Chapter 8
I lay awake in bed that night, my thoughts awash with today's memories. So much had happened.
Rainbow had gone from zero to hero all over again, and Fluttershy was the one to thank for it. When Dash had got off that stage, she was wearing the dumbest smile, and her eyes held an almost euphoric sense of wonder. Fluttershy had trod groggily beside her, with her eyes distant and her mouth wide open, overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Our group rushed over to the couple, and the mares incessantly peppered them with compliments and questions, but both could barely find the words to express their current state of mind. Fluttershy in particular was coming out of her drunken state, and the best she could do was babble incoherently. I guess she couldn't believe what she had just done, since she then fainted right on the spot.
With worried looks on their faces, Fluttershy's friends had gathered around the fallen angel, each one voicing their opinion that it was their responsibility to get Fluttershy home safely. In the end, though, Rainbow was the most insistent, and we all saw a fiery look in her eyes that made it impossible to turn down her offer. Rainbow quickly got Fluttershy's limp form onto her back, and lifted off into the twilight, carefully controlling her speed to make sure her passenger didn't fall off. After she faded from view, we turned back to the stage, expecting more music, but the band was too stunned to play any more songs, and were already packing up their instruments. With the free entertainment gone, the party quickly dispersed. I knew everypony would be talking about this hoedown for years to come.
But, those ponies would almost certainly talk about Fluttershy taking centre stage, or her foul language, or her epic guitar solo. My mind, however, kept wandering back to that kiss. Everypony who knew the two ponies personally was stunned and perplexed at the kiss, since Rainbow and Fluttershy hadn't shown any special interest in the other before today.
Rarity had looked skyward in thought. "I can't help but be surprised that Fluttershy prefers to, shall we say, 'wander in the flower garden?' I always thought she was the type who was waiting for a valiant stallion in shining armour to sweep her away."
Twilight had also given the situation some thought. "I just hope that this isn't all because Fluttershy was drunk," she wondered aloud.
Rarity gasped. "Goodness, I hadn't even thought of that! What if this was all because Fluttershy was under the influence? And what about the last time she drank? She said that she didn't remember anything from that night! Even if she really does have feelings for Rainbow, she might forget all about tonight! Rainbow would be devastated, and Fluttershy might never again be able to gather enough courage to confess!" Rarity had laid a hoof across her forehead in a swoon. "That would be a terrible tragedy!" It had occurred to me to wonder whether Rarity padded her income by writing trashy romance novels.
Applejack had put a hoof to her chin. "Ah just hope that Rainbow ain't gonna mistreat Shah. Y'all remember that story Rainbow told us? The one with the dancer? Ah don't think the old Rainbow would have said those things to anypony. Will she treat Shah the same way?"
Rarity had been quick to back up Applejack, though she viewed things through her own diamond lens. "I concur, Applejack. Even before Rainbow left Ponyville, I had thought that she would not be one to go along well with relationships, but that problem might now have been even further compounded by that dreadful house of ill repute that she seems to spend so much time in. Fluttershy does not deserve to be treated like a common harlot."
I had to rise to Rainbow's defence. "What are you two talking about? You know Rainbow would never do anything to hurt Fluttershy! Sure, she's been through some tough times, and she's had to adapt to her circumstances, but she wants nothing more than to be treated as an equal among you. How would treating Fluttershy wrongly ever help her to regain your trust? I'm sure she really does love Fluttershy, and even though she's putting on this brash demeanor, trying to be like she was before, she really is just as fragile as Fluttershy now. If she did anything that made you all angry, I know she'd crack into a million pieces."
The four friends had exchanged glances, and Rarity had let out a sigh. "Maybe you're right, darling. I suppose you know Rainbow better than we do, now. I give you both my sincerest apologies."
"Ah guess Ah was also a mite quick to judge," Applejack had said. "They're both grown mares. Ah know they'll figure out this whole mess themselves. But shucks, with a surprise this big, can ya blame us for jumpin' to conclusions?"
"I guess not," I had said. Applejack, and the rest of the group to some extent, had all really seemed put off by the fact that this relationship seemed so sudden and fickle, but deep down inside, I think I was wishing my own relationship was similar. More the "sudden" part, really, but I'd seen Lyra many times over the week, and we'd never come close to kissing after the first date. I knew it was kind of immature to be thinking like this, but I couldn't help myself. Would the random everypony even view Lyra and I as a "thing?" Maybe even Lyra herself doesn't think that way. In the time since our first date, we haven't even come close to holding hooves, let alone kissing. Have I been doing enough? I've gotten new flowers for the vase every day, and conversed with her at the beginning and end of her shifts, and sometimes when I'm bored, too, but in hindsight, would those be things a good friend would also do? Or was Lyra just simply waiting for me to make some sort of move? She had stood up to her own friends for me, so she cared about me at least that much. A wise stallion once told me that that was much harder than standing up to your enemies. Okay no, I just read that once on the Ponynet. Whaddya want from me?
