Phrase
Silence: a once pristine haven abreast a sea of chaos and noise had, as of late, taken a far more foreboding and unnerving tone. It had been months since Octavia last had the apartment all to herself for such a stretch of time. But what was once a welcome fantasy served only to remind her of her foolish mistake. Yet, the silence did not care; it just hung in the air over her head like a vulture circling its prey.
Again, her borderline obsession (well, at least compared to her roommate) with cleanliness had caused a fiasco that she was responsible for. It was no wonder why Vinyl was so upset: she had thrown away a personal possession with reckless disregard for any possible value it had – sentimental or otherwise. If she could, she would have apologized in an instant, but the disk jockey’s absence prevented it.
Octavia mulled over the situation on the couch as the evening’s scheduled fog pressed against the glass. She swirled the wine she held in her hoof, then sipped it in order to stave off a creeping chill. She had kept the wine bottle in a cabinet hidden behind the trash can just to stop Vinyl from drinking it all. As a result, the wine was warm and the bottle smelled of refuse. Somehow, the scent and taste came together to paint a picture of her roommate lying in a ditch somewhere blind drunk.
Normally, she would not care what kind of… happenstance the unicorn got involved in, so long as she herself was left out of the picture or the aftermath. This time, however, she knew she was the catalyst for anything that might happen to her. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being responsible for the most reckless, blasé and disgusting mare she ever knew. If she had the authority to assume, she imagined it would be almost as bad as being responsible for a war or the destruction of Manehattan.
How much of this dreary mood is the weather, and how much of it is guilt? Octavia mused as she took another light sip. It has been only a day and a half since Vinyl had her little temper tantrum. I can see her being upset for a few hours or so, but this? She sighed to herself as the memory played out in her head once more. Never had she seen such raw, unbridled emotion in the cool and unflappable unicorn.
Vinyl had always struck her as a private pony, despite her extremely forward attitude – more than once had she suggested they do some rather... lewd things together. Any time the subject of family or friends came up, she would list celebrities she had met and partied with and said they were like family to her. Of course, Octavia knew better, so she had never brought the issue up. However, her recent outburst gave her pause, so now she pondered the possibility that, perhaps, Vinyl Scratch was not close to anypony at all.
Could it be that the extroverted, loud and pretentious mare was actually a lonely, shy filly on the inside? Could she, Octavia Melody, be the closest thing that mare has known to a real friend!? The thought alone made her significantly more tolerable, but it also brought up far too many questions than she wanted to deal with and she did not want to hunt her down. Of course, Vinyl would get hungry and run out of money sooner or later and come back, so she could just wait for her. After all, it was none of Octavia’s business just what troubles the mare would find.
Still... she was a little worried about her because she was a mare in need. Not like she liked the rambunctious cretin or anything. Yet, she was not going to just stand by and watch as Vinyl destroyed herself while knowing full well she could have stopped it. However, she knew how stubborn that unicorn could be, so she would probably need more on her side than guilt and an earnest apology.
Perhaps a couple of those annoying ponies in the pictures on the door could be of some use? If she explained her plight to them, they might commiserate and assist in tracking Vinyl down and possibly serve as backup should the unicorn reject her. The only flaw in her plan, however, was that she knew none of their phone numbers. Vinyl kept her address book somewhere in her room, or as Octavia named it, “The Void”. It would be a venture fit for the Daring Do novels, but if she wanted the burden of guilt lifted, it needed to be done!
She sighed and gulped down the remainder of her wine. There was no point in delaying and losing her resolve once the fantasies of dirty laundry and half-eaten, moldy bagels bobbed to the surface. Oh great, there they are, she thought as the mere anticipation summoned them. Octavia forced herself off the couch with a groan, already dreading her decision. But, as her father would say: she had “made a choice and now she had to stay the course”.
The end of the hall came far sooner than she had expected, throwing her off just a little when she noticed the smiling faces of intoxicated ponies beaming at her from the pictures. Never before had she been inside, but she had managed to steal a peek once, and it was enough to make Vinyl put up that curtain on the inside of it. She stared down the door, as if her gaze would be enough to make it move, almost hoping it would so she would not have to actually touch it.
Swallowing trepidation, she slowly reached her hoof up to the door knob. Please be locked. Please be locked! she silently pleaded to Celestia. However, as her hoof touched the cold brass, she found that it gave way easily to the pressure put on it, clicking and swinging open a fraction of an inch. “Drat. Now I HAVE to follow through,” she moaned to herself. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and cast the curtain aside. An audible gasp left her muzzle as she beheld the sight in front of her.
Boxes of records sat on a narrow shelf on the opposite wall, three boxes per level. The white carpeted floor was absolutely spotless, save a few stains that Octavia decided she’d rather not know about. A desk sat opposite of the end of the bed, littered with papers and the occasional wire here or there; messy but with a hint of organization to it. The grey mare stepped beyond the threshold, bracing herself as if there were some spell in place that would fail the instant she trespassed.
Yet everything stayed as it was, including the impeccably made bed. Looking at it closer, Octavia wished she could keep the sheets that crisp. She almost envied the unicorn before she reminded herself that Vinyl could use magic to get them that precise. “I must be losing my mind,” she spoke aloud to herself. “There is no way that she can be any sort of clean!” It took her a moment to regain herself, to which she laughed and said, “The shock of the mess must have sent me into delirium.” Satisfied with her own answer, she pushed on deeper into the unknown.
Since there was a phone sitting on the desk, it stood to reason that her address book had to be in one of the drawers. Curiously picking up one of the papers with her hooves, she could see numbers and several different peculiar shapes: a schematic for something box-shaped. Unable to read blueprints, Octavia had no idea what it was. Scrawling chicken scratch next to the neat typeface boasting that the device was “awesome” made it undeniable that the unicorn had somehow drawn them.
“What on Celestia’s green Earth is a ‘Bass Cannon’?” Octavia mused to herself before casting the blueprints aside. Whatever it was, it was of no consequence to her... at least she hoped so. Pulling out the drawers of the desk, she found herself confronted by a rat’s nest of wires, and other arcane electronic stuff she figured was used to repair her speakers or turntable. She probably stored them in a closet or something of the sort since she did not see them lying around.
Digging through the contents of the drawers, the mare found all manner of various electronic bits in one drawer and piles of drawings and other blueprints in the one below that. On the other side of the desk, there was a drawer filled with tools, including a blow torch. However, in the drawer below that, she found what had to be her goal: books, portfolios and other papers.
Starting from the top, she worked her way down the pile, finding books filled with mathematical equations that made her head spin, dirty magazines (Octavia made note to throw those out later), a Daring Do and, curiously, several books by Burning Jewels. But, it was a little black book at the very bottom of the pile that immediately grasped her attention and refused to let go. Carefully extracting it from the depths, she laid it flat upon a little area of the desk she had cleared and opened it.
