Under the dim streetlights, on the terrace of a quiet café across from Canterlot Castle, Octavia sat quietly, sipping her earl grey while her roommate downed another Red Pegasus.
Vinyl Scratch stared at her roommate. Octavia looked exceptionally disheveled this morning; her mane was completely unbrushed, her signature bow tie was askew and undone. And the mare had sauntered (Vinyl had never seen Octavia saunter!) up to the café wearing the most curious smirk across her face.
They had sat in silence for several minutes (as usually happened when Octavia chose to be infuriatingly quiet), before Vinyl finally decided to voice her inquiry.
<What did you get up to last night?> she gestured wildly. <You never came back to the hotel room!>
Octavia’s smirk grew exponentially.
9:45 PM
I carefully packed my cello and bow away, thankful that our quartet had finished for the evening. Frederick and Harpo had left, together, and Lyra had conspicuously disappeared after a brief word with one of the Princesses.
I hadn’t heard the exact details, but I did overhear something about a private show for Luna, and there was a lot of blushing and nervous shuffling on Lyra’s part. I’d have to ask her lat—
<Wait, Lyra and Luna?>
Yes, Vinyl, but this story is about me. We can get the lurid details of Lyra’s tryst from her… or Bon Bon… later. This story is about my night. Now, where was I—
I had carefully packed away my instrument, and was about to hit the refreshment table, when the most handsome young stallion came up to me to compliment my playing.
Oh, Vinyl, he was the most adorable thing ever. I swear, I could see his blush even through his flight suit.
<Flight suit?>
Oh, yes, he was a Wonderbolt. Did I not mention that already?
<You most certainly bucking didn’t!>
Vinyl, do you kiss your mother with those hooves?
<Hey! Leave my Neigh Jersey upbringing outta this!>
Anyway, yes, he was a Wonderbolt. Very dashing stallion, though amazingly shy. He kept tripping over his words, it was adorable.
I would have thought a Wonderbolt would have had more confidence than that, but I suppose not all of us can be so charming.
<Not all of the Wonderbolts are seasoned, some are pretty green!>
Very true.
His boss—the fire-maned one—called him back, and the stallion had this lost little puppy look in his eyes. I told him to meet me back at the refreshments table when he was finished.
I watched him as he cantered back towards his teammates, and headed to the bar. Even if the stallion didn’t get the nerve to come back over, I would at least be able to enjoy that sight walking away.
10:15 PM
It was pretty quiet at the refreshment table. I was pleasantly surprised to see Berry Punch tending to the guests, as that mare certainly knew her spirits.
I gave our fellow Ponyvillian a nod, and sat down at the counter. Vinyl, you would not believe what Berry pulled out for me.
“Woodford Reserve Classic Malt—neat—for the lady?” she asked me with a wink.
“You sure know how to charm a lady,” I replied with a giggle. She poured a tumbler for me, and left the bottle. Vinyl, I absolutely must remember to thank her when we return to Ponyville… do not let me forget!
So finally the cute stallion returned. I will admit, I didn’t recognise him first, as he had slipped out of that wonderfully tight uniform.
“M-Miss Octavia?” he practically whispered as he sat down next to me.
“Ahh, you’ve returned,” I replied, smiling at him. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, no doubt the effect of the three tumblers I’d already finished.
I motioned for Berry to bring me another glass, and poured the stallion a drink.
“I’m sorry, but you have me at a slight disadvantage, sir,” I said to him. “For while you know my name, I am unfamiliar with yours.”
He murmured something I couldn’t pick out, so I pushed the tumbler towards him.
“Drink up, then speak up, my dear,” I told him. “It does not behoove such a cute stallion to be so soft-spoken.”
Vinyl, I could have sworn that this stallion could not get any more adorable, but I was proven wrong. Calling him cute—which he most undoubtedly was—flustered the poor dear even more.
“S-Soarin,” he replied. “My name’s Soarin.”
<SOARIN! HOW CAN YOU NOT BUCKING KNOW WHO SOARIN IS?>
Ahh, yes, well, he too was quite surprised. Apparently he is some big-wig amongst the ‘Bolts, or so he told me.
Vinyl, what’s the matter? Are you having a seizure? Do you need me to find a doctor?
<Just… just get on with your story.>
10:42 PM
“Yeah, I know most of my teammates prefer Rock’n’Roll for our airshows, or some of the newer music… but I’ve always been a fan of classical music.”
“Really?” I asked, quite surprised.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I mean, can you imagine an air show set to Ritt der Walküren?”
I couldn’t, to be honest—you know I’ve never been one for sporting events—but the earnestness on his face told me I would likely agree with him, so I nodded.
