Idle hand does the Discord's work.

Chapters

The robotic hand and the Unicorn
The (mis) Adventures of Thunderlane
Bass Instincts
"Drop It!"

The robotic hand and the Unicorn

Idle Hand Does the Discord’s work.

The Robotic Hand and the Unicorn

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press and all of the people tuning in across this great nation: On behalf of the Wechee Demall, Inc. I welcome you to the unveiling of the most revolutionary advance in the technology of prosthetics since man first replaced a missing leg with a hunk of wood. I’m David Demall and let’s make history!”

The speaker, an older man with salt and pepper hair, takes a few steps, beckoning the press and camera to follow. His long white lab coat moves with him, revealing the smartly tailored Armani suit being worn beneath it. Stopping in front of a large viewing window, David continues.

“Now before I reveal our invention I would like to thank our investors, for without their funding this would never have been possible. I would also like to dedicate this device to our men and women in the armed forces. This,” he pauses and points directly at the camera, “is for you!”

A smattering of applause from the members of press echoes though the laboratory room. It is soon joined by a louder applause, piped through the speakers by the Wechee Demall marketing department. Beckoning the camera and the reporters forward, he gestures to two individuals on the other side of the glass. One is a woman in her mid 20’s, her long blonde hair held in a ponytail. Perched on her nose are thick horn-rimmed glasses, their color accentuating the blush and lipstick she’s wearing. Like David, she is dressed in an open white lab coat; however, instead of the suit she wears an impractically short mini-skirt and an almost illegally low cut blouse. She adjusts her glasses and smiles at the audience. The second is a grizzled gentleman in his mid 30’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. His trimmed beard adds to his rugged appearance. More obvious is the lack of a right hand, a metal cuff where his wrist should be.

“Let me introduce Vanessa, one of our lead engineers,” on queue the woman waves.

“She has been working tirelessly to perfect our new invention. The gentleman beside her is Sargent Major Zarken, a retired marine. He lost his right hand to an IED three years back while gallantly serving our nation abroad. He has generously offered to be the first subject to have the new prosthesis attached to him. I commend his courage.” David claps as more piped in applause plays across the speakers.

“Finally,” as he places his hands near his heart on his chest, David continues, “it is my pleasure to introduce the revolutionary iHand X42 prosthetic hand!” Sweeping his right hand out, David points towards the window. Vanessa walks to the glass window and with a Vanna White wave, reveals a dark grey hand.

“The iHand X42 has full neural control and haptic feedback. This means that it is both controlled by the users own brain and allows them to actually feel what they touch. Something no other modern prosthetic has.”

Pointing at the metal cuff on Mr. Zarken’s wrist David continues, “The device is designed to be plugged into a fitted receptacle on an amputee’s forearm, like what we see on Mr. Zarkin here. The iHand is an artificial hand that allows for fine motor control as well as a sense of touch, all of which is driven by the nerves that once controlled his missing hand.”

Vanessa lowers the hand as David turns towards a projection screen, which displays the fine details of the features the iHand contains. “We have an onboard microprocessor that allows for precise interpretation of the neural responses for better control; while each finger contains three motors,” David holds up his own hand and bends each finger joint one at a time, “allowing for full movement that mimics that of the original limb. The iHand will actually learn how each person uses it and adjust accordingly. It learns like our brain does and provides superior performance because of it.”

The slide changes to an overview of the electronics. “Thinking of the environment we have outfitted it with low consumption servos, a high capacity battery, and inductive charging capability. The iHand prototype has an extended battery life that allows for over 24 hours of continuous use or over a week in active standby mode.”

The rough schematic turns a brilliant shade of green as trees grow from the bottom right and left corners of the slide. “This has allowed our hand to be the first replacement limb rated an A+++ in green technology.”

The screen changes yet again, focusing on the iHand in general. David removes a laser pointer from a pocket in his jacket and uses it to indicate a portion of the iHand. “The hand is also fitted with a powered self-adjusting pressure cuff, designed to allow for a snug attachment to any size of appendage. From the smallest child caught in an unfortunate accident to our noble soldiers who risk life and limb to preserve our freedom, the iHand provides the fit they need! This new method of attachment provides the utmost comfort for the amputee and removes the requirement for constant readjusting or replacement of the prosthetic.”

Moving the pointer, David draws a circle around a cross-section of fabric shown on the top right of the screen. “A layer of interwoven carbon nanotubes acts as a ‘skin’ encasing all of the electronics, which allows for maximum durability with minimum weight. Also, for the peace of mind of the user, the skin can be coated with a 100% green coloring dye to match any skin tone. Even though the iHand is far lighter than an actual human hand, we can add offsetting weight to match the missing limb.”

David points at the main camera again. “We’ll do anything in our power to make the iHand fit like a glove.” He winks at the camera as he finishes.

The screen flips to the Wechee Demall Inc. logo, “Alone each of the features is a step forward in the science of artificial limbs, but combined they create a giant leap in the field; generating the closest thing mankind has developed to the robotic limbs of science fiction as featured in the Star Wars movies.” David opens his arms wide, “We have turned science fiction into science fact!”

Applause both real and artificial punctuates his speech. “Now, I bet everyone’s eager to see the iHand X42 in action, right?” Most of the reporters nod in assent. Turning back towards the window, David motions for the press to come closer to see it.

“Vanessa should have finished preparing the volunteer and we can now witness the iHand X42 in its full glor-”

David looks up to see a worried Mr. Zarken and a confused Vanessa as she frantically searches around the room for something. Looking up, she motions for David to come to the door. Moving like a man possessed, David opens the door and sticks his head in. Vanessa’s voice doesn’t reach the audience as she shrugs in disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOST IT!?” David’s face gets redder and redder the more she shrugs. “How can you lose something in a sealed room? This is corporate espionage! Nothing less! I’ll sue your entire modeling agency for this! Now go get one of the real engineers in here you bimb-”

Mr. Demall stops himself mid-sentence and looks back at the press, their cameras still rolling and some of them frantically scribbling notes about his outburst. Rushing to the reporters, David throws his hands in front of the nearest camera lens while motioning for security to escort the media out, “That’s it! This interview is over!” To finalize his point, David unceremoniously rips off his wireless mic and throws it at the window in frustration.

The sun is shining, the clouds are few and far between, and a mint-colored unicorn mare named Lyra Heartstrings is taking a walk through the outskirts of Ponyville, pondering her next musical masterpiece and daydreaming about her favorite subjects.

“So glad the practice was this morning. Octavia is far more personable after she has a gallon or two of coffee.” Checking to make sure nopony is around, she begins to stand on her back legs. Taking a few tentative steps, she smiles, before falling back onto all fours. “Still need more practice.”

A green aura undoes a candy shaped clasp on her saddlebags and removes a notebook with the words humanoid observation log written on the cover and a pony doll from within it. The book levitates in front of Lyra’s face and the doll is placed in front of her front hooves. Opening the book, she looks over the many pages of diagrams, settling on a series of pages depicting the bipedal races of the land. Each page displays images in great detail of the entire walk cycle (or waddle cycle as the case may be for Ponyville’s resident dragon) of Minotaurs, Diamond Dogs, Dragons, and the mythical hairless ape.

Sitting on her flank, she picks up the doll with her magic and begins to use it to mimic the movement in her notes. When she is satisfied with the motions, she tries to imitate the walk herself, falling every time after a few steps. Undaunted, she continues to study the pages. Periodically she tries to walk on her hind legs, but fails each time.

So caught up in her own internal musings and practice, Lyra never notices the universe unceremoniously rip open over her head, breaching realities; that is, until an item from said void falls squarely onto her head, the sudden impact dropping her like a sack of bricks.

“What the buck just hit me?!”

Getting back on her hooves, the furious mare looks around for whomever or whatever hit her. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her forehoof, she checks the sky first, but doesn’t see the local prankster pegasus Rainbow Dash or the flying disaster that is Derpy Hooves anywhere around, so she instead inspects the grass. She places her right forehoof back onto the ground, but it doesn’t actually hit the ground. Instead, it seems to slide into something.

“Oh for the love of Celestia! First I get hit on the head with something, now I put my hoof into something weird, what next, Discord shows up again?” she grumbles, just to voice her frustrations to the wind and any humans hiding nearby.

Lifting her hoof up, she notices that whatever it’s in isn’t coming off. She tries to scrape it off on the ground, but feels… the grass? Raising her hoof to eye-level she sees what has attached itself. Her eyes are greeted by a dark clenched claw. The device is secured just tight enough to stay on her hoof without falling off. Her eyes grow as large as dinner plates as the pages of her log fly by, displaying pictures and diagrams she had made of such an item. She lets out a gasp and squee that would make Pinkie Pie proud. Lyra has just found the iHand.

“Is this… is this a hand?!... A hand on MY hoof? Can it really be?”

Curiosity taking hold, she begins to brush it tentatively against her other foreleg. She gets a shock when she actually feels her own coat through the hand. Her smile widens. Putting her new hand to her chin, she begins thinking of what it could be and how it might work. Before she even knows it, the iHand has opened and is now stroking her chin as a dragon or griffon would do when deep in thought. Her eyes grow larger and her grin wider, threatening to split her head in two.

“The... the fingers, they work!”

Thinking about moving the fingers herself, she sees them slowly opening and closing in response. The wrist motors respond smoothly, allowing the hand to work as intended; the microprocessor translating the received instructions into movements just as designed. Meanwhile, the unicorn using the appendage attributes all this to magic.

Joyous laughter erupts from her mouth, slowly it turns slightly manic. “WHO”S THE CRAZY MARE NOW!!!” she screams to the heavens as she gets to work, putting her hand through its paces.

Hours had passed, and she’d grabbed things, lifted things, touched things, and thrown things; all with her hand and not magic. It was such a novel experience. She was in love with her new hand, maybe even more so than with Bon Bon (not that she’d admit it to the latter’s face). Finally feeling like it was her hand, the unicorn used her magic to levitate a golden lyre from her saddlebags. It was time for her to live the dream! She was finally going to play the lyre with hands (or a hand in this case) instead of magic! Taking up her standard sitting pose, her magic shimmered around the instrument as she held it in place. With a smile that would make Pinkie envious, she begins to play:

“SKREEEEEEEE….BRNNNNNNNN…. PH'NGLUI…..MGLW'NAFH…..CTHULHU R'LYEH….WGAH'NAGL….FHTAGN!!!”

The unholy racket that played across the strings tore the mare from her dreams.

“That isn’t how it’s supposed to sound. It’s supposed to sound beautiful. The hand was supposed to make it so much better! It’s supposed to make me better! What went wrong?!”

The puzzled mare begins to think hard, reviewing everything she had just done; the hand once again strokes her chin. The lyre had been at the usual height and in the usual position. She had moved the hand to pluck the strings as she would have used her magic. Why, then, had it sounded like somepony skinning a diamond dog? Sinking deeper into her own mind, Lyra recalls the first music lessons she received after attaining her cutie mark.

“Fillies and colts, please stop talking and focus! Learning to play a string instrument is a challenging, yet rewarding endeavor. Now, take out your instruments.”

The resonating voice of the older unicorn stallion running the class silences the precocious children in little time. The class, composed of three unicorns, four pegasi and a single earth pony, remove their instruments from the various carrying cases they use. Lyra and two of the pegasi remove small lyres from their saddlebags, the former with magic and the latter with deft movements of their wings. The remaining foals remove various violas and violins from cases carried with magic or cradled by a wing. The earth pony, a filly with a grey coat, surprises even the teacher when she easily removes a foal-sized cello from a rolling case, setting it up in front of herself.

The memory of a filly is a tricky thing, and Lyra’s memory skips forward to the instructor teaching the three lyrists how to play their chosen instrument.

“Now, you three will play the lyre in one of two different ways.” He gestures to Lyra, “Unicorns can use their magic to pluck the strings, either cradling the instrument in their forehooves or levitating it. This method takes very fine control of magic to make each string move when and how you want it. Pegasi on the other hoof,” gesturing to the pegasi, “use their wings to pluck the strings. While this method does not require the same level of control as the unicorn method, it requires a high amount of skill in other ways. For those with wings, posture and location of the instrument is critical. One must be able to comfortably move one’s wing across the strings. Too far away and the appendage will over-extend itself, losing fine control. Too close and the movements are constricted.”

Snapping back to the current day, the words of the stallion echo through her head. She had been holding the lyre like she did when playing with magic. Now that she had a hand, she had to play it like a pegasus! Recalling the lessons once again, the enthused mare adjusts her positioning and with moderate trepidation begins to play simple children’s warm-up notes. The sounds are better now, not up to her normal standards, but much more passable and far less of an abomination. The feeling of actually plucking each string is intoxicating: So much so, in fact, that the simple warm-ups are repeated for over two hours. Finally satisfied, she sighs.

