Wrapping Up
A quartet of Royal Guards dragged Thrash Metail away in chains. A few moments later, another unicorn Guard encased the Guitar of the Sirens in a magical bubble and floated it out the door, presumably so it could be locked up safely. And then Octavia found herself staring at a crowd of very confused nobles.
“I say,” said one, “What’s going on? Where’s Frederick?”
“Frederick Horseshoepin,” began Octavia, “Was incapacitated by Thrash Metail, the musician who was just arrested. Thrash wished to use his magical guitar to enthrall everypony here to acquire more fame for himself. Fortunately, his magic could be blocked by real music, which is why he failed.”
“Enthrall?” said another noble. “That’s absurd!”
Octavia nodded at the Guards who had been drafted into Thrash’s band of zombies. “Those Guards can confirm this.”
“Yeah,” said one Guard, blushing. “Heard his music, and then it was like I couldn’t do anything but what he wanted…”
The Guards and other former thralls spoke to the nobles while Octavia took a few moments to recover. She felt exhausted, like she’d just run a marathon. She hadn’t played like that since the Symphony for Moon and Sun after almost being brainwashed by a group of hired thugs. Just once, I’d like to play something epic without my career or soul on the line, she thought. It would make things a lot easier.
“Well,” a noble was saying, “Why didn’t you say anything, Octavia?”
“If I had told you that Thrash was going to turn you into a zombie with an ancient siren artifact, would you have believed me and left?” Octavia asked.
“Er… no… we’d probably just have had the theatre manager throw you off the stage…”
“In which case I would have been unable to stop Thrash. That is why I could not just tell you.”
The nobles still seemed unhappy, but Octavia mustered up the strength to play a few pieces of her own that they seemed to like, which seemed to calm them. After about fifteen minutes, Frederick rushed out onto the stage and began his own performance. "I practiced for this," he told the nobles, "And I won't be stopped for long by some twerp with a guitar. Thank you Octavia, but I can take it from here." The cellist was able to walk backstage and collapse at last.
Crescendo chuckled quietly as she packed up her drums. “Tired, Tavi? You know, metal shows, we play like that all night.”
“Without the attempted mind-control, I would assume,” said Octavia.
“Alright, point, but still. You can’t be that tired yet. Night’s still young!”
Octavia managed a smile and pushed herself to a sitting position. “Right now, I’d just like to listen to Frederick’s music. But… after that, I think it would be nice if we met somewhere later to discuss—“
“Octavia!” Paperweight scampered backstage, a million-star smile on her face. “That was so amazing!” She jumped all about, seemingly having recovered all her energy during the performance. “You totally thrashed Thrash!”
“Paperweight, shhh,” said Octavia, though she was also smiling brightly, “There’s a concert going on right over there.”
“I know, but… that was just too awesome not to shout about!” Paperweight turned to Crescendo. “And you were totally cool too! That was some amazing drumming technique!”
Crescendo couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks. Nice to have a fan who can really listen.”
Paperweight looked from one musician to the other. “What happens now?”
“For now, I’d like to just listen to Frederick's concert,” repeated Octavia. “Paperweight, your ticket should still be valid. And Crescendo, I know that this sort of music does not appeal to you, but if you want to stay I am confident that we can find you a seat.”
Crescendo shrugged. “Not really… like you said, it’s not my thing. But I do want to meet later. Here, how’s this – I’ll take care of the press, and you just listen to the music, okay? After all that’s done, we’ll grab a snack or something.”
“Press?” asked Paperweight.
“Even without all the saving-the-city stuff, Luna’s musician just dueled the most popular musician in town in front of about a hundred Courtiers,” said Crescendo. “Trust me, the newspapers are going to be all over this.”
Octavia sighed. “Yes… and I don’t want them following me around all night. I would be grateful if you would handle that, Crescendo.”
“No sweat.” Crescendo tossed her a salute, then flew towards the back exit.
Octavia managed to get up, shaking her head a bit as she did so. She really wanted a nap. Still, there was beautiful music to be heard. She looked at Paperweight. “Shall we?”
Paperweight smiled. “Sure!”
They walked out to listen to beautiful classical music.
“You’re certain?” Night Light said.
