There's Something About Mixed Media...
As much as he tried to hide his age, Parker was already starting to accept that he wasn’t as young as he once was. His knees and ankles creaked and groaned as he ascended the cramped, spiral staircase in the heart of Lord Spyglass’s house. His butler’s jacket that was once only just big enough to contain his figure now began to hang loosely round his thinning body and forelegs.
Reaching the first 'upstairs' level of the staircase, opening out into what was known as the Octagon Lobby, Parker set down the large copper kettle that he had been carrying with his magic aura onto the hoof stitched Saddle-Arabian carpet in order to catch his breath. The steam rising from both the spout and under the small gaps in the lid indicating the kettle was full of piping hot water, straight from the kitchen. Even his magic was growing weaker, a few years ago he would have been able to bound up the stairs two at a time without even a thought of spilling the hot water or losing his balance, but now he was having to take short breaks every now and again when lifting things. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d almost dropped the bowl of sprouts into Lady Jewel’s lap at the dinner table.
Hearing one of the doors to the dining room to his left click open, Parker inhaled deeply and plucked the kettle from the carpet as quickly as he could with his teeth. If his lordship caught him taking a quick breather, there was no doubt in Parker’s mind that Spyglass would look into a younger replacement for him without hesitation. Turning his head to look he was relieved to see that it was in fact the young maid that his lordship had recently employed, roughly the same age as Mixed Media, trying to make her rounds of dusting the vast array of antiques that her employers owned whilst not being seen. They both exchanged a silent nod with each other, before parting their separate ways amongst the house, the maids soft hoofsteps on the carpet being the only noise throughout the lobby as she made her way through the room to the east entrance of the house.
Parker made his way further up the spiral staircase till he reached the next floor, swapping from carrying the kettle with his teeth to using his magic again. The small, lattice framed windows and the dark oak panelling that lined the walls made it seem darker than it actually was, the tiny lamps that lined the corridor flickering in the semi-darkness. Coming to a stop outside one of the doors, Parker set down the copper kettle on the floor once again, raising one of his forehooves and giving three shot, sharp knocks on the door, just above a small brass plaque that simply read ‘Mixed Media’.
“Come in!” Mixy replied from the other side.
Picking up the kettle with his magic again, Parker raised a fore-hoof and opened the door to the room, slowly letting himself in. He had to squint his eyes slightly as he entered the bedroom, as it was totally at odds with the corridor he’d just been stood in. The thin, tall ceilinged, cramped, dark oak panelling gave way to a bright and airy room, painted in a shade of pale yellow that only helped to enhance the morning sunshine that was flooding into the room through three rectangle large windows on the opposite side of the room, set in a bay pattern. Ever the modest pony Mixy was, a changing screen stood unfolded just beyond the end of the bed, the steam from her morning bath rising from behind, allowing her a view of the coast as she bathed.
Parker walked up to the screen “I’ve brought the extra water you required to wash your mane with, M’Lady”
Parker floated the kettle round to the other side of the side of the screen, gently lowering it down to ground level before letting go. The relief he felt from letting go of the weight washing over him instantly.
“Thank you Parker” Mixy replied.
Parker busied himself looking around from where he sat whilst he waited for the empty kettle. A tall four poster bed stretched out into the room from the wall that backed onto the corridor, the plush violet quilt dropping off of the sides of the mattress and sweeping down to the floor, matching the curtains. Despite being slept in the bed was neatly made, almost with military precision. In-between two large plumped pillows sat the tiny figure of a rag doll pony, clearly worn, but also clearly loved. Parker and Cook had both cobbled together to buy the doll when Mixy was a tiny filly for her birthday, much to the annoyance of Lord Spyglass and Lady Jewel, who were both of the mindset that young ponies shouldn’t own such things and grow up as quickly as possible. Despite numerous attempts by them both to try and dispose of the doll, both Parker and Cook always took the time to stitch up any tears that would mysteriously appear or return it to Mixy’s room if either of them happened to come across it in a far off part of the house or gardens. On the left hand side of the room a large white wardrobe stretched upwards, Parker using his magic to lift down a folded towel that had been placed on top of it.
The sound of water splashing indicated to Parker that Mixy was climbing out of the large tub.
