• Published 2nd Mar 2012
  • 15,472 Views, 751 Comments

Changes - Fresh Blood



What's more important? Friendship, Celebrity status, or the trust of somepony who gives it to you?

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Chapter 15

The usual click and clack of hooves on pavement was accompanied by the repeated splash and splosh of hooves clopping through puddles every few feet. Canterlot didn’t require a lot of rainfall, the whitewashed and gilded buildings looking all the more splendid in glorious sunshine, but even the capital and residence of the princess of the sun needed to water the various gardens and surrounding hills. It just so happened to be on a day that Octavia was forced to walk to the train station rather than take her usual chariot taxi.

It had been a month since she had sent her letter to Ponyville, and the rumour mill had been working at full capacity, churning out all manner of gossip and stories ranging from the mundane to the ridiculous.

The cellist still rolled her eyes at the notion that she had fostered an illegitimate love child with Vinyl. Journalists and critiques had been clambering over themselves as a result, all in the hopes of getting that exclusive interview or that one photograph of her with a baby bump that would prove it all.

However, Octavia had dealt with the paparazzi and their unwanted attention before… well, at least Beauty Brass had—Octavia had only done so via association. Even so, the beleaguered pony had more than enough experience to deal with it.

Cover was the key, and unfortunately being escorted around the city in a chariot that picked her up from her apartment wasn’t exactly subtle. She had had to sneak out the back of her apartment building, dressed in a jet black rain coat, the hood pulled right up over her head and down past her eyes; the coat serving two purposes, of course.

“Blasted newspapers,” she cursed as she stepped off the pavement and into a particularly deep puddle. She lifted her drenched hoof up and gave it a shake before continuing on her way with a grimace, the occasional sound of muttering keeping other pedestrians at bay. Naturally, that suited Octavia just fine.

Her friends had talked her into taking some time off once she had told them of her planned trip to Ponyville. She had only planned on visiting for a few days, but Symphony then suggested a bit of a longer stint. What began as a few days turned into a week… then two, and it was all Octavia could do to stop them pushing for a month. It was true she never used her holiday allowance but that was because she didn’t really feel like she needed it. A month would probably end up killing her through boredom.

The cellist sighed as she contemplated on why her life had gone so horribly wrong. ‘No, not wrong, but different,’ she corrected herself. Despite all the trouble and disruptions that had been caused by her meeting with Vinyl, Lyra and Bon-Bon, she had to admit that she wouldn’t go back and stop herself from inviting herself to breakfast with them.

She wouldn’t even change anything about the night she spent with Vinyl; it had been fun after all. An interesting change to the mundane. Something different. And if her friends would ever agree on anything about Octavia it was that she was a creature of habit. A little change or something different would probably do her some good in the long run. Not that she agreed with that most of the time.

The wind picked up a little as she turned a corner, and the rain now blew against her, clinging to her face and dripping into her coat. The biting coldness of it made her shiver, the encroaching winter easily noticed in the slow but steady drop in temperatures over the past couple of weeks. The pegasi were generating cold fronts all over Equestria and Octavia found herself thankful that she had arranged for her luggage to already be collected from her apartment before she left. She didn’t fancy having to carry it with the weather as it was.

The weather did keep many of the ponies of Canterlot indoors though, and she was thankful for that. Although she was trying to make herself look as inconspicuous as she could, she knew anypony that was actually looking for her would probably be able to pick her out of a crowd. And with a distinct lack of crowds on the streets it was also easy for her to pick out ponies that she really didn’t want to encounter, usually the ones with cameras attached to their necks.

Such a pony was dining in a restaurant that Octavia passed and although he saw her, by the time he had extracted himself from his table and gotten outside, the cellist had already turned several corners and lost herself in the side streets opposite the train station.

The grey earth pony smirked to herself at her oh-so-clever evasion tactics, before the smirk became a scowl as she walked straight by ‘Mare’s Weekly’s head office. And of course, various ponies, paparazzi ponies, were milling about the front office, cashing in their photos for pay cheques and awaiting assignments. And of course, they all saw her. And of course, they all swarmed her like ants.

