//------------------------------//
// Professions 
// Story: Journal of Occasional Nonsensicality 
// by Acryliks 
//------------------------------//

Vinyl ran back down the stairs a few moments after disappearing up them. Her turntable floated closely behind her, behind that a box that she kept some of her records in sailed with it. She quickly sat down on her chair on my right, setting everything down and beginning her work.

I watched in anticipation as Vinyl began setting up her latest piece of tech on the living room coffee table. She had recently purchased a new travel-sized mixing board to take with her when she worked at smaller, less intense events. 

Even well known DJ’s had to work with the little guy every now and then.

I watched as Vinyl meticulously unwrapped, routed, and plugged-in cables. She glanced up at me, giving me a confused look, before going back to what she was doing. I tilted my head, trying to make sense of the activity that she was engaged in.

I glanced over to Octavia, who was sitting opposite me on the second couch across from the coffee table, then back to Vinyl. We were both fairly enthralled with what Vinyl was up to.

“...alright, what gives? What are you two staring at?” Vinyl asked us without even looking up to us. I looked back to Octavia, only to find her looking in a completely different direction.

“Nothing, I’m just watching you set up your new... board,” I told her as I looked back to her. She glanced up to me, cracking a confused smile.

“And why, if I may ask, is what I’m doing so interesting to the both of you?” she pestered us, as she struggled with a stubborn cable.

“What? Me? I’ve been looking elsewhere the entire time,” Octavia said in an overly fake innocent tone. I smirked at the thought.

“Yeah, sure ya have,” Vinyl deadpanned.

“I just think that... I don’t know, it’s cool that you seem to know how everything works on that thing, even though you’ve only had it out of the box for a few minutes,” I told her, glancing over to the package that she had taken it out of when it was delivered.

“...you think it’s cool that I know how my audio equipment works?” she half-asked, half-repeated to me. I nodded.

“I also find your process to be quite captivating,” Octavia spoke, still looking in another direction. Vinyl glanced between the two of us for a few moments, before throwing her forelegs up into the air.

“Well golly gee! It’s almost like it’s a part of my job to know how this kind of stuff works! Say, Octavia! Can you tell us how the soundpost in your cello works?” Vinyl yelled.

“Of course. The soundpost in the body of a cello works to-” Octavia spoke before being cut off by Vinyl.

“Ah ah ah! It was rhetorical. My point is that... yeah, of course I know how my equipment works. It’s kinda how I make a living. And working at a radio station for a long time certainly doesn’t make things worse, ya know? This is just a smaller version of what I have upstairs... Tell ya what. The next time you sit down to write something, I’ll sit behind you and bug you about the nuances of your writing, okay?” she finished, pulling a record out from the box they were held in.

I blinked a few times, before looking to my other friend. Octavia was also staring at me. I pulled my lips back slightly, uttering ‘I don’t know what to do now’ wordlessly. She smirked slightly, before we both looked back to Vinyl.

“...you guys know that I’m kidding, right?” she asked us with a grin. Octavia let out a large sigh, and I lowered my head in relief.

“Of course I’m not mad! Now come on, who wants to listen to some Cohoof and Cambria?” she asked us excitedly. Octavia groaned and rolled her eyes, before sinking back into her seat.

“...that’s becoming quite the running joke around here, isn’t it?” I asked both of my friends. They glanced to me, perplexed looks on both of their faces.

“...I’m actually surprised you know what a soundpost is, truthfully,” I spoke aloud.

If looks could kill, I’d be dead.