off, looking slightly pink.

"Hey Tavi," Vinyl croaked, trying to smile. "What's up?"

Octavia reached out and pushed Vinyl's mane out of the way. The gray earth pony then put her hoof against the unicorn's forehead, followed by stroking her cheek. Octavia let out a sigh, shaking her head.

"Your temperature it seems," she replied. "Vinyl, you have a fever."

"Ah, it's probably nothing." She moved to climb out of bed. "I'll be-"

The rest of the statement was lost as Vinyl fell out of the bed and hit the carpet face first.

"Are you alright?" Octavia asked.

"Yeah," Vinyl replied. "Just... got a little dizzy for a moment. No biggie."

"Vinyl Record Scratch," Octavia stated, "this is very much a... 'biggie.' You are sick. Now, you have two choices. You can either climb back into bed, or you can go take a long hot soak in the tub."

"But Octavia," Vinyl whined, "I can't be sick. I have a gig tonight."

Octavia looked down at Vinyl who was getting into a sitting position. It must have been serious if the unicorn was using Octavia's full first name instead of "Tavi." A part of her was tempted to suggest that maybe they could ask the sickness to reschedule for when Vinyl had no gig lined up, but it really did not seem like an appropriate response.

Instead she sighed, and rubbed her forehead.

"Vinyl..." she took a deep breath and softened her tone. "Sweetie."

Vinyl's eyes went wide. Octavia almost never called her any sort of pet names. The unicorn watched curiously as she was given a gentle hug.

"I understand how important your performances are to you." Octavia gave a gentle kiss on the forehead. "But it does not change the fact that you are sick. Even if you were able to get up and walk, there is no telling how ill you might become. What's more, you are most likely contagious, which means that you would be risking infecting all your fans as well. That seems rather counterproductive."

"I guess," Vinyl conceded, laying her head on Octavia's shoulder. "But they're still expecting me. We need to let them know I can't make it so they can find somepony to fill in."

"Alright." Octavia broke the hug. "You go soak in the tub while I make you some tea and toast."

Vinyl scrunched her face -- she did not like tea and plain toast was boring -- but said nothing.

"Once you're settled to rest and recuperate," Octavia continued, "I will go to the club and notify the manager that you will be unable to perform. If worse comes to worst, I shall fill in for you."

"What?" Vinyl cried out, eyes going wide. "But Tavi, you don't know anything about DJing."

"Nonsense," Octavia replied with a wave of her hoof. "I have seen you working with your equipment quite a number of times. I'm certain that I can figure it out sufficiently to entertain a club for one night. Really, what's the worst that could happen?"

"You did not..." Vinyl started before pausing, feeling a little dizzy.

"Octavia," she tried again, "you..."

Her body suddenly felt cold, causing her to shiver.

"Oh forget it," she groaned. "I'm just going to go soak in the tub. Remind me to say 'I told you so' when you get home." With that, Vinyl made her way to the bathroom.

Octavia watched her friend a moment, eyebrow raised. What had Vinyl been trying to say earlier? And what could possibly happen that would deserve an "I told you so?"

Just Vinyl being herself, I suppose. With a shrug, Octavia started to head for the kitchen to make the tea and toast.

In The Club

This is not good. This is most assuredly not good. In point, it is bad. Incredibly bad. I do not see a way that this shall end well, and I cannot believe that I put myself into this foolish situation to begin with.

In the green room of The Neon Flank stood Octavia. Although "stood" was relatively inaccurate. She had spent most of the time pacing around the room. Her normally well-kept mane had become frazzled from fiddling with it, strands sticking out and unkempt angles. On the counter in front of the mirror laid her bow tie and collar. It really did not seem like appropriate disc-jockey attire. Then again, Octavia was not what could be considered an appropriate DJ.

"If worse comes to worst, I shall fill in for you," I said. I did not actually think that worse would actually come to worst. I most assuredly never expected that the manager would actually be willing to accept the offer and allow me to play in place of an experienced DJ.

She let out a groan and rubbed at her head again.

"I've seen you working with your equipment quite a number of times," I said. "I'm certain that I can figure it out sufficiently to entertain a club for one night" I said. I have never actually worked with her equipment. Why did I even say that?!

