XAVIER POV
HOME
Dinner that evening was a rather quiet affair. At times Pinkie and Skystar were talkative, and I explained a few of my future plans to Twilight, but otherwise the atmosphere was rather quiet. Quietest of all was none other than Tempest, who simply ate from her plate like a horse. Rainbow Dash, who sat beside her, was trying her best to hold back a face of disgust for some reason. I gave a questioning shrug. Very subtly, Dashie pointed to her armpits and chest and gave a pose of odor-identification. Then it hit me.
“Um, Fiz-I, um-hm,” I began rather awkwardly. “Tempest, would you enjoy a nice bath afterwards?”
“I don’t exactly see how that’d be practical, but, alright,” she replied glumly. I let out a slight sigh and stared down at my food. Just when our relationship was going so well, it seemed to be thinning towards the point of tearing and breaking completely. As I cleaned up my plate, I recalled the week so far, and picked out what stood out about her, eventually coming to a conclusion:
Tempest didn’t completely trust the world around her, not even those who were affectionately and mutually close to her. Twilight seemed to be the one who she had the highest level of trust with, given what Twilight had told me about the fight to save Equestria and how she saved Tempest from imminent death. If I was to win Tempest over, she’d have to take a personal initiative to rebuild her trust with the world around her – both on a small and grand scale, and I’d have to be right there for her in a situation of the highest critical state. Not easy at all.
The best I could do at the moment was simply to bond with her more, understand her past, and try to ease her mental state.
After dishes had been washed (and a lot of them!), I walked with Tempest to the bathroom. As soon as we stepped inside, I kicked the door shut, catching it in time to avoid a slam.
“Take a seat,” I offered, gesturing to the side of the tub. “I want you to feel tranquil and calm, Tempest. Please. It’s not good to be tense and edgy constantly.”
Tempest narrowed her eyes before rolling them and huffing. “It’s in my DNA. I’ve been so steely and cold-hearted in my prior quests for internal strength and power.”
I shook my head. “No it isn’t. It was impregnated by whom you submitted to. Now it is free, your heart and mind. It’s not impossible, sweetie. You can reform their strength and control their impulses.”
She shook her head at me – slightly, and raised a hoof in a direct, accusative pose. “Stop that. Don’t call me ‘sweetie’.”
Now it was my turn for an eye-roll – only this time I chuckled. “How can I not? I’ve never had a girlfriend like you. Still denying your soft, fuzzy, affectionate side, eh? C’mon, let’s get going.”
I reached over and cranked open the faucet, testing the temperature with my fingers until it was hot, but not burning. I then sat on the edge of the toilet seat, arm outstretched, and touched the edge of the bathtub, and wore a sad, pitiful face, just to tease her. Through the corner of my eye, I watched the tub fill up. Then I noticed a slight fluff of fur sticking out, just a little, from behind her ear and on the back of her neck. A light bulb went off in my head.
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec,” I ordered, dashing out the door like a soaked cat. A couple minutes later I returned in nothing but a pair of blue shorts with a picture of a beach wave and a yellow sun on it, along with a pair of flip flops. I also tied the ends of every single dread with some hair elastics.
“Alright, let’s get started!” I said rather excitedly, stepping forward.
The tub was now nearly half-full. Observing Tempest’s armor, I soon found the joining points, and undid the clasp of her frontal collar plate without a word.
“You’re seriously going to… No,” Tempest said firmly as I placed her frontal collar plate on the tiled floor.
“Yep!” I replied, immediately unhitching her shoulder pads, back neck guard, and layered back plates. In literally three minutes all her armor was off, and right away she felt timid and queasy, almost shivering as her eyes darted around.
“Relax, relax, easy,” I whispered as softly as I could, caressing her neck while scanning her black spandex jumpsuit for any sign of… yes, there it was! A small, concealed zipper.