“That was great. I haven’t had that much fun when playing for ages. I can’t wait till Bon Bon hears me play and sees my hand. Shit, BON BON!”

Looking up at the sun, Lyra notices that it is early evening now, most of the afternoon having been lost in her own little world. Gasping in surprise, the mint mare hastily stores her lyre, notes, and doll. As if Nightmare Moon were at her heels, Lyra gallops back towards town.

“Shit shit shit, I had a date this evening with Bon Bon! We planned to meet after work! I hope I’m not late. I don’t like it when Bonny’s mad at me.”

An out-of-breath Lyra reaches the center of town and, checking the sundial, realizes she still has almost an hour before the candy store’s closing time. Sitting down on a nearby bench in her unconventional manner, she takes the chance to rest and inspect her hand to make sure she didn’t damage it in her mad dash. Making sure nopony is watching, she moves each finger individually and then the wrist. Her fears of damage to her new appendage; assuaged, she decides to spring the surprise on Bon Bon before the store closes.

Sneaking in through the employee entrance at the back, Lyra stalks her prey. Masking her hooffalls with magic she prepares to pounce.

“Hello Lyra, you’re early. Also don’t think about tackling and hugging me from behind. I’m still working and need to fill this order for Pinkie Pie.”

Lyra deflates at the sudden words.

“How’d you know I was there, Bonny? I didn’t make any noise at all.”

“Well my dear, call it mare’s intuition,” replies Bon Bon, silently adding to herself, or the fact that you try the same thing every night. Clearing her throat she continues, “Now what brings you here half an hour early?”

“I FOUND A HAND!” Lyra exclaims, standing on her hind legs and throwing her forehooves into the air.

Only half listening, Bon Bon responds, “That’s nice, dear.” As she goes back to her work, tuning out her hyper partner.

“NO, I DIDN’T JUST FIND A HAND….I HAVE A HAND!!”

The increased volume breaks Bon Bon’s focus on her work. “Sweet Celestia, Lyra, calm down.” The confectioner places her hooves on the counter and lets out an exasperated sigh. “How many times have I told you that you won’t ever have a hand? Remember the incident with the shape-shifting spell you borrowed from Twilight?”

Both of them visibly shudder at the thought of the spell’s results. “Now why don’t you wait in the back while I finish up here. I really need to focus on these special candies. Once I finish we’ll take this order to Pinkie and start our date.” Under her breath she continues, “And maybe you’ll grow out of your human imitation hobby.”

“Oh?” Lyra slinks closer to her prey. “If I didn’t have a hand,” a sly smile plays across her face; she had been waiting for this moment like a filly or colt waits for their cutie mark, “could I do this?”

Reaching her right foreleg and hand towards Bon Bon, she strikes.

Startled, the earth pony throws the items she was working on in the air and turns to face the unicorn with a luminescent blush playing across Bon Bon’s face.

“What in Tartarus did you just do Lyra?!”

“Well, I just ran my hand through your tail. And what a soft and silky feeling it was, my love.”

To emphasize the point, Lyra, with a huge grin on her face, raises her right foreleg up and waves her hand at the embarrassed mare.

“You… have…a … hand. How do you have a hand?”

The unicorn begins to respond, but thinking better of her question Bon Bon places her hoof to Lyra’s mouth to silence her.

“You know what? I know you’re excited and all, but can it wait?” The cream colored mare puts her hoof around the shoulders of Lyra, giving her a quick squeeze. “You can recount the tale to me later over dinner. Deal?”

The unicorn scratches the back of her head sheepishly, “Deal!” Lyra’s energetic smile returns, just to fall once again as Bon Bon points her hoof at the mess of wrapped confections scattered across the shop.

“For now, why don’t you use your hand and your horn to help me pick up the candy you caused me to send flying? Then you can lend a hoof in completing the order so I can get it delivered. Then, finally, we can go on our date.”

A resigned Lyra nods and soon busies herself picking up and throwing away each piece of candy with her hand, squeezing each piece to feel its texture and consistency; something she had never been able to do with magic. Such sensitivity was marvelous! One particular piece of candy she handles reminds her of a certain mare. “This hand will make things fun later tonight,” she says to herself.

A short time later the intrepid duo finds themselves at Sugarcube Corner, Lyra levitating the package of plentifully piled pink and purple candies. Walking around back to the delivery entrance, Lyra knocks on the back door using her hand. Instead of the door however, the hand hits only air as Pinkie Pie opens the door in the instant before the knock lands.

“OHLyraAndBonBonSoNiceToSeeYouWhatBringsYouBy?MyOrder!Yay!I’veBeenLookingForwardToThisAllDay!YouMakeTheBestTaffyAndHardCandiesInTown!NotThatTheCakesDon’tMakeGoodSweets,ButCakesAndCupcakesAreDifferentFromCandies!ButThey-”

“Pinkie, breathe!” Bon Bon responds, cutting off the bouncing mare in mid-sentence. Pinkie, for her part, takes a large gulp of air and with a motion of her hoof welcomes the pair inside, showing them where to deposit the order. Upon setting the packages onto the counter, Lyra waves at Pinkie, which elicits a drawn-out gasp and the party pony levitating in midair, limbs spread wide.

“Oh you found what slipped through! My tail went wang, bang, zapow and then my ear went floppy-flippy-floopy earlier, which means something slipped through into this reality! It looks like you found the iHand X42.” Turning towards the sky, Pinkie continues, “Isn’t that right Mr. observer, watcher, narrator man!”

Pinkie suddenly begins to convulse; her limbs splaying in all direction. Her tail twitches into every possible shape imaginable. Her normally poofy mane repeatedly goes back and forth between straight and curly.

“You can quit now, I get it! No talking about you!”

The erratic behavior stops as suddenly as it began and Pinkie Pie turns back towards the confused pair of mares, Lyra scratching her head and Bon Bon just shrugging. If it were any other pony besides Pinkie they’d wonder what the hay was going on, but Pinkie is as Pinkie does. Bouncing over to the two, Pinkie pulls two cupcakes out of thin air, handing one to each of them.

“That’s a thank-you for bringing by my order! You’ll bill my account like normal right Bon Bon?”

“Of course, Pinkie, your purchase will be on the next month’s invoice. Thanks for the cupcake; it looks delicious, as always.”

“Yes, it does indeed look tasty and, thanks to my hand, it feels nice as well; though my hand isn’t responding as well as it did earlier. I wonder if I broke it…”

“Oh, no you didn’t, Lyra.” Pinkie interjects, “Just like a train runs on coal and needs to be refilled; the iHand X42 runs off of a battery that needs to be recharged every night!”

“A what?” the confused unicorn responds.

“A battery. It’s basically a non-magical item that stores electricity. It’s basically a little box full of lightning.”

“I see….” Lyra says as she and Bon Bon exchange glances of ‘It’s Pinkie’.

“Just ask Twilight for a spell to store lightning magic inside a gemstone. You can then attach it to the iHand X42 with an adherence spell. Then just,” Pinkie’s hooves compress tightly together and explode outwards in a rain of confetti. “BOOM!” Static electricity arcs between the floating pieces of paper in a mini fireworks display. “Send some lightning magic into the gem every so often and your iHand will always work! Bye!”

And with that the pink pony finally chooses to obey the basic law of gravity and returns all four hooves to the floor. She then promptly vanishes into the front of the shop, leaving the two mares to show themselves out.

“Well Bonny, Pinkie was… weirder than normal, and that’s saying something. Though, she seemed like she knew about my hand. Guess it couldn’t hurt to borrow another spell book from Twilight.”

“If you insist. Just make it quick, the delivery for Pinkie took longer than I expected and we don’t want to be late for our reservations.”

The sun is now low on the horizon and making way for the rising moon as the pair exit a large tree that serves as the town library. Lyra turns back towards the door and waves her hand bye as she addresses the attendant. “Thanks for the book Twilight, I’ll make sure to bring it back in one piece this time!”

A chuckle is heard as the door is encased in a purple aura and shuts itself. Bon Bon turns towards her partner and gives her a small glare, “Just ‘Twilight’? Isn’t that a little informal now?”

Lyra turns her head in slight confusion. “Why do you say that?”

In a very deadpan voice the earth pony replies, “I don’t know, maybe the wings and the crown?”

The unicorn only laughs, “What’s that have to do with it? She’s still the Twilight Sparkle we all know.”

“Lyra, I wish I could see the world through your eyes some times.”

“Really? I think there’s a spell for that.”

“Lets just get to the café.”

A nice and romantic meal later, the pair returns home with chargeable crystal and spell book in hoof. Setting their saddlebags down, Bon Bon goes off to catch up on some bookkeeping while Lyra begins her spell work. In short order the adhesion spell has been cast and the gemstone is tightly attached to the back of her hand: The strength of the spell should allow it to stay attached for about a month. Now beginning the work for the charging spell, Lyra decides to add a twist to it.

“I wonder if I would have better control over the hand and play better if I stored not only the lightning magic in the gem, but also some of the magic I use to play with.” She shrugs. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

And with that fateful set of words, Lyra casts her spell; within seconds of its completion her hand is working better than it did earlier, almost as if it’s sharing her thoughts directly. That night she shows Bon Bon what having a hand in the bedroom could really do. After giving the hand a vigorous workout, Lyra gives the gem another larger charge of her magic and falls asleep, cuddling close to Bon Bon.

The next morning dawns and, as always, Lyra is up with the sun; an old habit from her time at Celestia’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns. Raising her right forehoof to her face, she rubs the sleep from her eyes, only to scream a mere second later.

“My hand is gone! Bonny, wake up! My hand is gone!”

Grumbling slightly, the earth pony smacks Lyra upside the head in a loving manner, or as loving as a hoof to the head can be.

“It probably fell off during the night. Now go back to sleep. I don’t have to be in to work until this afternoon and your concert isn’t until this evening.”

Bon Bon snuggles closer to Lyra, “Sleep now, hand later.” The cream mare falls back into Luna’s embrace. Sighing, Lyra is at least relieved that her hand wasn’t some wonderful dream she had the misfortune of waking from; she returns to dreaming of humans and what wonders they could bring.

Author's Note

First chapter rewritten/edited

The (mis) Adventures of Thunderlane

Idle Hand Does the Discord’s Work

The (Mis)Adventures of Thunderlane

Early that morning…

The gentle light of a waning moon streams through a window, illuminating a bed where two mares lay entwined in each other’s hooves. The only other light is the soft, pulsing of a green crystal. The time between each pulse gets shorter and shorter, until it’s a solid glow. The light is accompanied by the hissing release of pressurized gas. Now free, the iHand rolls off the bed and onto the floor. Under the protective skin, an LED screen comes to life, running a system diagnostic.

Battery Charge………………………...……...................…..150%

Motor Function………....................................................150%

Temperature Sensors...................................................…150%

Audio Command Input……………….....….....................…150%

Touch Sensors…………………………….….......................150%

System in Error. Device overcharged

Excess charge must be safely vented.

Activating Free Roam protocol.

Pinging Base Station for location services.

Lyra’s horn glows slightly in response to the magic resonance from the gemmed hand.

Base station location confirmed.

Commencing free roam and investigation.

Activating sensors at maximum output.

The iHand begins to stir and with the dexterity of a hand, rights itself and commences to walk on two of its fingers. Short pulses from its notification speaker are enough for it to map the room and slip out the cracked door and then out a window. Its sensors on full alert, it begins its trek to burn off the overcharge.

Later that day…

In an alley not far from the hospital, a bandaged Thunderlane slinks through the shadows, doing his best to avoid anypony. His left eye is covered completely by a medical eye patch and cold compress; the former to protect the eye from further damage and the latter to help reduce the swelling. Thunderlane’s own dark coloration helps him to blend in and disappear into the shadows cast by the taller buildings in Ponyville. Not wanting to draw any more attention to himself until he can figure out what the hay just happened, the unlucky stallion slinks further into the alley.

“Let’s think about this,” he mumbles to himself as he settles down to think, a discarded pile of rocks further hiding him from anypony who’d cross the alley. “I was heading to the market before work this morning…”

One hour prior…

The sounds of bartering ponies, bits hitting wood, and friendly laughter emanate from the market place below the descending Pegasus stallion. Running a hoof through his mohawk-like mane, Thunderlane smirks.

“Looks like everything’s gearing up,” he glances between the overwhelming numbers of mares below, “but they all know the party don’t start till I get there.” Hurrying his descent, he lands just short of the outermost stalls near one of the houses that surround the town square. The blast of his wings knocks over the iHand perched on two fingers near the wall.

Gyros destabilized.

Investigating source of disturbance.

Large heat source found in direction of disturbance.

Sonic pinging target to identify.

Pattern logged.

Commencing observation.

