The Fishbowl

“Wake up, Vinyl.”

Vinyl Scratch mumbled something indecipherable about more minutes as she was gently rocked.

“Come on, wake up.”

“Is it morning already?”

“Actually it’s afternoon. I just got back from school.”

The voice gradually filtered its way through to her brain. “Tavi?” she murmured. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I’m not. You’re in my house, Vinyl. You’re in my room. You’re in my bed.”

Vinyl peered at the blanket she was clutching. Sure enough, it looked like one of Octavia’s. “Huh.”

Octavia picked up Vinyl’s jacket from the floor and hung it on the back of the chair. “Have you been asleep here all day? Is that why you weren’t in school? And how did you even get in here?”

Vinyl bobbed her head. “Your window’s open.”

Octavia looked at her window. “It’s also upstairs. Did you really climb all the way up here?”

“Seemed easier. ’S closer than my house.”

“Only by four streets.” Octavia sat lightly on the side of the bed and slid a lock of Vinyl’s bright blue hair aside. “Oh, Vinyl. What am I going to do with you?”

“You could feed me?”

Octavia sighed and rolled her eyes. “Mum will be home in an hour or so. You can join us for dinner. Is that good enough?”

Vinyl poked one hand out in a big thumbs up, while using the other to pull the blankets closer.

“So what, were you out at a concert all night? You know the school don’t approve of you working nights if it's going to interfere with your studies .”

“Nah, I was at the library.”

“That doesn’t sound much like you. And doesn’t the library close in the evenings?”

“Yeah, but the records bit isn’t really open in the day anyway. It's all behind this heavy blue door upstairs, and the staff watch you like vultures if you get close to it. So I had to wait for them all to go home.”

Octavia was concerned. “Are you telling me that you broke in there at night to get at the private records?”

“I didn’t break in. I just… stayed in. While everyone else locked up and went home.”

“And you stayed there all night?”

“Their photocopier’s really slow. Got some good stuff, though.” She waved a hand in the direction of Octavia’s desk, where a fat bundle of papers sat on the keyboard.

“We’ll look at all that later,” sighed Octavia, getting up. “Or possibly tomorrow. I have homework to do. And so do you, by the way.”

Trixie laid a few photos on the bed, showing Sunset Shimmer hanging out with the Rainbooms. “As your can see, the demon queen of Canterlot High is now best buddies with the girls that defeated her so publicly.”

“You can't keep calling her ‘demon queen’ because of what happened at the Fall Formal,” said Vinyl. “We're all supposed to give her a second chance, remember? There was a whole speech and everything.”

“I called her that long before the Fall Formal,” defended Trixie. “She was a bitch for years. Anyway, don't you think that's odd behaviour for girls who were such recent enemies?”

Octavia picked up a picture showing Sunset and Fluttershy laughing as they left the pet store. “It is interesting. Are you suggesting that magical battle was all a show, and they were working with her all along?”

“I wouldn't know. I was all zombie, remember?”

“And they did blow up the front of the school,” pointed out Vinyl.

“Anyway, they still talk about Twilight Sparkle as a ‘pony princess’, whatever that means, from some place called Equestria. Sunset Shimmer is in on that, whatever it is, they're happy to talk about that and the music magic thing with her around. And also around Fluffle Puff, but that's presumably because they don't think she’ll tell anyone.”

“They didn't have a problem doing that thing in the music shop either. They clearly don't think of it as much of a secret. Good stuff, anyway. What about you, Tavi?”

Octavia cleared her throat. “The Pinkie Pie that attends Crystal Prep goes by the name Pinkamena. She's seen as a loner by the other students, but still contributes to school events. She can apparently play the acoustic guitar, accordion, harmonica and cymbals all at once, though her choice of song isn't always popular. At their recent Shadowbolts Got Talent event, she did a one woman rendition of ‘Creep’ followed by ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night’.”

“Eek, cheerful. That confirms what Vinyl saw at the bakery though,” said Trixie.

Vinyl nodded her head in deference.

Octavia continued, “The one known as Diana is a regular performer at local amateur dramatics, appearing as Ellen in their recent production of Wuthering Hooves. She generally wears period clothing of some sort, even when she's not performing.”

“How about the Politico one?”

Octavia shook her head. “I haven't heard anything about her from my arts or music connections. I suspect we'll need to get a lot closer to city government to see anything of her.”

“Shame. Still, good work.”

“How about you, Vinyl?” asked Trixie.

“Yes, come on, Miss Scratch. Do tell us where you've been all week.”

