Cracking an eye open, Harpo looked at the position of Celestia’s sun. It was getting close to the horizon, the day was coming to an end, and yet Octavia still had yet to come looking for him. Fair enough, he wasn’t that eager to be found just yet. The waves crashing in his ears and the slow sway of the palm trees around him was proving too nice a contrast to his usual environment of crowded city streets, congested air and block after block of concrete eyesores.
That was the problem with Harpo. Despite having made it big in the city, he’d never really grown to see it as his ideal place to be. He’d been born in one of the more rural areas outside of Canterlot and had thus always equated space and nature with home. Sadly such was not where one stood to make any money as a musician and so the stallion had sacrificed his own personal comfort for success with the big name orchestras, and had done so for going on almost forty years now.
Harpo sighed as he sat up and felt his body still aching from the dancing. He’d done alright for himself, no doubt about that, but it was getting to the point where he was honestly starting to wonder how much longer he’d have to keep doing it. Age was sneaking up on him fast if he couldn’t even handle himself manning a boat and getting funky every now and then, and he didn’t want to keep wasting it somewhere where he wouldn’t be happy.
Rubbing his sore legs, Harpo made to stand. A walk would do him well, especially if he was going to act on his desire to return to the resort tomorrow for more of their music. He just needed to knock some of the rust off his joints and…
Harpo grimaced as his shoulders screamed from moving. He sat back down and rubbed them too. Dammit, out of all his body parts those should’ve at least been able to endure a little frantic jigging about! They’d been able to handle having his heavy harp resting on them for endless recitals, there was no excuse!
“Pardon me, are you okay there?”
Harpo turned to see a cute mare with bronzed fur and a flowing golden mane approaching him. She struck him with an air of faint familiarity, as if he’d seen her before but not in a long time.
“I’m sorry but I saw you on the dance floor during the kanikapila, really putting yourself through the moves. I noticed you on my way back to the parlor and thought you might be feeling the after effects of such rigorous activity.”
Harpo blinked and then blushed as he felt his body confirm the mare’s suspicions with more pangs and aches.
“You could say that…ooooh…it’s been a while since I danced like that.” He mumbled. The mare smiled and walked over to sit down next to him on the lawn chair.
“I thought so. Don’t worry, you’re hardly the first. I get plenty of tourists who wear their bodies out trying to live it up during the festive season and need to have someone work out the kinks.” She pressed her fingers into the stallion’s traps and began applying pressure to the sore spots. “Here, let me see if I can at least get you back on your hooves.”
Harpo groaned as he felt the soreness in him increase momentarily; only to then ebb away as the mare seemed to press it out of his muscles with her fingers.
“Thanks I…I didn’t think I was this out of shape. Certainly didn’t feel like it when I was following the flow of the tunes.” He said meekly. The mare giggled and shook her head.
“Oh you look quite fine and I’m sure you’re in perfectly good health. DJ P0N-3’s music just has a habit of making folk want to ignore their physical limitations in order to give themselves over to its influence. Not that I’m complaining mind you, that drums up plenty more business for me.” She replied. Harpo looked at her with a smirk.
“And you are?”
One hand came away from his shoulders to shake his offered hand in greeting.
“Beauty Brass, owner of the resort’s massage parlor, Blissful Eternity.” She replied. The smirk vanished as Harpo suddenly placed why the mare seemed familiar.
“Beauty Brass? As in the one who played fourth chair trombone for the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra years ago?” He asked. The newly minted mare blushed.
“So I’m still remembered amidst the musicians even after vanishing from Canterlot? That’s nice.”
Harpo narrowed his eyes. “Well the annual group photos with you still hang back stage. I can’t say you’re talked about much but we still know who you are…erm…were…erm…” He cocked his head. “What the heck are you doing out here of all places?”
Beauty Brass looked down over the stallion and her smile grew smug.
“I could ask the same of you and Miss Octavia. Even out here I still get the yearly publication detailing what’s happening in the orchestra. You both have cropped up amidst the articles and publicity photos enough times for me to recognize you on sight.”
Rolling his eyes, Harpo turned and let Beauty continue tending to his tired muscles.