With an exasperated groan mixed with what could only be described as a snarl, the Canterlot Symphonic Orchestra’s lead cellist broke into a gallop, taking advantage of a gap in her unappreciated entourage to escape. The flash of cameras and the buzz of questions followed her, much to her annoyance and she’d have been very vocal in her disapproval if she wasn’t as close to the train station as she was.

Being the seat of Equestrian government afforded Canterlot with all manner of perks. Tax breaks for government officials, the best of public spending and roads and maintenance, and a very large emergency services budget. Security was very important after all; who knew what might pose as a threat to the Princesses at any moment.

The train station was such a place to benefit from that large budget. As she approached the ticket booth, Octavia smiled to herself, having gained enough of a lead to quickly skid to a halt, reach into her coat and wave her train ticket urgently at the attendant monitoring the entrance gate.

The pony in question was quite taken aback by the sudden arrival but seeing the ticket was very much in order, he waved Octavia through, his horn lighting up to release the turnstiles and then locking them back into place once she had passed. The herd of ponies following her one by one caught up and tried to get through but the turnstiles held and, with a whistle from the attendant, two unicorn guards arrived to begin the process of dispersing them.

With a triumphant laugh, the cellist pointed at the paparazzi, “Not so clever now, are you?” she sneered, watching as they struggled to get through, and failed miserably.

“Why are you going to Ponyville?” One of them suddenly shouted when it was clear they weren’t getting anywhere fast. This was coupled with a few flashes of camera lights and the click of shutters, followed by more questions.

“Are you visiting Vinyl Scratch?”

“Is it true you’re moving to be closer or will you be joining DJ PON3 on her tours?”

“What names have you chosen for your foals and who are the godparents?”

Octavia was stunned. How had they known where she was going? She’d been so careful and planned everything so meticulously. She’d told nopony other than her friends where she was going and she’d only picked up her stalkers from across the street.

Just as it was about to get too much for her, she turned around to board the awaiting train, only to see in large, very clear and ever-so-prominent letters the words ‘Ponyville Express’ printed on the side of the engine. And if that wasn’t enough, she also looked up to the timetable above the platform to see that the only two trains departing for the rest of the day from Canterlot were the Ponyville Express and another much later in the day.

“Horseapples,” Octavia cursed, realising that the pictures that would no doubt be in the next edition of ‘Mare’s Weekly’, would be featuring a very suspicious-looking cellist trying to sneak away unseen and in disguise to continue her illicit love affair with everypony’s favourite DJ. At least, that’s what the magazines would be printing.

Her triumphant mood quickly soured.

She marched herself onto the train, and was marginally pleased to see that her bag had already been brought aboard and had been placed into the overhead railings. Taking a seat at the back of one of the carriages on the opposite side of the windows facing the platform, she placed her chin on a hoof, leaned her head against the window and stewed.

“All this effort and I’m not even getting the illicit love affair at the end of it,” she found herself muttering, before she’d realised where her thoughts had taken her and her face coloured in a blush.

“Behave yourself!” She suddenly shouted at herself, startling the other ponies in her carriage. She gave them all a bashful smile when she noticed but that didn’t do anything to alleviate their fears.

She sighed. “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about sharing my booth.”

--

“Lyra~”

The unicorn rolled her eyes, more to herself than for anypony else’s benefit. It had only been five minutes since Bon-Bon had last shouted up to her.

“I’m coming,” she finally grunted in reply as she gave the wardrobe door one final push, only to have it swing back open and the box of hats on the top shelf come tumbling out, showering her in head wear. Sufficed to say, Lyra was not happy.

Bon-Bon called again, wondering what was taking her marefriend so long to get ready. The response she got was a flash of golden light, followed by a slam and finally, a rather grumpy-looking Lyra descending the stairs. “Finally,” the candy maker smiled mischievously, pretending to ignore the obvious frustration in Lyra’s eyes. “What took you so long?”

The unicorn simply stared back at her with an unamused expression, before opening the front door with her magic and herding the other pony out. “When we have the time, we’re getting rid of some of those hats of yours,” she finally said, much to Bon-Bon’s surprise.

“What?!” She exclaimed, followed by a series of splutters and ramblings before finally getting out, “Why?”

