//------------------------------// // Let the Good Times Roll // Story: Fun With Changelings // by Shukumei //------------------------------// “Would you two QUIT IT?!” Octavia snapped, causing both Vinyl and Wubsy to flinch. The two stared at the livid earth pony, perplexed by her sudden outburst. “Neither one of you seem to grasp the gravity of the situation! You’re so busy goofing around and playing pranks that you leave all the important things to me! Things like keeping your flanks safe!” The pair watched as Octavia turned around and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Wubsy looked at Vinyl apprehensively. “You don’t think we went too far, do you? Maybe we should go after her.” The white unicorn shook her head. “Nah, this is just her style. If she doesn’t have a really good shout at me about once or twice a week, she doesn’t feel like herself. She’ll cool off while she’s out and be fine by the time she gets back.” Wubsy’s brow (or rather, Carrot Top’s brow) furrowed anxiously as she glanced back at the door. “Well... if you’re sure.” “Of course I’m sure. Now let’s see what we’ve got in the kitchen.” The changeling acquiesced to the suggestion, casting one last fretful look at the door before joining Vinyl. There the unicorn was busily throwing open cupboards, taking stock of their options for snacks. “Wow. Good thing Tavi went out for grub, ‘cause this place is bare. That reminds me: I know changelings survive on love, but can you eat actual food?” Wubsy nodded. “Yeah, we can eat. If we’re going around posing as other ponies, it would seem odd if that pony suddenly stopped eating, right? We can digest food, it just doesn’t give us any genuine nourishment.” The DJ thought for a second. “Makes sense to me.” She reached towards the refrigerator, throwing the door open wide. There, Wubsy glimpsed six bottles of the Apple Family cider. “All right! I thought I drank this ages ago. You should get a kick out of this.” At that, Vinyl reached behind the chilled cider and instead pulled out a bottle of Gray Horse. Wubsy cocked her head. “What is it?” “It’s vodka! I think you’re really gonna love the stuff because even if it doesn’t do anything for changelings, I get really affectionate when I drink. You’ll still get a nice treat.” Vinyl set out some rather large shot glasses and began to pour the crystal clear liquid. The changeling cautiously accepted the drink that Vinyl offered her, sniffing near the top of the glass. “I wouldn’t suggest nursing it, it’s got one hell of a bite. Best to just throw it back in one gulp.” Wubsy nodded and brought the glass to her lips, taking Vinyl’s sage advice and gulping it down as fast as possible. It was like tipping a glass of fire down her throat. The insectile equine, unfamiliar with this new sensation, coughed and wheezed as the liquid poured down her gullet and made camp in the pit of her stomach. By the end of the struggle to hold her liquor, Wubsy’s disguise had been lost—most likely due to the immense coughing. Vinyl chuckled and downed her shot with a shake of her head. “Yeah, it’s pretty rough. But I’m betting in about fifteen minutes you’ll love the stuff like nothing else, and in about eight or nine hours you’ll hate it like poison. Here, have another.” --- A half hour later found the two ponies completely trashed. Vinyl had scrounged up a half bottle of Coltreau and some of Octavia’s cranberry juice, and she set about mixing cosmoponitans for her pet’s more delicate palate. She had indulged in a few of the cocktails herself, but mostly stuck to straight vodka shots. Now she sat by the turntables she had transferred to the living room. (She hoped that Tavi wouldn’t be too mad about the vase she had smashed bringing it in... or the lamp... or that weird glass sculpture thing she had brought home from Trottingham.) She watched happily as the inebriated changeling stumbled around the room; every few steps Wubsy would hiccup, causing her to cycle through forms at random. Vinyl was well aware that the insect was consciously changing for her amusement; she couldn't deny, however, that it was working. “Alright! Sit down riiiiiight here. I wanna play something for you and see how you like it.” Vinyl instructed, slurring her speech as she did so. Wubsy turned to the DJ and released another hic, spontaneously switching from Bon-bon to Granny Smith. The wizened old mare took the indicated spot on the floor and looked to Vinyl expectantly. “I’m guessing there’s not a lot of music in changeling society, so I think this oughta be a real treat.” With this introduction, the DJ donned her headphones and selected a record. She tried and failed to set the record on the spindle a few times. Finally, she accomplished her goal on the fourth attempt by closing one eye and using both hooves to maneuver the disk in place. The huge speakers crackled with the tiniest whisper as she cranked the volume to its maximum. “Alright. This is one I