Clashing Symphonies

Walking to one's inevitable fate brings a certain calmness to the mind, almost as knowing that you have no other option but to face it makes it a meditating force, rather than a panic inducing one. I still walked with leisure, taking note of the sounds all around me.

The symphony of insectoid wildlife, coming to fruition at the wake of the moon. The background noise of mixed chatter from ponies sharing their last moments of the day to relax and lower their societal guards. The whisp of my long, pitch black hair that trailed behind my waist. The way each hoof step I took was crisply isolated, having almost nothing else but a few select buildings to resound off of, now that the streets were empty.

I tend to wax poetic about the sounds that I hear, but it’s hard for me not too. Music being not only being my muse, but my very outlook and understanding of life.

Sounds held so much subtle emotion and meaning, tone and inflection crafting feelings or expressing them, and all one had to do was tune their ears and listen. Voices were my favorite things to listen too, I could always tell a lot about a pony just from a few conversations with them.

Good examples where my only two friends, Lyra and BonBon.

Lyra had a laugh embedded in almost every one of her words, a child like sarcasm and glee in everything she said. She didn’t take things very seriously, because to her, most things were simply not worth taking seriously. She had a life to live and enjoy, opportunities and adventure to be had, even in the most mundane of things.

BonBon, was gentle and soft spoken, every word she said had care and wisdom that came before it. Sentences structured around forethought and guided planning. She genuinely cared for those around her, and wanted to see ponies live out their lives to the fullest. No emotions she put forth were faked or contrived for some hidden agenda. She just wanted what was best for everypony.

I especially favored being around them when the two were together. The love and passion that burned behind their shared words was that of a beautiful song.

They were truly exemplary ponies, and I was beyond fortunate to have them as allies in life.

I have many other examples, both good and bad, but I am one to get lost in painting scenery with my diction, trying to create an image with a thousand words. But now, standing in front of my dorm room door, my diction had quickly darkened, leaving me only with shades of gray and black to paint with.

I sighed, I didn't need to hear myself to know that I was already tired of whatever events I would soon endure.

I opened the door, and I swear under every star crafted by the hands of Luna, that a hulking, three headed beast of a canine stood poised near inches away from me.

My mind went blank. My first reflex was to swing my cello case around like a weapon, but the inclusion of my cello within said case made me instantly halt in that thought. Woe is it to be an artist, when tools of trade have value surpassing thy beating heart.

My second reaction was to become acutely aware of the fact that I lacked a flame thrower. Third, to take a moment and curse my predictability in instinctual choices.

And my fourth, was to listen.

The beast was sitting, heart beating in a calm tempo. Its breath panting, almost singing along with a soothing piece that I had in fact created. Its three faces slobbered in a doggy grins. It, by all accounts, seemed pacified.

Just as I was weighing my dignity versus spending a night out on the street, the music playing changed. Electronic, angry buzzes roared through the air. It made me jump, and it made the beast charge towards me at break neck speeds.

I tossed my case to the side as I was bowled over. Promptly, I was covered in slobber by energetic licks covering most of my upper torso. My protests were only silent due to my full body cringe. The beast lumbered off to the outside night. The only sound that could be heard was the maniac laughter of a pony who found this all too amusing.

"Haha... Wait, Spot! C-come back!" A voice choked through giggles.

The instant her voice had even touched my ears was the moment all of my calm had died. I seethed, I could feel my voice come out in a low growl fueled by my very hatred .

"Vinyl Scratch," I spat. "What manner of displeasure have you wrought this time?"

"Oh, hiya Tavi. Didn't see you there." She lied. "I wasn't 'wroughting displeasure' or whatever. I was doing my own little experiment."

I got up and wiped some slobber from my face. "Entailing?"

"Music taming the savage beast, that old mare's tale."

"Loud and blasting wubstep falls within your definition of music meant to tame?"

"It was a valid attempt to see the limits of the experiment..." She said, laughs coming through her voice. "... I also wanted to piss you off." She broke down to a fit of giggles.

