Chapters From a young age, Octavia knew that all ponies were special in their own way. Unique, even. And that was perfectly fine. Normal.
Well understood was the fact that no two ponies were exactly alike, and for every genius, there was an idiot. For every exceptionally talented individual, there was one gifted with incompetence. For every pony that roused audiences with grace and splendor, there was one that dwelled alone and in silence.
And now and then, you had those who raised a sun or blew up a giant tree or something. Unusual, but otherwise natural.
These were things Octavia consistently had to remind herself more and more of these days, it seemed. And not for any particularly strong reason. No, not at all. These were perfectly normal things to dwell on. Everypony was unique, and special in their own way, and that was perfectly normal.
The fact that she awoke to discover she’d inexplicably grown a shark tail was completely irrelevant.
This is fine , she told herself, doing her best to ignore the bizarre, alien sensations of the long, gray appendage now replacing her once cute, fluffy tail. I am perfectly content with what is currently transpiring. Nothing about this is at all out of the ordinary.
She forced herself to smile, gazing into the mirror. Two rows of triangular, serrated teeth smiled back.
“Perfectly fine.”
Octavia turned and left the bathroom, her jaw still frozen in its brilliantly toothy display.
“Could not possibly be any more fine.”
She disregarded the tail, swaying about as she paced her bedroom. That dorsal fin she could feel jutting sharply out of her back? No, perfectly normal. Irrelevant was the fact that, the night prior, such features did not exist on her form. These things just happen.
Why, if it ever were more fine, I would go broke.
A mere dream. A random magical mishap — surely a clumsy unicorn accidentally hexed her at some point during the day, and it would soon wear off. Failing that, an act of Celestia herself, as a joke. A drunken hallucination. Someone slipped Poison Joke into her meals. A virus. Ninjas.
Second puberty, perhaps? Ponies get those, right?
She paused, resting a hoof on her mouth with a thoughtful hum. Surely her mother would have told her about such a thing at some point, wouldn’t she?
Octavia frowned and shook her head of the thought. No, no, it had to have all been her imagination. Perhaps stranger things have happened before, but now? To her, a simple earth pony? It escaped her comprehension. Nothing about it made sense.
But, obviously, everything was fine. It wasn’t real, after all. Why would it make sense? The realization struck her like lightning.
She almost laughed out loud. “What a dream indeed,” said Octavia, shaking her head and glancing back at the aquatic tail with a bemused expression. “I almost have to give it credit for how convincing it was. All that denial, that self-reassurance. Hah. Tremendous.”
The earth-bound mare turned to head back into the bathroom, gazing at her altered reflection in the mirror and flashing a knowing smirk at it. “Well played, oh subconscious mind of mine. Hah, to think, me, turning into...” She shook her head again, a chuckle escaping her throat. “Well, never mind that, now. Soon I will be awake, and this bizarre occurrence will be forever forgotten.”
She looked herself over in the mirror once more, tilting her head askew and running a hoof through her black, silky mane. Almost a shame, she inwardly mused, letting her tail sway. There is a certain elegance to the look, I confess. Certainly not one I would want to tout around in public. Yet, different though it is, one can still clearly see and feel “me” in it...
Octavia hummed, then shrugged, trotting out of the room once more. Not like it mattered much now, did it?
Everything was fine.
Yet, there was the matter of her obvious dream-state, which had yet to break. Even now, after having clearly written off this bizarre morning as being part of one already. The mare let out a dismissive “hmph”, cantering out of her room and down the stairwell. It would surely end sooner or later.
Entering the main room of her home as she came off the stairs, Octavia caught sight of — and sighed audibly at — another mare whom she shared her current house with. She could spot that white coat and messy bright-blue mane from a mile away. The mare known as DJ PON-3 to most (and Vinyl Scratch to others) was hunched over her workstation, busying herself with the sound equipment as usual.
No idea why I’m dreaming about her as well, but, I suppose I shall ‘roll’ with it.
The shades-wearing mare had to have heard Octavia coming down the stairs, as she very briefly glanced up at her as she approached. As usual, she said nothing, offering merely a wave of the hoof before looking down again.
Octavia rolled her eyes and smirked, walking past her toward the cupboards on the deejay’s ‘side’ of the room.
“A fine ‘how-do-you-do’ as well,” the gray mare said rather cheerfully, flicking her tail around as she dug through them. “For being in a dream, I must say, you are surprisingly... normal . I’m almost disappointed, honestly.”
Raising an eyebrow, Vinyl looked up again and turned toward her, mouth open and poised to reply. But no reply came, as she found herself staring, dumbfounded, at the shark-like tail and dorsal fin adorning her housemate’s body. Whom, at the moment, had her head and forelegs stuck into the open doors of her snack cupboards, rummaging through it.
Octavia must have noticed Vinyl’s lack of a response, as she eventually removed her head from them and turned to look at her, a bag of chips gripped tight in her sharp-toothed maw.
“Whffh?” she mumbled, staring back at the bespectacled mare with a raised brow of her own. She spat it out onto the floor, allowing herself the freedom to speak clearly once more. “Can’t a mare help herself to some treats, in the sanctity of my own imagination?”
No reply from Vinyl, still staring.