Octavia closed her eyes and straightened up.

Okay, Octavia. Calm down and collect yourself.

She took several deep breaths and slowly let them out. With each exhalation, she could feel herself regaining self-control, becoming calmer, and collecting her thoughts.

Good now think. What is the worst possible case scenario? You cause Vinyl's equipment to somehow explode, destroying a portion of the club and injuring -- if not killing -- numerous ponies including yourself. So if we make it through this alive, and nothing explodes that is not supposed to, then we can consider this evening... not a complete failure. So I now have a minimum benchmark.

There was a knock at the door, breaking her concentration. Before she could respond, the door was opened.

"Miss Octavia?" the new arrival asked. "Here's the lost and found box."

"Thank you," Octavia said as she took the box. "I'll be sure to return anything from it that I borrow." The pony gave a nod and shut the door leaving the gray mare alone once more.

Octavia began to look through the lost and found, trying to find some items that she could use for her impromptu disc-jockey identity. After all, a prim and proper cellist hardly seemed like the type that would be of interest to a group of club-going ponies with an affinity for electronic style music. As such, she was going to try and borrow some items and see if she could get a look she liked that seemed more appropriate for the scene.

There were some wallets, but they would not really be of much use. It also left her wondering why the owners never came back for them. She found some ...items that stallions would more than likely regret losing if they were able to take any mares home. Hopefully, those stallions had some extras just in case. Still not useful for what she needed. Then again, since she was with Vinyl, she had no need for them at all.

Octavia found some hats, glasses, and even a few neck ties. This last one made her reconsider her bow tie. Perhaps it was not as out of place as she originally thought.

She suddenly had an idea. It was not quite appropriate for the club scene, but it was too interesting for her to pass up. Grabbing her collar and bow tie, she quickly put them back into place. From the lost and found box, she grabbed a black fedora and a pair of sunglasses, putting them on. She checked her appearance out in the mirror.

Oh, Celestia, she thought. I look like I belong in The Mafia or something. With a sigh, she tossed the hat and glasses back into the box.

I guess I shall simply go out there as myself.

Octavia took one last moment to collect herself, and pray to any being that would listen that she would not utterly humiliate herself tonight. With that done, she left the green room and made her way toward the DJ booth. Ponies were already make their way in and hanging out around the tables.

"Mare and stallions," the manager called out from the stage, "are you ready to get this club slammin'?" There was a roar and the sound of hooves stamping on the ground. "Now I have some bad news: DJ Pon-3 is unable to perform for you tonight." This was immediately followed by a series of boos. "But don't worry, we're not going to let you down. So, please welcome our guest DJ for tonight."

The booing had put Octavia on edge, suddenly uncertain that they would approve of her regardless of how well she was able to perform since she was not Vinyl. Fortunately there was just as much cheering for her when she had been introduced.

Smiling, she made her way into the booth and up to the microphone.

"What is..." she stopped as the microphone did not seem to pick up her voice. A nervous chuckle escaped her as she realized that it was not on. After searching to find the switch, she turned it on.

The ear piercing screech of electronic feedback filled the air of the club. Octavia gritted her teeth as the noise clawed through her nerves. She finally managed to hit the switch again, cutting off the noise. The metallic ringing slowly faded from her ears, letting her hear the grumbles of some of the ponies. She grinned as she turned down the volume before switching the microphone back on.

"That..." she thought a moment. "That was a demonstration from my upcoming new experimental album... Electronic Pain." She gave a chuckle, thinking herself clever. Unfortunately, she heard no other laughter. Octavia wiped at her forehead, feeling a bit of sweat on it.

"Anyway, what is up, my ponies? I am your entertainment for the night. You can call me... uhm..."

Name. She needed a name. She probably should have thought of that before coming out.

"DJ..." She looked down at her coat. "Grey..." It suddenly came to her "Gr-8 Note. Yes, that's it. I am DJ Gr-8 Note." She grinned, feeling quite proud of herself.

"So, are you ready to kick off this part a?"

There was no response.

"Well..." she looked down at the equipment in front of her. "Let us get to it then." She hit the button that she was pretty sure started the machine playing. The record players started to spin.

