A fine strong wind and a following sea, Celestia’s sun a ball of fire in an otherwise spotless sky and only the gentlest rock of the boat to indicate it was still in motion.
To Octavia, this was definitely a B-Minor type of day, perfect for some low notes to be carried away from her cello and onto the gusty breeze around her. Nimbly she tuned each string on her prized instrument to just the perfect pitch, picked up her bow and began playing a bit of Manezart, her coal black mane flowing around her head almost in tune with the stream of her notes, and the waves that carried the boat. Today marked the tenth day of a badly needed vacation, a break from her normal fare at the grand theatres of Canterlot and an escape from less than pleasant drama that surrounded her last performance at the Grand Galloping Gala. A time for her to step out of the stress and strain that being a performer for high society entailed and actually enjoy a few of the rewards earned from her efforts. Her boat, The Sonnet of Harmony was proving every bit the modest but durable craft it had been advertised as, the weather around the Bali Isles could not have been better and for once she played her cello for no one’s satisfaction but her own.
Well, her own and perhaps the other traveler joining her on this little trip, on the days he wasn’t preoccupied with the upkeep of the boat…or trying to shove aside any reminders of the life the two of them had just left.
“Still fiddling away with the dusty old classics, Octy? I thought the whole reason we were out here was for you to get some new ideas, some new compositions that you could claim as your own rather than keep playing the work of others.”
A slight bob caused Octavia to maul one of the notes. She took it as a sign to stop as Harpo, her colleague and friend, climbed out of a hatch in the deck. He was dressed in a simple loud tropical themed shirt and shorts, about as far a cry as could be from his usual ensemble of crisp, pressed shirts, immaculate dress suits and polished cufflinks. Course then again, who was Octavia to judge as one currently draped in a black bikini and a flowing sarong, when normally her choice of attire was a bow tie, a stiff, starched collar and silk evening gowns.
“I am…but…like yesterday, and the day before, it doesn’t seem like anything wants to come to me.” She sighed while putting her bow down. “The day couldn’t be more perfect, there’s plenty to inspire me…yet my mind remains uninspired. It’s just…like there’s something missing…and without it all I can do is play other ponies’ works.”
Harpo stared off the bow of the boat. A small marina leading into a small and typically tropical island was coming into view in the distance, but that was about the only feature on an otherwise spotless ocean vista.
“Maybe a change from what we’ve been seeing for the last few days would help? We could dock at that island up ahead and see about resupplying?”
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “You said yesterday that we’d be good for another two weeks with what we have.”
“Yeah but I forgot to check how we’re doing on things like laundry and cleaning. Some of the towels could do with a wash.”
Octavia looked to the horizon. It beckoned with the promise of possible ideas, if only she stayed where she was and let it guide her mind along with her bow.
“It can’t be that bad…” She said, to Harpo’s annoyance.
“Do your towels normally bend?” He asked, supressing a snicker as the charcoal grey mare glared at him then sighed.
“Fine! Fine! Steer us over and get us docked. Might as well see what the locals have on offer.” She sighed shaking her head as Harpo happily ran back to man the wheel and turn them towards the island as it drew closer. Setting her cello down, Octavia rose and walked over to the railing. A strip of gleaming white beach stretched out from either side of the marina, with the expected collection of umbrellas and ponies going about either their daily lives or their holidays camped out on it. Indeed there seemed to be quite a few ponies milling about the part that bordered on what looked to be a small resort, a resort that certainly seemed hopping with all the activity and the…very odd sounds coming from it.
“What in Equestria is that racket?” Octavia asked as her ears twisted and strained to try and pick up on it.
“Dunno, but so long as it’s not your typical symphony fare I welcome it!” Harpo called from behind as he guided the boat into the marina. Up close, Octavia saw pretty much everywhere was bustling and vibrant. The marina and the marketplace beyond it seemed packed equally with locals and those decked out in the standard attire of tourists.
“Certainly seems to be drawing in the crowds.” Octavia commented upon seeing several ponies idly jigging to what they could pick up of the very odd tunes. Harpo hopped off and began to tie the boat up while Octavia stepped onto the dock and stared with a curious air at the resort. “What is this place?”
“Moku Mau Loa, apparently.”
Octavia turned around. “Sorry?”
Harpo gestured to a sign posted over the marina.