Silence prevailed between them for some time, before the pieces eventually clicked in Octavia’s head. “Oh, what, this? These?” she inquired, gesturing to the tail and her teeth, and letting out a laugh. “Well, I’m very sure you’d be curious about that. Perfectly natural. Obviously, I’m turning into a fish! A shark, specifically. What else could it possibly be?”
Vinyl re-adjusted her glasses, which had nearly slid off her muzzle by this point.
“Not that it matters in the slightest,” she continued, letting out another laugh — albeit a somewhat weaker, faltering one, under the duress of their mutual staring contest. “Because, well... this is all a dream! And why am I telling you this, anyway? I don’t know! I’m simply awaiting the moment I awaken from this troubled slumber of mine.”
The deejay’s hanging jaw of shock was replaced by a furrowed brow and frown, clearly concerned. She opened her mouth to speak, but was swiftly interrupted.
“A-and what else could it be? No pony I’ve ever known went to bed as one thing and woke up as another. Preposterous. The mere idea!”
She chuckled again, grinning a rather forced grin as she plopped her haunches onto the floor and started freely diving into the chips she had taken out, munching away noisily on them. Vinyl could only watch, blank and unsure, as her friend uncharacteristically indulged in junk food.
Rather bad-tasting junk food at that, Octavia herself noted.
But she ate anyway, if only because it could have helped to speed along her (hopefully imminent) awakening.
“Mmmmh! Mhs mh gufh!” she mumbled, her words indecipherable through mouthfuls of salt and starch. Curse my traitorous brain, why will it not wake and spare me this embarrassment?
Octavia grumbled impatiently, but continued her ‘feast’ unabated. Part of her wondered how Vinyl could stomach this garbage.
“Mmmh hmmf fu—MMH!”
Pain suddenly shot through her mouth, just as her teeth accidentally bite down into her tongue instead of—
Wait.
Pain?
She opened her mouth, the soreness of her tongue almost inexplicably vanishing in significance as the implications dawned on her.
Oh. Oh, no. I’d completely... oh no.
Of all the things she had considered. Of all the possible ways to ASSURE herself of the fact that she was dreaming. Of all the protocols and procedures to follow that she burned into her mind since she was a mere foal. Of all those and more, she had forgotten the single most important thing:
She never pinched herself.
The realization, coupled with the incredulous look Vinyl was giving her, was enough to set Octavia’s rapidly-crumbling world crashing down onto her all at once.
Everything was not fine.
Coming to terms with the fact that one has inexplicably turned into a sharkpony overnight is by no means a simple process. Rather, the exact opposite is true. Many steps are involved, some more demanding than others, but all must be taken at one’s own pace. For as fast, slow, as stagnant as the individual requires.
Naturally, Octavia proceeded rather swiftly through “shock”, had a brief altercation with “denial”, then skipped ahead to and got snagged on “despair”.
Screaming was involved, as well. Quite a lot of it.
“I’M A FREAK!” she shrieked for what was perhaps the sixth time, by Vinyl’s count. “A MONSTER! ABOMINATION! BEAST! I-I’LL BE OUSTED FROM SOCIETY! HUNTED! THINGS I CAN’T EVEN NAME! BAD THINGS!”
Despite the initial shock at seeing her friend in her current and particularly shark-y state, she evidently took it far better than Octavia herself was. Every opportunity Vinyl had to interject was quickly interrupted, keeping the deejay from getting a single word in edgewise.
“H-how in Equestria could this have happened?” the half-shark continued to wail and wonder aloud, having calmed down enough to no longer warrant unnecessary exaggeration. “This is impossible! When could this—how could—why?! Why now, and why like this? This doesn’t make any seeeeennnnse...”
Octavia moaned pitifully, slumping onto the floor with her hooves on her head. "I-I just need to relax," she whimpered. "Relax, and rationalize what little of it I can. Where was I last? The beach? P-perhaps I caught some kind of water-borne disease that turns ponies into sharks?!" The mare paused, then frowned and shook her head. "No, no, that's ridiculous. Even more so than that 'second puberty' theory. But if it's not that , and it's not poison joke, then what could it..."
She trailed off and sighed, covering her face with her hooves. “Of all the days something like this could happen, it had to be today ...”
Vinyl shook her head, taking a drink of her soda as she held it aloft with magic, and patting her friend’s back reassuringly for what was probably the sixty-fifth or so time.
“The one day, the day that’s been in preparations for weeks!” she continued, sniffling and looking up at Vinyl. “Not to mention one of my busiest days, never mind the most important! Surely you can understand, can you?”
The deejay only nodded, taking another sip of her drink.
“Of course! You, with all your — whatever it is you get caught up with. Music, electronics, pigging out on junk, and all that." Octavia sighed, then snorted, scowling a bit. “And then there’s me, with hardly a shred of time to myself. A concert at Town Hall, the usual shopping, and...”
She bit her lip — very gently — and looked up at Vinyl again.
“And—my parents, as well. Their visit. Today. You remember, don’t you?”
A sigh escaped Vinyl, and she nodded.
“Choice words would have been had if you didn’t,” Octavia muttered. “This is unbelievably important to me. I haven’t seen my mother in nearly a year, and my father...”
She trailed off, swallowing deeply and curling her tail a little. “My father, I haven’t seen him at all . Maybe when I was very young, but obviously I don’t remember those years quite as well anymore. I was always told he lived overseas, that he was unable to live with us, due to his ‘job’.”
