What Truly Matters... and a Bit of Anarchy
“You look nice, Octavia.”
“Oh.” The blush on her cheeks had to be the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. “Thanks. You do too, Vinyl.”
I dunno about that… “Thanks.” While I had chosen to dress more fancily than I would normally, I couldn’t hold a candle to Octavia. She was wearing a black dress that stopped at her hind legs, ending in a little skirt that was just frilly enough to be cute without looking like a little filly pretending to be a ballerina. Around the bottom of her forelegs were black cuffs that accented her lovely gray coat. The flower in her hair completed the ensemble.
Meanwhile, I wore a white dress with gold trim that was held together with a buckle at my chest. I had considered getting a flower as well, but decided against it.
I thought the dress looked… okay, but there was one thing I didn’t have on hoof that I felt naked without.
“Vinyl, wait! Where are your glasses?”
I smiled sheepishly, rubbing my right forehoof across the back of my head. “I left them in my room. Didn’t go well with the dress.”
Octavia’s face showed some combination of mock sadness and actual mild disappointment. “But they went well with you! You were so cute with your glasses.”
I felt my own cheeks heating up, matching Octavia’s. “Really?”
She smiled. “Really. Now, let’s go in.”
We had met just outside of the Crying Onion, the location we had selected as our first date. The reservation wasn’t cheap in the slightest, but since the Celebration of Equestrian Music had paid so well, I had more than enough money to cover the expense.
A light blue unicorn stallion in a black suit greeted us as we entered. “Welcome to the Crying Onion. Do you have a reservation?”
“I do. It should be under Scratch?”
“Ah, yes. Table for two?” When Octavia and I nodded, he continued on. “Right this way, please.”
We followed him across the lush red carpet until we came to our table. The name and price tag had already given me an idea of how incredibly fancy the place was, but it wasn’t until I saw the magic candles that I fully realized it. Since I was a unicorn, I could sense that they were enchanted to emit heat and light, but not to catch fire or burn out. Looking around, I saw a set of them at every table, along with posh ponies in suits that must have cost a fortune, all sitting at tables and sipping at miniscule mugs with steam rising out of them.
“Here are your menus,” the stallion said with seemingly no emotion, placing down two black pamphlets on the table. “I will be back in a few minutes.” He walked away.
I could see Octavia smiling with just a slight bit of trepidation as she sat down. “This place is... lovely,” she breathed.
The hesitant tone in her voice told me something was eating at her. I perched on the opposite seat and looked into her deep violet eyes and saw… something. “You sure?”
“Yes, of course I am…” She looked away briefly. “This place is wonderful.”
You sure, Octy?
My musings were interrupted when the waiter returned with glasses of water. “Would you like anything else to drink, ladies?”
“No thanks,” I blurted out quickly.
Octavia, on the other hand, opened the menu to the drinks section and stared intensely for a few seconds, before finally turning to the waiter. “I see you have a lot of wine on this list. Would you happen to carry any other hard drinks?”
The waiter shook his head. “I am afraid not, miss. We have water, tea, and wine, but we do not have any other drinks on our menu. Perhaps you should have looked at our menu before coming here,” he finished, his stony demeanor just barely hiding his percieved superiority.
I almost missed Octavia’s face changing. It was so quick I wasn’t sure if it had happened or not, but for the briefest of moments she looked as though the waiter’s demeaning comment had driven her into a righteous fury. “I see. Well then, I think I’ll just take some water as well. Thank you, sir.”
“I will be back later to take your orders. Have a good night, both of you.”
As he trotted away, I opened my menu to the appetizers list. Nothing on it appeared to be labeled in Equestrian, and not much looked edible. “The food looks nice,” I chimed, trying to keep the straightest face I could as I said it.
“Yes, it looks quite delicious.” Octavia’s eyes darted up and down across the menu. “I may take some time to decide what to order.”
“Yeah. Same.” Not for the same reasons, but I surely will.
As I went from page to page of the menu, I saw dozens of options, but none of them appeared to be normal food. It was nigh-impossible to even pronounce half of them, and even the options that were somewhat recognizable, like a hay burger, had so much additional complexity that I wouldn’t have even known what it was if it wasn’t written at the top next to each picture. It all seemed so incredibly high-class, and I couldn’t decipher what most of it was even supposed to be. At last, I made my choice.
“I think I’ll just have a salad.”
“That’s all?” Octavia questioned. “Well, I’ll have… hmm…”
I looked at her, deep in thought. She looks more frustrated than anything else. Wonder why...
“I’ll get the, ah... vic… vicki, vishi… vichyssoise. Yes, the vichyssoise.” Octavia folded her menu and put it down in front of her.
The what? I thought to myself. “Good choice. I almost got that myself,” I replied, pretending to understand. The buck is a vishy swas?
“Have you finished choosing your meals, misses?”
I turned suddenly to see the waiter already back. Holy tartarus, was he just standing behind us or something? “Yeah. We have. I would like a salad, please.”
“Our salad options include the Bok l’Hong, a Coban Salatasi, a Curtido, a Fattoush, a Fiambre, a Gado-gado, a Golbanengi Muchim, an Insalata Caprese, a Karedok, a Kinlinat, a Kisir, a Larb, a Lyutika, a Matbucha, a Mesciun…”
With every new word I had to fight back the urge to ask him what the buck he was talking about, but I decided it would be best to just pretend he was making sense.
“...A Naem Khluk, a Nicoise, a Panzanella, a Pao Cai, a Pasembur, a Perigourdine, a Phla mu, a Piyaz, a Rahed, a Rojak, a Shirazi, a Sabich, a Shopska, a Som Tam, a Szlaot, a Tabbouleh, a…”
“I believe Miss Scratch here would simply like a salad with lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots. Is that correct, Vinyl?”
It took me a second to realize that Octavia, the pony who I assumed had been born and raised in places like this, interrupted a waiter. “Yes, it is,” I breathed out after a moment of silence.
Judging by the look on his face, he was just as flabbergasted. After another few seconds, he levitated a pen in the air, jotted down a few notes on a notebook, and turned towards Octavia. “And you, Miss?”
“I would like the…” she went silent for a moment, concentrating. “The vichyssoise. A plain vic… a-a plain one, please,” she finished, seeing the stallion about to open his mouth again.
“I will be back with your food shortly.” The stallion walked away.
Octavia and I sat there, looking at each other. At last, I opened my mouth. “So what was it you were looking for on the drink menu?”
“Oh… nothing too important,” Octavia said with a sly grin. “I was just hoping they had cider.”
“Really? I didn’t think you drank much. Figured those drinks we got a few nights ago were a rare treat.”
She chuckled. “No, no. I get a nice drink every few nights. Never enough to make me sick the next day, but enough to feel just a bit more chipper when I’m done.” She laughed again.
Wow… she’s so cute right now, I thought, listening to her ador. “Sorry they don’t have any here.”
“Oh, it’s not a large problem…” She looked away. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Okay. Good.” I’ll take your word for it... but I don’t like that annoyed look you’ve got going. “So what’s vishy… vishies…” I stuttered.
She rolled her eyes. “I have no bucking idea.”
Her sudden curse gave me a jolt, but I did my best to pretend not to notice. “Did the food look good in the picture?”
She thought for a second before responding. “I don’t think it had one, actually.”
“So, you don’t have the slightest idea what it is you’re getting even though you’ve ordered it?”
She shook her head. “Not a clue.”
I stopped for a second, trying to decide how to reply. Flatter her. That always works. “That’s pretty daring of you, to not even ask the waiter.”