It had been about six years since I'd had a special somepony, and I had never felt the way about her that I did with Lyra. I took her out to places a few times, but we never really seemed able to naturally talk to one another. I often found her staring off into the distance, her cigarette smoke drifting aimlessly in front of her. We tried to get something going, and we made out a few times, but it just didn't feel right to either of us. We broke up pretty quickly.
With Lyra, it was different. When she wasn't around, I often found myself thinking of her. I looked forward to her shifts, and our aimless conversations behind the counter at 12 in the morning. I dreamt of the way she blushes whenever I bring up a risqué topic. I really did like Lyra. Maybe I even loved her. My heart couldn't make up its mind on that, though, since all I knew about love had come from porn and drunk sex at the bar. "Here's a hundred for your troubles" was surprisingly unhelpful when it came to figuring out my emotions toward Lyra. All I knew was that I wanted Lyra. I craved her. And I needed to bring the two of us closer together. My thoughts drifted to Lyra's lips. Six years without being kissed is a long time. As sleep claimed me, my last conscious thought was of her.
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I woke to the clanging of my alarm clock reverberating in my ears. I had picked it up recently so I would always be on time with my newly-complicated morning routine. Without the alarm clock, there had been no way to tell time in my apartment without turning on the computer.
I got out of bed, and headed down to the bathroom to wash up. I had only recently resolved to take a shower daily. With Lyra working in the shop every day, I figured it was for the best. As the hot water splashed in my face, my thoughts once again turned to that dainty, golden-eyed unicorn. I knew that I wanted to get closer to her, but we'd only been more than employer and employee for a bit more than a week, and I wasn't exactly sure how to go about it. A date was the simplest option, and probably the right one, but there were so many ways to go about a date. Should it be romantic or realistic? Extravagant or simple? And should I just go for the kiss, or more than that? And how do I even bring up the subject of a date? Ugh. At times like these, I wished I sold romance novels instead of porn. Hell, even the trashy ones would be better than nothing.
I walked out of the shower, dripping wet, and stared at the empty towel rack. I guess I should buy some new towels, now that I'm showering again. Why this hadn't occurred to me before, I had no idea. My only option was to shake myself like a dog, and after a quick look in my wet and grimy mirror, I confirmed that while my smell wouldn't be a problem, ponies would probably be put off anyways by my apparent lack of mane care. I sighed, and cantered over to the front door, for once happy that it was still hot outside.
I made my way over to the flower shop on Mane Street, something that I had been doing daily for a week or so now. Today, I selected a simple bouquet of white daisies, and brought them over to the counter, where a cream coloured mare with a red-violet mane was waiting.
"How are you doing today, Sly?" said the mare as she punched in some numbers on the register.
"Just fine, Rose," I said. During our short conversations every day, we had learned a little about each other: names, Rose's favourite flowers, and the fact that I was buying these flowers for a mare named Lyra. I had avoided telling her where I worked, though. She seemed to be a pretty conservative pony, and I was reluctant to tell her.
The cash register popped open with a ding, and Rose turned to me. "And how are things going with Lyra? That will be two bits, by the way."
I fished some bits out of my pocket, and hoofed them over to her. "They could be going better. I want to take her on a date, but I have no idea what sort of date she'd like. Should I just take her out to a fancy restaurant?"
Rose stroked her chin with a hoof as she put the bits away. "Hmm, well, all mares would like that, dearie. I know I'm fond of it. But don't go out of your way if you can't afford it."
"How'd you know I was poor?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, you've only been getting the cheapest bouquets, and just by the way you hold yourself, it's not that hard to see. I guess you could say I have a knack for these sorts of things."
"Well, maybe you do, since you're right. I probably couldn't afford a fancy dinner. But what do I do, then?"
"Oh, I don't know, dearie. Just go to some place nice and talk about things you share an interest in. Now, I'd love to talk to you some more, but..." Rose pointed a hoof over my shoulder. I turned, and saw a line of irritated customers.
My cheeks flushed red. "Heh, sorry. Thanks for the advice, Rose."
"No problem, dearie. Ooh, good choice, Davenport..."
I walked out of the store, holding the wrapped bouquet of daisies in my mouth. Their smell wafted into my nose, and I had to restrain myself from taking a bite out of one. These were for Lyra, and I had the ingredients for a simple daisy sandwich at home, anyways.