Octavia pursed her lips, quiet for a moment. “I’ve never quite understood that reasoning,” she said. “But, that was then and this is now. For all intents and purposes, he’s practically a stranger to me. I have to make a good impression on him, but — with me, like this? ” She gritted her teeth and whipped her thick, aquatic tail around with a frustrated grunt, unintentionally slapping it against Vinyl’s flank. “What would my father say about me then? My mother, even? That their proud progeny is a fishy freak of nature? Something that belongs in a circus ? The local aquarium ?! I—”
The shark-mare caught herself, and sighed, standing up again.
“No, I — I shouldn’t think like that, should I?” she asked aloud, turning to Vinyl. “They’re my parents. Surely they wouldn’t disown me because of some slight, er, cosmetic alterations?”
Vinyl stared at her a moment, then shrugged.
“...Yes, you’re right,” Octavia said, “I should have nothing to fear from them, regardless of how the day progresses. And — and with any luck, I can get this fixed. Until then, I should just...”
She trailed off again, still looking at her friend. The deejay glanced from side to side, then shrugged again, taking another sip of her drink.
“Right, right. I should face the day. Regardless of the difficulties and all what-have-you. Simply remaining here and drowning my sorrows in solitude and tasteless junk food is... unbecoming of me.”
Vinyl stared at her, almost with a look of bemusement. She shook her head, finishing the rest of her drink and patting her friend’s back once more before standing up, heading off to the kitchen.
Feeling oddly reassured and encouraged, Octavia smiled.
“Strange as you can be, Vinyl, you are a such a good listener sometimes.”
Surprisingly, her traversal through Ponyville proper wasn’t quite as nightmarish as Octavia feared. Ponies did spare her some curious looks, a few even pointed her out, but many did not seem to focus on her. Or want to be near her at all. Which, all things considered, she was grateful for.
It’s never an issue to anyone unless it happens TO you, I suppose, she thought to herself.
Granted, she did have a few oddball encounters. Mostly ones of annoyance.
“No, for the fourth time, I do not know how I got like this.”
“But you’re like, part-shark, right? How are you even able to breathe on land?”
“I have lungs.”
“How fast can you swim?”
“Not very.”
“Oooh, can I touch your tail?”
“I would rather that you not.”
“Hey, it feels smooth! And wiggly!”
“What did I just finish saying.”
The three little headaches eventually got tired and left, much to Octavia’s relief. It was annoying to have to deal with, yes, but the pestering of a few foals is certainly preferable to a mob with pitchforks and torches, she reasoned.
On the way to the performance, she couldn’t help but notice how much easier it seemed to carry her cello case. Not that Octavia ever had difficulty with it before, but now it seemed effortless. Almost like the case she hefted on her back was empty, even though it did, in fact, contain her precious instrument.
Beyond that, she couldn’t help but notice that she felt... bigger? Slightly? Not enough to stand out, unless one were to stop and compare her with another mare, but enough to feel that she possessed more of a presence than usual. A presence that, oddly, didn’t seem to be attracting all that much attention.
She certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.
The Town Hall wasn’t terribly crowded when Octavia arrived, but she had arrived early, so this did not surprise her. She made haste toward the stage that had been set up in the main chamber, ignoring the odd looks from staff and early arrivals in the audience.
So far, no pitchforks , she noted, setting up her cello on the stage among her fellow musicians — none of whom spared her more than a passing glance — and set about tuning it properly. Not even any harsh, disparaging remarks. I’m actually rather impressed. Though, after everything we’ve endured in the town, I suppose a shark-pony WOULD be rather mundane by comparison...
To her satisfaction, basically nothing about her usual stance was altered by the obnoxious tail. If anything, there was a slight improvement . The thicker, longer appendage afforded her somewhat more balance control in her bipedal stance, she found. It took a bit of getting used to, but it was inconsequential.
“Interesting,” she muttered to herself, a smile gracing her muzzle as she looks down at herself, adjusting her posture a little. Not that I expected many problems here, no downsides are a welcome surprise all the same. I suppose this won’t be as bad as I feared, after all.
“Well, well, look who crawled out of the fish tank.”
Octavia frowned as her ears flattened, turning to the source of the voice. “Hello to you as well, Ms. Harp,” she said, glaring at her with gritted teeth. “I can see you somehow managed to wrench yourself away from your indulgences for more than a quarter-hour.”
“Hah! Very funny, Octy,” came the rude mare’s reply. “As usual, your biting sense of humor is all too present.”
The shark-mare’s tail flicked at that remark, rolling her eyes. “Can’t quite help it, seeing as how you insist on sticking your head into the completely metaphorical jaw. Be careful, as it might end up taking something away , one day.”
“Oh my, was that a threat?”
“I would consider it more of a friendly word of warning, Harp. Casual advice for a rainy day.”
“I’ll be sure to keep it in mind, Melody.”
Octavia clicked her tongue, shaking her head and returning focus to her own business. She knew that blue-coated mare with the harp cutie mark all too well. Symphony Harp, a prodigy of one of the many powerful Canterlot families, with a rich and illustrious history of magic, music, and fine arts of the highest caliber. Head of her class, perfect in every way, and most definitely not a cheap loser that still lived with her parents.