Bellemane nodded and endeavored to keep the glee out of her voice. “I don’t know why she told you that she had an emergency, but she did tell me earlier that she had concert tickets for tonight and she wouldn’t miss the show for anything.” She allowed a bit of doubt to creep into her voice. “I suppose it’s possible that I got the date wrong…”
Night Light looked to one side, his gaze visibly darkening. “I have grown used to deceit in Courtiers, but I refuse to allow it in my pages.”
Bellemane could not explain why she thought, for a moment, that Night Light seemed to be referring to her and not the absent Paperweight. But she just said, “I could go and check. The concert should be almost over.”
“I have business in that part of town anyway. I’d like to examine this for myself.” He paused for a moment. “You come too. My business will require somepony to take minutes.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Bellemane smiled to herself as she left the castle with Night Light and opened a carriage door for him. Yes, once Paperweight was gone, then she would take her place as Night Light’s new top page. She was already almost there. And then she could continue to move up, gain more influence, maybe get a clerking position at some point, and then…
Her thoughts were interrupted when Night Light ordered the carriage to stop. They had reached the Bitzet Theatre, but the Viceroy’s attention was focused on a small crowd outside of it. “What’s going on?” he asked the carriage puller.
The pony frowned. “Judging from all the cameras, some kind of press conference, sir. Would you like me to let you out here?”
“Yes, thank you.” Night Light disembarked, gesturing for Bellemane to do the same. The page followed him, frowning. What’s going on? Well, if Paperweight is here, then Octavia probably is too. Maybe it’s an impromptu interview.
The cameras flashed, and Bellemane saw that Octavia Philharmonica was speaking at the top of the steps leading to the Bitzet Theatre. Beside her was a pegasus with a bright green coat and a purple-and-black striped mane, a couple of Royal Guards, and…
Paperweight?!
“Octavia!” a reporter was yelling. “Was Thrash Metail really going to take over the city?”
“I don’t think he would have gotten that far,” Octavia responded. “But he did intend to enthrall all of the nobles and Courtiers that were at the audience.”
Night Light’s eyes widened slightly. “What?” he breathed.
A reporter asked, “How powerful was Thrash? Was he a real danger to the city and its ponies?”
“He was already controlling about one hundred ponies, including several Royal Guards. He was dangerous, yes.”
“And you beat him on your own?”
“No.” Octavia nodded at Crescendo. “Assisting me with the music was Crescendo, another musician in Canterlot. I could not have defeated Thrash without her aid.”
Crescendo grinned. “Right back at ya, Tavi.”
Octavia frowned. “Octavia. Please.”
“Alright. Right back at ya, Octavia.”
Bellemane let out a breath. It was okay. Paperweight wasn’t involved in whatever this was, and—
“I was also assisted by Paperweight.” Octavia gestured at the page, who seemed a bit surprised by all the attention being focused on her.
“Excuse me,” called out one tall pony. “I’m Major Minor, from Notes On Notes. I’ve heard of you and Crescendo, but never this… Paperweight. What instrument does she play? What genre?”
“Paperweight,” said Octavia, before the page could speak, “Isn’t a musician. She is a page who works in Canterlot Castle. When we learned what Thrash planned to do, Paperweight ran back to the castle, obtained my cello, and brought it back here without damaging it, in about twenty-five minutes.” Octavia gestured to the distant castle, a silent indication of how fast Paperweight had been forced to move to traverse the required distance. “Had she been even a minute late, we would not have been able to stand against Thrash, and he even now would have enthralled many nobles of the Court. Her assistance was indispensible.”
Paperweight blushed and waved at the cameras. “Um… happy to help?” She seemed to brighten a little. “I mean, when I joined the Court as a page I said I’d be willing to help the Court however I can, and stopping a mean pony from making a bunch of Court ponies zombies seemed like a really important way to to do that, and, and…”
Bellemane’s throat suddenly felt very dry. She glanced up at Night Light, only to see him glaring down at her.
“Er…” she began.
“To us,” said Octavia, raising her mug of tea.
“I’ll drink to that!” Crescendo clinked her glass of wine against the mug. “Go us!”
“Yay!” said Paperweight.
The press conference was over. The trio had retreated to a quiet café. The maitre-d’ had not wanted to seat Crescendo, but Octavia had convinced him otherwise. As it turned out, she could be very persuasive when she had a mind to be.