How’d you ever manage to take this off, if you ever have? I thought, grabbing the pull tab and easing it down the length of her body. Incredibly, Tempest eased up a little, enough for me to carefully slide her front legs out and pull the jumpsuit off her body and eventually her back legs. Or should I say peel. Her body was caked in dried sweat and even small flakes of hard dead skin. It was like unwrapping a fish covered in crushed cornflakes that had been vacuum packed.
Biting back a gasp and nose wrinkle of disgust, I gently draped the jumpsuit over the toilet, kicked off my flip flops, and stepped into the tub. Oooh, it was warm! The level was at half and still rising, so I shut off the water and drained out a little.
“C’mon, Tempest, let’s get you clean,” I urged, my arms outstretched as if to assist her in stepping in, just like my mom had done for me as a toddler.
Looking down, Tempest pulled the same face I was about to do moments earlier, taking in the sight of her dirty, smelly body. Without meeting my gaze, she stepped right in.
“That’s it,” I cooed. “Let the water warm up and relax those legs. Muscles can be at ease now and regain their strength, soreness fades away now.”
After a few minutes, I squatted and sat down, letting out a small gasp of relaxation and tranquil mentality. “Now, your turn. Just gently.”
Still a little tense, Tempest bent one knee, then the other. Now her whole rear was submerged. For a moment we sat at opposite ends, just calmly gazing at each other indirectly. Slowly but surely, Tempest’s muscles eased out and she began to feel calm. Her eyes weren’t so vigilant and nervous, and her shoulders had drooped.
“Now, how about lying?” I offered, extending myself forward as if bowing. “All the way down, so you feel it all.”
“I probably won’t mind it at this rate,” she confided, and squatted down completely. “Just… my mohawk…”
“It’s alright, Tempy, it’s alright,” I whispered softly. “I know hairstyles, I can get it the same way again. Gosh, I didn’t know you liked your hair that much. But, to be fair, it does add to your grand, firm, intimidating appearance, hehe.”
Tempest spread her rear legs and lay down completely, stretching out her front legs, thus immersing her whole body, leaving her head up and above the surface (the tub was three-fourths full now.)
“Move around a bit,” I suggested. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Tempest leaned to one side, then wriggled a little, letting the water flow all over her. Kneeling upright, I gently rubbed my hand over her neck, back, chest, and belly, then grabbed a stiff comb and gently raked it through to remove any remaining flakes and dirt.
“Feels good,” she admitted, rolling about and splashing a bit of water over the edge, which I didn’t mind at all. I myself began to feel excited, and carelessly splashed some water in her face.
“Hey!”
“Oops, sorry. Meant to get under here,” I said, rubbing her chin and throat.
With the first stage done, I moved onto the second stage without a pause. I stepped out, reached behind her, and pulled the plug, draining all the water.
“You can stand now, please,” I ordered kindly, then waited a few minutes to let the water drain off and out of her coat. Turning the water back on, I pulled the stopper, sending a sprinkle down over her thick butt and thighs. I didn’t want to make any lewd comments, even in a romantic context, but they looked glorious. But massaging them would have to wait a good while.
Slipping on a body scrub glove, I drizzled some conditioner on her mowhawk and body wash over her body, and then legs, lathered it all in, then pulled out the hand-held shower and thoroughly rinsed her down all over, before repeating the process. Finally, I shut off the water and wiped the excess water off her body with a shoehorn and the side of my hand, since I didn’t have a sweat scraper. Last but not least, I snatched five large towels from a stack under the sink and rubbed her dry from top to bottom.
“I feel weird, but you put in that work, and it’s paid off,” Tempest whispered. “Maybe you can put in some more work later tonight.”
I had to blush – did she really know about sex? Had she even experienced it before, let alone the various types of foreplay?
Shut up, brain! Not the time for such questions!
“Haha. Do you mean a massage? Sure, why not. But let’s get you dry now.”
I helped her step out of the tub and rubbed her with the last dry towel, before blasting her with a hair dryer at a warm setting. She really was fluffy and furry. It took me a good hour to fully dry her, gently comb her coat nicely smooth and neat, and then stylize her mowhawk to its unique curve and frontal “claw” shape.
