Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and cast everything into oddly-defined shadows as the two mares eased through the door of Octavia’s apartment. A brief bout of fumbling along the wall by the cellist resulted in a sudden glare of unforgiving light filling the space, starkly revealing the small room's contents; a comfortably worn couch took up the majority of the free space, a modest television set sat in front of it. A number of shelves held records obviously meant to be played on the set of speakers spaced throughout the room and wired back to a turntable. A cello rested conspicuously in one corner of the room, its varnished surface lovingly tended.
The cellist herself pushed past Vinyl, who was still hesitating on the threshold. "Come in, Vinyl. Make yourself at home.”
The DJ eased herself inside the small apartment, stepping daintily around the couch to clear the door and being careful not to brush anything off the shelves with the swishing of her tail.
She gingerly let herself further into the small apartment, conscious of Octavia's nervous gaze and somewhat faltering smile. She was obviously awaiting Vinyl's judgment of her home.
"Good grief, how do you even move around in here?" she asked in what she hoped was a playful tone.
Apparently her mirth was lost in translation; Octavia's hopeful smile fell immediately as a swell of embarrassment at her modest living conditions overwhelmed her pride at being able to help her friend.
Vinyl's heart faltered as quickly as Octavia's vanished smile. Regret for her poorly-chosen jest settled in beside fear that she'd mortally offended somepony important to her.
"It's not that bad, is it?" Octavia asked sadly.
Restraining the urge to bang her head repeatedly off the wall as penance for her foolish insult, Vinyl struggled to think of a way to save face. "Heh, of course not. It just means we get to be closer is all," she said in a passable imitation of her trademark casualness.
A second later Vinyl's brain actually processed what she said. Really? That's the best I could come up with? Ugh, open mouth, insert hoof.
Octavia giggled, raising a hoof to her mouth in a demure attempt to hide her laughter.
Relief filled Vinyl, lifting the stifling weight of the fear that she had done something irreparable.
"Vinyl, you're such a tease," Octavia managed to get out amongst her gentle laughter.
"Oh, well, you know me; taking names and breaking hearts," Vinyl replied breezily.
"I'm sure," Octavia dryly replied. "Well, heartbreaker, I'm afraid you're going to have to make do with the couch for now. Perhaps tomorrow we can see about getting a futon or something of the sort for you."
Vinyl frantically waved a hoof in denial. "No way. I ain't about to make you rearrange your place just to suit me. The couch is just fine."
Octavia shook her head in bemusement. "In that case, goodnight, Vinyl. The bathroom is down the hallway on the right. My bedroom is on the left. Try not to get them confused."
"I think I can tell the difference, thanks."
Octavia only smiled in response before she turned and disappeared towards her bedroom.
Vinyl laid herself tentatively down on the unfamiliar sofa, twisting about to maximize her comfort. Finally she pillowed her head on her outstretched forelegs and closed her eyes behind the shelter of her glasses. In moments gentle snoring filled the small room.
Octavia awoke from her own sleep an indeterminate period of time later. The room was still cast in darkness and the angle of the light cast on the floor by the transient moon had changed noticeably. The grogginess that clung to her mind like cobwebs assured her she had been asleep for at least several hours. However, she was primarily aware that her throat was parched to the point of painfulness.
Hauling herself out of an entirely-too-comfortable bed she plodded towards the small kitchenette that abutted the main living area of her apartment. The novel presence of the sleeping Vinyl stole her attention before she reached her goal. The thirsty Octavia paused in her pursuit of refreshment to smile at the peaceful scene of the supine DJ, head cradled on her hooves. Her vividly blue mane spilled artlessly around her face, highlighting the glasses she wore even while sleeping.
Does she ever take those off? I don't even know what color her eyes are, come to think of it.