“Because what took me so long was having to stuff all your hats back into the wardrobe. It’s amazing how many can fit in there—do you even wear them all?” The memory of a beret from Prance, dangling off her horn before she lost her temper and magically sealed the wardrobe shut, came to mind.

“Of course I do, but the hat has to suit the occasion; I can’t just choose one at random everyday… even if I wanted to.”

Lyra simply sighed, urging the other pony out of the garden and on the path to the train station. The unicorn knew full well she’d lose any argument when it came to clothing, especially since it was her fault in the first place that there wasn’t that much room to begin with.

Although she was extremely happy with her living arrangements, she and Bon-Bon had both had separate houses before they moved in together. And it was only at the insistence of Lyra that the earth pony moved into the unicorn’s house, using some of the money from the sale of Bon-Bon’s place towards the setup of her confectionary shop.

But practicality was starting to win the battle over fancy and the ideal little world she’d built with Bon-Bon was starting to be infringed upon by… stuff. Boxes of it. She hadn’t expected just how many knick-knacks and trinkets her marefriend had owned and it was only because of Lyra’s own minimalistic lifestyle that it was able to all fit under one roof. Well, almost fit. Some of it had spilled into storage in the basement… what used to be Lyra’s music room.

‘Maybe a bigger place would fix it,’ she mused absent-mindedly as Bon-Bon continued to fight her case for her hats, explaining the various protocols and intricate nuances of which hat was right for which occasion. ‘But not yet, still have things to get right before we do any of that.’

The sound of the clock tower broke the unicorn’s train of thought, just as they were passing Vinyl’s house. The dark windows and unkempt garden was evidence enough that the DJ still hadn’t returned from her tour. But Lyra soon found herself thinking that, even if she had returned, the garden would still be in the same sorry state. And it had only just struck two in the afternoon: the windows would probably be just as dark with a snoozing unicorn on a sofa.

“Come on, Dolly Daydream,” Bon-Bon teased, tugging on a green foreleg, urging the unicorn to resume walking. “Octavia’s train will be here soon and we don’t want her having to wait for long at the station. Especially if she’s being followed. The poor dear.”

Lyra couldn’t have dawdled any more even if she wanted to; she was always surprised just how strong earth ponies could be. She had to admit Bon-Bon was right though. Although she didn’t keep track of gossip as much as her two-tone-mane companion did, she couldn’t help but pick up on some of the rumours that were circulating in the magazines that had been haphazardly left around the house for her to clean up.

Most revolved around Octavia and had plenty of pictures to back up the stories. Most of them looked innocent enough, but when coupled with the accusations that went with them, they took on whole new meanings. It surprised her that the press could get away with some of the wilder ones, until she saw the disclaimers at the bottom of each article deeming everything conjecture and speculation of the respective authors.

But everypony loved a good rumour and Lyra doubted any of the more… fanatical ponies would care if they were true or not. ‘Usually Bon-Bon would fall into such a category but it does help to know the pony who the articles were about,’ she supposed.

The clock on the station was showing five past two as the couple approached and the musical screech of a whistle announced the train’s arrival. It didn’t come as that much of a surprise to find the platform relatively empty. Most of the time, Ponyville was a quiet town—not much business came and went—and most of the families were tight-knit and didn’t travel too far to neighbouring towns. It had only been in recent times that Ponyville had begun to get a greater influx of tourism. Or its own express line, for that matter.

Lyra couldn’t agree on whether the tourism was a good thing of not, considering it was mostly due to the various calamities that had befallen the town ever since the Princess’ student had taken up residence. But then again, tourism did mean Bon-Bon earned more money at her shop, which, in turn, helped to pay the bills. All Lyra needed to do was find the right tourist with the right musical connections, and she was sure she’d be a lot more grateful for the strange ponies roaming the streets and taking pictures of the ‘quaint little abodes’.

“Everypony off for Ponyville,” the shout of the conductor came from the front of the train, “Next stop, Dodge Junction!”

A smattering of passengers disembarked from the various cars linked to the engine. Some of them Lyra and Bon-Bon recognised but none of them were Octavia. It was several minutes until they eventually spotted the flowing black tail of their friend, walking backwards from the train and dragging her case in her mouth.