mixed for yesterday’s wedding, so I guess you’ll be the first to hear it.” She fumbled with the stylus head for a moment and grinned in triumph as it settled into the groove. “Okay, listen to this!” Vinyl shouted as she slammed the play button, almost certain she heard the sound of a door opening as the record began spinning. A surprised yelp called her attention to the door, but when she looked over at it there was nopony there. Admittedly the door was standing open, but the reason why was unclear. She simply shrugged and began to play with the complex sound system, pouring the thumping melody out of the speakers for her pet’s enjoyment. Wubsy reveled in the private performance. She sat on the floor, her guises abandoned, as she listened with rapt attention to the thundering beat. Her eyes were pasted firmly (if somewhat blearily) on her beloved Vinyl who was laboring over the records with passion and dexterity. Truly, the changeling wordlessly mused to itself this was an amazing mare. Vinyl played to her fullest for her enraptured audience of one, and was just building to an ear-thudding climax when suddenly the room went completely silent. Vinyl fiddled with the knobs and switches of the device, trying to coax life back into it when the sound of a throat clearing behind her made her freeze. Octavia stood with the master plug to the system held in her mouth. Her mane was wild and turbulent, showing every sign of her having fought through the torrent of sound to reach the plug. This was in contradiction to the mare’s face, which was the picture of bemused calm. “Oh... hey there, Tavi,” Vinyl chuckled nervously. “Have a good walk?” Tavi dropped the plug, her voice like a scalpel sitting on an ornate pillow: calm and peaceful but also sharp and purposeful with the potential to become very dangerous very quickly. “Yes, Vinyl, it was a very nice walk. I had a good deal of time to sort things out for myself. And being blasted out of my own house by a sudden explosion of your cacophonous noise helped me sort them out even further. So I have come to a conclusion. Would you please join Wubsy on the floor? I have an announcement to make.” Vinyl did as she was told, the hard edge in her marefriend’s voice cutting through her sussed state of mind and giving her at least the semblance of sobriety for the moment. “You, Vinyl, are irresponsible, immature, unmotivated, and utterly infuriating. What’s more is you’re corrupting Wubsy to be much the same. And I have decided—” Octavia suddenly lunged at the two of them. Vinyl closed her eyes and flinched, braced for a physical blow. Instead, she felt Octavia’s hooves wrapped around her torso. She opened her eyes and found the gray mare had pulled them both into a group hug. “—that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Octavia intoned quietly, her voice melting. She released the two ponies and faced Vinyl directly, and began carefully reciting the apology she had crafted. “Vinyl, I owe the two of you an apology. I acted like—” Octavia’s cautiously orchestrated bid for forgiveness was interrupted when Vinyl covered her marefriend’s mouth with her own. Octavia let her apology trail off and instead closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, ignoring the taste and smell of alcohol. She briefly reflected on how lucky she was to have somepony who understood her so well and loved her so deeply. How could she have ever thought Vinyl would leave her? But as even the greatest kisses must, this one ended. Far too soon, though, for Octavia’s taste; then again, she probably could have lived in that kiss for eternity. She was starting to understand how changelings could survive off of love. It was a sublimely fulfilling force. “Well then.” Octavia cleared her throat and straightened her mane. “That seems to be straightened out.” She licked the taste of alcohol and unicorn off her lips. “I see you’ve been drinking, Vinyl.” “And I’m not the only one.” The white mare nudged Wubsy’s chitinous side and the changeling’s mouth stretched into a wide, fanged grin. “She’s a real lush,” Vinyl continued. “Just add a little sweetness to it and she pounds them down like water.” Octavia nodded and surveyed the room, taking in the open bottles on the table. “Well since you are using my cranberry juice, I suppose I may as well reap some of the benefits. And from the looks of you—” Wubsy suddenly fell over on her side, scrambling to pull herself upright as Vinyl chuckled at her consternation. Octavia continued. “—I have a lot of catching up to do. Vinyl. Would you mix me some drinks please?” Vinyl smirked. “It would be my pleasure.” She made her way to the table and began her alchemy. The cellist headed toward the kitchen. “Thank you. I’ll be in here making salad. I bought you some calla lilies. You’ll have to excuse the fact that they’re a little bruised—I took a spill on the way back, you see.” It wasn’t long before a party spontaneously broke