“But yeah, most of the ‘Bolts aren’t interested in classical music. They say that stuff’s for the snobs in Canterlot.”
“It’s true, my profession certainly does tend to be associated with the Canterlot Elite.” I couldn’t help but smirk. “But I certainly have to admit I am not afraid to mix genres and expectations.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, my roommate and I experiment quite often.”
The poor stallion turned beet red.
“Not like that, you pervert,” I laughed, prodding him in the chest.
<Gross!>
Yes, yes! I know, Vinyl. You’ve made that abundantly clear!
“My roommate is a DJ, perhaps you’ve also heard of her? DJ PON3?”
“Uhh, not really.” Soarin rubbed the back of his head, avoiding eye contact, before looking back up. “But I think I’ve heard Fleetfoot mention him. I think she’s one of his fans.”
<Him? HIM? He thinks I’m a—>
Vinyl, calm down…
<Wait! Fleetfoot’s a fan? FLEETFOOT’S A FAN!>
Vinyl, put me down, please!
<FLEETFOOT’S A FAN! OH CELESTIA! FLEETFOOT IS ONE OF MY FANS!>
Yes, well… no more Red Pegasus for you, as you’ve clearly had too much.
11:20 PM
“Woodford Reserve Classic Malt, neat, thank you.”
“Sorry, Your Highness, we’re all out.”
I nervously eyed the bottle that Soarin and I had finished. Now, you know me… normally I wouldn’t care about beating somepony to the punch when it comes to fine whiskey, but this was Princess Celestia!
I could feel it, as she slowly swung towards us.
She knew, Vinyl. She knew!
So it was with the utmost care and planning and quick witted thinking that I came up with a distraction.
<You mean you panicked, right?>
Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe!
I mashed my lips against Soarin’s, who had his back to the princess, and passionately kissed him. In my haste, I kind of… knocked the empty bottle over the back of the counter.
“That’s it, Tavi, I’m cutting you off.”
I gave a weak smile towards Berry, who seemed to be sweating nervously.
“Sorry, Berry. I’ll see you back in Ponyville.” I nudged the stunned stallion off the barstool. “Meanwhile, I think this handsome stallion and I will find somewhere else to keep the party going.
“Your Highness,” I said, bowing ever so slightly.
She may have bid us goodbye, or may have grumbled something about everypony getting a booty call except for her last night, but I didn’t want to stick around to find out.
“Ummm, Octavia, did you, umm…”
I had forgotten about the stallion I had dragged off.
“I’m sorry, Soarin, things were just getting a little awkward there, so I thought it best we leave.”
“So, you, ummm, you didn’t want to…”
Oh Vinyl, seeing him blush while asking me was so cute, I couldn’t help myself.
“Well, if you are interested,” I said with a smirk on my face, “I would certainly be amenable to it.”
“Oh, okay, sorry I—wait! You’re interested.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, okay. Wow. Okay.” I watched as he shuffled nervously. “I need to get some things from my room, if that’s okay.”
“Some things?” I asked, raising an eyebrow just to watch him blush again.
“Yeah, I need to get some, uhh, <prench cuisine>.”
<Prench Cuisine?>
Yeah, he kept saying <prench cuisine>.
<I don’t think that’s what he was trying to say, Octy.>
Neither do I… else he is pretty terrible at ESL. Thank Celestia he made up for it with his hooves in other ways.
I followed him up a few flights of stairs to his room. I hadn’t realised he was staying at the castle!
It wasn’t until he opened his door that we noticed several lights were still on.
“Told ya he was chasing a bit of ‘pie’,” one of the stallions laughed. “Pay up, Fleet.”
“Hey, Soarin, if you were bringing her back to share, I don’t think Spitfire’d approve.”
“What, I didn’t… Octavia, I promise, I didn’t mean—”
I looked around the room. Two other stallions were awake, playing a game of cards, and the mare—Fleetfoot, I presumed, if her nickname was any indication—was lying on a bed trying to get free from somepony’s grip.
“Well, I wouldn’t say no, if that is what you were worried about.”
Silence filled the room, Vinyl. You could have heard a pin drop, if it wasn’t for the fire-mane’s snoring.
It was Fleetfoot who broke the silence first.
“I’m game, if you guys are.”
“Uhhh, I… umm… wouldn’t say no,” one of the stallions said, putting his cards down.
“I mean, it might be a good team bonding exercise… and Spitfire’s always talking to us about team bonding.”
All eyes, including my own, turned towards Soarin.
“I’m not sure if… well, umm, as vice-captain… uhhh.” He trailed off. “You guys would really want to… you know?”
The two stallions looked at each other, then at Fleetfoot, then at myself, and shrugged.
“Sure, why not?” they replied in creepy unison.
