Kill What's Left of My Modesty
Kill What's Left of My Modesty
Kill What’s Left of My Modesty
The soft rain pattered against the window sill, and created a soft percussion accompaniment to the cello’s flowing tune. Its music filled the room with its deep, gloomy chords, and demanded the somber respect of those that heard it. A grey mare in a disheveled pink bow tie cradled the large instrument as she might a dance partner. The two found their balance against the other and swayed gently to their sorrowful composition. The mare had her eyes closed gently as she played from her heart. This piece required no sheet music. It was too powerful and too great for that. It was a song of great joy that had come and gone; a song of love and of pain; a song that could not be contained on the sheets of paper strewn around the room. It was a song so holy and sacred that couldn’t be transcribed to such a lowly form. This dirge could not be written, nor did it need to be. Life was its composer and had already engraved the immortal music into the hearts and souls of all that drew breath.
A single tear escaped one of the mare’s closed eyes. As it slowly fell, it caressed the mare’s cheek as a lover might. It tried to take as much of the pain as it could before it ended its tender embrace and landed on the floor. It and its many relatives stared up from their puddle at the broken mare above them and sang along to her passionate lament.
Octavia sniffled. She fought not to remember the scent of the gentle musk that had so many times lovingly intoxicated her. She fought against this to no avail as she soon lost herself in the music and the memories once again.
****
“Are you coming out of there or not?” Vinyl called out as she rose from where she had been seated on the bed and beat against the bathroom door. “We are going to miss our reservation at the restaurant if you take any longer!”
On the other side of the door Octavia smiled to herself as she struggled to pull the tight fabric over her body. There was no reservation at the Silver Spoon for them. Rather, she had arranged for a different type of reservation for their anniversary. Poor Vinyl had not been aware of this little fact as Octavia wanted to keep it a surprise. She checked herself and her outfit one last time in the mirror before she unlocked the door and stepped out. Vinyl’s ruby eyes widened in shock as they absorbed the stunning sight of her wife. Her jaw dropped briefly before a large smile took its place. Octavia wanted to laugh at Vinyl’s changes of expression but maintained her sultry look in fear of potentially losing the effect of her unveiling.
“I fear that those reservations have been cancelled my dear,” Octavia said steamily while she sauntered seductively towards the stunned unicorn, “Why don’t we stay home for dinner tonight?” She nipped the edge of Vinyl’s ear.
Vinyl whinnied a little in response. Her eyes gleamed as lust for the grey earth pony rose in them. Her smile widened as she began to kiss the mare soft lips, “If this is dinner, then I can’t wait for dessert.”
Without another second wasted, the two attacked each other in a fury of love, lust, and moaning. They were already far into the heat of the moment before they even made it to the bed five feet behind them.
****
There was a shift in the tone of the notes that soared through the air. Not many would catch it, but the trained cellist could hear it clear as a bell. The solemn low octaves that had kept her company were now accompanied with a slightly upbeat treble. She closed her eyes and listened to the melody. The events of that blessed night rolled through head and a sad smile played along the edges of her mouth. Her heart had never soared higher than when she and Vinyl were together. They stood like giants amongst ants, their futures bright and love strong. They held eyes for no other pony but for each other, and folded themselves away into their own little universe that blossomed and grew under their attentive affection.
****
Octavia looked over at Vinyl as they trotted through the snow covered streets of Canterlot. She watched Vinyl’s warm breath float in the air; a ghostly puff that would swirl and dissipate in the winter wonderland that surrounded them.
Vinyl must have felt her gaze and turned. She caught her staring and smiled, “Only you would waste the opportunity to see a picture perfect scene like this,” she gestured at the foals playing and laughing in the frosty snow banks that had piled up along the curbs of the street, “To stare at the same sight you can find when you wake up every morning.”