“Oh, right. I could have done that.” Octavia brought her hoof up, about to lightly slap her face with it, before suddenly stopping and bringing it back down, smiling as though she was trying to look innocent of a crime. “How-how foolish of me,” she said quietly.
Right. Fancy place. No facehoofing allowed.
The minutes passed in sullen silence. They felt like hours. I admired Octavia’s prettiness as she shifted in her seat, from sitting upright and smiling to stooping with a slight frown to resting her head on her right hoof as she tapped the table with her left, making her annoyance known to me. “Octavia?” I asked. “Any idea how long it’ll take for our food to arrive?”
She shook her head. “Never been here before.”
“Really? You seemed confident about this place. Not to mention, it’s pretty fancy.” Should I say it? I wondered. Yeah, of course I should. Flatter her, remember? “A pretty fancy place for a mare who’s both pretty and fancy.”
Octavia froze for but a fraction of a second. I almost wrote it off as nothing, but somehow I could tell it was important.
But then she smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, Vinyl.”
I studied her face, trying to figure out what she was feeling. She didn’t look unhappy or angry. She just looked…
Resigned.
“Sorry…” I muttered. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
“Of course not,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “You’re being polite, and that is something to be proud of.”
More time passed, Octavia occasionally asking me some question about something neither of us cared about so I could give an answer just as riveting.
“It’s been, what, an hour? Maybe two? Sweet Celestia, this is taking bu-” I cut myself off before I swore. “Forever.”
“No need to watch your mouth in front of me.” Octavia blushed. “You’re cute when you swear, the way your ears fold back and you bite your bottom lip. And it’s not just taking forever. It’s taking bucking forever.”
I froze in place. I could almost hear the gears in my head turning, trying to process everything Octavia said. So… she wants me to swear. She is openly swearing. And… she thinks I’m cute. Gah, what am I supposed to say now?
“Bucking forever indeed.”
Octavia giggled.
Yep. That’ll do.
The muffled clopping of hooves heading our way signalled that our wait had finally come to its end. Finally.
“Here are your orders, misses.” The stallion placed a fairly normal looking salad in front of me and something that looked like a bowl of milk with parsley in front of Octavia. “Is there anything else you would like?”
“No, we’re good.” The way Octavia said it made me think she wanted him to leave. “We have everything we need.”
“Then I will be back when you are finished.” He trotted away quickly.
“So…” I began. “That’s what vishy- your order is? Looks good.” It looks bucking awful. “I bet it tastes just as good.”
“Yes. It looks... delicious.” She gave me another cute grin. “Would you like some?”
Oh, buck, I thought to myself, suddenly terrified. I don’t want to eat this fancy stuff, but I don’t want to make Octavia feel bad… what should I do? After mulling it over for a second, I chose my next few words. “Well, I’m just getting a salad. I really don’t have anything to give you in return.”
“That’s very considerate, Vinyl, but it’s really no problem.”
Oh Celestia, how am I supposed to resist those eyes?
“You can take some if you’d like.”
“Well… I’ll let you have the first bite.” I drooped my head down to bite a piece of lettuce off the salad, but then I remembered where I was and picked up the fork with my magic. I speared a small piece and looked at it.
What’s that? It looks kinda… weird. I shrugged and bit into it anyway.
I nearly spat it out.
Oh bucking Celestia! What is this stuff? I looked again at the salad, trying to discern what the heck it was. Was that salad dressing? Damn it, I ordered just a salad!
“How’s your food?” Octavia asked, prompting me to freeze in place while my eyes glanced up to hers.
I forced down the awful taste. “Oh, it’s good. How’s yours?”
“Let’s find out.” Picking up her spoon, Octavia scooped up a bit of the creamy, milky broth and parsley. With a gentle smile, she brought it to her mouth and closed her lips around the spoon.
In one swift motion, she picked up her napkin, brought it up to her face, and spat. “It’s terrible.”
“Is it?” I levitated my own spoon over. “Well, you said I could try it.”
It was stone cold, had bits of vegetable floating in it, and tasted overwhelmingly of potatoes. “Yep,” I agreed. “It’s terrible.”
“Mind if I just try one bit of your salad?” pleaded Octavia.
I glanced away before her alluring gaze could trap me and make me do something foolish again. “Go ahead.” Please let her like it. Please let her like it!
Just two seconds later, I heard the distinct sound of a plate shattering. Snapping my eyes up, I saw Octavia glaring, standing over the salad bowl as it lay in pieces on the ground. “We’re leaving,” she stated, her almost emotionless voice belying an immense rage.
I was too shocked to argue.
“Miss?” the stallion yelped, running toward us. “Whatever are you doing?”
“First, you took forever with our food, and second, it turned out awful!” Octavia shrieked. “My vichyssoise is bland as Tartarus. And you messed up a salad. A salad. How in all of Equestria did you manage to mess up a salad?”
“W-whatever was wrong with the salad? We gave you the lettuce, tomato, and spinach just as you asked. It had a little balsamic tamari in it, but-”
“Buck this place, and buck you!” Octavia fumed. “Actually…” Her voice quieted to a sudden calm. The most terrifying calmness I’d ever seen, thanks to the adorably angry smile appeared that took hold of her face. “Fuck this place. And. Fuck. You.”
Any and all action around us halted. Ponies stared at both Octavia and the waiter. Everypony knew that word, but its use was considered to be downright heinous. It had been all but stripped from Common Equestrian for decades.
And the mare I was on a date with just used it twice.
At that moment, her mane was draped across her back. Her lips were curled in what could almost be called a snarl. Her breaths were heaving, her eyes piercing, and the stare she was giving the stallion could kill.
By Celestia, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“If you cannot appreciate our food...I am afraid... I am going... to have to ask you to leave.” The stallion’s words sounded forced, his calm facade cracking.
A gray hoof flew seemingly out of nowhere and landed squarely on his snout. As he crumpled to the floor, Octavia looked down on him. “Don’t worry. We were already on our way out.” She draped a forehoof across my back as we trotted out of the restaurant.
Only a few seconds after we left, I stopped walking. “Octavia?”
“Yes, Vinyl?”
Glancing around, I saw that only a few ponies walked the streets, paying us no mind. I spied a small alleyway behind the Crying Onion. I trotted into it, beckoning to Octavia to follow.
The alleyway appeared small and quiet, with a few nice little alcoves to boot. I could see dirt on the ground, the pavement was cracking, and a few colts apparently vandalized the place recently, but that was all right because it was just Octavia and me. Other than the two of us, not even a single pony trotted by.
With no hesitation, I charged towards Octavia. Her eyes widened as my body slammed into her and pushed her up against the wall, but they closed again as my lips met hers.
“Mmmph…” was the only reply she was able to make, but given the way her hooves wrapped around me, I was fairly certain she was enjoying it. The disgusting taste of the salad was washed out by her wondrously sweet flavor. She may be crazy, but damn, she’s a good kisser.
Only when I ran out of breath did I break the kiss. “Octy… you’re… insane… and amazing…” I stopped talking for a few seconds to catch my breath. “But seriously… what was that?”
She responded by grabbing me and dragging me into another kiss.
I don’t know how long we spent there, but it must have been at least ten minutes… or fifteen… or thirty... Only when we were done did Octavia even attempt to answer my question.
“How about we find a restaurant that isn’t fucking terrible, and I’ll try to explain it to you over a pint?”
I nodded. “Just lay off that word for a bit, okay? I’d rather not anger anypony else.”
