The Lights and Nights
'It must be the feeling that brings me to you.
Must be that aura emanating from your tempting personality that makes me do what you want me to do.
Every time I think of you, I shake my head in a slow, negative nod. Mostly in regards of your wasted potential, I’d say 99% is about that.
But there’s that wayward 1% that makes me sigh in frustration, making me feel the most stupid of ponies for not being there with you, in those wacky wasted nights, together with all those absurd ideas that usually would make me cringe, all those spins and turns, all those lightning drones that fly high above the crowd, screaming your songs.
It must be this feeling that lingers in my heart every single night I see you leaving through our divided door, wearing sometimes – nothing but your glasses, and a pair of headphones.'
It was an urge, that surpassed the strings of her cello, an urge for freedom.
“You coming tonight, right Tavi?” She asked her, checking her ridiculously phosphorescent mane in the mirror, for the thousandth time or so. Octavia rolled her eyes, not even bothering to reply.
She was buried in her own papers, studying, learning how to please the most refined and conservative ears, and not how to make a noisy light-show.
To each his own – Octavia thought.
“I’m busy, Vinyl.” She said with a dry voice, scribbling something down in a piece of cream-colored paper.
“You always are.” The unicorn replied, levitating her signature glasses from a velvet case and covering her uniquely crimson eyes with those enigmatic lenses. “Anyway, I’m on my way. I gotta shake the ground in that abandoned hotel tonight.” She said with a hint of pride.
“Which hotel?” Octavia raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“That big one in South Ponyville. It has a theater inside, can you believe it?” She scoffed at the allegation. “We got the keys… Kinda” Vinyl had a wry smile in her face.
Something popped up in Octavia’s head at the mention of the hotel. There was only one place in Ponyville large enough to boast a theater inside.
“Wait, are you talking about The Palace?” Octavia asked, raising her head for a second from the musical scores scattered over the crowded table. “The Palace Hotel was abandoned?” She looked a bit disappointed at the news.
“Didn’t you know? It was deactivated a few years ago, lack of funds or something. The place is mostly intact tho, so we decided to summon all of the neighborhood ponies for a hell of a rave there.” Vinyl said, pumping her restless hooves in anticipation. “You should go, really. It will be surrealistic as heck to watch me – modesty aside – the best DJ in town playing some mind-twisting tunes in that theater.” She grinned.
“You’re insane Vinyl…” Octavia sighed, turning her attention back to the papers. “I’m not paying your bail if the royal police stop by your ‘party’.” She said in a mildly threatening tone.
“Pffft.” The DJ pony snorted. “Not going to happen” She assured mostly to herself. Octavia shrugged.
“Anyway Tavi, see you ‘round.”
With a kick of her hind-leg Vinyl closed the door and disappeared into the night as she’d always do. Her silhouette vanishing away at distance as the multi-colored neon bands she wore around her hooves and neck got obscured by the fog.
In a much deserved silence Octavia could concentrate her thoughts in her advanced studies, checking her instruments and adjusting some smaller details in a new score she had been working on for months; it would be the central piece in an incoming musical movie, and she prided herself for that achievement.
After several minutes sitting behind her desk, doing anything she could to pretend being way too busy to care about illegal raves. Listening only to the crackling sounds of the fireplace and the windy weather outside that insisted in knocking her window panes, Octavia couldn’t help herself anymore and let out a long sigh.
“Ugh” She grumbled, pushing her face against the piles of paper, her mane pouring down the sides of the table like a sleek cascade of hair.
When the mare finally recomposed herself from her attack of boredom, she took the wise decision of walking away from that table for a while. Octavia felt thirsty; a glass of water would be very welcome, maybe something else to eat too.
Placing her fountain pen back on its holder, she stood up and trotted down to the kitchen, right in the middle of their shared apartment.
Octavia stopped in mid-way, turning her head to the side to inspect a specific detail on the wall; among her many awards neatly stacked on polished shelves, a fairly old portrait caught her eyes.