After I set the bouquet in its vase, and made myself a sandwich, I sat down behind the counter. I greedily took a large bite of my sandwich, savouring its flavour. I was happy Rose had given me that advice. Though, when I thought about it, I found myself asking, "what interests do Lyra and I share?" We'd only really talked about our pasts and what she was doing at college, since the subject of work was still a touchy one. We shared the same liberal views, and had the same sense of humour, but we had not hit upon a topic we could really share our opinions on. That's not to say we hadn't talked much, oh no. We were gabbing it up pretty regularly, it's just that those two topics were the most natural ones to talk about, and working in this type of business means I have no shortage of crazy stories. I'll eventually run out, though, and it'd be nice to have a topic to discuss that we were both equally interested in. Maybe the only reason we hadn't found one yet was that I didn't really have a hobby; I just spent my time at the bar or dicking around on the Ponynet. Lyra had her namesake when she was bored, but I still couldn't get over the fact that that same type of instrument had made us postpone our first date, to put it nicely. The music Eros played wasn't really the type I was interested in, anyways.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the shop's door. I glanced at the TV, and saw that it was past time to open the shop. I sighed, and let the eager stallion in. Guess my thoughts on Lyra will have to wait.
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Lyra briskly cantered in from the twilight, on time as always. A breeze followed her, and she shivered from the unseasonable cold.
She warmed her hooves with a breath. "Whew, it's freezing out there!"
I could only nod in response; it seemed as if any semblance of a smooth opening line had suddenly disappeared. I offered Lyra my chair, and she let out a small moan as she laid herself down on it.
"Ah, nice and warm..." said Lyra, closing her eyes in contentment. She sank into the comfy chair, and I could only smile at the pleasant sight, feeling a warmth growing in my chest.
I decided now was the time to bring up dating. Nervously, I opened my mouth to begin, but I was interrupted by a soft tune, hummed gently by Lyra. It was simple but sounded sweet and warm, and it made me feel like I was cozying up to the soft heat of a fire on a cold winter's day. Her hooves moved as if she was grasping something, and her horn lit up. After a split second, though, her horn fizzled, and her eyes flew open to stare at her empty hooves, as if she expected her lyre to be in her grasp. She gave me a sheepish smile.
"Where'd you learn that tune?" I asked.
"I...kinda made it up," said Lyra, a blush of embarrassment forming on her cheeks.
"It was great. Does it have any words to go along with it?"
"Well, yes, but they're kind of a work in progress..." She fidgeted in her seat.
"Lyra, don't be so reluctant, I'm sure they're amazing. Would you tell them to me?"
Lyra nodded once eagerly, and she went to nod a second time, but she stopped herself. A blush formed on her cheeks, but with a sigh, she began. Despite her earlier trepidation, she sang in earnest from the beginning, not faltering even once. Her voice was high and sweet, but with an undercurrent of power emphasizing the emotion in her voice.
"Mother, hold me tight
The world was unkind today
She sung the lyrics sadly and slowly, with her eyes closed, but at the same time, she held a comforting smile on her face, as if playing the dual of role of both mother and child.
The flowers withered
And the birds did not take flight
Hold me tight, mother
And let my fear go away
"That's all I have so far. I know they're not great..." said Lyra, her cheeks flushed a light shade of red. I was wowed. With lyrics like that, there was no need for her to be flustered.
"I had no idea you were such a poet, Lyra. Really, that's better than anything I ever thought of." I gave her a smile. I really meant that. She'd had to have gotten some training, or something. It was amazing to think that she might have been born with such a good sense of balladry, kind of like I had. But hers was much stronger. Though, its strange to think that ponies are just born with that, though I have no other explanation for it. Take me, for example. My dad, the only other pony I lived with, spoke only in the most brash of ways. It certainly hadn't been the porn; you might see "I marveled at the stature of his throbbing stallionhood as I begged for him to take me into a paradise of pleasure" in a book, but on tape, you only get "Oh yeah, baby, gimme that big dick!" Maybe I'd gotten it from my mother...?
"Heh," said Lyra, the blush on her cheeks fading. "That's a high compliment from the Poet of Porn."
I guffawed, surprised that Lyra had noticed my tendency toward verbosity. "Good one," I said.
"Hey," said Lyra, a light beginning to shine in her eyes as her mouth dropped open. "Why don't you come to the next reading with me?"
"The next what?" I asked.