Judging from that smile on her lips, I knew Octavia had come up with some crazy idea right then. “What word?”
... I gritted my teeth. “Fuck. Most ponies don’t like ever hearing that word be used.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, turning around. “That’s why I said it.”
“Good,” I thought out loud. “This place looks kinda like a normal restaurant.”
“Indeed,” Octavia agreed as we trotted into Joe’s Donuts n’ Diner. “And there are a few empty tables, so we won’t have to wait to be seated.”
“Hey there!” called out a light brown unicorn stallion. “I’m Donut Joe.”
“Hello, sir,” Octavia began. “This is Vinyl Scratch and I am Octavia.”
For the smallest of instances, I could swear I saw a look of nervousness on his face. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, leaving me to wonder if I had just imagined it. “Party of two?”
I nodded. “Just us.”
“Right this way.” He trotted towards a nearby booth. Unlike the stuck-up waiter at the Crying Onion, Joe had a noticeable spring in his step as he led us to our seats. Also unlike the Onion, the restaurant itself seemed to be somewhat normal, what with a marble floor, some typical seats at the tables, and none of those magical candles. “Anything to drink, ladies?”
“Glass of hard cider,” blurted Octavia. “Largest glass you have.”
I chuckled. It’s nice to be at a place where that’s an okay thing to ask for. Wasn’t gonna drink on a first date, but if Octavia’s getting some... “Make that two.”
“All right! It’ll just be a minute,” Joe said as his hooves clacked away on the marble floor.
“So, first question. What w-”
“Not just yet, Vinyl,” Octavia interrupted. “Let’s look at the menus and choose our food.”
I sighed in relief the moment I saw the options. Normal food. It’s all normal food! It took only seconds for me to decide on a nice hayburger with a side of salad. “Okay, made my choice.”
Octavia nodded. “Same.”
True to Donut Joe’s word, he returned just an instant later, setting down two massive glasses of cider. “Have you decided on your orders?”
“We have,” I responded. “I’d like your double hayburger with a salad. No dressing!” Octavia laughed at my sudden reaction.
“Don’t worry. We only give dressing on request. And you, Miss?”
“I’ll take your breaded vegetable fry, please. And an appetizer of hash browns.” Seeing the hopeful look on my face, she added, “To share.”
“That should be here in about ten minutes. You want some complimentary donuts as an appetizer?”
Octavia and I shared a quick glance. “Sure!” we both exclaimed at the same time.
“Great. Those will be here shortly.”
As Donut Joe walked away, Octavia picked up her glass and gulped down a large swig. After swallowing it, she began talking. “So, you’re curious as to why I did what I did?”
I nodded. “You don’t seem the type to do such a thing.”
“Well…” She smirked. “Clearly you’re not too upset about it considering what happened afterwards.”
I blushed. “You were just so, so-”
“And here’re your donuts!” He set down a plate between us containing an insanely gracious helping of pastries. There were donuts, of course, such as chocolate ones and glazed ones and normal ones and ones with sprinkles and even a few with everything, but there were also cinnamon rolls, croissants, cupcakes, and to top it all off, a few incredibly delicious-looking cheesecake squares.
“W-wow,” I mumbled under my breath, trying not to drool. “Thank you. How much is this going to cost?”
“Not one bit!” Pony Joe shouted, just a bit too loud to seem like the actions of a normal waiter. “You’re the last customers of the day, so you take all of our leftover desserts. Feel free to bring them home.”
Octavia smiled. “Lovely.”
“Your hash browns should be coming any minute, so I’ll come back when it is,” he said before trotting off in a hurry.
I shrugged as I picked up a chocolate donut. “Huh. Still warm.” Taking a bite, my eyes widened at the incredible taste. Wow, this tastes like it just came out of the oven! It’s nice and sweet, soft and easy to chew, with the perfect amount of chocolate flavor to boot. Fantastic!
“So... what was it that you thought I was?” asked Octavia between bites of a cinnamon roll.
“You were…You were a lot of things. Brave, pretty…” After glancing around to make sure nopony could hear, I leaned in. “Really sexy…”
Octavia’s face lit up a scarlet red. “I-I wouldn’t say that. More like I was just angry.”
I nodded. “That as well. But still, I never thought you would do something like that. I figured you liked fancy places, being a bit fancy yourself.”
Octavia cringed. “Please, I know you mean no harm, but do not call me fancy.” She locked onto my eyes. “I fu-” she caught herself, thanks in no small part to me holding up a hoof. “I hate being called fancy.”
Looking away, I mumbled, “Sorry for calling you that, Octy.” My face immediately darkened as I realized what I had said.
“Octy?” She chuckled. “Keep calling me that, please. I love how it sounds. Anyway...” She turned to me, picking up a cheesecake square. “I was raised in a very very fancy family at a very, very fancy house. My parents had high-class jobs and we would always go to fancy restaurants. I was supposed to act like a fancy mare, so I did, and I still do.” She took a bite of the square. “I shtill hate it thrgh.” After swallowing, she continued. “I hate fanciness even though I pretend to love it.” Octavia smiled, a wicked glint in her eye. “I’ve always wanted to do something like that. Just take high-class and rip it apart.”
Just then, our appetizer arrived. “Here you are!” called out Pony Joe as he set down a heaping plate of cut up potatoes next to the massive donut pile. Damn. That was… expedient.
“Thank you, sir,” interjected Octavia. She said it with such rapidity it seemed without thinking. She clearly intended to get back to the conversation. “Your service is impressive.”
“Why, thank you!” Pony Joe responded. As he did, I saw that brief glint of nervousness once again, but it was gone before it even arrived. “Your food should be done in about five minutes, so just hang tight.” He dashed off with surprising speed.
“How the hell are we gonna eat all this?” I asked.
Octavia shrugged as she picked up a fork. “We’ll see, I suppose.” She speared a hash brown, bit into it, and closed her eyes, savoring each second. “This is so much better than the last place,” she breathed.
I nodded in agreement as I tried some potatoes. They were hot from the oven with just the right amount of salt and pepper to give them flavor. “Much better indeed.”
“So where was I?” Octavia wondered aloud. “Oh, yes. I have always wanted to show high-class ponies what-for. That was the closest I’ve ever come.” She let out a contented sigh. “And it was good. I would love to do that again.”
I raised an eyebrow before looking around for Pony Joe. He wasn’t anywhere near, so I spoke. “Kick a waiter?”
Octavia burst out laughing. “Of course not, Vinyl!” she managed in between chuckles. “I want to have some fun. And when other ponies are so stuck-up that they enforce such strictness, where’s the fun in that? I want to, ah... ” Octavia picked up her cider glass again. “Break some rules. And if another pony gets in my way, well…” She raised one hoof and slammed it into the air, right into an imaginary pony’s face. I couldn’t help but cringe slightly as I recalled how the waiter had crumpled under the force of just one blow. “I’ll get them out of my way.”
Wow… she is incredibly crazy and crazily incredible...
“I remember one time when I had just turned eighteen. My family dragged me to a housewarming party for some ponies I’d never met, and there was wine there. I was eighteen, but they refused to let me drink any. ‘You’re too young. You have to be twenty-one years old,’” she said, imitating a high-pitched whine. “I was old enough and I knew it. Fu-buck the law. When nopony was looking, I grabbed a bottle and ran into some empty side room.” She began to laugh. “Can’t remember the rest too clearly, but some other ponies told me I was barely able to walk without tripping over myself. ”
My eyes widened. “Wow. So if you were that drunk, how did you make sure nopony could tell you were the one who took the bottle?”