“Moku Mau Loa, Island of Eternity.” The stallion read. “Hmm, sounds delightfully mystical.”
Octavia’s ears twitched as another deep thudding reverberation vibrated her hooves. Were the day not graced by a spotless sky it could possibly have passed as thunder. As such could not be the case the grey mare instead checked the island scenery, making sure there wasn’t a volcano around that was about to erupt.
“Sounds like something at least…hmmm…I’ve really got to find out what that is I keep hearing on the air. Care to go exploring with me?” She asked. Checking the ship was tied up, Harpo shrugged and smiled.
“By all means, lead the way Octy.”
The two followed a throng of ponies to the resort, the deep beats and thuds growing to fill the world, making every being feel its rhythm as they drew closer. Octavia idly twisted her head this way and that as she slowly began to make out definite notes and chords, though nothing akin to what she knew of music. Still, if she couldn’t recognize it then that was more cause for her to investigate and thus she strode to the edge of what appeared to be a brightly illuminated arena. Hundreds of ponies seemed to be gathered and dancing about to the strange music, which Octavia could now see was coming from a stage set up manned by a most unusual sort. A unicorn mare of pure alabaster white with a spiky dual-toned electric blue mane was standing at a machine of some manner, spinning what appeared to be records on turntables while flipping switches and turning dials to mix the sounds produced. A pair of huge sunglasses with opaque purple lenses hid her eyes from view, and on her ears (well one of them at least) she had a pair of headphones. A t-shirt emblazoned with a picture of a lightning bolt striking a pair of speakers and stylish tattered jeans completed the ensemble. Every time she pressed a hand to a record to make it spin slower, or adjusted one of the many controls on the machine the music changed as a result, yet despite the constant alterations being made it never seemed to lose the harmony of its tune.
“What is…going on here?” Octavia asked breathlessly, the constant hammering beats making it feel like the air was being forced from her lungs.
“A kanikapila, apparently. The 25th one to be hosted here.”
Again she turned to Harpo in confusion. “What?”
Again the stallion sighed and pointed to another sign hanging in plain view over the dancing ponies.
“Moku Mau Loa, 25th Annual Kanikapila. I’m guessing it’s a musical jam event of some kind.” He said. Octavia shook her head and resumed listening to the beat.
“If this is music it’s nothing that Canterlot has ever been witness to, least not that I know of.” She commented while feeling her body rock slightly with the tunes, bobbing upon the streaming rhythm like her boat had been doing in the waves not too long ago. “I’ve certainly never heard anything like this!”
Harpo raised a curious eyebrow as the mare closed her eyes. “You sound rather fascinated by that.”
The music slowly built to a crescendo, like a wave racing towards a union with the shore. It crested, tilted into a descent, then crashed into a frenzy of earth shattering deep bass.
“It’s…loud that’s for sure!” She yelled while covering her ears. “Kind of enthralling in how raw and untamed it is though.”
Harpo tapped his hooves as he too was brought under its spell.
“Kinda suits the environment no?” He said while swaying his hips. Octavia broke from her focus to see her companion apparently intending to get down with the crowd.
“Are you dancing?” She asked, getting a sheepish smile.
“I suppose you could call it that. Not quite the same as any ballroom, but it doesn’t seem like anyone here really has any care for grace or poise. They just let the music tell them how to move.” He said while sauntering into the crowd. Octavia looked around and saw a bar that looked far more suitable for her needs.
“Well as I said, hypnotic.” She walked over and ordered a scotch before turning to watch Harpo meld with the crowd. Indeed every pony was putting on a most comical performance with their unrefined moves, sloppy effort to stay with the music and drunken expressions, yet only she seemed to find the scene funny. The rest of the gathered souls, they just seemed to be glad to be there, glad to be swayed by the power of the all-consuming beat.
“Most fascinating.” The grey mare murmured as her drink arrived and she drank of the intoxicating nectar. Even if the music hadn’t quite overridden the somewhat snobbish part of her that adamantly refused to make an exhibit of herself on the dance floor that didn’t mean it couldn’t enthrall her in other ways. The aid of the booze certainly helped to loosen her restraint against the heavy hitting charm of the tune.
