Grey Eyesby smakleappChaptersBreatheSleepHello MotherUnknown CircumstanceOld MemoriesBreatheLet’s practice breathing. It’s easy. You just need to follow these simple rules. Here, let’s do it together. Ready? Listen closely to your heart beat. Listen to it’s thumps. Listen to it’s noise. This is your battery. Don’t forget this, ok? Remember. Now, let’s begin. The roads were filled with fire ridden debris, parts of buildings, parts of the road itself. Bodies laid down upon the road too, all coldly lying in the street where their moving selves once were. Stiff. The air itself was a gray fog, looming over the dead. After an undetermined amount of minutes, the bodies remained in their stiff life forms, however the structures themselves became upright. Grace was as absent from the bodies as their color. They all got up as one. They all stared as one. And they all moved as one, all straightened as one, all listened as one, all had eyes as one. Take an inhale. Close your eyes. For 5 seconds hold your breath in. A few houses and shops stood among the side of the road. The creatures made no break on their pattern. The only abnormalities were the gray pegasi flapping their wings slowly, lifting 2 meters off the ground. Then, let it out. In an instant, the cold bodies stopped with inequine abruptness. A house stood alone amongst its neighbors rubble. Like a swarm of locusts, the pegasi began to furiously flap their wings, and a without hesitation, turned towards the house while remaining stiff. The others did so with precise timing. In slow agonizing steps, the crowd walked in front of the small downtown city house. They stood still, staring blankly into the windows. There was nothing except the hardwood floor, a fireplace that wasn’t used in days. Nothing living. The only movement made was the soft flutters of their ears. No emotion except for blank focus. Blank determination. The shells stayed there without a grasp on any sense of time. In fact, there was no sense at all. Everything was quiet now as the locust fluttering died down to an absolute zero. As one, the group turned, eyes gazing upon the grey mist that gathered around the city. Good job. That’s all you need to do. No, don’t cry. Listen. Breathe, and you’ll be ok. I promise. I never lied to you before, right? Let’s try again. The air almost grew thicker as more bodies began to slowly rise up from the road, and without warning, stiftly walked to their group. Breathe in. No don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Breathe. Breathe instead. Please breathe. No stop. Please, listen buddy, brea-no, shh, please you were doing so good. No I’m not mad, I just need you to be quieter. Please. Bre- CRASH The sound of breaking glass was accompanied by the locust flutter. The sound of glass cracking tracked through the floor and into the basement below. Three earth pony figures inhabited the room. A father, a mother, and a colt, who currently had tears streaming down his face, landing upon the fathers hoof, which was firmly clamped on the sons mouth. The father himself carried a shotgun, laying on his back. The family seemed to mock the creatures above by too standing still as a single being. Each breath, each tear. Everything was harmonized. Everything was equal. The father and mother shuddered with fear, with the dad pressing his hoof harder into his weeping sons muzzle. The concrete walls of the basement offered little warmth, with the mother shuttering. The dad eyed his wife, who quickly nodded and understood. Now with his family silent, the sounds came from upstairs. Slamming. Breaking. Everything the family earned in the last years were gone in a short instant. The father learned quickly what was going on. The silence of the basement and his family allowed him to analyze the steps. They varied in distance, but timing remained constant. It was always constant. The fathers eyes were taken from above to his son as he tapped his fathers arm which was now pressed so hard against the sons muzzle that he had trouble breathing. In pure fatherly reaction, the hoof was released. “Ugh.” One breath Not only did the steps stop, but so did any sound of the basement. All was silent, and all eyes now moved as one to the ceiling above. Nothing. In an instant, intense steps were heard, and in the next second, the ceiling opened up into wooden debris as a gray unicorn came rocketing down. Bang! The shot fired caused the head to expolode on impact. This did nothing but ensure a rush of the greys, as earth ponies sacrificed their hooves to attack their pray, landing on each other to brace their fall. The pegasi needed no such sacrifice. The basement was designed with no door, at least none of the traditional type. A trap door stood in the far corner of the room, and all three made a mad dash towards its opening. “Hurry!” screamed the father. “Hurry, oh fuck, hurry!” He fired a blank shot that only disabled a unicorns horn. It went down to the ground, but it’s face registered no pain. The father now threw open the trap door, climbed in the hidden passage, and turned back to help his young son in. The next second, he outstretched his hooves for his wife, who was visually shaken and scared of the growing mob behind her. “Roberta! Please! Please! Cmon!” “My knees. They’re in so much-CELESTIA FUCK, GO!” The last sight the child ever had of her mother was a lone gray hoof wrapped around her midsection, and with terrifying speed, pulling her out of sight for the last time. The father threw his eyes down to the ground as he took his son through the dirt tunnels he had installed a good while ago. A few seconds later and the monsters must have figured out how to open the trap door. They came to an entry way they entered in, a stone gateway. The father motioned for the child to help him push it open. They pushed with all their might and the giant stone slab slowly began to turn as the greys were right behind the two. It was as if gravity was taken from the panic tunnel. Emotions and ideas and any cognitive thought was liquid as it ran from the minds of the ponies. Tap tap tap The opening was still much too small, and it would only be a matter of seconds before they were feasted upon. The father stared at his son. Tap tap tap They could hear the shallow breathing, and so it would be upon them. Push. Tap tap tap One last look. One last stare. One last smile. One last declaration. “Son...I love you.” The son was incapable of speaking as his father used all his strength for one final push of the slab, then turned to the horde of grays. He fired a single shot. One. Single. Shot. The slab was open now enough just for the child to slip by as he heard...nothing. He heard no screams, only the tearing of flesh. His father made no sound. The last sound he ever wanted to make was telling his son he loved him. The turning slab now put the child in their living room. Previous thoughts slowly came back. He remembered how his mother called his dad paranoid. Scared. Overreacting. The child now ran out the door, rattling behind him as tears stung his face against the cold fog. He didn’t know what direction he was going, as he hadn’t learned too much yet in school. School. School. His friends. His life. He remembered the playground, and how the slide was so much fun to ride. It was his absolute favorite. So were the monkey bars, for a while at least. The child ran past the stiff bodies that lay on the ground, and he feared they would rise. There was nothing behind the child, no sound . He found an ally that had a rather large dumpster. Without thinking, the colt jumped inside of the dumpster, and despite the smell of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and other trash, there was little regret. The monkey bars. Those were fun for a while. He remembered climbing them, and he would show off to the fillies about how strong he was. A piece of gum. They would bet a piece of gum. By the end of the day he would have about 3 packs worth of gum in his pocket. Until he fell. It was after a rainstorm, and normally he wouldn’t do it, but they bet 5 sticks of gum he could do it. One slip onto his back. One slip. It was a far way down. He remembered the shocked expressions of his fellow classmates. The gasps. He failed. Simply put, he failed. And the pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it should have been. It came in waves, it was constant. But it wasn’t bad. Too bad that he couldn’t head. So he heard excuses of himself saying to do it, and the threats of calling their parents. And he remembered something his teacher told him. She looked down at him as he laid there, feeling sorry for himself that he messed up. He lost the bet. Looking back on it, it seemed a tad bit ridiculous . But then it was devastating, more so than the fall. The rain began to pour down as he sat inside the disgusting dumpster, hearing now the shuffle of the hooves and the sound of the wings. He heard it’s pat pat, but something sounded louder in his head, louder than anything he ever heard in his life. It was a mix between his teacher and his father. And they both gelled into one voice. One voice. One. Single. Voice. Breathe SleepSo your telling me- Yes. She knew it all along. Damn. Never knew she fucking had it in her. Vinyl, I don’t like that talk. Oh come off it. Ya just went and talked about some crazy sex filled story. Some? Were you not listening? Nah, I was. But I was also listening to these sweet potato fries telling me how delicious they are. You're impossible sometimes. Heh... ... Yo, wanna hear a story I have myself? Sure. As long as it’s not too vulgar. Careful, you’re being hypocritical. I promise you I’m not. Betty getting mad at her boyfriend for not pleasing her aint vulgar? Hmmf. It was implied. Implied my flank. Vinyl! Octy, want to hear the fucking story or not? ...sure. Ok well, I have a friend in the business, and he basically promoted concerts on a small level. Gets paid or whatever. So he’s telling me how one night he’s pitching my concert with some catchy slogan I forgot, and everyone’s eating it up. Like, mauling him for those tickets. Said it was the craziest shit he ever saw, excuse the language. That show, I remember, was absolutely insane. It was an energy unlike any other show. And the first show he did. The very first. So... So, Rude Octy, is that I hired the guy. He’s my advertisement guy now. And he’s done absolute wonders. Vinyl, I heard about the new hire. What’s the story.? Ms. Rude, take a fucking seat. Hold on a minute. Okay, okay. Ok, sooooooo, he has been having a few troubles lately with his personal life. And it’s crazy because he’s the type of stallion who seems to have a great life. Well, his sister suffered a panic attack a couple days ago, not the first time it happened either. Oh Celestia, that’s terrible. Was he ok? Aight, well yeah, he was a bit shaken up. I could imagine. Well, he came to me yesterday. Said he had a pitch. His sister, um, well, had a saying. He told me she said ‘The ones that live the longest die the quickest.’ Well he knew exactly what that meant. She would explain it to him and whatnot. Apparently it means that if you spend so much time on doing boring shit, your life will fizz out so quickly and nopony will ever, ever care. Vinyl, how is this a story? Because Neighstein, he goes up and says he knows the pitch. A twist. The Young Truly Live. ... Ehh? ... ...Octy? ...I dun get it. Oh cmon. Why not? Wouldn't that turn down the elderly? Yeah, Grandpa listens to Wub Wub 5000. You never know. Oh I do. And I know it’s genius. Be young again. They’ll eat that shit up. Isn't it about, I don’t know, liking your music? Well, yeah but- I don’t really get the story here Vinyl. No, it’s about how my guy came up with this genius phrase that you don’t understand. I understand it. That’s why I don’t think it’s great for a concert. Why? Wouldn’t you want to be young again? No. Oh cmon, you do. No, I really don’t. Oh, really? Why? Because when you're a tiny filly, everything is so constricted. Everything is so linear in the way you do things and see things. I don’t mean seven years old, Octy. I don’t either. I’m just saying that telling ponies to be young again can lead them down a spiral of childish behaviors. What the fuck is this autocratic bullshit Octy? What? Young, every fucking pony wants to be young! You're making a scene. I’m not making a bloody scene. How the hell are you convincing me ponies are absolutely fucking dandy with getting older? They’re not, and that’s the problem. It’s a story! Quit with the philosophical bullshit Octy. Fine! Fine! ... ... ... ... No, Octy- No, you're right. It’s a catchy saying. No Octy, listen- Vinyl, I realized what you need to do in your part of the business to succeed. I’m sorry I intruded. Wait, you don’t- More wine? ... Hmm? Yeah, ok. Red this time? Honestly, how about a Jack Haynials? Yeah, no. Heh, red it is. At this point the city was resting. There was very little sound coming out of the gray outside. Pillaging finally died down after ponies discovered the risks were too high. It was peaceful, at this point. Made some think nothing was wrong. If they didn’t know better, they would be running outside, smiling in the warm sun. The sun was a luxury. The gray skies would block both it and the moon. It was never day. It was never night. It was only gray. A figure began to walk along the road. She wasn’t stiff, if anything moving as lucid as possible. She was a gray mare, which perfectly matched the scene around her. She carried a pack on her back, and a bat she chomped down on in her mouth. Her head moved from building to building, ears straight as an arrow. She was keen on any sound, any at all. Sweat dripped off of her fluffy muzzle and onto the ground. After minutes down the road, the earth mare entered inside a store. A music store. It was an overall small store, one room. It had almost nothing here except pianos too durable to break. There was a poster of the gray mare herself winking. Believe and Achieve, that’s what she thought it said. She hesitated not for this room though. She quickly made her way to the back room. A smallish storage closet, meant to block out the noise from the outside. It would be perfect. Gingerly placing the bat down, the mare took off her sack and pulled out a curled up air mattress. It took her 5 minutes to blow it up, each breath done to be quiet in case there were any prowlers outside. She took out a can of beans, and dented it with the bat. She waited seconds after the small ding before she continued on. She grabbed a spoon, and smiled at her manners that still persevered after all that happened. She began to eagerly eat the cold beans, chomping and munching. She pulled a book out of her pack. Poems of Intellectual Minds She smiled as she closed her eyes and opened to a random page. When she opened them, she saw a short poem she hadn’t read yet. Restless- By Elly Dan With a snort through her nose, the mare began reading. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around And no matter what anyone says I can’t get too low Because what everyone says Is I need to let it go Short. That was her first thought. Short. Too short. She read it again. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around And no matter what anyone says I can’t get too low Because what everyone says Is I need to let it go Again. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around- Again. Ineedsleep Timetooutthisheaddown ButnomatterwhatItry Iknowtheworldspinsaround Again. I need sleep I need sleep I need sleep I need sleep to sleep to sleep I need to sleep let me sleep why can’t I sleep please sleep I need to sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep let me sleep I don’t want to dream sleeeeepepepeepepdjfjdjd- The lone lightbulb that was on before shone a single light on a sleeping mare, as she unconsciously cried among the dead. She slept, and was granted with a present. A dreamless sleep. Transcript of Bucky's Palace Final Episode Interruption [a scene of Bucky from Bucky's Palace] Why hi y’all! This is another episode of Bucky's Palace! I’m Bucky! I wish I could show you my friends, but that brings bad news kiddos. This is unfortunately the final episode ever of Bucky's Palace. I know we had so much fun with our fluffy friends, but hey, I got one more lesson for you kiddos! Now, we are in Fillydelphia right now kids, because you might have heard about the big bad accident in Canterlot! Well there is nothing to be afraid of! Buckys here! So here’s the lesson! You- [interrupted by the mere sound of the live show out on by Little Kettles filmed a week before. Image still is Bucky, audio playing over his mouth] Daisy, Daisy! Give me your answer- It doesn’t matter if your scared, you- All for the love of you- Stay calm- I’ll never smile again- And if it does spread- Until I smile at you- Be ready- Thank you! Thank you! Have a good night! Ok Bucky signing off. Good luck kiddos! Let’s sing the Bucky song while we leave! Ready? Bucky is your- … [one final unknown interruption] Good night. Hello MotherOh how much you changed. You changed because you could survive without it. How much you walked away from me. How soon you denounced me. How soon will you villainize me. How much you changed. (Message found in Horse Code at the Fillydelphia Radio Station, 97.6) The hospital walls were a pale white, accented with the flickering overhead lights. The waiting room wasn’t entirely empty. There sat a few with broken hooves, noses, and some with the flu. Two ponies in particular sat down in the waiting room. A light purple unicorn sat with her hooves to her face, her eyes brimmed with tears that refused to fully give way. A darker purple shaded unicorn was reading a magazine, her eye fixated on the young celebrities on each page. “Starlight?” asked the light purple unicorn. “Yeah Twilight?” “How long? How long is this gonna be?” Starlight shifted in her seat so she was staring straight at her friend. “Twilight, please. There’s no reason to talk about work right now.” “Starlight, I just can’t stop thinking about-“ A hoof on her shoulder. “You have to. You have to focus and let go just for a couple of minutes. It’s good you care, but take care of yourself.” Twilight nodded. “Twilight Sparkle?” Twilight turned to see Nurse Redheart standing in front of the infirmary. She wore a cute little smile, and soft eyes. Twilight particularly enjoyed the eyes, she always did. It helped her see everything was alright. Twilight sighed. “Yes Red?” “Your mothers in a stable condition now. She just woke up, her heart rates normal. We did a brain scan. There’s something off with her frontal lobe, so she might have trouble recalling events perfectly.” Twilight nodded. “That’s quite alright.” As she began to make her way out of her seat, she turned to Starlight. “Stay here. I want to talk with her alone for now.” Starlight nodded, motioning her to go on without her. Twilight smiled and hugged her one last time as she walked with Nurse Redheart down the infirmary. Twilight forgot how big this unit could really be. The hallways seemed larger than life. The doors looked reinforced beyond all Tartarus. “Ya know, a lot of those poor souls from the incident are quite tame now.” Twilight was shocked by her voice but recovered enough in order to answer. “Yeah, that might mean they are getting better.” “I hear they’re calling them Stiffers.” “Stiffers?” Red nodded. “Oh yeah, cause how they walk.” “Oh...right.” “I mean, that’s what they say over the radio. The radio that works, am I right?” “Yes, I suppose.” “I think it’s because of all those radio shows based in Canterlot.” She shook her head as she rounded a corner. “It’s so terrible. I hope it ends soon. I just hope they took him Twilight, he’s gone, I couldn’t do anything.” Twilight stopped dead in her tracks. “Wait what?” Redheart turned to look around, stopping equally with Twilight's movements, as if she knew she was going to stop. “I was just saying how much of a murderous piece of shit you are. You ruined ponies' lives you pathetic excuse for a princess.” Twilight's heart dropped as her back hooves gave way and she crashed against the wall. Nopony cared inside the long hall, nusrses going upon their way. “Your a fucking disgrace, you know that, don’t you?” Twilight looked up at the Nurse. The hallway was now a blaring red, and sounds of loud beeping noises filled her ears as Redheart snarled. “You caused this fucking catastrophe. Your useless now, you're useless.” Twilight found herself at a lost for breath, and time began to slow. She felt the Nurses hot breath against her, and her voice became raspy and unpleasant. “Shit for brains. You know that? Shit for fucking brains. Look at your mother.” Twilight whimpered, “I-I’m going t-to…” “YOU'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU AREN'T THERE! YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION!” Bang. The beeping immediately seized. The hospital was normal again, and she found herself standing up. She was on her own hooves. (My own hooves?) She looked around for a few more- “Twilight!” Twilight was jolted again as she realized Redheart was only a few feet in front of her, looking back with concerned (eyes) eyes. You were tired, that’s all. Play it cool. Don’t act crazy. Twilight gulped. “Wuh?” Great job. Redheart began trotting over to her friend. “You kind of zoned out for a couple of seconds.” “Yeah, you know, I’m just pretty tired. From what’s happening.” “Yeah, no, of course! Do you want to rescheduale your visit? I can!” Twilight shook her head quickly. “No, that’s fine. I’m good.” She forced herself to smile. “My nap has rejuvenated me.” Redheart chuckled a little, and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Ok, it’s ok now. “Alright well then we’re on our way.” With a giggle, she turned around and began on her way. With one more deep breath, Twilight continued. They eventually placed themselves in front of a hospital door. Twilight strained her eyes to try and see her mother inside, but failed. “Twilight,” Redheart began, “your mother might be a little loopy.” She began to purse her lips, throwing Twilight off guard. “She’s different, Twiligiht. At least for now.” I know, I know. Twilight smiled. “Thanks Red, it’s ok. I’m ready.” Red gave a little smile. “Ok, well, we set up a chair for you, and she should be awake.” As she went to turn away, she looked back for one last second. “Good luck.” Twilight could only nod as her friend (Nurse) walked away. She stared at the door for seconds, her mind unable to make a definitive sense. “Miss?” Twilight turned around to see the hospital was gone. Instead, a grassy field. In front of her was a small unicorn, a mini self. “Miss? What’s wrong.” Twilight smiled. “No, no, nothings wrong.” Mini-T moved her head sideways. “Then why are you taking so long?” Twilight laughed, and put her head down, shaking it back and forth. “I don’t know. I guess there’s no reason, is there?” The child smiled, and as she did this, Twilight closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was back in the hospital. The low beeping (huh), the sound of hoof steps. It all made Twilight realize she was back at her previous point of destination. It was all real, and confined. (No reason not to) Twilight was comforted by the fact of being real again, and she opened the door with confidence she did not previously have. The room was small and quaint, that was the best way to put it. A tv stood opposite of the hospital bed where Twilights mother rested. Her mother’s large bed was rather out of place. This room was baby’s blue, and had the smell of grapes. It was a room that could house a small child. A new house, new possibilities. Perhaps a drawing on the wall from crayons that get the parents mad. The baby blue made everything look so innocent. The beeping(it’s constant, isn’t it?) of the system her mother was on, the bed itself, the mother herself, the chair beside it. It was all so...out of place. My mother. Twilight drew her eyes from the wall to her mother. She looked well, all things considered. Her eyes had bags, her ligaments stress marks. Besides that, her mother looked as she had last time Twilight saw her. She expected more change to be honest. She expected her to be a husk, or perhaps dust. She thought her eyes would be more dull, not colorful and lively as they were now. She thought her mane would be stringy, and her horn crusty and old. Again, none of this characterized Twilight Velvet. She looked unchanged. This thing that was inside of her didn’t change her. Twilight didn’t know which result would have been more tragic. Velvets eyes were fixed on the window she had at the end of the room. Ponyvilles country side. Beautiful, full of life. It showed the grassy planes, it showed the working class going about their day. Cutting grass, picking wild berries, hunting wild and dangerous animals. Wild grass, Twilght remembered the fillies singing. Stay out of the wild grass! She thought about her wild grass. 