“While I was still sober enough to think, I poured a bit in the iced tea and drank a ton. Said somepony else must have spiked it.” A nostalgic look appeared on her face. “Got away scot-free,” she sighed. Octavia grabbed a few more potatoes with her fork.”I try to do such things whenever I can. Break the rules whenever possible. Never thought I would do something like what I did at the Onion, though. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes more, eating away at our pile of food. I had a question I found myself wanting to ask, but I decided to wait just a few minutes longer.
We had barely made a dent in the hash browns when Pony Joe arrived again, setting down my hayburger, salad, and Octavia’s fried vegetables. I have to say that despite how much food we’d eaten already, both looked delicious. I used my magic to pick up the bun, with the burgers and toppings stacked inside. A single bite was all I needed to confirm my suspicions.
“This place is great.”
Octavia nodded. “It most certainly is.” She took a bite of breaded broccoli and chewed slowly, yet another cute smile appearing on her face.
Okay, I thought to myself. Now’s the time to ask.
I forced myself to look her in the eye as I began.“So... what does this mean about… us?”
Octavia swallowed before cocking her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Well…” I swallowed out of nervousness, closing my eyes for a brief moment. If she says no, then that’s okay. We can still be friends. “Are we still, y’know…”
“I don’t know.” I looked down, feeling my heart sink down from my chest to my hooves, until I saw she was trying to stifle some giggles. “Are we?”
“Wait… huh?” I questioned.
“I would love to go on another date with you, but we’re only together if we both want to be together. So, would you like to go on another date with me?”
I nodded, grinning wider than a certain pink party pony. “Of course!”
“You done?” I asked.
Octavia nodded. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Both of our forks found themselves placed next to our plates, no longer serving their purpose as utensils. Despite that, each plate still rested beneath a decent heap of food. “Same. I’m super full right now.”
Pony Joe arrived soon after. “Would you like some boxes to take your food home?”
“Yep,” I responded. “May we see the check?”
“Of course.” Pony Joe placed down a slip of paper with the numbers written on it and trotted off to get the boxes.
Wow, these are some really low prices. I reached into a pocket in my dress and placed enough bits to pay for both of us on the table, and even threw in an extra few as a tip. Looking over, I saw Octavia taking one hoof out of her dress pocket, also holding enough for both of our meals. I chuckled at how eager both of us were to cover the bill for each other. Octavia laughed too.
I stood up from the table and offered a hoof to Octavia. “Anything else for tonight?”
She smirked, gazing deep into my eyes. “Care to walk me home?”
Nodding, I took her hoof in mine and we stepped outside. A small group waited in front of the diner, headed by a young filly. As we walked by, Donut Joe trotted up to them and whispered to the adults. I tried to listen in on what he said, but all I was able to get was “closed”. Oh, he must just be telling them the place is closed for the night.
The only thing that bothered me was when the filly took a sudden step away from Octavia and me, trying to hide behind his parents’ legs.
I shrugged and kept walking.
I charged down the street, trying to make it to Octavia’s as soon as possible. I gotta tell her! I thought to myself. This is bad. This is so very bad!
Buildings blurred as I galloped, but here and there I caught a glimpse of somepony’s face. More than a few recognized me, due in no small part to the contents of the newspaper I clenched between my teeth. In the brief instants I glimpsed any faces, I saw some nervousness, a lot of wide eyes, and the slightest bit of genuine fear. As much as I wanted to stop and tell them what had really happened, I couldn’t. I had to keep moving.
But I guess the real story isn’t that much better, is it...
At last, I saw my destination. To most ponies, it appeared to be nothing more than a massive white building with the typical Canterlot assortment of gold-trimmed windows and spires, but to me, it was special. Octavia lived here, and this was where I dropped her off the night before.
Wasting no time, I rapped on the door with my hoof, chest heaving in an attempt to catch my breath.
One second passed, then two, then five. Just when I was about to knock again, Octavia opened the door. Her mane was slightly frazzled, and she was wearing only a purple bow on a white necktie instead of the dress she had the previous night. Despite the hurry I was in, I found myself pausing for a moment. She clearly hadn’t bothered with her appearance like she had the previous night, yet I still couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.
Her words brought me back to the real world. “Vinyl? W-what is it?” she asked, still looking half-asleep.
I dashed past her and into the house’s plain entranceway, slamming the door behind me. “Bfd nfs. Rrd rt.” I spat the newspaper onto the ground. “Bad news. Read it.”
“What? What are you--”
“Read it!”
Octavia grabbed the copy of the Canterlot Times, eyes skimming left to right. Her eyes widened. “Oh… Oh, no…” Suddenly, her features twisted into those of anger. “What the fuck? I only hit him once! I did not hold him down while you kicked him in the face!”
“I know,” I said in exasperation. “Read the next page.”
Flipping the newspaper once, Octavia’s eyes widened again. “How long were we in the alleyway last night?”
“According to this story… quite a while.”
Octavia blushed. “Well, then…” She continued reading. “Wait… he what?” she exclaimed, flustered.
“That’s what I said when I read it,” I answered. “Thinking about it now, it seems obvious, but…”
Octavia threw the newspaper to the ground. “This is terrible.”
“It is,” I admitted. “We should’ve expected somepony would tell the police or the news what you did.”
She sighed in exasperation. “You’re right about that. I never would’ve realized that Pony Joe canceled a reservation because he was worried we’d wreck the place, though.”
The sharp knocking of a hoof against wood rang out, jolting both of us. “Open up! This is the Canterlot Police!” a voice shouted, stern and formal.
“Wait… how…” I slapped my hoof against my face when I realized what had happened. “I am an idiot! They must have seen me running. I’m sorry, Octy.”
The feeling of a hoof under my chin caused my to raise my head in surprise. I looked up to see Octavia. “It’s all right, Vinyl. They were bound to confront us sooner or later with an article like this up in the air. Now,” she said, flashing a smirk, “let’s get this over with.”
I shook myself out of my stupor. She’s right. There’s nothing we can do to avoid this now. “Yes. Let’s.”
Octavia shifted her head from side to side as she trotted towards the door, sending a loud crack reverberating through the air. “Hello, officer,” she greeted as she opened it, smiling.
“Octavia Melody and Vinyl Scratch!” exclaimed a stone-faced white stallion dressed in a police uniform. “Both of you are being placed under arrest for unarmed assault and disturbing the peace.” Another guard stomped out from behind him with several pairs of hoofcuffs.
“Umm…” I mumbled a hoofful of words under my breath before clearing my throat. “Sirs? I did read the newspaper this morning, but it’s, well... not true.”
The guard released an annoyed sigh, staring at me with irritation on his face. “We have several eyewitness testimonies stating that you two were involved with the crime. Are you saying that everypony we talked to is lying or incorrect…” His tone grew harsher with every word that spewed from his mouth. “...and that you and Octavia Melody have no relation to the unarmed assault that took place at the Crying Onion last night?” He sounded annoyed and resigned, as though he had said this type of stuff to dozens of other suspect ponies-hell, he probably had.
“That’s… umm…” Think, Vinyl, think! “We were present, but a lot of what the newspaper says is, ah, wrong, sir.” I rubbed my right forehoof against the back of my head. “Octavia here never held down the waiter. Right, Octy?”
Silence greeted both the officer and me.
“Riiiiight?” I said, nudging Octavia’s shoulder.
“Yes, officer.” Octavia obediently raised her forehooves, holding them out to be cuffed. “We were present at the scene of the crime. In fact, we would like to request an audience with the princess to explain what happened last night.”
