Adventure
Octavia tore through her home, more a force of nature than a pony. Pillows and cushions flew across her bedroom, then across Vinyl’s room, then, just for fun, back across Octavia’s room. The living room was laid bare, the couches all but ripped open, every single shelf checked and double-checked. Trash cans were emptied, cupboards thrown open, even the refrigerator was given a cursory once-over. All it yielded was a nicely chilled bottle of water.
Octavia flopped onto her seat, placing the bottle on her forehead, trying to ease the steady throbbing.
“Any luck?” asked Vinyl.
Octavia threw her a dirty look.
“Guess that’s a no.” A pause. “Hey, do we have anymore water in the fridge?”
Purple eyes gleamed dangerously from beneath a water bottle.
“Sooo… is that a yeah?”
Octavia held her glare for a few moments, then let out a sigh. The water bottle exchanged hooves.
“Thanks,” said Vinyl, popping off the top with a burst of magic and taking several long drinks. Octavia watched her, then dragged herself to her hooves. She trudged to the kitchen with a heavy sigh.
“Come on, Tavi!” called Vinyl, still glued to her seat. “It won’t be that bad! We’ll just get Harpo to send another copy.”
“Harpo doesn’t prepare,” replied Octavia sullenly. “There isn’t another copy.”
“You don’t know that!”
Octavia poked her head through the kitchen doorway, her eyes blank and absolutely certain of her fate. “Yes. Yes I do.”
“Alright, so Harpo might not have a copy, so what? Just go to practice and don’t mention it. Boom, problem solved.” Vinyl nodded in satisfaction, tapping a sip of her drink.
“I can’t do that!” gasped Octavia.
“Why not? How’s conductor guy supposed to know that you have the music?”
Octavia paused. A miniature Vinyl Scratch appeared over her left shoulder in a burst of flame, cloaked in a red cape and clutching a plastic, Nightmare Night toy pitchfork. A pair of horns, the same bright red as her cape and pitchfork, stood perched on her head.
“Stop worrying, Tavi,” cooed the devil Vinyl. “Just stay quiet. Don’t tell Timely Performance about it and you’ll be fine. Harpo’ll take the blame once he gets back.”
“Hey now!” A pink cloud appeared over Octavia’s right shoulder with a slight puff. Harpo stepped out of the cloud, waving it away with a hoof. “It’s not my fault! I sent the music with full trust in you, Octavia. And look what that earned me! Why if -- Wait, where are my wings?” Harpo reached his hoof upwards, waving it wildly above his head. “And that holy donut thing! Where’s my holy donut thing?!”
“Halo,” said Octavia.
Harpo rolled his eyes. “Yes, hello Octavia. Why am I not an angel?”
Octavia shrugged. “I guess that I just can’t imagine you as an angel.”
“Well, it’s not that hard! I just need white wings and a donut!”
“Halo.”
“I want a donut!” protested the tiny Vinyl.
“Nopony’s getting a donut! Halo!” Octavia let out a growl of frustration.
Harpo crossed his hooves, turning away with a huff. “Well, since I’m not an angel and I’m not getting a donut, I see no reason why I should help you.” Fire suddenly sprouted over the tiny composer, blowing away as quickly as it had flare. When it receded, Harpo had two pointed horns and a bright red toy pitchfork.
The composer glanced up in confusion, touching his new horns. He turned towards Octavia with a deadpan expression. “Oh, so you can’t see me as an angel, but a devil is completely fine.” He glanced over at Vinyl. “And where’s my cape? Why does Vinyl get a cape?”
“Because,” said Vinyl, opening up her cape, “capes are sexy. And Tavi always pictures me in sexy things.”
Harpo nodded.
Octavia turned a beet red.
“Tavi?” asked Vinyl. She waved a hoof in her roommate’s face. “Taaaaavi. C’mon Tavi, come back to me.”
The two devils evaporated. Octavia’s eyes refocused, her cheeks still noticeably pink.
“So, what are you gonna do?”