Octavia looked to the mare on the stage, how she so effortlessly spun, flipped, and changed the music to suit her purpose. It was almost like watching her weave a spell (not an unlikely possibility considering what type of pony she was) but the horn on her head remained interestingly static, showing there was no magic involved in this. The apparent mistress of this event was making everypony dance to her tune using her whims alone, though whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
“Still, how different is our own intent when we take our seat in the orchestra?” Octavia mused as she sipped and contemplated. Indeed when she played for the crowds her desire was to have a similar effect upon the ears and the hearts of all around her. She wanted her cello to be a communicator of her own soul, a means of expressing the music that fuelled the fire within her.
It was yet another reason why she so desired to compose something of her own doing now, and was so aggravated that all she could come up with was the work of her peers. Not that she bore them any ill-will but just mimicking the sounds and the feelings of others could only satisfy one for so long.
Octavia brought the glass to her lips again, only to feel the liquid in it splash against her lips. The unicorn had brought her music to a very thunderous end, announcing her work was done and now was the time for her audience to show their appreciation.
Judging by the deafening cheers that erupted, they appreciated it very much.
“Thank you! Thank you all! Been saving that one up just for this occasion! Something to get this island rocking and some hooves a knocking!” The unicorn shouted into a mike. Many ponies stamped their hooves on the dance floor to compliment her while there came a cry of what sounded like a local phrase: Hana hou! Hana Hou!
“Oh worry not my friends, DJ-P0N3 shall return in due course after she refuels on some of your lovely local vintages. For now, however, I bid you all to welcome my totally rad colleague: Neon ‘DJ TRON’ Lights! Let’s give it up again!”
A stallion wearing a colorful assortment of glowing neon bands around his neck and legs, as well as a t-shirt and shorts patterned with a glowing circuit style design, stepped up to take over at the machine, while the mare hopped off the stage and made a bee-line for the bar.
“I trust there’s a nice refreshing glass of coconut rum with my name on it somewhere, Sea Breeze?” The unicorn asked as she spun herself onto the stool beside Octavia.
“But of course, Miss Scratch. Right here!” A glass of a pale white liquid garnished with a few palm leaves on top was slid in front of the unicorn. “Fraid we don’t have a glass with your name on it, but if you’d care to leave an autograph…”
The unicorn lowered her glasses, revealing a pair of eyes as red as rubies and which sparkled with the same manner of mystical desire. She shot the grinning mare behind the bar a look then took a long drink of the rum.
“Unless you want me to try etching something on the glass, which I would not recommend, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that in a way that won’t wash off.”
“Oh we don’t wash the glasses that get autographed. We keep them on our little shelf of fame, right here.”
Sea Breeze pointed above her head, where several bar glasses sat, each baring a signature of some well-known pony. The unicorn smirked.
“Well, how can I refuse an invitation to leave my mark upon this place? Not that I haven’t already but if you’re going to twist my arm about it…”
Sea Breeze slid a marker across the bar as the unicorn DJ downed her drink in one go. She slammed the glass back down and coughed with a wild smile.
“Oh yeah! They just do not make rum like out here!”
The marker was snapped up and the unicorn swept it across the glass. Breeze smiled softly.
“Next one’s on the house for that, Miss Scratch.”
“Tsh, please, formalities do not become an easy going community like this. Just Vinyl will do.”
Octavia arched an eyebrow as she read the other mare’s signature, stating she was as she addressed herself on stage, not as she’d been by the barmare.
“Just how many names do you have?” She asked without thinking. The unicorn turned and smirked in bemusement.
“Only two. It’s DJ-P0N3 when I’m on the wheels, and Vinyl Scratch everywhere else.” Vinyl (as she properly was) replied, trying not to snicker as Octavia looked more lost.
“The…wheels?” She asked.
“Wheels of Steel, decks, turntables….record player things?” Vinyl nodded to the machine that was blaring a whole new kind of raw yet subtly compelling rhythm under the hands of her colleague. “Not a longtime fan of the dubstep scene are you?”
Octavia blushed and licked the splattered whiskey off her lips. “No…not yet. Give me time though.”
Vinyl accepted her second drink and sipped it slowly, watching as the mare next to her returned to studying the thrall of dancing ponies with her ears cocked forward. Though she seemed resolute about remaining where she was, the mare was still listening closely to the bass and drops of the music. Vinyl’s curiosity grew.