“You’re alright,” said Crescendo, nudging Octavia. “Thought you’d be one of those stuck-up classical folks who hates playing any sort of modern genres, but you really did good tonight. Awesome performance.”
“As I told you before, I’ve no objection to metal, or any other genre,” said Octavia. “Although, speaking of genres … you recognized the Latigo and Xenophon themes that I played very quickly. I don’t think those are part of the standard metal repertoire.” She paused for a moment. “Where did you learn them?”
Crescendo almost choked on her wine. “Uh.”
“Also, your drum technique… now that I think about it, in the last part of the piece, when I had wrested control from Thrash, you stopped playing pure rhythms. You worked in some classical drum segments that went well with what I was playing.” Octavia smiled. “You’ve had classical training, haven’t you?”
Paperweight grinned. “You figured that out just from how she played her drums?”
“I have very good ears,” said Octavia.
Crescendo blushed. “I… yeah. I studied classical for a while. But it just never clicked, you know?”
Octavia nodded.
“I was out one day and I heard this rock musician in a park, and he wasn’t even that good, but it just… moved me. In a way classical never did. So I played that instead. Teachers and friends didn’t like it, but whatever. I’ve gotta be true to the music I feel.”
“As do I,” said Octavia. “As do all real musicians.” She paused. “Your genre is not my own. But I appreciate your ability, and I enjoy hearing you play.”
“Same to you. Maybe… maybe I’ll even get some of your records. See what else you can do.” Crescendo chuckled. “Got anything loud and powerful?”
“Yes.”
Paperweight grinned. “Ooh! If you two play together again, can I listen?”
“I don’t think we—“ began Octavia, but Crescendo waved her off. “What?”
“Just thinking. That song we played tonight, that wasn’t classical or metal. It was something in between. And it sounded great, especially once Thrash collapsed.” Crescendo smiled. “Just throwing this out there, but what if we – and a few other musicians, all different genres – had a couple jam sessions? See what happens when some great players in different areas work together.”
“I have a job; I can’t join a new band.“ said Octavia.
“Not a full-time thing. Maybe one night a week, or two nights a month or something, we reserve a space and just play around. And if we get something real good, we put on a show.” Crescendo laughed. “Weren’t you telling me you wanted to look for new music for your Court buddies? What if you could show them something in some new mashup style?”
Octavia thought about the possibilities. She would be able to play music with Crescendo, and also with other musicians who were masters in all kinds of music she was unfamiliar with. They would be able to hear each other, delight in novel sounds, and combine what they could do into something truly splendid. “That… that sounds like a splendid idea, Crescendo. We should come up with some names and begin asking if others are interested.”
“Awesome. We’ll set the Canterlot music scene on fire!”
Paperweight opened her mouth, and Octavia nodded. “And you, of course, may come to any of our ‘jam’ sessions that you wish, Paperweight.”
“Awesome!” Paperweight grinned as a platter of hay fries arrived, and she began chowing down. “Hey, Octavia?”
“Yes?”
“You know how you said I’m really good at analyzing music and I know a lot about a lot of pieces?”
“… yes?”
Paperweight smiled winningly. “Notes On Notes is looking for new ponies to send out music reviews a few times a month, and, uh… if I applied, do you think you could write me a recommendation? I was thinking, one of the parts of your job that sounds really cool is you can help recommend great musicians and bring them to the notice of patrons and Courtiers, and even if I can’t do that, if I hear a really neat concert, I’d love to tell everypony about it!”
Octavia nodded. “Hmm. I’d like you to write me a sample review or two first, to make sure it matches Notes on Notes' style—“
“Of course!”
“But if they’re anything like the sophisticated commentary I’ve heard you give about all kinds of pieces, I’m certain they’ll be fine. I would be proud to recommend you to that newspaper, or any other.”
Paperweight didn’t say anything, but her smile spoke for her.
Octavia left Crescendo and Paperweight shortly after the second platter of hay fries (which Paperweight seemed able to consume in endless quantities) arrived. Though tired, she did want to take care of one more piece of business before sunrise.
She signed in as a visitor to Foalsome Prison to see the newest inmate. Once in the room, she set down her cello and looked through the viewing pane as Thrash Metail was led in.
“Here to gloat?” he snapped when he saw her.
“No,” she said.