“I may never really be all that keen on having ponies doing everything for me Parker, but there’s one thing I can’t deny, you’ve certainly mastered the art of making the perfect bath”
“My father was a pit pony, M’Lady. The amount of soap suds and skill required to get the vast amount of coal dust out of his coat, mane and tail on a daily basis was incredible!”
One of Mixy’s forehooves poked round from behind the screen. Parker handed her the towel.
“Yes” Parker continued, reminiscing “I’d have to spend at least one night a week after school with a grater turning bars of soap into fine shavings, just so that the our weekly soap budget would hopefully last longer. I’ve probably still got some small flakes of lavender stuck in these hooves somewhere” He inspected one of his forehooves, almost expecting a small light purple flake to suddenly become prominent.
Mixy stepped out from behind the screen, the towel hung round her neck, trying to clear out the small amount of bath water still left in her ears.
“What an interesting life you’ve had Parker”
“Oh, I’d hardly say that M’Lady”
Mixy quickly changed the subject “I was wondering, when you’re taking me to the university, if we could possibly-“
A high pitched whistling sound could be heard emanating from the corridor, indicating that either Lord Spyglass or Lady Jewel were using the speaking tube system that ran like veins through the house to contact try and Parker.
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll tell you later” Mixy lifted the towel over her head and started to use it to hoof dry her mane again “You’d better see what my parents want”
Parker picked up the empty kettle in his magic again “I’ll have the carriage waiting, M’Lady”
In the bathroom of the his and Sandy’s small terrace house, Tonnage’s head and forehooves rested on the rim of the enormously deep bathtub, just above the steaming hot water. His recently washed mane, still smelling strongly of a mix of citrus fruits, was tied up behind his head in a large towel to match his size. A small radio on a shelf at the side of the bath gently played out jovial classical music, which Tonnage quietly hummed along to as he leafed through one of Sandy’s magazines that she always left on the stand beside the bath. Relaxing even more in the hot water, his eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier…
“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!”
The scream of a young stallion went straight through the house, causing Tonnage to bolt upright in surprise.
“Ostin! I told you the suds wouldn’t get in your eyes and ears if you just stayed still!” Sandy’s shouting almost rivalled Ostin’s screaming.
With a smug grin starting to stretch across his face, Tonnage laid back down in his bath and went back to reading about how to convert a pair of old curtains into pillowcases. It was times like this he was happy he was too large to fit in the old tin bath.
In the small green living room downstairs, Sandy was struggling to keep Ostin from escaping from the small tin bath which she had set up in front of the black metal fireplace. Ostin was certainly unhappy with the current situation.
“Sandy, I’m…” Ostin briefly stopped struggling as a jug of bathwater was poured over his head to try and wash away the soap suds, his mane washing down over his eyes “…I’m perfectly capable of washing myself!”
“That’s as maybe, but I know you young stallions, you can somehow have a wash without even getting your mane, tail, or even the soap wet!” Sandy began rubbing a bar of soap in Ostin’s yellow hair, lathering it up “And you want to look nice for your first day of classes, don’t you?”
“It’s a university! It’s hardly-” Ostin stopped as Sandy used her magic to pour another pot of the bathwater over him “It’s hardly the Ritz of Canterlot!”
Sandy didn’t listen though as she grabbed a giant scrubbing brush with her magic aura. Given how the brush head was almost as big as his own, Ostin could immediately tell it belonged to Tonnage. He winced slightly as Sandy began using it to scrub behind the back of his ears.
“So” Sandy continued, changing the subject “Who is this mystery mare of yours that you’re so reluctant to talk about?”
Ostin groaned and submerged his mouth below the water line, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
“Come on, a clue perhaps? Tonnage and I might know them” Sandy stopped scrubbing for a brief moment “It isn’t the one who’s I.D. card you got mixed up with is it? Now, what was that name again…”
Ostin’s eyebrows dropped further down his face in annoyance.
“…anyway” Sandy said, brushing with some force again “You can’t be silent about it forever Ostin!” She finally stopped brushing, pouring a final large cup of water over Ostin before plucking him from the tin bath, setting him down on soft towels on the floor beside it “Everyone’s bound to find out sooner or later”
Ostin still refused to talk about Mixy as he sat there, the remnants of the bath water dripping off of him and onto the towels. He picked up a spare hoof towel at the side of him and began rubbing his mane dry.
“No need to hoof dry yourself, Ostin” Sandy said.
