A feeling of pure dread sank into Octavia the moment she bleared into consciousness. The purity of the the sheer terror she felt as she glanced around the living room of her parents house cut through all five layers of the most intense hangover she had experienced in recent memory, and struck right to her very core. Bottles covered every conceivable surface, and even a few others besides those. The only piece of furniture that was upright and in it's original position was the coffee table--though that was likely due to the fact that a different table had been placed on top of it, and upside down. And was covered with bottles.
The bottles being everywhere wouldn't have been so much of an issue, if they had all been standing upright, and had been mostly empty. Neither of those seemed true for the majority of cases. Octavia could see the spills on the couch from where she was, and her father's favorite antique chair was actually nowhere to be seen, but a mound of various things suggested it might be by the doorway, somewhere.
Still in shock, she got shakily to her hooves. One of her hind legs sloshed into a puddle of indistinguishable liquid that had pooled on the carpet. She gave a passing glance at the object which she had been using for a pillow, which turned out to be the doormat. These things receded into the background, however, as Octavia took in the sheer number of ponies strewn about the room, almost as haphazardly and covering nearly as much surface area as the bottles. A few stirred a bit, but none of them seemed completely awake yet. Octavia could pick out three of the four ponies who she had actually invited to the party, piled on the couch with several others that she had never met before. In fact, a quick survey revealed about one in seven to actually be ponies she had ever seen before.
Octavia spun around to go check the other rooms, but was interrupted by the floor rushing up to meet her face. A moment of flailing around revealed that the pile of blankets next to Octavia, that she had tried to walk though, actually contained a pony, who somehow had managed to get tangled up in Octavia's legs.
“Mmph-wha??” said the pony.
Octavia scrambled up and was about to apologize, until she saw who this pony was. It was the fourth pony Octavia had invited. The one that had convinced her having a party when her parents were away was nothing but an awesome idea. That nothing would go wrong. That the only thing better than a party with a few ponies was a party with a lot of ponies.
All the terror and panic drained from her body, and the initial shock of the situation went out like a light. The white unicorn before her brushed the bright blue mane from in front of her eyes, and made a noble, but unsuccessful effort to open them. Octavia's face went red, and her panic was replaced by a rage so intense it was nearly holy.
“VINYL SCRATCH!” Octavia roared, lancing out an accusatory hoof, which terminated a mere inch from the pony's nose.
Vinyl's body, though hungover to the point of being incapacitated, registered the very clear intent behind such a cry, and a primal instinct kicked in, rousing Vinyl to point of having at least half a chance at surviving the immanent mortal peril.
“Whaaa?!” was what Vinyl cried out, and flopped over on to her back shielding her face. Around the room, various other ponies made similar such noises, and the seven ponies that had been lying on the couch flopped ungraciously off of it.
Octavia grabbed Vinyl and pulled her to her hooves. “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Octavia shouted gesturing wildly around the room.
“Whaaa--oh Tavi, it's just you,” said Vinyl, finally opening her eyes. “See, just as you woke me up, I was having this dream where these manticores were chasing me through the streets of Ponyville--”
“YOU'VE DESTROYED MY HOUSE!” Octavia screamed in the unicorn's face.
“Maybe it was more of a premonition...”
Octavia grabbed her own head between her hooves. “AAARGHGH!”
“Alright, alright,” said Vinyl. She reached out a tentative hoof, and patted Octavia on the back. “There, there. It's not so bad!”
“Get your hoof off me!”
“Come on, this is nothing! I've seen way worse! And anyway,” Vinyl said, with an angled grin, “that's not what you said last night!”
Octavia froze, her face drained of colour, and then filled back up with red again. “I... whaa?” said Octavia, borrowing Vinyl's previous response.
“It's true, you know,” said a pony laying on the ground a ways away from them.
"Yeah, that was the hottest make out session I've seen in a long time!" said another, from the pile of ponies in front of the couch.
“See? Witnesses! Not even making it up!” said Vinyl. Then she blinked, and turned to the pony by the couch. "Wait, just how often do you watch ponies making out? That's weird, man. That's really weird. You shouldn't tell ponies you do that."
Octavia stuttered for a moment, gesturing vaguely, and then her eyes snapped back to Vinyl. “That's neither here nor there! What's here and there right now is the remnants of what used to be MY HOUSE!”
“Right, right. On it.” Vinyl turned to the room of hungover ponies that had been listening to the exchange between the two. “So. Yeah. Sweet party, right? But.. it's done now! So, go away!” She made a shooing motion with her hooves. “Out with you! Go now!” Ponies began muttering and shuffling out. Vinyl unceremoniously kicked a pony that was still asleep on the floor. “Out! And take some empties with you!”
With clinking and shuffling and groaning, the hungover party ponies filed out of the room, and soon it was just Vinyl and Octavia and the post-party entropy.
Vinyl went over to where Octavia was wallowing in a mixture of rage and panic and despair. “Um, so... maybe it wasn't exactly totally the absolute best idea I've ever had to throw a party at your house while your parents were gone.”
Octavia shot Vinyl a glance that may have incapacitated a lesser pony. “Okay, fine! It was a bad idea! Sorry!”
“Better,” Octavia said.
“It was a totally awesome party though, right?”
“I'm sure it would have been if I remembered any of it. Which is also your fault, by the way.”
“What? How was you getting way too drunk my fault?”
“ 'Hey Tavi, you're not drunk enough! Here, drink this!' ”
“...That does sound like something I'd say.”
They were quite for a moment. “Did we really... uh... do that kind of stuff last night?” asked Octavia.
“Um... yes. We made out. A lot.”
Another moment of silence.
“Is that... not okay?” asked Vinyl.
“Oh, uh, no. Well I...” Tavi looked away. “I just wish I remembered it better or something.”
“...Yeah. Me too.”
Octavia looked up at Vinyl, and then leaned over and kissed her. The kiss drew out for a few moments before they separated.
“Yeah,” said Vinyl. “Pretty sure it felt something like that.” They sat smiling at each other. Then Octavia's face hardened as she looked around the room again.
“I'm still not forgiving you for throwing that party until it's all cleaned up, though.”
“Whatever!” said Vinyl, still with a bit of a silly grin on her face. “Best party ever! We should throw another one sometime!”
“Would you like me to kiss you again?” Octavia asked. Vinyl blinked, uncomprehendingly. “...Ever again?” Octavia finished. “Ever?”
“Okay, point taken! Yeah! Clean-up time! Let's get some garbage bags, and we can get started. We'll be done in no time!” Vinyl looked around the room. “Okay, maybe bring all the garbage bags. And by 'no time' I mean likely all day. As in, with any luck, it won't take more than just today.”