“Want to offer mercy again?”
“That is no longer in my control.” Octavia’s voice was low. “You attempted to enthrall a hundred Courtiers. In addition to all the ponies you did take control of, what you tried at the theatre is arguably high treason. They won’t release you from those charges just because I ask them to.”
“Well, you could tell them it was the Guitar’s fault.”
“I will tell the Guards everything I know about the Guitar, but they have specialists who can examine its enchantments more precisely. Even if I were willing to lie – which I am not – it would not help you.”
Thrash looked annoyed. “Why are you here, then?”
“I wanted to know if any of your previous discography has survived. If so, I would like to know the names of your records.”
Thrash stared. “Why?”
“Because I want to know what you sounded like before you were corrupted.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you actually care about music at all, even slightly, you’ll want the world to remember you for your real works – however bad they are – rather than your magic-laden lies.”
They locked eyes for a moment before Thrash turned away. “Never sold,” he said. “Nopony bought them. Stores returned them to me… and I burned them.”
“Why?”
“They were no good. They didn’t make me a rock star. No point in keeping them.”
Octavia bowed her head slightly. After a moment, she rose. “I apologize for wasting your time.”
“You think you’re so much better than me?” Thrash snapped. “We both worked hard, Tavi. And you know it. Who cares if you spent your time memorizing intervals and I spent mine spelunking for a magic artifact? I put sweat in too. I—“
“It’s not about the sweat,” said Octavia. “Not exactly. It’s about the music. It’s about practicing so much that you can practically see the chords. It’s about playing until your hooves bleed so that you can feel the music in every part of your body. It’s about immersing yourself in sound and welcoming it into your life until you understand it on such a deep level that you can appreciate every shade and nuance in a performance. Above all, it's about a love of music. I have that. Crescendo and Paperweight have that. You do not.” She frowned. “You want fame. I understand that. But you don’t care about music in the slightest. You’d have been an actor or a politician if you thought it was an easier way to become a star. Music is too pure to be a tool for something else, Thrash. If it wasn’t me, another pony would have beaten you. Just as every other owner of that Guitar was defeated in the end. You cannot be a great musician with glamours and mirages… no matter how much effort they take.”
Thrash looked angry. “I worked hard!” he repeated.
“Yes – to be famous. And you achieved that. Tomorrow, your arrest photo will be in every paper. Congratulations.” Octavia turned on her hoof and began to trot away. “I wish things had been different.”
“This isn’t over,” snapped Thrash. “Believe me. I’ll get out of here. I’ll be back.”
“Perhaps.” Octavia’s voice was as firm and unyielding as a stone wall. “If you do, I will defeat you again.”
She ignored his angry retort and left.
Bellemane sat in the little room, forbidden to leave or do anything else by order of Viceroy Night Light, and hoped that she would be let off with ‘just’ being fired.
Night Light had been furious, almost too much so to speak. He’d managed to communicate that it was abominable that she would lie and sabotage Paperweight as she had, and that he would need time to come up with an appropriate punishment. Her only clue as to her fate had been him hinting that the Equestrian embassy to the griffin kingdoms needed more clerical staff. She hoped fervently it didn’t come to that, but she didn’t know of any way to stop it.
I screwed up, she thought. And now the most powerful pony in Equestria, bar Luna, hates me. This night could not get any worse.
The door opened, and Paperweight walked in.
“What do you want?” snapped Bellemane.
Paperweight looked sad. “Why did you lie to Night Light?” she asked. “I never did anything to you, Bellemane.”
“He favored you.”
“He just liked that I worked hard. I would have helped you work harder too. He could have liked both of us… or all of his pages.”
Bellemane looked away. “I asked you what you want.”
“I was talking to Night Light. Since I’m the one you tried to hurt, he thought I should have some say in your punishment. He was really angry… he was talking about having you barred from ever working in the castle again, or having you sent to the griffin kingdoms, or making you work for Viscount Blueblood.”
Bellemane gagged. She’d heard stories about Blueblood, about how he berated his pages for his own screw-ups and made them perform humiliating tasks to placate his vast ego. He’d made one search through three hundred white shirts to find the single one that best matched his coat for a dance. “Which is it?”
