Grey and White and Red all Over
“You whore!” Octavia’s shrill voice could be heard all throughout Ponyville, her Trottingham accent apparent even in her anger. “Goddesses, how many does that make this week?”
“Hey, back off,” Vinyl’s voice cried out, matching her roommate’s volume and intensity. “At least I can get some, unlike your prude ass.” The DJ pony’s eyes began to shift from their regular shade of magenta to a more glaring shade of red, a sign of extreme emotion - anger, in this case.
A lone figure sat on the living room sofa, its unusual shape an oddity in this world of multi-colored ponies. The human, Red, as he called himself, shifted uncomfortably as the two mares woke up half the neighborhood. “Um, can I just-”
“No!” Octavia spat, not even letting the man finish his sentence. “You are a sick pervert and you will sit there until I’m done with Vinyl, do you hear me?” Her own violet glare never left Scratch’s, matching its intensity.
“Hey, that’s my human hubby you’re talking to.” She moved closer to Octavia, her horn glowing blue with stored up magic. “Do not talk to him like that.”
A sigh escaped from Octavia’s lips, her roommate’s ignorance getting to her. “Vinyl. For the last time humans don’t exist. This is obviously somepony disguised by magic or in a furless suit.” Red began to open his mouth, but decided it was best to keep it shut. “He’s a pervert!”
“Like hell he is!” The unicorn smirked and trotted over to “her” human. “He’s a real human, he’s all mine, and you’re just jelly!” She jumped up on the couch and rested her head on the human’s lap.
“Me? Jelly- er, jealous? Why would I be?”
Vinyl smiled and closed her eyes, her horn still glowing. A magical aura, the same color as the light from her horn covered Red’s hand as she began to move it across her mane. “Because I’ve got someone who likes me and wants to be with me.” Her magic ceased as Red began petting her of his own accord, glad to have control over something. “Because there is a creature who makes me feel good and who knows how to have a good time without being liquored up.”
Octavia’s face contorted in anger as Vinyl spoke. “Why, you . . .”
“Face it Tavi, no one wants you: you’re too much of a prude.” She rolled over, exposing her belly to Red who began instinctively rubbing it. “Oh, that’s nice...”
The normally grey Octavia turned a bright shade of red. Acting in such a manner, right on the couch! “You . . . you . . .” She was at a loss for words. Scratch had always been better when it came to the insults, and Octavia was getting too furious to think. “You . . . you . . .”
Scratch started giggling as Red started tickling her stomach. Was this some kind of human foreplay?
“You... cunt!” Something about seeing those fingers move about her roommate’s belly made something snap in her. “You loose, disgusting cunt!” A bit of steam actually began to rise from her head as her anger level reached its peak. Red looked over in shock as those words escaped her mouth; he had never heard a woman with her class use words like that. “Hey, human, do you use protection? You should, because you never know what this hussy may have caught!”
For a second Red stopped rubbing, and only started when Vinyl began pulling his hand with her magic. “Um, Scratch...” he nervously began, Octavia’s words worrying him slightly.
“Don’t worry, she’s talking out of her ass,” Vinyl said, her expression never changing as she forced her human to give her the rub she needed to get going. “I caught a small amount of herpes, like, once.” The nervous look on Red’s face didn’t change. “Relax man, it was a unicorn-only strain. You couldn't get it if you tried, and it’s all cleared up.”
Red continued, albeit with some reluctance. Taking his other hand, he began rubbing Scratch’s leg, causing Octavia to blush a bit. “Fine, obviously you’re going to go on with this sick display,” she said, her anger slightly leveling off. “But can you please not do this on the couch? I like to sit there from time to time and I’d prefer NOT having to set it on fire.”
Scratch merely shook her head as she enjoyed the rubbing Red was giving her. “I don’t think either of us are going to move . . .”
“Hey, Scratch, I have an idea,” Red said, finally getting a word in edgewise. “Why don’t we invite your roommate to join us?” His rubbing began to intensify as he his hand began to move closer to her crotch.
“Not on the couch, perverts!” Octavia snapped, “And no! I’m not joining you!”
“Goddesses, Tavi, why don’t you take that broom out of your rear for once and have some fun?” Vinyl said as she hopped off Red’s lap and trotted to the fridge, a little calmer now.