Ostin pulled the towel away from his face, but before he had time to react he was confronted with the full force of a hairdryer. He could feel his gums and eyelids being forced back by the strength of the hot air, briefly stopping when Sandy progressed the dryer along his coat and tail, before returning to his mane. It took him a few seconds to recover when Sandy finally turned it off. Blinking his eyelids several times, he regained his focus to find Sandy trying to stifle a laugh.
“What is it?” Ostin tilted his head slightly sideways.
Sandy moved a fore hoof to cover her mouth “…nothing…”
Gingerly, Ostin raised one of his forehooves to feel the front of his mane. He pressed down, taking his hoof away and feeling his mane brush against his hoof as it sprang back into place.
Sandy’s lips quivered, and her left eyelid started to flinch behind her glasses.
Ostin bolted from the living room and tore through the house as he raced up to his room in the attic, slamming open the bedroom door and running over to the full length mirror. As he stood there his worst fears were confirmed before his eyes. His coat, mane and tail has becoming incredibly fluffy, the top of his mane springing up from the top of his head. He tried to flatten it down again with a hoof, only to find that it sprung up again just as quickly.
Accepting his fluffy state, he let out a heavy sigh as he walked over to the wardrobe to pick out a sweater vest for the day.
A few minutes later, with a highly audible clunk, Tonnage slid the bolt on the bathroom door open. Pulling open the door he whistled a piece of music that he’d heard on the radio during his long, drawn out bath. He stopped himself just in time before he trod on Ostin, waiting outside the door, with one of giant hooves. Looking down at the small, fluffy stallion, Tonnage struggled to contain his laughter as much as Sandy.
Ostin glared back at him “You say one word…”
Like always, Tonnage said nothing, but his smug smile on the other hand spoke a thousand words.
Having been summoned by his lordship, Parker stepped into the gallery. Of all the rooms in the manor this one was probably his least favourite, mainly due to the ever lingering smell of cigar smoke. Despite a large oak panelled billiards table being the centrepiece of the room, his lordship hardly ever played billiards, mainly using the room as a means to show off his wealth to his guests. But when he was simply playing the game by himself, as he was now, Parker knew it could only mean one thing, he was deeply annoyed about something. Spyglass was at the opposite end of the table carefully trying to line up a simple straight shot, attempting to pocket a single red ball.
“Tell me Parker, how is my daughter this morning”
“She’s well M’Lord” Parker replied “Your lesson of making her thankful for what you provide to her seems to have been well learned yesterday evening”
Parker lied through his teeth. His lordship still didn’t know that he’d actually gone out and found Mixy during the rain storm the previous night. After sneaking back through the tiny window into his room downstairs when they returned to the manor, he’d also helped her further by supplying Mixy with enough hot water bottles and blankets to help keep a possible case of pneumonia away.
“Interesting” Spyglass squinted his eyes as he took aim. He reached into his smoking jacket pocket and removed a slip of paper “Do you know what this is”
“It appears to be a telegraph messaging slip, M’Lord”
“It came from a friend of mine in the town. They were walking home last night during the rain, when they passed a pony walking in the middle of the tramway who they’re certain was my daughter”
“It sounds like your daughter shows initiative, M’Lord. The tram terminus is quite close to the hill leading up to the house”
“Be that as it may, they…” he studied his shot again “…they also mentioned that she was with a stallion”
Parker froze. silently praying that he hadn’t been identified “A-A stallion, M’Lord?”
“Yes…” Spyglass took his shot, failing to pocket the red ball miserably “A young grey one apparently, offering her shelter and directions from under a large umbrella”
Parker sighed with relief internally, realising that it was Ostin who she’d been seen with.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my daughter and a young stallion, would you?” Spyglass asked, looking down his nose at Parker.
“No M’Lord” Not for the first time that morning, Parker lied through his teeth to his employer in good faith.
Setting down his cue on the table, Spyglass slowly walked the whole 11ft of the tables’ length towards Parker, coming to a stop dead in front of him and staring straight into his eyes, their noses almost touching. A few beads of sweat started to form on Parker’s brow.
“If you hear anything at all, either from my daughter or from anyone else, tell me. I’ll not have my daughter associating with a member of the lower classes” Spyglass headed towards the door that joined the room to the west wing, opening it “I know the class of people you associate with in the town are always gossiping about us Parker. Something might turn up. I want to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hoof”
He left the room, shutting the door behind himself.