Stealing a quick glance in a window to ensure he looks like his normal, ravishing self, Thunderlane enters the market, shadowed by the iHand. The first stall on his circuit of the market sells a variety of flowers and is staffed by Rose, a pale yellow earth pony mare. Her red hued mane and tail playfully sways as she inspects the flowers, filling in the spots left empty from sale.

“Morning, Rose, lovely as ever I see,” Thunderlane flashes his winning smile at the mare.

Turning her head towards the newcomer, she smiles in that friendly manner that every shop keeper does. “Why yes they are, Thunderlane. Thank you. These are some of my best flowers yet this season.”

“I wasn’t referring to the flowers, but I guess with you tending them day in and day out, your beauty has rubbed off on them.”

Rose only rolls her eyes, “Flattery won’t get you free flowers.”

“What about a date?”

“No chance.”

“I’ll take a half dozen Cloud Lilies, then.”

She gathers the flowers into a small bundle, tying a string around the stems to keep them bound. “That’ll be 6 bits.”

Pivoting his wing, Thunderlane retrieves the currency from his saddlebag. Extending his wing he drops the coins onto the counter and retrieves the bundle. His wing stows the flowers into the open bag as he walks past Rose. The iHand reacts to the movement of the air as the wing passes by.

Gyro-stabilization compensating for increased wind.

Target heat signature muddled…….......................Recalibrating

Multiple heat sources detected.

Locating elevated position for sonic ping

Lowering itself to the ground the iHand springs up with a rapid twitch of its primary digits, landing onto the nearest object. Very quickly it scrambles up over a rose cutie mark and onto the solid, non-moving cart. The downward movement of the wing passing within a few inches of the iHand’s movement as Thunderlane passes by, his shadow hiding its presence.

“I’ll see you again next week, Rose… Maybe then you’ll accept my offer,” Thunderlane says with a flick of his mane as he trots off.

Rose, however, is in a slight state of shock. Did Thunderlane just feel me up? He’s never tried that before. Maybe it was an accident? He’s a creep yes, but a good-natured one. Probably an accident. Can’t hurt to keep my ear to the ground, just in case.

Elevation attained.

Releasing 180 degree ping cycle.

Two sonic profiles detected.

Analyzing sonic profile 1.

Profile is a 87% match to primary heat signature.

Logging profile……………………………........…..Profile logged.

Battery Charge…………………………….....................…..130%

Continuing analysis.

Glancing towards the brash stallion, Rose shakes her head and turns back to her cart, barely missing the iHand as it scrambles up onto the stall’s awning. The hand bounces from roof to awning to tent, following the heat signature and sonic profile it was investigating.

From stall to stall Thunderlane continues his shopping; only visiting those stands staffed by mares. His bags now contain various foodstuffs from the produce stands and an unneeded scroll he had to buy after seeing a cute snow-white unicorn mare working the scroll stand instead of the regular stallion. Ice queen, she just blew me right off with no emotion whatsoever. All the while, his second shadow follows him, continually pinging the unaware Pegasus.

Increase in smaller moving thermal signatures detected.

Reducing distance to primary target to 1 foot.

Larger structures identified as optimal scan point.

Smaller thermal masses determined to be at correct height for

reaching structures with minimal energy expenditure.

Continuing tracking.

Using its embedded heat sensors, the iHand moves from mare to mare, using their backs as springboards to move to the various structures. Even then, the iHand stays within a wing length of Thunderlane, the proximity preventing the thermal and sonic signatures from blurring into the increasing crowd. Each movement of the iHand causes the pony it touches to stop and stare at the oblivious Thunderlane. Voices are raised, but fall on deaf ears as the Stallion continues to hit on the various mares running the shops and stands.

The continued reaction of the mares to Thunderlane’s passing begins to ripple across the market and a wide berth is formed for the pegasus stallion. This causes the din of the market to slowly fade as Thunderlane approaches his final stop: the Apple family cart. Once again he dons his winning smile and looks over, only to see a large red stallion working the cart instead of the well-toned orange mare he had expected. Had it been any other stand he’d have skipped it, but if there was one thing he needed each week, it was apples.

“Morning, Big Mac, working the stand today instead of Applejack?”

“Eeeyup.”

Looking over his shoulder, he sees a large line of mares has formed up behind him, apparently waiting for their chance to purchase Apples. “Still bringing all the mares to the yard I see.” Big Mac doesn’t respond.

Increasing volume of thermal masses near target.

Target lost.

Elevation required for broad scan.

Elevation located.

The iHand moves in a series of quick jumps to the roof of a one story building located near the apple stand.

Elevation attained.

Commencing scan.

Target found.

Distance of 30 feet.

Structure found at interval of 10 feet.

Motors at 130% functionality.

Directing power to motors.

Commencing ranged movement.

Behind the crowd, the black iHand goes soaring through the sky and over the target structure.

Target missed.

Impact imminent.

Preparing for collision.

The fingers of the iHand ball up in preparation to hit the ground, but instead bounces off of a trampoline placed next to its original destination. The momentum of the bounce sends the hand flying over the crowd and towards Thunderlane. Airborne once again, the iHand’s fingers unclench.

Tough crowd. Thunderlane shrugs, “Anyways, can you drop a half bushel of assorted apples off underneath my cloud house later this…”

A quiet voice and the gentle tapping of a wing on his shoulder interrupts Thunderlane. “Um, I was next…that is if you don’t mind.”

Small thermal mass detected in close proximity to primary target.

Adjusting descent.

Thunderlane jumps slightly and looks down at the local animal caretaker. “Sorry Flutters, I didn’t notice you there.” I swear she could stand in the middle of an open field and be overlooked. Still, she’s one of the top 3 hotties here in town Opening his wings and bowing in a grandiose manner he continues, “By all means, after you.” The down sweep of his wings as he bows corresponds exactly with the iHand landing and sliding down the flank of the demure pony. Fluttershy’s scream echoes across the market.

Thunderlane looks around, “Huh? What’s wrong Fluttershy?” Big Mac lumbers towards the frightened mare, who takes comfort behind the red stallion.

“He….He…” She raises her quivering hoof and points it at Thunderlane, who looks confused, “My…fl…flan..eeeeeeep”

“I did what?” The words barely leave Thunderlane’s mouth before a large hoof smashes into his face, immediately filling his eyes with stars.

High volume sonic wave detected.

Sonar disabled. Recalibration required.

Massive increase in heat signatures obscuring target.

Withdrawing from area until sensors are recalibrated.

Back in the alley…

Putting a foreleg around a nearby pile of rocks, Thunderlane laments to it like an old drinking buddy. “Now I know it wasn’t me,” he says turning his good eye towards his ‘friend’, “but how do I prove that to everypony?” His question falls on the deaf ears of the three stacked rocks sharing the alley with him. Pausing, Thunderlane looks around, checking for any of the offended mares, or anypony at all. Sighing, he kicks a discarded can and stares at the sky above. “Am I such a bad stallion that all of them just assumed it was me? Maybe I seriously need to reevaluate how I do things…”

“Hey, bub, youse should hunt down the fink what framed ya and make dem pay.”

Startled, the stallion looks up, down, and around for the owner of the voice.

“Yer a stallion ain’tcha? Don’t get all weepy and introspective. Listen to yer friend Rocky ‘ere. Show dem what’s what!”

The voice is louder now, coming from his immediate right, Thunderlane stares at the pile of rocks in disbelief. Laughing to himself, he shrugs. “I must have been hit harder than I thought. Well, whatever. You’re right ‘Rocky’, I should find who or what was responsible. No two-bit colt frames the great Thunderlane. Maybe then I can show my face in public again.”

With a dismissive wave of his wing to the rock pile and a sarcastic, “Thanks,” Thunderlane skulks off to the next piece of cover.

“Whatta maroon,” the rock pile exclaims before getting knocked over by the iHand that fell from the rooftop above. Dislodged from the pile, a long pink hair drifts away on a gust of wind.

Righting itself, the iHand twitches, disoriented from the unexpectedly hard impact.

Target signature unable to be located.

Elevated reading in error.

Distance from ground miscalculated.

Accelerometer reports larger than expected impact.

Initiating full motor functionality test.

The iHand goes through a serious of successive movements. Each finger joint moved to the maximum angle allowed. The mobility range check completed, the hand begins to prance around the alley, testing the motor strength. The second check complete, the device goes idle.

Motor range…………………............................………..99.90%

Range within system tolerance.

Motor strength………………….....................................100.00%

Strength within system tolerance.

Motor functionality test passed.

Battery Charge…………………………….....................…..115%

Recommencing energy venting.

Free roam mode online.

By the time the iHand has completed its task Thunderlane is long gone. Not detecting any registered heat or sonic signatures, the iHand begins a wide range sonic pulse. The hemisphere of high frequency sound is focused more on detecting moving bulk than detail, so there are greater intervals between pulses and the spread is greater. Detecting no moving anomalies, the iHand pings the base station to check its distance and begins to follow a spiraling path centered on Lyra’s house.

“Okay, not much further now. A good solid 100 trot aerial dash and I’ll be at the office. Then a few seconds after that, I’ll be at the empty locker room. I should have enough time to drop off my bags, trash the bandages, and be out before anypony else gets in. Simple as that. I’ll actually even be early for once - maybe things are starting to turn around.” Running his hoof through his beloved mane, Thunderlane glances at his bandaged but swollen eye in a nearby window. Wincing slightly, he continues, “Or maybe not.” Having kept his wings glued to his side for the past two hours, Thunderlane begins to give them a good stretch before commencing his dash.

Estimated time till return to base station required...10 minutes.

Continuing wide range sweep.

Moving target acquired.

Tight range scan commencing.

Sonic pattern recognized.

Primary target reacquired.

The iHand takes notice of the stretching pegasus and begins to move towards Thunderlane. Still oblivious, the stallion finishes his stretches and sets himself into a sprinter’s start position. Checking left and right for any errant carts, Thunderlane spies something unusual in the corner of his eye.

“Is that a black claw? Is that a WALKING black claw?” Thinking (which makes a record 4 times he’s considered things in one day) about what that weird talking rock pile had said earlier, Thunderlane can’t help but notice the claw is almost the exact same shade as his coat. “Could that be what framed me?” Forgetting all about work, his focus shifts to the mobile target, a predatory grin overtaking his face. “Whatever it is, I bet if I catch it things will get sorted out. Even if it isn’t the culprit, two can play at the frame game.”

And with that he takes off in a dead aerial sprint, his pride on the line. Racing through the morning air, leaving a mild gray streak in his wake, the brave stallion takes aim for the foul appendage.

DANGER

Incoming heat signature.

Impact imminent.

Taking evasive actions.

With the grace of a matador, the iHand sidesteps the charging pony and without missing a beat, continues on its journey. The same can be said for Thunderlane: Having missed his target he banks into a quick turn to try and swing around a tree to make a second pass. Misjudging the distance due to his bandaged eye, he flies straight into the tree and tumbles to the ground. Thunderlane lays there stunned for a few minutes before rising.

Collision avoided.

Primary target remains stationary.

Investigating target.

“Stupid depth perception! No wonder Derpy crashes so much. I think I owe her an apology for all those times I laughed when she ran into things”. The brave stallion, now bruised further in both body and pride, limps off to the locker room. “I’ll find wherever that Discord-damned thing is hiding and get my revenge,” he mutters, the prey now out of sight.

The iHand approaches the groggy stallion from his blind side as Thunderlane inspects his wings for damage from the crash. A few tentative flaps later and he’s barely hovering above the ground.

Primary target’s position changed. Reacquiring.

Target is airborne.

Scanning for options.

Solution located.

Commencing action.

With a powerful thrust of the fingers, the iHand grabs hold of Thunderlane’s passing tail. The lightweight nature of the iHand does not alert the Stallion to its presence. The throbbing headache from the repeated head trauma doesn’t help him much either. Thunderlane gains further altitude and begins a zigzag flight path. The pegasus and his unlikely and unknown passenger begin to make their way to the cloud-based weather pony office and locker rooms.

Situated near the outskirts of Ponyville’s commercial district and about 50 hooves above the ground, the Ponyville meteorological facility was a marvel of modern cloud construction. Built only recently, it was hoof-designed by the current weather manager for the district, each room having been built to her exacting specifications. Rainbow Dash had left nothing out, except for a locker room for the ever-increasing stallion population. Over budget, she had to sacrifice the back hall and one of the main locker room’s storage closets to makeup for her oversight. Crowding and building code issues aside, the stallions got their locker room.

Thunderlane stands at the door apprehensively, the loud boisterous noises of his fellow weather stallions echoing from the locker room Please Celestia, no. He opens the door and is welcomed to the packed locker room by the cacophony being replaced by the sound of silence, complete utter silence. Gulping, he steps in and closes the door. Normally the stallion locker room is only twenty-four hooves wide and barely spacious enough for two stallions to pass each other. But, with all eyes on him as he makes his way towards his own locker, Thunderlane swears it was remodeled to be four or five times that long. Snickers break the tomb-like silence and forehooves can be seen gesturing at Thunderlane’s injuries. This was something he had hoped to avoid.