“Vinyl, your idea of fun is taking too many drugs for your system to handle and staggering home with some random stallion you met at a rave!”
Vinyl felt insulted - three stomach pumps and she was branded for life! “Oh, what? I don’t even take any drugs that often!” she countered, glaring in disgust.
“Are you so quick to forget the ecstasy months?”
“Oh, you know that was a phase! I quit after a while!”
“Right, and you quit being a raving hussy every other night too,” Octavia snickered.
Vinyl walked back from the fridge, holding a bottle of vodka. It was going to be a long night. “Well, you claim you’re still a virgin, and I know that’s a lie!”
“I am! You just claim that I’m not to explain what happened in college!”
“Uhh, what happened in college?” Red inquired.
Octavia looked away, cheeks a shade shy of crimson while Vinyl broke into a smug grin. Red looked between the two, working to figure out the situation. With sudden clarity, it dawned on him.
“Wait,” he said, “you don’t mean that you two . . .”
“We totally did,” bragged Vinyl, leaning towards Red’s scratching hand. “Oh yeah, right there . . .”
“Vinyl doesn't know what she’s talking about,” said Octavia. “That’s all there is to it.”
“An’ Tavi’s wound tighter than a shipyard rope,” the white mare muttered sulkily.
“Excuse me?” Octavia asked, eyes narrowing.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ that what we did was a bit more than misunderstanding, is all.”
“Vinyl, we are not going to talk about it and that is final. Your . . . companion may remain temporarily if he absolutely must, but at no point - no point! - will you tell him or discuss the matter with him. Do you understand me?”
Vinyl sighed, the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Sure, whatever. I’m not in the mood to tell it anyway.”
“I’m going to fix myself a drink and then go to bed,” said Octavia, moving towards the kitchen. “You and ‘Red,’ if that is his real name, can spend the night however you want, but by the Goddess, you will clean up after yourselves if you make a mess.”
“Fine by me,” replied Vinyl, using a hoof to push Red’s hand between her hind legs with a complete lack of subtlety. Red, for his part, tried to remain calm despite Octavia’s clear annoyance and Vinyl’s clear exuberance.
“Um,” he managed, “not to screw things up, but does this mean I can stay, then?”
Octavia sighed deeply. “I am far too tired to deal with this fresh breed of Vinyl’s stupidity, so yes, you can stay for now.” Before either the DJ or her newfound friend could relax, Octavia turned towards them aggressively. “But if I hear a single noise tonight, there will be a reckoning, mark my words.”
The next morning was among one of the brightest of the month. Peering through the blinds of Vinyl’s window, the sunlight eventually grew bright enough to wake the dozy mare.
“Celestia’s really outdoing herself,” she grumbled, looking at the clock. It was 10:30 AM, slightly earlier than when she would usually fall out of bed. This being a rare opportunity, the DJ decide to make something of her day. Vinyl was careful not to wake the sleeping human beside her and lazily put on her glasses before limping downstairs.
Even before reaching the kitchen, the sweet sounds of humming could be heard from it as Octavia stood at the stove. “Morning, Tavi,” Vinyl slurred before letting a yawn escape. “What’s for breakfast?”
Octavia turned for a moment to her roommate. Unlike Vinyl, who had just crawled out of bed and looked the part, the cellist had obviously been up for a while. Her hair had been brushed into its usual style, and her bow tie and collar had been put together perfectly.
“Vinyl, you’re up early,” she said dryly. “Are you expecting me make you breakfast for the 468th time? You may be an idiot, but even I know you made it far enough in school to attend seventh grade cooking class.”
“Last time I tried to make an egg, it hatched . . .” Vinyl said in a small voice as she sat at the table.
Octavia sighed. “That’s because you stole that egg from a dragon, thinking it would, and I quote, get you higher than a kite on the moon,” the grey mare managed to reply as she bit down on her spatula.
“Hey, they don’t say to chase the purple dragon for nothing!” Vinyl couldn’t help but laugh. Octavia merely rolled her eyes.
“Speaking of purple dragons, don’t you get your drugs from Spike?” Octavia questioned, spatula still in mouth. It wasn’t often that the two of them were up this early and sober. Any bit of conversation was welcome.
Groaning, it was Vinyl’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sweet Celestia, I hang out with him every now and then and you imply I pay him 50 bits a month for a fix.”