Inside the book were the names, addresses and phone numbers of hundreds of ponies, all written out in the horrid scrawl that Vinyl passed as writing. However, there was a heavy use of symbolism beside each name. A very few had stars, others had ampersands, while others still had various combinations of other signs and some had none at all! Octavia’s mind immediately dwelt on a rating system of some kind: perhaps some were work contacts or possible employers?
It did not matter though: she had to try and find some names that she could recognize. Looking through the list, a few names popped up, most notably Pinkie Pie, an Element of Harmony! However, the entry that stood out first and foremost in her mind, as soon as she saw it, was one marked by a star, reading ‘Mom and Dad.’
The perfect opportunity presented itself to her! For one, she could figure out what made those stupid sunglasses mean so much to her in the first place and at the same time, she could receive her parents’ support in her aim to get Vinyl out of the liquor-laced gutter. Deciding not to waste any more time, she picked up the phone, double checked the number in the book and dialed.
She smiled with self-satisfaction as the phone rang on the other end. If all went according to her expectations, the whole matter could be cleared up before dinner! As soon as the thought came across, however, it was pushed out by the matter at hoof as a low, regal voice crooned over the line. “Hello. This is the residence of Lord Ebony Tune and Lady Ivory Song. How might I be of service?”
At first, she thought she had dialed the wrong number since there was no way Vinyl could be associated with such a powerful couple of nobles as Ebony and Ivory. Of course, there was the possibility that her parents were servants since, in her own experience, the hired hooves’ dormitories shared the same number as the house itself. “Uh, yes,” she replied, remembering there was a pony on the line. “I am looking for the parents of one Vinyl Scratch. I am afraid it is a matter of some urgency, so it would be most appreciated if you could get them right away.”
“I am sorry,” the stallion replied, “but Lord Ebony and Lady Ivory are currently on a trip around the world on their yacht and are not due back for some months. Will the matter still be of urgency then?”
“Um... no,” she replied, wondering just how daft the pony could be. “I am not looking to speak with their lordships. I am looking to converse with the parents of a mare named VINYL SCRATCH,” she enunciated clearly since the stallion did not seem to understand. “She’s a disk jockey living with me in an apartment in Canterlot.” There was silence on the line for a couple of tense moments, the noble mare hoping the servant finally understood.
“I apologize, but am I speaking to Lady Octavia?”
“Yes, you are,” she replied after taking a moment to reel herself back from the identification.
“It makes sense that you would not know. Miss Vinyl is not very comfortable having ponies aware of her parentage since she does not like the aristocracy in general. Rest assured though that Lord Ebony and Lady Ivory are her birth parents. I would like to go into more detail, but I am being called to attend to a matter. I am sorry that I could be of no help, but I will contact them as soon as possible. What is it that you wanted to ask?”
“Oh, well... By the time they get back, it will... hopefully be resolved, so no. I am afraid that I have nothing to say,” she answered automatically as something inside her brain broke.
“Very well then, have a good evening, milady.”
“Good evening.”
With that, there was a flat tone on the line as the stallion hung up. It had to be a prank or some sort of joke that had been set up by Vinyl in case Octavia called the number. She would not put it beyond her to try and convince the butler to play along with her mean little prank. But on the other hoof, proper butlers (she assumed, since it was custom that only the butler would answer the house phone) did not bend to that sort of whim.
Even if he is telling the truth, it does not change a thing now does it? Octavia thought to herself as she hung up the receiver. I can’t talk to her parents because they are away, so regardless, they can not help me. So, who do I turn to now? She turned her attention back towards the address book lying on the desk in front of her. There had to be a clue to tell which ponies Vinyl actually cared about.
Noticing how few ponies had a star beside their numbers (of which her parents were among), the grey pony decided that she would work her way down the list and gather either information she would need or their support in her search. Turning back to the first page, she flipped through the little black book until she came across the first name bearing the rare star. “Berry Punch?” Octavia mused as she read the name aloud. She had heard it before, but she could not quite put her hoof on where.
Regardless of whether she knew of the pony or not, they were still possibly a friend or relative of Vinyl, so it was good enough for her. Looking down at her number and address, she saw that the mysterious mare was a resident of Ponyville, which cemented in her mind that they had not met before. Therefore, it was likely she had heard of her via the absent unicorn, either during one of her drunken appraisals of a party or show, or at some other point where Octavia decided to ignore her but she kept talking.
She picked up the receiver once more and dialed the number in the book, hoping her assumption was correct and that she had not accidentally called a rival or (another) annoyance. Seventeen rings had sounded on the other line and just as she was about to hang up to try again the next morning, a droning, yet still feminine voice responded on the other end. “Y’ello?” the mare groaned, as if she were ill.
“Good evening. Am I speaking to a miss Berry Punch?” Octavia asked.
“This is her speaking, what can I DO you for?” The mare slurred.
“... Charming. Do you know a pony by the name of Vinyl Scratch? If so, how would you gauge your relationship with her?”
“Vinyl?” the other mare replied, perking up in the tone of her voice. “We’re the best of drinking buddies anypony could find! Heck, once she managed to drink me under the table!” A soft peal of giggling shot out of the ear piece as she probably regarded the no doubt hazy memory. “Can I ask why you’re calling? Although maybe I should ask who you are first? I get that mixed up a lot”
“I bet you do… um. My name is Octavia Melody and I am her present roommate. I am calling because...” she swallowed, bracing herself for the proverbial impact. “Because I accidentally destroyed her sunglasses and then, foolishly I might add, threw them out. I was wondering if you could tell me why they are so important to her, or help me find her so that I can properly apologize.”
“No way...” Berry spoke, sounding awestruck. “You broke her SHADES!? Man, that’s like kicking a stallion where the sun don’t shine to Vee.”
“Mama? Can I have my bedtime story now?” spoke a filly on the other end of the line.
“Listen, I have to go now,” Berry spoke after. “If you want to know why those sunglasses mean so much to her, why don’t you come down to Ponyville and have a drink with me? Actually… I can invite the whole gang down! It’ll be great since we haven’t seen all of each other in a month or so! Oh this will be fantastic!”
Panic began to shoot through her system at the possibility of being surrounded by hoodlums. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea! I mean, I doubt they can all drop everything and I was hoping for something a little more intimate than a crowd of strangers!” Octavia said rather quickly.
“Oh-la-la. No wonder why Vinyl likes you,” Berry replied in a tone that made the respectable mare a little uncomfortable. “There are only five of us. You have Vinyl’s number book, right? We’re all with those little stars and only one is a stallion and only one mare is a Fillyfooler and she’s spoken for, so you have no worries, Octy! I think we’re all off and can come by, like, three in the afternoon, day after tomorrow? I’ll meet you at the train station in Ponyville. See you then!”