“Hey Thunders, heard ya got caught wing tilling some plot this morning,” one of the pegasi calls out. Turning towards Buddy, Thunderlane stops and groans to himself, thinking Shit, it’s already gotten out.

“Yeah, I heard you even had the brass ones to till Fluttershy’s while Big Mac was around,” Spectrum chimes in.

“Looks like he worked you over some, but you should be glad you didn’t end up like that Eternal Ember fellow.” Great Scott adds his two bits in.

Confused, Thunderlane presses Great Scott for further information. “Eternal Ember? Wasn’t he that the bright red unicorn that came down from Manehatten a year or two ago? I thought he just tucked tail and ran home.”

Smirking, Great Scott nods. “Well, he kind of did, but in a full body cast.”

“Come again?” Thunderlane gulps.

“Yup, seems Eternal Ember was trying to romance Applejack and was making a damned good go of it. You know, flowers, helping out at the farm, saying just the right thing, the whole package. I really thought the colt was serious. That is, until he slipped up.”

Buddy interjects, “Oh right, when Big Mac overheard him at a bar bragging to some of his upper-class buddies that, and I quote, ‘Farm mares are easy. Toss ‘em a few honeyed words and they’ll be eating out of your hoof. I’ll have conquered that plot by tomorrow night, marking the fiftieth for the year.’ Now you can imagine Big Mac had a problem with that. Oh boy did he ever.”

Spectrum cuts in. “Wasn’t he delivering a barrel of Sweet Apple Acres’ best to the rooftop bar down the street?”

“Yeah, Buddy and I were hanging out at the bar after work. Anyways, don’t interrupt.” Great Scott clears his throat and resumes the story. “Well, Big Mac turned round and bucked the smug idiot so hard he went flying through the door.”

Thunderlane winces: he had gotten off lightly.

“Down two flights of stairs,” Great Scott continues the tale, “out a closed window, and right into a cart piled high with manure that three fillies were trying to sell to get cutie marks.”

Very lightly.

Now a visibly paler shade of grey, Thunderlane gulps, “How bad was he hurt?”

Spectrum fields the question, “Well, I was getting a drink with a cute nurse from the hospital not long after it happened. Seems he had three shattered ribs, two broken legs, a cracked vertebrae, a broken jaw, and last but not least, a yeast infection from the manure.”

“Wait. Yeast infection? That means antibiotics injected…in the…meeep.” All of the stallions listening in whimper as the same train of thought that had just occurred to Thunderlane occurs to them.

Buddy chuckles, “When Scotty and I saw-”

“I hate that nickname,” Scotty interrupts.

“Ahem. When SCOTTY and I saw it all go down-”

“I hate you.”

“We’d never seen Big Mac that angry. A lot of us stallions saw or heard of it and it’s the main reason most of us avoid trying to court Applejack. We like being able to eat solid food. And that is why you were lucky.”

With an air of finality the conversation thread ends and another starts up about the next scheduled rain shower. Trying to be as small as possible, the beleaguered pony continues to work his way down the room to his locker at the far end.

Logs indicate vertical movement.

Triangulating location.

Location confirmed. 50 feet above previously identified ground

level.

No structures of adequate height identified in area.

Thermal sweep commencing.

Thermal sweep complete. Processing results.

Sweep indicates multiple thermal masses matching general

phenotype of target.

Sweep indicates cool mass surrounding thermal masses.

Thermal signature matches type: Cloud.

Sweep indicates large heat anomoly15 feet north of current

location.

Battery Charge……………………………...................…..107.5%

Investigating anomaly.

The iHand disengages itself from Thunderlane’s tail and works its way over the other stallions towards the detected anomaly. Noticing something is up with his passing, Thunderlane sees the angry glares coming from his fellow weather ponies. Some just write off the movement of the iHand as a result of the tight conditions, but others turn to Thunderlane and state that they ‘don’t fly those cross winds’.

“Guys, whatever’s happening its not me!”

One however seems to take great offense from it: a colossal white stallion with muscles that have muscles of their own, a blond mohawk, and small stubby wings. Steam billows from his nostrils as he appears to get angrier and angrier. The room quickly empties; most of the stallions fearing for their own safety lest they get caught in the carnage soon to fill the small space.

Turning his head to the fleeing stallions Thunderlane shouts, “Screw you guys!”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you Thunders?”

“Buddy…I hate you.”

Buddy beats a hasty exit, the door banging shut behind him. The two remaining pegasi look at each other, and in his trademark guttural voice the aptly named Horsepower speaks. “You… you… you really do care? I always kind of fancied you, but to know you like me back is just so AWESOME! Oh YEAAAH!”

Thunderlane stands there stunned; he had definitely not expected this.

“Now I prefer to date a few at a time and it may be some mares. Just one or two, if that’s all right with you,” Horsepower says with a wink and using his hooves, the colossal stallion begins to apply baby oil to himself, making his bulk shine in the enchanted lights of the locker room, “Gotta look good for the mares right?”

Looking towards the heavens, the dusky grey pegasus only utters one simple statement: “Oh, buck me.”

Proximity to Anomaly attained.

Sonic sweep commencing.

Sonic sweep complete.

Anomaly identified as larger variety of targets phenotype.

Battery Charge……………………………......................104.00%

Excess power successfully vented.

Commencing return to base station.

The two distracted stallions fail to notice the iHand jump off the bench near Horsepower and onto the floor. Not being a pegasi or having the proper cloud walking enchantment, the iHand slips through the floor and plummets towards the ground.

ERROR. Rapid acceleration in progress.

Entering safety mode.

The iHand spread all of its fingers out to maximize its air resistance and slow its descent. The brief noise of motors powering down follows as the hand itself goes limp and inactive. The iHand is prepared for impact, only to break its short fall by hitting the back of Derpy, the town’s misfortune plagued mailmare. This in turn sends her corkscrewing into one of the columns of Ponyville City Hall, destroying it on impact.

“My bad!” the mailpony calls out.

Restarting services.

Services restarted.

Terminal impact averted. Reason unknown.

Running Diagnostic.

Battery Charge………………………......................………..103%

Motor Function………..................................................98.90%

Temperature Sensors...............................................…99.45%

Audio Command Input……………….....................….…98.50%

Touch Sensors……………………………..................…..96.50%

Diagnostics within threshold.

Pinging base station.

Base station acquired.

Resuming return to base station.

The iHand rights itself from the wreckage. Checking the distance from the base station, it calculates that all excess energy will be safely spent by the time it returns to Lyra’s side. Turning off its non-important sensors, the iHand begins the trek back to it’s base station.

Back in Lyra and Bon Bon’s bedroom, the iHand shuffles up a strewn blanket and onto the bed itself. The unicorn’s horn glows in tune with the green gem attached to the back of the artificial hand as it closes the distance to the slumbering mare. A quick flip and the iHand slides back onto Lyra’s right forehoof, the pressure cuff inflating to secure it in place.

Connected to Base Station.

Excess charge vented.

Autonomous mode disabled.

Resuming passive mode.

The crystal affixed to the iHand ceases its glowing and so does Lyra’s horn. Moments later an alarm annoyingly blares its deafening tones and wakes both Lyra and Bon Bon. A cream hoof comes slamming down onto the alarm, silencing its irritating din. Another cream hoof stops a hammer before it can smash the clock. Normally the hammer is magically levitated however, this morning, or more precisely late morning, it is instead held by a black hand attached to the front right hoof of her marefriend.

“I see you found your ah… hand, Lyra.”

Now wide awake, Lyra looks at her right hoof - well, hand. “I did…? I DID!”

Reaching for Bon Bon’s mane, her ho... hand is stopped by the hoof of the other mare.

“I’m sorry dear; we are not having a repeat of last night where you spent over two hours running your… fingers through my mane and tail. I don’t care how good it felt, it kept me awake for far too long.”

“Not even once, Bonny?” Lyra gives her best puppy dog eyes, adding in a slight quiver of her lip. This always works.

“No.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

“Correct. Now, let’s go get some breakfast. I have work and you have a concert with Octavia tonight.”

Deflated from her lack of tactile interaction with the love of her life, Lyra follows Bon Bon out the door and down to the kitchen.

Reconnected to base station.

Accessing powered connection.

Lyra’s horn glows very faintly as the gem on the iHand lights up in unison.

Powered connection acquired.

Parsing analysis of autonomous mode.

Contacting satellite for data uplink……..

Uplink failed, satellite not found.

Cross referencing thermal and sonic scans with internal database.

73% match for sonic signatures found.

Signature matches Equus ferus caballus.

Common name: horse.

Thermal scan indicates 29% match for avian origins.

Cross referencing internal database for combined match.

Match found.

Target identified as mythical creature Pegasus.

Crypto-biological entity identified.

Further study recommended on next autonomous mode.

Author's Note

Eternal Ember is a random name I came up with and is by no means related to any character already in existence. It sounded to me like a name someone would use for an OC pony so I ran with it.

Also, this is an almost full rewrite of the original chapter 2. Chapter 3 will be getting a similar treatment. Old chapter 2 deleted.

Bass Instincts

"Okay Lyra, I'm off to open the store. Try not to break anything else while you experiment with that hand of yours.” Bon Bon states as she finishes packing her saddlebags, “And remember you have rehearsal in three hours, try not to be late!"

The mint green mare gives her compatriot a pouting glare. "Bonny, I'm not some foal. I'm a grown adult."

Bon Bon just rolls her eyes. "How did you spend all of breakfast, hmm?"

Dejectedly Lyra replies, "Squeezing, touching, and catching everything in the kitchen.”

"And how many dishes did you break?"

"Crushed two mugs, dropped one plate and smashed a bowl. Oh, and sent a grapefruit through the side window..."

"My point exactly," Bon Bon retorts as she secures her saddlebag.

“But-”Lyra gestures to the dishes on the table “-I fixed them already.”

Bon Bon shakes her head as she gives the unicorn a quick nuzzle, “But they're never the same.” The earth pony smiles at the other mare's pouty face as she heads out the door.

"Humph!" is all Lyra can retort as she closes the door with a brief glow of her magic. Scratching her chin, her demeanor changes drastically, "I wonder what cupcakes and other desserts feel like." She strikes a pose, pointing dramatically towards the center of town. "To Sugarcube Corner!" And with that she sets off in a blur, her bags and lyre forgotten.

After a period of Pinkie Pie-powered pastry perturbation, plundering, and pillaging, the town clock tolls two, signaling that Lyra is late for her rehearsal.

"Crap, Octavia's gonna kill me," she exclaims, turning towards Pinkie. "Can you run over to the concert hall and let them know I'm on my way? I have to run home and ge-"

The party pony holds up Lyra's saddlebags in one hoof and her lyre in the other. "Your bags and lyre?"

Perplexed, Lyra responds, "But how did you know I'd need them?"

The smiling Pinkie replies, "That's because everypony is my friend and I know what’s needed to make each one of them smile.

“But when did you get them? You've been here the entire time."

"That's easy you silly filly, I got them when you were devouring the danish."

"But, but that was less than a minute... how did you get there and back? My house is on the other side of town."

The perky mare begins to inhale for what will certainly be a long, run-on statement when Lyra silences her. "You know what, I'm late already. You can explain it to me later." Rushing out of the door, she turns back, "And thanks for getting my stuff. I owe you one." With that, another green blur can be seen heading towards the town performance spaces.

"You're late... again, Lyra", an unamused gray mare states, not even turning towards the door to verify who just entered.

"Only by a few minutes. It's not like I'm always late," the tardy pony states while scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

"Not always late?" Octavia continues to tune her cello. "How many times between now and our 1st year in college were you on time?"

Lyra blushes as she sets down her own instrument to prepare it. "Enough to pass-” her shoulders slump “and not get fired from my jobs"

The cellist sighs. "That's only because either Vinyl or I made sure you weren't late. Even then-” Octavia adjusts the tension of her instruments strings, “-you had to repeat at least two electives neither of us shared with you." A quick pluck of a string and she is satisfied with the sound of her cello. At last she looks up to acknowledge her fellow performer. "At least your mane is in decent shape, right?” Octavia's eyes go straight to Lyra's right forehoof. “What in Celestia's name is that on your hoof?"

Lyra's smile threatens to split her head in half. "This is my hand! I found it yesterday and it's awesome. It lets me feel things."

An eye roll is all she gets in response.