“Octavia wanted to get away from the scene for a while, find somewhere to make good on her dream of penning new compositions to make her name with. I followed because I’ve got prior experience handling boats…and also because I wanted out just as much. Canterlot starts to wear on you after a while with how it never slows down.”
Feeling how tight the stallion was in his back area, Beauty balled up a fist and began to gently pummel him.
“I’m guessing life in the orchestra is no less stressful than when I was part of it too huh? That’s why I got out. As for why have I set up shop here amidst the islands? Well as you can see there’s still something for those of us that are passionate about music going on out here, yet the pace of life is mercifully less intense and…if I may say so, more fulfilling.” She reached back a bit further and punched Harpo in a particularly stubborn pressure point. “Not to mention, as I’ve said, I make pretty good bits out here with my expertise as a masseuse.”
Harpo felt himself be pushed forward somewhat as the mare punched him again in the back. He winced as fresh pain exploded across his muscles, then sighed as Beauty pressed her fingers to the tenderized spot and finally got the knots under his skin to loosen up.
"So I see.” He bleated wearily. “So is this a free sample or am I going to have to pay you afterwards for this abuse?”
Beauty Brass rolled her eyes and ground her fingers into another spot of deep tension.
“Depends on how long you intend to hang around here. Think you could do with a longer session to get all these kinks I’m feeling out.” The mare sighed as she felt more tightness further down towards his core. “How long have you been carting around all this stress?”
Harpo groaned and brushed back his mane.
“Too long, though there have been some valid reasons for doing so. The symphony backers and good ole Frederick Horseshoepin, the Slave Driver, demand we repeatedly give our best for every recital, party and gathering we play for. But the flipside is when we do we cannot fail as far as Canterlot is concerned. Not a lot of other positions where you can have something as embarrassing as what happened at the Grand Galloping Gala ”
Beauty choked back a snicker. “Yes, I actually pondered if the papers were having a laugh when they reported that. I mean ‘The Pony Pokey’, you really agreed to play that?”
Harpo groaned. “Well I personally didn't, Octavia did. And yes it was as mortifying as it sounds. Only saving grace was she got mentioned more in the aftermath than I did so…well…actually no, that doesn’t make it better now that I think about it.”
Beauty bit her tongue hard as more vicious giggles bubbled up inside her.
“Still, we managed to bounce back. Had to lay low for a while till the furor died down but that’s why we’re here.” Harpo sighed as he rolled his shoulders and felt how they'd mercifully loosened up.
Finally deeming she could control her laughter, Beauty let go of her tongue.
“Well if nothing else, you’ll find this place a most welcome retreat from all that, more so if you still want to indulge in your passion for music from time to time.”
Harpo snickered. “Well as good as that sounds, I’d best get back to Octavia. Feel free to drop by the marina if you have time. She’ll be tickled pink to know more of our former numbers are out here.”
Beauty Brass smirked as the stallion rose and cracked his back.
“I’ll see if I can do that, once I finish up with my clients. Probably should get back to the resort and see if they’ve turned up for their evening sessions actually.” She checked her watch and rose as well. “You feeling a bit more like your old self again at least?”
Harpo rolled his shoulders back and smiled. “Amazingly yes. Figures one musician would know how to play a fellow one.” He grinned. Beauty now had to giggle as well as blush.
“Good, then I can trust I’ll see you tonight for the next session of the kanikapila?” She asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it!” Harpo replied as he headed for the marina, adding as an afterthought. “There’s a lot here I’d hate to miss really.”
***
Octavia stood on the deck of her ship, leaning heavily on the railing as she stared in deep contemplation at the water gently lapping at the hull.
“Elements…Elements….Water…Wind…Air…Heat…”
The grey mare’s charcoal black mane billowed around her face as she rubbed her temples.
“What about the sun…what about the waves…what about the smells of the world around us…”
Snippets of music played through the mare’s mind as she thought about what she’d heard from Vinyl Scratch’s set, what the DJ has said to her, and what potential her words struck upon when she tried to incorporate them into her own grasp of music.