Octavia blinked a few times, trying to get the image of a sexy devil Vinyl out of her head. “Stop listening to devils.”
“Oh… Wait, what?”
***
There’s always an interesting progression to rage. It comes slowly to some ponies, their faces slowly twisting, forming into scowls and bared teeth a moment before they started shouting. It flared in some, white-hot for a moment before cooling away just as quickly. For others, rage was a lack of emotion, a burning cold that started in the pit of their stomach, turning their eyes flat and their words into icicles.
Timely Performance’s rage was the first kind.
“You!” he barked. “Get that music, Mademoiselle Melody! Find Monsieur Nadermane! Send him a letter, do anything and get me that music, or I swear by both sisters that you will be out of a job!”
Octavia’s mouth hung open. “Maestro, I have no--”
“Excuse!” screeched Timely Performance. “Absolutely no excuse! Monsieur Nadermane sent me a message, he told me that you would have the music, that you would get it to me by today! He told me that I shouldn’t see it until it was finished, no matter how much I insisted! And now you tell me that you don’t have it?” The conductor looked around, trying to find something to hit his baton against. There was nothing readily available. “Damn it, Mademoiselle Melody!”
Octavia looked down at the floor. Practice had ended, most of the other ponies in the orchestra had left, but she could firmly feel the gazes of the five or six that still hung around. “I’m sorry, maestro,” she whispered.
Timely Performance snorted. “I’m sure you are.” His saddlebags floated into the air, coated with his magic before coming to a rest over his flanks. “Get me the music, Mademoiselle Melody. I don’t want to see your face until you do.” He trotted past the cellist. “Madame Strings,” said the conductor from somewhere behind Octavia. “You are to be first cellist until Mademoiselle Melody’s return. Monsieur Horseshoepin, begin preparations for a full orchestra piece, in case Nadermane does not pull through for us.”
Octavia felt her heart sink into her hooves. She shrugged, a familiar pressure building just behind her eyes, her vision slowly blurring. She touched a hoof to her eyes. It came back wet.
I, thought Octavia, fighting her way to the entrance. I just have to… The thought trailed off. Octavia wiped at her eyes, tears matting her hooves. She shoved through the concert hall’s entrance, her cello throwing her slightly off balance.
A hoof reached out, steadying the cellist. Octavia looked up, right into a purple-tinged reflection.
“Careful, Tavi,” said Vinyl with a chuckle. “Can’t have you hurting yourself. You make most of my food.”
Octavia turned away from her roommate, wiping away a few more tears.
“Whoah,” said Vinyl. She trotted closer, trying to look into Octavia’s eyes. “Hey, Tavi, you alright?”
“I-I’m fine, Vinyl.” Octavia breathed in through a stuffy nose.
Vinyl glanced up towards the concert hall. Then back to the cellist. “It was that conductor, wasn’t it? Tavi, I told you not to tell him!”
“How could I not tell him?” asked Octavia, a bit more loudly than she had intended.
“By not saying anything! And now you’re--” Vinyl broke off, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re crying.”
Octavia rubbed at her eyes. “I’m doing nothing of the sort.”
“The bastard made you cry,” growled Vinyl. She turned towards the concert hall, marching forward purposefully.
“Vinyl?” asked Octavia. “Vinyl, what are you doing?”
“I’m gonna go punch that asshole in the face.”
Octavia ran forward, placing a hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder. “Vinyl, stop!”
Vinyl stopped walking, her eyes still firmly set on the entrance. “What’d he do?”
“Pardon?” asked Octavia.
“What did he do to make you cry, Tavi? I’ve never seen anypony do that in all of the time that we’ve been friends, then you’re gone for a few hours, I come to walk you home, and you’re fucking crying!” Vinyl turned, lifting her shades up slightly, her bright red eyes boring right into Octavia. “What. Did. He. Do?”