"Oh, it can even let me play my lyre like a pegasus or griffon, actually able to feel the strings." To prove the point, the mint green mare begins to play a haunting melody with her hand, subtle adjustments made here and there to enhance the effect. Driven by an unknown force, Octavia joins in. The deeper tones of her instrument enhance the lilting tune, granting it a depth not found before. The impromptu duet continues for a few minutes until it ends as suddenly as it started.

"That- that was beautiful! I don't think I've ever heard you play something like that before, Lyra." Octavia wipes a tear from her eye. "And you say it's all because of that hand of yours?"

Lyra's smile is as wide as a mile. "I think so."

"Would… would you mind if I gave it a try? It seems like an interesting concept."

"I think I can arrange that," Lyra replies; with a brief flash of her horn the pressure cuff's release valve is activated and the iHand detaches itself with a hiss of escaping gas. The glow continues and encases the hand, levitating it towards Octavia's right forehoof. "Raise your front right leg please." The grey earth pony complies and the hand slides down, securing itself with a slight sucking noise.

"This feels rather odd, kind of heavy as well." The gray mare moves her foreleg tentatively and finds the fingers opening and closing when she thinks about doing it. Grabbing her bow, she rolls it around in the hand. "This truly is far different from using one's hoof."

"I know, right?"

Octavia now holds the bow in a normal Earth pony position, but the arm holding it is slightly further back to account for the longer foreleg. Taking her usual standing position, the music begins. While the lyre gave forth a haunting melody, the cello emits a jaunty tune. A steady upbeat bass rhythm escalates into a throbbing bass riff. The lyre joins it, sharp notes cutting in to accent the deeper bass. Soon, the male members of the ensemble, having heard the tune from their dressing room, join in, adding a peppy brass section to the tune. The freestyle, off-the-cuff song concludes with the other instruments fading out, leaving the cello by itself again. A few rapid thrums of a bass chord and the song is over. The energized ponies stomp their hooves in approval.

In a darkened room a few streets away, a mare with an electric blue mane awakens with a start.

"Wow, I have this feeling like Tavi just dropped the bass and I don't mean her cello." Stretching, her joints pop as a pair of sunglasses levitate over, perching squarely on her nose. "Crazy. I doubt Treble Clef would ever do anything like that. I really need to stop eating Pinkie's jalapeno-frosted cupcakes after a set."

"Ms. Octavia, I don't know where you and Ms. Heartstrings got the idea for this piece and the previous one, but we simply must add them to our performance!" a blue stallion, the trumpet player for their group, exclaims.

Octavia turns towards him while removing the iHand from her forehoof. "While I do think Lyra's initial piece would make a wonderful addition, Noteworthy, I don't think the second improvisation would mesh well with the rest of our set. It reminded me of an acoustic version of that dreck Vinyl plays."

"ACHOOOOO!" the blue-maned mare sniffs. "Somepony must be talking about that awesome set I spun at Pinkie's party last night!"

Lyra levitates the hand over to her, securing it back onto her right hoof. "As Octavia says, the second composition isn't really our style. Also," she continued, waving her hand, "we only have one of these so we can't both perform."

Noteworthy can only shrug his shoulders. "Then shall we get the practice underway? I assume we're all warmed up, yes?" With that, the quartet heads for the stage and begins rehearsing their set. Some time is spent integrating the brass into the duet Lyra and Octavia had played earlier.

The house is full that night, partly due to a stagehoof spreading the word of a new piece and partly due to a scheduled thunderstorm later that evening. Whatever their reason for being there, everypony waits eagerly for the concert to begin. Back stage, the quartet is full of nervous energy; the larger than anticipated crowd only serving to amplify the affect.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, the blue stallion addresses his comrades. "Okay everypony, we go on shortly. Do we have the new program memorized?" A chorus of nods affirms it. "Good, now," he gulps, "good luck."

The group files onto the stage, led by Octavia.

Lyra trails the group and with a brief flash of her magic tops off the charge on the iHand. She whispers to the palm of her hand, "Okay hand, let's show them what we can do," and with that she heads for the stage.

Rainbow Dash rubs her temples in annoyance, "Okay Thunderlame, I don't know why you hit Horsepower, but because of it both you and he were late for roll call today.” The mare hovers back and forth in front of the stallion, “Due to being late and for breaking the rules, I'm assigning you to storm duty tonight.

Thunderlane can only sigh; it has not been his day. "Okay, who will be assisting me?"

"Nopony will."

"What!? It's a Class Three thunderstorm. How am I supposed to manage it on my own?"

Rainbow Dash glides over to him. "You'll have to find a way. It wouldn't be punishment if it were easy." She glides closer to whisper in his ear. "Also, if I ever hear of you doing anything like that again to Fluttershy I WILL geld you with a Sonic Rainboom. Is that clear?"

The venom and intent clear in her voice, Thunderlane can only nod. "Crystal clear, ma'am."

"Good." With a quick flap of her wings she's off in a rainbow blur, leaving Thunderlane staring at a vast expanse of thunderclouds ready to release their payload.

"I hate my life."

Back at the concert hall the show concludes and there is not a dry eye in the house. The new piece finished 10 minutes prior, but the pounding of the patrons' hooves in approval still has not stopped. The emotionally spent and physically exhausted performers can only bow, over and over again.

Three sharp peels of thunder, indicating the planned storm will begin in 15 minutes, finally silences the applause, the crowd starts to file out in order to get home before the storm hits. The darkening skies outside cause sconces along the walls to begin to glow, illuminating the hall and its antichambers. The members of the quartet wearily trot offstage and rest themselves on the waiting pillows in their respective dressing rooms. Even as tired as she is, Octavia takes the time to conscientiously pack up her cello.

"Lyra, you and your hand performed very well out there tonight. I was impressed."

"Thank you Octavia, you were at the top of your game as well."

Closing the lid to the cello case, the gray mare turns towards her mint green compatriot. "I would ask a favor of you though."

"Whatcha need? A little magic lift getting your instrument home?"

"No, nothing of the sort." Her left foreleg rubs nervously against the right. "I was wondering if you would let me make a copy of your hand for my own use during shows."

Once again Lyra's smile threatens to split her face in two. "Of course, of course. I'm always willing to give you a hand."

At Sugarcube Corner Pinkie puts on a pair of sunglasses, emitting a loud "YEAAAAAAAAAAAH!" as she does.

"But who will you get to make it? I mean, it looks like it's fairly advanced techno-magic. I can't think of anypony who could do it." The puzzled unicorn responds.

"You should not have to think so hard," Octavia responds back. "We do have a pony in town that specializes in techno-magic items that will be more than thrilled to do it." The gray mare smiles some, “Also, you know her very well.”

A candle can be seen lighting itself above Lyra's head, the enchantment upon it finally activating. "Oh, you mean Vinyl!"

"Indeed."

Lyra levitates her lyre into her saddlebag as Octavia secures the back strap for her cello case. The unicorn steps in front of her friend and responds, "Well no time like the present, let's go see Vinyl. Besides, the storm is going to start soon and your place is closer than mine."

Octavia nods, "Very well then, I'm sure she will enjoy the company and the chance to examine your hand.”

With a few steps the musicians leave the concert hall as Lyra magically closes the door behind them.

"Vinyl, I'm back and I brought company!" The two mares step into Octavia and Vinyl's house, rain dripping from their coats. "And please bring some towels; we were caught in the rain." There is no response. "Don't tell me that lazy mare is still sleeping..."

"Um, Octavia? Why are the puddles of water vibrating like that? Is there an Ursa around or something?"

The cellist can only facehoof. "No, it means Vinyl is practic-"

Both mares are thrown back against the door as a loud, resounding bass chord radiates from the back room. Righting themselves, Octavia groans, "I'll be right back." She heads for the studio, dripping water the entire way and bracing herself with each bass line. The music cuts out abruptly and the sound of a hoof hitting head can be heard.

"Ow!”The DJ rubs her head “Oh, Tavi, yer home. How was the show?"

"Fine, now-"

"Oh, wet mane!" the electric blue-maned unicorn interrupts. "Sexy, you know what that does to me... See you upstairs in five?"

The immediate response is another hoof to the head. "No. Behave, we have company."

Vinyl rubs her head where the second blow landed as the two mares exit the studio and rejoin Lyra. Noticing the mint unicorn Vinyl waves. “Evening Lyra. You here to shoot the breeze?

Octavia clears he throat, "Something like that. Now please get some tea started and grab us some towels; we were caught in the storm and are soaked to the bone."

The unicorn heads out with her marching orders. "On it Octo-butt"

A few minutes pass and the three mares are now comfortably dry as they sip some nice herbal tea.

"Tavi, you'll never believe what happened this afternoon. I was sleeping-"

"How is that any different from every other day?"

"Well yeah, but I woke up because I thought you were dropping the bass. How crazy is that?"

Lyra and Octavia exchange bemused smiles. Vinyl's face switches from amused, to confused, then back to amused.

"Wait...you really did?!"

"Yes Vinyl, she did. Acoustically, but yes: Octavia Melody 'dropped the bass' during practice."

The startled white unicorn seizes up, bleats like a goat and falls over. Lyra looks worried, Octavia only rolls her eyes.

"Now Vinyl dear, the reason Lyra is here is because she recently came into possession of some new techno-magic that I would like you to look at."

The words rouse the prone mare and with a blur of blue and white her attention is turned squarely towards Lyra and the device strapped to her hoof.

"Is that it!?" The DJ says as she eagerly waves a hoof towards the iHand.

"Yes," Lyra states as she magically depresses the pressure valve and sets the iHand in front of the slightly drooling unicorn. "Now I know you'll want to know where I got it, but the truth is it just kind of hit me."

"S'cool. So other than it being some sweet bit of techno-magic, why'd yah bring it to me?"

Octavia sucks in a deep breath and begins, "Because, my dear Vinyl, I would like you to make me one."

Vinyl's eyes grow wider than her signature shades. "You... tech... want... and... drop... bass..." And for the second time in as many minutes; the DJ bleats and falls over, a smile plastered on her face.

Neither of the other ponies react this time. A flash of lightning and the resulting thunder breaks the prone mare from her brain-lock. She promptly throws her forelegs around the gray mare's neck and gives her a long, drawn out kiss. "I've never been more attracted to you than I am right now."

Lyra clears her throat, Octavia blushes. "Remember, company Vinyl..."

Red flushes across the face of the DJ, "Right. If you don't mind then I'll get started." Her horn ignites and emits a blue beam, scanning the iHand from end to end. "Wow, this is some sort of tech. I don't think I can remember all of this." She looks over to Lyra and asks, "You mind sticking around longer so I can continue to scan while I work?"

Another peel of thunder echoes through the town. "That would be fine; I don't want to go out in this storm anyways."

With a manic look in her eyes, the same blue aura encases the hand and the DJ rushes towards her workroom. Just as the door closes, a burst of maniacal laughter erupts from it.

"Should we be worried?”

"No, it is just Vinyl being Vinyl. So, how is Bon Bon these days?"

The sounds of the lab are drowned out by the raging storm outside and the echoing laughter of the mad mare working there. The only light comes from the faint blue glow of her magic, the sparks of a welder, or the bright flashes of lightning.

"I'll need that... can't forget that... gotta drop that..."

More flashes, sparks, and laughter echo through the small chamber. The DJ, hard at work, begins a slow chant, each repeat speeding it up until it blends into itself.

"Wub...... wub...... wub... wub... wub... wub.. wub. wub.wubwubwubwubwubwubwubwub-"

Standing on her hind legs, a flash of lightning backlights her form in stark contrast. She throws her head back and screams triumphantly. "It's alive! It's alive! Tavi, it's alive!"

A twitching hand lies on the bench next to the iHand.

The storm's fury slows as the blue-maned unicorn levitates both hands towards the chatting pair of ponies.

"Ladies, may I present," she starts, setting down the iHand and levitating the new hand while turning it around slowly so all parties can see it, "Octavia's new hand."

"You did a remarkable job there, Vinyl," the lyrist states as she levitates her own hand back onto her hoof.

"Yes, I do agree. While I think the blue will not match my coat very well, I do like the black treble clef on the back of it."

"Hey, what's wrong with blue? It happens to match my mane perfectly."

"Yes, yes." Octavia takes the hand in her hoof and turns it over, discovering a large black circle in the center of the palm. 'What's this?" she says, indicating the disc.

"Just a speaker with an integrated mini-subwoofer."

The other two mares give her an incredulous look.

"You put a bass in-"

"-her hand?" Lyra finishes the statement.

"Yes, you don't have to thank me." Vinyl responds, “But you can if you want.”

Once again, the two unamused mares roll their eyes.

"So, mine-” Lyra gestures to the iHand on her hoof “-is charged with lightning magic, I would assume Octavia's is the same?"

"Nope. I'm no good with lightning beyond light shows, so I tweaked its crystal to store and draw energy from low amplitude sound waves. This means it can charge while you're making music with it."