“Wait a moment, who said I was coming down to Ponyville to meet with-” However, before she could finish her sentence, there was a dead tone. She had hung up on her, and quite rudely at that. “Congratulations, Octavia. The day after tomorrow you are meeting with five of Vinyl’s friends ALL AT ONCE in a dinky little whistle stop town!” Rather than be aggravated further, Octavia took a deep breath and decided to not worry about it. If they were Vinyl’s friends, they probably would not risk her ire by upsetting her roommate. Maybe.
She took another breath and picked up the address book in her teeth. All of the was stressing her out and she only knew one way to really relax. As she walked out of the room and over to her waiting Cello, she reminded herself that while Vinyl could sometimes be foalish, she could take care of herself and probably would not associate with ponies as bad as she imagined. Hopefully.
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
Her mind had been wandering all day. That is to say, her mind had been running around the same problem all day and it was becoming most tiresome. Even her playing was beginning to suffer because of the conundrum eating away at the back of her mind. She hoped none of her ensemble had noticed.
Octavia walked down the street at a rather slow clip as she had to balance her instrument upon her back. It was not an easy task, especially when said instrument was roughly the size of her body, but at least it was not as awkward as her friend’s instrument. Beside her, stumbling occasionally on the cobblestones was a sky blue mare with a brown, curly mane and tail who wore a pink bowtie very similar to her own. She did not really pay attention to her, since she was always a little accident prone; however, as they passed their favourite cafe, something unexpected happened.
“Say... Octavia? Do you think there is something bothering Frederick?” The mare paused in mid-step, looking back at her friend with widened eyes. While it was a rare pleasure to hear the sousaphonist talk, it was quite something else for her to start a conversation. She was the obverse of Vinyl Scratch, when she really thought about it.
“No, I never noticed anything amiss with him. Why do you ask, Beauty Brass?” she replied, blinking as she caught up.
“No reason. It’s just that he was a little overbearing and more of a perfectionist than usual. Is there... something going on between you two?”
“What!?” Octavia gasped incredulously. She could feel a blush developing on her face, not for having been found out, but for such a wild accusation that was in no possible way true. Frederick was her friend, and no matter how dashing or courteous he was, that is what he would remain. However, a smile was beginning to form on her friend’s face. She needed to stomp out this rumour before her inaction validated anything!
Clearing her throat, she did her best to regain her poise and composure. “What makes you say that, I wonder?”
“Oh... Well...” she looked away and blushed. They continued walking in awkward silence as the question hung in the air like the Sword of Damocles over both of their heads. Moments like this made Octavia really frustrated that Beauty’s parents had been strong subscribers to the notion that foals were to be seen and not heard, for it was only making things more difficult than they needed to be.
“I uh...” she muttered after some minutes. “I noticed that you were... a little off with your playing today, Octavia. I mean, you were late for your cue on that coda five times in a row and you never normally make mistakes like that. Plus, Frederick was just as off as you today, I kind of thought something may have happened between you two and I apologize if I was just reading into something too deeply.”
“Well, you were reading too deep into things, but I accept your apology.” Having hopefully satisfied her curiosity, the two mares continued on their walking route home. Both were content to keep the silence, or so Octavia thought. As they neared their neighbourhood, Beauty Brass found her voice once more.
“So... If it isn’t Frederick, what has got you so distracted, Octavia? If you don’t wish to tell me, then... that is fine.”
That’s the second time she’s started a conversation, the other mare mused. Whatever it is must really be eating at her... Just like how that insipid Vinyl Scratch continues to gnaw at my mind like a woodchuck on wood. She sighed and decided that, perhaps it was best to get her feelings off of her chest to the one mare she felt comfortable confiding in.
“You recall that I have a roommate by the name of Vinyl Scratch, correct?”
“Mhm! You complain about her often enough that I should, anyway.”
“Yes, well...” Octavia trailed. “Um... Yesterday, I will admit that I did something quite careless. You see, she had left the apartment in a mess again and I was running late for rehearsal when I accidently broke something that was actually far more valuable to her than I had anticipated. I then had the brilliant idea to throw it in the garbage and when she found out she... Well... It was not very pleasant, let us leave it at that.”
“Oh... So that explains that black eye!” Beauty gasped in realization.
“Unfortunately,” she replied, turning her head away ever so slightly.
“You really should tell someone. I mean, it’s not a good thing when your roommate starts to physically abuse you! I think there’s a hotline for that.” She lifted her head to the sky, eyes losing focus as she tried to remember something, probably the number, which eluded her.
“What? No... No, it’s nothing like that, Beauty Brass. It’s just that I have not seen her since and... Well, I feel a little guilty for being so tactless. I’ve tried calling a couple of her friends, but... well... one of them wishes for me to go to Ponyville and meet all of them tomorrow so we can sort this out quickly. But…they seem… less than reliable, I would say.”
“What do you mean by ‘less than reliable’?”
“You know what kind of pony Vinyl Scratch is. They could all be alcoholics or drug addicts or something! The one pony who suggested this was slurring quite a bit last night, if that is any indication! I want to get my facts straight before I hunt that rambunctious mare down, but I don’t feel comfortable going and they want me there tomorrow afternoon!” She grumbled and applied a hoof to her face. “What am I going to do, Beauty?”
“Huh,” Beauty Brass mused as they turned a corner and walked down another street. “Well… I could go with you, Octavia. Going alone sounds dangerous and, if we need to, I… I know SOME self-defence; father’s idea and all.” She looked away from her friend and blushed as she spoke.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt any plans you might have, Beauty,” Octavia replied, genuinely afraid of inconveniencing one of her oldest friends. “Besides, I know how you are with strangers and I would not want to put you through any discomfort either.”
“Well…:” the sousaphonist started as they crossed a street, “It is a little bit of both but… well… I just want to make sure that you are safe and comfortable. I mean, I doubt that your roomate is friends with really bad or shady ponies, but… if it will help you make amends, which you seem like you really want to do… then I will be there for you.”
Octavia was surprised to hear all of this. She and Beauty Brass had been friends for years but never before had she stepped up to the plate and offered to do something, even if she did not want to, just for the sake of making her comfortable. That was not to say that she was a bad friend, but that she was very shy and out of her element when not among family or her close friends.
“Are… Are you quite sure, Beauty? They could be a rather loud and rambunctious lot, considering they are close to Vinyl.”
For her part, Beauty Brass took a deep, sighing breath and looked down at the pavement as they continued their journey home together. It was obvious to Octavia that the idea of going with her was one that she regretted bringing up, but the fact that she did not instantly accept her proclamations that she would be fine on her own? Though it was a quiet voice who spoke, the volume of what she was saying was loud and clear to the cellist: she wanted her to be safe above all else.
Finally, Beauty looked up from the pavement and into her eyes, gilded irises not even flinching when she spoke, “I’m sure, Octavia. I am going with you to Ponyville.” A high pitched squeak was the next thing to come out of her mouth as, all of a sudden, her friend wrapped her into a gentle and genuine hug.
