//------------------------------// // Music // Story: Local // by Seer //------------------------------// Two Nights Prior The night air seemed to make Twilight's tipsiness more severe, and whatever display had gone on back at the Royal Cross had made her mood even fouler. She didn't know what little game they'd been playing, but it wasn't funny. So here she was now, trying and failing to make for home. The fact remained, however, that Ponyville was no simple beast to navigate. Most towns and cities are designed with the intention of making them easy and efficient to traverse, but in Ponyville of course things had to work differently. Whoever designed it, if there was any conscious design at all, had seemingly done their level best to make it as chaotic and insane as possible. Worst of all is that they had succeeded. Lanes went nowhere, streets coiled around back into themselves. Landmarks were in punishingly short supply, forcing one to have to get a handle of the minutia of how row after row of totally identical cottages could vary. A crack in the wall here, a differently coloured door there. It was annoying enough when completely sober. Natives could track these streets without even conscious thought, but Twilight could scarcely forget how far from that she was. No one would let her. After nearly an hour's worth of traipsing around, she finally found somewhere recognisable. The local book shop. It was one of the very few places she didn't feel constantly alienated. The owner never stared at her when she went in to pick up something new to read. He was always kind, and would tell her on every visit that she reminded him of someone who used to live in the town. From here, Twilight could confidently navigate her way home. And she was going to do just that until she noticed it. On the shop's side wall was a chalk drawing. The same infernal design she had seen earlier today on the fountain and at Sunny Pastures. Its very existence annoyed her. It couldn't have meant anything, it was barely one step above mindless scribbling. She lifted a hoof and tried to trace the lines to work out what it was supposed to be, but each time she got lost or mixed up. What annoyed her most, however, was the active awareness Twilight had that she was making excuses. It was the same drawing, no matter how insane. She'd seen it three times throughout the day. Of course it meant something. It was insulting to her own intelligence to keep up this wilfully ignorant charade. She cocked her head to the side, and noticed that on the ground nearby were some faint chalk hoofprints leading from the drawing. She could head home now and go to sleep, just attribute this to some stupid joke among some bored teenagers. After all that's what it probably was. Some irritating piece of vandalism that kept cropping up and disrupting the idyllic town. The fact that it meant something in no way implied it meant something important. Of course, everyone in Ponyville would likely have something to say about the graffiti. She could even ask one of her new friends to explain it her tomorrow. There was no rush to learn the ins and outs of this town. As Spike said, it'd come in time. In the meantime she could wait again, marking time with lonely nights and uncomfortable days. Sweltering hot and alien. She'd wake up covered in sweat and eating the same meals at the same placed. Not included fully, but tolerated as a bystander. Not even included fully by her friends. Friends who weren't doing anything tonight. Friends who couldn't be. Friends who wouldn't lie to her. I should really just go home. She swiped at the lines with a forehoof, smearing them and ruining the grafitti before starting after the hoofprints. Following the trail took Twilight on a winding path through the streets for all of about two minutes. When they ended, it was not in front of some shady building or secret town gathering. The ending was unceremonious, and was simply due to whoever she had been following walking through a now slightly chalky puddle. It would have been thrilling to imagine this pony had done this on purpose to cover their tracks, but Twilight knew full well a town as boring as this would have no such level of genuine intrigue occurring. So much for her little detective adventure then. All she was no was a precious few moments further from home, and pouring with yet more sweat. She seethed at her reflection in the water. The academic in her tried to draw an allegory between this and her whole life in Ponyville. The following of yet another bland, dead spark of interest to her continued detriment. But, when her breathing calmed, Twilight began to hear that there was something out there. On the air were the first sounds of life for hours. The night was still relatively young, and she'd still seen not seen one other pony on the streets. Was this where they all were? Eager for distraction from the latest failure, she trotted through the puddle herself, and in the direction of the source of noise. The cottages weren't as dense around here. So it didn't take her too long to track the source of the noises. When it eventually came into full view, Twilight's heart sank. Carousel Boutique was lit up as Twilight peeked out from behind a cottage. It looked like on offshore lighthouse. A muted cacophony of voices swelled from within. It sounded busy in there. Twilight had really wished Rarity had just been telling the truth at lunch. But this was not the sounds of someone taking it easy for the night. And she'd known all along that it couldn't be as simple as she'd hoped. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but she'd known. And was there any beauty more bittersweet for a scholar than having a hypothesis that terrified them be vindicated? Maybe it was the frustration of not finding out (and clobbering) who was putting up all that stupid graffiti, Maybe it was how tired she was of the stopped conversations, the funny glances no-one made any attempt to hide. Like she was this amazing curiosity, this outsider. Maybe it was a desire to formulate a letter to Celestia? About the time she went over and above to fit in in her new home? Finding what Ponyville was really about by spying on her friend. If anything she could at least be better prepared the next time one of those insulting tests came along, as if whatever quaint tradition they had here needed a test. Maybe it was the burning embarrassment and regret over her stupid answer about the dandelion sandwich. Whatever the reason, Twilight found herself stalking towards the boutique in a wobble of tipsy indignation. She was tired of acting over enthusiastic, tired of pretending not to be bothered by the stares. She could live in a lifeboat, she could live on the mainland, but she was tired of living on an island. She crossed the grass ocean and made it to shore. After a cautious glance around, Twilight snuck into the bushes for a closer look. She knew what she was doing was creepy and emotionally unstable. But 'not adventurous enough for Ponyville traditions' had gnawed at her that whole day. It didn't matter whether it had been explicitly said, the implication had been clear. If it wasn't, she'd hardly be hiding in the bushes right now. Is this what some unadventurous bore would do, Rarity? Just because I like my books and my dandelion sandwiches, it doesn't make me boring. It doesn't. It's this town that is boring. It's all of you. She wasn't snooping, that was the important thing. This wasn't out of some pathetic desire for gossip and forbidden information. She was seeking closure, there was a big difference. If Rarity was having business contacts over, then fine. If this was some secret gathering of mysterious town elders, then fine. If she had all Twilight's other friends around in some incredible sleepover from which she was the only one excluded, then fine. But she'd know, one way or another she would know. She rose up to take a look through the window. The curtains were all drawn but silhouettes flitted around behind them. She couldn't hear defined speech, but there was the characteristic non-specific hum of conversation. Was this it then? The big secret she couldn't find out about? The soirée that the dandelion sandwich-loving freak apparently wasn't good enough for? She seethed, grinding the dirt beneath her with a tense fore-hoof. And just as Twilight neared an edge you couldn't come back from, as she turned around and resolved to go knock on that door and demand Rarity tell her what is was she was apparently not ready for, she heard the laughter. It was mirthful, genuine, good-natured. It was the laugh of someone at a party. Behind the laughter was the kind of jovial background music you have on at a party. This was just a party. What in Tartarus am I doing? Rarity could have been having family over, this could be some gathering for local fashion bigwigs. Maybe that's what Rarity's question was about. Seeing how Twilight was on the spot, something that would inevitably happen if she was at some swanky fashion party. Maybe the question was nothing at all. Most importantly, though, was that she and Twilight had only been friends for a handful of months. Easily a short enough amount of time for her to justifiably maybe want to do some things with a closer group of friends. Of course, it stung that Rarity had clearly lied. But could Twilight really begrudge her that? This wasn't her, this wasn't how you made friends. She imagined what the princess would say if she could see her now. How disappointed she'd be. Twilight burned with shame, hopeful that no unseen observers had witnessed this embarrassing episode. She would take a stealthy glance, make sure no-one was around then make for home and never speak of this to anyone. Not to mention pray Rarity never found out. And just as she was about to put her plan into action, the noise of the party stopped. She stalled, waiting for it to go ahead again. Maybe someone was giving a hushed toast? She was aware of her breathing, the way the foliage brushed her coat, and still nothing happened. Time stretched on, it must have been up to five minutes now, and nothing happened. Why was nothing happening? What was going on in there? There wasn't even the sound of movement, it sounded like the world had been put on pause. Twilight was starting to get weirded out, and once she'd passed that she started to get unsettled. This wasn't normal, this couldn't be normal? Could it? She knew these fashion parties could get quite strange. It would have been ridiculous, but not beyond the realms of reality for someone to have announced that everyone standing silently was some new, in-vogue parlour game. But it would have been ridiculous. She couldn't move, it was too risky. There was a chance, a slight but still possible one, that someone inside would hear her. So she was pinned here until whatever this was came to a close. She was directly beneath a window, but facing away from it, and not knowing what may have changed was like torture. She remained frozen between horror at being discovered, and her mind screaming at her to turn around and look. What if they're all staring at you? What if that's why they've stopped. What if you turn around and see something worse? What if you see nothing at all? And just as the need for something, anything to break the oppressive lull reached a fever pitch, the sound of hoofsteps drifted through the foliage. Twilight forced her breathing to remain even. The reality of potentially being caught literally hiding in some bushes still outweighing the growing nausea at the persistent stillness inside Carousel Boutique. The hoofsteps grew louder as the pony, no wait... ponies, approached. There were clearly multiple footsteps. A couple of light sounding ones with at least one heavier set mixed in there. Twilight chewed the inside of her mouth, she desperately wanted to leave this bush, but now these new arrivals added a second problem. She couldn't go until the party had resumed, and not if there was any chance they would see her. They were taking their time as well, but then who had somewhere they desperately needed to be at this time of night? All the while, Carousel