Octavia almost drops her new hand. "You mean it's... it's... it's powered by bass?!"

Viynl smiles, “Yup, it wubs them.”

"Drop It!"

"Drop It"

Octavia sets the hand down, exchanging it for her cup of tea, and continues to stare incredulously at the white Unicorn standing on the other side of the table.

"Aww yeah. I can drop some sick beats and you can-" Vinyl gives Octavia a double waggle of her eyebrows, "-get charged off it. It’s a win-win situation."

The light stone gray pony’s cheeks show the slight blush she is trying to desperately hide behind the cup. "Yes Vinyl, that is a possibility, but-" clearing her throat, "-please try to maintain yourself." Octavia gestures with her hoof, "We do have company over."

The howling wind outside and occasional clap of thunder do little to cover Lyra's chuckles at Octavia's frustration. She can't help but think about Bon Bon and be amused by the interaction between the Cellist and the DJ. Smiling, the mint green mare speaks between the escalating thunderclaps, "I don't mind. I find it nice to know that you're not always a huge stick-in-the-mud Octavia," her voice laced with enough sugar to fell Pinkie Pie.

Vinyl snorts, spitting out a little of the chilled amber liquid she'd been taking an occasional sip of. "I know right?" She trots over to the couch. "If it weren't for her home life," the DJ leans against Octavia, wrapping her right foreleg around her, "I'd think the reason she can stand up straight while playing-" she pats Octavia's shoulder, "-is a giant stick up her rump." Good natured laughter erupts from the two unicorns, while the loan earth pony scowls at them. A flash of lightning backlights Octavia, giving her a more menacing look.

Removing the DJ's hoof from around her, she raises the cup to her mouth. "Vinyl, you're sleeping on the couch tonight." Octavia takes a sip of her tea as Vinyl's ears lay flat against her head in a hurt manner, her eyes growing larger than would seem possible. Octavia gives her a quick glance. "Sorry, that won't work on me. Now," raising the hand, "how do I use this?"

Back in her zone, the white unicorn perks right up, levitating the entire table to the side, presenting a wide open space for them to work in. “Well, first put it on your right hoof," grabbing the hand from Octavia's grasp and sliding it onto the cellist's hoof, "like so and then-" pressing a button near the hoof-line, "-press here and the hand secures itself. Now take it for a spin."

Turning her hoof to stare at the foreign object now attached to hit, Octavia begins to move it when she stops. "Lyra, would you be a dear and step back, I do not want you getting injured if this should blow up in our faces."

"Hey, I'm offended that you think so lowly of my creations, Tavi."

Hearing this, the mint-green Unicorn puts a few body lengths between her and the daring pair of mares. "Good luck with your hand, Octavia."

Exchanging knowing nods between them, Octavia concentrates and uses the hand to grasp a tea cup set on her end table. "This isn't so ba-" The hand contracts, crushing the delicate china into hundreds of fragments and spilling the warm liquid all over the carpet, "-aaaaaah…" Octavia freezes, staring at the broken cup.

Looking between Octavia and the mess Vinyl raises her signature shades, "I'm going to have to check my notes."

Levitating the hand off the still stunned mare, Vinyl sets takes it and heads back to her work room, "This won't take long."

Snapping out of the shock, Octavia whips her head towards the retreating unicorn, giving her a stare that could melt stone, "Vinyl Sonorous Scratch, you come back here this instant and clean this up!"

Waving her hoof nonchalantly, the DJ stops at the door to the workshop, "Technological advancement now," she steps through the doorway, "ancient artifacts later." The closing of the door finishes her statement with a thud.

"Ancient Artifact? ANCIENT ARTIFACT?! That was from my Great Grandmother's tea set. It’s a family heirloom." The irate earth pony begins to stomp towards the door but finds her leg wrapped in Lyra's familiar shimmer of golden magic.

"Octavia, why don't you calm down and take a seat while Vinyl adjusts your hand?"

Octavia glances at the pile of dust, "But…but…"

Lyra looks down and smiles, "Don't worry. I've broken enough things at home that I've had to learn a spell to mend them or we'd have gone destitute replacing everything."

The amber glow recedes from Octavia's leg and engulfs what used to be the cup. A tornado of energy and particles rises from the floor, spiraling towards the table. The cyclone collapses releasing a vibrant flash that temporarily blinds the two mares.

Blinking repeatedly, Octavia looks towards the table, "Did it work?"

"I'm not sure; I'm still waiting for my vision to clear."

A few seconds of blinking later and they see the fruit of Lyra's spell.

"It’s perfect, thank you!" The happy mare wraps Lyra in a crushing hug.

"Oct..via…can't-" she forces out, "-can't breathe…earth…pony…"

Realizing what she's doing, the gray mare releases her friend, "My utmost of apologies. Sometimes I forget my own strength."

Lyra raises her hoof and waves it, "It’s fine," she takes a deep, steading breath, "I'm just glad I could help."

Octavia bumps the table while sitting down causing the cup's handle to fall off. Before Lyra can say anything, Octavia intercedes, "I'll get the glue…"

Thirty minutes later the sound of the storm slowly fades, replaced by a steady beat emanating from the back room. The two mares in the sitting room are barely aware of it until the insulated door swings open and the full force of the music assaults their ears.

"It sounds like Vinyl has completed the adjustments." Octavia yells, "Let us hope we do not have need of your mending spell this time, Lyra."

Thankfully for the two's ringing ears the noise soon dies down. The music is replaced by the sound of the door shutting and hooves on wood. The white unicorn canters towards them with the hand wrapped in her signature magical glow.

Lyra adjusts her position, "So, Vinyl, did yah manage to fix Octavia's hand?" Getting off the couch, the mint green unicorn hops over to look at the hand.

"Aww yeah. I got it this time," she sets the hand onto the gray mare's right forehoof, securing it with a hiss of gas. "I forgot to account for Tavi's magic."

Lyra nods her head, but Octavia's puzzlement shows she doesn't understand, "Magic? Outside of the base pony magic I don't have any."

Shaking her head the DJ continues, "What did they teach you in school, Treble Clef? I mean what the hay?"

"I beg your pardon, but I attended the most prestigious music school in all of Manehatten," the earth mare spits back.

Sighing, the unicorn face-hoofs, "Those focused schools always miss the basics. Your hooves baby, your hooves." Not letting her rant be interrupted Vinyl continues, "Pegasus magic is in the wings, Unicorn magic is in the horn, and Earth Pony magic is in the hooves." She points her hoof at the mare in question, "It lets them tend the plants and gives them their freakish strength…" she doubles back, "Um...no offense."

"None taken." Octavia examines her hand, grasping the situation, "If I understand correctly, my dear unicorns, the reason I pulverized the cup was because of the magic in my hoof, yes?"

Jumping into the conversation, Lyra happily answers, "Yup! All my hoof has is the ambient pony magic," Flexing her forelegs as best she can and doing a very bad Haystrian accent, "yours are filled with awesome earth pony magical might!"

Vinyl bursts into laughter, which is swiftly joined by Lyra's guffaws.

"I'm surrounded by comedians," Octavia deadpans. "Now, if you two are done, shall we get onto making sure these modifications work?

"Trust me, Tavi," Vinyl brushes her electric blue mane back and wipes a tear from her eye, "It'll work. Now -" grabbing the empty teapot in her blue magic and tosses it at Octavia, "-catch."

Not thinking but acting, the earth pony grabs the flying projectile in her hand. "What do you think you are doing?!” The irate mare holds the pot in her hand and gestures at it with her other hoof, "This is an antique!"

"Chill, looks it’s fine. Not like you broke it or anything."

Octavia looks down at the teapot and the hand holding it. "I see," she takes a calming breath; "It looks like the adjustments you made are adequate."

"Neat, we're handmates now!" the bubbly mint unicorn exclaims.

A small smile graces Octavia's mouth, "To a point, I guess so."

"Enough chit-chat," Vinyl wrenches the teapot from Octavia's hand, "let’s try out that bass." The DJ looks at Lyra, "You may want to backup."

Lyra backs up towards the door again as Vinyl trots to the kitchen and retrieves a class of water.

"Now Tavi, stand like you do when you play your cello and aim the bass on the hand-" the DJ sets the glass onto an end table directly across from the gray mare "-at this glass of water."

Hesitantly, Octavia assumes her standard position and raises her right foreleg towards the glass. "Like this?"

"Yup, now imagine forcing your strength into your right forehoof and you should release a small shockwave that should agitate the water."

Octavia scrunches her face, "I'm trying, but nothing's happening."

"Try harder."

Beads of sweet roll down her face as she focuses and tries her best to force it and grunts, "It’s not working."

Lyra begins to speak, but Vinyl gives her a wink, "Oh come on babe, you're not trying hard enough. I mean, remember that thing you said couldn't be done the other night? We made it happen."

Octavia blushes, "VINYL SCRA-" A sonic shockwave pulses from the hand interrupting her words. The glass of water shatters. Octavia is knocked off her hooves, into the couch, and then into the wall.

"OCTAVIA!" a noticeably paler Vinyl screams as she rushes over to the debris. "Please be okay." She grabs a fire extinguisher from where the couch once sat and drags it to her with magic. Taking aim, she prepares to spray the inevitable fire.

Shakily, Octavia gets back on her hooves. "I'm fin-" her statement interrupted as the frantic DJ sprays her head to tail in white foam.

Lyra, broken from her stupor by the incident, grabs one of the towels from earlier and starts to clean up her friend.

"Oh Celestia, I'm sorry. I didn't know that would happen. Please," she takes a ragged breath, "forgive me."

"I'm fine Vinyl, albeit sticky, but my Earth Pony durability saved me from any real harm." Looking at the ruined couch behind her, she adds "Though I cannot say the same for our couch."

Looking at the couch, the DJ's ears flatten against her head. "Yeah, I'll get it replaced in the morning. I think we need more quills for composing anyways." She looks at their guest, "Lyra thanks for the cool toy and the help, but it looks like the storm's stopped now. Bon Bon’s probably wondering where you went."

Setting the towel down, the other unicorn looks outside, "You're right on both counts. Bonny tends to think I'm getting into trouble when I'm out late." She turns towards the door, levitating her saddlebags onto her back, "Thanks for the tea and take care."

Octavia finishes brushing herself off, "Thank you, I will try. Also, do try and be on time for tomorrow's practice."

"I'll try." She opens the door and takes a step out before stopping and turning towards them. "Why was there a fire extinguisher under the couch?"

The gray mare answers, "We have five."

Her ears flared, Vinyl puffs her chest out, "On this floor alone!"

"If I might ask, why?"

Octavia turns to Vinyl, "How many of your creations have exploded in the past two weeks?"

Flattening her ears to the side of her head again, the DJ's response is barely over a whisper, "seven…fifteen if you count ones that just burst into flames."

Lyra looks at the pair with a slightly cocked head, "Well, I guess that explains that." Waving her hand over her head she continues, "See you tomorrow, Octavia, and see you around, Bug Eyes."

"Catch yah 'round the flip side, Harpass." The amber magic of the departing unicorn closes the door to the house.

"Now Vinyl, would you mind taking this," she removes the hand and sets it down on the floor, "and adjusting the bass so that this does not happen again?"

"Sure, Tavi, I'll adjust it and then come up to bed."

Octavia turns towards the staircase, "You are still sleeping on the couch tonight."

"But…but it’s a pile of firewood now."

With a playful smile on her face she turns towards the downtrodden unicorn, "Not my problem."

Taking the hand in her blue aura, the DJ heads towards the back room to adjust the hand and inflate the air mattress.

"That is, unless you can beat me upstairs."

The white pony's ears perk right up and the hand is sent through the air to land on top of the dishwasher in the nearby kitchen. “Don't have to tell me twice." The chuckling gray mare is swiftly passed by a blue and white blur, the sound of rapid hoof falls on the wooden steps and floor telling of her haste.

Sighing to herself, she speaks in a loving whisper, "You're a fun loving, irresponsible goof, but you are my lovable goof."

In the skies above the sleeping town of Ponyville an exhausted Thunderlane collapses onto one of the last remaining clouds. "That was one hell of a storm." He looks left, right, up, and down, "I should get a damn medal for handling it on my own. Punishment my ass."

He pulls back his left foreleg.

"Stupid Rainbow Dash."

He slams it into the cloud: The cloud beneath him thins.

"Stupid mares."

He slams his right foreleg into the cloud: More cloud gives way.

"Stupid black claw thingy!"

He slams both front legs into the cloud in angry frustration as the remnants of the cloud begin to break apart.

"That made me-" the cloud fully dissipates and the luckless pegasus plummets to the muddy ground below, nearly drenching a passing Lyra as a deep puddle breaks his fall "-feel better."

"Oh hey, Thunderlane, nice of you to drop by," the chipper unicorn exclaims.