...That was how Harp described herself, anyhow. The truth was that she was naught more than a simple earth pony like Octavia, and one that placed well below herself and many others in the Academy, grade-wise. She did not deny that her talents had some musical merit, but certainly nowhere near enough to justify the head of hot air she possessed.
Same, irritating Symphony I always knew, she thought, casting another glance at the mare. Whom, not to much of Octavia’s surprise, was caught staring intently at her as their eyes met.
The gray mare quirked her brow. “Dare I even ask, is there a problem, Ms. Harp?”
“Oh, not at all, Octy," the harp-flanked mare retorted, a smirk gracing her features. "I just find it rather cute, how a fish like you is able to handle instruments. My, how times have changed.”
Octavia growled, baring her teeth at her before looking back to her own instrument. “Very funny, Symphony,” she muttered. To her slight satisfaction, she couldn't help but notice how the obnoxious mare had flinched at her aggressive display, then attempted to play it cool as she minded her own business, finally.
That is one mare I do not mind being afraid of me.
A glance at the clock indicated mere minutes until the show was due to start, and more and more ponies were already filing in. She felt fortunate that her place on the stage was near the back, out of sight. Even if there was never to be any angry, scared mobs, at least she was spared the personal embarrassment.
“Hey.”
The shark-mare gritted her teeth again, glaring at Symphony. “What.”
“Serious inquiry. How did you even get like that, anyway?”
“Magical mishap,” she snapped as a reply, almost without thinking. “A ‘prodigy’ like yourself should know all about those.”
“Ah.”
And that was all she had to say, apparently. Symphony returned to her business, as did Octavia to hers. Nothing more was said between them as the conductor took his place in front of the stage. The concert was finally ready to start. As she readied herself, she still could not help but wonder about that odd annoyance of a mare. And, thinking on it now, just how hungry she was starting to feel...
Hmm. Surely she would not be missed, would she?
In the end, the concert was a pleasant success. Perhaps not the single greatest thing to have graced the town, no. But it turned out quite a bit better than Octavia had anticipated. Not a single pitchfork nor torch in sight.
She didn’t eat Symphony, however. Despite how much she really, really wanted to. Beyond there not being any real opportunity to do so, it had quickly dawned on her just how abhorrent it was to think such things. She was supposed to be a pony, after all. Ponies don't eat meat. To do so would be simply barbaric. And yet, some part of her mind continually pushed her towards these thoughts.
Ugh, what is WRONG with me?
Her stomach, uncaring of her inner moral compass, continued to growl audibly as she made her way through the market district. She needed something to eat. And quite soon, too.
“Food,” she mumbled, wandering near a flower cart and turning to gaze at them hungrily. She glanced from side to side. Nopony was currently attending the stand. Surely they would not mind just a small sample, for the road?
Ensuring she wasn’t being watched, she quickly snapped her jaw shut around the bulbs of a few tulips, ripping them from their stems. She snatched up a few daisies in her mouth as well, quickly cantering away from the stand and out of sight as she chewed on her mouthful of plant matter, swallowing it down.
...Only to pause, and making a face of distaste as she gagged, spitting out a few of the petals that remained in her mouth. "Disgusting," she muttered, the aftertaste making its mark on her taste-buds. Either these were just bad ones, or...
“Hey! What happened to my flowers?”
The voice of the mare returning to her stand prompted the shark-mare to canter off in a hurry — quickly, but not desperately, which would make her more obvious — and leave the market square behind, not looking back until she was well away from it. She sighed, groaning a bit as her carnivorous stomach continued to rumble, clearly not amused by her pitiful offerings.
“I can’t even eat , now?” Octavia asked aloud, as if angrily demanding answers from her rebellious digestive tract. “Flowers? Hay-browns? Those awful chips? Nothing? Then what will satisfy you?!”
Just as the mare said that, she caught sight of a small, white rabbit, attempting to pull carrots out of a nearby flower box that somepony had planted. Cheeky little thief , she thought, scowling at the animal. The hypocrisy of her statement was lost on her mind as her stomach grumbled again, however, and she caught herself licking her lips. As she slowly approached the busy bunny from behind, Octavia wasn’t particularly interested in the carrots.
Surely nopony would miss one rabbit.
Vinyl was at her workstation when Octavia finally returned home. When her shark-y housemate dragged herself through the door, she looked to be in a poor state. Her mane was disheveled, her limbs were shaking, and... apparently she’d been digging into some pomegranate recently, given the red stains on her teeth.
Octavia said nothing as she entered and dropped her cello case on her side of the house, before walking over to and slumping onto the couch. She turned to look at Vinyl, whose gaze did not stray from her since she entered.
Eventually, she found it in herself to speak.
“I... I ate a bunny.”
Vinyl stared at her friend, sliding her glasses down enough to expose her eyes as she raised an eyebrow.
“I-it was a service!” said Octavia, rather hastily. “The pest was stealing somepony’s produce! I was just so hungry as well, and nothing else was doing anything for me, so it seemed like... two birds with one stone?”
The deejay continued to stare, silent. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be — once again — interrupted.
“The concert went well, at least,” she continued, sighing and holding her tail to her chest as she curled up on the couch. “Had an encounter with a certain mare, but everything — everything was fine. Just fine.”