Boutique was completely silent. But Twilight knew there were ponies in there. She'd heard them talking so she would have heard if they'd all suddenly rushed into another room. She'd have heard if they'd all gone upstairs. She'd have heard if they'd left. They must have been in that room, all still and silent but breathing and blinking and thinking. All aware of what they were doing, for minutes and minutes. Maybe they were all at the windows now. Maybe if Twilight turned around she'd see eyes peering at her from the boutique's ever window. She almost wanted to cry, this felt wrong. So, so wrong. She wanted to leave. Oh Celestia, please make it stop. The hoofsteps got closer. From her prone position in the bush, she watched as the night-walking ponies went by. They were closer than she'd first realised. From where she was Twilight could have reached out and touched them. There were three in total, one red, one white and one grey. They walked leisurely and then they stopped. Directly in front of her. Twilight held her breath and waited for the accusations to follow. The only rational explanation was that she'd been seen. But, as was becoming a sickening theme, nothing happened. The hooves remained there, and there were still no sounds from inside Carousel Boutique. Twilight forced herself to keep her breathing shallow and even. They must have known she was there. There was simply no way they wouldn't have seen her if they were this close. Or maybe they were preoccupied with looking at something else. Namely whatever was going on inside Carousel Boutique. Maybe the curtains were open now, and these three bystanders were rendered mute with terror at whatever they saw inside. Maybe they were waiting for her to just come out of her own volition. She should do that. Fair play, she'd been caught. Time to give it up, time to come out. Never mind the fact that every instinct screamed that this wasn't normal. She remained still. Suddenly, the sounds of music from within the boutique resumed. Only this time, it was much louder than before, and it was no longer normal party material. Now the get-together was soundtracked by one of the most awful things Twilight had ever heard. It was without melody, consistent rhythm, joy. Essentially anything one might love about music was something that this piece seemed to gleefully lack. Harsh staccato notes pushed their way into Twilight's ears, its beat changed on a bar by bar basis. It sounded like someone had managed to condense the sound of insanity into pure noise. All the while, those hooves in front of her were totally motionless. Surely they heard the dissonant music, surely they saw her. What was going on? What on earth possessed Rarity to allow that music to be played at her party? Twilight's heart hammered as the tension frayed her mind. This was so stupid, and yet here she was getting actual tunnel vision because of music induced stress. But the sound. It was like trying to listen to fifteen simultaneous foreign languages and decipher meaning when you only knew a few phrases in one. It was the sound of waking up to three new rows of inflamed, bleeding teeth in your mouth. It was the sound of finding a loved one not breathing. It was the sound of watching the flames after you'd set alight your childhood home. It was the sound of watching a friend drown and not making a move to help them. It was the sound of watching yourself decay. Twilight bit the inside of her mouth until it bled. Why weren't those hooves moving? Twilight fought to keep her breath quiet. Saline sweat stung eyes she couldn't wipe. Rear hooves dug into dirt, anything to work the tension from her body. The noise from inside wouldn't abate. She was going to crack. It was so utterly awful, she didn't know sound could be this bad. A thousand instruments crashed and played over one another without the barest pretense of cohesion. Twilight wanted to chew her tongue out. Why wouldn't these ponies just leave? Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, the interlopers moved on with the same taunting calm with which they'd arrived. Twilight gave it an admirable, though nowhere near sufficient, period of time before she pulled herself from the bush and sprinted away. Whatever tipsiness cultivated by her earlier nightcaps seemed a hundred fold worse. She fell several times in her panicked rush back to the mainland, terrified the verdant waves might pull her under. She made it into the folds of cottages and leaned against a wall, struggling to catch her breath again. She managed to brave a look back at Carousel Boutique. Lights that seemed comparatively dimmed from before still filtered through the curtains, which remained mercifully closed. The sibilant screech of tinnitus masked her hearing for a second, though through it she could swear she could make out a chorus of screaming, malicious laughter. Her heartbeat roared against the still night. Then at once, the sound of the boutique's front door shutting cleared everything. She could hear again, and she heard nothing. The music wasn't playing anymore and nothing was filling the vacancy it had left. For a second Twilight wondered whether it had ever been on at all? There was still no apparent movement from behind those curtains. Where had those three ponies gone? It was all too much for her right now. Twilight's eyes bulged, head twitched, and then she doubled over and vomited. She brought a shaky forehoof to her brow to cleanse it of sweat, she then lowered it to wipe the caustic filth from her mouth. Twilight shut her eyes for a moment, allowing her breath to steady and the burn in her throat to subside. A gentle, soundless breeze cooled sweat dampened skin, her tongue worked to clear teeth of bile. Out in the night, distant wind chimes tingled. As she stared at the ground, though muffled behind those windows, Twilight heard Rarity's distinctly musical giggle. She snapped her head up and didn't find any sign of her friend. In fact there was very little difference in the scene she saw, save for the fact that every single light in the boutique had gone out.