A few moments passed before Parker dared to let out a heavy sigh of relief, face planting the green baize of the billiards table.
Shortly, on the outskirts of the town, Parker was waiting at a set of traffic lights, letting out a yawn and shivering slightly in the cold morning breeze. Mixy, as per normal, was stood on her hind legs on the front seats of the carriage, looking out ahead from the open front window.
“Are you quite sure this is what you want to do M’Lady?”
“Of course. It’s only polite to return the favour Parker”
“But what if your father finds out? I told you how he suspects that something might be up””
“Leave that to me. As long as I add a fancy made up title to Ostin’s name, father won’t care one bit!”
Parker chuckled to himself. That certainly did sound like something that his Lordship wouldn’t give a second thought about. Giving another heave as the light turned green, Parker pulled the carriage further into the suburbs of Colton-on-Sea.
Ostin wasn’t happy.
He slammed the front door to the house shut and stomped down the stone steps onto the tree lined pavement, his fuzzy mane bobbing up and down with every hoofstep. Walking down the street to the tram stop, once again he tried to use one of his forehooves to flatten down his springy, fluffy mane in vain. He grumbled to himself as he carried on his way, hearing the tell-tale sound of scraping metal that indicated a tram was approaching the stop. He didn’t hurry though, the track from the stop heading towards the university climbed steeply and curved along the cobbled street, so there was always the option of simply jumping on the slow moving tram if it happened to set off beforehand.
Caught up in his thoughts and staring dead ahead at the cream and red double decker tram parked at the stop across the road, he walked straight off the end of the curb and into the road without looking.
A high pitched whiney instantly caught his attention.
Ostin looked to his right to see a horse and carriage heading straight for him. Realising the situation he was now in his ears immediately flicked backwards and his pupils shrunk to tiny dots. He could have run out of the way to the safety of the pavement, but instead he did the most noble thing any stallion would have done. He curled himself into a ball, covered his eyes with his forehooves and screamed as he waited for the inevitable.
The carriage swerved to the right at the last moment, coming to a sharp stop alongside Ostin, its front wheels barely missing his nose. A loud thump could be heard as something flung forward inside the carriage, followed by the door flinging open, revealing Mixy, her eyes still spinning round and round in their sockets. She swayed slightly as she tried to steady herself, a swift knock of her head against the door frame seemed to do the trick.
“Mixy?!” Ostin asked, slightly puzzled “What are you doing here?”
“Ostin, you never told me you had a twin!” Mixy’s dizziness was troubling her vision.
Parker, who by now had unfastened himself from the carriage after the sudden stop, walked up alongside, looking rather concerned for Mixy’s condition.
“But I…” Ostin decided to approach the carriage doorway, cautiously “How many hooves am I holding up?” Ostin held up a single fore hoof in front of Mixy’s face.
“Five!” Mix exclaimed, a little too loudly “…how are you doing that?”
“Ok, I think you need to sit down for a bit”
“Nonsense” Mixy closed her eyes and lifted her nose in retaliation “I’m fine”
She raised a hoof to take a step down from the carriage, promptly missing her footing by a long shot and landing in a heap on top of Ostin.
Parker shook his head sympathetically “A helping hoof, M’lady?” He reached down with one of his forehooves, lifting up one of Mixy’s in return and helping to guide her back up and into the carriage.
“So” Ostin turned to Parker “Not to sound rude, but what are you two doing here?”
“The young lady thought it best to return the favour after you helped guide her last night and offer you a trip back into the town in the carriage for your trouble” Parker used his magic to remove Ostin’s saddlebags and lifted them into the carriage “I take it you’re heading to the university today as well?”
“Yes” Ostin climbed up the metal steps and into the carriage.
Parker started to shut the door, then stopped “Oh, there’s an empty ice bucket in the compartment under the back seats should travelling along the cobbled streets prove…nauseating…”
“But I don’t get travel sick” Ostin stated, almost instantly realising what Parker meant, turning his head to look at Mixy, who was now sat hunched over in her seat with her head in her hooves “…oh…”
The majority of the dizziness in Mixy’s head soon vanished as they traveled along, the carriage rocking gently to and fro having a calming effect, though she still found it easier to keep her hooves over her eyes. Ostin however, was mainly focused on making sure she kept sitting upright in her seat. He kept feeling somewhat nervous every time she unintentionally started to lean against his body as a support. She eventually slid down onto her side from her sitting position and rested her head in his lap, causing Ostin to panic somewhat.