Octavia was silent, before her eyes widened at a realization. “And my parents!” she shrieked, leaping to her hooves in an instant. “They’ll be here any minute! I — I need to prepare! Food, cleanliness, and — ahh! Conversation topics! Answers to potential questions they will doubtlessly have! I haven’t prepared any!”
The doorbell rang, making her let out a small scream of alarm. “AHHHH NO TIME THEY’RE ALREADY HERE!” yelled Octavia, quickly running to Vinyl and pushing her through the doorway to her room with surprising strength. “Get yourself presentable, already! You had all day! ”
Vinyl was likely about to reply before the door was slammed shut in her face, leaving Octavia to hurriedly go about organizing the room as best she could. It was not much, but alas, it was all she could do.
Once more, the doorbell rang, and Octavia gulped. “J-just a moment!” she called out, whimpering as she approached the door.
Breathe, Octavia, breathe , she repeated in her head, taking several deep breaths one after the other. Everything will be fine. Completely fine! Never mind the fact that you’re part-fish now, no, that’s irrelevant. Stick to the excuse, assure them it won’t last... Everything will be fine.
She sighed, then forced a smile — without showing her teeth, as much as she could help it — before pulling open the door.
Only to find someone unexpected standing there.
“S-Symphony?” she blurted out, blinking in shock. “What in Equestria are you doing here?”
The blue-coated mare rolled her eyes. “Is this how you normally welcome your guests?” she chided, sighing. “No wonder you hardly get visitors.”
Octavia scowled, only barely resisting the urge to slam the door in her prissy little muzzle. “What do you want from me?” she demanded. “Here to gloat and to taunt, as per the norm, I imagine. More so, considering my current status. Those fish jokes were simply fin tastic.”
“No.”
The shark-mare blinked. “...No?”
“There are better times and places for such things,” said Harp, shaking her head. “Look. I feel as though we’ve gotten off on the wrong hoof. I’m not even wholly sure why there’s such animosity between us, as rivals.”
“Considering you my ‘rival’ would imply you were ever on the same level as I,” Octavia shot back, glaring down at her. Whether in stature or actual height, now that I think about it.
Symphony gritted her teeth at the remark, biting back a retort. “At any rate, ” she hissed, “I feel as though we should ‘try again’. As proper colleagues. Like it or not, petty differences do not attribute well to a constructive environment.”
Octavia was silent, staring at her with narrowed eyes.
“I still find it constructive, however,” Symphony continued, frowning at her, “to criticize that truly jawful pun you made earlier.”
“All I’ve had to eat today was one rabbit. Do not tempt me.”
The harp-flanked mare grinned at her. “So I take it we have an understanding, then?”
“I understand that you are a gigantic pain in my flank, so, I suppose I do.”
“Always with the biting wit, Octy. Why, I feel as though I might bleed out from embarrassment.”
“You’ll be bleeding out for real if you don’t remove yourself from my property in the next ten seconds.”
“Oh, fine . At least consider the offer, though. All this zeal going around about encouraging friendships and whatnot.”
Octavia’s reply was to slam the door, shaking her head. “We’ll discuss it over tea sometime, I’m sure,” she muttered, turning and heading away from the door. “Of all the times Symphony elects to be somewhat courteous, it has to be after I’ve turned into... this. Hmph, probably knows I could easily and messily devour her, if I so chose.”
She caught herself, and grimaced, shaking her head. No, no. I may not like her, but I could never bring myself to do THAT to her. It’s dreadfully uncouth. And messy...
Not a minute passed by, and the doorbell rang once more.
“Oh, for crying out...”
Octavia rolled her eyes and sighed, stomping back to the door as she opened it. “Ms. Harp, I am warning you, stay off—” She stopped, noticing a completely different mare standing there. “—mother?”
“Sweetheart!” came the immediately reply, as an older mare stepped through the door and embraced her daughter in her forelegs. “It’s so wonderful to see you, again!”
“Oh, mother,” said Octavia, shaking her head and gently returning the hug. Her mother bore a rather striking resemblance to herself, apart from a slightly darker coat and differing manestyles. “It is good to see you, as well. You’ll have to pardon the state of the house, today has just been so hectic .”
Her mother nodded, gently running a hoof through her mane and patting her back. “It’s alright, my darling,” she said, reassuring her. “Believe it or not, the same is true for us as well. Hardly any time to rest at all, what, transporting your father here and all. Countless loopholes to exploit, favors called in, the works. Airships are insanely expensive these days.”
Octavia raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Uh, I see. Well—”
“Oh, my! Now isn’t this a surprise.”
“H-huh? What is?”
Her mother smiled, running a hoof along her tail and fin, and giggling. “So it finally happened, hm?”
Octavia's heart sank. She knew she would notice sooner or later, but the sudden call to attention of it made her start to babble and stammer fearfully. “M-Mother, I can explain!” the mare blurted out, curling her tail against herself nervously. “I-I woke up like this, I have no clue as to how it occurred, but it’s not as bad as it looks, I swear! It was magic! B-bitten by a radioactive shark! Something in the water! Ninjas! I—”
The older mare’s laugh interrupted her, to her bewilderment. “Oh, sweetheart, calm down,” she said, patting her head. “It’s none of those things. You’re just going through your second puberty!”