“Thank you, Beauty Brass. It means a lot to me to hear that from you… From a friend I trust and whom trusts me in return.”
“N-not a problem, Octavia,” she replied, patting her gently on the back with her hoof. “Um… When are you leaving for Ponyville? I can meet you at the train station.”
“Oh, not until about two in the afternoon. That is when the drunk one said most of them get off work. I… hope that’s not too big of an inconvenience.”
“Nope!” her friend cheerfully replied. “See you then, Octavia.” With a smile and a wave of her hoof, Beauty Brass was on her way, down another road to her own apartment, leaving Octavia alone once again.
After a long and quiet walk through the streets of Canterlot, the grey cellist finally came to the threshold of the apartment door. With a subtle tap on the wooden edifice and a rather loud show of putting the keys into the locks, she opened the door and carefully stepped inside. “Vinyl?” she called out in vain hope her roomate had returned to play one of her video games or something.
Yet, there was no answer. Not even a creek of wood to give away her hiding. With a heaving sigh, Octavia wiggled out of her strap and mounted her cello upon the wall near the door. On the other end of the room, a blinking light caught her attention. It was their answering machine and there was a message on it. Was it Vinyl? Was she in trouble or something and needed bail money? All at once, she became overcome by worry and anxiety.
Pushing them aside, she trotted across the room and over to the phone to which the answering machine was beside. The display read one single unanswered phone call. With a press of her hoof there was a beep and a magical voice which said, “You have one message. Received at 10:36 am today.”
“Hello, Octavia,” spoke a very familiar voice. “This is Frederick. I uh… have a bit of news. I didn’t want to tell anypony about it during practice, because then we’d all get nervous and not play properly but.. well… we’ve got it! That’s right, the Manehattan Theatre wants us to perform as a warmup act for the Equestrian Symphony Orchestra in a few days! Travel and hotel expenses paid too! It’s going to be great! But… there is one thing. It’s happening four days from now, so they need our yea or neigh really quickly. Please get back to me as soon as you can. Talk to you later!”
Unbridled joy swept over Octavia like the tide over a sandy beach. This was going to be the opportunity of a lifetime! If this show went well, the disaster at the Gala would become a distant memory. Heck, maybe the symphony would be so impressed by her that they might ask her to join them! But just as fantasies of her being in the most prestigious orchestra in the nation came to her mind, so too did that stupid unicorn. What would she do if she came back to find nopony around? What if, by not being there, she just made her hurt friend even more upset? Vinyl could be gone for days at a time, but never more than five without notice.
Would she have to choose between performing in Manehattan… and Vinyl?
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
Outside the window, the overcast sky cast a pall of grey blandness that made the similarly coloured mare sleepy just looking at it. Vibrant green plants and the purple mountain of home alike were rendered lifeless husks under the gloom. At least in Canterlot they were usually above such blaise weather.
The train’s seat cushions were springy and uncomfortable, with the slightest bump in the tracks causing her pain as the springs poked into her flank. Everything in the car was either simple wooden paneling, or signs advertising different products amidst a sea of identical bench chairs. But worst of all was the music! The most mindless, soulless pop music imaginable practically blared over the loudspeaker, interrupted only by the conductor announcing stops or his rounds to check tickets.
“How can you be so chipper!?” Octavia demanded as she cast her gaze to the friend who sat beside her.
“Hmm?” Beauty Brass said, snapping out of a mild trance. “I’m sorry. I must have zoned out,” she giggled. “What was the question again?”
“Ugh. Nevermind,” the cellist groaned, applying a forehoof to her head in exasperation. “It’s just that you seem to be taking this so well. I’ve never had a more unpleasant experience with the trains! It figures that they’d put the bad ones with no privacy heading towards a town where everypony probably showers together! It figures that friends of Vinyl Scratch would live in Ponyville: they’re all probably related! Ugh! I hate the boondocks!”
“You sound like an elitist snot, Octavia.” Beauty gave it a little more thought. “Also, everypony can hear you being one.” Sure enough, when Octavia looked about the car, a lot of eyes were on her, most offended, but a couple amused. She blushed, then lowered her voice, wishing she could hide her face behind her hooves without looking like a foal.
“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. Celestia knows that I am grateful for you to be here, and I meant no offence. I just…I want to get this over with as soon as possible, but that is no excuse for being rude. Forgive me?”
A leg wrapped around her shoulders and pulled the grey mare into a gentle hug. “I forgive you,” Beauty said with a smile. “I know it’s hard for fancy nobles like you to travel with the common masses, but it’s not like we all smell. Just the odd ones who come out at night and wear bags for hats.”
Blushing even worse, Octavia pulled away once the hug was finished. “I’m not that noble. You know that.”
“But you are more privileged than most.”
“I can’t deny that,” she said softly with her eyes turning downcast to the floor. Since she had moved in with the DJ, moments like that, or rather “snotty moments” as Vinyl called them, had happened with less frequency over time. I suppose living with a more common pony does more for me than just make my life dirtier, she mused, successfully distracting herself from the petty annoyances of the train
“Hey, Octavia?” Beauty nudged her shoulder to gain her attention. “Octavia? We’re almost there!”
“Hmm?” she mumbled before looking up at her friend with mild annoyance at being prodded so forcefully.
“I said we’re pulling into the station now, Octavia. Let’s go!”
Sure enough, as soon as the words left her mouth, Octavia could feel the train grinding to a halt among a sea of thatched roof houses just outside the windows. “You do not need to tell me twice, Beauty,” she replied while standing up. “Let’s get this madness over with. Once and for all.”
As they stepped off the train and on to the platform, the two city mares found a quiet platform with a laid-back trainspotter sitting on the bench. The grey mare mused that this was what one would expect from a little town in the middle of nowhere. At least, it felt like the middle of nowhere, since Canterlot Castle itself was prominently visible from the train platform. It was amazing to Octavia that a place as … quaint, for want of a less offensive word, as this could exist so close to the cultural heart of the nation.
“So, do you have any idea what this pony looks like?” Beauty questioned after a moment of silence between them. That was when the bottom fell out of Octavia’s stomach. The pony had never told her what she looked like, or even asked how she could identify her! Would they have to go around this... town... questioning ponies!? Thankfully, the conundrum would quickly be resolved by an unexpected shout.
“Ahoy there!” called a lavender mare climbing up onto the platform. Her mane was a deeper shade of purple and relatively unkempt. When she drew closer, she sported a cutie mark of a strawberry and a grapevine. The mare’s smile was eerily similar to Vinyl’s. “My name is Berry Punch, and I take it one of you is Octavia?”
“Er.. Yes. That is me,” Octavia confessed, nervous about how close she was now getting to her face.
“Well, welcome to Ponyville! Any friend of Vinyl is a friend of mine. Who’s your buddy?”
