//-------------------------------------------------------// Treble & Bass -by Jet Howitzer- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter I: Shattered Memories //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter I: Shattered Memories You trot down the street, the bunch of flowers clutched firmly within your magical field.  It’d been some time since you last surprised her with some flowers, so you had decided that it was about time for another bouquet.  The roses were of a wide assortment of color, since your marefriend had long since told you that monochrome bouquets were far too boring.  You agreed, although you couldn’t help but dislike the flowers just a bit.  Roses were too damn clichéd.  But, what the mare wants, the mare gets. As you rounded the corner that would bring you onto the road where your marefriend lived, a slight snapping noise drew your attention upwards.  Of all the thoughts that flew through your mind in that instance, about half were too vulgar to ever utter out loud.  The other half wasn’t much better, but at least you could say it without being banished to the moon for saying it.  Instead of all that, though, a single word escaped your lips.  “Fuck.” The piano that was quickly plummeting towards you was nicely finished, several intricate patterns engraved on the legs, and the walls of it were no less intricate.  Just as your magic began slowing the piano, you noted, with no small measure of irony, that the piano had a name engraved over the keys.  That name?  Soft Beat.  How nice. Crunch A soft light forces itself through your eyelids.  Despite the diffused nature of the light, it hurt your eyes to look at it.  Nothing was in focus, and you felt a throbbing ache run the length and breadth of your body.  Muddled thoughts crawled through your mind, making themselves known only by the intermittent throbs of agony they caused within your mind. Vague voices reached your tortured body, and the sounds seemed eerily familiar, yet distant at the same time.  You felt like you knew them, but as you tried to associate them with memories, you found that nothing seemed to be there.  You knew that there should be something there, but each probe of your mind revealed nothing but a vast emptiness.  Your breathing increased in pace as your search grew more desperate.  Behind the voices was a faint beeping that slowly increased in pace. The voices quickly grew in volume, but that didn’t matter.  You had nothing.  Tiny scraps of what was once a fulfilling life flashed past you as you searched for something of meaning.  Yet, despite your search, there was nothing to find.  As you gave up, you heard a cry of distress, and then nothing.  A slight pressure on your side brought your awareness back to the real world, and the trials and tribulations that waited within. With your focus wandering aimlessly it quickly became apparent that you were reclined, since the ceiling was the first thing that came into view.  A more intense light than before was shining on your face, and as you raised a hoof to block the view you were slightly surprised to feel something clutching it, refusing to let you move your hoof.  As the light faded in intensity, you let your gaze move away from that, and down towards your body. A slight gasp escaped your lips as you saw the gratuitous amount of gauze and bandages wrapped around your torso.  But, oddly enough, more surprising than that, were the two mares at your bedside, each one on a side, and both with looks of deep concern written on their face. The mare on your right was a pure white color, her mane a mix of shades of blue.  Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and, somehow, she seemed off to you.  Like there was something missing that was nearly always there.  As you focused on her, she allowed a small smile to flicker across her lips, before it was quickly replaced by the same look of concern that was there moments ago.  The mare to your left was mirroring the white mare in position, but not in looks.  Her coat was a light shade of grey, and her mane a darker shade of the same color.  Her eyes were a wonderful shade of pink, and they held a level of concern that could easily rival that of the other mare. As your gaze passed the mare on the left it came to rest on the stallion that was behind the grey mare.  He had a look of serious concern on his face, and as he noticed that you were looking at him he allowed a small smile to flash across his lips. “Ah, you’re awake.  You gave us a bit of a fright there for a moment.  You nearly slipped into cardiac arrest.  But, now you seem to have leveled out.”  You looked at him blankly, and so he opted to explain.  “Yes.   Well, you might not remember, but you were nearly crushed by a falling piano.  A cable, or some such, snapped, allowing the piano to plummet about fifteen feet before it hit the ground.  Were it not for your quick action it would’ve landed directly on top of you.  Instead, you managed to shunt it to the side a few feet, causing it to simply… Well…  It smashed the ground next to you, showering you with a fairly disheartening level of shrapnel.” The doctor approached you, before he motioned at a particularly large wad of bandages.  “Right here one of the legs of the piano passed nearly all the way through your body.  It missed your vital organs by scant inches.”  As he continued his explanation of what happened you just tuned it all out, not interested in just how close you came to dying.  