...
What.
“What,” came the dry, toneless word from Octavia’s throat, blankly staring at her mother.
“Well, maybe that’s a teensy bit oversimplified,” she explained, giggling. “Shark genes are quite recessive in ponies. Any traits won’t show up until later in life, if even at all! It’s nothing to be ashamed of, though. It's just a part of growing up. For your case, at least.”
Octavia blinked, then shook her head, trying to force the thought from her mind. “N-never mind that, mother,” she muttered. “Where is my father? You said he would—”
“And he is!” her mother piped up, stepping out the door and leading her by the hoof. “His tank is right outside!”
“His what? ‘Tank’? What do you mean by—” The words hitched in her throat and died there as she looked at what her mother was leading her to. A large, glass tank was placed on the house’s front yard. Shaped like an extremely wide, flat cylinder, and full to the brim with water. Less of a tank, and more of pool, but technicalities didn't quite seem to matter much at that moment.
Inside of it was... a shark. An honest-to-Luna, very real and very big Great White shark.
“Wh—what? This is — this is my father ?!”
“You don’t remember? You used to ride him all the time as a little foal!” Ms. Melody sighed dreamily, smiling at the shark in the tank as she rested a hoof on it. “Oh, those were the days. So carefree, so innocent. And so... passionate.”
Octavia gaped and gagged at the thought, tripping over her words as she stammered incredulously. “Wha—but how—why is—what—?!”
The aquatic predator continued to swim around its tank, seeming completely oblivious to the world outside it. For as bizarre as Octavia’s wake-up call this morning had proven, this somehow topped that many times over, in her mind.
At that moment, Vinyl trotted out into the yard. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of the massive shark tank, easily able to piece together everything after some moments of silence.
“So,” she said, taking a bite of a doughnut she carried as she looked between the three of them, “your mom got knocked up by a shark, huh?”
“VINYL!”
After the bizarre revelation that was her "father", Octavia had no end of questions for her mother. By the time she calmed down enough to start asking them in a rational manner, she eventually got the answers she desired. Answers that turned her entire world upside-down.
"It's quite the interesting tale," her mother said, giggling softly as the three of them sat in the house's living room. "Years ago, traveling abroad, I'd gone from Equestria to Griffonstone and everywhere in between. Indulging in the culture of the world, music, arts, and all! At least, until I decided to go heavy on the Merlot, one fateful night on the open seas by the west coast. My silly young self fell right overboard! Would have drowned, were it not for your father."
She sighed dreamily, as if recalling the memory. "Not only did he not eat me on the spot, he carried to me safety among some rock and coral outcroppings. Somewhere dry, at least. And oddly warm, which was definitely a plus. Brought me food, kept me company... Needless to say, I fell in love."
"With a shark," Octavia cut in, her expression utterly deadpan.
"Yes, and a real sweetheart of one, I'll say."
Vinyl took another sip of her drink, listening to the story with a considerable amount of interest. "And you both, uh, ended up," she started to say, making a few interpretive gestures with her forehooves, "you know, uh, doing things together?"
"A lady does not kiss and tell," the older mare replied, winking at her. "But all you need to know is that, some months after I was eventually taken to shore and able to return to my usual life, I discovered I was with child. And that child, of course, was you, Octavia."
"Niiice."
Celestia and Luna above, I don't believe this, Octavia thought, her mind still reeling from everything she was being told. Not only am I a bastard child, but I'm a bastard child born of a mare and a shark. Dare I even say, this is too surreal to even be a dream.
"It was a scary and difficult time for me, yes," her mother went on, wistful. "I was only around your age at the time, but it was ultimately worth it. I found myself returning to the same shore where he returned me to the mainland now and then, where he would always be waiting. Waiting to take me away to our special place, and make me his once mo—"
"This is all incredibly fascinating," Octavia spoke up, her voice rather strained, "but I think you can spare us these details. Please."
Her mother giggled again. "My apologies, sweetheart. I get carried away when I recall such sweet memories as those. Such sweet, passionate memories..."
Celestia help me, I think I'm going to feel ill.
"But, anyway," she went on, taking a sip of tea and setting it down, "after Octavia was born, her father and I decided to get married. I will spare my dearest daughter the details of the consummation, but eventually, we settled down by the shore more permanently. Young Octavia would often ride her father, the sweet little thing. I think I still have pictures here, even, if I remembered to bring them."
"Ooh, baby pics. Can I see?"
"V-Vinyl!"
"Once I find them, then certainly!"
"Mother!"
The older mare smiled sweetly, and chuckled before her expression turned somewhat moody. "All the same," she said, looking over at her daughter, "your well-being was our utmost concern. I knew full well that interspecial relations were complicated, and the offspring born from them were not always a success. The fact that you were born a perfectly normal filly was something I was grateful for, but, it also left me wondering about the future. So, I took you to a doctor, who had your fully examined, and..."
She trailed off, staring into space for a moment, before smiling and giggling. "And, well, as luck would have it, you were a completely healthy baby. Utterly spotless. Couldn't have been any less of a perfect hybrid of pony and shark. The only caveat was that, well, the recessive shark genes would not come into effect until much later in your life. Exactly when it would have occurred wasn't a certainty. But we did know it would happen, sooner or later."