Octavia continued to stare, mesmerized, as the mare's chest rose and fell in perpetual rhythm. For a brief unworldly moment she wondered what it would be like to run her own hoof through that shockingly unique mane. Then the entranced mare's poignant reverie was broken by a particularly loud snore. Sudden panic raced through her and she hastily stepped back to avoid the appearance of creepily watching another pony sleep. Resolutely she turned back to her initial goal of a glass of water.
I guess I get weird when I'm tired.
Thirst mercifully quenched, Octavia returned to her room. There she paused, a sudden tugging at the back of her mind informing her she had forgotten something. She shook her head in frustration, unsure what she could have neglected. Then, with a pang, she remembered.
Oh my, did I really forget to give Vinyl a pillow or blanket or anything? How much more thoughtless could I be?
Hurriedly she pulled an extra blanket from her closet and, gripping it in her teeth, made her way back to the sleeping unicorn.
Holding the blanket with her mouth, she stood over Vinyl before lightly releasing it to cover the mare's lower extremities. With infinite caution she then pulled it far enough up that it lay over the still-slumbering unicorn's midsection. Satisfied with the stealthy execution of her mission, the cellist returned to her own rest, this time without distraction.
Later that morning, after the sun was well up and many other ponies had already begun their day, Vinyl Scratch stretched out her limbs and rose to a sitting position. With a quizzical glance at the blanket that she found covering her she rose and turned to regard the couch fondly.
Better than a sleeping bag, at any rate.
Vinyl stood then, still and silent with her ears cocked for any noise that would tell her if Octavia yet stirred. Hearing nothing, she smiled and made her way to the kitchen.
Octavia woke to the clattering of pans. Hastily she threw back her covers and arrowed for her kitchen. She was greeted by the sight of Vinyl seated at her table, a plate of omelettes and a glass of milk arranged in front of her. Her amethyst pupils narrowed in indignation as she took in the numerous dirty dishes currently littering her countertop and the generous portion of food filling the unicorn's plate. Her sharp greeting died stillborn on her tongue, though, as she spied an equal portion waiting at the other breakfast place the not-so-thoughtless Vinyl had set. With her building anger popped like an unfortunate balloon the cellist took her seat across from her new roommate.
"Good morning, Vinyl. Thank you for doing this; it looks very good."
"Nmph prbhlm," Vinyl replied around a mouthful of food. Then, seeing Octavia's unamused expression she grinned sheepishly and swallowed. "Erm, I meant, it's no problem. I hope you don't mind that I helped myself."
"Certainly not. It was very thoughtful of you to make breakfast for us both."
Conversation between the two mares died then as the kitchen was filled with the sound of cutlery scraping against plates.
As Octavia finished chewing one particular morsel of egg-and-cheese goodness she glanced across at her friend. "Vinyl, I hope you don't think you have to do stuff like this all the time for me."
"Nah," Vinyl replied, expression unreadable behind tinted glasses. "But if you're gonna let me stay here it's only fair I help you out."
"Well, thank you Vinyl."
When their plates were cleaned both mares rose from their seats to deposit their soiled dishes in the sink. Vinyl's hoof opened the faucet and filled the sink with warm water that promptly became sudsy. Gripping the plates in her telekinetic grip she plunged plates, utensils and cooking implements into the water, pulling them out sparkling clean. Octavia took them and dried them thoroughly before returning them to their appropriate places. With two pairs of hooves at the task they were done quickly. With the kitchen returned to order the two mares gravitated to the living room.
"You may have first use of the shower if you wish," Octavia said as she settled down onto the couch. "If you don't care to use the same towels or soap as me there are more in the closet."
"Ok, Tavi. Thanks." The DJ stepped down the hall and vanished into the bathroom.
Octavia waited until she heard the sound of water running. Then she quickly got up and fetched her cello. A brief test assured her it was in tune. Smiling slightly, the grey cellist moved her bow across the strings and filled her mind and home with the ethereal reverberations of her music.