out. Octavia brought out the simple yet delicious calla lily salad, and all three ponies enjoyed it thoroughly. Vinyl popped out for a few minutes to Berry Punch’s shop to refresh their store of spirits, and by the time she returned Octavia was well caught up. Vinyl noticed Wubsy had prepared her several cocktails, apparently mimicking how Vinyl had prepared them earlier. They enjoyed some very tasty (if somewhat squashed) cupcakes and generally laughed and talked well into the night. All in all, it was a pleasant celebration. Soon enough however, Vinyl retired to the bedroom to sleep off the massive dose of alcohol coursing through her veins. Wubsy (in her natural form) and Octavia were therefore left alone, and before long Octavia felt a hint of guilt surfacing once again. “Wubsy. I know Vinyl accepted my apology, but I never had the opportunity to apologize to you. I wanted to take that opportunity now.” An almost insulted look crossed Wubsy’s face and she balked, unable to voice her protest that no apology was needed. Even without words, Octavia knew what she was saying and motioned her for silence. “I know what you’re trying to say, and I would feel better about this if you would humor me and allow me to voice my feelings on the matter. I would also like it if you could become a pony more capable of carrying on a discussion.” “Of course, Octavia,” said Twilight as she emerged from a swirl of green flame. “Please. I want to hear what you have to say.” The cellist heaved a great sigh, sharply increasing the alcohol content of the air around her. “Wubsy. I’ve been unfair to you, and not for the reasons I told you and Vinyl. I tried to disguise it as simply frustration at your antics but I know now that isn’t true.” Octavia swallowed nervously, grateful for the inebriation loosening her tongue. She told Wubsy what had been so very hard to admit to herself. “I was jealous of you, you see? The way Vinyl is so enamored with you and affectionate towards you. It made me scared that she was losing interest in me.” Wubsy started to giggle in that peculiar way Twilight did. Octavia turned. “I’m glad my fears are so funny to you,” the ash-colored mare grimaced. “No, it’s not that at all. It’s just that... you actually thought Vinyl was losing interest in you?” Again she laughed at the concept, much to Octavia’s chagrin. “Well yes. She keeps snuggling with you and nuzzling you and so forth.” Octavia had the feeling of being the only one left out of a joke. “Why is this so funny?” she demanded of the changeling who was even now rolling on the floor emitting loud peals of laughter. Once the changeling had managed to catch her breath, she looked at Octavia with mirthful tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Octavia. It’s just that the loving bond between you and Vinyl is just so strong and fiery it’s almost palpable to somepony like me. The thought that anything could shake the amount of love that mare pours into you seems silly to me. I didn’t mean anything by it, and I certainly wasn’t trying to mock you.” Octavia nodded, blushing slightly both at humiliation of her concerns being so laughably foundless as well as the ease with which her companion seemed to notice her reciprocated attraction to Vinyl. “Well, that is a relief and a burden off my mind. Nonetheless, it doesn’t excuse my behavior. I’ve treated you with suspicion and animosity, and I’m realizing more and more that you didn’t deserve any of it. You’ve given me and Vinyl nothing but kindness and I’ve repaid it with disdain—and for that I am truly sorry.” With these last few words, Octavia turned her gaze back to the changeling. Wubsy felt a blossoming of love flowing from the gray earth pony to herself. It was a small unsure flow, but free and pure with the potential for growth. The insectoid equine was overcome with a desire to communicate her appreciation for Octavia’s change of heart. Twilight’s literary mind, however, was becoming an obstruction to her efforts. Whenever she was able to grasp what it was she wanted to tell her friend, the words would come and muddy her emotions, crowding out the intent behind them. Wubsy dropped the transformation and walked over to Octavia. She climbed up on the couch beside the cellist and cautiously nuzzled her under the chin. Octavia smiled and pulled the changeling into an embrace which was happily returned by the small insect. “I’m sorry, Wubsy. I promise that while I am around you will never go hungry again.” --- The next morning, Vinyl stumbled out of the bedroom looking like she had just been hit by the 9:15 Canterlot Express. That was, however, nothing compared to how she felt. She wandered into the kitchen for some hair of the dog to compensate for the dramatic overserving she had received the previous night. As she emerged, she smiled at the scene that greeted her. There on the couch were Octavia and Wubsy, curled into a tight ball and cuddled sleeping soundly.