The guard stopped for a moment before nodding. “That is within your rights. However, it will be several hours before the princesses will be able to see you. They have their daily courts to contend with.”
Octavia nodded. “Of course, sir.”
What? Damn it, Octy! I nearly opened my mouth to ask her what the hell she was thinking, but with two guards staring us down, I knew it would be better to wait. Seeing that I had no other choice, I copied her movements and let the guardponies drag both of us away.
I saw more than a few ponies giving us strange looks as we passed by. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest, given the full escort to a holding cell by a pair of armed guards, but I still found myself embarrassed. It’s one thing to have all the attention on you at a show, I mused, and another to have all the attention on you because of something like this.
The walk couldn’t have been over soon enough. It couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but by the time Octavia and I were shoved through the doors to the castle, I felt as though we’d been walking for eternity.
At first, I thought the building they’d brought us to looked rather unimposing, but then the guards shoved open the doors and dragged us in. The lights in the ceiling barely illuminated the front room, but it still only took a few seconds to drink in all the details. The grungy floor, dust-covered desk, and singular empty cell all proved one thing. This building hasn’t been used for a while.
“The two of you will be sharing a cell,” deadpanned the guardspony. “Please refrain from any unseemly actions until the princesses are able to speak with you.”
The other guard took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the cell, and opened the door. Unwilling to make the situation any worse, I stepped into the cell without argument. Octavia followed behind me, just before the rattle of the key and the click of the lock sounded again, trapping us.
Despite our tense situation, as soon as the guards were distracted doing work, I turned to Octavia. “Why did you think it was a good idea,” I whispered, “to let them take us?”
“They weren’t listening to your excuse, this results in as little conflict with the law as possible, and the princesses are nice,” rattled off Octavia. “Especially the last one-Celestia’ll be way more forgiving than these two.”
I nodded in understanding. “I see…” Glancing around, I saw that the first guard had trotted off someplace else, and the second was staring at papers, with only occasional glances towards us every so often. “Well, we’re gonna be here for a while. Now what?”
Octavia beckoned me with her hoof, a sultry look on her face.
“Umm… what are you doing?”
“W-wait…” She laid her head in her hooves. “Never mind. I was going to suggest we kiss, but the guard is standing right there. Terrible idea.”
“This is gonna be a long day.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “This is so boring.”
“Yeah,” murmured Octavia from her curled-up position on the ground. “Talking about whatever popped into our heads was kinda fun for the first hour or two, but we’ve been here way longer than that.” She yawned. “I’m going back to sleep.” Closing her eyes, she placed her head down...
Only to jolt up when the door to the jail creaked open, revealing the second guard. He gave a curt nod to the paper-sorting guard before striding towards our cell and taking out his key.
Bucking fin- I cut myself off. No, no… Fuckingfinally.
I barely paid any mind to where they dragged us this time, simply placing one hoof in front of the other. I didn’t see the faces of other ponies, nor did I bother to look at what streets we walked across. I didn’t even pay attention to how long we walked for-all I knew was that we’d been kept in the cell for a long, long time, given the setting sun in the distance.
Then, after walking for some amount of time, we made it to the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters and climbed the steps to the front doors. After that, more walking, this time through stone hallways, until at last we made it to the throne room.
I felt as though my heart stopped when I saw the stern looks of the two pony sisters standing at the top of the steps leading to their throne room. “G-greetings, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna,” I managed to cough out before bowing. “It is a pleasure to see you.”
Octavia, meanwhile, continued to stand and stare without a word.
The Princess of the Night jumped down and pointed her hoof first at the guards, then at the door, prompting them to immediately trot out of the room before they shut the door.
Luna’s horn lit up. Being a unicorn, I could sense the enchantments she was placing; a lock on the door, a soundproof spell, and an anti-teleport field. Then, she turned to me. “Stand up. You may dispense with the formalities. You are aware of the reasons we sent for you.”
As I stood up with as much haste as I was able to muster, I heard a slight chuckle. I know that laugh… I turned to see Octavia biting her lip. What the hell are you laughing about?
Celestia’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Here in Canterlot we promote peace. Public disturbances are considered an offense, but assault is downright intolerable.”
“Those newspapers are lying!” shouted Octavia. “We did not hold him down and beat him senseless!”
Celestia began walking towards us, her hooves clacking on the hard floor. “I know that the Canterlot Times tends to… exaggerate. However, reports do state that you kicked a stallion in a public restaurant. Do you deny this?”
That gave her pause. “Well… No. I do not.”
“As you should not!” Luna stamped her hoof. “We have seen what you have done. Our punishment is nothing compared to the consequences you would have suffered in the past! I-”
“Indeed, that is true, Luna, but times have changed,” Celestia said, shooting her sister a glance before turning back to us.
“Well, at least hear us out,” Octavia grumbled.
Celestia closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. “Go ahead.” She sounded just barely annoyed.
“We ordered our food and it... wasn’t of quality.” Octavia’s voice was slower than usual, with long pauses every few words. I could tell she was giving some deep thought to every word that came out of her mouth. “We… I was already… already annoyed, and then the waiter… tried to kick us out.” She looked at me. “Right?”
I forced my mouth open and spoke. “Yeah… that’s what happened. We weren’t getting good service and the waiter was, kinda, well… he was attacking us for it. V-verbally, I mean,” I corrected.
Celestia sighed, a sound so quiet I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination. “Regardless, nothing he did was illegal. Unarmed assault, on the other hoof, most certainly is.
“Now, my little ponies, I believe in second chances. Normally, this would result in at least one day spent in the Canterlot Jail, but as this is the first offense for both of you, I am willing to compromise.”
Octy... you were right, I thought to myself. The princesses are lenient after all.
“So be it,” muttered Luna, almost too quiet to hear.
Well, one of them is, anyway.
“If you are willing to cooperate with us,” continued Celestia, “this will be easier for all of us.”
I nodded, but chose to stay silent. Good, good. I think we can get out of this without much trouble.
“If you two each complete one week of community service, then all charges will be dropped.”
I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, trying to avoid lashing out at them. They keep us in jail all day just to tell us that we need to do work for another week? And that’s what they consider a bucking compromise? Something about my rage-filled thoughts made me feel like Octy- a pleasant facade hiding my anger. These damned Alicorns... If I could just...
I could almost hear the gears turning in my head. A thought formed in my mind, murky at first, but it became clearer and clearer until becoming so much more.
It became an idea.
“Princess Celestia? I have another idea…” When I saw Octavia cock her head to the side in confusion, my breath caught in my throat, but I closed my eyes and swallowed, casting away the doubt. “If I could put on a show?
Celestia paused for a moment, before simply asking, “Pardon?”
Umm…“Well, I’m a musician. Maybe you’ve heard of me under my stage name DJ-PON3. Perhaps I could put on a concert. Play some music. And then…” And then what? Come on, Vinyl!
“A concert? Hmm…” Celestia rubbed one hoof against her chin. “I’m not so certain about that idea. How would a concert count toward community service?”
“Oh, well…” I looked to the side. “Maybe…”
Octavia spoke up. “All the money could go to charity. That would be community service, right?”
“Well…” Celestia mused. “I suppose that could work. Luna?”
The Princess of the Night stretched her wings out in an enthusiastic gesture. “This is a magnificent plan. It is service in not one way, but two, as it both pleases those who listen and provides funding for the impoverished! Proceed!”
A bare hint of a smile appeared on Celestia’s face. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.” She chuckled. “Very well. You may continue with your plan, Vinyl.”