Lyra put a hoof to her face in disappointment. "Geez, Sly, you're better at this than I thought if you don't know what a 'reading' is. A reading is where ponies go to read their poems and short stories to a crowd of other ponies. They do one every week at a coffee shop across town. I go to them every Friday night. Fortunately you haven't needed me at the store on Fridays--oh damn, if you go with me, what about the store?"
At that moment, the gears clicked in my mind, and I had to stop myself from just yelling out "Fuck that, let's get on with it!" With difficulty, I put on my best conservative smile. "Nonsense, Lyra, I can close the store for a night. Now that you told me what one of these is, it sounds like something pretty nice."
Lyra gave me a warm smile. "Well, that's great. It always starts at 8:00, so if we leave the shop at 7:30, we should arrive there on time."
"Sounds good," I said, making my way towards the stairs. "Have fun on your shift!"
Lyra nodded. I walked up the stairs and into my flat, and thrust a hoof in the air. I was going on a date with Lyra, and she had asked me out! To tell the truth, I wasn't really sure about this whole poetry thing, but I thought that maybe this might be our common interest. I just hoped that the ponies who went to these readings weren't all stuck up their own asses about how very "serious" and "weighty" their verse was.
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Lyra and I cantered towards the warmly lit windows after a pleasant, but tiring walk. I had simply followed Lyra's lead the whole way, as I had never been to this side of town. The coffee shop seemed nice enough. It was an old brick building that looked like it had been recently renovated, with smooth polished wood bordering the door and windows. The shop's name, The Open Mike, was burned into a large wooden sign above the windows. A small painted logo of a microphone had been painted in below the words. The large windows allowed me a glance at the building's interior, which held a mahogany bar with stools, as well as many round tables, each with four wooden chairs around them. At the far end of the shop stood a wooden stage, with no curtains and only a plain brick wall behind it. A lonely pole stood in the centre of the stage, a microphone resting on top of it. Many ponies were already inside, and I faintly heard the clock tower across town strike eight.
We entered the building, and were instantly greeted by the aroma of cigarettes and ground coffee, as well as a scowling barista. She was an ash grey mare with a dark grey mane and light purple eyes. She had her mane tied up in a bun behind her head, and was wearing glasses, the colour of which matched her eyes. Her cutie mark was...some purple swirly thing. Come on, Celestia, whatever this mark is, it's more uninspired than mine.
Not letting this mare's scowl dissuade her, Lyra cheerfully approached the counter. "Hello again, Octy, how are you doing?"
"Octy" grumbled at what I assumed was her nickname, and muttered something incoherent.
"Great!" said Lyra. "I'll have the usual. A caramel macchiato, 1% milk, only one sugar, hold the foam."
"And what will it be for your beau?" said the mare, revealing a surprising upper-class Canterlot accent.
"Uh..." I said, my eyes darting around the chalkboard menus behind her. I wasn't much of a coffee aficionado, but I didn't want to seem like I knew diddly squat.
The mare barely gave me two seconds. "I haven't got all night," she said haughtily.
"I'll have...the same thing she's having." Whew, nice save.
"Octy" grumbled off, reaching for the cups as Lyra and I sat down at the last empty table. I gave Lyra a look when I saw that she had adopted her usual strange sitting posture. The table's candle gave off an inviting glow, as though to make up for the staff. The attitude of the barista worried me; would everypony here be like that? Looking around, I saw that the majority of ponies had on black-rimmed glasses, and a few were wearing turtlenecks, despite it being a wonderful and warm summer's night. I looked down at a turtleneck-wearer's drink, and was surprised to see that despite the steam coming off of the foamy beverage, a straw had been stuck in it.
"What's with everypony?" I asked.
"Huh? What do you mean?" said Lyra, cocking her head to one side.
"What's with the...turtlenecks, and, uh..."
Lyra shrugged. "Ehh, it's a new trend from Canterlot. Most ponies who come to these things moved from there."
"More importantly, what was with the barista?"
"Oh, Octavia? I'm not exactly sure, but I think she was a cello player in Canterlot a few years ago. I heard she had some bad luck, though, and ended up having to move here like lots of other ponies. Ponyville's housing prices are supposedly 'dirt cheap.'"
I was going to ask what the drink I ordered was like, but the lights suddenly dimmed a bit, making the candle on the table a now less than redundant source of light. A steel blue young stallion, dressed in a turtleneck, glasses, and even a black woolly tuque, approached the microphone onstage.
"Hello again, everypony," said the stallion, his sincere and inviting voice filling the room. "As you all probably know, I'm the owner of this establishment, Blue Moon. And tonight, The Open Mike offers to members of the audience the chance to recite their poems or short stories before their peers. Do I have any ponies who want to read first tonight?"