Mixy pulled her hooves back from her eyes slightly, revealing her blue irises “What’s wrong?”
“N-Nothing!” Ostin tried to put on a convincing smile, but failed miserably.
“Anypony would think you’ve never been near a mare before”
Ostin just stared ahead blankly, just letting it sink in in his mind that, indeed, this was actually the first time he’d been close a mare of his age. Mixy let out a small chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, it’s just” Mixy tried to contain a giggle “Having only properly seen you in the pouring rain, I had no idea your coat and mane could be this fluffy naturally”
“It is not this fluffy naturally!” Ostin crossed his fore-hooves in annoyance, pouting “It’s just the results of excessive soap suds, that’s all”
“Sure it is!” Mix rolled her eyes in a sarcastic fashion, shaking her head slightly.
“So” Ostin looked around the well styled and plush interior of the carriage “I suppose this must have cost quite a few bits. Is your family really posh or something?”
Mixy froze slightly. So far she hadn’t mentioned anything about her parents or her background to Ostin, and she felt like he was actually treating her just like a regular pony because he didn't know. If he found out, would his attitude suddenly change? Would he suddenly become like one of the many suitors her parents had chosen, simply being in her company for the chance of possibly obtaining some of their wealth? Or would he become like some of the staff at the university, whom knowing her background would tremble in fear in her presence, treating her like royalty and feeling as if any mistake they made could result in them being sacked on the spot? Panicking slightly, she tried to think of a convenient explanation.
“It’s a taxi carriage” Mixy blurted out.
“Really?” Ostin seemed surprised “Taxi’s must be far posher in this region of Equestria than from where I’m from. That, and judging from the lack of signage on the outside, far more inconspicuous”
“Yes…” Mixy’s voice nervously trailed off, unsure as to whether he believed her or not.
She could only hope.
Having been dropped off in the carriage park next to the university’s tram stop, both of them walked into the spacious dome in the heart of the university. To say it was still early in the morning it was fairly busy, mainly due to the majority of the classes and lectures taking place early in the day to avoid the heat of the midday sun making the building’s internal temperature soar.
“So…tea?” Ostin tilted his head to gesture towards the circular cafe counter in the centre of the dome.
“Do you know if they have gunpowder tea?” Mixy asked.
Ostin stopped dead in his tracks “Gunwhatnowtea?”
Mixy sucked her lips in, if Ostin found out what gunpowder tea was, and more importantly how refined and expensive it could be, the chances are he’d suddenly realise how posh her family background actually was.
Ostin stared at the large blackboard at the start of the queue “It simply says ‘Tea’. I can ask-“
“NO!” Mixy quickly lifted up a forehoof as Ostin turned his head back to look at her, unfortunately wedging it firmly in his mouth, taking him by surprise “Um, I mean, why go to all that trouble. Tea’s tea after all” She shrugged, averting her gaze. She looked back at Ostin, hoping her words, and her slightly unintentional hoof, were enough to pacify his curiosity “Is something wrong?”
Ostin pulled her forehoof from his mouth “You’re hoof polish tastes awful!”
Mixy stood by one of the tall potted trees in the dome, patiently waiting as she watched Ostin ordering tea for two from the crowded, circular counter. Occasionally she would see him scratching at his tongue, still trying to get the taste of her hoof polish out of his mouth, raising a few concerned eyebrows from the counter staff.
Relaxing slightly, she began to let her mind wander as she looked up the stained glass and iron girder structure of the dome, focusing on the lead lining that joined all the individuals pieces of coloured glass together, how it all linked together like a giant metal spiderweb suspended in the sky. As the sun started to creep higher into the sky she then started to focus on the different hues being cast onto the speckled white marble floor, the shadows cast the branches and leaves from the potted trees creating a weird assortment of shapes like shadow puppets. Already the artist inside of her was putting together the idea for a new piece. But how to produce it? Oil paints, watercolours…
“Mixy?”
Mixy snapped out of her day dream to find Ostin stood in front of her. He handed her a simple takeaway style cup.
“What’s this?” Mixy was surprised.
“…tea” Ostin replied, rather bluntly.
