//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 
// Story: Paths Less Travelled 
// by Botched Lobotomy 
//------------------------------//

The pulse of room like pulse of life, pounding through your body. You know when you are close your heartbeats match, and here the music seems to do the same, veins jumping to the same beat that your hooves do. Hey, you could get behind this groove!

{Not half bad. I’ll have to try remember this one.}

{Now who’s cheating.}
Flashing lights paint rainbows on the inside of your skull as you make your way through crowds of ponies toward the stage. They don’t seem to be moving out of your way, particularly, which is strange, until you glance down and see another pony’s coat over your own. Disguise magic.
“How do I look?” you shout, over the vibration of the speaker next to you. Vinyl bobs her head approvingly.

{Like a super hot pony failing to blend in!}

“Like a super hot pony,” she grins, “trying to blend in!”
“Oh do I?” you say, with a grin of your own. “You won’t mind, then, if I go out and enjoy myself?”

{Totally, I’d like to watch!}

Wryly. “If it please the Princess.”
{Nice try.}

{Dammit.}

“And the Princess always gets exactly what she pleases, does she?”
“Is the Princess currently displeased?”
“I’m not sure what the Princess thinks,” you shout, “but right now I’m—” you’re cut off abruptly by the sound of your own voice.
“Vinyl.”
“What?”
There it is again: worked in between the pulse of synths, voice unmistakable through the distortion: “—Vi-vi-vinyl, remember to take out the trash—”
{Oh, you little monster.}

{Nice one, me!}

“—trash, trash, trash, trash, remember to take out the—Vinyl!—”
“I take it back,” you say, curtly, “the Princess is currently very displeased. The Princess distinctly remembers asking you to delete that clip, in fact.”
“Oh. Well, Good thing she isn’t here, then, isn’t it?”
“Turn it off please, Vinyl.”
The music, somehow, seems even louder.
“Pardon?”
“Oh, you little monster.”
You turn and head out for the crowd, wading through and glad of the disguise as your own voice is filtered back to you through six 5000-MagiWatt industrial speakers.

{What are you off to do now?}

{Something completely justified, I’m sure.}
Through the throngs, around back corridors, flash your pass, until you’re back up at the stage again, and kissing Vinyl vigorously.
“The Princess always gets exactly what she pleases.”
“I didn’t know you were quite so fond of controversy.”
You frown. What—?

{Disguise magic.}

{Disguise magic.}
Oops.