“It can’t be…” She muttered, narrowing her eyes as she looked closely to the picture.
It was one of her first live concerts with the royal orchestra; there she was, handling her cello like a professional. Octavia was clearly the youngest pony holding an instrument, and that specific picture was taken in no other place, than in the glamorous theater of The Palace.
A wave of nostalgic bliss filled her heart with half-warm half-cold melancholia as she found herself wondering how it would feel to be there after such a long time. How would she react to the decaying atmosphere of such a dear place?
“Dammit, Vinyl…”
How should one dress up for a rave?
Octavia surely knew nothing about that. She just wanted to visit the theater, it’s not like she secretly wished to watch Vinyl. At least that’s what she stated to herself.
Turning around in front of her mirror, Octavia inspected the most rebellious outfit she had managed to assemble in less than an hour.
The gray mare wore a white collar with purple rhinestones she borrowed from Vinyl’s wardrobe; the collar fit tightly around her neck, and elicited a slightly odd feeling. It was way… too much for her personal tastes, and beyond anything she’d consider wearing in normal occasions.
Why would a pony have the desire to purchase such a thing? Vinyl was no unruly pet asking to be punished.
Or was that hers intention when she bought the collar?
Octavia preferred not to think about it, and only opted for wearing the collar in the first place because it certainly looked way more rebellious than her usual bow tie. Who in a rave would care about bow ties?
Again, she struggled with her subconscious self, which smirked at her fruitless attempts at hiding interest in the party itself. It swirled inside her mind, scoffing at Octavia’s naïve ideas.
Shaking the invisible influence away, Octavia returned her attention to her mane; her charcoal, boring, flat, mane.
Nope, I’m not tinting you with those crazy dyes. She shuddered at the possibility.
Instead, Octavia fixed it in a ponytail, wrapping some white stripes at the knot length, and also at the base of her tail. It felt so awkward at first – but she had seen so many pop-stars doing the same… She still felt more exposed than usual.
The only clothes in her outfit that actually belonged to her were some thigh high stockings she rarely wore – in fact, as far as she remembered, they were only used once, at Canterlot’s Winter Gala, and by that time, she had a long dress covering most of it.
That tight-fitting garment wrapped her legs almost like a second layer of skin. The socks were pearly white, and contrasted strongly with the color of her fur. Octavia’s cheeks flushed at seeing such a tremendously different self in the mirrored wall. Maybe that’s how she would present herself to the world in a parallel universe where she for some reason followed Vinyl’s hoofsteps into electronic music.
She chuckled at the silly thought.
Closing the door to her closet, Octavia strolled to the living room still unsure of herself, but being pushed roughly by the wicked part of her mind that urged her to go out at least once. She was young, she was cute as fuck – she deserved to live the experience.
Feeling the peculiar texture of the floor under the silk-covered undersides of her hooves, she made her way to the front door.
“A-alright…” She murmured, pushing the door just a little bit open. “Here we go.”
With the tip of her muzzle she opened it, facing the outside world as if it was a distant dimension in space and time.
Her ponytail flowed freely behind her head in the gelid air of the night; surely, those warm socks would serve a purpose on her way down to South Ponyville boroughs.
It wasn’t far from their home – actually, few places in the town could be considered far. Sometimes she thought they could fit the entirety of Ponyville in the royal castle plaza.
There were very few ponies around at such late hours, and Octavia was quite a bit glad for that. It’s not like she wanted to be seen wandering the streets at night wearing such a… suggestive attire.
Those underground parties had their own rules, and one of the most important was; dress up, or get out.
The definition of ‘dress’ differed wildly from party to party, but anything with a bondage collar and silk stockings would do the job. She thought.
Streetlamps guided her way lightening the foggy air that followed her steps in swirly vortexes, she contemplated the unusual emptiness of the streets with curious eyes, all those rows of houses and brick buildings; they all looked dead and boring when their colors faded away by the eventide.