12th street. She hated this street because there were always ponies there that looked up to no good. 12th street. Beware. Twilight's chuckle was somehow more attention drawing than the door opening. Her mother looked slowly at Twilight, who was grateful she interrupted her train of thought. Her eyes squinted at her daughter. Wings, horn, yes, it was her’s alright. She smiled, lips pulling apart. “...Twilight?” Sweeter. Twilight knew she was always sweet, her voice was, but something about this was more ditsy. It made her sound like a grandma. (That’s the change) “Yes mom, it’s me. I came when I heard you woke up.” Velvet began to motion to the chair beside her bed. It was right next to the system keeping her mother heart rate. With a grin aimed at her mother, Twilight sat down. Silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, or uncomfortable. It was more like a war. A silent war. A war over what would be said first. “So Ma, do you rem-“ “Ya know,” Velvet interrupted, “that nurse is always so nice. Redheart? Oohhh, a doll that one.” Twilight pursed her lips in an attempt to smile. “Yeah, she’s great.” Velvets eyes were locked onto Twilights. “You know, back in Canterlot, you were friends, right?” “Yes.” “Ahh, she moved here with her parents. Oh, she was perfect. So mannered. Night Light loved her.” Twilight moved past the last sentence. “Mother, her parents died 4 years ago. Remeber? We sent bouquets of flowers as a family.” Twilight Velvet squinted her eyes at the ceiling trying to remember. In seconds, her eyes widened and focused back to Twilight. She smiled again. “Ohhh, right!” (Sounds like a grandma) “I forgot.” Her smiled faded for a frown. “Oh, that’s terrible. I always thought you two would make a good match.” Twilight gasped in surprise. “Mother! Where did that come from?” Velvet's chuckle was quiet but it nonetheless brought Twilight more reassurance that her mother was better. “I’m just joking around. Ahhh, my youth. I remember it too. You know, I haven’t been in a hospital for 27 years. You weren’t born yet.” “Right.” “Shattered my leg for….” She stared back at the ceiling again. “Ahh dammit.” She slammed her front hooves down, which in reality, wasn’t too hard. “I can’t remember.” Twilight nodded. “Yeah, Red told me that.” “She did now? She knows what she’s talking about. So smart, the two of you…” “Mom!” “Heh.” “Where is this coming from?” Her eyes stayed pointing at the ceiling. “Oh Twilight, you need to love a bit more. Unlike me. Heh. I’m staying here now, and I barley remember why.” Her eyes averted back to her daughter. “I don’t want this to be you, dear. I want you to live. Afraid of her own shadow, my daughter.” “Mom.” Twilights voice was icy, breaking through her mother’s ramblings. “Hmm?” “What do you remember?” Her eyes once again stared up. “Oh, well, ya know, smoke, that I remember. Your father.” Sting. “We were leaving, running. We made it, and um…” She smiled. “I’m, forgetting soemthing, right?” “Ma, Dad’s-“ “Oh, he’s um, he’s somewhere else. Right. They took him somewhere else.” The eyes. “How is he doing?” Twilight felt as though she was stabbed in the heart. She might as well have been. Everything went numb. Her nerves felt as though they were turned off. Nothing, not even her mouth, moved. “Twilight?” Ringing. It’s back. Isn’t it? I hear it. “Twilight?” With a jolt, Twilgiths body returned back to control. “Oh, I’m...he’s fine. Like you.” At this point, Velvet was sitting up. With a sigh of relief, she laid back down. “Ah. That’s good. He was always strong, your father.” “...right, yeah.” Twilight quickly cleared her throat, a old gurgling sound that took her mother's attention. “Um, Mom, if you don’t mind me asking, you remember what happened?” She shrugged. “Yes, only the beginning of it. I don’t remeber us getting out.” Her eyes studied her daughter. “Well, they told me I escaped. I assumed with Night Light, they didn’t say.” “They didn’t?” Velvet shook her head. “No, no. Just said I escaped, asked me if I remember why. I said yes, and they were happy about that. They were happy I remembered that the fog came.” Twilight shook her head, attempting to dispel her thoughts as she needed to understand more. “Ok, but Mom, who’s they?” “The nurses.” “Ok. Good.” “Yes well, I’m still pretty confused.” Her facial features tightened in worry as she suddenly looked at her daughter square in the eyes. “Am I lucky Twilight?” For seconds, Twilight had no clue what to say. Her mind racked between the truth or lies. “It’s a miracle, yes.” “So there are others still stuck?” Twilight nodded. Velvet stared up at the ceiling, her eyes watering. “Are you going to get them out?” “Yes.” Twilight put her hoof in her mother’s, as she turned to look at her daughter. “It’s been so hard.” “I know.” “I-I can’t breathe somethimes I get so upset.” “Mother, you’ve been awake for an hour.” “I know, but before this.” “You never told me that.” “I didn’t want you to worry.” Twilight forced herself to smile. “I’m not worrying ma. It’s alright to panic sometimes.” Twilight leaned in. “I panic sometimes too. All the time actually. My hooves get shaky, numb, swollen. My eyesight gets blurry. And my breath gets shallow as well.” “Do you make it go away?” “Yes.” “How?” Twilight's eyes themselves brimmed with tears. “I, um, I focus on the good, you know, and I get better.” Velvet smiled. “Thanks Twilight.” They sat there for another minute in complete silence, holding each other for warmth and comfort. They didn’t want to speak, or so much of anything. They felt safe inside that bubble. They felt together, whole, strong. However, eventually they realized they must leave. They must say their goodbyes. Twilight made herself get out of her chair, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I better get going mom. I’ll come by some other time, ok?” She nodded. Twilight looked back at her one more time. “You look good mom.” And just like that, she was alone. In regards to what the citizens are calling the Grey, Canterlot is completely taken over. Many are suspicious about the Princess leaving for Fillydelphia the day before, while many say either it was a coincidence or perhaps not wishing to harm the sisters. Trapped ponies of notoriety is DJ-Pon3, real name Vinyl Scratch, violinist Octavia, and other business men like Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich. All are known over Equestira and we hope they are safe. Who could have cause the Grey is up to question, many believing Discord to be the reason. He has disappeared the day before, and a pony who was taking him in says she knows nothing. The Grey Containment Unit was formed yesterday, headed by Princess Twilight Sparkle, who promises to get ponies loved ones out of the deadly crowd, and that it is contained. Other news, Bono the Monkey has a wacky surprise for us! He- Manehattan Radio, 97.2 Unknown CircumstanceThe thing about a closet is that it makes it hard for the pony inside of it to tell what time of day it is. Octavia was in one of those states of mind where she knew she was awake, could see her surroundings, but she didn’t quite feel real yet. It was almost like a dream, and it very well could have been. A filter of yellow came over her violet eyes. The lone light she left on shined with a similar color. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, and she thought that perhaps she could stay like this forever. It was strangely warm and comfortable. Because she had no grasp on reality, she had no grasp on real problems. A dream that adheres to what she wanted. Peace. Quiet. She smiled, she knew that. It was so nice. Perhaps she could close her eyes, sleep once again. Anything was- Skkt skkt Any type of rest Octavia had instantly went away as soon as she heard the sound. It took her a second to get up on her shaky hooves. Her eyes wavered around the room, looking at the small inclined space she trapped herself in. Skkt skkt The corner. Yes, that’s where it seemed it was coming from. Behind the back wall. That made little sense, but yet the sound persisted. In the corner of the closet stood a tall metal shelf. When she first entered the closet, she paid no mind to it. The three levels were lined with varying cleaning supplies. “What?” she whispered underneath her breath. The blinking light did not help her anxiety, adding to it. It kept fading in and out. Skkkkktttt It was definitely behind the shelf. Octavia took a deep breath, with which she had trouble with, and began to pry the metal closet off of the wall without making any loud noises. It was a struggle, as she used all of her strength to lift the shelf, minding the shift of the freshners. She made little progress, needing to put the leg down slowly to regain her breath. With another deep breath, she began again. She had it facing diagonal. With much deliberation, Octavia tried to sneak her way through the small opening. Already she could see something existed beyond that point. It was a metal grate, one that must have been connected to the air ducts. Skkt skkt Octavia felt her body squeezed between the wall and shelf. Her eyes became just level with the grate. “Shoot.” She guessed it would be dark, and she was right. Her eyes had trouble adjusting to the darkness. She began to feel uneasy. Whatever was there, she couldn’t- Skkt skkt A tiny bird hopped into view. A robin, she would guess. Skkt skkt It’s claws scraped the metal floor of the air duct. So that was the sound. She smiled. It was funny, she couldn’t recall the last time she saw a bird. Granted it wasn’t flying, but maybe, just maybe… The bird stared directly at the earth pony, looking sideways. Octavia grinned, slowly. The bird's beak opened slightly, by a crack. A soft tweet escaped its mouth, perhaps because of the presence of another. The tweet caused Octavias back to straighten. It was unexpected. She was surprised to find out that the bolts of the vent door were out on one side, allowing her to swing the door open for the creature. Something caught Octavias eye. As the light of the room slowly went into the vent, it seemed as if something was in the back of the vent. The bird, however, jumped in front of Octavias straining eyes. He was close to the exit now, and Octavia craned her neck up as much as she could, and the bird hopped out. It looked toward the pony, almost thanking her. Thump Octavia didn’t turn right away. She was too busy having her spine sit up straight. Her sweat glands seemed to step it up in almost an instant. The closet became colder to Octy. The sound made everything stand still, everything seemed to stay in place. Thump Octavia slowly, as slow as she could, moved her neck back in front of the vent, hairs standing on her body. Her eyes gazed upon the dark metal corridor the bird was trapped in. And at the end, two grey eyes of a filly stared back. “OH SHO-” Pure instinct kicked in, as Octavia thrashed backward. Her body slammed against the metal shelf, causing it to tumble down at lightning speed. The crash could have been compared to a nuclear blast. A second later, Octavia got a view of her perpetrator. It was indeed a filly pegasus, a rather small one at that. She had a poofy mane (Octavia would guess it was a shiny blue), and a mangled coat. It looked odd seeing something like that. A mismatch of that scale. Her cutie mark was a bouquet of flowers, the colors she couldn’t be sure of The bird began to tweet in fear. It tried flying out of the curling. The vacant portals were now fixed on the bird. The tiny wings that couldn’t have been fully developed flapped furiously, and she slowly lifted off the ground toward the small bird. “No!” Octavia surged forward, grabbing her bat from the corner and slamming it against the creature's cranium. It immediately fell down to the floor, twitching. Octavia raised her bat above the things head, ready for a finishing blow. You know, I would love a little filly. The bat hung in the sky, Octavias eyes wide. With haste, Octavia creeped to the corner, grabbed her belongings, put the bat in her mouth, and pushed her back to the door. Octavia turned into the open space of the store she went to a day before hoping no greys were present in the store. She was kinda right. Greys stared against the store outside, all pressed up against the glass. They weren’t exactly staring at the grey pony, sometimes staring off somewhere else in the store. Octavia looked behind her at the janitor's closet, where the filly still was. She sighed, and ran to the back. She pushed open the fire escape door, and the alarms immediately started blaring. It led into an alley. In front of her stood a building and a convenient fire escape ladder that led to the roof. Octavia jumped up across the ladder, as she heard the store behind her being thrashed. She climbed for a minute, having to take a five second break to catch her breath. She made it onto the rooftop, and was immediately met with a problem. “What in the world am I supposed to do now?” She realized how cheesy it sounded censored, and it made her laugh. She still held that true. Her brief moment of self-appreciation was broken up as she heard the clanking of metal behind her. Added to this was the sound of dove bombing above her. She looked up to see a pair of greys circling her like vultures. Octavia began to run to the other side of the rooftop, and gazed back to see the pegasus greys on her tail. Her bat slammed against one's face, but another one grabbed her arm. She yelped in surprise as the grip tightened. The pegasus momentum caused Octavia to be lurched forward, her feet eventually left the ground. She kicked at the air, trying to somehow kick off the air. It was surprisingly futile, as the grey picked her up more and more. Octavia saw that a horde of greys struggled to climb up the ladder. She was pulled higher and higher into the air. Eventually, she was soaring above most buildings, looking down at the streets. The grey seems to try and grab Octavia up closer to its body, as if it was trying to absorb her. Octavia felt her arm slipping after each attempted pull. A jerk upwards sent her bat falling downward onto the street