There was a number of reasons I loathed Vinyl, this was the first: her laughter. It was the sound of heartfelt enjoyment, and I had almost always heard it at my expense.

I stormed up and grabbed her, thankful that she was wearing a shirt for once so I could grasp her by the collar. I picked her up and slammed her against the walls, in no mood for games. knocking away her purple tinted shades that usually hid away her magenta red eyes. Her frizzy, electric blue and cyan striped mane that exploded around her face was tickling my nose, because I was so close to her. Her white coat was so pure it that it almost hurt the eye to lay its gaze on. Her loose shirt and plain underwear did nothing to hide her admittedly attractive form, that was more suited to be on an Equestrian top model, rather than a ruffian disk jockey.

“You have no idea how badly I want to strangle you right now, you heathen. I am going to hold you responsible for every single thread you’ve caused ruin too.” I was fuming, voice steady and constricted from anger. “You...You ill tempered, foul mannered, poorly conceived little-”

“Oh yes.” Vinyl moaned. Her hands rising to travel along my lower midriff. “I love it when you talk dirty to me!”

I stumbled in my grasp, for the moan sounded completely genuine “I, err… What?”

While I was still confused, Vinyl shunted me. I went tumbling onto our shared living room sofa, now with a healthy dosing of blush to diminish my still scowling face.

“Oh man, you fall for that every time!” She just couldn't stop laughing, her scratchy, tom colt voice over taking the air.

That was reason number two I couldn't stand Vinyl. She knew about my sensitivity to sound, and she amply abused it. Vinyl could fake what ever tone she wanted to throw me off balance. It was mostly lust,, but she also did sorrow, kindness, happiness, all of it.

She could pretend to hold any emotion, and I wouldn't be able to tell if she was serious or not until she started laughing seconds later. She could read me like a book, and I couldn’t puzzle out her specific traits, other than the fact that she enjoyed tormenting me.

I depend my scowl, got up, and went to retrieve my cello in silence.

“Man, if you’re this mad about the slobber, wait till you learn I used up all the hot water for the night.”

I didn't say anything, simply walked passed her and into my room.

“Oh come on Tavi, don’t give me the silent treatment, I love to hear your accent when you get angry.”

“My accent has-...” I stopped myself, knowing that going down that line would just be giving her what she wanted, and returned to my silence.

I set my case down and started to undress, knowing that telling her to leave would just end up in a another scuffle.

“Whats this? Giving me a show? Why Tavi, you naughty, naughty filly. I won't complain, you certainly have a lot to show me.” Vinyl purred.

I turned around to throw my shirt in her face, but still said nothing, looking off to my wall. I didn't want to face her, which was a mistake on my part.

Vinyl materialized right next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders and nuzzling my neck like a cat. I flinched, and not just from her silent approach.

“Talk to me, Tavi, I’m too kinky a mare to get the engines going unless you're yelling at me.” She chuckled. She was making stroking motions with one of her hands, playing with strands of my hair while I stood there, half naked. I could feel her breath tickling my fur as her lips hovered inches away from my nape. The tempo of my heart started speeding up, and I could hear its pounding in my ears. Vinyl’s breathing became painfully loud as I halted my own.

She looked at me, unflinching, letting her magenta eyes swallow me whole. Time seemed to stop, the only thing assuring me of its passage being the steady ticks that came in over the now silent area. Her playful smirk turned positively devious as we stared at each other.

And this, was the most prime example of reason number three for my frustration with this menace.

I was sexually attracted to Vinyl.

It was nothing so profound as love or infatuation, the mare was simply beautiful, unfairly so, and she knew it. Her body uncovered inspired envy; lithe, small, and modestly proportioned, but all smoothly transitioning curves. Her whole figure and profile demanded attention, coupled with her tartarus-may-care attitude that was fine with showing off, it was made all the more alluring. Even her scratchy voice held a note of a sirens song, you wanted her to speak onwards, simply so you could ponder on the beautiful sound of it. And her eyes, those striking, wonderfully colored eyes on top of that gorgeous profile. It was hard to look away.

