"Where is it? Where is it?"
Octavia Melody loved her life and lifestyle. She had a nice house, an acceptable diet, great friends with whom she could both talk and play classical music and even a little white unicorn pony named Vinyl who could DJ really well (for dubstep, anyway). In fact, Vinyl was such a good friend, Octavia had invited her to live in her house, which the little pony had graciously accepted, turntable and all.
That particular morning, Octavia was rummaging through her wardrobe and drawers. She had a concert to practice for and was going to meet up with her other bandmates to prepare. Octavia was usually the first one there, but today she was running late.
All because she couldn't find her skirt.
It was a very nice skirt, for an article of clothing. Short and pink with a purple treble clef embroidered on the side. It was Octavia's favorite skirt. She was already wearing her white shirt, her pink bow tie sat undone around her neck and a purple top sat folded on her bed ready to go with them but she needed that skirt.
"Uh," Octavia groaned as she slammed her wardrobe shut. "If I don't find it, I shall have to wear something I've already worn." This possibility didn't sit well with Octavia. She couldn't possibly meet her fellow musicians wearing soiled clothing.
"Where could it possibly have gone?" Octavia sat down on her bed, thinking of all the scenarios. It was unlikely someone had broken in and stolen her skirt. She also doubted that she herself had thrown it out accidentally. She had even checked her laundry bags to see if she'd thrown it in with the dirty clothes, and nothing. There was only one possibility left.
"Vinyl."
Of course. Who else would have complete access to her clothes? Who would she never suspect? Who had tried spinning a scratch record on the tip of her bow?
No, nix that last one.
Octavia got up and was about call out when she suddenly remembered. No, it couldn't have been Vinyl. Sure, she's occasionally a bit of a troublemaker, but she wouldn't hinder me with this kind of prank. But then her realistic side brought up the fact that she was still standing bottomless in her home instead of completely dressed and waiting for her bandmates.
"Right. There's no other choice. I'll have to ask her."
Octavia got up from her bed and stretched, sighing at the feel of only her shirt. From her bedroom she walked into the lounge and called for her friend. "Vinyl! Vinyl?" Her voice echoed once, then died out.
"Where is she?" the cellist wondered. She looked around, seeing her cello waiting to be carried off to another practice session. Vinyl's turntable was propped up beside it, not in use. "Maybe she's in the kitchen. She always liked breaking into the cookie jar." Octavia closed her eyes and conjured up a mental image of the little pony looking up at her guiltily, her face covered in crumbs and her cheeks full.
The kitchen was just as Octavia had left it: countertops clean, dishes in the sink, chairs pushes against the table. Everything just right and neat, the way Octavia liked it. Although Vinyl likes a bit of a neat mess herself. Now, let's see about those cookies.
Octavia moved to the cupboards over the counter, feeling the cool floor tiles beneath her bare feet and the chill they left on her legs. She reached up and pulled the food cupboard open, expecting to find her little friend dunking for cookies, but was surprised to find the inside empty. Well, empty of a white unicorn. The cookie jar was still there.
"So you didn't go for the cookies," Octavia muttered to herself. "At least..." She grabbed the jar, pulled it down and flipped the lid. Inside were two dozens chocolate-chip cookies. "No, still there."
A rumbling sound broke Octavia's concentration. I can't be hungry now; I've just had breakfast. But there was no denying it. Some part of her was demanding sustenance. And those cookies were looking really good....
"Oh well. I was never really fussy about my hips anyway." Octavia transferred the entire cookie to her mouth, crushed it to pieces and swallowed it down. She didn't feel particularly satisfied, but her stomach didn't say anything about it. Wonderful. Now to find that unicorn.
Octavia went from room to room, even checking the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and came out with absolute zilch. "This is ridiculous," she decided, throwing herself down on her bed. "I've looked everywhere and can't find Vinyl. What did she do, leave the house?"
Suddenly, meeting up for a practice session became unimportant. The thought of Vinyl having left the house frightened Octavia and she hoped that wasn't the case here. She had told Vinyl not to go outside without her permission and supervision and the unicorn had done as she was bidden. "Then if she's not inside and not outside, where is she?"
... zzzzzzzzzz...
Then Octavia heard it. An almost inaudible sound that would escape most people's hearing, but not Octavia's musical ear. It was almost like a vibration, gently rattling something. Where is that coming from? Octavia stood up from the bed and surveyed her room. Everything seemed normal and she certainly couldn't see Vinyl.
... zzzzzzzzzz...
The noise was getting louder. Octavia followed the soft sound to the chest of drawers. No. She wouldn't have. Why would she do that? She hovered her hand over each of the drawers in turn, waiting for the sound again.
... zzzzzzzzzz...
Octavia zeroed in on the knob of the drawer from which the sound was coming from and slowly pulled it open. There she was, lying on a stack of Octavia's neatly-folded socks, curled up like a cat and producing the cutest sleeping sounds imaginable. Vinyl Scratch, the unicorn.