“This is my friend, Beauty Brass, and she is rather timid around strangers. Also, I am not Viny-”
“A pleasure to meet you too,” she smiled, interrupting the cellist. “You’re a little early, but that’s okay. I told my friends where to meet us, so we can go straight there. Please, follow me!” Without allowing them even a word of protest, she cantered off. Octavia shuddered a little bit at being called a friend of Vinyl. They were roommates and nothing more. Still, she had to follow because she needed answers, and Celestia help her if she was responsible for the insane DJ
“So… Uh… Miss Punch?”
“Berry please, and yes?”
“What is it that you do for a living which allows you the time to greet us at the station so early in the afternoon?” she asked. That and I wonder if you have a criminal record as well, but that remains to be seen, she thought to herself.
“Oh, my family owns a winery not too far outside of town,” Berry replied.
I figured. She must get drunk off her own swill. Octavia pasted on a fake smile when she realized that Berry was not done talking.
“Apples, wine, and other crops are this town’s main export you see. Heck, next to the Apples, my family are the biggest landowners in town! We sell all kinds of wine and spirits from bargain brands all the way up to some of the best in the country. Well, good enough for Princess Celestia’s private stores anyway.”
She arched an eyebrow at that. Maybe this local was not a total bumpkin, but selling wine to the princess would not get one very far back in Canterlot. The purple mare continued to chat about the town as they walked, but living with Vinyl had helped Octavia perfect the art of ignoring drivel. Curiously, Beauty Brass seemed quite keen to listen. The cellist decided to look at the scenery instead.
All the buildings were done in approximately the same century-old style of stucco and thatched roofs. And although most of the streets were at least paved (even if it was cheap cobblestone) there were still sections of dirt here or there where the road was broken or incomplete. But that did not really matter since the roads were practically barren despite them moving through the center of town.
“Are we almost there?” Octavia asked impatiently.
“Oh, yes we are. Sorry. I sort of ramble sometimes,” she smiled as she spoke. However, there was a little tug at the corner of her mouth. Since she was a filly, Octavia had been taught how to read ponies, and this one was obviously annoyed at being interrupted, but was trying to be friendly. She was instantly suspicious. What friend of Vinyl’s would be that self-aware?
Coming to a stop in the street, it was not immediately obvious where they would be going, since all of the buildings were almost uniform in appearance. The only clue was a sign near a door just a little bit ahead of the party. It was a little stained with dirt, but as they got closer, Octavia could see a brass horseshoe on a plaque nailed into the dark wooden sign. On top of the peculiar decoration were the words ‘The Lucky Horseshoe’ carved into the wood.
“You’re taking us… to a bar!?” the classy cellist gasped in horror. Of all the seedy places they could possibly go to meet, this was by far the worst. It was enough, in fact, to make Octavia stop in her tracks and consider making a beeline for the train and damn the consequences.
“Yep!” Berry Punch chirped, standing beside the door and looking at them. “I know it might LOOK like a bit of a dive, but it’s really quite homey. It’s not crowded at this time of day and it’s not really rowdy. Besides, it’s the most convenient place for us all to meet.” She put on her best smile.
“I’ve never been in a small-town bar before,” Beauty Brass said with amusement before taking a few steps towards it. “Are you coming in, Octavia? I wanna see what it’s like!”
Confound you, Beauty Brass! the bow-wearing mare seethed. She knew her friend had no such desire.
Berry smiled as they approached the door and walked inside ahead of her. The interior was made mostly of lighter wood, save an oaken counter at the bar itself. A dozen small tables and even more chairs were strewn about the floor, each immaculately cleaned to the point where they sparkled in the light of the small chandeliers hanging overhead. Aside from the pictures and paintings hanging on the wall, the room was neat to the point of being a little barren.
“Hey, Berry. It’s Friday afternoon and you’re not drunk yet: what gives?” a baritone voice called out from somewhere hidden in the room.
“I’m showing some new friends around town before they meet up with the gang,” she replied.
“The GANG?” Octavia questioned, slightly panicked.
“Oh, okay. I take it you’ll have the usual then?” Suddenly, a pony popped up from behind the counter. He was a smokey grey pegasus stallion with green eyes and a mane almost as white as snow. Octavia could not make out his cutie mark, however, since he stood behind the counter.
“Oh, no thank you, Quick Silver. At least, not right away. It’s going to be a story night, and I don’t want to get hammered until I’m at LEAST halfway through!”
“Charming,” Octavia mumbled with half-lidded eyes.
“All right, fair enough,” he shrugged. “Can I get you two ladies anything to drink?
“Not unless you have coffee,” the grey mare responded with a flat tone.
“I’ll take a sarsaparilla, if you have any,” Beauty smiled.
“I have both, no problem. Do you want cream or sugar with your coffee, ma’am?”
“Cream, but no sugar. Thank you,” she finished. Berry started walking towards a table in the corner and the two Canterlot mares followed. It was a quiet, intimate sort of booth nestled into a corner of the room that had three sides of seating and other booths neighboring it. Berry slid right into the back, but Octavia sat as close to the edge of the continuous bench as possible. Beauty Brass, meanwhile, settled in to sit right beside her friend.
“The others should be here any minute,” the Ponyville native assured them as they sat in silence, with only the ticking of a clock somewhere unseen and the sound of cluttering glasses breaking it. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, a bell above the door rang and the sound of many hooves clopping on wood caused Octavia to turn and look.
There were three ponies at the door, two mares and a single stallion. The first mare in was a unicorn with a dark blue coat, and a strange, wavy two-tone mane of blue and white that reminded her somewhat of Vinyl, except slightly more elegant. The second mare was also a unicorn, but she had a very deep brown coloured coat with a mane of white which had some dirt in it.
“Hey there!” Berry waved to her friends. “Over here! Come, sit and be merry!” She smiled and continued to wave, even as they walked over to her. The two mares and stallion slid into the stall on the opposite side of Octavia and Beauty, with the colt of the trio taking the other outside seat. He was a rather muscular, brown pegasus with a blonde mane and, from the angle, the cellist could see a guitar cutie mark on his flank.
“So! Introductions,” Berry smiled. “This is Colgate, Quick Fix, and the lug over at the end is Blind Charge,” she said, gesturing to the blue pony, brown mare, and stallion respectively. “Toothpaste, Wrench and Charger, this is the infamous Octy- er… Octavia and her friend Beauty Brass.”
Octavia looked over at Berry with no doubt a look of confusion. “Those are our Vinyl nicknames,” Quick Fix explained with a roll of her eyes. “Speaking of, Grape, where’s Lye?”
“I can field that one,” the mare known as Colgate spoke. “She and her marefriend had a fight last night and she was kicked out of the house, so she spent the night at mine and has to go make nice. She told me she’d be along later in the evening and to go on without her.”
“What’d she do this time?” Berry asked, blinking.