You, frankly, had other problems.  Like, for instance, the lack of memories.  Was living without memories better than dying?  It was like you were a new person, except that everypony else still knew who you were, and what you did. “So, unless you have any questions I’ll be starting your discharge paperwork.  Our best unicorn surgeons have assured me that there won’t be any problems with your body, and so we have no reason to keep you.” “Why can’t I remember anything?”  The doctor looked quite serious for a moment as he processed your question.  He took a few steps closer to the foot of the bed before he answered. “Well, it’s quite possible that you suffered a serious blow to the head during the ordeal, and so your mind suffered enough trauma to have blanked out.  It’s likely that the memories are still there, simply separated from the rest of your mind until the correct connections are formed.  And, on that note, I think these two mares will be of assistance.  They both claim to know you, so I think that they should be able to help you out.”  As the doctor finishes, he gives you a warm smile.  “Welcome back to the land of the living, Crescendo.  We nearly lost you for a while there.” As the doctor walks out of the room, you let out a small sigh, dearly wishing that you could have at least remembered your name prior to the doctor saying it.  You try to pull yourself into a more upright position, but a spike of pain runs along your spine, and you groan.  A gentle prod on your right hoof reveals the white mare holding out a small pill, and a glass of water. “The doctors left this here earlier.  They said that it should help with the pain.”  You take the pill and the water, making short work of the small capsule.  “You gave us a bit of a fright, Crest.  Well, you gave Tavi a fright.  I was confident that you’d be fine.” “Vinyl I thought I asked you not to call me that.  And we both know that Crescendo never cared for that nickname you gave him.”  The grey mare on your left looked down at you, and she gave you a smile.  “Don’t mind her, Crescendo.  She’s always acted like this.  She and I were both just as frightened when we found out what had happened to you.”  In the small pause that follows her words you ready yourself to ask quite an important question.  Before you can, though, the white mare, Vinyl, you assume, jumps in. “Yeah, and there was this other mare that came by yesterday.  She said something about a family vacation, and that she wouldn’t be back for a few days.  She spent nearly an hour trying to make sure we understood just how sorry she was.  So, in summary, that floozy of yours is sorry.” “Vinyl!  Don’t call Crescendo’s marefriend a floozy!  That’s…”  The grey mare looks quite flustered, and she falls silent, glaring at the white mare.  This time, you take advantage of the silence. “Who are you two?  And who’s my marefriend?”  Both mares look at you, and then at each other.  After a moment the mare on your right nods at the one on your left. “I’m Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ Pon3.  We went to high school together back in the day.  Now we’re just distant friends.  You came to some of my shows at the various nightclubs that I perform at.”  She looks at Octavia for just a moment before she continues.  “She and I both knew you back in school.” The mare on the right takes over here without missing a beat.  “Yes, it’s true.  I am Octavia.  We did, in fact, spend quite a bit of time together back then.  Much like with Vinyl, you came to many of my shows, oftentimes being one of the only ponies to stay for all the encores we are asked to give.  It always surprised me just how interested you were in my music, considering that you never really showed a huge interest in the classical pieces.” You just sat for a moment, trying to digest all the information that had been given to you.  Sadly, there was no sudden influx of memories, so you just looked between the two mares as they looked at you, and between each other.  You tried again to bring yourself into an upright position, and without the spike of pain you managed to succeed.  Now that you had a better vantage point, you could see both mares clearly. Octavia had a grey coat, with a nicely styled dark grey mane.  She had a small pink bow-tie around her neck that seemed like it was slightly askew.  Her eyes were a shade of pink a bit darker than her bow-tie, but no less striking given her monochrome color scheme.  A familiar tug pulled at your gut, but nothing further than that came.  The mare to your right, though, was far different than Octavia. Vinyl had a white coat, with a two tone mane.  It was spiky and, were it not for the fact that you could see some traces of gel, you’d assume it was unkempt.  Her eyes were probably one of the most, forgive the pun, eye catching feature on her face.  They were a striking shade of magenta.  Both of them had eyes that drew attention towards their faces.  As the silence lingered you glanced towards the door as a nurse came in with a wheelchair before her. Thankful for something to do, even if it was just getting into a chair, you, with help from the two mares and the nurse, made short work of the trip into the chair.  The trip from your room to the main desk was fairly brief, and soon after you arrived you were given several forms to fill out.  As you began signing your name more times than you could count you lost track of time.  