Octavia sighed, looking back at her mother. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "I nearly lost my sanity over today's events. I broke down upon realizing it wasn't a dream. That I had changed overnight . Food I used to enjoy now tastes abhorrent to me." The sharkpony stared her dead in the eyes, clutching her shark-like tail to her chest again and stroking it nervously. "Mother, I ate a bunny. I ate a bunny! And I enjoyed it!"
"Oh, sweetheart..." Shaking her head, Octavia's mother sighed. "If I had known it would be happening now , I would have said something. It was something your father and I were hoping to be around to support you with. In that event, I suppose the timing of our visit was as perfect as it could have been."
She took another sip of her tea, when a thought occurred to her. "Oh, and I would not worry about your sudden predatory cravings," she explained, smiling calmly at her. "It's a perfectly normal aspect of your, shall we call it, 'sharkening.' Your body simply needs to adapt to the changes you'll be undergoing. Eventually, you will be able to fully enjoy your greens once more, and any urges like that will subside. Nothing to it!"
"There's — there's more?" Octavia's eyes widened at the implications of her mother's words. "I-I'm not going to fully turn into a shark like my father, am I?"
"No no no, not at all," the older mare quickly assured her daughter, giggling. "It really is only like a second puberty. You're basically done changing, physically, from what I can tell. And I must say, you really did turn out beautifully. Not just in looks, but in talent, accomplishment, personality, and as a pony overall. Your father and I are very proud of you, Octavia."
Despite everything that happened today, the half-shark mare could not help but smile. "Thank you, mother," she said, releasing a small sigh as a weight was taken off her back. Bizarre as everything seemed, as little sense as it made, at least she had her explanation. "There's just, ah, one thing I'm still not quite sure about."
"Oh? And that would be?"
"Why it took so long for me to see my father again. Why our home is not by the sea, but in Canterlot. Whatever reasons you had for not telling me, if things were so wonderful, why did you and I leave?"
"Oh." She blinked. "Well, money reasons, simply put. Fantastical as such a location was, there were no job positions to be had. The closest city was a few days by hoof, and it was well off the beaten trail. Marrying and living on the shoreline with a shark, unsurprisingly, does not put much bread on the table. Particularly not with a young foal that needed a good, strong foundation to build from." She smiled, shrugging and giggling softly. "These things are necessary, sometimes. But we do plan to return there for our long-overdue honeymoon, soon. Reignite the flames and all."
Octavia nodded slowly, the answer to her question seeming almost obvious, now that she considered it. "I... I see," she said, smiling sheepishly. "I suppose that makes sense. I can hardly imagine what life would be like now, had I never attended the Academy."
Things remained quiet between them for a minute still. At least, until Vinyl seized the opportunity to speak again.
"So... baby pics?"
"Vinyl!"
"Ah, yes! Let me just find my purse..."
"M-mother!"
The next few days were ones that, surprisingly, went quite well. After her mother had left — apparently, she had commissioned an airship to hoist her father's water tank away — things returned mostly to normal around Ponyville. More ponies she knew eventually found out about her condition, and for the most part, nopony seemed to mind it. Some even seemed interested in her condition, asking her questions or otherwise striking up random conversations. Not much of the attention seemed to breed much more than some curiosity.
And that was perfectly fine, of course. The less incentive to employ pitchforks, the better.
Her mother had also left her what she called a "care package", to the tune of several barrels of raw fish. 'Remember: three meals a day, no snacks unless it's a holiday c:' a small note on one of the barrels had read. Classic mother. Most ponies would have complained about the smell, and while still somewhat pungent to her own senses, Octavia found it to be a godsend. Seemingly endless amounts of free, tasty, relatively healthy, and possibly non-sapient meat. Certainly better than the alternatives, at the very least.
More than a few times, she encountered "missing" posters with the picture of the rabbit she had unceremoniously devoured days before. "Never again," she muttered to herself after seeing the latest one, shuddering.
Walking home from the latest public concert, she caught sight of — who else — that annoying harpist, Symphony. She offered a small, dismissive wave to her, and the mare meekly waved back, yet avoided eye contact. Something about her had seemed off. Perhaps she's finally learned her place, Octavia wondered, turning to watch her for a moment as Symphony carried on walking down the road. Still afraid of me? Some other kind of personal troubles, perhaps? Oh well. It's not my business either way, but I do wonder about her, sometimes.
The shark-mare eventually reached home, stepping through the door only to find Vinyl asleep on her workstation. And snoring rather loudly, to boot. Octavia rolled her eyes and sighed, remembering how her friend had spent the prior night constantly working on her latest set. "The work of an artist is endless," she mused, shaking her head and setting up her cello in her usual place in the room, determined to get more practice in. "Often hard, often tiresome, often unrewarding..."
She looked over at the sleeping, snoring Vinyl, and couldn't help but form a slight smile. But, some days, you look back, and realize that it was all worth it. To be at the peak of your abilities, of your dedication, and admiration. It's not as lonely up here as many would lead you to think. It merely depends on how you get here. Octavia sighed contently, tuning the strings one by one. Imagine, having climbed the same height, only to find you've gone up the wrong mountain entirely. I wonder if that's what—
A loud snap! cut through the air, interrupting her line of thought as an old string she was tuning finally gave up the ghost. She blinked, looking down at the curled up coil of wire, and frowning.