Octavia smiled and drew Vinyl is for a warm kiss as she reflected. Underneath Vinyl's rough exterior, she held a secret depth that went further than the music and the alcohol. She loved to watch the world around her and draw inspiration from it. Then she would remember those moments when she was on the stage mixing, and take the synthesized sounds and fold nature into them before she unleashed her creation unto her crowd. Vinyl once told Octavia that no matter what was created by them, life was the greatest artist of them all. They could only hope to copy down its beauty and frame it in a snapshot before it was gone. Octavia opened her eyes and studied her lover. She felt a warm sensation in her heart. She might have as well been kissing one of life’s masterpieces because Vinyl was nothing less than perfect. She broke away from the kiss.
“I would sacrifice all the picture perfect moments in the world, just to wake up next to you,” she whispered, “Because none of them hold a candle to you.”
Vinyl’s cheeks blushed more than they already were. She opened her mouth to say something but a large snowball hit her in the face. Octavia had hardly a second before she too suffered the same cold treatment. They looked in the direction the frigid projectiles came from and saw that several of the foals had built upon the embankments and were prepared for a snow fight. Octavia looked back to Vinyl. Her red eyes sparkled with childish glee and enthusiasm.
“Tavi,” she said in conspiratorial whisper, “What do you say we show them how it’s done?”
Octavia laughed, “I think I’ll sit back and watch, thank you.”
“Whatever, suit yourself,” Vinyl teased, “I still haven’t managed to ruin all your proper manners I see.”
“And I have yet to instill any in you,” Octavia retorted with a smile. She gave Vinyl one last kiss before she let her go wreak havoc.
Vinyl dashed off into the white flurry, and scooped snowballs up and flung them with her magic. Octavia stood back and watched the mare she loved release her inner foal. Vinyl stopped and grinned at her as she dodged another soft, puffy missile. ‘I love you,’ she mouthed before she was hit with a few snowballs on the flank. Octavia smiled and mouthed back, ‘I love you too.’ With that Vinyl pounced away to seek revenge; a white blur that could only be tracked by her electric blue mane and rosy cheeks.
****
The music stopped as Octavia drew the bow across the strings one last time before dropping at her side. The last haunting note faded away as the room fell silent and the soft rain that had fallen against the window earlier had stopped. She could play no more. It was too much. She couldn't take it anymore. The pain of the sorrow she felt was too great and too raw to be expressed so elegantly by her fine cello. She laid the instrument against the wall and hung up her bow gently. Those two had been lifelong friends to her, and no matter how she felt, she owed them the respect of proper treatment. Now that they were tended to, she left the small, low-lit room. She gently closed the door to her studio, and averted her eyes from the pristine living room of the apartment. A fine layer of dust covered the small coffee table that supported the few magazines and odd articles on its surface. The whole room had been left untouched since that day. That singular day that Octavia felt her soul crushed, and heart shattered. Everything fell down around her as her world crumbled. Now she hardly clung onto the ashes of her former life. That was the day she died inside. She trotted out the front door, into the wet, dirty Canterlot streets and never looked back. The cool autumn air normally would have felt refreshing but Octavia felt no such pleasure. A gentle breeze played with her tangled, unkempt mane and obscured her sleepless red eyes. With only the moon for company, Octavia walked slowly to her destination, lost in the memories of a life that was once worth living.
****
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN’T SEEM TO REMEMBER TO PICK UP THE MOST BASIC OF THINGS FROM THE STORE WHEN YOU COME HOME AT NIGHT!” Octavia shrieked at Vinyl. “ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS BRING HOME SOME DAMN COFFEE!”
“I'M SORRY! I'M LEAVING AND I’M GOING TO GET YOUR BUCKING PRECIOUS COFFEE NOW!” Vinyl screamed back at Octavia before she slammed the door behind her.
Octavia slumped down on the couch and fumed now that the .
“She knows I can hardly function without that magical cup of coffee in the morning.”
“Still no reason to bite her head off about it. She knows you aren’t a morning pony and you cling to your wake up rituals religiously. She wouldn’t forget purposefully.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that she came home practically drunk and started making all kinds of noise.”
“You should apologize when she gets back. You are in the wrong and you know it. Doesn’t matter how you try to justify it.”