“We’d… we’d have to see each other… you know…” Soarin whispered, “naked.”
“Uhhh, dude,” one stallion said.
“We see each other naked all the time.”
12:11 AM
After prying Fleetfoot from… oh, wait! Vinyl, you’ll never guess who was in Fleetfoot’s bed… Fluttershy!
<No way! No bucking way! Shut your muzzle, you’re lying!>
A lady never lies. Embelishes, a little, but never lies.
<Seriously, like, Pinkie Promise swear?>
Pinkie Promise swear!
<Wow! It’s always the quiet ones, I guess.>
So as I was saying, after we pried Fleetfoot away from Fluttershy, we needed to find an empty room. I mean, I didn’t want to bring nearly an entire sporting team back to our hotel room… you’ve made that abundantly clear that is not okay in the past.
We were trying to find a room, most of them were either locked, or occupied.
I was about to give up when we found one room that seemed empty. We snuck in and locked the door behind us.
Fleetfoot rushed and jumped on the bed, quickly followed by the stallion with the orange mane.
<Fire Streak!>
Yes, I believe that was his name.
<OCTY! You had a three—uhh—fivesome with the Wonderbolts… and you don’t even remember their names?>
Oh, I’m sorry, how many ménages have you been involved in?
No? Nothing.
Then I’ll ask you not to criticize.
Besides, it wasn’t a fivesome. It was a sevensome… which I guess at that point it’s just become an orgy.
<SEVEN?>
Yes, as I was saying…
12:23 AM
“Oh, dear,” a familiar voice muttered as the door to the ensuite opened.
“Wmf wmng, drrr?” another—distinctly muffled—voice asked.
“We, umm, we seem to have guests.”
I lifted my head from where I was occupied, and espied two familiar figures.
“Mrs Cake? And …” I looked to the stallion in the full body gimp suit. “Mr Cake, I presume.”
Mrs Cake nodded.
“Umm, not to sound rude, but, ummm, what are you doing in our bed?” she asked.
“Oh, terribly sorry,” I replied. “We thought this room was empty. Didn’t know you were staying here.”
“Yes, well, since Fluttershy never returned, we thought we might… well.” She motioned with her head to her husband.
“Ahh, say no more,” I replied, smiling. Those two had their hooves full with the twins most of the time, I could understand them wanting to blow off a little steam when they could. “We’ll find another room, and be out of your manes.”
“You… you don’t have to leave,” Mrs Cake replied. “You’re… you’re welcome to join us, if you want.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea,” I replied, before returning to my meal.
“Hmmmy, whmf hrrr?”
“Who said you could ask questions, slave?” The crack of a crop reverberated through the room. “Now, lick your mistress’s boots!”
Now
<No way! I don’t believe you! Not possible, no way, you’re making things up!>
Octavia raised her hoof a little to wave as a couple trotted towards them.
“Oh, good morning Octavia. Lovely to see you this morning,” Mr Cake greeted, smiling at the pair.
“Thank you for your help last night, Octavia,” Mrs Cake said, her face a little flush. “You must stop by the bakery for… uhh… dessert one night, if we can get Pinkie to look after the twins. Maybe you could bring your friend here?”
“I’m not sure if Vinyl would be interested,” Octavia replied with a wink. “but I for one am looking forward to eating more of your warm pie.”
Mr Cake laughed, as his wife let out a quiet eep. He put his arm around her, and bid Octavia and her friend good bye.
<Okay, no! I know the Cakes, they’re married.>
“They’re earth ponies… who have pegasus and unicorn twins,” Octavia replied with a smirk.
<Means nothing!>
Octavia just raised her eyebrow.
<Okay, so maybe Fluttershy is into some weird stuff, and maybe the Cakes are into some weird kink, but that doesn’t mean you bedded the Wonder—>
Vinyl stopped flailing her hooves around when she noticed the Wonderbolts following Spitfire out of the castle gates. Soarin noticed Octavia, and gave a sheepish wave. Octavia blew several kisses back, while Wave Chill and Fire Streak winked.
Fleetfoot took to the air and bent her back to her tail, demonstrating her superior flexibility, before waving to Octavia as all five trotted off.
<No way! No bucking way! Octavia, you are the goddess of swag. I will never doubt you again!>
Octavia smiled, and resumed drinking her now lukewarm tea.
A sharp prod to her side woke her from her reverie.
<Tavi! Look over there!>
Octavia looked to where Vinyl was pointing. The two of them saw Lyra slinking out of the castle, looking around nervously before darting down the road.
“Ahhh, the walk of shame.”
<I wonder if that’s why the sun isn’t up yet.>
Octavia looked to the mid-morning sky, where the moon still sat high.