“No idea; I didn’t pry. Probably that weird hobby of hers again.” There was a shared chuckle around the room, which Octavia found a little off-putting. What kind of hobby did this ‘Lye’ character have that was so amusing, yet got her in trouble with, probably, saner ponies?
“So… uh,” Octavia spoke in the hopes of getting things moving. “What’s the story with Vinyl Scratch and those sunglasses of hers? After all, that is what we came down here to find out. And could we do this quickly? We have a big concert to prepare for in a few days and the sooner we get things sorted, the better.
“Yeah, Berry told us what happened last night. Not a smart move on your part,” the brown pony said.
“I’ve gathered,” the cellist said with deadpan expression, the black mark on her eye only just barely visible through her grey coat.
“I’ll tell the story! I should know it best because she told it to me only a couple of years ago.” Berry grinned broadly, probably sensing the building tension. “It all started just a couple of months after Vee got her DJ license.”
“Wait. Are you telling me a pony needs to be certified to be a disk jockey!?” Octavia interrupted, her jaw dropped slightly.
“Apparently so,” the purple pony continued, not batting an eye at her interruption. “Can you please save all questions and comments for the end? It’d be hard for me to keep track if you don’t. Um… right! It was a few years ago…”
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
Large, canvas tents of multi-coloured hues stood as islands amongst a sea of moving bodies through the even larger hall in which they sat. Hundreds of conversations melted into a single rabble of incoherent speech behind a veil of music. The melodies were not exempt from the melting pot though: each individual song collided and created something new with its neighbours. To most ponies, it was an unholy hodgepodge of obnoxious noise.
However, to one mare standing in the heart of it all, it was anything but. It was a new, unique song all on its own with lyrics that could never be repeated. There was something special about it, knowing that she would never again hear the exact same song with the same tempo or beat to it. Yet, as the pony in front of her moved forward, ever so slightly, she lost track of her muse and remembered where she was.
Only in Manehatten, specifically the annual Musical Arts Convention, could an up-and-coming young artist like herself make it really big if the right pony came along. It was only earlier that morning that a colt from a record label stopped by her booth and expressed a breath of interest in her. Not that being tied to a lebel was her scene, but it meant ponies were interested and that was always a good thing! But the future… beyond the immediate, anyway… was far from her mind as she glanced over the shoulder of the pony standing in front of her.
Vinyl Scratch’s constant smirk turned into a beaming grin as she noticed that she was now only a couple of pony lengths from her! A jolt of electricity shot through her body, causing her to trot in place on the spot excitedly and very nearly let out a very un-cool squeal at the idea of being so close to her idol after only waiting an hour in line. She did not notice that she had stepped on the tail of the stallion in front of her. “Ow!” he exclaimed before looking back at the magenta-eyed mare. “Watch where you’re stepping!”
Normally, Vinyl would have gotten mad at him for talking to her in such a rude tone, but she was so excited to meet her that she simply let it slide off her back. “Kay. Sorry dude. No need to be testy.” Although not easing up on his glare, the colt turned his head back to face the front. Behind his flank, Vinyl stuck her tongue out at him and decided to call it even, lest she embarrass herself in front of the mare at the end of the line.
Looking around him again, she found that the queue was beginning to move far more quickly than she had realized. Maybe it was the anticipation, or maybe it was the lack of conversation, but it did not matter to Vinyl. The white unicorn at the table ahead smiled warmly and spoke unknown words to a star-struck filly in front of her.
Her two-tone purple mane was swept back into a spiky mohawk that ran all the way down her neck. However, her most distinctive feature was her purple shades. They had big, thick rims of black plastic and the lenses had a gradient of purple to match her mane, going from dark at the top to lighter near the bottom. Before she had come along, such a look was likely to get somepony laughed off the stage, but by Celestia, she made it work! Vinyl could not help but let her mind run wild with the possibilities of what would happen when she met her, ignoring the obvious fact that she was probably just as star-struck as the little filly.
In her mind, she could see the two of them going to a coffee shop after the convention was over and talk to each other as if they were old friends. They would discuss this or that, no real topic of conversation; just idle chat. However, she was soon ripped out of her daydreams by a pony at the head of the line calling ‘next’ which made the stallion in front of her advance and come before her.
Now there was a bored-looking minty mare with red, thick-rimmed glasses in the shape of wings in front of Vinyl, making sure the ponies in line stayed orderly and did not crowd the mare beyond. “If you want anything signed, its five bits,” she spoke in a whiney, high-strung Upper Manehatten accent. Vinyl dug into her saddle bags and pulled out a small sack of bits of which five floated into the other pony’s pack. The budding DJ also pulled out a record, a picture of the mare at the table leaning over an old-style standing microphone against a black background on the front.
“Next!” the bored mare called out once the colt finished stammering goodbye. She moved slightly to the side to let Vinyl pass, which the unicorn was only too happy to do. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, forcing her every ounce of willpower to stop from breaking into a gallop. Each hoof step seeming like an eternity as she travelled closer to the mare than she had ever dreamed she would. She took a deep breath to steel herself and presented the album jacket for her to sign.
At first, the white unicorn at the table gave her a small, but friendly smile. However, as Vinyl got closer, it broadened into a wide grin. “Hey there, kid!” she said warmly with a hoof beckoning her closer.
“Hey. ...Sup?” Vinyl spoke, voice shaking a little, but determined to remain calm and cool in front of her.
“I caught your show last night, you know. It’s nice to meet you, DJ P0n-3!” She extended her hoof for her to shake.
“You... You, DJ FLARE, caught my show? MY show!?” she replied in squeaky disbelief, but shook her hoof nonetheless.
“Uh-huh! The owner of the club’s an old friend of mine, helped me get started, and I was in last night to catch up. I heard you laying down the beats and I asked him about you: said you were a newbie, but still good enough for him to give a shot. I agree with him! Techno isn’t my niche, since I’m more a rocker mare, but I was impressed.”
Vinyl could hardly believe her ears. Here she was: DJ Flare, the best and most well-known disk jockey this side of the dragon lands, telling her that she, Vinyl Scratch, had impressed her! “I... I’m honoured! I know you must get this all the time, but I got into DJing because of you.”
“Not as often as you’d think, actually,” she said with a smile. The album jacket Vinyl had brought to be signed lay forgotten on the table. “You know, I think we might have to pick up this conversation later, DJ P0n-3. I’m free this afternoon for lunch. Why don’t you join me?” she continued, bringing over the album with her hoof and signing it after seeing how antsy the crowd was getting.
Vinyl had to fight to keep her cool and not squeal with pure euphoria. “Sure, I can dig that. You can call me ‘Vinyl’ if you want to. Where do you want to meet?”
“I was thinking maybe by that burger place out back at, say, around two or something? If I can call you Vinyl, then you can call me-”
“Oh come on!” an impatient pony near the back of the line shouted, making the ever calm idol turn her head and, as Vinyl imagined, roll her eyes behind those opaque shades. However, some of the other ponies in line were beginning to push and shove, obviously annoyed that Vinyl had spent far longer with her than any pony before. It was almost enough to make her laugh and slightly envious of how many ponies simply wanted to talk to her. Vinyl hoped that, one day, she might have fans like that.
