It was another lousy evening in that lousy city. Always rained in Celestia-forsaken Manehattan. And when it didn’t rain, it snowed. This evening, it seemed, it was both raining and snowing. Vinyl Scratch sloshed through the muddy street, wet, unpleasant snow striking her nose and cheeks. The fedora was no refuge from the snow, and she hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella. The forecast had said it would be sunny, with a chance of snow. Yeah, right.
Vinyl took out a cigarette. Levitating the lighter, she tried to flick it alit, but there was presumably, no gasoline. Vinyl sighed and threw the cigarette away. It disappeared in the puddle of melting snow. At least, if it were decently cold, there would be a reason for the snow. But it was Celestia-damn October, not January! Vinyl took a sharp right, turning past the old three-storey house made of red brick and worn-out wood. The city centre with its newly-built skyscrapers was long past her, and she had entered the feathered neighbourhood.
Vinyl liked the day, sure, if only because she got to get to the office, tell Jim to make her some coffee, and browse through the files. Vinyl was a lazy private detective: she valued paperwork more than actually following the leads. She also liked the day because it gave her the pleasure of losing herself in the sounds of the street: the chant of street vendors, the stomping of hooves, the jazz resonating all the way from coffee shops - and the smells of freshly-baked apple and licorice.
And yet, Vinyl also liked the night, and liked it, maybe, even more than the day. She loved the silence that enveloped the city that never slept, loved the sudden respite after the loud day. She loved the solitude the night offered her. She loved to walk up the streets at night and breathe in the fresh air. But not in violent mudrainsnow.
“Got a smoke?”
Vinyl turned sharply, only to see three jacket-wearing griffins walk up to her, stopping at a moderate distance. Good, she thought. Keep your distance, you feathered scum. “No, not for the likes of you. If I had some deep-fried hay, I’d share some, though.” She smirked confidently.
The griffin on the right growled and took out a switchblade. “You made a mistake going through a griffin neighbourhood, pony.” The griffins began looming in on the unicorn.
“Oh no. I walk through this neighbourhood every evening, and you have just made the mistake of meeting me here.” Without flinching, Vinyl took out a gun. “Let’s see if you’ll talk so bold to my point forty-four,” she spat through her teeth, pointing her revolver at one of the griffins. “Way I see it, if I kill a couple feathered beaks in self-defence, I’ll only be doing a service to Equestria.”
The griffins froze, not even taking a step back. “Someday,” the one on the left said bitterly, “our race will take its place in this country, and we will have all the rights that you have…” He spat on the ground. “And more!”
“Yeah, right.” Vinyl grinned. “And faggots will get to marry. Sure, whatever floats your boat.” She waved the barrel in the air. “Now shoo before I make a swiss cheese out of you.”
The griffins paused, looking attentively at the barrel of the gun, then walked away slowly, not breaking eye contact. Vinyl smirked. So scared they won’t even run. Too scared I’ll just shoot them in the back.
“Damn feathered.” Vinyl put her gun away telekinetically just as the griffins had disappeared. “Forget what their place is.” She watched the empty street for a while. Yes. Everything had a place, and it was fair and wise to know your place in the stance of things. Everything was created by nature it was it was intended, and… She thought back to home and gulped. Everything… except…
Her hooves sloshed through the wet snow as she made her way up the muddy street.
Home.
***
“Octavia, I’m home!” Vinyl called out, tossing the keys onto the small rectangular table, where several semi-torn magazines were located, side by side with a semi-eaten donut. She proceeded into the living room, taking off her hat and throwing it onto the rack. She flicked on the lights. The spacious room greeted her with a sofa, onto which Vinyl seated her exhausted body, and reached with her telekinesis for the icebox in the corner. Levitating a cold bottle of beer, she flinched a little, remembering the unpleasant snow on the outside. With a sigh, she placed the bottle on the table to let it warm up a little. Then, finally, her gaze fell onto the aquarium by the far wall.