Now Octavia was chuckling. “It was a simple yes or no question. I didn’t ask about the money or frequency.”
“Yeah, but . . . Aw, forget it.” Vinyl walked over to the couch and sat down, turned on the TV, and let her mind at ease. An awkward silence filled the house as Red then appeared at the top of the stairway. His grey hoodie and pajama pants hung from his body, two of the few pieces of clothing he managed to bring with him to Equestria.
“Mornin’, Scratch,” he yawned as he descended the stairs, careful to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of a building built for creatures smaller than him. “We gonna do anything today?”
“Besides each other?” said Octavia.
Vinyl gave her a sinister glare that could be seen from behind her violet shades before looking back at Red. “I don’t know. Maybe we could go to a record shop and browse a bit?” It was a personal hobby of hers, and she hoped Red would enjoy it as well.
“Vinyl, is that really wise?” Octavia managed to ask as she flipped a few pancakes. “I mean, taking a guy who likes to pretend to be a human out on the town?”
“Oh come on, Tavi, My Little Human has gotten popular. If anything, ponies will probably worship me,” Vinyl stated. Octavia just shook her head and looked the other way, ashamed of what had become of her roommate.
“I don’t know, Vinyl,” Red said as he entered the kitchen. “She may have a- how are you talking with that in your mouth?”
Before Octavia could respond, Vinyl’s voice lilted in from the living room. “She’s had practice!”
“Vinyl, you shut up n-”
“On Big Mac!”
“Vinyl I mean it, shut your-”
“Outside the bar after a show!”
“DAMN IT, VINYL!” Barely twenty minutes after both ponies had been up, the morning’s peace had been shattered - a new record. Octavia dropped the spatula on the floor, her normally grey face practically red with anger. “You know what? Make your own damn breakfast today, you . . . you ignoramus!” she said, storming off towards the basement. Exiting the first floor, she slammed the door as hard as she possibly could, sick of her roommate already.
A few moments of silence later, Red spoke up again. “No, seriously, how does she do that?”
___________________________________
“So, do you two fight often?” Red asked as he searched through the used record bins, looking for something similar to the music from his world. “Or do I just drive you apart?”
Vinyl was silent as she flipped through the adjacent bin with her magic. Most of the records here weren’t anything new to her; she was the reason they were in the used bin. Right now, though, they were just a distraction she needed. “No, we’ve always gotten into arguments. I mean, take a look at us - A DJ and a cellist, come on. We always fight, but everything’s cool ten minutes later. It was just what we did, y’know? And it never seemed to make a huge difference to either of us. But recently . . .” She sighed a bit.
“It’s been bothering you?”
Vinyl looked down as the glow from her horn ceased. “Yeah . . .”
“I could tell,” Red said, moving onto Vinyl’s bin. “You went through these at least a dozen times. Find anything you think I’d like?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Ever hear of Daft Pone?” Red shook his head, though the name sounded weirdly familiar. “You’ll like ‘em. They’re one of my personal favorites.” Her horn lit up blue again as she lifted one of the records.
“Equine After All,” Red muttered as the sleeve was lowered into his hand. “Guess they are like Daft Punk.” Vinyl gave him a confused look. “Music from my world.”
“Oh yeah. I think they mentioned them on an episode of MLH.”
“Possibly,” he replied, sifting through the albums to see if there was a ponified version of Discovery. “So, what do you think the issue with you and Octavia is? I don’t really see why you two live together, if you’re constantly fighting.” He picked up a record from the bin for a closer look. “Ooh, nice artwork on this one.”
Vinyl shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t either,” she confessed. There was a faraway look of disappointment and sorrow on her face, visible even through her shades. “I’ve known Tavi for a long time. Hell, we’ve been living together since our first year of college. It’s been like six years like that, and I just don’t know what happened.”
Red stopped flipping through the records, the distress in Vinyl’s voice obvious even to the deaf. “You have to have some idea as to when it started.” He looked around, making sure there were no other ponies to hear this personal conversation, before crouching down so that he was roughly even with Vinyl.
Vinyl was quiet for a minute, debating whether or not to drop the subject or go on. It was deeply private - how could she just tell anyone?
Then again, look where that had gotten her. Someone needed to hear it.