below. Her backpack hung loosely from her free arm, and with much deliberation, Octavia used all of her strength to swing the backpack over her head. It slammed the pegasus in its head, and the stallion's grip loosened as it screeched in pain. Octavia instantly began to drop. The air slammed across her back and produced a soundtrack to her departure. She closed her eyes as she came close to the ground. Her last thought... I wonder if anyone will know. She saw a dash of blue before all she saw was black. And she was out. Old MemoriesOctavia pushed open the ears of the Grand Ball to enter into its entrance. It has an overhang, gold of course, and a red walkway. Octavia walked past none of these things, instead deciding to lean against the wall of the building. This was to the left of the overhang, allowing her to gaze upon the structure she entered and exited. The Ball was one of the main places in Canterlot. It was exceptionally famous, second only to the castle. Usually it offered expensive dinners that tourists would gobble up and rave about. Octavia looked back at the doors. A hall led from it to the ballroom. The sound of running hooves took Octavias gaze off the doors and into the street ahead of her. There she saw a white coated mare sprinting through the roads. Octavia shrugged, reached into the nap sack that hung over her back, and pulled out a cigarette packet. She pulled out a single cigarette, materialized a lighter from the same place, and lit it. She took one long smoke, and her tense muscles were alleviated. Octavia looked up to see the pony more clearly. She had a violently blue mane, a white coat, a record player cutie mark, and large red glasses. She was a mess. She wore clothing, which didn’t shock Octavia in the slightest. Her mane was ruffled, looking as if she literally threw a comb at it. The mare ran up the steps, and Octavia assumed that she would run right past her to the ball. However, she was shocked to see that the mare in fact did not run past her, instead stopping right in front of her, panting so hard it would seem she would take all the oxygen out of the sky. Octavia leaned forward off the wall, and raised an eyebrow as the mare seemed to try and speak. “Oh, oh, alright, um -whoo boy- um hi-shit-there should be a reservation under...hold on.” She took in another inhale. “Um, something under Vinyl Scratch.” Octavia tilted her head. “Ma’am, are you sure you're in the right place?” Her eyes stared at large beads of sweat that began to run down the pony’s back. She nodded her head. “Yeah, The Grand Ball’s Fine Dining, right?” “Well, yes.” “Ok, perfect! Then um, I should be written down there. Vinyl Scratch.” She smiled. Her teeth looked as though they were brushed 20 times in the last ten minutes, and that was more than double the times in the past month. Octavia cocked an eyebrow again. “Ma’am-” “Call me Vinyl.” “Ma’am-” “Oh, ok.” Octavias teeth gritted. “Ma’am, I’m not the receptionist.” She wiggled her cigarette, indicating that she was just enjoying her smoke break. Vinyls' eyes glanced at tht roll of tobacco, and then looked back up at Octavia. “Oooh, smoking is bad for you.” Octavia rolled her eyes. “So I’ve been told.” Vinyl looked closer at this strange pony. She was dressed exquisitely. She was proud of that word. She wore a suit, black tuxedo, white undershirt, that ran along her back, giving her a fancy look. She wore a campy pink bow tie as well, that threw Vinyl off. “Ya know, it can cause cancer.” “I’m very careful.” “I mean, you can die.” “Yes. I know.” “Well, then its kinda dumb.” “Well ma’am, I’m sorry my habits disturb you, but there’s not much to do at this point.” Vinyl tilted her head, her spikey blue mane sweeping to the other side. “Why do you talk funny?” “What do you mean?” Her royal accent came through in that sentence, as if on que. “Wow, that accent is, like, intoxicating.” For what seemed like the hundredth time, Octavia rolled her eyes. “I appreciate it.” Vinyl poked a hoof at Octavia. “Are you Royal?” Ahh what the hell. Octavia shrugged. “Yeah, my mom and dad play in the royal choir.” Vinyl's eyes showed her being genuinely impressed, which surprised the gray pony. She didn’t seem like one who would be impressed by something like that. Most ponies weren’t. Even the musical gurus she knew from party’s she would go to. Everyone always nodded, commenting how much of a respectable job that was, good paying. It was af if the other royals were not impressed due to them having it better. She supposed they did. They always did. Her family plays violins for a living, and yet they have a multi million gold business. They always had real relations with the Princess, they always had servants and money and ideas and money and friends and dates and money and- “Hey. Rip Van Twinkle. What happened, you fell into the Moonlight Zone?” Octavia shook her head awake. “No, sorry, just thinking. That’s all.” Vinyl smiled. “So how did you get this receptionist gig?” “...I didn't.” Vinyl's smile faded away. “Oh, right, shoot.” Then, in a sudden instant, her eyes exploded with realization. “OH SHIT, I’M LATE!” She galloped quickly away, sprinting inside the ball. Octavia simply glared, smirking. She had trouble defining what just happened. It was perhaps because she did not know the nature of what occurred. She shrugged. Didn’t matter to her. She had a new warmth inside of her, one she had difficulty expressing. It felt like a warm fireplace, gently nipping heat at her body. Its ashes would be small, weak. It would never grow into a raging embler, but it wouldn’t die like a diminished flame. It just burned brightly, content with how it was at that moment. She took another puff of her cigarette. She made to throw it on the floor, stopping halfway. Instead, she found a trash can on the other side of the wall. She shook the flame out, and flicked the butt in. She stared for a moment, and then turned around, hearing the door fling open. A second later, she saw Vinyl walking out, her eyes wide, stressfully pulling her mane back. She was halfway past the walkway when Octavia called out to her. “Hey! Everything is alright?” She whipped around, and her blue electric mane jiggled in place. “Oh uh yeah!” She said out of breath. “My uh, date just apparently left, like i just missed her. I’m trying to see if I can see her.” Octavia raised an eyebrow. “If she just left, wouldn’t you have seen her when you were talking with me?” Vinyl's face became puzzled. “So that means-“ “-she’s been gone.” Octavia finished. Vinyls laughed, one that was overwhelmingly sad. She put her hoof over her face, trying to hide her smile. “Damn it, I did it again.” Octavia smiled, trying to help. “You can just contact her later, no?” Vinyl waved a hoof in dismissal. “Nah, no point. Ya know, it was a random date, picked it up. I dunno, ain’t no point in contacting her back.” “Well, you should most likely go in and cancel your reservation.” “Yeah…” She looked at the ground for a while. Octavias eyes were fixated upon her. Eventually, after flashing a brief smile, she made her way back into the hotel. Octavia stared at the door as Viny’s figure went through. A deep breath. She didn’t know what to think. She made her way toward the street. She had to go home. But at the moment, she wasn’t sure where that was. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Elbows up. You're not a slouch, stop acting like it.” “Yes mother.” “And you keep missing a note.” “Which one mother?” “I don’t know, somewhere in the middle.” The living room was huge. Velvet carpets, brown walls, beautiful art. Octavia felt the heat behind her. Sweat dripped down her back. It was in the afternoon, it made little sense for the fireplace to be lit. Yet it was. It always was. In front of her sat mother, a scowl on her face. Disappointed. Her light brown fur wrinkled. She sat on the velvet couch judging. Octavia looked past her mother at the dining room that was open to her. A large table. It was convenient to eat and then make your way into the living room. It- “Hey, Octavia, what are you staring at?” Octavia hugged the cello closer to her body. “I don’t kn-” “Stand up straight, and for pete sake, bend your elbows!” Octavia nodded, and adjusted herself. With one hoof, she straightened the bow tie around her neck. She then bent down, and picked up the dropped bow. “Better.” Her mother raised a hoof, and Octavia slightly flinched, despite the distance between the two. The mother didn’t notice. “Haydric Chopin, Nocturne No. 2.” Octavia nodded, and began to play. 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4. Keep the tempo o=up. She felt her hooves graze the delicate strings, her bow moved gracefully. The sound was beautiful. Pure. Her hood moved again, her head bobbing with the music. Up, down, up, down. Perfect timing. Take a deep breath. She moved the bow at perfect speed, neither going too fast or slow. She began to tap her foot, closing her eyes. This one was perfect. It was phenomenal. She could feel it. Mother must be smiling, must be in awe. Perhaps not smiling, her jaw agape. Her dad would come home soon, and hear about the marvel of her daughter. Eleven years old, plays beautifully. Maybe, just maybe, she can no longer be homeschooled. Maybe she could even play outside. Maybe they would listen. Maybe they would smile, hug her for a moment, and say we love you. And hug her and love her and say that- “BEND THOSE ELBOWS!” The music stopped short. Octavias eyes flared open, and before she knew what was happening, she opened her mouth. “WHY DOES IT MATTER?” A look of shock entered her mothers face for only a second. She got up swiftly, striding over to her daughter. With one motion, her hoof came down upon Octavias face. The eyes that once held anger now only held tears. It stung, and as Octavia looked back up to her mother, she looked defeated. That quickly. “Young lady, I don’t know who you think you are speaking to me in such a tone. Your father should hear about this.” “No…” “No?” Her mother’s eyes looked amused. “Maybe you should have thought differently before you spoke to me in such ways. A mare always thinks, and is always mature. That, Octavia, was just the opposite. We never raised you this way.” Octavia looked at the ground, tears falling down her face. “But mother, I’m a filly.” Her mother scoffed, and grabbed at Octavias chin. She forced her to look into her eyes. “A filly? And that’s what you want to be? You wish to be ignorant, to be stupid, to be childish? You want to ruin everything because you are a filly? Nopony respects fillies dear. They are nothing. They are worthless equines who cannot think for themselves. You are different because we made you different. Do you want to do something in your life?” Octavia said nothing. “Hmm? Do you?” Forced, Octavia nodded her head. The mothers hoof left her chin. She smiled. “Perhaps your father does not need to hear about this. As long as you play exceptionally well this time.” Octavia nodded yes. Her mother trotted back to the couch, sitting down. She pointed toward her daughter, who’s tears continually streamed down her face. She showed disgust. “Please, wip your tears away. Nobody wants to see a mare cry like that.” Octavia did so. Her mother waited a moment. Octavia stared back up at her matriarch. She tried desperately to find an ounce of love in her cold dark stare. It couldn’t have been this bad, was it? It wasn’t like this at all, it was better. Sure it was hard, but never like this! They loved her, she knew that. They were always there for her, at every meal. Every meal cooked by a chef. And they stood by her education. As in staring at the room in which her and her tutor were. They cared, right? It was more than just her name. Melody. She was more than that. They cared. “From the top.” Little Octavia nodded, and began again. It still stung. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Thank you for keeping my cello here Clarence. It really helped me out.” A yellow unicorn nodded his head. He had on a tuxedo. A small black bow tie. “Of course Octy. Thanks for agreeing to do the morning service here too!’ She nodded. He smiled, his teeth whiter than they should have been, and then he made his way behind her, past the stage into the kitchen. She looked out from the stage. Rich ponies were eating eggs benedict on a Manehattan Muffin. Chowing down. Barley listening to her. It was usually the same at these gigs. She was the background for the ponies stories. A soundtrack. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She looked out into the crowd, and saw a past-vacant seat now filled. A white unicorn with an electric blue man sat with a bunch of other ponies. They laughed and talked as if she wasn’t there, perhaps because she wasn’t. But it didn’t matter. She seemed to say, play whatever you want! Surprise me! Take a chance! She didn’t know why it was her, but Octy smiled. Her own song. She could do that. She smiled, picked up her bow, and glanced at the sheet of music in front of her. Whatever she wanted… Octavia began to play Nocturne No. 2