“Plenty of ponies have already composed hundreds of pieces about the elements. Handel did an entire suite dedicated to them! Batak used them ad nauseam for the transitional parts of his ballets! Vyatka wrote a four symphony work focusing entirely on them and their relationship to the seasons! How can a pony still do something that hasn’t already been done in regards to the elements?”
Octavia ground her fist into her forehead, stealing a glance at where her cello sat in its stand by the enclosed sitting area of the deck. She knew she should be practicing, but her enthusiasm was diminished by the idea that she’d again lapse into playing other composers’ pieces.
She wanted something of her own, yet still nothing solid came to mind.
“Come on, if Vinyl can sound original with nothing more than loud noise why can’t you?” She muttered.
“Talking to ourselves already, Octavia? I haven’t been gone that long have I?”
The mare turned to see Harpo climbing up the side of the boat.
“Well I doubt anypony else here would understand nor appreciate me going on at length about my own problems.” The mare grumbled as she turned and let the railing take her weight. “Have a nice rest wherever you ended up?”
The stallion folded his arms back and whinnied in relief.
“Indeed, darndest thing too, I ran into one of the trombonists that departed the symphony before we became mainstays of it. Remember Beauty Brass?”
Octavia thought over the name.
“Vaguely? She’s used to play High Wind’s seat didn’t she?”
Harpo nodded.
“And now she’s out here?” Octavia queried with raised ears.
“Yep, works as the resort’s masseuse. Seems she’s found life among the Bali islands far more preferable to Canterlot.” Harpo continued. “Honestly I can’t say I blame her.”
Octavia chuckled. “You have seemed rather smitten with this place, course you’ve been that way about this whole trip.”
Harpo awkwardly reached behind his head as if to scratch an itch.
“I don’t suppose that means we could possibly stick around a bit longer?” He asked, sounding like a foal asking for a toy. Octavia kept her expression neutral as she turned to study a few seagulls flying around the marina.
“Well, I have my own interests to pursue. Certainly could do with some more research on the musical tastes of the community here.”
Harpo grinned with glee.
“Also our wardrobes still need to be put through the wash.” The grey mare replied, grinning with plenty of mischief as Harpo blushed.
“I’ll…uh…get right on that then. My treat!” He ran through the hatch leading below deck, leaving Octavia to resume pondering music, and the inspiration that lead to it.
“Good, I intend to revisit the resort and see if Miss Scratch is performing again.”
***
Knocking back a third glass of scotch, Octavia leaned on the back of her chair, again watching the throngs of ponies dancing under the spell of the almost mystical white unicorn on stage. She’d gotten her wish in hoping Vinyl would reappear at the resort, and even if she was again keeping to the sidelines, the earth mare was still enjoying the scene in her own way. Thinking back on their conversation the previous day, the DJ’s beats took on a whole new level of interpretation. Sure they were still painfully loud, and jumbled, and grating thanks to all the tacked on effects of the mixing equipment, but still, there was poetry to the chaos. Octavia could now discern what aspects of her surroundings Vinyl had used as a basis to create her music, understand how the DJ had listened to what the natural world around her wished to say then translated that into notes and chords. Even if the genre wasn’t quite to Octavia’s liking, that didn’t mean it wasn’t appealing in other ways.
“There you are!”
Octavia turned and raised a curious eyebrow as a bronzed mare approached her, the brisk breeze brushing the cocktail dress away from her thighs to reveal a cutie mark of a trombone.
“Miss Beauty Brass, I presume?” The mare replied, yelling over the music as she rose from her seat.
“Saw your friend back on the dance floor, figured you might be close by.” The mare shook her hand and smiled. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Philharmonic, though I admit I was expecting you to be out there with him though….”
Octavia’s cheeks reddened as she averted her gaze.
“Dancing is not quite my thing….I’m just here for the music.” She said, fixing her gaze back on Vinyl as she worked her magic across the turntables. “Hoping to get some ideas for my own work.”
Beauty looked quasi-disappointed. Octavia could hazard a guess why when she saw her look at Harpo as if checking he wasn’t about to hurt himself with any crazy moves.
“Trust me, I’m still having fun in my own way.” She yelled. Beauty Brass smiled.