Vinyl paused in her vigorous lathering of herself with soap, conscious of a subtle sound intruding on the unbroken hiss of falling water. Her ears cocked curiously, she could just make out the sound of a stringed instrument. Recalling the cello she had seen propped in a corner, Vinyl returned to her bathing with a fresh energy.
When the freshly-washed unicorn emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing in her wake, she found her roommate engrossed in her music and oblivious to anything else. Holding her breath and stepping lightly lest she disrupt, Vinyl made her way to the couch. She watched, enraptured; this wasn't her thing by any means, but it was obvious that this was Octavia's passion, her gift. The sheer magnetic force of Octavia's bliss held Vinyl's gaze in place, leaving her to stare in wonder.
When Octavia finally opened her eyes she was surprised to realize her impromptu solo had garnered an audience. Smiling sheepishly, she replaced her cello and sat down on the sofa beside Vinyl.
"I'm sorry, Vinyl. I didn't mean to play so long. I apologize if I disturbed you."
Vinyl shook her head so fiercely her mane whirled about like a neon blue tornado for a few seconds. "No way! This is your place, after all. If you wanna practice your cello I'm not gonna complain. Besides, it wasn't that bad."
"Coming from somepony like you, that is high praise indeed,” Octavia said.
"Indeed, my good gentlemare. I am a renowned connoisseur of all things musical,” Vinyl agreed.
The two mares held each other's' gazes for a brief second, then both devolved to hysterical laughter.
"Haha, Vinyl," the cellist's shoulders shook with her mirth. "You wouldn't know good music if it hit you over the head with a string section."
"Pffh! Just 'cause I like music that's new, unique and powerful instead of slow, old and boring doesn't mean I don't know good music when I hear it."
The argument was an old one, like a familiar dance they knew the steps to.
"It hardly counts as music if it can't be played on an instrument,” Octavia objected.
"Filly, if somepony uses technology to create their sounds the technology becomes an instrument,” Vinyl countered.
"Hardly. My cello is an instrument, or a violin, or even a guitar. Not a computer or synthesizer or some nonsense,” Octavia said.
"That's a semantic argument and you know it,” Vinyl said.
"Vinyl, you don't even know what a semantic argument is,” Octavia pointed out.
"Sure I do! It means you're wrong,” Vinyl replied with a cocky grin.
"That's not . . . that doesn't even . . . I don't even know how to respond to that!" Octavia exclaimed.
"Awesome; that means I win by default,” Vinyl said with a triumphant smile.
Stung by her defeat in their verbal sparring match, Octavia left the couch in disgrace.
"I'm going to take my own shower now," Octavia said, trying not to giggle at Vinyl's endearingly funny grin of victory.
"Suit yourself, Treble Clef," Vinyl replied, already flicking on the television set.
When Octavia emerged from her cleansing she settled herself down beside Vinyl again. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of talk shows and sitcom reruns. Soon enough the sun began to lower and the growing shadows impelled Vinyl and Octavia to head out for another night at Club P0n-3.
"Hey Fresh, are you doing ok?" Octavia asked the barcolt as she eased herself behind the counter.
"Yup. It's pretty slow tonight, actually," the earth pony replied.
Nodding her agreement, Octavia leaned on the counter. She gazed out into the expanse of the club, taking in the throng of ponies filling it. The pulse of strobe lights and the heavy assault of bass and volume no longer troubled her as it once had. Her memory flitted back to her early days working here, when the incessant noise and light had worn on her nerves and made her grateful for the end of every night. The repetitive patterns of color played through her lilac eyes, nearly hypnotizing her.
It's strange; I never would have thought I would end up somewhere like this. Even when I did come here I was sure I'd hate it. But now I feel like I belong here; Vinyl and lots of other ponies depend on me. Even the "music" isn't that bad after it starts to grow on you.
Octavia's gaze tracked across the club and landed on the energetic form of DJ Pon-3, mane flying as her head bobbed in time to the beats she controlled, countless ponies flowing around her station like restless water breaking against a rock.
And the company is pretty good, too.