“Well you certainly seem into the wubs, if not into their instruction.” The unicorn commented while slowly scanning down Octavia’s body, noting the slight tensing and flexing of her muscles as she let the beat infuse into her. “A mare of similarly musical skill I take it?”
Octavia closed her eyes and bowed her head in meditation upon what her ears were listening to.
“Is it that obvious?” She asked. Vinyl nodded though she knew Octavia wouldn’t see it.
“Your body language makes it pretty plain. You give off the signs of one who understands the rhythm of what they’re hearing but not the genre.” She explained with a snicker. “Also your cutie mark is kind of a dead giveaway.”
The mare’s eyes snapped open, her cheeks tinting as she saw Vinyl pointing at the treble clef upon her thigh.
“Yet, you don’t seem put off by what must be a very stark contrast to the classics….hmmm….” The unicorn commented.
Octavia shrugged and drained her own glass, signaling for a refill.
“Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s bad. Certainly seems to be sitting well with my friend there…the one in the eye sore of a shirt….stumbling about like he has two left hooves…” She opened her eyes to see Vinyl pointing questioningly to Harpo, who was very much prancing about with no care to how foolish he looked. “Yes that guy.”
Vinyl laughed uproariously. “And what brings two classically trained types out among the islands where the raw beat of nature is more preferred?”
Octavia snorted in frustration.
“Would you believe we both just wanted a change of pace? Something different from the usual fare of Canterlot and all the traditional demands of sophisticated society?” She asked, narrowing her eyes as Vinyl laughed again.
“Yes, though with that background that’s the last thing I’d ever expect a pony like you to say.” She replied, then upon sensing Octavia’s growing irritation quickly added. “Not that that’s bad, just a new one on me.”
Octavia rolled her eyes but still found herself smiling.
“It’s a new one on both of us.” The grey mare replied and resumed her meditative listening of the music. As much as she seemed fine with what she was hearing, Vinyl felt a little put off that Octavia was the only pony not currently letting herself go wild on the dance floor. A mare as fine as she would definitely turn heads if she just let the music show her how to move…course then again, maybe it was better that she wasn’t. That meant Vinyl didn’t have to peer over a throng of other bodies to study how the earth pony cast at least one stereotype to the wind by not turning up her nose at a different genre.
The unicorn in fact remained staring in quiet fascination till her ears picked up the closing notes of her colleague’s set and she realized she needed to get back on stage.
“Well if I can persuade you to stay for a bit longer, I’ve got another new piece to let loose upon the crowd. Might suit your fancy.” Vinyl winked as she finished her drink, adjusted her glasses and headed to resume her masterful control over the enthralled masses. Octavia nodded and leaned back against the bar as a brief silence heralded the changing of one musician to another.
“Alright party ponies! As promised the almighty DJ-P0N3 has returned! Who’s ready to rock this island paradise?”
Cheers erupted, though Vinyl still frowned and cupped a hand around her ear.
“Mmm, didn’t quite hear ya. I said who’s ready to rock this island paradise?”
The cheers erupted again at double the volume, motivated as much by the crowd’s demand for more as their seeming fear that if the unicorn wished it, she could deprive them all of that which had whipped them up into such a joyous frenzy. Octavia found this reaction oddly exciting.
“Well have a listen of this then!” Vinyl called into the microphone as two new records were slapped onto the turntables (wheels, decks, whatever) and a vibrant hum of fierce notes began to play over the sounds of seagulls and crashing waves. It was clearly meant to be a somewhat slower piece to offset the fast thrill of what had come before, yet expertly tailored to suit the scenery of a tropical island vista.
Octacia steepled her fingers and delved deep into her thoughts, no longer just listening to the music but now assimilating it into her own memory of chords and themes. A part of her mind that had remained frustratingly obstinate in helping her creativity was suddenly creaking open, as if summoned from slumber like a snake might do upon detecting the tune of a charmer’s flute.
“Don’t suppose I could interest you in another refill ma’am?” Breeze queried from behind. Octavia felt a smile creep across her face.
“That and a notepad and pen if you have them. I believe my fancy is indeed being suited here.”
The drink and require writing materials were placed on the bar, and Octavia spun around to begin jotting at speed, her hand sweeping ink across the paper as the music swept many a soul across the dance floor.
“Keep talking to me, Vinyl Scratch. You may be just what I’ve needed to fuel my own work!” The grey mare grinned as she began to outline a possible composition.