• Published 26th Jul 2015
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The Things Tavi Says - shortskirtsandexplosions



Let me tell you a few things about my roommate, Octavia. After all, she saved my life.

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Comforting Things

Author's Note:

The door to the apartment opens, and Scribbler's there.

She looks up... sees me... and leaps.

The bruises on my body still hurt. I know this now. I wince fitfully into a sea of orange and fuzz.

"Whoops...!" Bon Bon grimaces, reaching in over my wheelchair. "Yes yes, Mommy's home. Well, one of them, anyway. Doesn't mean you gotta go crazy."

I raise a hoof to block her, still wincing. No. It's okay. Let her be crazy.

"Ehhh... I think Vine's okay, Bon Bon," Lyra says, moving me and the chair indoors. I hug Scribbler's black-and-white body the whole time, weathering her golden mewls. The smell of this place overwhelms me. I never thought a scent—of all senses—could do that. "If Vinyl wasn't having none of it, she'd float Scribbler away on her own."

"Is that true, Vine?"

"Pfft... of course it's true!" Lyra muses, trotting across the foyer and raising the curtains to let the light in. "I toss you off me every night when you're asleep!"

"Ugh! Not this again! Lyra, I do not toss and turn."

"Like a friggin' sideways tornado! Hah!" Lyra winks at me as she trots on by. "I've considered wearing hoofball gear to bed."

I'm listening to her, but I'm not looking. In a cold sweat, my eyes scan the edges of the kitchen until I find Scribbler's food dish. To my surprise, it's still partially full.

"It's alright, Vinyl," Bon Bon says, as if reading my mind. She trots in until I see her smiling face entirely. "Scribbler's been fully taken care of these last few days."

I raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

Bon Bon giggles slightly. "Rarity still has Octavia's keys. At least... that's what Fluttershy said. She and Rarity have been taking turns doing cat duty."

I blink at that. Adjusting my shades, I gaze into the distant hallway. Scribbler's litter box is in full view, and the thing is nearly empty.

"Now don't you feel bad or anything," Bon Bon says, pointing. "From what Fluttershy said, it was their absolute pleasure to look after the lil' kitty while you two were recuperating."

"Heh... yeah..." Lyra's voice rolls across the foyer. "All of Twilight's Council have been practically gushing over you and Tavi since the incident. After all, you girls are what made the Gala so spectacular in the end!"

"And we know!" Bon Bon grins wide. "We were there!"

I nod, pet Scribbler a few more times, then gently let her down onto the floor.

"Don't worry, Vine. We'll get Scribbler her evening meal," Lyra says. "How about you go into Tavi's room and grab some stuff, y'know? Stuff that'll make her feel at home for the next week or so she's at Ponyville Central?"

Bon Bon hums, "Some mane conditioner... lotion... a fluffy bathrobe..."

"She's not staying a friggin' resort hotel, Bon Bon."

"Hey, I thought the idea was to make Tavi feel comfortable!"

"With a full set of bath products?! Unless Aloe and Lotus have become doctors, I don't see how that's—"

I leave the couple to be... a couple. With a pulse of magic, I roll my wheelchair into the next part of the apartment, out of earshot.

I gulp.

"Go into Tavi's room," she says...

I've barely ever been in here.

Rule Number One of being a Roommate is knowing what's holy.

Rule Number One of being a best friend...

I flick on a light and linger in the entrance to Tavi's domain. A melancholic sigh exits my nostrils, cold and magenta and gone.

...is knowing how to share the praise and worship.

Tavi's room is every bit as elegant and refined as she is, full of flowy, velvet, burgundy things. I can't tell where her carpet ends and her bed begins. Is she so in love with red wine that she must sleep in the stuff?

I'm not one to criticize. Especially not Tavi. It's just that... everything is so spotless. Literally. There's hardly a speck of dust on the curtains—and they are thick curtains too. It's strange to think that she must hate the daylight as much as I do. It's even stranger to think that she made up her bed and her room so immaculately before attending something as important as the Friendship Gala... almost as if something deep inside the native Trottinghamite knew that she... that she might not have...

I shudder. With another pulse of magic, I roll forward, gazing at her dresser, her vanity. A pale unicorn in shades drifts past the mirror... and then I see her again. Me... posing next to Octavia and Lyra and Bon Bon. The four of us are standing outside the entrance to Town Hall the night before the Summer Sun Celebration over a year ago. We look happy and peaceful, unaware of the brief chaos that was to follow within minutes of that photo being taken... when Nightmare Moon made her return.

I can only guess that Tavi keeps this because she adores the moment far more than the followup. Or perhaps it's that Tavi—like me—appreciates the past.

No...

That's not the case...

She doesn't obsess over the past...

Not like... like...

With a mute groan, I stand up. It hurts to walk on my hooves. Talonsmith's punches really did a number on me. Nevertheless, I trot over to her bed—almost afraid I'll collapse on it. Instead, I look at the absurd collection of pillows piled up on one side of the mattress. I suddenly imagine that Tavi never bothers uncovering her duvet at all. She just... curls up on the pillows like a big fuzzy cat and calls it a night. If only I had memorized what her favorite cushion looks like. I'd hate to return to the hospital with a fluffy imposter inside my grasp.

Oh, whom am I kidding? It's the gesture that counts.

A pillow...

Some of Tavi's favorite books...

And—screw it—maybe one of her robes too. Bon Bon's right. Tavi loves to look and feel delicate. It's the righteous habit belonging to angels and angels alone.

Reaching out, I test one pillow, then another. I'm about to touch a third when—th-thap—Scribbler once more appears. She pads across the bed, at muzzle-level with me. Her whiskers flux as the kitten mewls once again.

I stifle a sigh, teetering a bit from the breathy gesture.

I reach out, grasping Scribbler and preparing to place her on the floor...

...when I stop. For now is the time when I realize that I have become Tavi.

In this place—in this domain—I have assumed her spirit. Tiny, delicate, wistful... and with the source of all orange mirth in my grasp.

Comfort.

Tavi is comfort... and I don't know if I can bring that to her at the hospital, no matter what I bag.

I don't know if I can bring her enough comfort at all.

But she definitely gives it to me... just by being here... the beacon of purple and orange serenity that is sorely lacking. And here I stand in the hollow of what this place once was... what it should be...

And oh how close we got to it being bereft of those colors altogether.

Right now... the bed and the pillows—they practically sing with the trace echoes of what makes everything so beautiful.

It's enough to bring me to my knees. Instead, I lean forward, surrending to the bed, hugging Scribbler close. Her orange purrs bring out the best and worst in me at once. I close my eyes, shuddering as the sobs come out, quiet and subdued—as much as I can afford.

The magenta is a poor, poor substitute.

I won't take long. I promise, Tavi.

I won't take long at all...

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