“I guess it started to go downhill in our third year. We’d both turned the legal drinking age, so we could go to a lot more parties and stuff, and we went to that party I hinted about. I’d drag her to a lot of ‘em, where I would usually end up so blasted you’d barely recognize me.” The memories played in her head, both comforting and upsetting her. “I . . . I don’t know what I ever did to hurt her . . .” Despite trying to hold it in, she couldn’t help but tear up a bit.
Red wrapped one of his arms around her, his hand stroking her mane as Vinyl laid her head on his chest. “Even though we’re always fighting, Tavi is still my best friend. I just hate that she’s going through this. . .”
The two of them stood there for several minutes, Vinyl enjoying the feeling of Red’s human arms around her, and Red quite comfortable with Vinyl’s warmth against his body. It was only after the sharp ringing of the bell on the door reached them that the two separated, neither wanting to be seen sharing a moment in the middle of a record store. The two of them quickly went back to the bins, both silent as they continued to browse.
“Hey, Scratch,” Red said, breaking the all too awkward silence, “I haven’t really had a chance to see much of this town, and well. . .” He had no need to finish his sentence as the next sound to come from his body was the obvious growl of his empty stomach.
Vinyl couldn't help but burst out laughing, the gloom from a few minutes ago seemingly gone. With Octavia’s anger erupting earlier in the day, neither of them had much of a chance for breakfast and it was just now hitting Red. “Man, that was loud,” Scratch laughed. “Come on, let’s pay for these and get out of here. I know a place where we can grab some chow.”
_______________________________________________________________
Octavia stood alone in the basement, her favorite cello at her side. Whenever Vinyl would get under her skin she would head to their basement and play her anger away - channeling negativity into art, frustration into beauty. With the money they made, the two musical ponies had been able to assemble a small but professional studio down there, well-suited for both of their careers.
The low humming of the massive instrument’s strings flew between the soundproof room’s walls as she continued to perfect her technique. Lacking the magic of a unicorn was a handicap that all earth pony musicians had to deal with, and Octavia was no exception. Though she had eventually gotten the hang of holding her bow, from time to time she lamented her inability to use magic that would undoubtedly make her life easier.
As had happened countless times in the past, time had become of no concern as she performed. Several of the pieces she routinely played could run on for more than an hour, including a few works she had written herself.
Playing, Octavia closed her eyes and imagined herself on stage as she usually did. No matter the piece, her fantasy remained the same; a crowd of Canterlot’s elite watching her perform, their attention focused squarely on her. Every mouth was shut and every ear was upright as she played her cello, its melodies captivating her audience. A single tear fell from her shut eye as her vision became clearer to her. Having had this same fantasy many times before, Octavia knew exactly what to expect as she neared the end.
With the final notes struck, a deep silence filled the stadium as the cello went silent. For several seconds, nopony made a sound. Then, one pair of hooves would begin to clap. Then another, and another. Before long, the whole audience would be applauding as she stood there, silent. Roses and bouquets flew onto her imaginary stage, and Octavia couldn’t help but smile.
The grey mare wanted to remain like this for hours, basking in the cheers she so desired, even if they weren’t real. As she was about to perform her encour, however, a loud electronic buzzing filled the soundproof room; it was the only signal to alert whoever was in there that somepony wanted them. Exiting the room, There was a voice outside yelling down, that much she could tell, though the thick door made it quite difficult to hear.
Octavia sighed angrily as she climbed to the top of the stairs. Vinyl knew better than to disturb her while she was working, and wouldn’t have bothered to ring anyway. Right now, there was only one creature who would know that she was down there. Opening the door, there stood the only human in Equestria, Red.
“Mr. Red,” Octavia said dryly. “What do you want? Where’s Vinyl?”
“Oh, um,” he started, slightly taken aback by her tone, “she said that she needed to take care of a few things about a show she’s putting on this weekend, so I decided to head here.” Octavia rolled her eyes; typical of Vinyl to leave him to his own devices and wander home. “I kind of have nothing else to do, and was wondering if I could chill down there with you.”
She gave him a black look before turning around. “As much as I don’t want to, it’s better than having you up here breaking things.”
“Hey, I don’t-”
“I don’t care. Just don’t touch anything,” she answered before trotting back downstairs. “And be sure to close the door on your way down.”
Red smiled, aware that she couldn’t see the relief on his face for not shutting him out. “Thanks, Tavi,” he said as he closed the door and descended the stairs.
