A Real Battle of the Bands.
Between an Angered Cellist, and a DJ.
I looked out over my turntable, to the other end of the stage. There, I saw my roommate, one Octavia Philharmonica, holding her cello in one hoof, and tuning it with the other. I sighed as I put my glasses on, and tried to remember how I had gotten into this whole situation. This wasn't too hard, since it had only happened yesterday. Or, to be more precise, the night before yesterday.
I woke up, the sound of a cello forcing its way into my ears. I groggily got out of bed, after having slept-in due to spending most of last night at a party. Being a DJ has its downsides, one of them being late nights. I lazily trotted over to the kettle, made sure it was filled, and levitated it over a fire. I laughed at the irony, as I realized it was usually me waking my roommate up with my loud music and her drinking coffee.
i
With coffee made, I soon became aware of a weird noise assaulting my ears. I was still tired mind you, so I was surprised when I turned to my left and found myself snout-to-snout with my roommate Octavia. I quickly deduced that the strange noise I heard was her, berating me. This deduction came as no surprise to me as I had expected that something like this might happen. She was still talking, but my ears weren't understanding anything, so I held up a hoof.
One long sip of coffee later, I was finally ready to deal with Octavia. "So, what were you saying?" I asked, the picture of innocence.
Octavia face hoofed, saying, "So you weren't listening to ANYTHING I was saying?"
"To take a page out of Big Mac's book: Eenope."
Octavia sighed, before questioning me further, "So tell me. Why didn't you... oh I don't know, tell me that you were going TO BE LATE?!"
I rubbed my ears from the extreme volume of Octavia's voice, "Octy, dearest, I didn't call you because I had no idea that I'd be that late, so please... please forgive me," with sarcasm thickly dripping from my voice.
Octavia's eye twitched and her mane started to fray, as she said, "Vinyl, or should I call you DJ-PON3, THIS is why I hate you at times! You never think about me, do you?! Did it ever occur to you that I might have actually been worried?"
"I'm fine, Octy dearest. Look, I just happened to take a job, which happened to take a bit longer than I had expected, and I just happened to have not called you. That's all. Nothing to get worked up over." In hindsight, this was a horrible choice of words, but hindsight is 20/20 as they say.
"Nothing to get worked up over?!" echoed an angry Octavia, "Do you have ANY idea what it's like, to come home from a stressful day of work, expecting to see your roommate there, but not finding her? And having no explanation why?!"
"Oh please! You're job isn't that stressful!" As I said this I heard a needle scratching across a record, warning me to shut up.
Octavia's eye twitched even more. "Oh really?" she asked, her voice dangerously close to dropping a few octaves. A very bad sign, which only got worse. "Well then... let me issue you this! I challenge you to a battle of the bands! A one versus one. Me versus you! Then you'll see what it's like to be a cellist!" she said, her voice cold to the point of freezing. Any sane mare would run away just then, but I didn't.
"Fine! Then I accept!" I exclaimed, clearly lacking foresight. If either one of us were wearing gauntlets, we would have thrown them down at each other. Octavia then stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
A few minutes later, my brain ran over my mouth in its attempt to catch up with what in Tartarus I had just said. The incoming face hoof changed nothing, but it made me feel better, only a little though. I tried having another drink of my coffee, but spat it out as soon as I did due to how cold it had gotten. I buried my head in my hooves, wondering why I had accepted the challenge. I sighed, and decided to go back to bed.
A few hours later, I woke up, and was struck with a horrible realization. It hadn't been a dream. I realized there was only one thing to do, and that was get set up for the upcoming battle. I walked over to the table, and found a note awaiting me. It read,
Vinyl Scratch,
The venue for our battle shall be Melodic Stage. The time shall be Midnight. May the best mare win.
Signed, Octavia Philharmonica.
I sighed and tried to remember where the stage was. It struck me with about as much force as the stage itself would have. It was specifically designed to amplify musical magic, and music in general. I couldn't remember the name of the stallion who built it, but could remember part of a nickname for him, 'Something stupid John-something.' I never did get that, and I wondered why for a few moments, but I then remembered what else he was responsible for. The spa he had built must have been possessed or something because of how it acted. Boiling hot water one second, freezing cold the next.
