//------------------------------// // S1 Episode 2: Walk and Talk This Way // Story: The Mute Octave // by HenryAnthonyCourtler //------------------------------// Note: Before you read episode 2, 'Walk and Talk This Way', I'd like to announce that the first episode, 'The Pilot' has been edited to address all the concerns of you, the fans. For all the feedback you all gave, I felt that releasing the second episode early is a very great reward so without further ado, enjoy the episode! S1 Episode 2: Walk and Talk This Way It had been four days since Octavia had shown up out of the blue, claiming to be a pony. Even since, she’d not once claimed anything different, so Henry had finally accepted that, to his amusement, he had an alien being in his apartment. To say it had been dull would be a lie. To say it had returned to normal would be laughable. Octavia flexed her hooves after adjusting the black shirt and jeans he had lent her. “I have to stay, having these digits on my hooves is certainly an advantage,” she commented idly as they sat down on the living room couch. Henry typed out a quick message on the smaller slate he carried on his person at all times. “They’re called hands. The digits are fingers.” “... Hands? Not hooves? Oh, that will be such a hard thing to get used to. And fingers? Bah.” He flashed her a small smile. “Sorry about that, Octavia. Hooves are on equines. Hands are the human equivalent.” “Ugh, boorish, overly-complicated language systems. Why can you not just use Equestrian terminology? Everypony and everything learns to speak Equestrian; from the smallest griffon to the biggest dragon.” Henry patted her back as he typed a response with one hand. “I wouldn’t quite know that. You haven’t told me much about your world, but our world has its own set of standards.” Octavia rolled her eyes and groaned softly. “I would like to ask you this myself before my stomach does it for me. What is for breakfast?” The young man tapped his chin as he hummed to himself in contemplation before typing, “How about some cheese omelets with coffee milk?” “Coffee... milk?” Henry nodded. “You have coffee... that is milk.” Henry nodded again, grinning as he followed it with a shrug. Octavia jerked her head upwards, her forelegs not far behind. “Ugh! You people are crazier than Pinkie’s Positively Puzzling Pineapricot Pudding!” She slumped against Henry as her right hindleg spasmed. “Yes, yes... it sounds wonderful. Can we eat now, please?” The mute man laughed silently as he heard her stomach grumble hungrily. He looped his arm around her and helped her to her hind hooves, steering her into the kitchen and onto her favorite seat across from him. Octavia hmphed as she sat down, adjusting her shirt sleeves again. “Fine, then. Let us try this... Coffee milk.” Henry dutifully grabbed a carton of the drink in question and brought it over to the table, pouring a glass for both of them before returning to the kitchen and flicking on the stove. Grabbing a somewhat large pot, he opened the flip lid on it and added water, opening the bottom half like a lid and adding in the grounded coffee; placing it on the stove once it was ready. Minutes later the coffee pot began to boil as Henry quickly grabbed it and poured into their glasses, filling them up decently before placing it back on the stove. He grabbed the sugar jar and a teaspoon and added a couple of teaspoons to each glass before mixing it in and returning the jar back to its place. Sliding over a glass to Octavia; Henry took his seat and held his with both hands. Octavia eyed her drink suspiciously before bending over and taking a tentative sip. It wasn’t as hot as she’d expect it to be; it was, in fact, fairly cold from the milk he’d mixed it with. “Mmm? Mm!” She happily took another slurp of it, forgetting her manners momentarily as she enjoyed one of her favorite drinks in a new way. “My, it’s not as sweet as I like my coffee, but neither is it as hot! Oh, I bet Forte would enjoy this as much as I do!” Henry smirked, typing a quick question onto his hoo-er, hand-slate. “Forte?” “Yes, that’s what we call our pianist. I’m a part of a quartet that plays at concerts all the time in Canterlot. I play the Cello; Forte is on the piano; CrystalClef is our tuba player, and Lute plays the harp.” The human chuckled quietly at the names of her bandmates. “And let me guess, Bass is the group bassist who can play any instrument capable of producing a halfway decent bass sound?” he typed onto his slate with a roll of his eyes. Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “No; I was the bassist.” Henry’s eyes boggled as he tried to type out an apology. Octavia turned away from the proffered device. “No. Apologize to my stomach, first. It has been quite moody, since you have not provided sustenance yet.” Henry got out of his seat and kneeled in front of Octavia, clasping his hands together as he gave her the biggest, wettest puppy-dog eyes he could manage. Try as she might, Octavia could not keep from giggling, as she pushed at his head. “Stop, please! Heehee, Ooohhh...” After the moment of mirth was over, Octavia adopted a faux cold glare. “Make. Us. Food. Now. Please,” she said as her stomach growled. Henry nervously gulped and hurried into the kitchen, the smile he bore now nervous instead of cheeky. He quickly began working away at their relatively simple breakfast. Hurriedly he beat the eggs and began to fry them on the large pan, adding pieces of different kinds of cheese every now and then before carefully folding each omelet as he finished; adding it to the large plate he had set aside. The moment he finished, Henry scurried to the fridge and put anything he didn’t need away before grabbing two plates, balancing them with one hand while grabbing the larger plate and setting them down on the table. WIthout question, he served her first and sat down, carefully grabbing his own portions as he still looked down at the ground. Octavia sat there, watching the young stallion squirm with something akin to fear. Why would he be afraid? Had she... she hadn’t meant... Ohhh, parsnips. “Henry..?” Henry jerked his head halfway up, before pulling it back down again. Yes, he was definitely not happy to have been glared at like that. “Oh, Henry... I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Henry’s shoulders slumped and he looked at his plate and twiddled his thumbs. “Henry, look at me, please.” Henry didn’t comply, instead just sitting there stiffly. “Henry,” Octavia said with a hint of steel entering her voice. “Come over here.” Without hesitation, Henry immediately got up and approached her, shoulders shaking slightly, hands clamping nervously as he felt his anxiety tighten his chest, leaving him nearly breathless. “Please, lean over.” Henry stiffly sat on his knees next to her, not looking up. Octavia pushed herself out of her chair, throwing herself atop him as she hugged him. “I’m sorry, Henry,” she said softly as she started sniffling, rubbing her cheek against his as she tightened her grip as much as possible. “I didn’t mean to get snappy, I’m normally not much of a morning person. I guess that’s why Vinyl Scratch and I got along despite our major differences; neither of us got up in the morning.” She brushed his hair away from his face and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. “You’re my friend, Henry, and my being snippy every now and then is something you’ll have to get used to; I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Friend... He thought as she kissed his forehead, eyes going wide in shock before he shook strongly as he tried to control his breathing, but failing, tears wetting her cheek as he felt relief wash over him. He had a number of acquaintances, sure, a few he might even consider friends, but they never really hung out; spent time together. Even though he had mostly been helping her walk, he’d spent more time with Octavia in the few days he’d known her than he had with some of his other friends in the past month. Several minutes passed before Henry calmed himself, taking in deep, slow breaths. “Feeling better?” Henry nods, sniffing and clearing his throat as he helped Octavia into her seat. “Good, now teach me how to hold my fork, I’m starving and drained from all this morning drama.” Henry smiled, and picked up Octavia’s fork and her hand, putting the former in the latter as he began his silent lesson. Slowly he taught at what angles to hold her utensils and how to cut into her food before allowing her try. Almost immediately, she managed to spill her plate on her self. Henry smiled as Octavia muttered curses under her breath. This will be fun. Octavia wavered, trying to keep her balance and whispering encouragements to herself. “Alright Octavia, steady now... Steady...” Her leg collapsed beneath her, causing her to squeal involuntarily as she began to fall. She didn't fall far, instead landing against Henry, who grunted but held her tightly until she could regain her hoofing. "I'm sorry for making you go through all this trouble," she muttered into his shoulder. Octavia gasped as Henry smacked her lightly on the head. Not hard enough to hurt, only enough to get her attention. Pulling out his small scroll-slate, Henry tapped at it with his furthest out digit on his hoof before holding it so she could read. “Stop worrying! If anything, I should be apologizing to you. It's not every day a beautiful woman is willing to let me hold her, no matter the reason why.” Octavia looked up with a blush, looking into Henry's warm, honest eyes. He's been so nice already, Octavia thought to herself. Most stallions only put up with a mare long enough to get under their tail, but Henry is acting like a true gentlecolt. "Thank you, Henry," Octavia whispered hoarsely as she was overcome with a mixture of emotions. She leaned in and gave Henry a quick peck on the cheek, giggling as he blushed and wavered, almost falling down with her before he steadied himself against the wall. He made a small squeaking noise in the back of his throat. Octavia giggled again and pressed close, nuzzling him. "You're a good friend, Henry. Most ponies are upstanding citizens, but even in a society where sunshine and rainbows are the norm, there can always be found that odd deplorable character." Octavia let go of Henry slowly as she shifted on her rear hooves, trying to balance herself again. "I am glad that you are not one of those." She took a few steps forward, building up a steady momentum, until her left leg twitched, causing her to fall once more into Henry's waiting