She doesn’t look best pleased, Lyra thought as Bon-Bon immediately rushed over to help. The unicorn dawdled for a moment before joining the two earth ponies, one being crushed by the other in what seemed more like a death grip than a hug.

“We’ve been worried sick about you,” Bon-Bon mumbled into Octavia’s mane, the latter desperately trying to pry the former off, if only so she could breathe. “Those gossiping nobles and the dreaded paparazzi! Why can’t they just leave you alone?” She continued, oblivious to her captive’s attempts.

Eventually, after what seemed like enough time had passed for Octavia to pass out, Lyra pried her marefriend off her and gave a hug of her own—a gentler one that didn’t leave the grey mare gasping for breath.

“Glad to see you made it ok enough,” she commented, grasping the handle of the suitcase with her magic and giving it a tug to get it upright. “You shouldn’t have too much to worry about now that you’re here; we only have one newspaper and that’s the school newspaper, and nopony really reads it anymore after… an incident we had with it.”

The cellist gave a visible sigh of relief at that and seemed to brighten a little. Lyra simply chuckled and motioned for them to leave the platform, floating the suitcase gently behind them as they went. “You don’t pack light, do you?” She commented, not really struggling with the luggage but still feeling it was rather heavy. And even then, it was nothing compared to Bon-Bon’s shopping bags.

The grey mare smiled sheepishly, having forgotten to send a follow-up letter once her plans had changed. “Ah, yes, about that,” she began, “It turns out that I may be staying a little longer than I originally intended… but don’t worry about me overstaying my welcome. I’ll be sure to check into an inn or find other suitable arrangements once I know what’s on offer.”

Lyra snickered. Octavia was about to ask why, and then Bon-Bon exploded.

“Absolutely not!” The cry startled the cellist, whilst the lyrist politely whistled in ignorance. “You’ll be staying with us for however long it turns out to be. I won’t have any friend of mine staying at some second rate hostel whilst I have a roof over my head. Especially after everything you’ve been through!” Lyra debated on mentioning that it was technically her roof, but thought better of it; she didn’t fancy having to share the pull out sofa.

“Al-alright,” was all that Octavia could reply with, definitely not expecting such a strong opinion from such an otherwise polite mare. They walked in silence for a few moments, before she regained enough composure to continue. “Thank you, it means a lot to me actually. I know you offered to have me over before all this… business with Vinyl but I never expected more than a couple of days. My other friends back home suggested it be longer.”

“You’ve got good friends then,” Lyra chipped in, “It’ll do you some good to get out of the city for a while, let everything die down over there for a bit.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen for quite some time…”

“Why not?” Bon-Bon asked with a worried expression.

“Because ‘Mare’s Weekly’, practically waved me off on the platform. They know exactly where I am, and of course, they assume it’s to see Vinyl.”

Silence prevailed once more, the humble streets of Ponyville actually providing Octavia with a pleasant sense of calm after her most recent days. Ponies went about their business, smiling politely as they strolled past. And there wasn't a camera or notebook to be seen. The weather had even improved she realised, as a cool late autumn breeze blew gently through her mane.

“Soooo… you’re not here to see Vinyl then?”

And just like that, all the calm went away.

“Bonnie!” Lyra admonished, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I was only asking…” the cream mare quietly replied, a twinkle in her eye betraying the sliver of hope it contained. “The letter was a little confusing is all… made it seem as if you wanted to see Vinyl just as much as you wanted to see us.”

“Of course she wants to see Vinyl,” Lyra shouted once again, ignoring the increasingly irate look Bon-Bon was developing, “She obviously wants to sort things out, to speak to each other and get their stories straight.”

“Well excuse me for asking!”

Octavia rolled her eyes, not really expecting anything else. “Yes, I’d like to see Vinyl, yes I’d like to sort things out, and yes… the letter was confusing because…” she paused, wondering on whether or not to divulge the next thought. She finally relented, thinking it better to get it out in the open sooner rather than later. “The letter was confusing because I’m confused… and I was hoping you two could help me with that… with Vinyl.”