Taking her time, Vinyl unrolled a poster-sized black-and-white map of the town that looked more like a schematic than a consumer map, with the city limits clearly marked. Red marks dotted the edges at various points.

“I've been to see the end of the world,” she said calmly.

The other two exchanged a frown. Octavia asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“The end of the world. Right here.” She indicated one of the red marks, followed by others. “And here, here, and here.”

Octavia asked in concern, “Vinyl, are you feeling alright? I'm starting to think this whole affair may be getting the better of you.”

“I'm feeling great, Tavi. Never better.”

“What do you mean, ‘the end of the world’?” asked Trixie. “Is this like the Mayan thing a few years ago?”

“No. It's simple, if you walk up to the line here you'll find there's no more world. That's the edge. The limit. The boundary. Everything past that point is an illusion, and a shaky one at that. I've checked all these other points round the edge,” she said pointing to the red marks, “and they're the same. No more world past that point. Just a fake painted landscape and a fake sky.”

She looked into their concerned faces.

“What, you don't believe me?”

“I admit we've encountered some strange things in the last few weeks, but… this does test our credulity somewhat.”

“Ow!”

“I told you it was there.”

Trixie rubbed her nose and glared at the smug Vinyl.

Octavia stepped up to the horizon and touched it, captivated by the concept. “And this barrier goes all the way around the city?” she asked in awe.

The sun was setting, throwing shades of pink and orange across them.

“Yup. It lines up perfectly with the city limits, from what I've seen. It's a really big area actually, like 50 miles across, and a lot of what's inside isn't buildings or anything. The whole Everfree forest is inside the city limits. The only bit I've not tested is the river.”

“Incredible.”

Trixie was less enamoured with it. “So we really are trapped inside here?”

“But we've all been outside before,” said Octavia. “We've visited other towns.”

“Have we?” asked Vinyl. “When was the last time you went somewhere?”

… INSERT COMMENTS ABOUT THE EVERFREE, AFTER SEEING THE FOURTH FILM ...

“So if we are prisoners here… who's the jailor?” asked Trixie.

“I've got a feeling the Mayor's office will know something about it,” said Vinyl. “Let's have a think about how we can get close to Politico Pinkie.”

Octavia couldn’t sleep.

It was too hot, so she kicked her covers off. Then it was too cold, so she pulled them back. It was too dark, so she opened her blinds. Then the street light was shining in her eyes, so she closed them. She was thirsty, so she got up for a drink. Then she needed the toilet, so she got up again. Then she was too cold again. With no sign of approaching sleep, she lay on her back and stared at the familiar details of her ceiling, going over the day’s encounters.

The other two were fixated on the worry that their memories were fake, especially Trixie for whom that particular memory was so important. That wasn’t what bothered Octavia. She was strong. She wasn’t just a product of her memories, of what her parents and society had taught her, of a roll of the world’s dice. She’d taken charge of her own development from a young age, sought out her own path, built her personality the way she wanted it. She wasn’t anyone’s achievement but her own. Taking away one childhood memory now wasn’t going to change who she was.

Instead she kept returning to something else the woman had said.

“There’s barely a whiff of love in the three of you.”

That mocking dismissal grated in Octavia’s ears, ringing through her mind again and again as she lay there. That’s wrong, thought Octavia. That just isn’t true. She doesn’t know anything.

She turned over, bunched her blankets up like a person and wrapped herself around them. She clung tight, her leg hooked around the make-believe partner, her face pressed into the fabric.

She breathed out through her mouth and took a deep breath in through her nose. Though aware that it could be her imagination, she felt sure that the sheets still held hints of Vinyl.

Octavia spent Saturday morning strangling a growing collection of neighbourhood cats.

“Honeybun, what’s happened to your cello playing?” asked her mother incredulously. “Just last week you were doing so well.”

She dabbed a lump of bread in her soup halfheartedly. “I guess I’m just not in the mood for it today, Mum,” she sighed.

“Is it the audition? I told you, it doesn’t matter if you don’t get in straight away. Nobody’s ever successful at things like that the very first time, you need to keep trying.”

“It’s not...” Octavia trailed off and left it at that. Honestly, it was easier if her mother thought it was just nerves. That was easier than explaining how she really felt. And it wasn't like the audition didn't make her worried.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go for a walk after lunch? That’s sure to clear your head. You’ll need some nice new clothes for the audition, right? You can go shopping.”

“I guess. Sure.”