She smiled and waved at the aquarium. “Hi, Octy.”
“Blorb,” replied the creature within the aquarium. The creature, of course, was a rare breed of octopus - Octavioctopus Malus, the evil genius of octopi. Its head was a pony’s, with lavender eyes and a long charcoal mane. Down from the neck, she - for it was definitely a she - was just a normal octopus, with the exception that she was all grey. “Blorb blorb?” the creature asked.
“Fine, as usual,” Vinyl replied with a smile. “Another boring day in the office.” She yawned and flicked on the TV. The news preached something about zebras setting nuclear weaponry near Fillydelphia. “Those damn ziggas,” Vinyl swore and turned off the TV. “Those peasant bastards who cannot accept the free enterprise.”
“Blorb,” Octavia agreed disapprovingly. She looked at Vinyl with a strange look. “Blorb?”
“What gives you the impression that something happened?” Vinyl furrowed her brow, trying to feign ignorance. “Nothing happened.”
“Blorb!” Octavia insisted, squinting her eyes. “Blorb blorb. Blorb! Blorb?”
Vinyl sighed, rubbing her eyelids with a hoof. “Yes, okay, I know you can read me like a book. I got into… an encounter.”
“Blorb?” Octavia asked worriedly. “Blorb blorb! Blorb?”
Vinyl winced. “No, I’m not hurt. I pack iron, remember? Just a few griffins, nothing dangerous.”
“Blorb.” Octavia nodded resolutely and jumped up and down in her aquarium.
“Do you want a bite?” Vinyl asked, getting up and stretching her weary limbs. “I’ll make myself a sandwich.”
“Blorb.” Octavia shook her head. “Blorb blorb.”
Vinyl smirked. “Always watching the figure, eh?” With that, she chuckled and directed her hooves into the kitchen. The small, cramped space somehow always calmed her. The serenity of looking in the kitchen window, outside, especially in winter, window slightly open, a cigarette in her mouth, was unspeakably pleasant. Yet, now the window was shut tight against the snowrain that was brewing outside. Speaking of a cigarette…
Vinyl lit up the match against the kitchen counter and lit up the tobacco. Humming a jazzy tune, she opened the fridge and fished out some cheese and butter out of it. A loaf of bread from the bread-holder. Good. Now to cut it. So easy with magic. I wonder how poor earth ponies do that…
The two slices made their way to the toaster, while Vinyl cut the cheese. In a minute, the bread popped out, and Vinyl placed the butter and the cheese on top of each of the slices. With two sandwiches in her telekinetic grip, she walked back into the living room. Octavia followed the sandwiches with her eyes hungrily. Vinyl laughed. “Oh, Octy~ I just knew you would want one!” With that, she placed one of the sandwiches on the edge of the aquarium. The Octavioctopus grabbed the bread greedily and began to eat.
And, as always, as Vinyl looked at the octopus, she was both struck by the cuteness and aroused by how smooth her body was, how slender the tentacles, those tentacles that could do so much… When Octavia finished her bread, Vinyl took her out gently.
“You are the perfect form…” she whispered, holding Octavia’s slimy, sexy body in her hooves. She stroked Octavia’s mane, looking into the abyss of the octopus’s lavender eyes. She saw understanding. She saw arousal. She saw love. “Oh…” Vinyl moaned. “If only I could be an octopus just like you…” Quietly, she brought her lips to Octavia’s forehead and pecked her.
“Blorb!” Octavia said, content, smiling. “Blorb blooorb?”
“I…” Vinyl blushed. “I really cannot!” She put Octavia back into the aquarium. “What is wrong with me?!” She slapped herself on both cheeks, respectively, trying to come to her senses. “That’s… That’s worse than being a lesbian!”
“Blorb,” Octavia said disapprovingly and jumped up and down in the water. “Blorb!”