Octavia sighed deeply as she knew that her conscious had just won another of their mental games of ethical chess.
“You should also make some breakfast for the two of you and have it ready for when she comes back. Show her that you love her and aren’t actually angry with her. She will forgive you. The two of you knew what you were stepping into when you married each other and said in your vows that you would love each other despite your faults and quirks. So stop moping and live up to your word.”
Sighing, she stood up and started preparing the meal. She hated to relent but her conscious was right. No matter what Vinyl did, she loved her and couldn’t stay angry at her for long. She was just so adorable. She was just about done with the cooking and was beginning to feel better when a knock on the door disrupted her. Octavia trotted over to the door and threw it open wide. Octavia’s smile fell from her face; instead of her beloved blue maned unicorn with her also beloved coffee, stood an uncomfortable police officer who squirmed and shifted with displeasure.
“Can I help you officer?” she asked.
The police officer cleared his throat, “Ma’am, are you Mrs. Octavia Philharmonica?”
“Yes,” she replied hesitantly, “Why do you ask?” Anxiety rose slowly in her chest.
He stalled a few seconds. “Uh, we, we, well... we need you to come down to the station, ma’am,” he said regretfully.
Anxiety turned to panic, “Why? Why? Do you need me?” she asked a little louder, her voice betrayed her and voiced her unspoken fear.
“Ma’am, we need you to come identify a body,” he said sheepishly.
“Oh Celestia no. Not her. Anypony but her. Just don't let it be her! No. No. No, no, no, no, no.”
There laid on the table was the crushed body of a white unicorn, with a soiled blue mane. Next to her head her trademark glasses, shattered just like Octavia’s heart. The police report called it a hit and run. Octavia called it hell. Vinyl had begun the return trip from the store with the coffee grounds and some roses to apologize. She was walking across the street when witnesses saw a carriage bust around the corner and run her over. It never even slowed down for a second.
Octavia grasped her beloved's cold hoof, “I’m so sorry Vinyl. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have never yelled at you, or sent you off to get my foolish morning fix.” She broke down into even harder sobs. “I just want to take back those words. I want to make your last memories of me ones of love, not ones of anger. I want you back. Nothing but you Vinyl,” she paused as a tremor of sorrow ravaged her body. “I can’t go on like this. This life is nothing without you in it. I’ve been so alone all my life, so proper and correct. Then you came up and tore it all a part. You showed me that there was more. You helped be me become myself and not what I was told to be. You completed me and now that you’re gone, so is a piece me. The best piece of me, you.” Again she was shaken by the tremendous shattering of her life and expressive itself in violent sobs. She could hardly catch her breath, as her body tried to expel the overwhelming grief. Octavia imagined that having every bone in her body ground to powder and body burned would feel better than having your heart and soul reamed in two like hers was now. She nuzzled the soft fur of dead lover. All warmth had left it long ago, fading away as it became nothing more than a memory. It took its rightful place alongside the sound of Vinyl’s voice, the lively passion of her eyes, which no longer gleamed like polished gemstones, but like clouded costume jewelry.
She averted her eyes to keep from looking at the black track marks that marred the pure white coat that once belonged to the pony that had comforted her, held her, kissed her, hugged her, teased her, cuddled with her, lay with her, married her, loved her. Octavia sat there on the cold floor and wept bitterly. The police came in and told her that they hadn’t been able to pull enough information about the carriage and that they would keep looking. Octavia knew that the chances were slim to none that they would catch the pony responsible for this and the culprit would get away this time. In the police's efforts to console her, they offered her a cup of coffee to help try and soothe her, but at the very smell of it she felt nauseous and lost it on the floor. Angry, distraught and so emotionally torn, Octavia ran from the room. She ran until she was outside in the Canterlot streets. She gulped the dirty air. The familiar sounds of the street filled her ears as a carriage rolled by. She snapped, unable to hold herself together in any resemblance she screamed at the offending transport.