“Hey!” Octavia’s face showed an almost imperceptible amount of indignation on it. “What about me? Can I do something like that?”
Celestia and Luna looked at each other and shared a brief, silent conversation. “We don’t believe having two concerts would be a good practice,” Celestia finally answered.
Octavia huffed.
“Wait!” I called out. “Can we do it together?”
That gave the Princesses pause. “...Yes,” Celestia answered after a moment’s hesitation. “I believe that would be acceptable.”
Octavia smiled. “Thank you, princess.”
I nodded. “Indeed.”
“Now, you two may go back to your homes and begin working,” Celestia replied. “Please give us the details within a week.”
I smiled and nodded, trying to give off an air of innocence. “Of course, Princesses. We’ll be happy to.” I turned around and trotted away, giving a quick glance behind me to see the Princesses’ facial expressions. They seemed calm, but I knew how much practice they had at hiding their emotions. Let’s hope they’re not too angry with us...
We got just as many stares walking back out of the castle as we did walking in. I saw a few ponies whispering to each other while others looked away the instant they recognized us, but most just… watched. There’s something kinda nice about this, actually, I thought. I’m getting just as much attention as I would at a gig, without being bothered by annoying fancolts.
“So, Vinyl,” Octavia whispered. “Seems that we’ve got a concert on our hooves. What songs are we to play? The Exodus?”
“Maybe, but I wanna write something new,” I answered. “I have an idea, but I’ll tell you about it when we get to your house.”
“All right.” Octavia sped from a walk to a good trot. “Well, I want to know, so let’s move it!”
“Oh, really?” I bent my legs, preparing to run. “You’re on.”
Unlike the last tense run to Octavia’s house, this turned out to be quite pleasant. It felt great to stretch my legs, and seeing Octavia in front of me shouting playful comments about how I needed to keep up made me grin. Not often did I get to enjoy the feeling of dashing through the streets.
The last run couldn’t have ended soon enough. This one couldn’t have ended too late.
Out of breath, Octavia pushed open the door to her house. “Come on. Let’s go to the living room.”
As I walked along the blue carpeted hallways, I couldn’t help but notice how large the place was. “The Canterlot Orchestra must pay really well if you can afford this place.”
“This place is really just to impress my parents.” Octavia marched past more than a few doors as we talked. “I have to be able to, or else they’ll keep breathing down my neck under the worry that I’ll become a ‘hooligan’ or something like that.” Her voice began to raise in irritation. “I mean, this place is meant for six ponies. Six! I don’t even use half these rooms, but unless I live in a place that shows how high-class I am, they’ll be all over my ass like flies!”
“...”
“Oh…” Octavia said after several seconds of silence. “Sorry about that, but… we’re here.” She turned into a doorway and trotted through, flicking a switch to turn on the light.
Octavia’s living room had one wall with musical scores framed and hung, and bookshelves on another. The third had an expensive-looking purple couch surrounded by several lush chairs. The fourth was unadorned save for the door and a few tiny photographs. “This is right around the center of the house,” Octavia explained as she plopped down on the left side of the couch. “The only rooms I ever use are the ones right by here. I can just come in this room and relax, because almost nopony knows it’s here.” She gestured to a spot on the couch next to her. “Come on, sit down.”
I walked forward, struggling to not let my excitement and glee show too clearly. She never lets anypony even know she has this haven of hers, and now she’s letting me inside? “So, what do you do when company is over?”
“I show them some rooms by the entrance. They look nice, but I never go there otherwise.” She sighed as she nuzzled my neck. “And in these few rooms, it’s always quiet. I can just come here and retreat from the world. I keep as much food stocked as I can, so if I ever need a break from life I can just rest in here without having to go buy groceries or anything like that. It’s lovely.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Now then,” Octavia stated, nuzzling me again. “What’s your song idea?”
I whispered it in her ear...
Or at least, I began to.
“Fuck me with Celestia’s horn, Vinyl!” Octavia cried after just a few words. “Are you insane? You can’t possibly believe something like that!”
“Well… no, I don’t.” I shrugged. “But still, don’t you think that maybe some of this stuff is, y’know, wrong?”
Octavia paused. “Well, I guess it is, but don’t you think there are perhaps better ways of going about it than this?”
“Of course there are,” I admitted, chuckling. “But at the very least, you gotta admit that this sounds like fun.”
Octavia’s face lit up in a smile. “It does. All right, I’ll try it. There’s just one thing to do first, though...” She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine.
During the painful and boring session in the jail cell, neither of us had wanted anything more than to share a long, slow kiss. As it turned out, the wait served to make it even better.
I ran my hooves through Octavia’s silky mane as she pinned me against her couch, fierce in her desire. I held back from trying to take control, letting her dominate the kiss. It only lasted a minute or two, but they were the best two minutes of my life.
At last, Octavia separated from me. “So…” she breathed out before stopping to gasp for air. “Now, let’s begin. So, first off, tell me a bit more about what you’re thinking.”
“All right.” I nodded.
The next few days passed by in a blur. We stopped paying attention to the sun and moon, and simply slept when we were tired and worked when we were awake. For that brief period, Octavia and I devoted all of our time to writing the song--getting the lines just right and making sure the instruments in the background meshed with the tone properly. We worked for hours on end with Octavia’s cello, enchanting and disenchanting and tuning it in uncountable ways, trying to get the sound just right for the song.
Writing the notes proved to be difficult. Compared to the lyrics, it seemed like almost nothing. Octavia and I tossed draft after draft-this part doesn’t sound quite right, there are too many words, it doesn’t rhyme properly, it doesn’t match up with the instruments… even so, we soldiered on, and eventually came up with a chorus that both of us found satisfaction in. Yet even after such an ordeal, the chorus ended up being the only thing we had to show for it. At the very least, writing the verses didn’t take quite as long. I found myself nervous about having to sing, something I hadn’t done in years, but Octavia managed to convince me that I’d do a better job than her.
The scribbling of notes on a music sheet, the jotting down of words and lyrics, the enchantments and alterations to Octavia’s cello to get it sounding just right… The occasional breaks where Octavia’s tongue explored my mouth...
By the time a week had passed, we were ready.
“So,” Celestia wondered aloud, “are you two ready?”
Octavia nodded. “We’ve finished all our preliminary work.” We stood in the throne room of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, lists and papers in hoof. Celestia and Luna stood side by side, watching us. “We only need two days’ notice to prepare our instruments and such.”
“Fair enough,” Celestia agreed. “Now, if Luna and I could see the song list?”
I trotted forward and hoofed her a sheet of paper with the words “Song Lineup” scrawled across the top. “Here.”
Luna craned her neck over Celestia’s withers to get a closer look. “Very well,” Celestia replied after sharing a quick glance with her sister. “We accept this song list. Please wait here for a few minutes while I work out a few details.” In a flash, she teleported away, leaving Octavia and me alone with Luna.
I paused for a moment. Hmm... how should I put this... After a few more quiet seconds, I managed to answer, “It’s very… unique.” Why is Luna asking us at all? She was never interested before.
“Oh? How so?”
“It’s… well…” Damn it. I can’t say too much or else she’ll figure out what we’re doing!
“It’s complicated,” Octavia interjected. “Neither of us have done anything like it before. We put a lot of work into it, though. Please understand if we’re a bit stingy on the details.”