I pondered the time, but didn't think it too important. I figured that it just gave me more time to get my stuff together, and hope that nothing would get in the way. I now regret those thoughts. The first problem was with my records. As luck would have it, I had lent them to Lyra and only Faust knows the reason why I would do that, certainly not one that I could remember. So my first stop was to her apartment, somewhere in Canterlot.
Several hours later, I found myself in front of her apartment, and knocking on the door. The door opened, and I found myself face-to-face with Bonbon. "Vinyl, what brings you here?" she asked, a confused look on her face.
"I'm here to see Lyra. And before you ask why, I would like to get back my records, which I lent to her," I said, figuring that Bonbon had no idea.
As if to prove me right, she said, "You lent her records? Oh..." and trailed off, a look of sudden realization upon her face. "I thought those were hers."
"Bonbon... what did you do?" I asked, suspecting the worst.
"Well... I MAY have thrown them out," she said, sheepishly. "But don't worry, they are still in the trash can. Let me go get them!" she exclaimed, disappearing behind a closed door.
A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a stack of records. I made a mental note to ask Octavia how that worked, then I levitated them over to me, and quickly looked over them. Finding none missing I said, "Thanks Bon." I wondered why she had thrown them out in the first place, but figured her and Lyra must have had an argument or something. I walked back towards home, records in tow, when I passed Sugar Cube Corner. It was at this moment that my stomach decided to remind me of the fact that it hadn't had anything to eat since last night.
As I walked in the door, I noticed the mail mare, Ditzy Doo, sitting by herself with a big bag of muffins. I took it upon myself to ease her of the burden of eating so many muffins, and sat down opposite her. "Hey Ditz, mind if I join you?" I asked, not caring that it was a little too late for that.
"Mmhph-hmph," she said, in the midst of eating a muffin. A few moments later, she said, "I said, 'Sure!'" as she pushed a muffin over to me. I gratefully took it and ate it. An idea occurred to me while I was eating it. "Hey Ditzy, do you know how to play an instrument?" I asked.
"Nope!" she cheerfully replied, "I tried playing the saw once but I hit too many sharps."
"When was that?" I asked.
"Oh, a few months ago by my calculations. I find muffins are great for telling time," she replied.
"Okay then..." I trailed off. Having nothing else to talk about, and having found that that muffin had been rather filling, I left. I soon found myself back at my house, with nothing else to do but plan out what music I'd play.
So that's how I found myself in front of my turntable, speakers at the ready, with my roommate, setting up her cello, at the other side of the Melodic Stage. I regret having done this, but I have no choice. I looked over towards the nearest clock, and found it was 11:55 PM. I sighed, and gave my equipment one last check, for no reason other than to pass the time.
Three minutes later I noticed Octavia waving her hoof over towards me, right in the middle of the stage. I trotted over, wearing my glasses and wondering what she wanted. "May the best musician win," she said, her voice somehow colder than it was the first time it chilled, and a hoof proffered.
"May the best musician win, indeed," I replied, taking up a much more professional tone than usual. I shook the proffered hoof and walked, determinedly, back to my half of the stage.
The clock struck twelve, and Octavia started off. I'll admit her music was good, but I was soon distracted by a far more pressing issue. Storm clouds had rolled in, and it started pouring rain. I knew for a fact no rain had been scheduled for today, so this worried me. The fact that water started to pool around Octavia didn't seem to stop her; in fact she actually picked up speed. I noticed this seemed to have increased the speed of the rain, but I couldn't be bothered by that, I had a job to do.
I set the needle on the first record, and started it playing. I noticed lightning starting to strike dangerously close to my speakers, but I had to focus. Octavia retorted by picking up even more speed with her playing, which in turn sped the rain up even more. The water level was starting to rise when something weird happened. As I put on the second record on the second half of my turntable, the entire half of the stage lifted up, I have no idea how. Then, in a flash, a lightning bolt hit one of my speakers. Then another one hit the second speaker. Curiously enough, this didn't damage either of them. In fact, they started... pulsing, I suppose is the best word, with electricity. I looked out the corner of my glasses, and saw that the lightning was still striking my speakers, but in time to the music.