Vinyl had matched almost all my preferences that I could possibly hold for a mare physically. And once I had accidentally let slip my sexual orientation a few months prior, Vinyl had directed all of those ‘preferences’ into teasing me.

I would have been overjoyed at the prospect, if I could simply stand the mare.

And if she wasn't just doing it to mess with me.

And if I wasn't so overly shy about anything involving sex.

She stayed mashed against me, still toying with my hair, I stood my ground and glowered at her. Flinching away would be a win for her, as its what I always did. Lyra’s words rung in my ears, steeling my determination to grab some form of victory from the nights trial.

What felt like eons passed before Vinyl broke contact, she seemed to finally give up. “Jeash Tavi, something crawl up your flank and die?”

And then I had to go ruin my victory. I picked up my cello case and swung at her, screaming. “STOP CALLING ME TAVI!” It wasn't as if it was hard for her to dodge my clumsy swing, She simply stepped out of the way and let my momentum swing me.

“Celestia lay scorn upon you! You insufferable simpleton!” I shouted

“Ah, there we go, that’s the song I wanted to hear you sing.”

I threw many of my more colorful obscenities at her, and from the look of half amusement, half confusion she gave back, she had never heard most of them. I retired to my shower, I didn't care that it was cold, If anything I turned it even lower so its chill could clear my head.

Vinyl by all usual means seemed infallible. She was too fast for physical violence, too lackadaisical in her outlook to be afflicted by pranks. We were musical rivals of sorts, but our genres were so different that most of our competition in that regard was in popularity, and even then we attracted completely different crowds.

What I needed was a game, a modus operandi of attack that I could place faith in. Something that would shake Vinyl to her inner core. I could use my talent for listening and discern when something bothered her, but I would have to hold a conversation with her over multiple topics, and I’m not sure I could even bare such a thing for that long.

But the longer I stood in the icy water, the more it came clear that my only hope, was to start talking to her. I normally only spent my time yelling at her or ignoring her, Just the idea of actually trying to make chit chat and banter with her was incredibly awkward. I shivered, signalling my need to get out of the shower.

I dried myself off, and kept my towel wrapped around me. When I came out, Vinyl was waiting on my bed, drumming on my case. She wouldn't go so far as to actually mess with my instrument, a small honor among musicians that even she values it seems.

“Vinyl.” I said with no joy or welcome.

“Tavi.” She said as if it were the most amusing word in the world.

“What are you still doing in my room?”

“Oh don't give me that, we've known each other for what, a whole year now? And yet we never really talk.”

“You want to talk. With me.”

“Well, other than stare at your massive titts, pretty much.”

I felt the scowl before I made it, and was about to give her some choice words on the matter of what I thought about her and her desire to ‘talk’. But something stopped me, and that was the fact that Vinyl was smiling. No doubt a preemptive joy from my expected response. She wanted me to get angry, to be upset and start yelling, and it was a marker for how much she had played mental mind games with me that even the offer to talk was enough to send me into a rage.

No. I would not give her what she wanted, not that easily, not anymore.

“Alright Vinyl,” I said, Bringing up one of my desk chairs and sitting in it, towel and all.

It was hard to tell through her shades, but she blinked. She actually blinked, My single change of manner that was willing to share the same room with her for more than two seconds was so contrary to her expectations of me that it had momentarily shocked her into silence. I could almost hear the cogs of her head turn, trying to figure out if she should pull out, or keep playing her hand and try to call my bluff.

I sat there momentarily realizing how dysfunctional the two of us were as roommates for idle talk to be such a shocking turn of events. But I would talk, and during our little talk, I would keep pushing until I found something that made her want to push back. And then the song would begin. It would no longer be a solo, but a clashing duet, Vinyl would probably win the first few rounds, but I had confidence that I could return the ire in short order, once I knew where to aim said ire.

Oh yes Vinyl, we’ll have our talk. And then, I’m going to make you sing, and it's going to be a very sad, bitter, and angry song.