BreatheLet’s practice breathing. It’s easy. You just need to follow these simple rules. Here, let’s do it together. Ready? Listen closely to your heart beat. Listen to it’s thumps. Listen to it’s noise. This is your battery. Don’t forget this, ok? Remember. Now, let’s begin. The roads were filled with fire ridden debris, parts of buildings, parts of the road itself. Bodies laid down upon the road too, all coldly lying in the street where their moving selves once were. Stiff. The air itself was a gray fog, looming over the dead. After an undetermined amount of minutes, the bodies remained in their stiff life forms, however the structures themselves became upright. Grace was as absent from the bodies as their color. They all got up as one. They all stared as one. And they all moved as one, all straightened as one, all listened as one, all had eyes as one. Take an inhale. Close your eyes. For 5 seconds hold your breath in. A few houses and shops stood among the side of the road. The creatures made no break on their pattern. The only abnormalities were the gray pegasi flapping their wings slowly, lifting 2 meters off the ground. Then, let it out. In an instant, the cold bodies stopped with inequine abruptness. A house stood alone amongst its neighbors rubble. Like a swarm of locusts, the pegasi began to furiously flap their wings, and a without hesitation, turned towards the house while remaining stiff. The others did so with precise timing. In slow agonizing steps, the crowd walked in front of the small downtown city house. They stood still, staring blankly into the windows. There was nothing except the hardwood floor, a fireplace that wasn’t used in days. Nothing living. The only movement made was the soft flutters of their ears. No emotion except for blank focus. Blank determination. The shells stayed there without a grasp on any sense of time. In fact, there was no sense at all. Everything was quiet now as the locust fluttering died down to an absolute zero. As one, the group turned, eyes gazing upon the grey mist that gathered around the city. Good job. That’s all you need to do. No, don’t cry. Listen. Breathe, and you’ll be ok. I promise. I never lied to you before, right? Let’s try again. The air almost grew thicker as more bodies began to slowly rise up from the road, and without warning, stiftly walked to their group. Breathe in. No don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Breathe. Breathe instead. Please breathe. No stop. Please, listen buddy, brea-no, shh, please you were doing so good. No I’m not mad, I just need you to be quieter. Please. Bre- CRASH The sound of breaking glass was accompanied by the locust flutter. The sound of glass cracking tracked through the floor and into the basement below. Three earth pony figures inhabited the room. A father, a mother, and a colt, who currently had tears streaming down his face, landing upon the fathers hoof, which was firmly clamped on the sons mouth. The father himself carried a shotgun, laying on his back. The family seemed to mock the creatures above by too standing still as a single being. Each breath, each tear. Everything was harmonized. Everything was equal. The father and mother shuddered with fear, with the dad pressing his hoof harder into his weeping sons muzzle. The concrete walls of the basement offered little warmth, with the mother shuttering. The dad eyed his wife, who quickly nodded and understood. Now with his family silent, the sounds came from upstairs. Slamming. Breaking. Everything the family earned in the last years were gone in a short instant. The father learned quickly what was going on. The silence of the basement and his family allowed him to analyze the steps. They varied in distance, but timing remained constant. It was always constant. The fathers eyes were taken from above to his son as he tapped his fathers arm which was now pressed so hard against the sons muzzle that he had trouble breathing. In pure fatherly reaction, the hoof was released. “Ugh.” One breath Not only did the steps stop, but so did any sound of the basement. All was silent, and all eyes now moved as one to the ceiling above. Nothing. In an instant, intense steps were heard, and in the next second, the ceiling opened up into wooden debris as a gray unicorn came rocketing down. Bang! The shot fired caused the head to expolode on impact. This did nothing but ensure a rush of the greys, as earth ponies sacrificed their hooves to attack their pray, landing on each other to brace their fall. The pegasi needed no such sacrifice. The basement was designed with no door, at least none of the traditional type. A trap door stood in the far corner of the room, and all three made a mad dash towards its opening. “Hurry!” screamed the father. “Hurry, oh fuck, hurry!” He fired a blank shot that only disabled a unicorns horn. It went down to the ground, but it’s face registered no pain. The father now threw open the trap door, climbed in the hidden passage, and turned back to help his young son in. The next second, he outstretched his hooves for his wife, who was visually shaken and scared of the growing mob behind her. “Roberta! Please! Please! Cmon!” “My knees. They’re in so much-CELESTIA FUCK, GO!” The last sight the child ever had of her mother was a lone gray hoof wrapped around her midsection, and with terrifying speed, pulling her out of sight for the last time. The father threw his eyes down to the ground as he took his son through the dirt tunnels he had installed a good while ago. A few seconds later and the monsters must have figured out how to open the trap door. They came to an entry way they entered in, a stone gateway. The father motioned for the child to help him push it open. They pushed with all their might and the giant stone slab slowly began to turn as the greys were right behind the two. It was as if gravity was taken from the panic tunnel. Emotions and ideas and any cognitive thought was liquid as it ran from the minds of the ponies. Tap tap tap The opening was still much too small, and it would only be a matter of seconds before they were feasted upon. The father stared at his son. Tap tap tap They could hear the shallow breathing, and so it would be upon them. Push. Tap tap tap One last look. One last stare. One last smile. One last declaration. “Son...I love you.” The son was incapable of speaking as his father used all his strength for one final push of the slab, then turned to the horde of grays. He fired a single shot. One. Single. Shot. The slab was open now enough just for the child to slip by as he heard...nothing. He heard no screams, only the tearing of flesh. His father made no sound. The last sound he ever wanted to make was telling his son he loved him. The turning slab now put the child in their living room. Previous thoughts slowly came back. He remembered how his mother called his dad paranoid. Scared. Overreacting. The child now ran out the door, rattling behind him as tears stung his face against the cold fog. He didn’t know what direction he was going, as he hadn’t learned too much yet in school. School. School. His friends. His life. He remembered the playground, and how the slide was so much fun to ride. It was his absolute favorite. So were the monkey bars, for a while at least. The child ran past the stiff bodies that lay on the ground, and he feared they would rise. There was nothing behind the child, no sound . He found an ally that had a rather large dumpster. Without thinking, the colt jumped inside of the dumpster, and despite the smell of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and other trash, there was little regret. The monkey bars. Those were fun for a while. He remembered climbing them, and he would show off to the fillies about how strong he was. A piece of gum. They would bet a piece of gum. By the end of the day he would have about 3 packs worth of gum in his pocket. Until he fell. It was after a rainstorm, and normally he wouldn’t do it, but they bet 5 sticks of gum he could do it. One slip onto his back. One slip. It was a far way down. He remembered the shocked expressions of his fellow classmates. The gasps. He failed. Simply put, he failed. And the pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it should have been. It came in waves, it was constant. But it wasn’t bad. Too bad that he couldn’t head. So he heard excuses of himself saying to do it, and the threats of calling their parents. And he remembered something his teacher told him. She looked down at him as he laid there, feeling sorry for himself that he messed up. He lost the bet. Looking back on it, it seemed a tad bit ridiculous . But then it was devastating, more so than the fall. The rain began to pour down as he sat inside the disgusting dumpster, hearing now the shuffle of the hooves and the sound of the wings. He heard it’s pat pat, but something sounded louder in his head, louder than anything he ever heard in his life. It was a mix between his teacher and his father. And they both gelled into one voice. One voice. One. Single. Voice. Breathe
SleepSo your telling me- Yes. She knew it all along. Damn. Never knew she fucking had it in her. Vinyl, I don’t like that talk. Oh come off it. Ya just went and talked about some crazy sex filled story. Some? Were you not listening? Nah, I was. But I was also listening to these sweet potato fries telling me how delicious they are. You're impossible sometimes. Heh... ... Yo, wanna hear a story I have myself? Sure. As long as it’s not too vulgar. Careful, you’re being hypocritical. I promise you I’m not. Betty getting mad at her boyfriend for not pleasing her aint vulgar? Hmmf. It was implied. Implied my flank. Vinyl! Octy, want to hear the fucking story or not? ...sure. Ok well, I have a friend in the business, and he basically promoted concerts on a small level. Gets paid or whatever. So he’s telling me how one night he’s pitching my concert with some catchy slogan I forgot, and everyone’s eating it up. Like, mauling him for those tickets. Said it was the craziest shit he ever saw, excuse the language. That show, I remember, was absolutely insane. It was an energy unlike any other show. And the first show he did. The very first. So... So, Rude Octy, is that I hired the guy. He’s my advertisement guy now. And he’s done absolute wonders. Vinyl, I heard about the new hire. What’s the story.? Ms. Rude, take a fucking seat. Hold on a minute. Okay, okay. Ok, sooooooo, he has been having a few troubles lately with his personal life. And it’s crazy because he’s the type of stallion who seems to have a great life. Well, his sister suffered a panic attack a couple days ago, not the first time it happened either. Oh Celestia, that’s terrible. Was he ok? Aight, well yeah, he was a bit shaken up. I could imagine. Well, he came to me yesterday. Said he had a pitch. His sister, um, well, had a saying. He told me she said ‘The ones that live the longest die the quickest.’ Well he knew exactly what that meant. She would explain it to him and whatnot. Apparently it means that if you spend so much time on doing boring shit, your life will fizz out so quickly and nopony will ever, ever care. Vinyl, how is this a story? Because Neighstein, he goes up and says he knows the pitch. A twist. The Young Truly Live. ... Ehh? ... ...Octy? ...I dun get it. Oh cmon. Why not? Wouldn't that turn down the elderly? Yeah, Grandpa listens to Wub Wub 5000. You never know. Oh I do. And I know it’s genius. Be young again. They’ll eat that shit up. Isn't it about, I don’t know, liking your music? Well, yeah but- I don’t really get the story here Vinyl. No, it’s about how my guy came up with this genius phrase that you don’t understand. I understand it. That’s why I don’t think it’s great for a concert. Why? Wouldn’t you want to be young again? No. Oh cmon, you do. No, I really don’t. Oh, really? Why? Because when you're a tiny filly, everything is so constricted. Everything is so linear in the way you do things and see things. I don’t mean seven years old, Octy. I don’t either. I’m just saying that telling ponies to be young again can lead them down a spiral of childish behaviors. What the fuck is this autocratic bullshit Octy? What? Young, every fucking pony wants to be young! You're making a scene. I’m not making a bloody scene. How the hell are you convincing me ponies are absolutely fucking dandy with getting older? They’re not, and that’s the problem. It’s a story! Quit with the philosophical bullshit Octy. Fine! Fine! ... ... ... ... No, Octy- No, you're right. It’s a catchy saying. No Octy, listen- Vinyl, I realized what you need to do in your part of the business to succeed. I’m sorry I intruded. Wait, you don’t- More wine? ... Hmm? Yeah, ok. Red this time? Honestly, how about a Jack Haynials? Yeah, no. Heh, red it is. At this point the city was resting. There was very little sound coming out of the gray outside. Pillaging finally died down after ponies discovered the risks were too high. It was peaceful, at this point. Made some think nothing was wrong. If they didn’t know better, they would be running outside, smiling in the warm sun. The sun was a luxury. The gray skies would block both it and the moon. It was never day. It was never night. It was only gray. A figure began to walk along the road. She wasn’t stiff, if anything moving as lucid as possible. She was a gray mare, which perfectly matched the scene around her. She carried a pack on her back, and a bat she chomped down on in her mouth. Her head moved from building to building, ears straight as an arrow. She was keen on any sound, any at all. Sweat dripped off of her fluffy muzzle and onto the ground. After minutes down the road, the earth mare entered inside a store. A music store. It was an overall small store, one room. It had almost nothing here except pianos too durable to break. There was a poster of the gray mare herself winking. Believe and Achieve, that’s what she thought it said. She hesitated not for this room though. She quickly made her way to the back room. A smallish storage closet, meant to block out the noise from the outside. It would be perfect. Gingerly placing the bat down, the mare took off her sack and pulled out a curled up air mattress. It took her 5 minutes to blow it up, each breath done to be quiet in case there were any prowlers outside. She took out a can of beans, and dented it with the bat. She waited seconds after the small ding before she continued on. She grabbed a spoon, and smiled at her manners that still persevered after all that happened. She began to eagerly eat the cold beans, chomping and munching. She pulled a book out of her pack. Poems of Intellectual Minds She smiled as she closed her eyes and opened to a random page. When she opened them, she saw a short poem she hadn’t read yet. Restless- By Elly Dan With a snort through her nose, the mare began reading. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around And no matter what anyone says I can’t get too low Because what everyone says Is I need to let it go Short. That was her first thought. Short. Too short. She read it again. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around And no matter what anyone says I can’t get too low Because what everyone says Is I need to let it go Again. I need sleep Time to put this head down But no matter what I try I know the world spins around- Again. Ineedsleep Timetooutthisheaddown ButnomatterwhatItry Iknowtheworldspinsaround Again. I need sleep I need sleep I need sleep I need sleep to sleep to sleep I need to sleep let me sleep why can’t I sleep please sleep I need to sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep let me sleep I don’t want to dream sleeeeepepepeepepdjfjdjd- The lone lightbulb that was on before shone a single light on a sleeping mare, as she unconsciously cried among the dead. She slept, and was granted with a present. A dreamless sleep. Transcript of Bucky's Palace Final Episode Interruption [a scene of Bucky from Bucky's Palace] Why hi y’all! This is another episode of Bucky's Palace! I’m Bucky! I wish I could show you my friends, but that brings bad news kiddos. This is unfortunately the final episode ever of Bucky's Palace. I know we had so much fun with our fluffy friends, but hey, I got one more lesson for you kiddos! Now, we are in Fillydelphia right now kids, because you might have heard about the big bad accident in Canterlot! Well there is nothing to be afraid of! Buckys here! So here’s the lesson! You- [interrupted by the mere sound of the live show out on by Little Kettles filmed a week before. Image still is Bucky, audio playing over his mouth] Daisy, Daisy! Give me your answer- It doesn’t matter if your scared, you- All for the love of you- Stay calm- I’ll never smile again- And if it does spread- Until I smile at you- Be ready- Thank you! Thank you! Have a good night! Ok Bucky signing off. Good luck kiddos! Let’s sing the Bucky song while we leave! Ready? Bucky is your- … [one final unknown interruption] Good night.
Hello MotherOh how much you changed. You changed because you could survive without it. How much you walked away from me. How soon you denounced me. How soon will you villainize me. How much you changed. (Message found in Horse Code at the Fillydelphia Radio Station, 97.6) The hospital walls were a pale white, accented with the flickering overhead lights. The waiting room wasn’t entirely empty. There sat a few with broken hooves, noses, and some with the flu. Two ponies in particular sat down in the waiting room. A light purple unicorn sat with her hooves to her face, her eyes brimmed with tears that refused to fully give way. A darker purple shaded unicorn was reading a magazine, her eye fixated on the young celebrities on each page. “Starlight?” asked the light purple unicorn. “Yeah Twilight?” “How long? How long is this gonna be?” Starlight shifted in her seat so she was staring straight at her friend. “Twilight, please. There’s no reason to talk about work right now.” “Starlight, I just can’t stop thinking about-“ A hoof on her shoulder. “You have to. You have to focus and let go just for a couple of minutes. It’s good you care, but take care of yourself.” Twilight nodded. “Twilight Sparkle?” Twilight turned to see Nurse Redheart standing in front of the infirmary. She wore a cute little smile, and soft eyes. Twilight particularly enjoyed the eyes, she always did. It helped her see everything was alright. Twilight sighed. “Yes Red?” “Your mothers in a stable condition now. She just woke up, her heart rates normal. We did a brain scan. There’s something off with her frontal lobe, so she might have trouble recalling events perfectly.” Twilight nodded. “That’s quite alright.” As she began to make her way out of her seat, she turned to Starlight. “Stay here. I want to talk with her alone for now.” Starlight nodded, motioning her to go on without her. Twilight smiled and hugged her one last time as she walked with Nurse Redheart down the infirmary. Twilight forgot how big this unit could really be. The hallways seemed larger than life. The doors looked reinforced beyond all Tartarus. “Ya know, a lot of those poor souls from the incident are quite tame now.” Twilight was shocked by her voice but recovered enough in order to answer. “Yeah, that might mean they are getting better.” “I hear they’re calling them Stiffers.” “Stiffers?” Red nodded. “Oh yeah, cause how they walk.” “Oh...right.” “I mean, that’s what they say over the radio. The radio that works, am I right?” “Yes, I suppose.” “I think it’s because of all those radio shows based in Canterlot.” She shook her head as she rounded a corner. “It’s so terrible. I hope it ends soon. I just hope they took him Twilight, he’s gone, I couldn’t do anything.” Twilight stopped dead in her tracks. “Wait what?” Redheart turned to look around, stopping equally with Twilight's movements, as if she knew she was going to stop. “I was just saying how much of a murderous piece of shit you are. You ruined ponies' lives you pathetic excuse for a princess.” Twilight's heart dropped as her back hooves gave way and she crashed against the wall. Nopony cared inside the long hall, nusrses going upon their way. “Your a fucking disgrace, you know that, don’t you?” Twilight looked up at the Nurse. The hallway was now a blaring red, and sounds of loud beeping noises filled her ears as Redheart snarled. “You caused this fucking catastrophe. Your useless now, you're useless.” Twilight found herself at a lost for breath, and time began to slow. She felt the Nurses hot breath against her, and her voice became raspy and unpleasant. “Shit for brains. You know that? Shit for fucking brains. Look at your mother.” Twilight whimpered, “I-I’m going t-to…” “YOU'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU AREN'T THERE! YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION!” Bang. The beeping immediately seized. The hospital was normal again, and she found herself standing up. She was on her own hooves. (My own hooves?) She looked around for a few more- “Twilight!” Twilight was jolted again as she realized Redheart was only a few feet in front of her, looking back with concerned (eyes) eyes. You were tired, that’s all. Play it cool. Don’t act crazy. Twilight gulped. “Wuh?” Great job. Redheart began trotting over to her friend. “You kind of zoned out for a couple of seconds.” “Yeah, you know, I’m just pretty tired. From what’s happening.” “Yeah, no, of course! Do you want to rescheduale your visit? I can!” Twilight shook her head quickly. “No, that’s fine. I’m good.” She forced herself to smile. “My nap has rejuvenated me.” Redheart chuckled a little, and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Ok, it’s ok now. “Alright well then we’re on our way.” With a giggle, she turned around and began on her way. With one more deep breath, Twilight continued. They eventually placed themselves in front of a hospital door. Twilight strained her eyes to try and see her mother inside, but failed. “Twilight,” Redheart began, “your mother might be a little loopy.” She began to purse her lips, throwing Twilight off guard. “She’s different, Twiligiht. At least for now.” I know, I know. Twilight smiled. “Thanks Red, it’s ok. I’m ready.” Red gave a little smile. “Ok, well, we set up a chair for you, and she should be awake.” As she went to turn away, she looked back for one last second. “Good luck.” Twilight could only nod as her friend (Nurse) walked away. She stared at the door for seconds, her mind unable to make a definitive sense. “Miss?” Twilight turned around to see the hospital was gone. Instead, a grassy field. In front of her was a small unicorn, a mini self. “Miss? What’s wrong.” Twilight smiled. “No, no, nothings wrong.” Mini-T moved her head sideways. “Then why are you taking so long?” Twilight laughed, and put her head down, shaking it back and forth. “I don’t know. I guess there’s no reason, is there?” The child smiled, and as she did this, Twilight closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was back in the hospital. The low beeping (huh), the sound of hoof steps. It all made Twilight realize she was back at her previous point of destination. It was all real, and confined. (No reason not to) Twilight was comforted by the fact of being real again, and she opened the door with confidence she did not previously have. The room was small and quaint, that was the best way to put it. A tv stood opposite of the hospital bed where Twilights mother rested. Her mother’s large bed was rather out of place. This room was baby’s blue, and had the smell of grapes. It was a room that could house a small child. A new house, new possibilities. Perhaps a drawing on the wall from crayons that get the parents mad. The baby blue made everything look so innocent. The beeping(it’s constant, isn’t it?) of the system her mother was on, the bed itself, the mother herself, the chair beside it. It was all so...out of place. My mother. Twilight drew her eyes from the wall to her mother. She looked well, all things considered. Her eyes had bags, her ligaments stress marks. Besides that, her mother looked as she had last time Twilight saw her. She expected more change to be honest. She expected her to be a husk, or perhaps dust. She thought her eyes would be more dull, not colorful and lively as they were now. She thought her mane would be stringy, and her horn crusty and old. Again, none of this characterized Twilight Velvet. She looked unchanged. This thing that was inside of her didn’t change her. Twilight didn’t know which result would have been more tragic. Velvets eyes were fixed on the window she had at the end of the room. Ponyvilles country side. Beautiful, full of life. It showed the grassy planes, it showed the working class going about their day. Cutting grass, picking wild berries, hunting wild and dangerous animals. Wild grass, Twilght remembered the fillies singing. Stay out of the wild grass! She thought about her wild grass. 