Before I got the chance to to investigate them more, Octavia sped up even faster. I blinked in surprise, not thinking that was even possible. I took a closer look at the cello and noticed something odd about it. It had what looked like a thin watery veil surrounding it. I squinted and saw that the veil was actually made out of water. It shimmered in the light provided by the lightning. Then, all the other water which had been pooled to about half the height of the cello, suddenly formed a giant levitating ball of water. I did a double take, to make sure that Octavia wasn't a unicorn. She wasn't.
With one fast move of her bow, the giant ball became a jet, and rushed towards me. Almost instinctively I scratched the two needles across the records, and several rings of air blasted out from my super charged speakers. The rings looked almost like horseshoes as they countered the giant jet of water, and struck Octavia, accompanied by a bolt of lightning.
The sight of Octavia flying back like that, snapped me out of whatever spell I had been under. I rushed over to her, the storm dissipating behind me. I yelled out, "Octavia, are you alright?!"
Octavia shakily got up, and sputtered out, "I'm alright. Just a little... shaken up." This was a clear lie, but any reply was good enough for me. She chuckled a little, and asked, "What... happened?"
"I have no idea," I said. I then noticed that, somehow, the entire storm had disappeared, within several minutes of the music having stopped. "Wait a second... maybe... why, that's it!" I exclaimed, as an idea struck me.
"Please enlighten me with your clearly genius idea," she said, dripping with sarcasm, but still a bit raspy.
"I'm glad your sense of humor wasn't damaged," I deadpanned, then added, "Since you expressed interest, I suppose I'll explain. This stage, designed by what ever that pony's name was, must have increased the magic we expressed, causing the whole storm situation!"
"That seems all together too convenient, and simple, you must agree," Octavia replied, pointing out the one thing I had hoped she wouldn't.
"Well... yes, that's true. But do you have a better explanation?" I asked.
Before Octavia got a chance to reply with what probably had been an answer as wrong as mine was, I noticed a cloaked pony, running away from the scene. With the quick assumption that anypony who'd run away that quickly whilst wearing a hood must be up to something shady, I decided to give chase. True, I don't normally make assumptions like that, but for some reason it felt like the right thing to do.
Leaving Octavia behind me, I caught up to the cloaked pony surprisingly quickly. I yelled out, "Who are you?" and stomped on a piece of cloak as it fluttered past me. Whoever it was tripped because of the sudden stop. In fact, I had accidentally stomped on the cloak with so much force that it was ripped off the strange pony entirely.
I found myself presented with a pony I didn't recognize, with a pale blue coat and a two toned mane. One tone in a slightly darker blue, the other tone even darker. There seemed to be a faint green vapor surrounding her, which thinned with every second. "Who I am... is of no importance," she said in a serious tone, which was clearly forced.
She got up as I asked, "Well then, what were you doing at that stage?"
"Oh that?" she asked, flippantly waving a hoof in the air, "I was just absorbing all the negative emotions that were being produced! That stage does a great job of amplifying them, you'd be surprised."
"Why, that's it!" I exclaimed, again, "That must of been what had fueled us on so! Why, it makes so much sense now! I was right!" I got so worked up over figuring out what had happened, that I failed to notice the strange pony running away. I wasn't worried by that, however, figuring she couldn't be that much trouble. I ran back over to the stage, and found Octavia standing up, and looking only a little worse for wear.
"Let's promise to never fight like this again, okay?" she asked, having thought it over.
"Sure, Octy! After all, we both know who won that, right?"
"Right. Me!" she exclaimed.
"Me!" I exclaimed at the same time. We then glared at each other, "Same time tomorrow?" I asked, knowing that was only way we could figure out who was better.
"Same time tomorrow," she confirmed.
