//------------------------------// // Interlude 1 - Doorbells and Flowerbeds // Story: Pretence // by Kapuchu //------------------------------// Dear Ivory Rose and Chime Thank you for writing, and sorry for not writing in return. It was not because I was busy, but simply because I had forgotten about it. Our last exchange of letters happened several weeks ago and I simply forgot about it. My apologies. In a different note, I haven’t found a fillyfriend for myself—regrettably. Romance isn’t really that important to me at the moment, but I still do miss having somepony to share a bed with. Sleeping only, Mother; not everything has to be about sex you gutter-brain. But no, I don’t have a fillyfriend. On the other hand, however, I have made a new friend lately. Her name is Vinyl Scratch. She is very friendly, if a little odd every now and then. I do like her, though, as she somehow makes me smile without even trying. I’m sure you remember Lyra from my university time. I didn’t talk much with her then, but I did a little. I met Vinyl through her, as I came across her mother during a concert by Melodia Allegrezza, and while I didn’t know who she was to begin with I soon found out. After the concert she led me backstage where she introduced me to Lyra. We talked for a bit before she invited me out to a club—yes, I went to a club. You can tease me about it when I visit next—where she introduced me to Vinyl Scratch. She was, as I said, kind. The night was definitely fun, and I did enjoy it. The next day we also met up and practiced together—she’s a musician, too—and I realised that music isn’t just wooden instruments with strings and bows, but can also be made with electronics. Strange, I know, but it was an entertaining day. We ended the day with a trip to a nearby café where we had something called a red salad. I should see if I could get the recipe and give it to you; it’s really good. Sadly, she had to go early as a friend of her’s got hurt. I think that’s about all I have to say. I’m looking forward to hearing from you— “—Love from your Little Filly, Octavia.” Ivory Rose finished and looked up from the letter, chuckling as she shook her head. “Sounds a lot like our little girl, eh, Chime?” The pale blue—almost lavender—pegasus mare sitting across from Ivory met her smile with one of her own, brushing a lock of cornflower yellow hair out of her hair. They were sitting on opposite sides of their kitchen table, reading the much-awaited letter their daughter had sent them. It had been, much as Octavia pointed out in her message, weeks since they had last communicated, and so it had been with much excitement that they found a reply in their letterbox earlier that day. “It does. Though I have to wonder… I’m not the only one who’s not entirely sure that she’s telling the entire truth with this Vinyl, am I?” Ivory Rose—an ice-blue pegasus mare with a mane and tail of a few shades darker—looked down to read the part where Vinyl was mentioned once again. An even wider smile than before spread across her lips, the morning light almost blinding Chime as it reflected off of the other’s teeth. “Oh, yes it does.” She looked up at her wife through her lashes, the smile still present. “Octavia never went to a club, not even when Harpo bugged her about it a couple years ago. Takes a special kind of lady to catch our filly’s attention like that.” “Couldn’t agree more. What about that red salad, though? Sounds… interesting.” Ivory looked pensive for a moment, placing the letter on the table again. “Caesar salad properly stabbed and covered in ketchup?” She suggested, for which she was rewarded with a judgemental glower. “Of all the things…” The pale-blue mare had not the decency to look apologetic, instead offering a completely unrepentant grin. “That’s what you married me for, Ding-Dong.” The glare Ivory received could have melted steel. “I told you not to call me that.” “But it’s a-door-a-bell!” Ivory Rose insisted, making an attempt at the puppy eyes. Unfortunately for her, the only one who had ever shown herself capable of utilizing that skill to any effect against Chime was Octavia, and then only because she had been utterly adorable as a child. A fact she was quickly reminded of when the flyswatter came crashing down on her snout, making her flinch back more in surprise than pain. “Ow.” “And that’s what you get for using that horrible nickname of yours, Rose,” Chime said smugly, leaning back in her chair with as self-satisfied a smirk as she could manage. “But that aside. What do you think of Vinyl? She sounds nice.” A nod. “She does. Maybe someone who can make Octavia break out of her shell? You know she’s always been rather selective with her friends. Harpo is an exception to the rule, but… yeah.” A few moments of pause followed, the both of them looking out their window and into their garden; a rather modest affair with a few flowerbeds and a simple lawn, separated from the house proper with a stone tiled terrace. A few birds flew by, a few landing amidst their flowers to pick at the ground. Chime was the first to break the silence, a thoughtful look on her face that soon became a more hopeful one as she glanced down at the letter, and then back across the table. “We should visit her soon, shouldn’t we?” Ivory, meeting her wife’s eyes, smiled once more, and nodded. “We should. But—” she raised a hoof, as if to make a very serious point. “I get to press the ding-dong.”