Relief flooded into Octavia. She had begun to fear the worst, but was now at ease. Well, now that I've found her, what should I do? She first considered letting Vinyl sleep, but decided the little pony had slept enough. Octavia raised a finger and, with a great deal of precision, centered it on Vinyl's soft equine belly and gently pushed inwards.
Vinyl snuffled in her sleep, rolled onto her back and grabbed Octavia's finger. The cellist felt a strange warmth and a strong affection for the adorable little creature sitting on her socks. Octavia carefully slid her other hand underneath Vinyl's curled form, lifted the unicorn out of her drawer and nestled her against her chest. Vinyl stirred and snuggled up against Octavia, hugging her finger tightly.
Oh, why did she have to be asleep? Octavia complained to herself. She felt as though her heart would break if she were to wake Vinyl. No. this is important. As cute as she is when she's asleep, she will understand why it was necessary. So, with way too much guilt, Octavia shook the little pony in her arms until Vinyl's eyelids fluttered open.
"Hmm, huh, whu?" she mumbled sleepily. Vinyl turned her half-closed eyes upwards. "Tavi? What's going on?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Vinyl," Octavia apologized, "but I had to ask you something important."
Vinyl stretched in the human's arms and yawned. "Sure thing. Just let me down on the bed, 'kay?"
"All right, but mind you don't fall asleep on me. This is serious."
Octavia let Vinyl down on her bed. The pony was quick to curl up and smiled lazily up at the cellist, who was watching her half-wary and half-adoring. Vinyl stared at Octavia, locking eyes with her friend and guardian, then her gaze drifted downwards until it rested on Octavia's unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.
"Tavi, why no pants?"
Octavia snorted, putting a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold back her laughter. Vinyl's question was so unexpected. She forgot that the little pony tended to be blunt when sleepy. "Yes, Vinyl," she said. "Although you know by now that I tend not to wear pants, rather skirts."
"Uh huh. Pants, skirts, all the same to me."
"Anyways, as you've just noted, I am indeed wearing nothing on my legs."
"Hard to miss," Vinyl commented.
"Yes, very hard. The reason I'm not wearing a skirt is because I can't find it. Would you happen to know where my skirt is?"
The unicorn scratched her head. "You mean that purple wrap thing you're so attached to? I don't know."
Concern gripped Octavia like a tight sousaphone. She stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the bed, Vinyl watching her curiously. What would she do now? Even Vinyl didn't know where her skirt was.
Great. Now I'll have to go pick something out of my dirty laundry. And all my bandmates will complain about the smell and my unprofessionalism, so much that none of us will be able to practice and we'll play at the concert unprepared and we'll all disband and it'll be the end of my music career as I know it."
"Uh, Octi? Why're you talking to yourself?"
Octavia jerked, realizing she'd gone from thinking to speaking mid-sentence, and Vinyl had overheard her. She looked down at the pony, all smiles, and said, "Nothing, Vinyl. Nothing whatsoever." Octavia wasn't one for lying, but didn't like seeing Vinyl sad.
Vinyl stared at Octavia, her small mouth fixed in an unsure frown. The cellist was certain her little friend didn't know what was troubling her, or even if she was troubled. Octavia was about to change the subject, ready to push the band practice aside completely, when Vinyl got up, walked across the bed and clambered into her lap.
"Uh, V-v-vinyl," Octavia stuttered, looking straight down at the pony. She could feel Vinyl's soft fur rub against her legs and found it incredibly comfortable while at the same time distracting.
The unicorn elected to ignore Octavia and aimed higher, throwing one little hoof over her shoulder and starting to pull herself up onto Octavia's chest. Octavia quickly stood up, holding Vinyl at arm's length. The little pony had her gaze focused on Octavia's face, staring at her in an unnerving manner. "Vinyl, what is it?" Octavia asked cautiously.
With slow movements, Vinyl stretched out a hoof and touched Octavia's face. The cellist was about to pull away when Vinyl retracted her hoof and looked at the bottom of it. Her expression became a mixture of bemusement and smugness. "Octi?"
"Y-yes?" Octavia replied nervously.
Vinyl twisted her hoof around so that the bottom was facing Octavia. "Tell me what this is."
Octavia looked at the little pony's hoof. Stuck to the bottom surface were a number of brown crumbs.
Chocolate chip cookie crumbs.
Octavia was sure she was blushing, though Vinyl didn't react to it if she was. She slowly put a hand to her face and pulled it away. More crumbs came off on her hand. I must have eaten that cookie more messily than I'd originally thought. Octavia looked back at Vinyl. The unicorn was smiling at her rather smugly.
"You keep telling me to stay out of the cookie jar," Vinyl said mockingly, grinning triumphantly. "You're always watching me in the kitchen for any movement toward the cupboard. And now, here you are, hypocritically taking a cookie."
"I was hungry and desperate, Vinyl. I need that skirt. It is crucial for my appearance."
Vinyl pushed her hoof back towards Octavia's face, this time gently nailing her on the nose. It was a strange habit of Vinyl's to bop — or as she said it, boop — her on the nose. But when Octavia would boop her back, Vinyl would roll over and start acting like a dog or a cat.