Instantly, five or six hooves shot up. To my surprise, Lyra's was not one of them.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "You're a great poet. Just recite those lyrics and I bet they'll wow everypony."
Lyra blushed. "I'm still a novice at poetry, Sly. I don't think I can...maybe later..."
Lyra had definitely missed her chance now, with Blue Moon now having chosen a yellow mare with a cropped black mane, glasses in the standard black, and brown eyes. He surrendered the mike to her after informing everypony not to applaud for each individual. "One pony's trash is another pony's treasure," he said.
The mare adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. She began:
"Flower, petals gold
Radiant in estival
Just a weed in fall"
I blinked in puzzlement. Wait, what was that? That wasn't poetry!
The mare bowed her head, and politely walked offstage. Lyra nodded as she stroked her chin with a hoof, and got a faraway look in her eyes. How did she 'get' that?
As soon as the yellow mare walked offstage, hooves once again shot up, many more than the first time. Maybe ponies had been jittery at being the first one onstage? Nevertheless, Blue Moon chose another, and that pony headed for the stage. Hopefully, this poem'll be better than the last one...
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I grumbled as the last pony made his way off the stage. His poem had been yet another of what Lyra had eventually told me were called "haiku." To make it even worse, I hadn't even gotten to hear Lyra recite anything, as she had been too nervous to take the stage. Even the two short stories that had been read weren't very good, and only seemed to serve to pad this event's running time. The clock on the wall now read 10:00, and our caramel whatever-they're-calleds lay finished long ago on the table.
"I trust it isn't like this all the time?" I asked Lyra, choosing my words carefully.
"Most nights it's better, yes. I mean, I like haiku as much as the next pony, but that was a little excessive," said Lyra, smiling sheepishly. "The event's not quite over, though."
"What's left?" I asked.
The sound of somepony clearing his throat turned my attention back to the stage. Blue Moon was once again at the mike. "And now comes the final part of the evening, where we select one random pony in the audience to be our last reader, giving them a chance to be heard in the community, even if they don't think they're up for it yet. Now...which one of you will be the one..."
As Blue Moon's eyes began to scan the audience, Lyra slumped lower in her chair, almost disappearing under the table, illustrating one of the benefits of her posture. I rolled my eyes and leaned over the table.
"Lyra, what are you doing?" I said in a hasty whisper.
"I don't want to get picked!" she said, alarmed. "Get down, Sly! Blue Moon usually picks anypony causing a distur--"
"And, it looks like I've found our lucky pony! You, in the middle with the grey coat and yellow eyes," said Blue Moon, his hoof pointing directly at me.
Seriously? I nervously pointed a hoof at myself, and Blue Moon gave me a sly nod. I sighed, and began my walk up to the stage. Along the way, I felt the prying eyes of everypony I passed. Ugh, stop staring at me, guys! What, is there something in my teeth?...I really hope there isn't...
Blue Moon made room for me onstage as I walked up to the microphone. I looked out over the audience, seeing dozens of pairs of identical thick-rimmed glasses staring back at me, all wondering what my impromptu piece will be. Everypony who'd already been onstage was looking at me with a hint of disgust. What's with you guys? I bet I could do a haiku better than anypony in this room!
Suddenly, a horrible, dastardly idea struck me, and I began:
"Wanting to hear poems
I came; all I heard was shit
Haikus fucking suck"
I stepped away from the mike, and looked over the audience again, this time with a smirk on my face. Some ponies wore an expression of pure shock; others held up their noses at me as if I was a heap of trash. A cricket chirped in the distance. From behind the counter, Octavia shook her head, and I caught Lyra in the process of facehoofing.
I heard a growl from my left. I turned, and was surprised to see an uncharacteristically angry Blue Moon glaring back at me. "Get out of my shop..." he said, his voice laced with malice. I met his gaze and saw the fiery rage in his eyes, and I came to the terrible conclusion that he was dead serious. And that if I didn't get out of here now, I'd just be plain dead.
I dashed off the stage, everypony making a path for me, probably just not wanting to touch me. I heard the noise of a chair falling over, and looked over my shoulder to see Lyra running behind me. When we exited the shop, Octavia came up to the door, holding out a hoof to stop it from swinging on its hinges. She gave Lyra and me a death glare before slamming the door almost hard enough to crack its glass pane.
Then, just when I thought I was safe, Lyra turned on me. "Why'd you have to do that, Sly!?" she yelled, a pained expression on her face.
I defensively raised my hooves. "Wait a second, Lyra! It was all in good fun! Those ponies needed a taste of their own medicine!"