“JUST KILL ME! JUST BUCKING FINISH ME OFF! END IT! I BEG YOU! KILL WHAT'S LEFT OF ME BECAUSE I CAN’T TAKE IT. KILL ME TOO! KILL ME! KILL ME! Kill me! Kill me….Kill me.”
Ponies all around the street stopped and stared at her outburst as she sunk to her knees and wept, no long able to support her own weight. A police officer stood in the door of the station, unsure how to approach the crying mare. A stranger from restaurant came over and held the distraught Octavia. She rubbed her back and rocked her back and forth as Octavia cried. At times she might murmur something about it not being fair or that she was sorry. The stranger never said a word, but just held the broken mare.
****
Octavia looked at the pure marble headstone before her. It seemed to glow with an ethereal shine in the moonlight, just as Vinyl’s coat once had. Everything reminded Octavia of Vinyl in some way, shape or form.
Set into the white face of the stone in granite letters read, ‘Here lies Vinyl Scratch, Beloved wife, friend and partner.’
The funeral service had been a month ago, but the pain was still just as fresh as the day Octavia laid her body in the earthen tomb. No amount of condolences or apologies could console her. No amount of time would heal her wounds, they went too deep. Her soul was mortally wounded and fading fast.
“I’m so sorry Vinyl,” she said. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I wish that our last words were ones of love, not anger. I wish that I had never yelled at you, or sent you away. I-I-I-” her voice broke. She fell to her knees and bawled unashamed. “I miss you so much! This world holds no warmth, no comfort for me without you here! Why did you have to go!? We had all the time in the world! We were young! Happy! Why did you have to leave me here Vinyl!? Why?! Why did you leave me so alone?”
She crawled forward on her stomach, and curled up against the cold headstone.
“I can’t sleep without waking up in the middle of the night. Everytime reminded by the cold loneliness of our bed that you aren’t there. You were my whole world. My everything. I have nothing without you here. I just want you back. I want to apologize. To say I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it. I want to kiss you and hold you and never let you go Vinyl. Everything is dead to me without you to give it life.”
A cold wind made her shudder, all her warmth stolen away. It couldn’t compare to the cold wind that ravaged her soul though. She huddled closer to the marble slab.
“I love you Vinyl,” she whispered softly, and soft sobs racked her body.
“I love you too ‘Tavi,” a familiar voice whispered softly behind her, “And I will never let you be alone again.”
Octavia perked up her ears, and felt a familiar embrace wrap around her neck. Vinyl's scent filled her nostrils. She turned her head to see a pair familiar ruby red eyes staring at her lovingly.
“Vinyl!” she cried and grabbed the mare and kissed her passionately. After a few minutes she broke contact. “I’m so sorry Vinyl. I’m so, so, so sorry. I can never say it enough. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’m right here,” Vinyl said as she rubbed her hoof through Octavia’s mane, “I’m right here.” The pair spent a few moments in a tearful silence. For once though, these were tears of joy, not sorrow.
Octavia nuzzled herself into Vinyl's chest, and cherished it's softness and warmth. Vinyl continued to run her hoof through the dark grey mane, and consoled her distraught wife.
“’Tavi?” Vinyl said softly.
“Yes Vinyl,” she said content in the embrace. She felt the holes of her heart being healed. Her world felt vibrant again. A fiery passion burnt in the core of her soul that had once been extinguished. No longer did every breath hurt, and every second feel miserable. Everything she wanted and needed was now in between her hooves. She was for once, in more than a month, happy.
“It’s time to go home,” Vinyl said lovingly.
Octavia just smiled through her wet eyes and said, “Wherever you are is home to me.”
Vinyl held Octavia closer, “You’re so sappy you know that?”
Octavia simply nodded her head against Vinyl’s chest. Soon they broke their embrace and together the two mares walked out of the cemetery side by side and faded away under the soft light of the moon. Together, they never would be alone again as eternity stretched out before them.
The following morning several ponies gathered around the grave of Vinyl Scratch. Police stood solemnly while they filled out their reports. The coroner looked confused as he went through his examination. A golden chariot landed on the grass a small distance away as Princess Celestia stepped out and was greeted by the appointed lead investigator.