12th street. She hated this street because there were always ponies there that looked up to no good. 12th street. Beware. Twilight's chuckle was somehow more attention drawing than the door opening. Her mother looked slowly at Twilight, who was grateful she interrupted her train of thought. Her eyes squinted at her daughter. Wings, horn, yes, it was her’s alright. She smiled, lips pulling apart. “...Twilight?” Sweeter. Twilight knew she was always sweet, her voice was, but something about this was more ditsy. It made her sound like a grandma. (That’s the change) “Yes mom, it’s me. I came when I heard you woke up.” Velvet began to motion to the chair beside her bed. It was right next to the system keeping her mother heart rate. With a grin aimed at her mother, Twilight sat down. Silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, or uncomfortable. It was more like a war. A silent war. A war over what would be said first. “So Ma, do you rem-“ “Ya know,” Velvet interrupted, “that nurse is always so nice. Redheart? Oohhh, a doll that one.” Twilight pursed her lips in an attempt to smile. “Yeah, she’s great.” Velvets eyes were locked onto Twilights. “You know, back in Canterlot, you were friends, right?” “Yes.” “Ahh, she moved here with her parents. Oh, she was perfect. So mannered. Night Light loved her.” Twilight moved past the last sentence. “Mother, her parents died 4 years ago. Remeber? We sent bouquets of flowers as a family.” Twilight Velvet squinted her eyes at the ceiling trying to remember. In seconds, her eyes widened and focused back to Twilight. She smiled again. “Ohhh, right!” (Sounds like a grandma) “I forgot.” Her smiled faded for a frown. “Oh, that’s terrible. I always thought you two would make a good match.” Twilight gasped in surprise. “Mother! Where did that come from?” Velvet's chuckle was quiet but it nonetheless brought Twilight more reassurance that her mother was better. “I’m just joking around. Ahhh, my youth. I remember it too. You know, I haven’t been in a hospital for 27 years. You weren’t born yet.” “Right.” “Shattered my leg for….” She stared back at the ceiling again. “Ahh dammit.” She slammed her front hooves down, which in reality, wasn’t too hard. “I can’t remember.” Twilight nodded. “Yeah, Red told me that.” “She did now? She knows what she’s talking about. So smart, the two of you…” “Mom!” “Heh.” “Where is this coming from?” Her eyes stayed pointing at the ceiling. “Oh Twilight, you need to love a bit more. Unlike me. Heh. I’m staying here now, and I barley remember why.” Her eyes averted back to her daughter. “I don’t want this to be you, dear. I want you to live. Afraid of her own shadow, my daughter.” “Mom.” Twilights voice was icy, breaking through her mother’s ramblings. “Hmm?” “What do you remember?” Her eyes once again stared up. “Oh, well, ya know, smoke, that I remember. Your father.” Sting. “We were leaving, running. We made it, and um…” She smiled. “I’m, forgetting soemthing, right?” “Ma, Dad’s-“ “Oh, he’s um, he’s somewhere else. Right. They took him somewhere else.” The eyes. “How is he doing?” Twilight felt as though she was stabbed in the heart. She might as well have been. Everything went numb. Her nerves felt as though they were turned off. Nothing, not even her mouth, moved. “Twilight?” Ringing. It’s back. Isn’t it? I hear it. “Twilight?” With a jolt, Twilgiths body returned back to control. “Oh, I’m...he’s fine. Like you.” At this point, Velvet was sitting up. With a sigh of relief, she laid back down. “Ah. That’s good. He was always strong, your father.” “...right, yeah.” Twilight quickly cleared her throat, a old gurgling sound that took her mother's attention. “Um, Mom, if you don’t mind me asking, you remember what happened?” She shrugged. “Yes, only the beginning of it. I don’t remeber us getting out.” Her eyes studied her daughter. “Well, they told me I escaped. I assumed with Night Light, they didn’t say.” “They didn’t?” Velvet shook her head. “No, no. Just said I escaped, asked me if I remember why. I said yes, and they were happy about that. They were happy I remembered that the fog came.” Twilight shook her head, attempting to dispel her thoughts as she needed to understand more. “Ok, but Mom, who’s they?” “The nurses.” “Ok. Good.” “Yes well, I’m still pretty confused.” Her facial features tightened in worry as she suddenly looked at her daughter square in the eyes. “Am I lucky Twilight?” For seconds, Twilight had no clue what to say. Her mind racked between the truth or lies. “It’s a miracle, yes.” “So there are others still stuck?” Twilight nodded. Velvet stared up at the ceiling, her eyes watering. “Are you going to get them out?” “Yes.” Twilight put her hoof in her mother’s, as she turned to look at her daughter. “It’s been so hard.” “I know.” “I-I can’t breathe somethimes I get so upset.” “Mother, you’ve been awake for an hour.” “I know, but before this.” “You never told me that.” “I didn’t want you to worry.” Twilight forced herself to smile. “I’m not worrying ma. It’s alright to panic sometimes.” Twilight leaned in. “I panic sometimes too. All the time actually. My hooves get shaky, numb, swollen. My eyesight gets blurry. And my breath gets shallow as well.” “Do you make it go away?” “Yes.” “How?” Twilight's eyes themselves brimmed with tears. “I, um, I focus on the good, you know, and I get better.” Velvet smiled. “Thanks Twilight.” They sat there for another minute in complete silence, holding each other for warmth and comfort. They didn’t want to speak, or so much of anything. They felt safe inside that bubble. They felt together, whole, strong. However, eventually they realized they must leave. They must say their goodbyes. Twilight made herself get out of her chair, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I better get going mom. I’ll come by some other time, ok?” She nodded. Twilight looked back at her one more time. “You look good mom.” And just like that, she was alone. In regards to what the citizens are calling the Grey, Canterlot is completely taken over. Many are suspicious about the Princess leaving for Fillydelphia the day before, while many say either it was a coincidence or perhaps not wishing to harm the sisters. Trapped ponies of notoriety is DJ-Pon3, real name Vinyl Scratch, violinist Octavia, and other business men like Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich. All are known over Equestira and we hope they are safe. Who could have cause the Grey is up to question, many believing Discord to be the reason. He has disappeared the day before, and a pony who was taking him in says she knows nothing. The Grey Containment Unit was formed yesterday, headed by Princess Twilight Sparkle, who promises to get ponies loved ones out of the deadly crowd, and that it is contained. Other news, Bono the Monkey has a wacky surprise for us! He- Manehattan Radio, 97.2
Unknown CircumstanceThe thing about a closet is that it makes it hard for the pony inside of it to tell what time of day it is. Octavia was in one of those states of mind where she knew she was awake, could see her surroundings, but she didn’t quite feel real yet. It was almost like a dream, and it very well could have been. A filter of yellow came over her violet eyes. The lone light she left on shined with a similar color. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, and she thought that perhaps she could stay like this forever. It was strangely warm and comfortable. Because she had no grasp on reality, she had no grasp on real problems. A dream that adheres to what she wanted. Peace. Quiet. She smiled, she knew that. It was so nice. Perhaps she could close her eyes, sleep once again. Anything was- Skkt skkt Any type of rest Octavia had instantly went away as soon as she heard the sound. It took her a second to get up on her shaky hooves. Her eyes wavered around the room, looking at the small inclined space she trapped herself in. Skkt skkt The corner. Yes, that’s where it seemed it was coming from. Behind the back wall. That made little sense, but yet the sound persisted. In the corner of the closet stood a tall metal shelf. When she first entered the closet, she paid no mind to it. The three levels were lined with varying cleaning supplies. “What?” she whispered underneath her breath. The blinking light did not help her anxiety, adding to it. It kept fading in and out. Skkkkktttt It was definitely behind the shelf. Octavia took a deep breath, with which she had trouble with, and began to pry the metal closet off of the wall without making any loud noises. It was a struggle, as she used all of her strength to lift the shelf, minding the shift of the freshners. She made little progress, needing to put the leg down slowly to regain her breath. With another deep breath, she began again. She had it facing diagonal. With much deliberation, Octavia tried to sneak her way through the small opening. Already she could see something existed beyond that point. It was a metal grate, one that must have been connected to the air ducts. Skkt skkt Octavia felt her body squeezed between the wall and shelf. Her eyes became just level with the grate. “Shoot.” She guessed it would be dark, and she was right. Her eyes had trouble adjusting to the darkness. She began to feel uneasy. Whatever was there, she couldn’t- Skkt skkt A tiny bird hopped into view. A robin, she would guess. Skkt skkt It’s claws scraped the metal floor of the air duct. So that was the sound. She smiled. It was funny, she couldn’t recall the last time she saw a bird. Granted it wasn’t flying, but maybe, just maybe… The bird stared directly at the earth pony, looking sideways. Octavia grinned, slowly. The bird's beak opened slightly, by a crack. A soft tweet escaped its mouth, perhaps because of the presence of another. The tweet caused Octavias back to straighten. It was unexpected. She was surprised to find out that the bolts of the vent door were out on one side, allowing her to swing the door open for the creature. Something caught Octavias eye. As the light of the room slowly went into the vent, it seemed as if something was in the back of the vent. The bird, however, jumped in front of Octavias straining eyes. He was close to the exit now, and Octavia craned her neck up as much as she could, and the bird hopped out. It looked toward the pony, almost thanking her. Thump Octavia didn’t turn right away. She was too busy having her spine sit up straight. Her sweat glands seemed to step it up in almost an instant. The closet became colder to Octy. The sound made everything stand still, everything seemed to stay in place. Thump Octavia slowly, as slow as she could, moved her neck back in front of the vent, hairs standing on her body. Her eyes gazed upon the dark metal corridor the bird was trapped in. And at the end, two grey eyes of a filly stared back. “OH SHO-” Pure instinct kicked in, as Octavia thrashed backward. Her body slammed against the metal shelf, causing it to tumble down at lightning speed. The crash could have been compared to a nuclear blast. A second later, Octavia got a view of her perpetrator. It was indeed a filly pegasus, a rather small one at that. She had a poofy mane (Octavia would guess it was a shiny blue), and a mangled coat. It looked odd seeing something like that. A mismatch of that scale. Her cutie mark was a bouquet of flowers, the colors she couldn’t be sure of The bird began to tweet in fear. It tried flying out of the curling. The vacant portals were now fixed on the bird. The tiny wings that couldn’t have been fully developed flapped furiously, and she slowly lifted off the ground toward the small bird. “No!” Octavia surged forward, grabbing her bat from the corner and slamming it against the creature's cranium. It immediately fell down to the floor, twitching. Octavia raised her bat above the things head, ready for a finishing blow. You know, I would love a little filly. The bat hung in the sky, Octavias eyes wide. With haste, Octavia creeped to the corner, grabbed her belongings, put the bat in her mouth, and pushed her back to the door. Octavia turned into the open space of the store she went to a day before hoping no greys were present in the store. She was kinda right. Greys stared against the store outside, all pressed up against the glass. They weren’t exactly staring at the grey pony, sometimes staring off somewhere else in the store. Octavia looked behind her at the janitor's closet, where the filly still was. She sighed, and ran to the back. She pushed open the fire escape door, and the alarms immediately started blaring. It led into an alley. In front of her stood a building and a convenient fire escape ladder that led to the roof. Octavia jumped up across the ladder, as she heard the store behind her being thrashed. She climbed for a minute, having to take a five second break to catch her breath. She made it onto the rooftop, and was immediately met with a problem. “What in the world am I supposed to do now?” She realized how cheesy it sounded censored, and it made her laugh. She still held that true. Her brief moment of self-appreciation was broken up as she heard the clanking of metal behind her. Added to this was the sound of dove bombing above her. She looked up to see a pair of greys circling her like vultures. Octavia began to run to the other side of the rooftop, and gazed back to see the pegasus greys on her tail. Her bat slammed against one's face, but another one grabbed her arm. She yelped in surprise as the grip tightened. The pegasus momentum caused Octavia to be lurched forward, her feet eventually left the ground. She kicked at the air, trying to somehow kick off the air. It was surprisingly futile, as the grey picked her up more and more. Octavia saw that a horde of greys struggled to climb up the ladder. She was pulled higher and higher into the air. Eventually, she was soaring above most buildings, looking down at the streets. The grey seems to try and grab Octavia up closer to its body, as if it was trying to absorb her. Octavia felt her arm slipping after each attempted pull. A jerk upwards sent her bat falling downward onto the street below. Her backpack hung loosely from her free arm, and with much deliberation, Octavia used all of her strength to swing the backpack over her head. It slammed the pegasus in its head, and the stallion's grip loosened as it screeched in pain. Octavia instantly began to drop. The air slammed across her back and produced a soundtrack to her departure. She closed her eyes as she came close to the ground. Her last thought... I wonder if anyone will know. She saw a dash of blue before all she saw was black. And she was out.