Mixy sat down on the polished marble floor, fiddling with the flimsy plastic lid with a forehoof. She was expecting a china teacup, or at the very least a large mug. She was fairly certain thats what regular ponies drank their tea out of. Prising it off, she was in fact quite surprised to find that it was indeed filled with tea. Quite a strong brew at that.
“Is something wrong” Ostin asked, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.
Mixy suddenly became aware of how odd she must be appearing to him.
She let out a nervous laugh as she slammed the lid back on the cup “Nope, nothing at all. Totally normal. Let’s try find a table!”
She trotted off, a rather awkward smile stretched across her face. Ostin lingered behind for a few seconds. Perhaps that knock to the head had done more damage than he thought. He gingerly followed after her.
Finding an empty table for two next to a shady potted tree on the edge of circular cafe, Mixy set down her tea.
Ostin joined her as she pulled up her chair “You’re sure you’re ok?”
“Never better” Mixy nervously lied, resting her head in her forehooves as she stared at Ostin.
“Ok, if you’re sure…” Ostin still had his doubts, taking a big slurp from his cup in one last effort to wash away the last of the hoof polish taste from his mouth, slightly burning his tongue in the process.
Mixy continued to stare at him rather blankly at he as he almost threw his cup down on the table, frantically scratching at his tongue in a comic fashion to try and get rid of the sandpaper effect. She started to think things over in her mind. She was fairly certain that Ostin was going to find out about her background sooner or later, no matter how many times she tried to simply brush it over. Perhaps it would be better to simply place all her cards on the table as she’d heard her father say a few times before in a business sense. From the little amount of time she’d spent with Ostin she was fairly certain the news wouldn't affect their relationship...hardly, anyway.
“Ostin, there’s-“
“Oh no” Ostin’s pupils shrunk slightly as he stopped scratching his tongue.
“What is it?”
“Over there, the stallion walking this way”
Mixy looked amongst the ponies pottering about the entrance to the dome “You mean the cream coloured one with the golden mane in the white scarf? What about him?”
Ostin quickly looked round, reaching into a leaflet stand for the student run clinic and plucking out the first one that came to hoof “Maybe he won’t notice if we don’t make eye contact”
It was unfortunate for Ostin that Mixy happened to know the pony in question as well.
Quaver started to unfasten his scarf as he walked right up to them both “Good morning, Miss Media. I’d didn’t realise you knew young Ostin here” he looked towards Ostin “I trust you’ve no silk robes to slip up on on your first day of university like you did in the opera house?” he chuckled slightly at his own joke.
Ostin’s eyebrows dropped in annoyance, though Mixy was trying not to giggle from behind one of her forehooves.
Quaver turned back to look at her “I trust your parents are well?”
“They’re as well as can be, thank you” Mixy replied, politely.
“You can inform your father that the redecoration to his private box in the auditorium has been finished, just this morning actually”
Mixy winced, noticing Ostin’s ears prick up at this piece of information, hoping he wouldn’t question it “I’ll…tell him. I’m sure he’ll be in touch with the managers”
Quaver checked his wristwatch “Nice to see you’re quite punctual Ostin. Wouldn’t want to be late for your first lecture from me, would you?”
“Your lecture?” Ostin looked up as he was about to take another sip from his cup.
“Yes Ostin, I’m the lecturer for music history in the department here. Just because you’re spending one day away from the opera house doesn’t mean that I won’t know what you’re getting up to”
The tiny cogs in Ostin’s brain slowly began to whir into place as he realised his one day off from the theatre wasn’t really a day off after all.
Quaver started to move off, but suddenly stalled “Oh, I know I shouldn’t really be passing on my own judgement, given that I’m your tutor in the eyes of the law, but don’t worry about it, it can happen to anypony” he jabbed at the front of the leaflet with a forehoof “See you in the lecture hall, Ostin”
And with that, Quaver trotted away. Ostin looked at the cover, it read ‘So you think you’re incontinent’ in large, friendly letters on the cover. Mixy just gave him a smug smile in return, turning into laughter as Ostin hurriedly tried to stuff the leaflet back into its holder whilst failing at trying to do it unnoticed.
“So” Ostin changed the subject as he rubbed his forehooves down his sweater vest, as if wiping away some germs he’d picked up from the leaflet “How do your parents know Quaver?”
