//------------------------------// // Talents and Truths // Story: How to Raise a Filly // by CharmingChaos //------------------------------// Finally came up with something. Well, actually, I knew what I was going to write for a long time, but I had to come up with what Tamby's cutie mark would be, but, whatever. Anyways, if you notice anything changing about either of the characters (most likely Vinyl), it's because my stupid crush is invading the sacred pony grounds in my brain with her pretty blond head. So, sorry in advance if Vinyl starts to act a bit crazier all of the sudden. Not my fault, there's an invader. Tambourine bounced into the house, dropping her keys onto the little side table deftly. She was exceptionally happy today, practically skipping - no matter how silly and foalish she knew it was, to skip - down the street, humming a little song to the beat of the swishing sound her long, curly mane made against her neck. "Mom? Mommy? Anypony home?" She shouted once she was fully inside, shrugging her saddlebag off her shoulders, barely noticing it's added weight until it was gone. No answer. Tambourine sighed disappointedly. She should have known nopony would be there. It was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays, Vinyl Scratch had a permanent gig at some upper class cafe across town, and Octavia went to her practice. Her little sister Grace Note was with Octavia, probably - Vinyl's music was too loud for her scrawny little ears. Tambourine settled into the couch with her saddlebag, rummaging through it for her maths homework. Living with her cello playing, practical mother had insured that some of Tambourine's decidedly Vinyl Scratch-ish habits of procrastination were in the process of being brutally scolded out of her. But the grey filly was too excited to do her homework. She shoved the nasty stuff onto the floor and paced the sitting room, glancing at the clock, and then her flank, and then the door in a constant, fidgety pattern. At last the door slammed open and a rather disgruntled looking Vinyl Scratch crashed in, levitating an undefined heap of a combination of Octavia's cello, her own records, and the baby carriage carefully through the narrow doorway. The cello case bumped against the wall with a thud, followed by a shriek of protest from behind Vinyl, and the white mareswore softly. She maneuvered the pile through the door, placing it on the floor and moving aside to let a decidedly miffed Octavia into the house. "Took you long enough," the grey mare grumbled, walking at an odd, loping gait as she balanced a sleeping Grace Note on her shoulder with one hoof. "And you must learn to take better care of my cello. It's a valuable instrument, you know. It was made by the great Mezzo Forte himself, in the Fourth Century of the Lunar Banishment." Vinyl rolled her eyes, spinning back to envelope Octavia in a hug. She licked the angry mare's cheek damply, grinning at the annoyed expression it drew from her wife. "So, you want me to take care of an old-as-my-granny piece of hollow tree? Isn't that kind of silly?" "No, it is not. And please, stop licking me. You're a pony, not a dog, Vinyl. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put Gracie to bed." Tambourine, who had shot from her seat at the first jingle of keys at the front door, had sunk back onto the sofa, a foalish but, in her opinion at least, called for pout on her face. As Octavia left the room, still huffing over her licked cheek, Vinyl took notice of her first filly for the first time since she had come home. She sat down next to Tambourine, squeezing her shoulders in a motherly sort of hug. "Hey, what's wrong, kid? You seemed so happy when we got home." "It's nothing. I should be happy, I guess, and I was, I was super happy just a little while ago, because, well, look," Tambourine shifted slightly in her mother's embrace and jabbed a hoof at her flank. The previously plain grey surface was now emblazoned with a rosy pink heart and a dark, indigo eighth note. Vinyl Scratch gasped, eyes wide as her lips spread into a grin that contested Pinkie's for both joy and size. She scooped Tambourine up in both her magic and her hooves and spun her around in a circle, momentarily forgetting how big the filly was in her happiness. "You did it, Tamby! Octy and I are so, so proud of you! When did it happen, huh? Is it something like that Cadance filly's - er, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza - or is it just music? Come on, Tamby, tell me!" Despite her momentary sadness, Tambourine found herself grinning back at her mother. "I'm not gonna say 'til Mom comes back, it has to be a surprise for both of you." "Oh, come on, please?" Vinyl begged, plopping back onto the couch and fitting Tambourine into her lap. "I'll let you have three scoops of ice cream for desert." "Dinner," Tambourine countered, her eight-year-old brain knowing exactly how this game could be played. "And Mom'll kill you if you do." "What will I kill Vin' for?" Octavia asked, coming back into the room. "Giving me three scoops of ice cream for desert," Tambourine said. "That is far too much ice