The look of confusion on Luna’s face was enough to know she wasn’t satisfied. “Might I at least know what genre this song might be?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. I don’t know if this genre even has a name...” Octavia looked to the ceiling for a moment, deep in thought before looking back towards Luna. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
Luna nodded. “Regardless, I have high hopes for your concert and this song. I expect it to be top notch!”
Thankfully, before Luna managed to ask any other questions, Celestia teleported back in. “The Exterior Concert Hall in front of the castle has an open space three nights from now. Is that enough time for you to prepare?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Good. You two may go.”
The run back to Octavia’s home seemed even greater than the one a week prior. We moved faster, yet it felt even easier, as though all the ponies in our way walked in slow motion. I charged through the streets, dodging ponies and ducking around obstacles, grinning as we did so. It was over in just a few minutes, but those few minutes were wonderful.
It wasn’t until we rushed through the door that I noticed Octavia’s stone-faced expression. What… what’s she doing? “Octy?” I asked. “Are you all right?”
Octavia started to shake. A hoof went in front of her mouth, only to fall away a few seconds later she fell into a laughing fit. “I’m great!” she cried before toppling on to the ground, still laughing. “I’m just so excited!”
I sighed in relief. Good… she’s all good. “All right. Let me know when you’re ready to start getting ready.”
“Oh-okay…” she gasped, still laughing. “I will…”
As I walked into the central collection of rooms in Octavia’s house, she glanced in my direction, continuing to tune her cello. “Finish bringing all our stuff to the castle?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Was it hard? I can’t imagine myself carrying that many items a long distance.”
Smirking, I replied, “Not too hard. Unicorn magic made it easier.”
“So…” Octavia set her cello aside. “Tomorrow’s our performance. Nervous?”
“Of course I am.” Who knows what the Princesses are gonna do when they see this… “Are you?”
Octavia nodded. “A bit. Never written anything like this before, so I’m not certain it’s any good.”
I stared at her, my brain seeming to short out. “Th-that’s what you’re worried about?” I managed to ask after a few more seconds. “Not the way it talks about the Princesses?”
“Not really.” Stretching out, Octavia stood and trotted over to me. “We’ve already decided what we’re going to do. No use freaking out about it now.”
“S’pose you’re right.” I leaned in towards Octavia, sneaking in a peck on the lips.
“Wow,” I muttered. “There’s a lot of ponies here.”
Octavia, peeking out from backstage to see the crowd, nodded in agreement. “Far more than I might have expected.”
I shrugged. “Well, I know the Princesses were endorsing this thing, and all the money does go to charity.”
The two of us stood behind the far right end of a red velvet curtain, where we could look out onto the crowd without being spotted. Our instruments were laid out on the massive stone stage-Octavia’s cello, my booth. I didn’t bother to count the number of ponies there, but I found the turnout surprising. There must have been a thousand ponies, at the very least.
Octavia squinted, peering somewhere near the middle of the crowd. “Wait…” Her face brightened with the glow of the devilish smirk I grew to love so. “The Elements of Harmony are here.”
“Oh…” I grimaced before forcing myself to regain my composure. “We are so fucked.”
“I know. So...” Octavia took a quick step to the side, giving me the room to walk out into the public eye. “You ready?”
“Yep.”
Side by side, the two of us trotted out from behind the curtain.
Octavia gave a quick and friendly wave to the audience, which garnered her a light applause. As she did, I strode behind my booth, hearing my hooves clop along the stone. “Hey there, ponies of Equestria!” I began, in the vain hope that my DJ Pon3 persona hid the nervousness in my voice. At least nopony could see my eyes through my glasses. “Glad to see so many of you came out to hear our sick beats.” I paused, waiting for the first hooffull of notes from Octavia’s cello. “Awright, now let’s begin!”
At that, we played the opening notes to one of my most famous songs: The Exodus.
The theme of the song had been described by some ponies as a great adversity that is just barely overcome. If so, it fit the situation perfectly. My hooves almost began to shake a minute in, and I had to focus to avoid hitting the beats at the wrong time. Perhaps we shouldn’t have started with something so ominous…
During one of the song’s slower sections, I took a quick peek at Octavia. At least she seems to be enjoying herself. I could only see the side of her face, but her lips curled in a smile as she drew her bow back and forth across the cello, providing a fantastic backup to the droning beats I provided. Not all her notes had been included in her music sheet-some she came up with on the spot. I need to step up my game. That thought convinced me to return to my own work with a renewed passion. If she’s gonna improvise, so am I.
She lead the improvisation, leaving me to follow her notes, before I took control and threw my own spin on things. The back and forth we had, completely unknown to the audience, brought us to the slow and sad interlude near the song’s conclusion in what felt like seconds. Octavia’s bow slowed down, I pressed a mere few buttons, and we relished the relative ease that this section provided us. No chord clusters, no rapid staccato. I felt… calm.
Then it picked up again, in a burst of energy that filled me with confidence. The song’s tempo increased and the notes came out in a flurry. As the song finished, the rampant cheering convinced me to smile. All right. I think we can do this.
But…
Nervousness continued whispering in my ear.
The show seemed to be going off without a hitch. The crowd enjoyed the songs we played, Octavia didn’t miss a note, and both the Princesses and the Elements seemed to be having a good time.
The concert consisted of traditional cello pieces spiced up with a bass hit or two in the background. A few of my trademark songs made it in as well--I’d been proud of many of my old songs already, but Octavia’s cello providing backup made them all the better.
Even so, I felt nervous as the show progressed and we drew ever closer to the final song. To ALYD.
It’s not too late to go back, I found myself thinking as we began the penultimate piece. I could call for a break between songs, tell Octavia I can’t…
She’d be irritated, I knew that. I’d disappoint her and myself as well. But...
Would going ahead with our plan be worth it?
By the time I managed to shake my head clear of those thoughts, the final song already began to fade, along with the time I had to decide.
Should I call it off? Should I…
Time seemed to slow around me as my mind raced. Well… what was it I said to Octavia? I hunted through my memories, hoping to recall how I’d convinced her to join me in this endeavor in the first place.
“But at the very least, you gotta admit that this sounds like fun.”
I grinned. Right. I can’t stop now. I promised Octavia we’d go through with this.
And, of course… it’ll be fun.
“Awright, everypony!” I screamed into the audience. “Now it’s time for our final song!” Quieting, I continued with, “this is dedicated to Equestria’s wonderful princesses. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight.”
Octavia gave me a quick wink as the first few notes wafted through the air. The audience quieted from the applause as I added a few drumbeats with my booth. After the opening string completed itself a few times, I sucked in some air and did something I hadn’t done in public since I was a young foal. I began to sing.
The sun shall rise on each new day
Brought up by the princess of light
The moon rises whenever the princesses say
Brought up by the alicorn of night
I saw little action from the crowd. The glance I threw the princesses told me they were listening and didn’t seem to think much of it so far. Good, good...
They are your gods, they bring you hope
In this desolate land where there is none
In which any day might bring the end of your rope
But do they truly save anyone?
I could swear that Celestia cocked her head to the side after that stanza...
Your towns are attacked, your family slain,
By beasts, for reasons nobody can say.
Did your gods help you? Did they ease the pain?
No, they act as though it is any other day.
...Before blinking and looking up after the next one.
Your lazy gods spent their time on their great throne,
They may raise the sun, but what else might they do?.
Bring you love, bring you friendship? It is not unknown,
When your friends are dead, love’s of no help to you.
I could hear audible gasps. More eyes widened. A couple faces even appeared to be shocked. Just as we’d hoped.
Just like those whores would have when nothing is wrong
your gods ignore you no matter how great your plight.