“Well… I said I didn’t want you really badly punished. I mean, I’ve done bad stuff too, and I’m glad other ponies forgave me when I did. So he asked what I had in mind.” She smiled. “I came up with an idea he liked, actually. You’re on probation.”
“Just probation?” Bellemane was stunned. The punishment seemed much too light.
“For three months. To see if you can become a better page and pony. And get this – I’ll be the one to mentor you!”
“…what?!”
Paperweight grinned. “After what I did tonight, Night Light said that he’d be happy to have a literal hero as his head page, so he gave me the spot. That means I’m in charge of his other pages when he’s not around! And I’m especially in charge of you.” She trotted over to Bellemane, smiling brightly. “I’m going to make you into the hardest-working and best page in the castle! It will be a lot of work, but we’ll train – well, I’ll train you – every spare moment if I have to! And then, if he thinks you’re good enough after three months, he’ll let you keep working for him instead of passing you to Viscount Blueblood.”
“Goodie,” managed Bellemane. Now I’m her subordinate?!
Paperweight frowned. “Hey. I’m stopping you from getting stuck working with Blueblood or sent abroad. I think—“
“Right, right, I get it.” Bellemane sighed. This was her punishment, and she would have to accept it, or risk suffering the penalty that Night Light had originally planned for her. “Alright. Thank you for this opportunity. And… I’m sorry.” She bowed, kneeling somewhat close to the ground in apology.
“I forgive you.” Paperweight resumed her happy expression. “Now – let’s start training right away! First of all, that bow’s all wrong. You need to go lower, and incline your head, like this…”
Octavia stepped out onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh pre-dawn air.
She had beaten Thrash, saved the day, possibly helped to start a new music movement in the city, and was aiding one of her good friends to share her knowledge and love of music with the world. All in all, it was a grand night’s work.
She began to play on her cello, deciding to warm up a bit before Luna arrived. She chose a strong and bright tune, one that spoke of victory, and triumph over evil. She played a few notes, and there it was, rushing out of her cello and into the night air.
The cellist stared at the beautiful night sky as she played. Little minor themes cropped up in the music, but the main theme rushed over them, heedless of any stumbling blocks or obstacles in its path. It was righteous and pure and able, and it could not be stopped by anything fake (she played a fast trill that sounded much harder than it was to play) or halfhearted (she played the skeleton of what might have been a credible alternate theme) or evil (she played a sharp blast that seemed designed to trip up the main theme). No, her melody just moved on its way, confident in its victory, and glorious in its beauty. It was not afraid of evil. It did not even deign to notice evil. Nothing bad mattered, and only the good and remained.
She finished with a perfect authentic cadence and swept her bow up at the sky, smiling to herself. Perfect, she thought. I wish I’d waited for Luna now, I think she would have liked that—
“That was lovely, Octavia.”
Octavia turned to see the Princess. Oh. Right. She’s one of the few ponies who can sneak up on me.
Luna looked merry. “I understand you had quite an adventure this evening.”
“Yes,” said Octavia.
The cellist wondered if Luna would say anything else, asking her to elaborate on what had happened or perhaps chastising her for taking such a risk without calling the Guards. But Luna just smiled. “Well done,” she said.
Octavia couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you.”
“Now.” Luna turned to the sky. “I arrived in the middle of the piece you were just playing, and I think I want to hear the beginning.”
“Of course.” Octavia readied herself. “On your mark.”
Luna’s horn glowed, and as the heavens moved above her, Octavia played.
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Very, very glad you cut out the bit with the Baron. As for the chapter itself, awesome! Ah, Bellemane... actually, one thing. As far as i could tell, we don't know what she's doing when Paperweight goes to see her. So the last bit kinda comes outta nowhere. Other than that, great work!
1873193: What I was going for was Night Light telling Bellemane, basically, to sit in the room and not come out until he decides on an appropriate punishment for her. I added a few words to hopefully clarify that.
McNitpick worked better in my head than on paper. The idea was that he would show up in fics and completely miss major points to complain about little things -- ignoring that the concert was commandeered by Thrash to complain that the program is wrong, or if he were at the Gala, he might be all, "I was promised an evening of fun and whimsy, not a bunch of ponies confessing their deepest secrets to each other! The advertisement was misleading!" It kind of flopped when I wrote it down, so I cut him.