arms. "Ohhh, now if only my legs were as dependable as you!" Henry couldn't help the small sound of laughter that spilled forth, or the smile that pulled on muscles long without use. Octavia laughed as well after a moment of mock indignation, failing to see how her life could go wrong. “Henry! Get your silent ass out here, we need to talk!” Said mute squeaked nervously as he quickly typed on his slate. “Its my lan lord!” he wrote rather jumpily. Practically flying into the living room, Henry sat Octavia on the couch, gave her a crazed, panicked look, and disappeared towards the front door. Oh God, not this, not now! I don’t want Octavia to meet this guy! Gulping, he hurried to the door and flashed a nervous smile to his landlord. “What took ya so long, boy? Ya gone deaf on me too? Well, it’s a good thing I know sign language, heh heh...” Henry meeped as his landlord got right into his face, eyes blazing like angered volcanoes. “I. Want. My. Money, boy.” Octavia, squirmed, whoever her friend was talking to, whoever this landlord was, he was not very nice. Glaring at her legs and willing them to heed her wishes, she started shuffling towards the door, leaning against the couch and other objects when she couldn’t quite keep her balance. Henry felt as if he was gonna sweat to death when he felt a hand move him behind his guest protectively. “Excuse me, sir,” Octavia said in a firm and clipped tone as she leaned against the doorframe, “but you are accosting my friend, and I don’t take kindly to others treating my friends like glue factory rejects.” The man glared at her and pointed a finger at Henry. “It’s the eighth of the goddamn month and he was suppose to pay me by the fifth,” he growled angrily. “Oh yes, and that obviously means that you can just go braying away like some old mule who got the stick one too many times! Henry, I know that you took mail with you when you left this morning, did you, by any chance, drop off your pay?” With a whimper, Henry nodded slightly, body still tensed with fright, his chest rising and lowering quickly as he tried to keep his eyes dead on his landlord. Quickly, he typed a response. “I went to drop the my check off and it’s all set to be transferred to your account before the end of the day. Just like always!” The man growled before looking at Octavia again, and grunting in defeat. “Fine, it’d better be there, and if your girlfriend’s gonna be living here too, I’m adding a hunnerd dollars to your rent.” As his landlord lumbered away, Henry could faintly hear him say “Fuckin’ bitch,” before he turned around the corner, and out of sight. Henry released a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding and helped Octavia back to the couch, where she sat leaning against him. “Henry, who was that awful man?” He merely sighed and tried to collect his thoughts as he began to slowly type on his slate. “That’s my miserable landlord who finds all this hate in his heart to just bother me constantly and complain about stupid shit.” “Really? Why do you let him bully you so much?” Another moment of silence ensued, as Henry typed, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass slate. “Well... This was the only place in town that’d take a person like me.” “That’s absurd! There has to be somepony out there who would be nice enough to actually be nice to you!” “Someone you mean?” he corrected on his slate before continuing. “A lot of people don’t want to “deal” with a mute person, because they all assume I’m going to somehow exploit that and get leeway with everything. That or sue them over frivolous bullshit and win on the grounds that I’m handicapped.” he explained as thoroughly as he understood it, sighing in frustration. Octavia shifted absently, laying down with her head in his lap, like she would with Vinyl. “That’s absurd! That’s like saying I’d sue a unicorn because I don’t have a horn!” she looked up at him, a hand on her forehead as she stared at him with exasperation. “Do you not understand how absurd that is? Completely so!” Henry looked down at her, his hand absentmindedly running through her long, silky smooth hair as he typed one handed. “I do understand... Its just... You know...” “Know what?” Henry shrugged and made a circular motion with his hand. She shook her head no and waited for him to continue. “Humans are... well, we’re pretty much assholes.” He typed, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s no real way around it to be frank. A lot of people tend to discriminate in this country over special needs or being handicapped in any sort of way.” Octavia groaned, massaging her forehead with her hoo— hands. They’re hands. Ugh. “Why must humans be so overly complicated, Henry? Ponies only got this convoluted when you were dealing with the more uppity nobles. And as for handicaps, there aren’t all that many, maybe one bout of cancer or a pegasus with disproportioned wings. There’s not much that can’t be fixed with a little magic.” Henry looked away sadly, typing slowly on his slate. “Anyway it can bring back someone I lo—” He quickly erased the message, not allowing her to see the screen. “Someone you... lost? Well, there are plenty of spells for tracking a pony down, but... I don’t have magic; I’m just your average earth pony.” “Forget about