“Your Highness,” the sergeant knelt before the solar goddess.
“You called for me,” she said sternly but kindly, “You mentioned that you had a mysterious death.”
“Yes Princess,” he said, “We have been unable to determine the cause of death.”
“Who was it?” Celestia asked firmly.
“Octavia Philharmonica,” the sergeant reported, “We have yet to find any external injuries or much of anything really. As far as we are concerned, she was a perfectly healthy pony, but here she is dead lying over a grave.”
Princess Celestia walked forward to survey the crime scene. Sure enough the grey earth pony mare was curled up over the grave. She looked a bit closer at the dead pony, and noticed a coy smile of contentment spend out along the mare’s lips. She did a quick sweep with her magic and found no residue of any sort to indicate foul play. A few ideas entered Celestia’s head as she turned back to the sergeant, “Is there any relation between the victim and the pony in the grave?”
He looked down at his sheet, “We believe that the grey mare is the widow of the entombed.”
Celestia smiled knowingly. She knelt next to the deceased earth pony and shed a singular tear at the tragic beauty of what had happened.
“Be at peace Octavia. Be at peace.”
“Sergeant, have you ever been in love?” Celestia asked.
“I thought I was but divorce taught me otherwise,” he said gruffly.
Celestia smiled softly, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
"He wouldn't understand.
“Eh, well, at least I get to see my kid on the weekends,” he shrugged it off, “What does love have anything to do with this anyway?”
“Everything,” Celestia answered.
“Huh?” the confused sergeant asked, “Is that the M.O. or what?” He received no response from the princess and moved to his next question, “So what do you think the C.O.D. is your highness? Magical slaying, what?”
“Natural causes,” she said softly.
He was irritated now. He called on the princess to come help and straighten out what happened, not make it more confusing. “How! How can that be! There is nothing wrong with her!” the sergeant cried out.
“Nothing wrong that we can see,” Celestia stated wisely as she tried to guide the hapless sergeant to the truth.
"I don't follow Your Highness," he drawled.
“Sometimes, there are wounds that cut so deep that we cannot see them. In this case,” Celestia looked back at the grave. She smiled softly, “They truly loved each other and forged a bond so great that not even death could break it for long. Such love often shows itself once in a lifetime to a pony and is more powerful that one could ever imagine.” Celestia thought back to Cadance and Shining Armor.
“What are you saying, Your Highness?” the sergeant asked baffled.
Celestia looked down at the sergeant with sagely eyes, as she might look at a young foal who asked a question, not understanding the answer, “She died of a broken heart. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Author's Note
This story definitely deviated greatly from the source of it's inspiration. It all started back when I was listening to "Mojito Girl" by Europe. It the song there is one particular lyric that goes, "Kill what little is left of her modesty." For whatever reason this little snippet of song followed me all the way into my physics lecture that morning. About half way through, it went from a simple lyric into a rapidly evolving story idea centered around Octavia and Vinyl. Originally it was going to be a happy comedic story about Vinyl and Octavia getting into a drinking contest the first time they meet and then bedding each other afterwards in inebriated bliss. (I might still write that, who knows.)
As I was getting ready to write it down and plan it in the middle of lecture, my brain said, "Wait. You can't write good comedy."
I sadly shook my head and thought, "You're right brain. I can write sadness and pain though. I need a new story line. Captain Picard, can you help me here?"
"MAKE IT SO!"
"Thanks!"
Suddenly I had the inspiration and short outline finished in a matter of ten minutes. From there it was a matter of writing it and trying to inject as much emotion as possible. I wanted to make it to where you could feel the pain and brokenness that Octavia felt. I wanted this, because I wanted to bring the reader into this moment and take them for a ride and at the end, know that I left an impact on them. That is all I could hope for. If I did that then my story is a success, regardless of view counts or ratings. From some of the things that have been posted in the comments, I think I might have done just that and that is all I need.