Lyra sighed. “If you mean what I think you mean and this is going where I think it’s going then you’ve just made Bon-Bon’s day…”

“So the rumours are true!” Bon-Bon squealed, proving Lyra’s point.

“No!” came the very urgent reply, “They’re absolutely not true, none of them are… but I do find myself… day dreaming… from time to time.”

“So you have a crush then,” were the next words out of Bon-Bon’s mouth and the cellist immediately began to feel hot around the collar.

“M-maybe a small one…” she replied, before continuing, feeling more embarrassed by the second, “… a tiny little… maybe… possibly… one…”

“That’s good enough for me,” the sweet maker chirped, and then proceeded to quite happily trot along in silence.

“You’ve no idea what you’ve just done, do you?” Octavia’s attention was pulled away from the now giggling mare to a serious looking unicorn. “Do you remember what I said at Vinyl’s DJ gig in Canterlot? About those two farmers, Applejack and Carrot Top?”

She vaguely recalled it, two farmers that Bon-Bon was trying to get together. Octavia watched as Lyra nodded in a direction and when she turned to look she saw two ponies at a market stall, one side selling apples, the other carrots.

The two seemed quite happy to be stood together: happy enough for the one that was obviously Carrot Top to be leaning against the one donned in a Stetson that must have been Applejack. It was at that moment that Octavia realised she may have made a mistake letting Bon-Bon in on her little secret.

‘Or not… depending on whether or not I’m in a day dreaming mood,’ Octavia finally thought.

--

Opel and Vinyl were sat in silence in the ‘Grand Stable’s foyer. The hotel was the last hotel Vinyl planned to stay in for quite some time. Her tour, having finally come to an end in Vanhoover, had exhausted her thoroughly, and although the hotels she stayed in were always of the highest of quality, thanks to Opel Jubilee’s fussy tastes, nothing felt more right to her than her own bed back in Ponyville.

She had already decided that the first thing that she’d do was collapse for a nap as soon as she got home. She couldn’t even remember what state she’d left it in but that wouldn’t stop her. After that, she toyed with the idea of going to ‘Sugar Cube Corner’, or possibly even ‘The Hay Burger’. Even something as simple as Bon-Bon’s home cooked meals were calling out to her. And she oh-so-enjoyed her baked goods, made all the sweeter thanks to Lyra’s complaints that she always seemed to get bigger helpings.

“Don’t forget that you’re still on your diet when you get back home, Vinyl.” The distraction brought the DJ back out of her daydreams of food to the harsh reality of salads and jogging, much to her disappointment.

“What do you mean I’m still on my diet?” she complained, wiping her mouth with her hoof and removing the drool that had given her away to her agent. “We agreed we’re on my time as soon as we get home; I’ve worked hard and I deserve my break.” She scowled at Opel, her eyes glaring daggers at her. Of course, the effect was lost somewhat thanks to her ever-present glasses.

“Yes, well, with all the secret snacking you’ve been doing when you thought I wasn’t looking you have to make up for it somewhere.” As if on cue, the concierge appeared at that moment to hand Opel their hotel bill. She scanned it for a few moments before looking up at Vinyl, who was now looking at absolutely anything but her. “I see someone raided the mini bar last night...”

The white unicorn chose to ignore her agent, leaning against the arm of the chair she was sat on and going back to her fanciful dreams of home. It annoyed her, truthfully, that Opel put such stock into her diet and fitness. She probably wouldn’t be that tempted to snack if she was just left to her own devices. After all, before she’d struck it big, she used to eat whatever she wanted, and although she hadn’t strictly speaking been a slim mare, she hadn’t been carrying too much weight either.

Now she just yo-yoed up and down on the scales, never ballooning, but never constantly what Opel ‘thought’ she should be. She had thought of herself as rather voluptuous, even if she did say so herself. She even liked that in other mares too: ‘something to hold on to,’ was what she’d always said. Meaning cuddly, of course, but most thought she meant other more… raunchy things. The press didn’t help with that misconception.