it; It’s nothing.” He wrote, waving his hand dismissively. Getting back up, he quickly wrote. “How about that walking exercise? Lets see how you do on your own.” Henry held out his hand, letting Octavia take it and pull herself up onto her feet. Holding one hand aloft, Octavia shook the appendage at the ceiling. “I swear, I’ll get this down in no time, Henry!” Octavia’s stomach gurgled, causing her to deflate. “Once I’ve mastered holding a fork...” Henry squeaked in laughter, holding his sides as she blushed a faint crimson. “We’ll pick up on your walking training when you get eating down.” He typed out, chirring playfully. Sticking her nose in the air with an indignant huff, Octavia took two steps forward before promptly falling against Henry, and pointing towards the kitchen. “C’mon, now, Henry. Be a dear and walk me to the dining room. I shan’t make my poor tummy wait a second longer, else I may start eating the begonias.” His eyes crinkled with mirth as he allowed her to use him as a cane of sorts and sat her down once again in the kitchen. He took a seat next to her and wrote on his slate once again. “Anything specific, you’d like?” “Not particularly, no. I might enjoy a salad or some daffodil soup, if you have it.” “How about tomato soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches?” “Yes, that sounds delightful!” Henry smiled and got up. Time to bust out the Campbell’s. Going up to the cabinets, he opened one near the microwave and pulled two cans of tomato soup along with two big white bowls, using a can opener he always kept beside it to open them and pour the thick cold soup into the bowls. He grabbed some paper towels and folded them nicely, placing them on top of the bowls before putting them in for the microwave; dialing it in for several minutes as he strolled over to the fridge, grabbing butter and swiss cheese. He then grabbed the bread from the pantry. Henry took a little butter and put it in a small sauce pan to get it lightly greased, before buttering up one side of each slice of bread. Once the pan was ready, he placed a slice of bread butter-side down into it, adding the swiss cheese, and then another bread slice butter-side up. He placed the pan’s lid over the sandwich, and turned to check on the soup. Seeing that it was going as fine as ever, he went back to the fridge with the cheese and butter in tow, putting them away before pulling out a 2 Liter of Sprite. Grabbing two cups from the cupboard, he returned with them to the table, pouring himself and Octavia each a glass. After setting out the drinks, he returned to the stove, flipping the sandwich with an expert flick of his wrist when it had cooked long enough on one side, leaving it a golden brown. Letting it cook on the other side, he continued cooking and walking back to check on his friend. When the soup and sandwiches were finally done, Henry sat down beside Octavia, refilled her glass, and picked up half a sandwich and dipped it in his soup. “Ugh, why are you eating like that? Is it not more refined to eat with one’s spoon?” Smirking, Henry pulled out his slate and began typing, even as he continued to eat. “Grilled cheese sandwiches and soup can be eaten separately, sure, but when put together it just tastes better. And really, refinement is for people that have the money to get others to yell for them instead of at them,” he chastized playfully, flicking her nose and sticking his tongue out at her. Puffing her cheeks out as she blushed, her eyes narrowed with anger, she picked up her sandwich, dipped it into the soup, and took a bite. And another. And then a third. “Mmmm!” After she’d eaten half her meal in this way, she finally noticed that Henry was convulsing, tears streaming down his face as he laughed, completely silent but for the odd gasp or squeak. “Oh, stop laughing, you cretin. And I thought you were a gentlecolt, as well! Looks like you’re no better than the rest of humankind.” Henry shrugged, smiling widely as he shook off the last of his laughs and began eating again. Octavia ate in relative silence before she returned her gaze at him. “Despite being such a cretin, I would like to thank you for the wonderful meal, Henry.” Henry smiled softly, waving a hand in a dismissive gesture. Finishing up the last of his soup, Henry took his and Octavia’s dishes and puts them in the dishwasher after giving them a quick rinse so they wouldn’t stain. Finished in the kitchen, he flicked off the light, helped Octavia to her feet, and helped her walk down the hall towards his bedroom. Octavia snuggled into the covers, sighing softly as Henry started towards the door, pillow and blanket in hand. “Henry...” He turned around, an inquisitive look on his face. “Would you mind sleeping in here? I... I’ve been feeling rather depressed, and somewhat angry for the past day or so. Vinyl used to hold me when I got distressed, and sometimes sing to me. I was wondering... I-if it wouldn’t be a bother, of course...” Henry smiled slightly, a blush coloring his cheeks as he pulled the covers aside and slipped in next to her. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Octavia, and she surprised him by almost crushing the life out of him in return, before relaxing her grip. “Thank you, Henry... You’re a good friend, for a cretin.”