***
Timely Performance stood on stage, scowling at the world. His face hadn’t twitched in the slightest, his eyes burning angrily as he shoved his sheet music and his baton into their various cases. It was little wonder that the other musicians had evacuated the building
Nothing had gone right, absolutely nothing! He had known that today was not going to be a good day. The 23rd. 23 was an unlucky number and the day was certainly living up to that standard. His coffee had burnt, his baton had chipped slightly, and now Nadermane’s work was lost somewhere!
I knew, thought Timely Performance, I knew that he should have just sent me the music. But no, he had to send it through Melody. How stupid of him to trust a cellist over his conductor. The idiot! If he had just sent it straight to me, as I told him to, we wouldn’t even been having this problem! I swear, I’ll strangle her if she doesn’t get me that music. He sighed half-heartedly. Well, at least Horseshoepin can write a decent piece.
The entrance to the concert hall burst open, a flood of sunshine temporarily blinding Timely Performance, shrouding the white mare in a layer of shadow.
“Just who the hell do you think you are?!” shouted the mare.
“W-What?” The conductor blinked a few times, the bright light making his eyes well with tears.
The mare stalked closer. Timely Performance could have sworn that her eyes were nothing more than purple holes.
“Is that your name?” barked the shadow.
“What?!”
“Is that all you can say, colt?! Just ‘What?’!”
“WHAT?!”
Vinyl lifted one of her hooves. “Say ‘What’ one more time, asshole! I dare you! I--”
Octavia roughly shoved Vinyl out of the way. “I’m sorry, maestro,” she said hurriedly. “This is my roommate, she’s a bit touched in the head and has forgotten to take her medication.”
“Let me go, Tavi! Let me go!”
Timely Performance blinked away the last remnants of the blinding light. Two mares stood before him. Octavia hung around Vinyl’s neck, desperately trying to keep the unicorn from swinging her hoof down.
“You’re lucky she’s holding me back, or I’d beat the shit out of you!”
“Vinyl, for the love of all that’s good, stop talking!”
“One versus one, bitch! I’ll wreck your shit! I’ll--”
Octavia shoved a hoof in Vinyl’s mouth, turning back towards Timely Performance with a sheepish smile. “I’ll… I’ll just get going.”
The conductor stared down at the mares, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Mademoiselle Melody?”
“Y-Yes, maestro.”
Timely Performance exploded. “GET OUT! GET OUT AND DON’T YOU DARE COME BACK!”
Octavia nodded quickly. “Yes, maestro. I’m sorry, maestro.”
“AND GET ME THAT MUSIC!”
Vinyl wriggled her way out of Octavia’s grip. “How’s she supposed to do that without coming back, dumbass?!”
“GET OUT!”
***
“Tavi?”
“...”
“Tavi, I’m sorry.”
“...”
“I mean, it’s not the worst thing that I’ve done. Remember when I punched out that griffon for saying that you played a stick? That was worse.”
“Vinyl,” said Octavia slowly, “that was my boss.”
“... The griffon?”
Octavia moved with lightning speed, snatching a pillow off of the sofa and beating Vinyl with it, the thud of a pillow on flesh punctuating each of her words. “Not the griffon! The stallion whose ‘shit’ you threatened to ‘wreck’!”
Vinyl cringed under the assault. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m--OW, THAT WAS THE ZIPPER!”
Octavia gave Vinyl one last smack for good measure, then threw her pillow aside, her breathing heavy, her eyes watering again. Silence fell on the room.
“Tavi,” began Vinyl hesitantly, “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to fix this, I will.”
“You didn’t fix anything,” spat Octavia. “You only made it worse. Just… just leave me alone, Vinyl.”
The DJ seemed to wilt slightly. She nodded sadly, pushing herself onto her hooves and towards her room. She paused at the doorway, giving one last glance at Octavia before softly closing the door behind her.
Octavia put her head in her hooves, taking a few shuddering breaths, then she climbed shakily to her hooves. She trotted quickly into her room, slamming the door shut and locking it with a few sharp movement.