1873205 Well, I figured that bit about where she was. ;) I meant all of a sudden Paperweight's talking about bows and inclining your head. And there didn't seem to be any connection with what came before. There's no indication Bellemane's playing anything.
...
Am I making sense? [/legit]
1873222: Oh! By bowing, I meant like kneeling. Bellemane bows before Paperweight in apology, and Paperweight begins to correct her technique (which matters since ponies need to bow before the high nobles and Luna; we saw Greengrass bowing to Luna in the Gala fic already, I think.)
A nice ending to an excellent story. Well done, and looking forwards to the next one.
(I imagined that last song she played waiting for Luna was "We are the Champions" just cause that's an awesome song to go out on
)
1873254 Oh... oh. Is it good or bad I feel VERY stupid right now?[/legit]
1873291: My fault for being unclear. I added a few more words to try to fix that. I blame English for using the same word to mean two very different things. :-)
1873257
....I can agree with that.
And I just love how Luna treats it as if it was just another day in Canterlot.
1873302 *Rereads* Okay, makes a lot more sense. Thanks.
1873318: Well, thanks to Octy and co, it kind of was. Thrash was stopped and the day was saved. And Luna lets Octy know that she knows what Octy did and approves.
(I debated having her say something more heartfelt -- "I'm proud of you" or "I know I made the right choice in choosing my musician" or something, but I figure Luna would probably be more taciturn. Besides, Octavia is supposed to 'understand' Luna as of Symphony and the first chapters of this fic, so Luna shouldn't need a lot of words to communicate to Octavia that she believes Octavia did a very good thing, and acted righteously).
What do you do with a cused guitar? Why that's obvious. You shred it!
1873358: Aw, that'd break Vinyl's heart. (I can just see her trying to convince Lyra to mount a rescue mission for the Guitar. "It's like an instant rave! It can turn any party into a Super Party! We've gotta get it! Pinkie, back me up!")
(On a random note, as Vinyl seems to genuinely have no political ambitions or desire to take over/rule in any sense, maybe she could handle the Guitar without being corrupted by it? I dunno.)
1873328: No prob. Glad I could clear things up. :-)
1873358 *groans and slowclaps* oh jeez that was atrocious, you string us along, lulling us into a false sense of security before grabbing us by the necks and rocking the fret out.
I couldn't resist
Beautiful story, I like your choice of ending as well, leaving it available for other authors. Definitely would enjoy seeing more Octavia Lunaverse from you.
1873358
That pun was painful.
1873371 Probably not. It seems to be like the Alicorn Amulet in it simply corrupts, no matter the intentions.
...
Oh, god! Someone uses the Amulet and Guitar at once! We'd be having Luna in full-on rave mode, with glow sticks taped to her forelegs and her mane all spiky!
Very nicely written and constructed story. Could've used a bit more time I think for your side characters but overall fantastic job. Thanks so much for sharing it.
Those jam sessions sound awesome.
Oooo, nice to see Bellemane get to sweat a little after her attempt to stab Paperweight in the back. And Paperweight gets promoted to head page for Night Light, even better. I'm assuming that the music review job she is applying for is intended to be a side job?
Excellent ending to a great story, I have to agree with Luna here.
Very well done! This was a pleasant little adventure.
Life is never dull in fantasy lands full of ponies, is it?
1874172: Yes. She's not quitting as a page, but she just writes a few reviews, maybe one a week or something, in her spare time. As I'd mentioned a couple times before how Paperweight, though not a musician, seemed to be very knowledgable/perceptive about music, it seemed like a neat place to take her character.
I think those jam sessions sound neat too. A bunch of experts in different music styles, gathered together to make something brilliant.
Glad you liked it!
1874260: Heh. No, no it is not. There's always some new disaster brewing. Fortunately, the world's most adorable heroes are available to save the day!
Glad you enjoyed it!
This was a nice wrap-up to an awesome story. Octavia's speech to Thrash was very well thought out - if you care more about fame than you do about the music, then you're not a musician, and a true musician will always be able to beat you. I don't think Thrash's threat of coming back is a particularly dangerous one - unless he can get his hooves on the Guitar again, or the Alicorn Amulet or something similar, I can't see him being much of a threat.