"Yeah, the poems weren't great, but that doesn't mean you go up onstage and insult everypony!"
"Hey, he was the one who called me up!"
"Yeah yeah, big whoop! I'll never be able to get in again!" Lyra threw her hooves up in the air. "Ugh! I'm going home, Sly."
Lyra began to walk away. Dammit! I didn't want it to turn out like that at all. I had been sure that Lyra and I would be laughing our asses off once we got outside...well, there's no way I could make it any worse...
Lyra stopped walking and turned back, hearing my hoofsteps behind her. "Why are you following me, Sly?"
"I'm sorry, Lyra, but you're the only one who knows the way home from here."
"Ugh...fine..."
Truth be told, if I had to, I could probably find my way back, but a plan was taking shape in my mind as we continued walking.
"Y'know," I said. "Your lyrics were better than anything else I heard today."
Lyra didn't respond.
"Those ponies wouldn't know good poetry if it bucked them in the face. They were probably just holding you back."
Lyra turned to face me, and I was saddened to see tears on her cheeks. She sniffed. "Sly, even if that place didn't have the best poets, it was the only place in Ponyville where I could learn about poetry first-hoof."
"And I'm saying that you don't need it! You don't need a bunch of snooty Canterlot ponies telling you what to do. And think about it: they only left Canterlot because they weren't doing well; how can you trust ponies like that to judge you?"
"But then, how will I improve my poetry?"
"I can help you with that. After all, I am the Poet of Porn."
A smile slowly crept back onto Lyra's face. She sighed. "I guess you're better than nothing."
Lyra began to walk again, and I followed, content for now with her mood.
As we passed by the clock tower in the centre of Ponyville, a small laugh escaped Lyra's lips.
"What was that now?" I asked.
"Heh, I guess it was kinda funny. Your haiku, I mean," said Lyra, trying to hold back any more giggles.
I gave her a smug smile. "It was more than 'kinda' funny. Did you see the look on Blue Moon's face?"
"Ha! That was pretty funny. He looked like he was going to kill you!"
"Uh, yeah, that's why I ran!"
Lyra let out a cute series of giggles. "Maybe I will get along fine without 'em," she said, her eyes turned to the stars. "Octavia did always make the milk 2%, give me the standard two sugars, and leave the foam on top anyways."
This time, it was my turn to laugh. After another few minutes of walking, we came to our intersection. To the west was Soresaddle Street, with its abandoned warehouses and half-broken streetlights, with the Mareborough in the distance. To the east ran the much newer Luna's Way, with its newly laid cobblestones, freshly painted park benches, and Lyra's apartment in the distance.
Lyra turned to me. "Well, I guess it's time for us to part ways."
"Yeah," I said. "I guess it is."
"Now that I think about it, Sly, this night turned out alright. If you had just recited a normal, boring poem neither of us would've gone home happy. You probably would've never come back to The Open Mike anyways."
"Heh, yeah, probably not."
Lyra gave me a strange little smile, and her eyelids descended to half-mast. "I guess you deserve a reward for breaking the monotony."
"What are you getting a--"
My question was silenced by Lyra when she pressed her beautiful lips against mine. My eyes shot wide open as Lyra slid hers closed. Her warm, moist lips tasted like coffee, and for a second I just stood there like a foal, too thunderstruck to even consider returning the kiss. As soon as my lips moved against hers, she broke away.
"Sorry, Sly," she said quickly. "I have morning classes, and I need my sleep. We can get together some other time, though. Like maybe my place, to 'help me improve.'"
She gave me a sultry wink, and all I could do was rapidly nod my head like an idiot, any cognitive speech still on hold. Lyra playfully giggled at my display.
"See you tomorrow, Sly!" she said as she trotted away from me, suggestively swaying her hips the whole way. When she finally disappeared from view, I plunked myself down on the ground. My mind started whirling, making me feel like I'd just drunk about a half-dozen beers. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel sweat starting to gather on the back of my neck. I looked down at my hooves, and saw that they were shaking uncontrollably.
I vividly remembered the wonder and joy in Rainbow's eyes as Fluttershy had kissed her. So this is what she'd been feeling.
I lifted my quivering hooves up to my muzzle. As I contemplated them, a big grin started to stretch across my face. Involuntarily, a nervous laugh escaped my lips. A giddy lightness spread through me, and I couldn't hold the feeling inside for a moment longer. I threw my head back and thrust my hooves into the air as I let out an ear-shattering whoop that must've woken half the town. "FUCK YEAH!"