She wasn’t really that bothered what most ponies thought of her, but she couldn’t help but look back on that morning she’d read the article about her and Octavia. She snickered a little, imagining the many freak outs the high class Cellist would be having, before feeling somewhat guilty at doing so. She had to admit, it was hardly fair for Octavia to get caught up in all that, in the whirlwind that was DJ PON3—not fair at all. Which was why she had sent Flitter Flash away the morning after their night together.

There were tears at that, but it was for the best, even if she felt horrible at making the young mare believe it was a one night stand. Flitter was a nice pony, one that Vinyl didn’t want to be dragged through the mud by the press. Her father’s photo frame shop probably could do without the bad publicity that came with it too.

Before long, it was time for the two to depart. It had gotten late in the afternoon and almost time for their train to leave. Vinyl wasn’t looking forwards to sharing the ride home, but she was thankful that Opel was getting off in Canterlot, meaning she was free to do whatever she wanted in Ponyville until her agent returned to find her and whisk her away to her next function, event and or public appearance.

She’d begun to make lists in her head of plans and errands that she wanted to take care of after that first initial nap. Visiting Lyra and Bon-Bon was of course one of her top priorities. But she also wanted to go to the library and see if there were any more new comics to read. It wasn’t that she didn’t like real books, but with her hectic schedule, the comics were just easier… plus, they had pictures and she was a very visual mare, or so she often explained when interviewers asked about the abundance of lasers and increasing amounts of pyrotechnics in her shows.

She reluctantly added chores to her list, knowing full well that although she couldn’t remember what state her house was in, it probably wasn’t a good one. Laundry would likely need to be done, and gardening, though she could probably pay someone to do that for her.

A few ponies took her picture as she walked with Opel and one of her burliest security ponies, the large equine keeping any of the photographers from getting much closer. Vinyl barely noticed, however, more than used to the attention. In fact, it didn’t even register to her. She’d become accustomed to being followed, stalked and screamed at, as long as the ponies doing such things didn’t get too close.

Being so lost in her own thoughts, the DJ was surprised to find that they had already reached the station, noticing busy ponies going back and forth along the platform, most minding their own business. There wasn’t even much of a gathering of news ponies or fans waiting for her, much to her relief. Her concert the night before had gone on quite late and as the end of every tour had to have an after party, she didn’t actually manage to get her head down until Celestia’s sun was up. She was too tired to do much dodging.

Thankfully, it seemed Opel was of the same opinion, and rather than make Vinyl stand around for a few minutes for photos or to sign a few autographs, she hustled the white unicorn along, practically pushing and shoving her on board the train with her one pony security detail keeping others at bay.

“Thank buck for that,” Vinyl sighed happily as she walked down the carriage way to where Opel was directing her.

“The tour is over,” Opel began to explain, motioning to a private booth in the carriage they entered next. “Although all publicity is good, I don’t think we’d get much from such a small gathering of news folk.”

Vinyl wasn’t really listening. She’d already taken up residence on one of the plush couches that inhabited her first class carriage coach and was lounging on her back, staring at the ceiling. “The tour is over,” she said to herself as the train’s whistle blew.

The conductor’s voice shouted out over the platform. “All aboard! Next stop, Canterlot!”

Vinyl grinned. She couldn’t wait to get home.

Author's Note:

Well, over two years later and here's chapter 15. Sincerest apologies for the ridiculously long delays, but time really does seem to get away from you.

Comments and critiques would be most appreciated at this point. I haven't done any writing at all since my last update so I may have developed bad habits, forgotten good ones, or simply lost my touch. Any help will go towards me building my momentum up, even if it's just a 'good job' or a 'boring, more explosions,' comment.

I'm also interested to know how many of my readers were still awaiting this chapter, because I'd like to apologise to them most of all for making you wait. And of course to my later readers for making them think they'd read a dead story.

That said, hopefully I won't slip away and die again and Chapter 16 will come soon.

Also, my plans for the story may have changed since I first began writing it, minor little details may contradict previous chapters. Nothing serious plot development wise, maybe a colour choice or a name or something like that. If anyone spots anything like that please let me know and I'll rectify the situation. Many thanks in advance.

** Special thanks to Evanescyan who provided me with 57 corrections! And as of this moment, said corrections have been taken care of.