“I know you love me!” Vinyl shouted, her eyes teary, her heart leaping to her throat. “I love you too, Octy, I really, really love you!” She closed the distance between herself and the aquarium and grabbed the octopus again. “You are my darling, my one and only love…” She started placing kisses all over the octopus’s skin. “You are the perfect partner, the true, the, the…”
“Blooorb.” Octavia fluttered her eyelashes. She licked her lips sultrily. “Blorb?”
Vinyl felt her heart rate increase. She breathed, in, out, in, out. Finally, she closed her eyes and whispered, “But Octavia… Remember what happened the last time we-?”
“Blorb.” Octavia waved one of her tentacles at the pony and winked. “Blorb blorb… blorb.” One of the tentacles enveloped round Vinyl’s horn. “Blooorb?”
“Ah.” Vinyl panted as four of the tentacles embraced her, while the one round her horn started jerking motions. “Ah, Octy, you know all the sensitive- ah!”
Octavia tossed her lips upon Vinyl’s and enveloped her in a deep, thoughtful kiss. Her octopus tongue was doing the usual motions that Vinyl both loved and hated so much. “Blorb,” Octavia claimed upon breaking the kiss. “Blooorb.”
“Yes.” Vinyl nodded, flushed, intoxicated. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
And then they had sex, and all was good and right in the world.
***
What was drawing her so much towards the sexy octopus? Vinyl lit up a cigarette, inhaling the smoke blissfully. Having placed the sleeping Octavioctopus back in the aquarium, she once again felt utterly crushed by guilt. It was plainly wrong, to live like that. It was unnatural. It was a vice.
Why is it a vice? Is it because the society will not accept us? Vinyl rolled over in her large double bed. Is it a vice because we will never be able to get married? A pony and an octopus… Why cannot I feel at ease with falling in love with her? Why cannot I…
Vinyl smacked herself on the cheek. I’m so disgusting! I… I have an image to maintain! I am a normal pony! I should be seeking stallions to ride me. I should be going to bars and jazz clubs. I should not be rushing home every day just to see her, to feel her slimy lips against mine. And she likes it too. But it’s so, so wrong. She isn’t meant to be kept in an aquarium. She is a free sea animal. And I am meant to stay here in the city, solving crimes. We just cannot… We just cannot work out.
Vinyl rose, dragging on the cigarette nervously. The smoke was slowly collecting by the ceiling, filling the small bedroom with grey clouds. Okay, so even if we keep on doing that. What’s next? She won’t survive long in an aquarium. She needs the sea. And even if… Ponies live to a hundred years. Octavioctopuses live up to thirty. And she’s about twenty already… What will I do when she… when she…
That’s because I’m going against nature! Vinyl gritted her teeth. That’s what I’m doing wrong! I shouldn’t have started a relationship with an octopus! I shouldn’t have become attached to her so! I shouldn’t have brought her home in the first place. I should have let her go back to the sea.
And because of all this, I just cannot feel at ease. I feel guilty, every time I think about her. I feel dirty. I feel… slimy. It presses down on my work. On my social life. How many friends do I have? None. Jim is the only pony who says more than “hello” to me. And what about Octavia? She is living without other octopi by her side. That can’t be healthy either.
No, this should come to an end. I will manage. She will manage. But. I am doing this for her, in a manner. Yes. I am doing this for her sake. She will be free. She will… She will live with other octopi, and… and love other octopi, as nature intended. And I… I will… No.
Vinyl chuckled grimly and put out the cigarette. No. I will do it. For her. For us. But I know I will never move on.
***
The sun had not yet painted the sky with the early red of the sun, and the clouds were blocking out the stars. Vinyl carried herself primly, emotionlessly, towards the destination. The muddy snow beneath her hooves had turned into muddy water, but she couldn’t care less. She walked, step by step, seeing only the sea, the great mistress.
“Blorb?” Octavia chirped as Vinyl’s levitation faltered for a moment and the aquarium did a hop-skip-and-jump. The octopus smiled, feeling the warm presence of her host and lover. “Blorb blorb!”