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Author's Note
Here's the eagerly awaited next chapter, I hoped you all liked it. You guys were lucky that you wanted Slyra shipping (seriously, I'm the first one to think of this?), cause you sure as hell got it. They're such a cute couple :3.
I wonder what you guys'll think of how I portrayed Octavia. She wasn't gonna be the barista at first, actually. When I tried to imagine how the barista looked when I was writing this though, going for somepony that looked like Julie Powers from Scott Pilgrim, I just ended up with Octavia with a different hair style, and I was like "Sure, why not! I can put a bitchy spin on Octavia; it worked with Bon Bon." Too bad, though, that she's not doing too well while Vinyl Scratch is still
jamming away at parties, as mentioned in Chapter 6. What's with me and breaking up fanon pairings? Don't get me wrong, lesbians are awesome!
If anyone is obsessed with knowing what day of the week it is in every chapter (like me), then check out this calendar I made to help myself, the prereaders, and everyone with that. Eight chapters, and only two weeks have gone by there. And while I'm at it, someone asked me for a description of the Hard Cider, along with a description of the Knife and Apple a while back, and I was more then happy to help, going so far as to draw this shitty-looking diagram of the bar, with notes and without.
In other news, Peanut has released the second chapter of Triple X on audiobook, and also, fanart by Defender.
Now that all that's over with, I have a bit of news that some of you might not like too much. After listening to Chapters 1 and 2 on audiobook, I really couldn't stop myself from grimacing at some of what I wrote back then, how I just ran rampant with the tenses, and wrote a few things that sounded very strange when spoken out loud; if you listen to Chapter 2 while having the document open, you can see that Peanut even had to rephrase a few of my sentences to make everything sound fine. This has all lead me to deciding that I'll be doing a minor rewrite of Chapters 1-3, and possibly 4 and 5. This means that the next chapter will probably take even longer to be finished. Hopefully, this won't take too long, but you never know. When the rewrites come out, don't feel compelled that you need to read them if you don't want to. We'll only be tightening up screws, and the like, though if you do choose to read them, you might enjoy them even more than the first time. I'll also put a new author's note at the end of each, if I feel like talking about anything.
I'm really happy that I'm doing this, though. Hopefully, if this story was on the cusp of greatness in your mind, this'll make it go over. And hey, if not, at least I'll be able to fill that tiny plothole (Sly saying his TV has four channels in Chapter 1, and then flipping through five in Chapter 2. And no, for once, I didn't mean anything else with that statement. Get your head out of the gutter.), and correct that typo at the end of Chapter 2. And don't worry about the audiobook, Peanut was the first guy I talked to about this, and he said he'd be fine doing the first two chapters again.
So...yeah. Hope you guys don't turn into an angry mob, or anything. See you soon.
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Love the chapter also first
344009 I'd prefer if you actually read it first.
344015
ICE BURN
Midnight. Update. Well, less sleep tonight!
Sex, imenint.
HA, hipster ponies.
by the way, Sly's Haiku was gold!
Remember that episode of futurama where Fry and Amy make out at mars on valentines day
Well.... Oh-ho-ho!
If I was placed in Sly's position at that reading, I whould have probably done something similar. All in all, I am liking this story more and more. Keep up the writings.
RESISTANCE TO RESIST WARM, FUZZY FEELING INSIDE IS FUTILE!
MUST SCREAM WITH GLEE!
FFFFUFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Best haiku ever.
DAT HAIKU! If he came up with that on the spot, not knowing what a haiku was before the night, he is the poet of porn.
I have to say, I am disappoint. Tavi broke my heart with her bitchiness.
Alllright! At first I saw Sly being all introspective and I was all "who this pony?" Then he went to the hipster joint and I was like "Aww yeah! Back in full force". And Octavia... this might be my favorite 'Tavia yet.
Also, I, for one, love it when an author has Out of Fanon characters. Don't restrict yourself to use the same characterization just because 95% of the fanon has. That's a big reason I love this fic. Lyra without waifu/BFF Bon Bon? 'Tavia possibly never even knowing who Vinyl is? Thank you.
344015 Eagerly awaiting for Sly X Lyra cuddly moment.
CUDDLY
My god. If I ever have to do an impromptu haiku, I am definitely doing that.Sly is most boss-est pony ever.
no exceptions.
This chapter pleases me
I like the chapter alot, and I love the story, there is just one thing thats bugging me, the name of the bar should be "The Open Mic." Mic is the shortened version of microphone. Mike is a name. Sorry, its the A/V tech/grammar nazi in me. I am surprised at how tastefully well done this story is despite its risque nature. You get a well deserved thumbs up.