I half expected Bellemane to quit rather than submit to working under Paperweight. It's nice that she actually shows some signs of repentance, or at least going through the motions in order to keep her job. I can't quite figure Paperweight out - whether she's entirely innocent of any malice against Bellemane and just wants to help her to be a better page, or if she's going to use this opportunity to pay Bellemane back for everything she's done. I honestly wouldn't blame her for the latter. Paperweight deserves to go far in life, I think.
I do like this view of Night Light. He is a perfectionist, and won't abide by deception or betrayal in his staff. It would be terrible if there were corruption in the Night Court, after all!
So yes! Very well done with this story. I really love all of your Octavia stories, and you certainly haven't let me down with this one!
1873205
So...basically, Baron McNitpick is me.
Otherwise, this was a...wait, I have to save that for the review. Sorry.
And then Octavia was metal.
th03.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/190/f/1/rocktavia_by_kitsuneymg-d4o5liz.png
I support the quest for the Guitar of Instant Raves. I really like flash mobs.
1875142
It was in Guitar Hero 3 dood. Hell, I actually have it on my iPod.
1874771: I see Paperweight as being sincere when she says she wants to help Bellemane. She isn't mean or vindictive; since everything worked out okay, she'd rather help Bellemane get back into Night Light's good graces than see her sent to the griffin kingdoms/Eastern Nowhere/Blueblood. And I also hope she does well in life. (Somehow, I have a feeling she and Pinkie Pie would get along very well).
I like the image of Night Light as a perfectionist. It seems to fit what we know of him.
Octavia's speech to Thrash was fun to write. I find it interesting to focus on the distinction between those who like Career X and those who want to be famous, and think that Career X might just be a cool/fun way to become famous. And I love a story in which a true craftsperson (or pony) is able to overcome some bozo who just cares about the headlines and groupies.
If Thrash ever does return, he'll definitely need some kind of magic trinket to be a worthy foe. (Or, y'know, he could practice, but that's unlikely). But he's shown at least a little talent in spelunking/artifact hunting, so I guess it's not out of the question. (That said, I've no plans to write anything like that in the immediate future).
Glad you enjoyed it!
1875008: Heh. Well, your reviews usually focus on relevant things in the stories. And I'm looking forward to seeing what you think.
Huh... I've done two stories since your last review (Fishing in the Dark, and this one), and you also said you'd be looking at Dinky and the Blanks. Now I'm excited. :-)
1877067
This does remind me of Pinkie Pie's behaviour in "Griffin the Brush-Off". It's nice. I hope she shows up again in future stories, even if only peripherally.
The difference between Octavia's ambitions and Thrash's is a bit subtle, but I find it very interesting. The way I see it, they both want to perform for the most important audiences in Equestria - Luna, the Night Court, etc. But for Octavia, that's because performing for the most important audiences is synonymous with reaching perfection in her art. I don't quite agree with this assessment, but I suppose it's true that the best educated critics tend to watch performances with the most influential audiences, and of course Luna is the highest authority on music in Equestria. On the other hand, Thrash uses the music as a tool to get what he really wants - fame, adoration and exposure.
There's another way for Metail to come back as a threat, now that I think about it - he could team up with somepony else. Another Lunaverse antagonist who's determined to prove that she's right in spite of evidence that her entire way of going about things is flawed, somepony else with awesome magical power who isn't afraid to throw around illegal enchantment magic to get her way.
Not that I can see any reason why those two would work together anyway. I actually wonder if some time spent away from the influence of the Guitar will help Thrash to come to his senses.
1878481: In addition to what you said, Octavia also wants to perform for Luna because Luna, as an immortal artist, can appreciate her music on a level few (if any) others can. Octavia takes more pleasure in performances when her audience really gets her, and Luna does. The Court, which generally has the requisite cultural training (fancy schools and stuff) also tends to 'get' the sort of music she plays, which is why she wanted to play for the Court so badly. That's, of course, something Thrash could never understand -- he doesn't want his audience to get his music, he just wants them to love him.
Heh. Thrash, as an Element of Insanity? Hmm. Laughter, Loyalty, Honesty, and Magic are taken. I suppose Twilight might think that he's generously giving of his musical talent to the adoring masses? :-)
I also hope Paperweight shows up again. She's fun!
1875068: You're welcome! Glad you liked it!
This story was a mixed bag for me.