“Oh, you know how it is” Mixy was trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t reveal how upper class her parents were as her cheeks began to turn red “Old ponies all knowing each other…”
“Yeah…” Ostin trailed off as he reminisced slightly at the thought of how his uncle seemed to know every pony in their small town and how to exploit them, and likewise how they all knew him and tried to avoid him like the plague.
For a brief moment they sat in silence together.
The giant clock suspended in the centre of the dome chimed the hour with a low, resonating ‘bong’, shattering the moment. Mixy almost sprang into life at the sound, leaping up onto all four hooves from the table.
“Well, I’d best be off” The awkward looking smile appeared on her face again as she snatched up her three quarter full cup of tea sharply, causing Ostin to flinch back slightly “Mustn’t be late for life drawing, the models hate it when you arrive late!”
Widening her awkward smile to a nightmare haunting point one last time, she trotted away from the table, breaking out into a gallop as she left the cafe.
“…I…ok…” Ostin sat there dumbfounded for a few minutes, before also making his way to his lecture in another part of the university, but at a slightly slower pace.
As she galloped through the narrow maze of corridors that formed the art department, Mixy ran through what she could remember of the morning’s events over in her head one last time. She hadn’t managed to tell Ostin about the exact details of her background as she’d initially hoped, but the more she thought about, the more it seemed like better idea not to tell him.
Though truthfully, deep down, she knew it would come out sooner or later. She just had to wait till the time was right to tell him.
Once again, the giant clock suspended at the top of the dome chimed the hour, signalling midday to the inhabitants of the university. At the edge of the dome, nearest the long corridor that lead to the main entrance stood Mixy, now on a short tea break. She rocked back and forth on her hooves as she waited…and waited. Then, amongst the ponies milling around to and fro, she spotted him.
“Ostin!”
Amongst the ponies walking towards her, Ostin’s ears clearly pricked up at the sound of his name above the rest.
He trotted over to Mixy “I didn’t expect to see you again before I left"
“Tea break” Mixy explained.
“Ah…” Ostin trailed off, looking away.
“What is it?”
“Well, there’s one thing that’s been nagging me all morning”
“And that is?” Mixy tilted her head slightly.
“You said earlier that we were in a taxi carriage”
“…Yes…” Mixy didn’t like the sound of where this was going.
“Then how come your father’s butler was pulling it?”
Mixy began to panic, trying to think of any way to shut Ostin up as the endless spew of words began to pour out of his mouth.
“Seems a little odd that a taxi company wouldn’t send one of its own drivers to-“
Thinking fast she simply kissed him on the cheek, leaving a very faint lipstick mark.
Instantly Ostin stopped talking, becoming still.
“I’ll see you soon” Smiling at him one last time, Mixy trotted off back into one of the many corridors that branched off from the dome.
A few seconds later, just like the last time she kissed him, a stupid goofy smile began to spread across Ostin’s face as his stomach felt like it was doing continuous somersaults.
He practically skipped all the way to the tram stop.
Ostin practically leaped through the door of the narrow terrace house, discarding his saddlebag by the door as he bounced down the hallway towards the rear of the house. Springing into the kitchen, he found Sandy sat at the table with a small sewing box, almost going crosseyed as she attempted to thread a needle. Tonnage, as per usual, was quietly reading through one of his seemingly endless supply of newspapers, a gigantic two pint sized mug in one of his forehooves.
Sandy looked up from her needle threading “You’ve got a spring in your step this evening”
Ostin just snickered slightly in his giddy state, sitting down at the table and pulling the teapot towards himself, preparing to pour himself a cupful.
“Honestly Ostin” Sandy levitated a damp cloth from the kitchen sink and started to scrub away the lipstick mark on his cheek “For how much of a fuss you made this morning, you’re doing a terrible job of keeping this mystery mare of yours a secret!”
Ostin’s eyebrows dropped down as he almost instantly snapped out of his lovesick state. He hated this conversation, although he knew it was an inevitable subject. He just wished he could put it off for a while longer.
“Actually, perhaps it would be better if I went and sorted out my notes…” Ostin pushed the teapot away and started to make a move back towards the hallway”
“Oh no, Ostin” Ostin suddenly felt Sandy grabbing his tail with her magic and pulling him back along the slippy tiled kitchen floor, back into the chair at the table “We’re getting this sorted, right now”
Ostin face planted the table, letting out an annoyed groan.