cream for anypony to eat in one sitting, Vinyl, and you know it," Octavia scolded gently. Singing to Grace Note had calmed her down considerably, and the grey mare was back to her usual calm, collected self. "I don't know, Octy. Show her your flank, Tamby-Cat," Vinyl instructed, still grinning her mile-wide grin. Tambourine obligingly turned her rear toward her mother. "See? That's what happened today." "Well, we're certainly very proud of you, Tamby, dear," Octavia smiled warmly at her. "I, for one, think this calls for a celebration." "Right!" Vinyl gave Tambourine a hoof-bump, still grinning foalishly. "How does the Stable Eatery sound, Tamby-Cat?" "Sounds great! I can't wait to tell Crimson about my cutie mark." Her prior ecstatic state restored, Tambourine went back to bouncing up and down energetically. "Crimson?" Octavia questioned. Tambourine rolled her eyes. "Duh. That filly I met in Ponyville. She doesn't care that I have to moms, and she helped me beat up a couple of the other foals. She's cool." "Ooh, that Crimson. Well, would you like to call her now, or after we come back from dinner?" Tambourine thought for a moment. "I think... later. For now, I can't wait to tell you all about how it happened!" "Well, it's taken you long enough," Vinyl Scratch teased. "Come on, Tamby, tell us as we walk." "Okay, I guess I'll just tell it now. I was gonna wait 'til we got to Stable, but... oOo Miss Staccato tapped her baton against her music stand, coughing professionally over the general hubbub of the foals wandering around the room and unpacking their instruments. "Class? Foals, please come to order, I'd like to begin now." The teaching pony's gentle but stern voice carried remarkably well. The foals grumbled as they shifted into their seats, rustling music papers and briefly finishing conversations in hushed voices. "It's good to see you're all present today, fillies and colts," Miss Staccato observed cheerfully. "Now, as I'm sure you all remember, last class I gave you all an assignment that was a bit different from the usual. I told you to compose a short piece of your own and asked that you learn it for today's lesson. Does anypony feel confident enough to play theirs? Treble Joy's hoof shot into the air, and the overly eager squeak that came with it made Tambourine snort with laughter. She hid her face behind her fiddle in an attempt for her outburst to go unnoticed, but it was too late. " 'Rine? Do you have something you would like to share with us? Your parents are both talented musicians, I'm sure your composition will be a pleasure to hear." "Oh! Uh, yeah... About that... I mean, um - well, I guess I could come up with something now?" Tambourine said doubtfully, blushing slightly and trying to block out the other students' titters of amusement. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, 'Rine. Go on, we're all listening." The teacher's smug tone made Tambourine feel as though she were burning up. She took a deep breath. Okay, 'Rine. You can do this. Come on, prove her wrong. Another deep breath, and Tambourine lifted her bow in an aura of purple magic, pulling the first notes out tentatively. She quickened her pace, eyes narrowing in a frown of concentration, artfully turning her song from slow and melancholy to a happy dance. The other foals watched in awe as the little grey filly spun a tale of notes out of her instrument, letting instinct take over as her hoof slid over the strings, almost faster then the pony eye could follow. She pulled pieces of other songs in momentarily, then let them go as she arched back into her own composition, enjoying the freedom of it, and the feeling of complete control. Tambourine kept adding onto the tune, even crashing a few well-chosen wubs into the mix to add excitement, until she felt her flank tingling from sitting in the same position for so long. She drew out a final, minor note with a sigh, and sat back, tired. A moment of complete, pristine silence filled the school room, and Tambourine glanced at the clock impatiently. Her pupils shrank as she noticed the time. Fifteen minutes? I was playing for fifteen whole minutes, I can't believe it. It felt like closer to two. And, next thing she knew, Miss Staccato was patting her on the back, congratulating her. "You did a splendid Job, Tambourine. I'm quite proud of you. Congratulations." "Yeah," Tambourine smiled modestly. "I guess I did, didn't I?" "Not only that, 'Rine. Look." Miss Staccato pointed at Tambourine's flank. And then, Tambourine was screaming and hugging Rose Bud in the play yard outside, because Miss Staccato let them out early as a treat. She couldn't have been happier, not for anything. Well, except if Rose Bud had gotten her cutie mark too, but it would come with time. So, Tambourine settled for being ecstatically happy about her own cutie mark, and hopped the entire way home, despite how incredible foalish it was. She was no longer a blank flank - nothing was as foalish as lacking a cutie mark. oOo "So, that's what happened," Tambourine finished, settling into her chair at the restaurant. Octavia leaned over to give her first daughter a