When all was said and done you were back on your hooves, walking behind the two mares as you balanced a bottle of pills atop your head. The two mares were arguing about something or another having to do with music, but you were too busy thinking about what the future would hold to bother with their argument.  Without even thinking about it you followed them, and soon after leaving the hospital you were hopelessly lost within the maze like streets of the city you were in.  It angered you that you didn't even know where you were. The winding roads threatened to swallow you up, and you only managed to find where you were going because you never let either mare out of your sight.  They both stopped in front of a three story home wedged between two other homes just like the one you were in front of.  They both began walking towards the door, and, with nowhere better to go, you followed them up. “… Tavi, this time we play fair.  No secret meetings with him.  We each deserve this chance.”  The grey mare just nodded, and you looked between the two, confused about what they were talking about. “So, Crescendo, since you can’t remember much of anything, it’s a bit dangerous for you to be on your own.  So, to that end, we’ve made our home available to you.  With all the comforts you could possibly want, it’s not your home, but it’s the next best thing.”  The white mare opened the door with her magic, and the three of you entered. Despite how it looked from the outside, the inside was quite spacious.  The tour of the building didn’t take all that long, and the last place they took you was the guest bedroom on the third floor.  The room was actually quite large, and so you began to wonder why this was the guest room, rather than the master suite.  Your question was answered with a bark of laughter from the white mare. “There’s no heating up here.  When winter comes this room becomes nearly unlivable.  That’s part of why we keep our extra blankets up on the bed.”  Still, despite the lack of heat, which was really unnecessary since it was summer, it was a really nice room.  The skylights allowed for plenty of natural lighting, and so you climbed onto the bed without a word, allowing your tense muscles to start relaxing.  Even with the pain pills it was starting to irritate you some. The grey mare, who had abandoned the tour not long ago, came up to your new room, a tray of food atop her head.  “I figured that you might be a bit hungry, and so I made this for you.  If I recall it was one of your favorite things to have when you were feeling bad.  I still don’t quite know why, though.”  You looked to the mare and what she was carrying, and you felt an immense surge of happiness as you looked at what she had brought for you. “Waffles!  They’re like pancakes, except that they have syrup traps!”  You quickly dive into the food, eating like a stallion who hasn’t seen anything to eat in weeks.  While you haven’t actually eaten anything in almost two days, that didn’t factor into the gusto with which you attacked the waffles.  Even if you had eaten a three course meal, you knew that you would always have room for a waffle or two. Sadly, nothing lasts forever, and as the last bit of waffle passed your lips, you let out a satisfied sigh.  “Thank you, Octavia.  I appreciate it.” “It’s no problem, Crescendo.  Think nothing of it.”  You saw a small blush on the mare’s cheeks for just a moment, but before you could really appreciate it, the blush faded away, leaving her grey cheeks the same as they were before.  “Now, though, I suggest you get some rest.  If you want to get back to normal then you’ll need to get some sleep. “Yeah, Crest.  We can’t be hear to foalsit you all the time, so you need to get back on your A-game.  Then you can come and watch me work my magic again.” “Yes, Vinyl.  That’s the first thing he’ll want to do once he’s back on his hooves.  How about we worry about what he’ll do once he’s in a condition to actually do something.” “Yeah, I suppose we can do that.  Doesn’t mean I won’t still think about what we’ll do together once he’s up.” “As much as I enjoy your banter…”  The mare’s both look at you, slight blushes on their cheeks.  “I really would like to get some sleep.  That medicine’s got quite a bit of kick to it, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stave off sleep.” “We’ll let you get some rest, Crescendo.  If you need anything, give us a shout.  One of us will try to be here at all times until you’re back to normal.”  As the two mares depart from the room, you fall back onto the pillows on the bed.  Sleep is quick in coming, giving you no time to think on what your past could be, and how you could attempt to fix this problem. A slight noise rouses you from your fitful sleep, and you feel a hoof brush your mane from your forehead.  It’s too dark for you to make out anything about the pony, but whoever they are they seem incredibly gentle, not touching your skin anymore than is needed.  A slight sigh escapes the pony, and then they get up from the bed, making their way for the door.  Just before they leave the room, though, they speak to you. “Good night…  Maybe when you remember I’ll have another chance.”  In your post-sleep state you can’t determine who it is based only on the voice, and before you can think about it any further you fall back to sleep, your mind already starting to put together some small connections, the problem of your memory slowly taking care of itself.