E - P - I - C - W - U - B - T - I - M - E
Hot meant different things to different ponies.
To Octavia, it meant feeling the first rays of dawn as a glowing warmth across her muzzle. It was the cleansing sensation of fresh tea that she was drinking one small sip at a time, savoring the aromatic notes of cardamom and citrus as they wafted up from its steaming surface. It even meant the way the morning light sent dust motes dancing in the calm of the breakfast nook, blessing her with time to give thanks for the new day, and to be alone with her thoughts.
But the moment was fractured when the whole house shuddered with the impact of something heavy upstairs. It sent little bits of plaster down from the ceiling, and sent the dancing motes of dust in the morning sunbeams into a jittering spasm of chaos.
‘Hot’ meant something totally different to Octavia's roommate.
And so Octavia took another brief sip of the tea, as if it could ward away what would likely come next. But then, sure as death, Octavia heard thundering hoofsteps from on high, and noted their general path toward the east wall and its staircase….
“Tavi,” shouted Vinyl Scratch, bursting through the wooden door at the other end of their shared eat-in kitchen. Trying to maintain her sense of morning tranquility, Octavia took another sip as she absorbed the manic mare’s face-splitting grin and acutely unkempt mane. “Tavi, I’ve got it. I finally know how I’m gonna break into the big time!”
From experience, Octavia knew better than to ask what her roommate was on about before finishing her morning ritual of tea and sun-praise. So instead, she grunted noncommittally.
“It's so easy,” Vinyl said, gesticulating with a fury that seemed undeterred by Octavia’s near-silence. “Princess Twilight got her wings ’cause she created new magic, right? Or like… finished making something that some old dude from way back was working on.”
If she concentrated hard enough, Octavia could almost feel the coziness of her bathrobe subsuming all unnecessary senses—
Vinyl abruptly ducked back through the door. Loud tromping on the stairs was soon followed by a teeth-chattering series of clicks, pops, and mechanical screeches from above. As the racket stretched onward, Octavia took the opportunity to slam back most of the tea and mutter a quick word of praise for the dawn. Better to face this with at least a modicum of caffeine in my system…
Then Vinyl was back, hauling a load of equalizers, keyboards, and cables in her magic. Octavia felt glad that her mug was all but empty when Vinyl dumped most of the load unceremoniously on the table before her. The incoming mess scattered the mug, a pair of salt and pepper shakers, and a wide red bottle of Vinyl’s favored hot sauce, whose logo was emblazoned with a mustachioed pony under a huge sombrero.
“Okay, so, technology.” Vinyl punctuated her cryptic words with an unnerving grin. “All this phat-beat techno-wizardry I drop? It might work ‘magic’ with the ladies, but it’s all just like… computers, and stuff.”
Ocvavia blinked, and furrowed her brow. There at last, in the midst of what seemed sure to be a roiling tempest of madness, shone a tiny and guttering beacon of logic. She set her sights upon it, cleared her throat, and uttered, “Yes, but isn’t the electrical grid powered by magic?”
“Technically, yeah, but that’s just where it comes from. Everything on top of it? That's science. Or is it?!” Somehow Vinyl’s grin grew deeper.
Silence reigned. Long, awkward silence. The kind you could cut with a butter knife, if you were of a mind to do so. In the midst of it all, Octavia’s throat tickled—but she refused to clear it on principle.
“...And so,” Vinyl at last continued, raising a hoof and tapping her horn, “basically, I’m gonna use my magic to repro what I do on these babies, with this one. Then I’m gonna be the Princess of Gettin’ Down, and life’s just gonna be one sick drop all day and night!”
“I see,” Octavia said, glowering at her empty cup. It lay on its side, scuffed and chipped from the impact of a particularly heavy synth careening into it. Then she met Vinyl’s eyes with a scowl. “So you’ve finally gone and done it.”
“Yeah! I know, right?
“No, I mean you’ve finally gone arse-over-knickers insane… excuse my Prench. Because that’s not really creating new magic, is it? It’d be like casting a spell to work the blender, then calling yourself the Princess of—”
“—Smoothies!”
“...I was going to say, Blending Things. I mean, if everypony who ever contributed the tiniest bit of magical research ascended to alicornhood, shouldn’t the world would be teeming with them?”
“Or maybe it is, but it’s like a VIP thing that we can’t see ’cuz we’re not invited?”
Octavia rose from the table and fished her mug out from the debris. She followed this with a long, steadying breath. “Vinyl, you’re very dear, but do try not to be too disappointed when this… mad scheme comes to naught?”
“The only ‘mad’ there’s gonna be is honeys all up in my business!” Vinyl shouted, heading back for the stairs. “Gettin’ me some blings, wings, and wubs tonight! WOO!”
Ever so slowly, Octavia let her head fall forward until it touched the table. It struck a little harder than she had expected, which felt oddly satisfying. And so she gave the table an additional forehead-bonk, and then another…
Princess Celestia had tried to welcome the newest alicorn with a traditional—if somewhat hastily assembled—song and photomontage. But finding her attempts to summon the newling into the void rebuffed by a throbbing wall of overdriven sound, she instead teleported somewhere near the alicorn’s general vicinity in the mortal realm, where it seemed a raucous party was unfolding. And despite the sheer improbability, the sound here was even louder, to the point where Celestia felt as if her bones might rattle out of her skin.
Standing a few dozen paces from the smallish house at the epicenter of the continuous concussive cacophony was a haggard-looking grey earth pony holding a chipped mug. As Celestia approached, the mare turned with eyes that made it clear she’d seen things. And slowly, the pony raised the mug toward her.
“Thank you!” Celestia shouted, before realizing that she couldn’t even hear her own words over the din. So she lit her horn and cast a powerful shield bubble around the two of them. It muted the noise, leaving a ringing quiet that still throbbed against her hooves and made the shield shimmer in time with... a beat of some sort, though one completely unlike anything the ancient alicorn had ever encountered before.
“I said, thank you," she repeated as she lifted the mug closer, intending to take a sip. She paused, though, as a small whiff of the beverage it held all but caused her sinuses to ignite. “Heavens above, that’s strong! I thought you might be having tea.”
The mare turned her weary gaze back toward the ever-growing party. “I thought I might be too. But apparently we’re in for one of those days.”
Celestia furrowed her brow. “What days? Please, tell me what’s going on here?”
After a heavy sigh, the mare met Celestia’s eyes. “Princess, have you ever lived with a pony who you loved dearly on the one hoof, but who drove you absolutely bloody mad on the other?”
And after no small amount of reflection, Celestia raised the mug again, holding it just clear of her lips with as much self-control as she had ever mustered. In time, though, she took a long sip of the eye-wateringly potent beverage, letting it burn down her throat in a trail of unquenchable fire. Celestia crinkled her muzzle and coughed, then held the mug a safer distance away, just in case it should spontaneously combust.
“Yes,” she said at length. “Yes, I suppose I have.”
Author's Note
Additional credit is owed to Posh for his Calamity From the Skies, whose description and chapter title inspired these. Domo arigatou, Pantsu-senpai ~