Octavia shook her head gently to chase out the sudden reminiscence she had fallen into.
"Hey Fresh, I'm gonna be in the back for minute. I need to see how many more cases of Bacolti we've got."
"Alright," he replied absently.
Octavia stepped out from behind the bar and made for the back storerooms. A few hoofsteps later she stumbled, thrown off balance by the sudden weight of a strange stallion having draped himself over her.
"Hey cutie, you goin' home with anypony tonight?" he slurred.
"That's really none of your business, I'm afraid," Octavia replied, cringing from the strong musk of alcohol clinging to the forthright stallion.
"Aw baby, don't be like that" the inebriate cooed, trying to angle himself in for a kiss with the growingly-repulsed Octavia.
Where the hay is Cadia when you need her?
There was a brief struggle as the cellist tried to dislodge her unwanted suitor.
"Stop . . . fighting," the stallion growled, a nasty undertone entering his words. When compliance wasn't forthcoming, a savage kick from the stallion's legs sent Octavia tumbling to the ground, her attacker landing atop the now-terrified mare as ponies danced around them, unconcerned. His hooves continued roaming over her body even as she still struggled desperately to escape him, her cries for help drowned out by the booming music and stomping hooves.
Vinyl stood atop her raised mixing stand, presiding as always over the happiness of her crowd, her ponies. She smiled to see the enjoyment of all these ponies manifested in dance and movement. Suddenly a flurry of motion from the outskirts of the crowd caught her attention. She turned in time to see Octavia fall to the ground, a strange colt following her down. Her ears couldn't be sure if they caught a faint call for help or not, but it didn't matter to her. A violent push of her hoof ended the music, plunging the club into sudden silence as the revelers stopped uncertainly. Vinyl stepped heavily down onto the dance floor, trotting purposefully towards her friend, every hoofstep bringing a fresh crescendo of anger and fear to the normally carefree unicorn. The crowd parted before Vinyl, shoved aside by the aura of purpose emanating from her.
Heart thudding in her chest, Octavia tried desperately to worm out from under her assailant. Then the stallion’s weight was gone, hauled off of her. The frightened mare lurched to her feet, expecting to see Cadia or Fresh had come to her rescue. Instead she saw Vinyl, her face a frozen mask of fury, glasses pushed up to reveal garnet-red eyes that glinted dangerously. Her horn was alight with blue magic that matched the telekinetic noose that had formed around the neck of the unpleasant stallion, hauling him bodily a safe distance away as his hooves batted weakly at the intangible force that was choking him. “How dare you,” Vinyl growled. “How dare you put your hooves on her like that?” Her eyes narrowed in anger and the ring of magic around the colt’s neck tightened even further. Sputtering noises escaped from his constricted throat as he tried futilely to breathe.
“Vinyl . . . Vinyl, stop it!” Octavia shouted. Vinyl’s rigid focus on her prey wavered for a second as she glanced to the side to see her manager standing, even if a little unsteadily.
"Are you ok?" Vinyl asked, her voice thick with emotion.
"Y-yes Vinyl, I'm perfectly fine. Honestly," Octavia replied, feeling anything but fine.
"Good. Cadia, get him out of here," Vinyl said, drawing Octavia's attention to the bouncer who had appeared on the scene unbeknownst to her. Saying nothing, Cadia caught the wheezing reprobate up in her own telekinesis and not-too-carefully made off with him.
"Are you sure you're ok, Tavi?" Vinyl asked, her voice considerably softened. "I was really worried about you."
A colt, somewhere in the onlooking crowd snickered. "Aww, that's so cute" he called out in a faux sweet tone. Vinyl whirled around to face the crowd, glaring out at the anonymous heckler.
"What are you all looking at, anyway?" she growled, angry red eyes daring anyone to respond. Everypony else found somewhere else to direct their attention and Vinyl turned back to Octavia.
"If you wanna take the rest of the night off, I won't mind," Vinyl tentatively offered.