Sandy continued trying to thread the needle, succeeding in just one go “Now, I promise you, whoever’s name it is it won’t leave my lips outside the four walls of this house. And it’s not as if Tonnage is likely to say anything, he’s hardly the most talkative pony there is!”
Tonnage briefly looked up from behind his paper disapprovingly.
“So, what’s her name then?” Sandy pressed Ostin, pouring him a cup of tea herself.
Ostin faintly mumbled something, his face still firmly planted on the table.
“What was that? You’re not going anywhere until I hear a name” Sandy gently tugged on his tail with her magic through the bars at the back of the chair, just to emphasise this.
Ostin let out a heavy sigh as he lifted his head “Mixed Media”
Tonnage spat out his tea violently.
“Tonnage, please!” throwing down her needle and thread Sandy stood on her hind hooves on her chair, bringing herself up to his eye level so she could attempt to try and bear down on him “Do you know how long I spent mopping this floor this morning!”
Tonnage simply handed her the paper, folding it shut so that she could read the front page.
Almost snatching it from him, Sandy’s eyes quickly scanned it as she sat back down. She readjusted the horn-rimmed glasses on the end of her nose “What? What am I supposed to be looking at?”
Tonnage jabbed with his hoof at something on the page, which Sandy then focused on, suddenly drawing back and going as wide eyed as Tonnage. They both exchanged a nervous look with each other.
“What?” Ostin asked innocently.
Sandy looked back at Tonnage worryingly, he silently nodded at her. She sent the paper gliding along the table towards Ostin with a simple flick of her wrist. It landed perfectly square in front of him. There, in the bottom right hand quarter of the front was a small black and white photograph, accompanied with a caption. He didn’t bother to read it, skimming over the words.
Two tall and incredibly thin ponies dominated the photograph. The stallion, wearing a highly tailored suit, a silk cumber band, bowtie and top hat stared down his nose towards the camera, a look of disgust plastered across his face. A large glass of brandy appeared to be firmly rooted in one of his forehooves. The mare beside him wasn’t looking at the camera, almost as if in an attempt to try to hide and signs of age her face may show. A slight blur in the photograph showed that she would have been flicking her curled mane at the moment it was taken. A giant jewel, roughly a quarter of the size of a fully grown ponies head hung from around her neck on a chain, some of the loops also having containing smaller gems within them. A smaller, slightly plumper pony sat beside them in a silk dress, and ornate dragon pattern stretching down the back. The top of her black mane curled back round towards her grey coated ears. The expression on her face showed she had been caught off guard, clearly in conversation with another pony behind the other two. She was clearly being polite by trying to enjoy the occasion, but couldn’t quite hide an underlying discomfort at the situation.
It was Mixy.
He quickly looked back at the caption: ‘EXCLUSIVE: Photographs from the gala event at Spyglass Manor. Family members in attendance!’
It suddenly dawned on Ostin just who she was.
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Worth the wait!
Heh, knowing your art style, makes me wish you could just do the whole story in comic form, even though I know that'd be an impossibly demanding task that even I wouldn't want to personally undertake.
Ditto what captainblackmane said, it was worth the wait, even worth going back and rereading the last chapter so I could have all the finer details fresh in mind, and it's especially good to see Mixy and Ostin interacting on a regular basis now. You've kept the characters very nicely balanced, helped by the fact that both have equal chance to embarrass themselves in front of the other. Kind of keeps them both humble and on the same level.
6675372
Rather amusingly, at one point I did actually think about doing just that! The problem however, particularly with earlier chapters, is that a script would be far too descriptive, with hardly any dialogue, meaning there would be large sections which would unfortunately like a picture book!
That, and having done detailed full page illustrations for books before (A3 landscape sized) they can take at least one week to produce (Blank page to full finished image) and that's not even bringing in directorial skills required for comic book illustration, so that'd drain all the living energy out of me.
6688454
Hey, I would've been all for large sections looking like a picture book, as the descriptive parts of the story are some of my favorite parts. Really gives you an excellent feel for the terrain. And I've said it before, but it successfully makes me long for the sadly brief time I was in the UK myself, sightseeing, and all that came with it. Makes me want to go back.
...but yes. Telling it in comic form really would be too massive an undertaking for one fellow. The fanfic really is the more practical way to go.
Fortunately, it's just as enjoyable in fanfic form too.
Loving this way too much
6941834
Must admit, it amuses me that it's taken almost two years for anyone to get the reference, or write about it, at least...