“I’m sorry, Octavia,” Vinyl replied gently. A little too gently. She sighed, trying to get her thoughts straight. But she simply could not. Every “blorb” sounded so much like “Vinyl, don’t do this!”
Finally, the sea. It had taken her a good four hundred steps, but here it was, the pierce, and the neverending bluish green of the waves. “Octavia,” Vinyl said very seriously, setting the aquarium aside. “Please watch the sunrise with me?”
“Blorb,” Octavia replied, nodding eagerly. “Blorb blorb. Blooorb.”
“Yes.” Vinyl gulped down unwanted tears. “Yes. I love you too.” She patted the spot next to her and levitated the aquarium down. “Do you like the sea, Octavia?” she asked softly.
“Bloooorb,” Octavia said dreamily and sighed. She pointed with one of her tentacles. “Blorb blorb.”
“You used to live there, right?” Vinyl gulped, feeling a lump in her throat. The sun finally peeked through the thick cloud curtain, lighting up the dirty city and the slippery pierce, and the aquarium, and Octavia’s shining, lavender eyes.
“Blorb.” Octavia sighed again. “Blorb blorb.” She pointed a tentacle at the unicorn. “Blorb.”
“Yes… That’s the problem, Octavia,” Vinyl said seriously. “I know you love living with me, and… doing stuff with me. And to me,” she admitted wearily. “But.” She raised a hoof, gulping. “But it’s not how it should be. You do realise it, right? You’re an octopus, and you should live in the sea.”
“Blorb.” Octavia crossed two of her tentacles.
“That’s nature, Octavia!” Vinyl exclaimed in agitation, tapping her front hoof against the wet wood of the pierce. “Can’t you see, Octavia? We cannot have sex. We cannot even kiss. We aren’t meant to be together. I’m a pony, and you are an octopus.”
“Blorb! Blorb!” Octavia exclaimed, huffing and looking to the side. “Blorb!”
“No, it’s not nonsense,” Vinyl pressed on. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I understand that… Even if we both feel good, it’s not… It’s just not right!” With that, she levitated the aquarium and let it linger above the salty waves. “I’m sorry, Octavia, but that’s the only way. I know someday you will forgive me.” To herself, she said, But I will never forgive myself. She quickly turned the aquarium around. Octavia felt with a splash into the sea water. “Blorb?!” she demanded. “Blorb!”
“Go!” Vinyl shouted, now crying openly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Go! You are free! Go live with your own kind!” She staggered, almost falling into the water herself.
“Blorb!!” Octavia yelled, riding the waves, trying to jump out, be with her lover again. “Blorb blorb blorb! Bloorb! BLORB!”
“No!” Vinyl felt spasms of hysterics hit her body. “No!” She collapsed on her knees. “Can’t you see we aren’t meant to be? We cannot be together, Octavia! I am a pony, and you are an octopus! GO!”
“Blorb!” Octavia protested, trying to reach for the unicorn with her tentacles. “Bloooooooorb!”
As soon as Vinyl could get up, shaking, she cast one last glance, a broken, desperate glance at the waves that were now taking her love, her Octy, her one and true love away. And then she turned, and she ran.
She ran and ran, feeling the mud embrace her hooves, trying to stop her, trying to make her turn back. She smashed the aquarium against a corner of a newly-erected building. Tears covered her eyes, and tears wouldn’t stop. She ran, and ran, and still heard the sound of the rushing waves breaking against the wood of the pierce. She still heard the painful “blorb” which was breaking her heart, tearing it into a million tiny pieces.
Finally, she stopped. She took a deep, painful breath and looked around. The early sky tinted the world a very smooth lavender. Lavender houses were slowly blinking with lit windows. Lavender ponies began to stroll to and fro on the muddy streets. Lavender apples appeared on lavender counters, and lavender vendors prepared to collect.
The city was slowly returning to its daily routine.
Moscow, 2015