]Her room was impeccably neat, everything in its proper place. Her bed stood in the middle of the room, a large closet dominating the wall across from the cellist which, when opened, would reveal a few dresses, even fewer shirts and skirts, and a grand amount of freshly pressed bowties, all perfectly organized and arranged. Perhaps the only thing in the room that suggested that anypony actually lived there and didn’t simply clean it was a desk, set in a corner of the room, directly under the window.
The desk was a mess. Piles of broken quills sat beneath it, remnants of spilled ink sat atop the wood alongside cracked inkwells and balled up pieces of parchment. A fresh sheet sat in the middle of it all, groups of five thin lines running across the paper, waiting for blots of ink and dark slashes to be printed onto it. Octavia’s gaze fell on this desk, and another weight of failure dropped onto her already hefty load.
What am I supposed to do tomorrow?
Octavia dragged herself forward, flopping onto her bed. In the corner of her vision, she saw a piece of paper fall off of her bed. The cellist twitched, a familiar disquiet growing within her at the thought of a random piece of paper disturbing her room’s balance.
She crawled towards the edge of her bed, plucking the piece of paper from the floor.
To My Two Favorite Fillies.
Octavia quickly scanned over the letters. She had known Harpo for years, yet they led such different lives. The composer had a map hanging in his home, a simple one consisting of only borders and names. Each time that Harpo got back from a trip, he’d take a marker in his hoof and color in all of the places that he had visited.
That map had more colors on it than any Canterlot model had on their dresses. Which is to say that it is very, very colorful.
But that only complicated things! If Harpo could sit still for long enough, Octavia could simply send a letter explaining what had happened. But no, Octavia could never tell where he’d be at any given moment.
Send food and things to this address… I won’t be here for long, but I’m sure that it would get to me eventually.
Octavia bolted upright.
I won’t be here for long, but I’m sure that it would get to me eventually.
The cellist vaulted off of her bed, rushing towards her messy desk and taking a quill in her hoof. She dipped the quill into the ink, poising it over the parchment.
Eventually.
A single drop of ink fell from the quill. Eventually. There was not enough time for eventually. Timely Performance was angrier than Octavia had ever seen. She was all but fired; she could not wait for eventually.
She needed to act now.
***
Knock knock knock.
“... Tavi?”
“Vinyl, do you really want to make it up to me?”
“Y-Yeah! Of course! But what--Tavi, why do you have those bags?”
“Pack quickly, Vinyl. There’s a train leaving to Manehattan in an hour that we can still catch. Then we can take a boat up towards Scoltland that takes us right into the town where Harpo sent his letter.”
“Tavi… Are we going on an adventure?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it exactly that, but yes.”
“Give me two minutes.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.013 seconds
Total duration
935 users online
1,843,208 hits today, 2,139,894 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
That. Was. Awesome!
I'm not sure which I liked more...the devil/angel/devil bit or the threats...so hard to decide...
HAHA!
For the record... I wouldn't have held Vinyl back.
~Skeeter The Lurker
There are two lines in this story that I love to death. "And Tavi always pictures me in sexy things." Prrrrrr....
and 
"OW! That was the zipper!"
Man, someone has to make this into an SFM movie. Seriously.
I look really forward to the next installment. Octiscratch 4evah!
3740449 I would've helped Vinyl.
Accidentally read "A pillow punctuating flesh."
3740449 I would have too. Violence is messy whenever there isn't a clear understanding of a motive.
In general, I really enjoy reading this. Having watched the movie a few days ago, I enjoyed it quite a bit and I'm enjoying this fic just as much.
Yay update :D I thought from the last chapter that this is going to be great and this chapter is more proof of that. On another note terra I've got a story idea if you're interested and not too busy I want to discuss it with you of course it won't start until this ends and I hope that isn't soon before I ramble on pm me if you want to know more.
I think we all would have helped Vinyl, beating that guy
Awesome story. Now I only need to see the film
Stupid sexy Vinyl...
I like where this is going. Tavi/Scratch adventure story, go!
Less confused, interested in the devil cussing Vinyk as well, hmmm...