Old MemoriesOctavia pushed open the ears of the Grand Ball to enter into its entrance. It has an overhang, gold of course, and a red walkway. Octavia walked past none of these things, instead deciding to lean against the wall of the building. This was to the left of the overhang, allowing her to gaze upon the structure she entered and exited. The Ball was one of the main places in Canterlot. It was exceptionally famous, second only to the castle. Usually it offered expensive dinners that tourists would gobble up and rave about. Octavia looked back at the doors. A hall led from it to the ballroom. The sound of running hooves took Octavias gaze off the doors and into the street ahead of her. There she saw a white coated mare sprinting through the roads. Octavia shrugged, reached into the nap sack that hung over her back, and pulled out a cigarette packet. She pulled out a single cigarette, materialized a lighter from the same place, and lit it. She took one long smoke, and her tense muscles were alleviated. Octavia looked up to see the pony more clearly. She had a violently blue mane, a white coat, a record player cutie mark, and large red glasses. She was a mess. She wore clothing, which didn’t shock Octavia in the slightest. Her mane was ruffled, looking as if she literally threw a comb at it. The mare ran up the steps, and Octavia assumed that she would run right past her to the ball. However, she was shocked to see that the mare in fact did not run past her, instead stopping right in front of her, panting so hard it would seem she would take all the oxygen out of the sky. Octavia leaned forward off the wall, and raised an eyebrow as the mare seemed to try and speak. “Oh, oh, alright, um -whoo boy- um hi-shit-there should be a reservation under...hold on.” She took in another inhale. “Um, something under Vinyl Scratch.” Octavia tilted her head. “Ma’am, are you sure you're in the right place?” Her eyes stared at large beads of sweat that began to run down the pony’s back. She nodded her head. “Yeah, The Grand Ball’s Fine Dining, right?” “Well, yes.” “Ok, perfect! Then um, I should be written down there. Vinyl Scratch.” She smiled. Her teeth looked as though they were brushed 20 times in the last ten minutes, and that was more than double the times in the past month. Octavia cocked an eyebrow again. “Ma’am-” “Call me Vinyl.” “Ma’am-” “Oh, ok.” Octavias teeth gritted. “Ma’am, I’m not the receptionist.” She wiggled her cigarette, indicating that she was just enjoying her smoke break. Vinyls' eyes glanced at tht roll of tobacco, and then looked back up at Octavia. “Oooh, smoking is bad for you.” Octavia rolled her eyes. “So I’ve been told.” Vinyl looked closer at this strange pony. She was dressed exquisitely. She was proud of that word. She wore a suit, black tuxedo, white undershirt, that ran along her back, giving her a fancy look. She wore a campy pink bow tie as well, that threw Vinyl off. “Ya know, it can cause cancer.” “I’m very careful.” “I mean, you can die.” “Yes. I know.” “Well, then its kinda dumb.” “Well ma’am, I’m sorry my habits disturb you, but there’s not much to do at this point.” Vinyl tilted her head, her spikey blue mane sweeping to the other side. “Why do you talk funny?” “What do you mean?” Her royal accent came through in that sentence, as if on que. “Wow, that accent is, like, intoxicating.” For what seemed like the hundredth time, Octavia rolled her eyes. “I appreciate it.” Vinyl poked a hoof at Octavia. “Are you Royal?” Ahh what the hell. Octavia shrugged. “Yeah, my mom and dad play in the royal choir.” Vinyl's eyes showed her being genuinely impressed, which surprised the gray pony. She didn’t seem like one who would be impressed by something like that. Most ponies weren’t. Even the musical gurus she knew from party’s she would go to. Everyone always nodded, commenting how much of a respectable job that was, good paying. It was af if the other royals were not impressed due to them having it better. She supposed they did. They always did. Her family plays violins for a living, and yet they have a multi million gold business. They always had real relations with the Princess, they always had servants and money and ideas and money and friends and dates and money and- “Hey. Rip Van Twinkle. What happened, you fell into the Moonlight Zone?” Octavia shook her head awake. “No, sorry, just thinking. That’s all.” Vinyl smiled. “So how did you get this receptionist gig?” “...I didn't.” Vinyl's smile faded away. “Oh, right, shoot.” Then, in a sudden instant, her eyes exploded with realization. “OH SHIT, I’M LATE!” She galloped quickly away, sprinting inside the ball. Octavia simply glared, smirking. She had trouble defining what just happened. It was perhaps because she did not know the nature of what occurred. She shrugged. Didn’t matter to her. She had a new warmth inside of her, one she had difficulty expressing. It felt like a warm fireplace, gently nipping heat at her body. Its ashes would be small, weak. It would never grow into a raging embler, but it wouldn’t die like a diminished flame. It just burned brightly, content with how it was at that moment. She took another puff of her cigarette. She made to throw it on the floor, stopping halfway. Instead, she found a trash can on the other side of the wall. She shook the flame out, and flicked the butt in. She stared for a moment, and then turned around, hearing the door fling open. A second later, she saw Vinyl walking out, her eyes wide, stressfully pulling her mane back. She was halfway past the walkway when Octavia called out to her. “Hey! Everything is alright?” She whipped around, and her blue electric mane jiggled in place. “Oh uh yeah!” She said out of breath. “My uh, date just apparently left, like i just missed her. I’m trying to see if I can see her.” Octavia raised an eyebrow. “If she just left, wouldn’t you have seen her when you were talking with me?” Vinyl's face became puzzled. “So that means-“ “-she’s been gone.” Octavia finished. Vinyls laughed, one that was overwhelmingly sad. She put her hoof over her face, trying to hide her smile. “Damn it, I did it again.” Octavia smiled, trying to help. “You can just contact her later, no?” Vinyl waved a hoof in dismissal. “Nah, no point. Ya know, it was a random date, picked it up. I dunno, ain’t no point in contacting her back.” “Well, you should most likely go in and cancel your reservation.” “Yeah…” She looked at the ground for a while. Octavias eyes were fixated upon her. Eventually, after flashing a brief smile, she made her way back into the hotel. Octavia stared at the door as Viny’s figure went through. A deep breath. She didn’t know what to think. She made her way toward the street. She had to go home. But at the moment, she wasn’t sure where that was. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Elbows up. You're not a slouch, stop acting like it.” “Yes mother.” “And you keep missing a note.” “Which one mother?” “I don’t know, somewhere in the middle.” The living room was huge. Velvet carpets, brown walls, beautiful art. Octavia felt the heat behind her. Sweat dripped down her back. It was in the afternoon, it made little sense for the fireplace to be lit. Yet it was. It always was. In front of her sat mother, a scowl on her face. Disappointed. Her light brown fur wrinkled. She sat on the velvet couch judging. Octavia looked past her mother at the dining room that was open to her. A large table. It was convenient to eat and then make your way into the living room. It- “Hey, Octavia, what are you staring at?” Octavia hugged the cello closer to her body. “I don’t kn-” “Stand up straight, and for pete sake, bend your elbows!” Octavia nodded, and adjusted herself. With one hoof, she straightened the bow tie around her neck. She then bent down, and picked up the dropped bow. “Better.” Her mother raised a hoof, and Octavia slightly flinched, despite the distance between the two. The mother didn’t notice. “Haydric Chopin, Nocturne No. 2.” Octavia nodded, and began to play. 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4. Keep the tempo o=up. She felt her hooves graze the delicate strings, her bow moved gracefully. The sound was beautiful. Pure. Her hood moved again, her head bobbing with the music. Up, down, up, down. Perfect timing. Take a deep breath. She moved the bow at perfect speed, neither going too fast or slow. She began to tap her foot, closing her eyes. This one was perfect. It was phenomenal. She could feel it. Mother must be smiling, must be in awe. Perhaps not smiling, her jaw agape. Her dad would come home soon, and hear about the marvel of her daughter. Eleven years old, plays beautifully. Maybe, just maybe, she can no longer be homeschooled. Maybe she could even play outside. Maybe they would listen. Maybe they would smile, hug her for a moment, and say we love you. And hug her and love her and say that- “BEND THOSE ELBOWS!” The music stopped short. Octavias eyes flared open, and before she knew what was happening, she opened her mouth. “WHY DOES IT MATTER?” A look of shock entered her mothers face for only a second. She got up swiftly, striding over to her daughter. With one motion, her hoof came down upon Octavias face. The eyes that once held anger now only held tears. It stung, and as Octavia looked back up to her mother, she looked defeated. That quickly. “Young lady, I don’t know who you think you are speaking to me in such a tone. Your father should hear about this.” “No…” “No?” Her mother’s eyes looked amused. “Maybe you should have thought differently before you spoke to me in such ways. A mare always thinks, and is always mature. That, Octavia, was just the opposite. We never raised you this way.” Octavia looked at the ground, tears falling down her face. “But mother, I’m a filly.” Her mother scoffed, and grabbed at Octavias chin. She forced her to look into her eyes. “A filly? And that’s what you want to be? You wish to be ignorant, to be stupid, to be childish? You want to ruin everything because you are a filly? Nopony respects fillies dear. They are nothing. They are worthless equines who cannot think for themselves. You are different because we made you different. Do you want to do something in your life?” Octavia said nothing. “Hmm? Do you?” Forced, Octavia nodded her head. The mothers hoof left her chin. She smiled. “Perhaps your father does not need to hear about this. As long as you play exceptionally well this time.” Octavia nodded yes. Her mother trotted back to the couch, sitting down. She pointed toward her daughter, who’s tears continually streamed down her face. She showed disgust. “Please, wip your tears away. Nobody wants to see a mare cry like that.” Octavia did so. Her mother waited a moment. Octavia stared back up at her matriarch. She tried desperately to find an ounce of love in her cold dark stare. It couldn’t have been this bad, was it? It wasn’t like this at all, it was better. Sure it was hard, but never like this! They loved her, she knew that. They were always there for her, at every meal. Every meal cooked by a chef. And they stood by her education. As in staring at the room in which her and her tutor were. They cared, right? It was more than just her name. Melody. She was more than that. They cared. “From the top.” Little Octavia nodded, and began again. It still stung. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Thank you for keeping my cello here Clarence. It really helped me out.” A yellow unicorn nodded his head. He had on a tuxedo. A small black bow tie. “Of course Octy. Thanks for agreeing to do the morning service here too!’ She nodded. He smiled, his teeth whiter than they should have been, and then he made his way behind her, past the stage into the kitchen. She looked out from the stage. Rich ponies were eating eggs benedict on a Manehattan Muffin. Chowing down. Barley listening to her. It was usually the same at these gigs. She was the background for the ponies stories. A soundtrack. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She looked out into the crowd, and saw a past-vacant seat now filled. A white unicorn with an electric blue man sat with a bunch of other ponies. They laughed and talked as if she wasn’t there, perhaps because she wasn’t. But it didn’t matter. She seemed to say, play whatever you want! Surprise me! Take a chance! She didn’t know why it was her, but Octy smiled. Her own song. She could do that. She smiled, picked up her bow, and glanced at the sheet of music in front of her. Whatever she wanted… Octavia began to play Nocturne No. 2