“Yes you do look quite content to just be here.” The mare said as she sat down next to Octavia. “Though, I’m curious, what about this do you think could benefit your work? It’s not what I’d have picked as being of interest to a classical cellist.”
Octavia bopped her head in tune with a very deep and rumbling section of the music.
“Nor I…thus I seek an answer to the same question you just asked.” Octavia giggled before an idea struck her. “Harpo said you work here at the resort?”
Beauty Brass nodded.
“What exactly can you tell me about her?” Octavia jabbed a hoof at the DJ.
“DJ-P0N3? She’s a semi-regular performer here. Shows up pretty much every year for the annual kanikapila then heads along to other gigs across Equestria.” Beauty Brass smiled. “Always happy to have her here for obvious reasons. Her talents do wonders for the tourist market.”
Octavia nodded as she folded her arms and propped her muzzle atop them. “Indeed, and what about her music? This…dubtrot as it’s called?”
Beauty Brass’ face went taut, either due to not knowing how to answer or because the beats hit a particular powerful note, accompanied by a gust of wind from the fans on either side of the stage.
“It’s….well….um…it’s….this.” The mare said, gesturing to the crowd. “Nothing fancy, nothing really explainable, it’s…like a force of nature. Something you just can’t resist…maybe because you don’t want to.”
Octavia ran a finger around the rim of her glass, again studying how none of those moving to the rhythm seemed to care how silly they looked flinging their arms around and shaking like they were having a seizure. Any worry about maintaining dignity was cast aside as the music catered to some deeper, more primal desire in all those present. They danced not because it was the expected thing to do (as was the attitude for most ballroom gatherings Octavia had attended) but because it allowed the music to infuse into them, to instill a sense of pure euphoria so long as they kept moving according to its instruction.
“Indeed, it is powerful stuff, and according to Vinyl, its rough simplicity is what makes it so effective.” Octavia turned to see Beauty Brass tapping her hooves and shaking her shoulders as the music entered into a systematic thudding of drums and electronic thunder sounds. “Not even we of the more refined tastes can seem to resist it.”
Beauty immediately stopped with her jigging and gave an embarrassed smile. “It does grow on you if you keep listening to it.”
A smile of enticingly questionable intent crossed Octavia’s muzzle.
“How insidious…and yet….hmmm…..” The grey mare bobbed her head like a metronome, syncing it with the time between each beat as she analyzed them. “I ponder, is this the only medium that can work such a hypnotic effect? Could one do the same with a different genre?”
Beauty Brass furrowed her brow.
“Is that what you’re hoping to accomplish here? Surely you can’t be thinking of trying to copy this sort of style with classical instruments…” The mare said only to immediately regret her words as Octavia bowed her head in thought.
“Not copy per se, just tap into the energy of it….bring a new sound to a rather stagnant brand of music…” She replied. Much as she hated it, Beauty Brass found her doubt increasing.
“You honestly think that’s possible?”
Octavia drained her glass and gripped her seat as Vinyl finished her track with a small earthquake of deep reverberating bass.
“Not exactly...but I won’t know for certain till I try. Based on how it’s completely enthralled Harpo and seems to be having the same effect on you, there’s gotta be something I can work with!”
Beauty Brass looked back at the heavily panting stallion. His body was shaking as if exhausted from the dancing yet his expression told that the aches and pains of exertion were suffered with no regret.
“On that actually, I think our mutual friend could do with a helping hoof. If you’ll please excuse me for just a second…” The bronze mare got up and walked with hurried steps to catch Harpo as he finally gave in to the alluring pull of gravity. Giggling, Octavia signaled the bartender.
“Miss Sea Breeze, we’re going to need some water and three more whiskeys over here if you please.”
The mare behind the bar duly whipped a tray of glasses and filled them evenly with the requested drinks.
“May I presume Miss Scratch can add three more names to the list of ponies she’s won over with her music then?” She teased while sliding the tray over to Octavia, who duly scanned the audience and saw the aforementioned unicorn stepping down from the turntables and making her way through the crowd for her own refreshment.
“That and perhaps more.” The grey mare replied as her eyes met with the shades of the DJ. “Much more…”