It sadly reminded Octavia of her own self.
Sometimes she wanted to be more, to shine more. She wanted to plug her head into a sparkling machine, only to upload a few more memories in her mind. Good memories.
Unfortunately, no one had invented a sparkling machine like that, she presumed. In real life, good memories were hard to acquire, at least for her. When every concert looked the same and all the ponies had the same haughty look, there wasn’t much she could add.
The few lights of central Ponyville grew in distance with each hoofstep, and in front of her, nothing but gloomy streets awaited.
“You’re not lost, are you?”
Octavia scurried to the side, turning abruptly only to bump against the only living soul in her way, she could feel her heart nearly jamming into her throat, as her vision settled down.
“Oh, I-” She murmured, looking up to see a white unicorn stallion, eyes hidden behind dark reflective glasses. He looked vibrant – imposing – but not threatening. “Thanks but I’m not lost.” She added, backing away awkwardly. A wrongdoer couldn’t look and smell so good. Is that body wash? It didn't mattered.
Unless he was a psychopath, but she was quick to bury that thought when it crossed her mind.
He smiled, checking Octavia for a second.
“Yeah, you’re surely not.” He snickered. “Going to the hotel party as well?”
Octavia nodded, raising an eyebrow at him. He definitely didn’t look like the kind of pony who would attend to such an event, but then again, what about her – Octavia Melody. She wasn’t in place to judge.
“My friend will be playing there tonight” She said, adjusting the tightening collar around her neck.
“Crap, then you must be Vinyl’s friend. She’ll be the only DJ glitching the sound tonight.” The unicorn said. “My name is Night Shade, I heading to the rave too; I can take you there if you want.”
“Sure…” Octavia said, still unsure.
“It’s not that far from here, just in a weird place – as always.”
Indeed, the famous hotel wasn’t very far from them, its cupola could be seen as a lonely lighthouse above the buildings, gleaming on top of darkened rooftops.
Into the night, the ponies went through crooked streets that tapered down into a single funneling square.
The buildings surrounding the place had long stains running down the walls caused by intermittent dripping of broken gutters, the washed out facades and sun-bleached rooftops displayed an atmosphere of urban decadence, a place so frequently drowned in fog and humidity.
More ponies showed up along the way as they crossed a sidewalk lined by abandoned warehouses, multi-colored graffiti gleamed under the moonlight forming a thousand shapes on the stern-looking barriers, filled with stone and concrete. The graffiti itself served as some sort of nocturnal signaling, on it, neon-blue arrows leading to the main entrances.
Night Shade found a group of friends along the way and stopped to greet them; a punk-looking pegasus with dark spiky hair and a single shimmering piercing hanging from the tip of her ear. A bulky stallion wearing a roughly stitched jacket, a wire crawled up his neck, disappearing into his messy mane, and reappearing around a flashing apparatus glued around his horn.
Many unicorns wore the same trinket, for purposes still unknown to Octavia.
“What is that?” She asked, discretely pointing to a unicorn across the street with a uniquely large hardware around his horn, almost a metallic crown.
“Oh, you’ll find out very soon.” A wry smile formed on his lips.
Shade waved goodbye to his exotic buddies and called Octavia with a nod. By that time, she had slightly distanced herself from him, trying to avoid interaction with the unknown group.
Right in front of them stood The Palace; a massive granitic building adorned in every possible corner with statuettes and arabesques, which although modified by the party decorators still maintained its imposing presence, regardless of how many colored light cannons surrounded its classic facade.
Technology could be seen everywhere; flashing banners hung from the ceiling to the floor, depicting announcements and trippy fractals.
Cameras inside the theater were ready to record and display the show to the ponies outside through large screens specifically positioned around the front square.
A long waiting line surrounded the building blocks, and at the sight of it Octavia started to reconsider her plans. Maybe it wasn’t worth anyway, to stay up the whole night in a crowded neighborhood full of strangers.