On the one hand, the writing for Octavia and the music was generally a treat to read, the guitar was a cool little item that could be used again, and this story was in general fun.
On the other hand, I felt Paperweight's "awesoemness" was just kinda told to us, and it got even more grating when the whole Bellemane sub-plot appeared , which seemed to only exist to highlight how awesome Paperweight is. In fact, my only real big problem is that I just don't particularly find Paperweight an engaging character. That and the villains(And I'm counting Bellemane as a villain here, hence the plural) were mustache twirlingly transparent.
If I were to pick a side I'd say...I still like it. Perhaps not as much as some of your other stories, but I do still like it.
I liked this story. Octavia seems to have relaxed a bit, since Lyra helped her.
I can kind of see 1879775 point about Paperweight.
She does seem to come across as a (more sane) Pinkie Pie type.
But like I said, I liked it.
actually, i now want to have vinyl doing hijinks
1887228: Vinyl's fun, but there wasn't really room for her in the story.
That said, there is a quite good Lunaverse story that's Vinyl-heavy: The Jackelope Valley Festival
Well, truthfully, this is the first Lunaverse story I've read. I've been planning on immersing myself in nothing but this AU for a while now, but I just haven't gotten to it. That being said, I found this to be an extremely entertaining read with a nice lesson out of it. The musical descriptions were unlike anything I've read before and this story successfully combines three things I love: metal, cellos, and ponies.
More specifically for this chapter, I thought that everything worked well and you made the right choices in pretty much everything. I do have to say, though, that as great as this chapter was, the amount of joy/laughter that emanated from my being when I read the words "Foalsome Prison" came very close to breaking my immersion in the story. This is no fault of yours (far from it), but living just 20 minutes away from Folsom, CA had too much of an effect on me.
I look forward to reading more from you and this universe.
1888592: Glad you liked it! I'm an amateur classical musician (who also enjoys a good bit of rock/metal now and then) and I really enjoy getting to work musical stuff into these stories. MLP is such a musical world anyway that I think the two go really well together, and I'm happy that I've been able to write this much about that particular combination.
I can't take full credit for Foalsome Prison; RainbowDoubleDash mentioned it before me. But I do love the pun and I'm glad I was able to work it in, and I'm also pleased that you liked it. It's nice when things work out just so.
I hope you enjoy other Lunaverse stories. They are all available here. If you're particularly interested in the Octavia ones, they are, in order: Musicians & Dreamers, A Canterlot Morning, and Symphony for Moon and Sun.
It is too bad that this is not canonical, but it does not have the Luna 6. It is rather good. It also shows that NightLight is basically a good pony, but emotion clouds his judgement when it comes to his daughter. At this point, between this story and the Gala, we know more about LunaVerseNightLight than CelestiaVerseNightLight. I hope tjat BelleMane does not turnout like ThrashMeTail.
2174634: It's not necessarily non-canonical... it's a side story. It can be canon if something in canon references it.
Awesome story!
I especially love the use of Devil Went Down to Georgia (love that song, both versions).
Very good story! You're on my mental list of talented FiM authors : )
The Iron Mare scene will stay with me for quite some time ^^
The focus on music is one of the things I like most about the Lunaverse - you and RainbowDoubleDash being the prime examples with not only entire songs written into the story, but linking to music so that the story becomes so much more than words. I love it here, too!
I have to admit, though - I didn't find Thrash Metail to be a good antagonist. I could guess the basics of his scheme when Octavia woke up after the first concert, and since then, I found little excitement in the main plot points. Thrash isn't mysterious enough for my tastes, nor particularly threatening (or threatening in a way that made me fear him), and what I like the least is that he, the character in the story, is unintelligent. The musical bits were awesome, but the parts in between, particularly after the two leads knew about Thrash's spells, often became quite bereft of tension.
All in all, though, I'm still impressed with your work here!
1873371 Or she might go full Nightmare("THE RAVE SHALL LAST FOREVER!!")....
1873895 Luna(Who should really have an Emoticon):(Defensively) "... I was in college, all the cool mares were doing it, STOP JUDGING ME!"
Ahhahahahahahaha... oh you poor, naïve child...
Are there any S2 Tavi and Paperweight fics?
The movie Crossroad is about musician Robert Johnson.
Folklore says he sold his soul to the devil. He did improve almost overnight.