It's so strange... maybe I'm crazy, but the writing actually seemed to become more natural once it shifted away from the mane 6. IMO the first few paragraphs described too much emotion, too quickly. It just felt awkward; especially Sly's speech.
That being said, the rest of the chapter was very good. The haiku made me laugh. Ah, shenanigans. The "public shocker" is always funny.
But Tavi as Julie Powers?
Not that I really care, like, at all. 
I made an account just to track this story and tell you its my favorite fanfic so far! I really didn't like the last chapter, but you played off most of the flaws in this chapter! You have an awesome skill of making the last words of each chapter so bucking hilarious! Do what you do. Either way it will be epic!
344312 Despite improper grammar and all, I've heard both used. And "Mike" just looks better on a sign.
That haiku is exactly the kind i would do. In fact, i have a report on poetry soon and might just have to use that haiku.
LYRRRRAAA-
*Sly's last line*
Fun piece. Though I always worry about sudden romances. They work great in fiction, not so great in real life.
>>going for somepony that looked like Julie Powers from Scott Pilgrim
YES
Also, Sly's haiku goes 6-7-5, lol.
My parents got woken up by the sound of me falling out of bed laughing so hard!
God don't stop with this, its to good!
My parents got woken up by the sound of me falling out of bed laughing so hard!
God don't stop with this, its to good!
344312 344361 Technically, mic is the physical object and mike is what you do to a person (you mike them up with a mic), but I see your point. Also, if you are a grammar nazi, how could you miss 'alot'? Or, for that matter, your entire first sentence? Sorry, but my internal grammarian can't let that one slide.
If there is an angry mob i wont be part of it.
Cause i loved this chapter!
Personally I love the way Octy was played out as. Angry at why she is there and just bitter.
And slyra.
And the ending FUCKYEAH!
It was just great.
I await the next chapter with eager hand-er...Hooves.
Honestly, I was hoping that Sly would recite Lyra's lyrics and prove her wrong... but I think the way you handled it was better. This way they have Friday nights free together.
An update of gold
Sly's haiku, my night's highlight
Refrigerator
More quality writing, the perfect counterpoint to some of the other stuff I've read this evening. Thank you, based ElMikkino.
344312
I, too am a fan of the magical Chapter Alot, the large brown creature that takes the chapters that ElMikkino publishes and makes them visible on this website.
344312 I found myself asking "mic or mike" some time back, and so I did some research. The upshot is, there are compelling linguistic and grammatical reasons to prefer "mike" over "mic," regardless of the abbreviation used on audio engineers' equipment.
The primary source I found: http://www.sambayer.com/tirades/whymike.html
mmm, poet club
Haikus are quite fun.
They don't always make much sense.
Refrigerator.
Yay! Update. Another good chapter, you have pleased the collective. We hereby
Declare!
ponychan.net/chan/themes/src/131405565382.png
345115 ...To talk about nothing really that important. Get your head out of the gutter, man!
344590 "Poems" can be pronounced in two syllables, or one.
the irony that he expressed how much he hated haiku with a haiku
The only haikus I ever loved,
Were the ones by NSP. Here's a link.
Refrigerator.
Great chapter. Especially liked how you broke from fanon (BonBon x Lyra; Vinyl x Octavia).
Another amazing chapter as always. Can't wait for the next one, though I suppose I'll have to
Spent my morning reading this story, then finished it just now after lunch. You Mr.Author are a GENIUS! There's something really endearing and ultimately lovable about Sly. It's nice to see Background and mane characters portrayed more realistically than they normally are. Characters like Sly are really easy to latch on to, he's my favourite Slacker Pony on the way to improving his life
.
How I imagined the Knife and Apple was kinda close to the diagram. Though I think I imagined it a bit smaller. Still, thanks for that!
Yay
And now that is more like it! Well done indeed sir.
I liked how you portrayed octavia. It would maybe be fun to see something more of her of how she makes do. Sort of similar to how you used rainbow dash :)
>That feel when you look at the Author's Note and subsconsciously think it's longer than the whole damn fanfic itself.
Was good.
Long awaited update + first date..? :fuckyeahface:
Breaking up Octavinyl and minuscule errors that I hadn't really noticed?
Rabble Rabble Rabble! (Just kidding..)
sodblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/rabble.jpg
I like haiku's myself.
I also like this story quite a bit. I'll be patiently waiting for the next chapter.
You never fail to impress and exceed the last chapter
Well I dont need sleep anyways
Why would we become an angry mo- *goes forward in time and learns chapter won't be released for a week or two*
GET HIM!
Great read, and keep it up. And no, I don't need to say why it's great, because you need to form your own opinions on this marvelous tale.