“Hey Octavia!” Shade nudged her side; a wide smile in his face. “I’m one of the bouncers you know? I have a free pass.” He said, pointing to a silver name tag in his chest. Octavia tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out what the stallion was trying to imply.
“What is a bouncer?” She asked, uncertain of the word.
“Just come with me, you don’t have to wait outside.” Shade adjusted his glasses, messing up with his stylish mane a bit more. “Besides… You don’t want to be in the stampede when they open the front doors.” He chuckled.
“I’m not sure if I…” She murmured.
“Come on!” He insisted, grabbing her by the hoof. “I don’t want a beautiful mare like you in the middle of these thugs.” Shade said with a strong hint of irony. “If you’re really Scratch’s friend, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Reluctantly, Octavia followed his steps, entering the building through a side door.
The atmosphere inside was clearly distinct to say at least.
Unlike the crowded, dazzling outside, the deep lounge looked like a completely different place, Octavia felt as if they had crossed a portal to another dimension, without noise, disturbing lights, and punks.
The few ponies allowed to come in were staff members, bouncers, or those willing to pay – a lot – for the private boxes above the level of the stage.
And Celestia… It seemed like all the good looking ponies of the party had gathered in a single floor. This fairly unknown place was quite the legend, it seemed, and Octavia wondered why Shade would let her in without even be certain of her relation with Vinyl.
He had disappeared into the backstage, and Octavia took the opportunity to explore the area.
The walls were dark, possibly deep purple, stuffed like the surface of a leather couch. She ran her hoof over the contours, feeling every single part of it.
Textures on the floor differed drastically; part of it was made of a semi-translucent purplish stone, polished like marble, back-lit very faintly from below; Octavia had never seen something like that. The corridors were carpeted in wine-red velvet and caressed her hooves in a mind boggling way. That was probably the intention anyway.
Walls and ceiling were very simplistic looking; dark, smooth. The floor was richly furnished with some modern-looking tables, couches and beanbags. Antagonistically, all the furniture was white.
You could barely see any light sources, the architect, decorator, or whoever projected that space was a genius.
Overall, it was shadowy, but at the same time cozy. It was secluded, but not in a way that prevented the guests from enjoy the party. The stage was located a floor below the lounge, and although Octavia could watch everything from the glass balconies, she decided to take the stairs down and perhaps find Vinyl before the party started.
She wandered around, avoiding getting too close to the curtains, not because she was afraid of stumbling on her hooves and falling face first on the stage, but because the curtains were covered in potentially dangerous wires and power cords.
There was a voice, deep in the backstage. Octavia could easily recognize Vinyl’s funny accent. She chuckled to herself, crossing room after room, until the sound was clear as water. Octavia looked up to a sign at the door – ‘PON-3’ – written with the same neon blue glow of the graffiti she had seen outside.
Octavia moved a hoof to knock the door, giving a step further, but failing majestically.
She hadn’t noticed when one of her legs dragged a cable from the floor, the sudden entanglement pulled her down.
“Ouch!”
Octavia tripped but managed to stand for a few seconds, she tugged her leg angrily, breaking free from the cable but landing against the door like a meteor.
CRASH!
Her body must have rolled once or twice before bumping against a couch. She growled, rubbing her heavy head as she tried to stand up again.
“Octavia?” Two voices said in unison.
What a surprise.
Octavia gasped, turning around to face Vinyl. Perhaps for the first time in her life, the unicorn blushed.
“W-well… That explains a lot.” Octavia said, gawking at the scene. “Were you kissing him, or eating his face?” She scolded her, although Octavia had no obvious reasons for that. “When you’re done doing… whatever you were doing to Shade, I guess some thousands of ponies are waiting for you.”
In a second, Octavia slammed the door closed, striding away hastily, looking for a hole in the lounge to hide herself from the face of the world.
It would be an interesting night.
Author's Note
Here we go again.