Octavia sighed. I guess Vinyl really doesn't know where my skirt is. Guess I'll have to show up in something less formal and a lot more displeasing. The cellist was really bummed out, and she looked it too. Vinyl picked up on this, having a great view of Octavia's visage from her held position.
"Uhhh, Tavi?"
Vinyl waved her hoof in front of Octavia's face, but the half-dressed musician was pushed too far into depression to reply. Octavia slowly sank back onto her bed, placing Vinyl in her lap and gently brushing the little DJ's explosive mane for comfort. Vinyl found that she didn't like her best friend in her present condition. Despite her immense fondness for mane-brushing, she got up from Octavia's lap, jumped off the bed and out the bedroom door.
With Vinyl got, Octavia was left with only emptiness to comfort her in this dreadful time. Never before had she been faced with the situation where she'd have to show up to a rehearsal wearing previously-worn clothes. The thought shook Octavia to her musically-balanced core. She was so out of it, she didn't even hear Vinyl walk back into the bedroom, dragging something in her mouth.
Vinyl let the object drop from her mouth and called up to her friend. "Tavi? Hey, Tavi?" Still, Octavia would not, could not, reply.
Think, Scratch. Think. You gotta get Octi out of this mess. Vinyl sank deep into thought, which wasn't something she did very often but for Octavia Melody, the unicorn would ride a muted wubcart through a music hall while the orchestra was playing Mozart. Twice.
Oh, duh. Wubs! Vinyl rushed out of the room, returning moments later pulling along her equipment. With the plug in a lounge socket, she switched on her turntable and turned up the base to 11. This outghta get her attention.
"LET'S DROP THIS BASS!"
From deep within Vinyls amplifiers came a sound so low, so loud, so musically powerful, it shook the building to its foundations and inspired anyone within 50 feet of the place to pay a visit to the music hall. And it also woke Octavia from her stupor.
"Huh? Vinyl. What?" she exclaimed distractedly. "What was that all-"
But then Octavia stopped. She stopped talking when she saw what Vinyl had dragged in, what she was now holding up in her mouth. It was Octavia's pink treble-clef skirt, a little ruffled but otherwise perfectly clean.
"V-vinyl... you, you just.... how?"
Vinyl deposited the skirt in Octavia's lap and sat down on the floor in front of her. "It was on the seat. Y'know, the really high one I take when I'm working on my mixes. It was just kinda spread out, like a pillow, so I didn't notice it. But when I saw how much it bothered you that you couldn't find it, it sparked something in my head, like when a beat hits me, and I remember how much the seat covering looked like your skirt."
Octavia's eyes never strayed from the little white unicorn as she spoke. "Heh. Well, anyway, I remembered that thing, so I went to go see if it even was your skirt, and it was. I brought it back here, thinking about how happy you'd be, but you were still moping. So I pushed my stuff in, played it as loud as I could, and here we are." She finished with a smile.
The cellist held up her skirt. Yes, it was a bit wrinkled and smelt a bit like Vinyl (a not-so horse-like smell) but it was what she needed and she was happy to have it back. So much in fact that she descended upon Vinyl and scooped her into a big, warm hug.
"Thank you, Vinyl," Octavia whispered to the little unicorn—
Who was starting to turn blue. "Tavi. Loosen up. Can't breath," she gasped, her tiny hooves struggling, pinned under Octavia's arm.
"Oops, sorry." Octavia put Vinyl down on her bed and quickly went to put her skirt on, as well as her purple top and shoes. When she emerged, she felt surprisingly revitalized, the skirt being the only thing she needed to get back to her cheery, classical-musical self. Octavia grabbed her cello from the couch and made for the door. Vinyl followed her.
Octavia bent down. "Vinyl, you may help yourself to the cookie jar while I'm out. But please, don't eat too many of them. I don't want you full before supper."
Vinyl smirked. "Please, Octi. How can you possibly have too many cookies?"
"It's happened. Believe me. I really don't want to see you swollen on cookies."
The unicorn took a minute to picture that, and a nervous look crossed her face. "You're right. Me either. Okay, fine, I won't eat all the cookies."
"Great." Octavia poked Vinyl gently on the nose. "So you'll be okay until I get back, yes?"
"Ho, yeah. I'll try not to wub the house down."
"That's always a good thing." Octavia ruffled Vinyl's head and picked up her cello. "Well, I'm off for rehearsal. Take care, Vinyl."
"Don't worry. I will."
Octavia turned back to the door, opened it and stepped out. She walked down the steps and across the patio to the street, but turned around when she heard the window slide open. "Have fun, Tavi!"
"You too, Vinyl!"
Just as Octavia was turning back to the street, she heard her close friend call out, "Hey Octi, do you want your necktie thingy back or somethin'?"
One more, Octavia whirled about and looked up. Vinyl was framed in the open window, flicking her mane with her hoof. Sitting at the top of her spiky mane was a pink bow-tie.
Octavia's pink bow-tie.
"VINYL!"
Author's Note
Another short fic inspired by another piece of art