“Why so insecure, you’ll turn heads when you walk through that door,” I mused, grinning at her. “Everyone else here in the room – meaning me – can see it, but you just can’t seem to. Do you know how beautiful you are?” I challenged. “Exactly – you don’t. If only you saw what I can see, you’ll understand why I love you. In fact, I have a way. Come over here.”
I led her to the mirror and laid my hand on her shoulder. “Look at that! How just a simple, well-executed action has made such a difference. How do you feel, honestly?”
“I feel better, Breezy,” she replied with a smile. “And I feel reasonably relaxed and healthy. All thanks to you.”
Without hesitation, I turned and kissed behind her ear, which was startling, but she turned and gave me an endearing smile. I then turned and opened the bathroom door – slightly.
“Uh…Fluttershy?” I called out through the gap. “Can you pass me the mop and some rags?”
“Coming, Xavier!” Fluttershy replied from my bedroom. I caught a brief sight of her dashing by as she ran into the storage room. Within minutes she arrived at the door with a wide-tipped mop and bucket, along with an armful of rags.
“Again?” Tempest muttered as I passed a hand over her chest.
“I can’t help it,” I teased. “Your chest fur is so soft and… inviting.”
“Why?” she barked. “Do you want to be on top of me or what?”
I chuckled again, leaning over to wipe some water off the pieces of armor with the rags, before arranging them on the sink countertop. “Not exactly… I mean… you know what, just forget it. Let me clean up this water and we can relax by the desk.”
“Did you misspell bed?” she teased.
I shook my head, fighting back a giggle. “Music helps me relax while still allowing my creative muscles to comfortably flex. Or I could simply play music and do it your way…”
“No no, it’s alright,” Tempest quickly shook her head no. I slowly nodded and continued mopping. There wasn’t a load of water but there was quite a bit. By the time I finished, the mop was nearly soaked. I squeezed the excess in the bucket and hung it over the tub’s edge to dry, then turned on the fan. As for the spandex jumpsuit, I flung it over my shoulder and held the armor in both hands. With my foot, I pushed the door open and we walked out into the living room.
Mom was relaxing on the couch, reading a book with Rarity and Spike, while Twilight was reading something by herself. Pinkie and Skystar were playing a game of chess, while Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Fluttershy were in the kitchen eating some cookies. Perfect.
I led Tempest into my room, and immediately shut the door the moment we both entered. Right away, Tempest struck a defensive position, her legs stiff and her chest and neck hair on end.
“Easy, relax, Tempy,” I cooed. “Just relax.”
Keeping a safe distance from her, I draped her jumpsuit over a corner of the headboard – being careful not to make it touch the pillows – and flopped down on the bed.
“Come,” I coaxed. “Come sit on the bed with me. I just want to chat privately is all.”
Slowly, Tempest’s inner flame shrunk until it was out, and she sided up to me. Her tail felt a little ticklish on my shins, but I ignored it.
“We all have goals. Mine is to ensure you, Twilight, and all her friends are kept safe and cared for. It is also to make you feel relaxed, happy, and peaceful. That’s why I want to share my love for creating music with you – so we both are relaxed and happy. But what about you? What are your thoughts of a nice, relaxed, stress-free scenario?”
Tempest’s face fell, and her lips drooped. “I’ve hardly had any moments like that at all, so I can hardly remember any of them at all.”
“I thought so,” I remarked softly. “You’re a ruthless yet strategic fighter and a fierce warrior, but only on the outside. Internally you’re still soft, kind, and loving, but that soft core has been slashed, kicked, and bled badly to the point where it could barely manifest itself externally. As a result, you lost trust in literally everything.”
“That’s… a well-formed summary of my life.”
“And part of that journey still shows,” I added, sitting up and stroking around her right eye. “Since you don’t have any tranquil moments to remember, I want to create one for you, right here, right now. And even more so, it’s one you can share with someone to try and regain that internal feeling of trust and help heal that hurt soft core within.”
“You… really want to do this? For me?” Tempest asked, looking straight into my eyes with her own hopeful, touched pair.