So she spent the afternoon idly browsing racks of similarly boring clothes, waiting for some sort of inspiration to strike. As she was on the verge of admitting defeat, buying the same thing as usual and turning for home, she caught sight of one of Chryssi’s assistants, all black skin, hair and clothes, with those big blue eyes, moving through a nearby aisle of boots. She couldn’t tell if it was the boy or the girl, they looked so alike. She hurried round the corner to get a better look, but only found an older woman checking out the sign by the elevators.

Emerging from the shop, she caught sight of the assistant again in the crowd on the other side of the street, heading down a side street. She crossed over the road intending to follow him or her, but lost sight of them again, only to catch a glimpse at the far end of an alleyway.

Finding the motivation she’d been lacking all day, she set forth down the alleyway to track them down.

Octavia slipped into the shop. She was surprised to find it unlocked this late, when all the other shops were shuttered and sealed. It was dark inside, apart from odd little lights here and there illuminating displays of merchandise, some flickering or throbbing, and the dim glow of the emergency sign over the door.

It was quiet as well. Her footsteps sounded louder, echoed further. Her breath punctuated the silence like an intruder. She brushed against a display, dislodged some of the merchandise, and the whole shop reverberated for seconds. Mannequins and displays that had looked quite ordinary earlier now loomed eerily out of the gloom, deceptive angles making them seem to turn as she passed, the occasional soft rustling adding to the effect. Was that the air conditioning making the fabric move, or a rat hiding behind the stand?

Reaching the far side of the store, she slipped past the till. Behind it, the door to the office was ajar. She gingerly nudged it further open.

“I had a feeling I’d see you again soon, Miss Melody.”

How does she keep doing that? Octavia wondered in frustration. She sagged and pushed the door open fully.

It was even darker in the office, away from the street lamps and the shop windows. It took Octavia a few seconds to squint through the darkness and find Chrysalis reclining in a big floppy couch covered in cushions. The effect was like that of a wild beast in its lair.

Lounging in the same chair, practically on top of her, was a smaller, plumper girl with big eyes. She reminded Octavia of Pinkie Pie, though she couldn’t imagine Pinkie being so languidly erotic. The girl had her arms wrapped around Chryssi, gripping her protectively; the older woman was idly running her fingers through the girl’s hair, teezing strands of it with her long green nails.

“Is that… Fluffle Puff?” asked Octavia incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“She's with me,” said Chryssi. “.”

...

BIG GAP HERE.

...

“How do you know I’m not in love?” Octavia was getting upset, nearly shouting now. “What do you even know about me?”

In a flash, Chrysalis was standing. She gripped Octavia’s chin and pulled her face close, eyes locked together.

“You don’t smell of love, dearie. Not one bit. You smell of frustration, resignation and fear. You’re not in love. You’ve surrendered.”

Octavia’s eyes were wide with fear and decked with tears, but she couldn’t pull them away. She couldn’t move at all, she was locked onto those haunting green eyes. “I... I don’t...” she whimpered.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve met your soulmate and you’ve given up. The barriers, the circumstances, the risks,” she wheedled. Her nails felt like claws digging into Octavia’s throat.

Pulling her head closer, Chrysalis whispered into her ear, “You had your chance and you blew it. You traded it all away for cheap fear. What you’ve got left now isn’t love at all. It’s closer to hate,” she snarled. “You resent the effect she has on you. You’re jealous of how much you adore her. You hate how she doesn’t love you back.”

Octavia couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away. “No! She...”

“Tell me, do you really see the two of you happy together? As brilliant and pure as she is, and as tainted as you are? Do you see yourself serving her breakfast in bed, a warm smile on your face and subterfuge in your heart, clawing to get out? Do you really think she won’t ever notice?”

Chrysalis blinked, and Octavia finally closed her eyes. Chrysalis released her, letting the girl slide to her knees sobbing.

The pink girl slid up behind Chrysalis and wrapped her arms round her. Standing on tiptoes to reach the taller woman’s level, she purred into her ear then gave it a little nibble.

“You’re right,” said Chrysalis. “I don’t need to be so mean.”

Chrysalis turned, wrapping her arm around the girl’s waist and pulling her close. Absent-mindedly, she lifted a foot behind her and shoved Octavia’s shoulder, pushing her over onto the floor. Finally snapping out of her trance with a taste of carpet and realising where she was, she scrambled to her feet, pushed through the door, and stumbled through the darkened shop and out into the cool night.

Octavia took a bus home. She didn’t notice Sugarcoat walking a comfortable distance behind her along the dark street. She didn’t see Apple Bloom sitting behind her on the same night bus. She didn’t notice Fleur de Lis walking past her house as she let herself in.