“Only Vinyl calls me that,” Octavia responded, “I’d prefer that you don’t. Watch your head.”
“Um, wh- Ow!” he yelled, smacking his head on the low overhang.
“Warned you.”
Red sighed and rubbed the growing lump on his head as he followed Octavia. “Yeah, you did.” Walking down the staircase, he found himself in a small hall with three doors leading off of it. The first lead to a room with a washing machine and dryer, which seemed ordinary enough, though the only article of clothing he had seen on either of them was a bow-tie. The second was only open slightly, and all Red could see of the interior was a writing desk covered in sheets of scribbled-upon paper.
Octavia herself was walking through the third doorway, which seemed more solid than the other two. Upon following her through, Red realized that the room was soundproofed.
“What was that other room?” Red asked absently, looking over the array of computer equipment and instruments.
“My study,” said Octavia. “I compose in there, among other things. Like enjoy some peace and quiet, for instance,” she added before Red could ask. Red grinned sheepishly and merely pulled over an unoccupied chair as Octavia returned to her cello’s side.
Octavia did her best to ignore the human sitting beside her as she began to play once again, this time switching to a more sad, mellow tune. Despite having never possessed much of an interest in classical music, Red couldn’t help but be silent with awe at what he was both seeing and hearing.
For twenty minutes, Red just watched and listened. As Octavia reached her final note and faded out, Red realized that he hadn’t moved for the entirety of her performance. Octavia made to continue playing, but before Red knew what he was doing, he started clapping enthusiastically. The sound, awkward from its pins-and-needles hands, echoed around the insulated studio.
“Um, Mr. Red,” said Octavia.
“Mmm?” Red asked.
“You can stop clapping now.”
Red looked down and realized that his hands had been slapping together like a dimwitted seal for the better part of a minute. Clearing his throat, he hurriedly put them at his sides.
A pause. Then:
“Why did you clap?” Octavia asked. She relaxed in her seat and lowered her bow and cello, looking at Red evenly.
Red scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“It, uh,” he mumbled, “just seemed appropriate, y’know? I mean, when you’re out at the orchestra or something, you clap after they’re done playing.”
Octavia narrowed her eyes at the huma- “human” across from her before realizing she was being silly. “Well, thank you,” she said. “It’s nice to know that one’s art is not entirely without recognition.”
Red tilted his head in confusion. “Without . . . but Vinyl was telling me about you-”
The earth pony sighed inwardly. "Was she now."
“-and she said how you’d played for all these bigwigs and everything. I thought plenty of people-” he paused. “Er, ponies, that is recognized your music.”
Octavia chuckled, half warm and half bitter. “It’s true that I am hardly lacking in the way of prestige, but the public eye is another beast entirely.” Her eyes cast downward, her tone muting. “I make enough to live with a reasonable degree of comfort, but it’s not the kind of money that Vinyl makes. She practically gets salary.”
Red couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He pointed indelicately at Octavia and her cello. “You mean to tell me that . . . that . . . that doesn’t sell? That ponies don’t appreciate that?”
Octavia shrugged. “Not if the music charts are any barometer. Most ponies seem to prefer . . . that electronic noise that most DJs churn out.”
“That reminds me,” said Red. “I wanted to ask you something.” The earth pony looked at him curiously, absently running the tip of a hoof along a single cello string. “How are you and Vinyl housemates? I mean, you fight so much, and if you hate her music, then . . .”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Red knew he could not have said anything worse if he had tried. Octavia’s eyes went from a calm, friendly warmth to soulless slabs of purple almost faster than Red could recognize, and her body tensed up, all previous slack and comfortability vanished.
Red scrambled to mend what he had done. “T-that is, I-”
“Mr. Red, I will thank you not to make assumptions as to how Vinyl and I function together.”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“Furthermore, while I detest much of the so-called ‘music’ of Vinyl’s peers, if you will recall, the operative word in my remark on the matter was ‘most.’ Vinyl is a talented individual, even if I happen to disagree with the stylistic decisions she makes in expressing herself.”
Red look away as much as he could, cheeks burning with shame. Octavia waited for him to respond, and, seeing that he did not, promptly turned ninety degrees on her seat and started playing again. The harsh staccatos and syncopations washed over Red’s ears like dirty water, and he quickly excused himself from the studio.