And now we know that they’ve ruled us for far too long,
You must understand, now is the time to fight.
The princesses’ eyes were like saucers in the back of the audience. Twilight, sitting with the elements, seemed to be raising her wings in to cover a cowering cream-colored pony.
Then, the enchantments kicked in.
Octavia’s cello took on a new tone. Gone were the deep, resonant notes to be replaced by quick, electric ones. Her bow moved like lightning, creating a tune that sounded like her cello’s strings had turned to steel.
At that moment, hearing the harsh, steel noise of the music, I knew what to call the genre we created.
The alicorns let you die.
This is horrible.
The alicorns let you die.
The Alicorns let you die,
You must not listen to their lies,
They are suffering in disguise,
To save Equestria we rise
This is blasphemous.
Take them from their mighty throne,
No longer shall we be alone,
We will show them who we are,
For their rule has gone too far,
The alicorns let you die,
This is amazing!
The Princesses control us and it is not right
You worship your gods but they are dark and cruel
If you want your land back, and are ready to fight,
Then join us and help us take back the rule
The song continued on its new, faster pace. A few boos made themselves heard, but I could barely hear it over the insane noise Octavia and I generated.
Prove to the alicorns that we can be strong
Not be eaten by monsters and then left for dead
We must show the princesses that their rule is wrong
Now is the time that the sun shall glow red
Right then, all Tartarus broke loose. Some ponies continued to boo. Some stood up and shouted.
We kept playing.
The lyrics on pause, Octavia took the opportunity to launch into a solo that I couldn’t recall hearing when we practiced. Musical notes flew around us as she let loose on her cello.
Come on, come on… I thought to myself in excitement.
As though the wind itself heard my thoughts, a strong breeze began to blow, fanning Octavia’s mane out behind her as the instrumental continued.
The music slowing once more, I stared in awe at the state of chaos that we created. Ponies were stomping off of the stands, dragging crying foals away and giving us deathly glares. Ponies shouted, ponies booed. I glimpsed a furious blue pony with rainbow hair trying to fly towards us as Twilight held her in place with her magic.
Now is the time for us to attack
But once we begin there’s no going back
The sound of the song broke off. Ponies froze in place, confused.
One second.
Wait...
Two seconds.
Now!
Alicorns you let us die,
We will not listen to your lies
You are suffering in disguise
to save Equestria we Rise
Take you from your mighty throne
No longer shall we be alone
We will show you who we are
For your rule has gone too far
Alicorns you let us die
With a flourish from Octavia and a ragged beat from me, the song concluded.
The action in front of us halted; ponies stared at us in shock. After the bombastic performance we’d put on, the silent contrast was eerie. It felt as though we stood there for eternity.
From the back of the crowd echoed a single hoofbeat, repeating again and again. I looked up, only to find myself fighting to control my immense shock. There, with her aghast sister to her left, Luna clapped.
Another set of hooves began to thump along the ground, followed by a third, then a wave more. While some ponies left and others sat still, a good few applauded us on. Only a few dozen, from what I saw, but I couldn’t believe that even the smallest number of ponies had the willingness to support us in our endeavors.
Octavia and I looked towards each other. One hoof untied the knot holding her bow in place. I nodded. In one swift movement, my glasses found themselves in my hooves. A quick toss into the crowd and they were gone.
“See you around, Equestria!” I heard Octavia call as we ran backstage.
The two of us nearly collapsed after ducking behind the curtain. “F-fuck,” Octavia gasped. “That was great.”
“I know what... to call this kind of song,” I responded, panting.
The telltale flapping of a pony’s wings emanated from above. Who the hell is that? I turned to see a black pony with both a horn and wings hovering in the air. “Greetings,” came the voice of the Princess of the Night as she landed beside me. “Might the two of you answer a few questions for me?”
“Uh…” Seeing Octavia’s nod, I continued. “Y-yeah, sure.” C’mon, please don’t throw us in jail again...
“First…” Luna’s face changed in a way I thought I would never see- she smiled. “I must congratulate you.”
“Wait, what?” Octavia jolted out of her exhausted stupor.
“Your overall fierceness was… surprising,” Luna admitted. “Regardless, I have lived for more than a thousand years, and I have seen many bids for the crown. I am more than capable of telling when one truly means to take control and when one is simply frustrated-or, in your case, just wants to have some fun being a cute little anarchist. Even so, your bravery is impressive. Celestia and I have been called out on our mistakes before, but never in such a grandiose fashion.” She stopped to smirk.“ But in the future... if either of you have issue with our policies, both of us would prefer it if you send us a letter, or discuss it with us in private.
“But, I have to admit, your instrumentation was divine. Your work has the potential to create an entire new movement in music.” Her eyes sparkled in wonder. “Just imagine using similar instruments to describe a historical battle, or a battle between the forces of light and the power of Sombra and his darkness.” She chuckled.
“Now, for my question… Is this song an, erm, ‘single’, or are you planning others like it?”
Octavia looked at me, eyes sparkling.“Are we?”
“Sure. We are.”
“Wonderful. And, Octavia, last we met you noted that you had yet to create a title for your new type of music. Have you decided on one now?”
“I haven’t, but… Vinyl?”
I nodded. “Metal.”
I awoke in Octavia’s bed. I glanced around, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. Stretching, I put on my spare shades and trotted out into the hall.
Octavia sat at the table in the kitchen, reading a newspaper. “Morning, Vinyl. We’re in the news.”
I blinked. “Really? What does it say about us?”
“Not much. Ponies found it shocking how many cheers we got, Luna clapped… We’ve got a lot of protesters, though. Our image is going to be divisive, I can tell.”
“You know,” I began, “we can tell ponies we didn’t really mean what the song said.”
“We could.” Octavia smirked. “But where’s the fun in that? I think I enjoy how Equestria thinks we’re insane.”
I chuckled. “So, are we gonna start writing our new song today?”
She nodded. “I’m thinking that the first song should be about how changelings consume love. Still trying to think of a title, though.”
“Well, while you’re thinking about it…” I wrapped my forehooves around Octavia, dragging her in for a kiss.
As her lips met mine, I remembered…
To me, what truly matters is Octavia.
Well… and a bit of anarchy.
Author's Note
Vinyl’s Dress based on https://derpicdn.net/img/2012/7/20/50265/full.png.
Octavia’s based on http://img12.deviantart.net/ca7e/i/2015/129/7/1/octavia_in_dress_by_cuteskitty-d57d0hu.png
Well. I have made this, after a pretty goddamn long period of inactivity and saying I'm not doing anything anymore. I am really indecisive.
For all of you who care even the slightest bit about this story(read:none of you), this was a fun one to write. It's the longest thing I've ever written, it took quite some time to put together, and there are so many discarded ideas I could probably write an entire second story of roughly 2/3 this length using those alone. I'm not certain how pleased I am with the final result, but, well... guess it'll have to do.
Regardless, thank you for reading. All I ask in return is for a comment-as long as it's relevant to the story in some fashion, I appreciate what you have to say-positive or negative.
Dedicated to everything that made this story exist:
eLLen-the reason I still bother. A prereader.
Dudeler-the reason I started caring. A prereader.
Blaffer-the reason it says kicked instead of punched. A prereader.
Joakim Broden-the reason I realized heavy metal isn't trash after all.
Powerwolf-the initial inspiration for the song, and also for the story. Came up with the idea after binging on their music.
Van Canto-for reminding me that whether your mission is to fight and be free again, or just to write a quick piece of fanfiction, that you still have the right to be yourself.