“Well, I’ve held up your line for long enough. Sounds like a kick-flank idea. I’ll meet you there,” the younger DJ smiled.
“Yep, see you there, Vinyl,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hoof.
Taking her album back, the unicorn made her way down the small elevated stage that had the table on top, but she felt like she could have sprouted wings and done a loop-de-loop down instead. However, she bumped into a stallion dressed in a black suit making his way up towards the stage. Seeing no badge on him to tell if he worked for Flare or not, she decided to help him out. “Hey, buddy. The line starts back there.”
However, the rude colt shoved her aside, a glint of silver from a necklace flashing in her eyes, making her turn on the spot in curiosity. He marched right up to the other mare; shoving aside a fan getting his shirt signed by her and cleared his throat loudly. “DJ Flare, the time has come for you to pay for the insult you once did to us,” he spoke over the rabble in a Neighponese accent.
For her part, Flare did not bother with him, not even looking up, until she had finished signing the shirt. “Silent Shadow, do you really need to do this here? I’m with fans and this is a very public place.”
“I do not care! Because of you I have lost everything...and I am not alone. I can do what I want, when I want, where I want, because there is no pony more free than one with nothing to lose!”
“Don’t care; come back later,” she said with a hint of mirth, judging by her unphased grin. However, no pony was laughing, especially as half a dozen other ponies, all dressed in the same black outfit, crept out of the crowd and encircled the DJ. She turned her head, smile turning into a slight frown as she regarded every pony around her. “Really? You seriously want me to leave my shoe print on your rears? Well... if you’re THAT determined, I would be very rude of me to deny you.”
“Hey, wait!” Vinyl said, walking up to face the scene that she has somehow ended up in the middle of. “You’re going to fight her!? Why? What’s she ever done to you, buck-face?”
“This is nothing foals need concern themselves with. Begone, lest you get hurt,” the leader of the encircling ponies spoke to her coldly.
“Oh-ho-ho, now I’m going to have fun bucking your face in, bub,” she replied before walking over to him. “NO PONY calls DJ P0N-3 a foal and gets away with it!”
“You really don’t need to be involved in this,” Flare spoke as she rounded on her table, the workers trying to usher the crowds lined up away. “I’d rather not have a fan get hurt. Especially by scum like this,” she spat at the older stallion.
“I’ve been in brawls before, I can handle myself,” Vinyl reassured her.
The older stallion smirked and chuckled to himself. “Two stupid, young disk jockeys against twelve older, far more experienced ninjas? This will be so easy that it’s almost not sporting. Fillies and gentlecolts? Let’s wipe them out!”
In an instant, everything around them turned to chaos as the ninjas sprung into the attack. Others screamed and ran for their lives as several glints of steel flashed, but the two unicorn mares were ready. Time seemed to slow down for Vinyl as one of the assailants charged her, moving to draw a sword hidden within their skin-tight outfit. She dashed towards them so that the pony would have less time to react.
Her gambit seemed to pay off, as she delivered a solid buck between the eyes, throwing them onto their back before they could draw. Using her magic, she wrapped the ninja in a ruby glow of telekinetic power and sent them flying into a stand down the aisle which collapsed on top of them.
Flare, meanwhile, had used her musical magic to devastating effect; shooting off concussive blasts of raw sound at each ninja, making them fly and bowl over anything in their path, be it pony, bench, or stand alike. The dust began to settle over the moans of injured and humiliated shadow warriors and the ceaseless thunder of running hooves. The stallion that spoke with Flare picked himself up off the floor and smiled. “I don’t know where you two learned to fight like that, but I still have numbers on my side!”
Before either Flare or Vinyl could realize what was happening, dozens, if not hundreds more ninja emerged from the shadowy corners of the convention hall and converged on them. “I bet you didn’t realize there was a Ninja Convention next door, now did you, Flare?” he smirked as the two DJs backed into each other. They were surrounded on all sides and outnumbered at least a thousand to one.
“Dude, what did you DO to these buckers?” Vinyl asked, impressed that her idol had managed to piss off an entire profession.
“I might have gone to Neighpon and I might have partied too much and threw up on an ancient and sacred statue of their deity in a drunken blur,” she answered sheepishly, blushing and rubbing the back of her mane. “And then I might have bucked it. I don’t remember.”
“Oh, Celestia, that sounds awesome,” Vinyl beamed.
“Mmm. Listen, there’s something under the table you might find useful, Vinyl. Be a pal and get it for me?”
“Okay,” she replied a little uneasily, reaching out with her magic beneath the table to feel for what she meant. The sensation was sudden and distinctive as she felt her aura touch something long and hard, making her gasp. She yanked on it and drew the slender sword out of its scabbard and in front of her face. “Sweet!” she smiled as she admired the blade.
Long minutes passed as the ninjas attacked from all sides, pinning them down as others evacuated the hall. Concussive blasts of sound erupted from Flare’s horn as individual ninjas came close to them, all of them with swords drawn, ready to be used with deadly skill. Yet, for every one that was thrown back and injured, two more seemed to pop up in their place, causing Flare’s trademarked smirk to falter just a tiny bit. “Hey, Vee? How ya holdin’ out?” she asked as she heard the clash of blades behind her.
Vinyl barely kept the ninjas on her side of the circle at bay and though they possessed far more experience than her, she kept right on top of them, even beating them back just a little bit. “Fine!” she spoke through her gritted teeth as they clashed against the blade in her mouth. “If I’m in trouble, you’ll know it!” Stepping forward, the ninjas backed off from her, obviously impressed at the way she handled a sword despite being a beginner.
Together, the two unicorns took down hundreds of ninjas back-to-back, some concussed, others bloody heaps piling high on the floor, writhing and moaning in pain, for none of them had, miraculously, died yet. However, the wear was starting to become evident. Vinyl’s coat glistened with sweat as she panted for breath, and the power of Flare’s attacks dwindled just a little bit with every strike.
“Vinyl?” she panted after blasting another away. “I don’t think we can take this for much longer, do you?”
“Not really, no. I hope you have a plan for that,” the younger DJ responded.
“I do,” she sighed. “Brace yourself.” Vinyl had no plans of looking behind her, but she did as she said anyway, pulling back from her marginal advance. However, instead of coming closer, the ninjas stared in horror and froze in place. For a brief moment, she thought Flare had cast some sort of time spell, but the intense buildup of magic energy on her horn gave her pause.
Turning around despite herself, the DJ saw her idol suspended in a sphere of pure blue magic, lightning crackling and sparking in the barrier. From her angle, she could not see the void of white that had become of her eyes, shining through the sunglasses as if nothing were even there. Yet, she could see the unadulterated fear and desperation on the ninjas’ faces as a clue.