Getting up, Thunderlane shakes the mud from his dark coat and tries to put on the best front he can for the mare, "Hah, I guess I did drop by."

Raising her hand towards the Dusky stallion, Lyra waves, "Anyways, it’s late and I should get home. Good work on the storm!" Lyra trots off, waving her hand the entire way.

"Thanks." The pegasus responds, looking up just in time to see the iHand attached firmly to Lyra's hoof as she disappears into the darkened streets. "Wait… That was the claw!" He thinks for a moment. "It's her fault. It’s all her fault." His bright smile returns, but this time with a slight twist of a snarl. "And tomorrow the entire town will know it!"

Still too tired to fly, but with a new spring in his step the stallion walks towards his home that floats on the outskirts of the town.

The next morning the sun dawns over Ponyville, its rays slowly evaporating the remnants of the previous night's storm. The early rising shop ponies begin their days with little care of the increasing humidity or muddy roads. They do what they always do, with joy in their hearts and a song in their head. With practiced ease the myriad of mares and stallions brush leaves from their stalls, setup their signs, and place fresh goods onto the counter for the inevitable crowds to peruse. Little is spoken in regards to the chaos that occurred the previous morning: It's Ponyville after all, where chaos is a daily occurrence.

With time to spare after having just set her last flowers out, Rose canters over to the Apple family stand to get one of their fresh apples for breakfast.

With a friendly wave she addresses the merchant, "Morning Applejack, it’s nice to see you in town this morning."

"Mornin', Rose." she nods, "I was supposed ta have been here yesterday, but Big Mac had some business in town so he came instead a me."

Rose chuckles, "It’s kind of good he did, we had some trouble yesterday with Thunderlane."

Snorting slightly the farm mare retorts, "Mac told me about that durned chicken. It’s a good thing Mac was here or," the orange mare turns and makes a bucking motion, "I'd have bucked him inta next week." Calming down, the orange pony turns back to Rose, "Anyways, what can I do ya for?"

"I'll just take an apple."

Applejack Reaches for one of the larger Fuji apples and tosses it to Rose. "It's on the house Rose, fer havin ta deal with Thunderlane yesterday."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Seven deep bongs from the clock tower echo across the square, "Wish I could stay and chat, but it looks like we'll have customers any moment now." With a nod of her head Rose canters back to her stall, enjoying the apple as she goes.

A few blocks away from the market another morning ritual is beginning.

An upper floor window opens as Vinyl Scratch sticks her head out, "Good morning, Ponyville!" she screams as a resounding bass thud resonates across the neighborhood. Leaving the window open to let the breeze flow through, the DJ heads to the kitchen to give her morning sermon.

"Door locked, let’s rock." The DJ throws a switch and the house is suddenly bombarded by tremors originating from the dishwasher. Octavia's hand, left there from the night before, vibrates as well. Upstairs an angry grunt can be heard from Octavia, who unlike the unicorn is not a morning pony.

Standing in the middle of the room Vinyl watches as a cloud of her magic dances across the kitchen making breakfast for the pair. Eggs are scrambled in their shells by one of the DJ's sonic creation as toast is buttered.

Vinyl yells upstairs, "Breakfast will be ready soonish, Tavi," another flash of her magic and the coffee pot begins disgorging its rich ambrosia.

A few minutes later and the noise subsides, the dishwasher's job done and the dishes cleaned at the microscopic level. The silence lasts for mere moments as it’s broken by Octavia's hooves on the wooden stairs.

A long yawn escapes the gray earth pony as she rubs some sleep from her eyes, "Must you always make a racket so early Vinyl?" She stifles another yawn, "Some ponies like to sleep in."

The DJ sets the breakfast on the table, her magical aura dissipating like morning dew. She adjusts her shades, rears back and speaks, "But Tavi, Bass is god and I'm its pope!"

Octavia doesn't reply at all, she just sits down and drinks her coffee. Minutes pass with only the occasional sounds of summer insects and the clanking of silverware on plates as the pair enjoys their breakfast in silence. Finished, Octavia carries her dishes to the sink, but instead sets them on the counter.

"Vinyl, you ran the dishwasher, yes?"

"Of course, didn't you hear it running?"

"Indeed, I did, but pray tell, why is the sink still full of dishes?"

Vinyl's magic creates a glowing 0 in mid-air. "Let’s see, I loaded it after dinner, but then there was my pre-bed snack-" the number changes to 1, "-my pre-midnight snack," 2, "my post-midnight snack," 3, "pre-breakfast snack," 4, "and then breakfast." The number changes to a large glowing 5. "So, um, yeah, 5 sets of dishes."

Octavia face-hoofs, "And how is it you don't look like a blimp?"

"Dunno, how does Pinkie stay in shape?"

"Point." Octavia refills her mug, "Still, please unload, load, and…uggg…fire…the dishwasher" She sets the coffee mug onto her back as she heads out of the kitchen, "I will be in the study reviewing my solo piece for tonight."

"Gotcha, Tavi, I'll cast a silencing charm around the study. That'll keep the wubs down." The DJ's horn glows and a sheen of blue magic condenses over a door on the far side of the main room. "Have fun. After I finish here I'll be in my workshop tinkering. Come get me if you need me." The DJ begins the task of cleaning the kitchen as the earth mare heads to review her sheet music. The hand sits forgotten on top of the dishwasher.

A few hours later and the morning calm gives way to the hustle and bustle of the day. The market is in full swing and the bartering voices merge with the sounds of commerce, creating a music all its own. Visitors disembarking from the trains are greeted by the lively tune and some join in, adding their unique accents and mannerisms to the tableau. Other than the humidity, everything and everypony was doing just fine.

A small unicorn filly, no older than those in Ms. Cheerilee's class approaches Rose's stall, "Ma'am, may I please get one of your Lilies?" She speaks in a sophisticated Manehatten accent, "My mother loves them oh so much and I would like to get her one."

Rose can't help but smile, "Of course." She grabs one of her most vibrant Lilies and hands it to the filly who easily grabs it in her magic. "That will be one bit."

The young pony retrieves the proper amount and levitates it to the counter, "Thank you, Ma'am." She sets the flower into her saddlebag, "I’d best be going; my mother only gave me fifteen minutes to look around before we catch our connecting train." And with that the filly runs off towards the train station.

Still smiling, the cream colored earth mare nudges the bit into the cash box. That was just adorable, she thinks to herself. While that lily is normally three bits, I just had to give her a discount. Looking at the clear sky she sighs, "I'm glad today is so much more normal."

A small cloud in the distance starts making its way to the market place. Many ponies discount it as a pegasus providing their own napping location; probably Rainbow Dash. The cloud settles over the center and Thunderlane extricates himself from his disguise. Turning his back on the cloud, the dusky pegasus rears back and delivers a grand kick to the cloud, releasing a deafening clap of thunder. All eyes in the market turn towards him and the cloud.

Rose jerks her head towards the noise in shock. "The hay?" Her eyes settle on the stallion and in an instant her good mood is gone, replaced by anger, "What the hay does he want?"

Thunderlane momentarily basks in the attention, but quickly returns to his task. Clearing his throat he speaks, "Citizens of Ponyville! I come not to apologize for what occurred yesterday, but to reveal the true," he dodges a rock, "true culprit." He lowers himself closer to the ground, "We need to find Lyra! It was her fault!"

The crowd murmurs in confusion. An unknown voice comes from the crowd, "How is it Lyra's fault? She wasn't even here."

The crowd’s murmurs turn to anger as another voice chimes in, "Yeah, if you're going to use a scapegoat, at least choose somepony that was here!"

"I swear it was her, or at least her fault." He clears his throat, "I saw a black claw causing all of the havoc and Lyra had a black claw on last night when I saw her." The crowd looks in disbelief. "I swear it was the One-Clawed mare! The One-Clawed Mare!"

Drawn by the thunderclap, the pegasus twins Flitter and Cloudchaser approach Thunderlane from above. With a quick nod between the two they wrap their fore hooves around Thunderlane's own and begin to drag him off. Cloudchaser whispers into Thunderlane's ear, "Cool it, you can go crazy later. No sense in blaming an innocent pony with something so outlandish".

The younger of the two, Flitter, addresses the crowd below, "My apologies, everypony. Thunderlane here has taken too many blows to the head and doesn't know what he's saying. We'll take it from here."

"I Swear on Celestia that it was the One-Clawed Mare!" Thunderlane screams as he struggles against the surprisingly strong mares.

"Aw cool it yah hothead," yells Applejack.

"No, you cool it! I know what I saw. It was the One-Clawed M…" His rant is cut short as an apple launched by a powerful buck strikes him in the head, knocking him out. The twins shrug and carry their now unconscious passenger to the locker rooms.

Turning her head towards her sister, Cloudchaser poses the question on both their minds, "So, where we gonna dump him? He needs to wake up."

Thinking for a minute, Flitter comes to an idea, "I know, it’s still early; we can dump him in the showers and set it on cold. That should wake him up."

"But the stallion locker room doesn't have showers.”

"So? Like I said, it’s still early. We can drop him in the mares’ showers, grab some ice, and then take him to the common room when he wakes up. Nopony will be the wiser."

"Good idea!"

Their choice made, the twins arrive at the locker rooms and set their cargo down in the showers, leaving just as the cold water begins to cascade over the prone stallion. They head for their next stop, the kitchen, for the ice bags.

Opening the chest where the myriad sizes of ice bags are stored, Cloudchaser grabs one of the larger ones with her mouth. Next to her, Flitter looks over a flier stuck to the large staff fridge.

Reading it, Flitter's mouth begins to water, "Oh, it looks like Pinkie is debuting a new über muffin this morning, let’s go check it out."

Cloudchaser drops the bag onto the floor and trots over to the fridge, "Let me see." After a quick read her stomach growls. "Yeah, let’s go."

The two mares rush out, the thought of a good breakfast pushing the Stallion and the melting ice bag out of both their minds.

"I feel pretty." A voice sings.

"Huh? What?" The groggy stallion spits out, "Where am I?"

"Oh so pretty," the voice continues.

Thunderlane looks around, noticing the running water, the clouds, and more importantly the lavish fixtures.

"I feel pretty and witty and bright."

His face pales.

"And I pity."

I'm in the mares’ locker room. How did I end up in the mares’ locker room?

"Any girl who isn't me tonight."

And who is singing? She has a nice voice though. Breaking his contemplation he turns off the water and slowly tries to creep out of the dangerous location he awoke in.

His hoof falls betray him, "Is anypony there?" He recognizes that voice. The other shower turns off, "If you are, you didn't hear anything, got it?" Thunderlane gulps as the mare comes out dripping wet.

Being a healthy stallion he can't control himself as his wings snap to full attention. The gust the action creates blows the towel off of the mare's multi chromatic mane.

Rainbow Dash smirks, "Hay yeah I know I' fine, but try and reign it in." She blinks a few times as she recognizes the other pony. With venom in her voice she speaks a single word, "Thunderlane."

"Um…hi?"

Halfway across town at Sugarcube Corner, the late-morning rush is in full swing as the Cakes and their live-in assistant Pinkie Pie move back and forth between the kitchen and counter. Every trip making sure there is a constant stream of baked goods flowing to the waiting customers. Sitting at one of the far corner tables are the twins Flitter and Cloudchaser, enjoying the large muffin they had recently purchased.

Flitter takes a break from the über muffin and casts a quick glance over to the clock, "We should get going sis; we've been here for 30 minutes already. Any longer and we'll be late for work."

Taking a drink of water to help swallow the remnants of her most recent portion, the elder sister responds, "You're probably right. I'll go ask the Cakes for a to-go bag." Cloudchaser gets up and heads toward the counter, while Flitter is left with the remaining portion of muffin, with half of it gone it’s still the size of a stallion's head.

Flitter hums a little tune to herself as she ponders out loud, "I feel like I've forgotten something."

At the counter, Cloudchaser waits for a free moment to ask for the bag. Seeing Mrs. Cake take a quick breather between customers, she waves her hoof to get the older mare's attention.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Cake?"

Looking around, Cup Cake spies the pegasus and trots on over, "How can I help you dear? Not here for another muffin are you?" she chuckles at an unsaid joke.

Looking over her shoulder at her waiting sister she shakes her head, "No, we actually need a to-go bag. There is no way we can finish it before work."

"Yes, it is a rather ambitious creation, but Derpy has already ordered one a day for the next 4 weeks." They both laugh as the mailmare's love of the baked good is well known. Still chuckling, Cup Cake gets the bag and hoofs it to Cloudchaser. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, I'll try." She trots back to the table where Flitter quickly helps her move the muffin into the bag. Shortly thereafter the two of them exit the building, heading back to the locker rooms. On their way out they pass Lyra, who gives them a casual wave with her hand.