"I told you, I'm fine! I'm not a little filly, you know. I'm not going to let something like this keep me from doing my job."
Vinyl paused for a second, unable to formulate words to express the swell of feelings washing over her. Then she lunged forward and pulled Octavia into a crushing embrace before releasing her and trotting back to resume the music, leaving the cellist wordless behind her.
Octavia woke to hear the familiar sound of water already running in her shower. Turning over and pulling her blankets more comfortably into position she stared out her window into the clear blue light of the day.
Sweet Celestia, finally a day off. Why can't there be more Sundays in a week?
She closed her eyes and lapsed back into blissful sleep. She didn’t rouse again until Vinyl shook her awake. Groaning, she opened her eyes again to see her roommate beaming down at her. “Hey, Tavi, how about we go see a movie at the outdoor theater tonight?”
"A movie? Vinyl, I think that sounds lovely," Octavia agreed as she threw the blankets off of herself and stretched.
"Glad to hear it, Treble Clef. We only get one day off a week, so we may as well do something fun,” Vinyl said.
"I've never been to an outdoor theater, though. What's it like?" Octavia asked.
"It's awesome! You take a blanket or something and some snacks and a friend and enjoy a movie under the stars!" Vinyl enthusiastically replied, rearing up on her hind legs and punctuating her sentences with wild hoof motions.
"Ok Vinyl, calm down; it sounds like a lot of fun."
Octavia glanced out the window to see the last fading rays of the sun sinking below the horizon, painting the sky orange and the clouds pink. "When exactly does it start?"
Vinyl's eyes followed Octavia's. "Um, we'd probably better get going soon."
Rolling her eyes at her friend's characteristic lack of forethought, Octavia followed the hastening Vinyl out into the darkening evening.
A quick trot brought them both to the theater. Tickets purchased, they made their way to a likely looking spot and sat down on the comfortable grass, arranging themselves to see the massive projector screen with the greatest ease. They were surrounded by many other ponies sitting singly, in pairs and in groups but they were isolated enough to only be able to hear each other.
They sat in companionable silence, content to watch the faint glimmer of stars as they appeared in the inky sky overhead. When the movie itself started the only thing Octavia could notice was the way the shifting patterns of light lent subtle highlights to Vinyl's mane, giving it a lustrous sheen that was as captivating as it was ephemeral. Warmth filled her body and pooled in her cheeks as she recalled the only glimpse she had had of Vinyl's ruby eyes, filled with protective instinct and heat. Breath shallow, she leaned over the DJ's shoulder, her black mane teasing the mare's white coat.
"Uh, hey Tavi, what's up?" Vinyl asked in a voice cloyed with the magnetic force she felt pulling them together, her heart thudding in answer.
"Vinyl, you have the most beautiful eyes . . . " Octavia's voice trailed off.
Filled with a sudden and nameless need, Vinyl wrapped her foreleg around the cellist, drawing her closer yet. Sighing in contentment, Octavia settled her head on the other mare’s shoulder, strands of her hair brushing feather-light against Vinyl's coat and sparking little electric currents.
Greatly daring, Octavia reached around to plant a kiss on Vinyl’s cheek. Blushing, she tried to pull her head away but found she couldn’t. Vinyl’s foreleg had wrapped around her head, holding it immobile as she gazed into Octavia’s amethyst eyes. “That was good, Octy,” she whispered with sultry heat. “But let me show you something better.”
“What –“ Octavia began to ask before she was cut off by the rough press of Vinyl’s lips against her own. Her eyes closed in rapture as she willingly allowed Vinyl’s tongue to press into her mouth.
The movie passed, but neither pony saw; their world narrowed to consist of their shared warmth, the contact between them and the unfaltering light of the stars that fell on them.
This chapter contains sexually explicit material. If you wish to read it, click here: Harmony's Crescendo, Chapter 6.5
It contains no plot-relevant details or information and can be safely read or skipped based on personal preferences.