Flare shuddered and groaned as each bolt of lightning struck her, causing her body to grow and reshape itself. With a slight cry, wings began to emerge from her sides. Vinyl could only sit there and gawk with the others as the transformation took place, sword falling out of her dropped jaw with a faded clank. Somehow, she was becoming an alicorn, yet the only thing she could think to say was a small, almost inaudible “Damn!”
The bubble of magic faded away slowly, revealing the alicorn within. Her coat dazzled like snow, giving a luster of midday to those around her. Her mane and tail, once spiky and short, now flowed out for feet, wafting in an ethereal breeze, and had not a tangle or single sharp edge to its locks. Musical notes would pop up here and there in her mane, whole notes, half notes, quarter notes; all the notes there were in different combinations.
“Thou shalt pay for angering the Goddess of Music!” the former unicorn shouted, her voice echoing as if she were a multitude. “How dare thee endanger mine fans and mine friends with such reckless disregard!? Prepare to meet divine fury!” Her horn dazzled in a furious flame of ocean blue as magic began to compress around her.
Some ninja began to flee, obviously unicorns since Vinyl herself felt very much like she should be running as well. All the others just looked on in mystified horror, not knowing the retribution that was to come. She knew that Flare would not wish to harm her, but even knowing that, she trembled in her shoes.
A blast, like the loudest pipe organ ever, exploded from the divine mare, shredding clothes, obliterating stands and sending every pony inside the building flying out through the massive windows that made the outer walls of the convention center. All, that is, except for Vinyl Scratch, who stood in amazement, mane swept back as if she had been standing in the middle of a hurricane.
“Holy buck!” she shouted, ears ringing loudly from the volume of the attack. “That was... Oh my... You just!” there were no words to describe the awesomeness that she had just witnessed.
Flare floated down to the ground, shaking her head as if her mane were wet. “Phew,” she expressed, sitting on her rump. “I didn’t mean to put out that much power,” she chuckled uneasily, back still facing away from her. “Are you okay there, Vee?”
“Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, sitting beside her, though still in a mild state of shock. “But holy Celestia! That was... No words to describe.” She shook her head, trying to grind through the object lodged into her mental gears.
“Yeah...” Flare added, although a little sadly. “Listen, Vinyl... I’m afraid I’m going to have to call off our lunch. I’ve only been allowed to stay here because I was all incognito and junk. But, now that my cover’s been blown... I have to go.”
“What!?” she exclaimed, looking up and to the side, into the face of her idol. “Wh-where are you going? Why do you have to leave?”
“I have to leave because I promised Celestia and Luna that I wouldn’t use my powers. They’ll know soon enough that I’ve broken that vow, so I have to go. As for where... Well, let’s just say this is not goodbye.” Her horn glowed once more, this time wrapping the shades that sat on the bridge of her nose with her blue aura, slipping them off to show her rarely seen orange eyes. “I want you to have these, Vinyl. I can’t take material goods where I’m going and... I think you can take care of them.”
Vinyl gulped as she felt the shades descend upon her, landing on her muzzle and throwing the world into a purple tint. “These are... I can’t! These are yours. I’m not worthy enough to wear your shades!” She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she did her damnedest to suppress them.
“Don’t be like that, filly. You have great talent and promise. I’m sure you won’t let me down. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. Goodbye, Vinyl Scratch. And good luck.” Before she could utter a word against it, DJ Flare exploded in light; a light that would have blinded her had it not been for the shades that now adorned her face. Just as soon as it happened, it was gone, and so too was Vinyl’s inspiration, her idol, her goddess.
/***\/***\/***\
“What!?” sounded a general chorus from the peanut gallery of friends. They all looked at Berry Punch, who now had a bottle of whiskey in hoof and a prominent blush on her cheeks, like she had grown a second head. It was obvious that, just like Octavia, they felt the story just shared was rather dubious… and it actually put her at ease knowing that they were at least not completely insane.
“Berry, go home. You’re drunk,” Colgate spoke in a monotone and half-lidded gaze. The others looked just plain disappointed, hinting to the cellist that this was at least a common occurrence.
“I shwear to drunk, I’m not Shelestia,” Berry slurred back.
“Yeah, well, we all know that’s not the story,” Quick Fix quipped after sipping on a glass of sarsaparilla. “Besides, next to Octavia, you’ve known Vinyl the shortest of any of us.” Just as she finished speaking, Berry’s head drooped and fell onto the table with a thunk.
“Fine, which witch here can tell… the… right…” Before the lush could finish her sentence, she drifted off to sleep.
Quick Fix sighed and stood up, shimmying past Blind Charge on her way out. “I’ll go get some coffee and wake her up,” she mumbled.
“Do we have to?” Octavia groaned, casting a disapproving glare at the drunk pony now drooling on the table.
She startled as Beauty set her glass down with a clink. “Well, I for one want to hear more about these so-called ninjas!”
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And ninjas make it all complete!
Hmmm....It would seem that there is more to this than what Berry is saying. Once we do find Vinyl, perhaps she might tell us.
Also, interesting how she shares the same literary tastes as someone with jargon aphasia.
Holy cow, was not expecting that.
No one's mentioned the Bass Cannon reference yet?!?
This is the real story, true facts.
Finally! A non-shipping Octavia Vinyl story!!
1744772 We don't know that yet!
I demand MOAR! 
-----
Now, to you, Mr. Author Man/Woman, fabulous job!
Calling it right now, DJ Flare is Pretty Penny, the landlady. She also knows the real, ninjaless story. As for why Vinyl doesn't know that, not a clue.
Oh skeptical 'tavi, why can't you just trust for once
Suddenly, ninjas!
1744772 OMFG you have no idea how much that makes me want to read this story. It's about time someone strays from the usual.
1760159
So nice to see a different one!
Just mah BASS CANNON!!!!i40.photobucket.com/albums/e205/dirtytabs/Stuff_drawn/MLPTerry576-med.png
[youtube=http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=dT3lq4EJ2yU&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DdT3lq4EJ2yU]
Best thing freaking ever.
wat
Would you care to more expand upon that in the later chapters? I'm really curious.
Oh and, that is THE coolest sounding backstory to vinyl's shades EVER. Even tho i never read any other fanfics about them, i'm sure that this is one of the cooler ones out there. Unless it's made up.
Isn't it base cannon and not bass cannon?
1841713
"Bass" is a musical term, as well as a fish. "Base" is simply how it sounds when someone says it aloud. The more you know!
Thanks for clearing that up! BTW, how do you quote a post someone made? i'm kinda new here.
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Mouse over the comment and on the top-right side you will see a garbage can and/or a couple of speech bubbles. Click the bubbles and there you go.
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Now i get it! Thanks!
Wow, Octavia's a snob. Such despicably low expectations for Vinyl's friends. I'm starting to lose sympathy.