No music came from the speakers.

Because Octavia had not put on any records.

Were there any records? Octavia had not even thought about that. She thought that all the music was stored electronically. Now she either had to find the records, or figure out how to access the electronic storage. Bending down, she looked under the table that held the turntables. It was a relief when she discovered a box. Grabbing the first one, she pulled it out. Removing the record from the sleeve, she set it down and put the arm down to start the music.

A massive boom exploded from the speakers, knocking Octavia off her hooves. There was a cheer from the crowd as a heavy bass line began to pulse and throb with the start of the music. The ponies started to fill the dance floor, finally able to have some fun.

Octavia let out a groan of pain and annoyance. Slowly, she managed to get back up to her hooves and get back into her position at the booth. The mare grabbed the headphones and put them on, then got the box and started looking to see what records there were.

I wonder if the club allows their performers to enjoy some of their stronger beverages while on duty.

Home Again

Vinyl Scratch was bored. Bored, bored, bored! BORED! BORED!

She had slept as much as she could, and she could not sleep anymore. She was wide awake. Her fever had broken as far as she could tell, and she could get up without getting dizzy. Unfortunately, she really had nothing to do. Working on her equipment was a bad idea, and she could not focus enough to work on her latest songs or such. Vinyl had tried reading, but she had gone through all of her science-fiction novels, and could never get into Octavia's romance novels (they were just so silly).

As a result, Vinyl found herself sprawled out on the couch, listening to some of Octavia's records. It had been quite a surprise -- and a thrilling one at that -- when she discovered that one of the songs had cannons in it. Actual, honest to Celestia cannons! It was now her absolute favorite classical music song ever. It also gave her a couple of ideas that she would totally have to try with her own music. Although where would she get a cannon? Then again, she would have to find a way to get permission to fire. Probably have to promise not to use any actual ammunition in it (not that she would, although it was kind of tempting).

Still, even with the kickin' tunes, she was having a hard time just sitting around and doing nothing. It was strange since she had easily done such things before. Now she was kind of supposed to, and it was not easy. She wanted to do something, anything other than lie around and rest in order to get better.

The sound of the door opening got Vinyl's attention. Considering the time, it could only possibly mean one thing. Vinyl Scratch sat up, grinning. The grin turned into a wince at the sight.

Octavia slammed the door as she came in. Her ears drooped and teeth bared. The mare's eyes were narrowed into slits, but a tinge of red could be seen. One half of Octavia's normally well-kept mane was so frazzled and mussed, it nearly looked like Vinyl's when performing. The other half was plastered against the side of her head and neck, like something sticky and wet had been dumped onto it. Strangest of all was the bow tie. It was still around her neck, but completely untied. Vinyl had never -- never -- seen Octavia wearing the tie untied around her neck like that.

"So, how did it go?" Vinyl asked, trying to sound as calm and neutral as she possibly could.

"I'm sorry," Octavia growled. "I can't quite hear you. You see between ear-splitting feedback, ear bursting music, and somehow getting soda in them when some unhappy ponies threw their drinks at me, I cannot hear very well at the moment."

"They threw their drinks at you?"

"Indeed. It seems that they were not satisfied with simply telling me how badly I..." she groaned and rolled her eyes, "'suck royal flank' is the term I believed they used."

"Ah, Tavi," Vinyl said, "I'm sorry."

"Yes, well there is good news. There was no explosion and your equipment is still in one piece.... although I will admit to times when it was tempting."

"So I guess I don't have to worry about you taking my job?"

"Oh don't worry," Octavia said. "You do not have to worry about seeing DJ Gr-8 Note ever again. Now, if you will excuse me, I reek of soda -- among other... liquids -- smoke, artificial fog, and I cannot even begin to count how many different perfumes and colognes of questionable value. So I am going to take a nice, long, hot shower and scrub every inch of my coat until I am nearly bald."

"Alright," Vinyl called out. "Enjoy your shower." She moved to lie back down and stopped. "Oh! And Tavi?"

Octavia stopped and turned to look at Vinyl, raising an eyebrow. Vinyl shifted and grinned as wide as she could, eyes glowing with humor.

"I told you so."