“Yes, so much,” I replied, looking straight back with the strongest compassionate, loving gaze I could muster. “Some may see a fierce, ruthless fighter, but I see a hurt soul who needs healing. I want Fizzlepop back. Not all of her, but a good portion of her. Because I love Tempest too.”
Tempest smiled – not a little smile, but a big one. Her eyes were so happy, she looked like she was about to cry. Then, all of a sudden, she grabbed me and shoved her lips into my mouth, forcing me to purse my lips back to return the kiss.
“Whoa, I…”
“You’ve earned it, and I’m sorry for being so closed-hearted. I honestly should’ve done that sooner. Because you’re worthy of love, maybe even on another level. Let’s go make some music.”
“After you,” I replied, rolling across the bed and reaching for the door to open it for her.
We entered the living room, small smiles worn.
“Hi Mom.”
“Hi Twilight.”
I slid into the chair and booted up the MacBook. Opening Logic Pro X, I began a long search through my plugins and samples folders. I had nearly 650GB worth of VSTs, synths, and samples in here. I had only used a few folders to make hip hop beats and traditional Caribbean folk music, but hadn’t really explored the rest of the massive sound library I had.
After about ten minutes of skimming and testing, I found a few VSTs to use and a drum pack, along with the Maschine drum selector. Pulling up a piano MIDI, I imported it into a new project, slipped on my headphones, and listened to the whole sequence, before separating the melody, lead, and drums.
Next, I checked to make sure my instruments were tweaked properly and the drums sounded clean, as well as the proper tempo. I hit record and began playing out the lead synth, then adjusted a bit more. I copied the original MIDI piano notes to a new track and adjusted it to sound mellower without being too low a pitch.
“Come,” I beckoned, gesturing with my hand slowly to Tempest, who was still feeling a little embarrassed to be in front of her friends without any armor or clothes on. In hindsight to human norms, it was a little funny. “You can help.”
I set up the mic stand on my right, and placed a chair from the kitchen on my left. Now Tempest was beside me, and I had the mic hanging in front of me.
“This is a drum pad,” I explained to Tempest, pointing to the Maschine MK3. “Each of these pads generates a drum sound that appears on the screen. As I gesture to you, you’ll tap a certain pad. If we observe the pads from left to right, top to bottom, we’ll start with 1 and end with 16. I’ll call out the number and you tap. You have to be super-fast but gentle, to avoid damaging the pads – they’re delicate.”
I hit play and we began. Right off the bat, Tempest was very snappy, and I had to show her how to properly press the pads. However, the notes wouldn’t line up, no matter how fast I spoke. Every time I had to realign them by hand.
“I’m done,” Tempest muttered in a pouty voice, unexpectedly setting off a light bulb in my head. I leaned towards her neck. “Hey, can you… sing?” I whispered affectionately.
Tempest shook her head, but held a slight smile. “I can try, at least.”
“That’s the spirit,” I replied in a motivational tone. Tempest sat beside the couch, on the floor. I repositioned the mic so it sat in front of her mouth at a reasonable distance, then plugged it in and checked my settings. Finally, I checked the drum kit and piano, then unplugged my headphones so all could hear it live. For me to hit every note properly while playing the keyboard with one hand and tapping drum pads with the other would be a challenge.
“You’re not alone,” Mom reassured me, taking center stage as I scooted off to the side. Hands hovering over the MK3, I hit RECORD and gave Tempest the signal. And she began – with a bit of a whisper, slowly building up to a regular voice as she sang the lyrics.
Joyce was great with the piano, though I had a bit of difficulty keeping in time, as I had always used my headphones to listen as I played the drum pads. However, I was pretty good at it.
By the third chorus, Tempest’s voice was full and emotional, almost sobbing as she pushed her heart into the words. Even Twilight, Spike, and Rarity began to join in a little as the song ended.
“That… that was amazing,” Joyce said with pride, hugging me close as I stopped the recording. “Probably one of our best sessions yet.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” I whispered over her shoulder, as Tempest gave me a teary-eyed smile.