Seeing the muffin laden bag, the mint unicorn only gets hungrier. I can't wait to order one of those. Waiting her turn, Lyra passes the time by counting on her fingers.

Mr. Cake addresses the absent minded unicorn, "Good morning, Lyra. How can I help you?

"Huh?" she looks up at Carrot Cake, "Oh, sorry. Can I get one of those large muffins?"

The lanky earth pony thinks for a moment, "We don't have any right now, but let me check with Pinkie to see if there are any in the oven."

"Okay."

The stallion disappears behind the cantina doors and reappears moments later, "You're in luck, we have two of the chocolate chip oatmeal über muffins just about ready." He looks at the clock, "It'll just be a couple minutes."

Lyra smiles and bounces slightly, "Okay. I can wait. Could you make it to-go? I want to share it with some friends."

"Gotcha." He taps the register some, "That'll be 20 bits."

Lyra uses the iHand to open her saddlebag and removes the needed bits.

Mr. Cake looks at the iHand curiously "What is that on your hoof, Lyra?"

"Oh, it’s my hand," she says as if it’s obvious.

"I see." He watches as she sets the bits onto the counter and then scratches her chin. "That’s interesting, why would you nee-" his sentence is interrupted by the cry of his twin foals. His wife hurriedly trots into the nursery to attend to her babies. That sounded like a diaper cry, he thinks to himself. "You know, for us earth ponies that might not be such a bad thing. Changing diapers…pulling baked goods out of the oven…all with your mouth." he rattles off a few more uses in his head before continuing, "where do you think I could get one?"

"Well, I found mine, but I bet Vinyl would be willing to make you one like she did for Octavia."

"Hmm, I bet I could swing a deal with her. Thanks."

A pink blur appears with a box balanced on its head. "Hi, Lyra!" She deposits the box on the counter and is gone in the blink of an eye, a "Bye, Lyra!" reaches the counter shortly after the doors to the kitchen swing shut.

Looking at the package, the mint mare grabs it in her magic, "Thanks for the muffin. If I see Vinyl, I'll let her know you'd be in the market for one of these hands." She levitates the package onto her back and trots off as Mr. Cake begins to help the next customer.

Lyra looks at the central clock tower and nods her head, "Yup, I'm going to be early for rehearsal today and I'm bringing food." Thinking about the treat, she almost walks into Berry Punch, one of the local beverage vendors. "Oh, sorry BP, I was thinking about this new muffin and completely spaced out.”

The slightly stumbling mare looks at Lyra with half glazed eyes, "No problem, I wasn't looking where I was going either." Tapping her hoof to her head, the mare thinks for a bit, "Wait, you play with Noteworthy, right?"

Lyra nods her head, "Actually I have practice with him and the rest of the ensemble later today. Why do you ask?"

Berry Punch roots around in her saddlebag and pulls out a large bottle of liquid. The fluid has no color of its own, but appears to split any light that passes through it into a brilliant rainbow spectrum. Setting the bottle down the Earth pony is once again free to speak. "I owe him this for a loss at poker last week. Think you can deliver it for me?"

Grabbing the bottle with the iHand, Lyra slides it into her saddlebag, "Sure, not a problem." She glances back at the bottle. "What is it, anyways?"

Looking back, it seems Berry Punch has already walked off. "Oh well," Lyra notes as she trots off to the hall.

Rainbow Dash marches back and forth in front of the three other pegasi standing in the planning room, her anger spent after reading Flitter, Cloudchaser, and Thunderlane the riot act for their respective behaviors. Stopping in front of the twins, she snaps to attention. "Girls, what part of leaving an unconscious pony unattended under running water made sense?"

Straightening up, Flitter and Cloudchaser speak as one, "It didn't Ma'am!"

Rainbow Dash nods, "Correct, for that you two will have to pull a double shift for the next week." The two chastised mares’ ears flatten against their heads, "You'll be working the six hour midday and midnight shifts." She looks each in the eye, "Is that understood?"

The twins respond in unison, "Yes Ma'am!"

"Good", Rainbow Dash turns ninety degrees and trots down to Thunderlane, who straightens up as she approaches. "As for you, you will work a single nightshift with the twins."

He looks taken aback, "Why? What did I do?"

Dash looks him straight in his eyes, "You tried to blame an innocent pony for your behavior yesterday."

"But…"

"No buts! You're better than this. We're better than this. As your supervisor, your behavior is treated as my behavior. I expect nothing but perfection from this weather team. Thunderlane, how many from our team got accepted to the academy?"

"Five Ma'am." The stallion responds quickly.

"Correct. We've churned out a lot of Wonderbolt prospects and I intend to keep doing it. Do all three of you understand?"

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am." The trio of chastised pegasi respond.

Her voice drops to a whisper that only the stallion can hear, "And if I find out you told any pony about what you overheard I will knock you down to snowflake counter next winter. Understood?" Thunderlane nods in assent. She trots to the center and turns her back on them, "Dismissed."

Less than an hour later at the Scratch/Melody house, Octavia is preparing to leave for the pre-show rehearsal. She casually looks at the large grandfather clock to check the time as she gathers her spare strings and tuning key.

Mentally checking each item off, the earth pony is down to the last one. "Vinyl? Where's that hand you crafted for me?"

The DJ doesn't answer. Looking towards the workshop, Octavia notices that the door is shut. Shaking her head a little, she trots over and opens the door.

"Vinyl, where did you place my hand after you made the adjustments?"

Vinyl looks up from her current project and thinks to herself, crap, I never did tweak it. "I put it on top of the dishwasher," she responds. Not like she'll trigger it again. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

Setting down the electronic device she is working on, the white unicorn heads out the door after the cellist. "Oh, Tavi, I meant to show this to ya last night, but I forgot when the couch…issue… happened."

The earth pony sets the hand down and turns towards Vinyl. "Oh? What pray tell is that?"

The DJ grins, "Oh, you'll love it." She levitates the hand, "Raise your hoof, you're wearing it to the rehearsal."

"While I saw Lyra walk in it with some effort, I cannot walk with three legs whilst carrying my cello."

"See, that’s another place where this differs from that iHand of hers." The DJ slips the hand onto Octavia's raised hoof, "It has a walk mode"

Octavia is rather confused at this, "‘Walk mode’?"

"Yup," the energetic unicorn responds," Just press the button to the left of the release and it will fold around your forehoof and just the bass will be under your hoof," She levitates in a set of larger, dress, horseshoes, "about as thick as these."

Curious about this function, Octavia depresses the button with her other hoof and immediately a light next to the sonic crystal glows a bright orange. The sound of small motors and sliding parts fills the air as the hand transforms. The hand splits in half with one portion sitting snuggly against the foreleg. The palm rotates to align with the bottom of the hoof and is pulled taut. Finally, a protective iris door spirals to cover the sensitive portions of the bass. All complete, the red light turns green and then seconds later dims till it is off.

The DJ's smile is a mile wide, "See? Cool right?"

Placing some weight on the boot like device, the gray mare nods, "Indeed. Very cool." She looks at the three horseshoes that Vinyl had levitated into the main room, "I would assume I am to wear them with this?”

"Yep, unless you want to walk funny," Vinyl smirks, "like the other morning." She chuckles.

Octavia clears her throat, "Yes, like the other day when I fell asleep on the floor of my study."

"Oh, you're no fun."

Putting on the other shoes, Octavia secures her saddlebag as Vinyl levitates the cello case onto the earth pony's back, securing it with its strap.

Octavia turns towards the door, but twists her head to see the white unicorn, "I shall see you later tonight after the show."

"Take care, Tavi," the DJ smiles, "Bring the house down with your awesome music powered by an awesomer hand!"

Shaking her head in amusement, Octavia heads out to the venue.

At the show hall, Lyra has finished setting up the über muffin and two pitchers of ice water in the green room. Her saddlebag sits on the counter where she has easy access to it. The town clock releases one long chime followed by a shorter one indicating that it’s now 1pm, the designated time for everypony to gather for practice. The three other members of the group enter in short order, Octavia taking up the rear.

Happily Lyra greets them, "Yo, nice of y'all to join me."

The other musicians freeze in place giving the mint mare incredulous looks.

Octavia is the first to recover, "You're…you're…"

"Early," finishes Noteworthy. "Such a rare occasion." He glances over at the table where the food and drinks sit. "Ah, and you brought some refreshments; how thoughtful," he says as his bags are set onto the counter.

"Yup" Lyra says as she uses her iHand to grab a cup of water and take a drink.

Setting her cello down, Octavia turns towards the others, "Yes, very kind of you, but where did you get such a large muffin? Special order?"

Lyra shakes her head, "Nope, new item Pinkie Pie cooked up."

"Well, that makes sense," states Octavia plainly. "So, before we indulge, shall we practice?"

With a chorus of nods and ascents, they grab their respective instruments and head for the stage.

Four hours later the quartet is enjoying the über muffin as they make small talk.

Noteworthy sets down his water cup and sighs a bit, "I kinda hope Berry Punch has gotten in my special order." He takes another sip of water, "I was hoping to have some after finishing tonight’s show."

Lyra's ears perk up, "Oh, actually-" she levitates over her saddlebags, "-I think this may be what you are looking for." The mint unicorn rummages around for a moment before extracting the bottle of alcohol. "Here it is."

"That’s it!" He excitedly takes it in his hooves and inspects the bottle, "How did you wind up with it?"

"I 'ran' into BP on my way here and she asked me to give it to you." The mint unicorn looks at the bottle as the liquid splits the light into rainbows, "What is it?"

Noteworthy chuckles some, "It's a bottle of Dark Side of the Moonshine."

Thinking for a minute, Lyra responds, "I don't recognize it."

"I'm not surprised at all. This is from the first batch in over 1000 years." He holds the liquid to the light so that the full spectrum of colors shines across the room.

Having sat quietly, Octavia adds her own question, "1000 years? Really?"

Some more chuckles herald Noteworthy's response, "Well, the brew mistress kind of took an…ahem…extended…vacation."

Realization dawning on them, everypony has a nice laugh.

A few hours later outside of the concert hall, a trio of pegasi relax on a small cloud embankment, listening to the show through the open windows.

Flitter turns towards her sister, "Why are we out here, anyways?"

"Because the two of you almost killed me this morning." Thunderlane states bluntly.

"Oh right, so how about the weather?" Flitter continues without missing a beat. Thunderlane just rolls his eyes.

Cloudchaser answers with a yawn, "Nonexistent." She pats the cloud they are laying on, "If we'd not brought this from White Tail woods, we'd have no clouds to sit on at all."

Also bored, Thunderlane begins to do some tricks to work off some of the excess energy his impromptu nap earlier gave him. The twins roll over to watch his demonstration.

The music inside the hall reaches a crescendo as the quartet finishes performing their penultimate song. Octavia switches her hand into its regular mode and prepares for the final song, her solo.

"Good luck," whispers Lyra as Octavia takes center stage and draws her bow back.

Outside, the pegasus stallion has grown tired with his showboating and lands on the cloud, a flap of his wings moving it next to the wall so they can hear the cello better.

"So, Thunderlane," Flitter scoots up to the stallion, "I heard you're strong." She gives her sister a playful wink, "So strong in fact that I heard even the Wonderbolts are worried about you stealing their thunder."

Fully taken in by the mare's words the stallion smiles, "Yeah," Thunderlane gets up and slicks back his mane, "I'm kind of awesome." He poses as the cello's song reaches its peak.

Joining in on her sister's game, Cloudchaser jumps in, "Yeah," she makes a seductive pouty face, "how strong are you?"

Inside, Octavia and the audience are so caught up in the music that they do not notice the baleful red glow of the light emanating from her hand.

"How strong am I?" Thunderlane asks. "Strong enough to beat Horsepower in a lifting competition." Well, with wings only.

"Oh?" Flitter asks. "Then show us."

The song finishes and the crowd erupts into a thunderous applause. Octavia smiles at her bandmates.

"I would, but even the slightest hit from me would destroy this wall." He rears back in a mock buck, "Like this."

Octavia takes a sweeping bow, her hand ending with a flourish as the light on her hand dims and a thunderous noise echoes across the hall.

The wall explodes in a shower of wood and stone just as Thunderlane's mock buck lands. Flitter and Cloudchaser alternate their stares between the wall and the pegasus who kicked it. At the same time, all of the ponies in the concert hall are also looking at the stallion still in mid buck. Octavia only looks at her hand, wondering if it was her fault.

Still looking at the twins, Thunderlane states loudly and with every bit of cockiness he can muster: "See, I told you." The shouts of anger from the concert hall interrupt his revelry as he turns towards them. "I mean…Oops?"

Author's Note

Sorry for the large delay between chapters. Life got in the way and then I went ahead and rewrote a large portion of the first 3 chapters to better enhance the overall story.