hug, squishing a rather fidgety Grace note between them. Tambourine pushed her away. "Ew, gross. I don't wanna touch my sister, she drools too much." "That's not very nice," Vinyl chided. "You drooled all over me all the time when you were a baby, and I still touched you." "That's different. You're my mom. You have to take care of me because otherwise Princess Celestia might take me away." Tambourine scowled at Vinyl Scratch, still leaning away from Octavia and Grace Note. "Not very, Tambourine," Octavia argued. "We're all family, it should mean that we all love each other equally. That includes Grace Note." "Octy is right, Tambourine. But we'll stop lecturing you on loving your sister for now, because we're here to celebrate your cutie mark tonight, not teach you about loving your sister. Come on, Octavia. Drop it for now, let's get this party started!" "Fair enough." Octavia smiled. She waved over a waitress. "We're ready to order, please?" "I'm terribly glad to see you again, dearie," the waitress said cheerfully, smiling. "And congratulations on the fillies. Both of them. I'll send a free ShirFilley Temple over for the older one." "Wha - how do you? - Oh my Celestia!" "Yes, dearie. It's me again," the waitress smiled again, showing a few more teeth then Octavia thought necessary. "How have you been doing lately?" "Who are you?" Octavia asked, half angry. "I think if you're going to keep waltzing up and talking to me and my family in random places, I at least ought to know who you are. I'll call the ponice if you don't, you could be some crazy pedofile, or a murderer, for all we know!" "Oh, I think you know quite well who I am, Dearie. At least, I thought you would. Really Octavia, you have gotten dull of late." "No - hey! You have no right to insult me! I don't even know you!" "You do, Octavia. You know me very, very well. Everypony knows their own mother when they see her." "Look Sunny, I really don't thi - Wait. Sunny... Tai... Sonata - Mother!" "My, what a clever filly we are," Sonata smiled warmly. "I'm so glad you finally figured it out." "Wha - but - what the - how - where's your horn?" Octavia spluttered, eyes wide. "You aren't a unicorn, what the hay happened? Did you disguise it or something to fool me?" "No, Octavia dear. You remember when I... ah... after the trial - " "When you threw a huge temper tantrum and flung yourself off the Canterlot Bridge?" Vinyl Scratch arched an eyebrow at Sonata sarcastically. Sonata winced. "Well, um... anyways. They pulled me out before I could drown fully, but I was in a coma for seven months afterwards. When I finally awoke, I had no memories, except a few, such as I recognized a picture of you, and I knew who Cresh was - poor dear, he's rather sick at the moment. Caught a nasty cold of some sort. And, when he told me what happened, I felt awful. I don't remember what my life was like before, but I must have been a terrible pony, to try to take away my own daughter's foal. What I said that first time we met was true, you know. I do want to apologize - that's why I came to San Franciscolt in the first place." Vinyl squinted at her suspiciously. "You sure that's the truth, Sunny? Because, at least how I remember it, last I saw you you were convinced that the very existence of ponies like us was a sin against all things pony." "Yes, that's what Crescendo told me as well," Sonata sighed sadly. "I can't imagine saying anything like that, I know the words of Celestia as well as anypony, and she said nothing against... fillyfoolers, if you'll pardon the common phrase - I wish I could say the same. I only hope that you'll believe me and accept this as a genuine apology." "Why should we?" Octavia asked suspiciously. "You tried to deliberately ruin our lives last time we saw you, why should we trust you now?" "That wasn't me, Octavia. I'm a new pony, now. My entire being has changed - even my cutie mark. You remember, don't you? It used to be a string of notes and a treble clef, much like yours. Surely you remember?" "Yes." Octavia nodded slowly. "You still haven't told me about your missing horn, though." "Oh..." Sonata sighed. "It was waterlogged from my... ah, fall. They had to amputate it, because the magic was no longer mine to control, and it could have hurt other ponies as well as myself. So yes, I'm an earth pony now. It's not as hard as you might think, though, because I have next to no memory of being a unicorn. But I do have scars from the surgery." The blue mare lifted her mane to show a circular white mark on her forehead, and Octavia frowned, looking at the spot, checking for signs of a horn concealed with magic. She glanced at Vinyl, suspecting she was doing the same thing, and the white mare shook her head slightly. "Tell you what." Sonata whipped out a little pad of paper, grasping a pen in her mouth. "I'll meet you outside after your meal. I'll give this to one of the waitresses after you tell me what you'd like to eat." "What? But, aren't you - " Octavia started, confused. "A waitress? No, not me. I just borrowed the outfit for the night." Sonata waved a hoof dismissively "Now, if you don't mind, your orders, please?"