"Ah, er — I should have probably bought more strings."
By the time Vinyl Scratch woke up, her head was pounding. She hissed and rubbed her head as she blinked her eyes, mumbling with nearly zero energy in her voice. How long had she slept in? After all the work she had put in, the last thing she remembered was feeling tired, and then...
Oh, right.
A quick glance at the clock confirmed her thoughts, and she frowned. Just a short while past "late-as-heck o'clock", by her reckoning. She'd passed out on her workstation, again. Not a huge surprise. She shrugged it off and yawned, getting up from her table and stretching out her limbs, humming. Octavia was likely already home and in her room, by now. And Vinyl herself — well, after that impromptu nap she had, she wasn't feeling particularly tired anymore.
No big deal, though. Not for her. Vinyl was well-used to her schizophrenic sleep schedule.
She approached the fridge to retrieve another of her favorite drinks, and taking a good sip before her ears picked up an odd noise. From upstairs, it seemed like. The coughing, retching, and overall unpleasant, discordant melodies of someone being quite sick to their—
Welp. Time to be the responsible adult once again, it seemed.
With a sigh, the deejay trotted up the stairs in silence, the distinct sounds increasing in volume the closer she got to the source. Her muzzle scrunched involuntarily as she climbed the stairs and the ever-increasing stench of her fish stash became hard to ignore, but Vinyl soldiered on regardless. By the time she finally reached the door to the upstairs bathroom, however, the rather stomach-churning cacophony had ceased. She considered leaving her alone, but, part of her was still concerned. Was Octy out for drinks and had too many? Ate some bad fish? Some other third thing?
Vinyl sighed, reaching up and tapping on the door with her hoof before pushing it open. Inside, sitting on the floor beside her recently-defiled porcelain throne, was Octavia. The poor shark-mare looked rather pale — as pale as a gray-coated half-shark half-pony could appear, anyhow — with a hoof gently resting on and rubbing her stomach.
"I-I was not feeling well," she said as her friend entered, her voice wavering as she takes controlled breath after breath. "I'm, urp, some what better now, I believe, now that I've done away with all that mess. It must have been something I ate. And Celestia help me if I've caught some kind of stomach bug..."
The white-coated mare quietly went to Octavia's side, her horn glowing as she fetched a cup from the sink with her magic, filling it with water and offering it to her friend. She accepted with little hesitation, taking a few drinks from it and breathing deep. Nodding, Vinyl set down the cup again, carefully. Having personally dealt with a lot of ponies who had too much to drink, nausea was something she'd become all too well acquainted with. She set about carefully checking her body for the potential cause of her illness, seeing as how she had relaxed enough by this point.
"So bizarre," said Octavia, mumbling her words as Vinyl checked her over. "Feeling fine before, then not so fine now..."
Vinyl nodded, muttering out a request for her to keep relaxed and drink her water. Far as she could tell, nothing about her stomach seemed particularly disturbed, and Octavia did not have a history of such dizzy spells, so what precisely was the matter seemed rather unclear. Something did catch her attention, however, and she almost didn't think about it until she noticed it was aliv—
OH.
Oh. That.
That was a thing.
"Octy," said Vinyl suddenly, looking her friend in the eye. There was a strange, almost uncertain edge to her voice. As if what she had to tell her was either going to be the most incredible, wonderful thing in the known lands of Equestria, and the mere opportunity to speak of it was almost too much to bear... or, the single worst possible thing overall, second only to eternal damnation in a cage in Tartarus. On the moon. A moon-tartarus. Mootarus.
The metaphor sounded far better in her head, admittedly.
"What?" was Octavia's expected reply, furrowing her brow in confusion.
"Just, uh... a quick question. You haven't been seeing any stallions lately, have you?"
The look on Octavia's face was incredulous. "What? No! The last one I spoke to was Concerto, and he's merely an acquaintance. And if you're thinking in that manner, then no, I haven't once seen a stallion in such a manner."
"Err... yeah, uh, then I dunno how this is possible, or how I'm supposed to tell you this, but..."
"Tell me what?"
"I, uh, well... see, Octy, normally when a mare and a stallion get together—"
"Celestia and Luna above, Vinyl, tell me right now or I will—"
"You're pregnant."
Octavia went silent instantly. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. She soon shook her head, her words equally as shaky and unsure. "No. You... you're joking."
The deejay bit her lip, checking once more to confirm it. "Pretty sure I'm not," she said, gently resting a hoof on her stomach. "Unless you always had a weird, parasitic alien life-form taking up residence in your gut, and just didn't really notice until now."
"B-but... I... how...?"
In that moment, that very nanosecond, something broke in Octavia's ill, sleep-deprived mind. Rather than scream, cry, question, or otherwise vocalize her displeasure in a shrill manner, she briefly appeared dizzy as her body fell limp, slumping against the porcelain throne she had been leaning on for some time.
Vinyl quickly checked on her, and found that her shark-like friend had, quite simply, passed out. She let out a nervous chuckle, carrying the (rather heavy) shark-mare's unconscious form out of the room with her magic, and carting her off to her bed.
"Not, uh — not too early to start thinking about names, is it?"
