It is difficult for me to pin down exactly when I woke up the next morning as I spent either several seconds or an eternity feeling as if my head had been ripped open and completely unable to form a conscious thought. Eventually, the throbbing in my head subsided enough to allow me to string words together.
So this must be what being hung-over feels like, I dimly noted. I should probably be worrying about what in Equestria I got up to last night and the very large gaps in my memory, but all those things could wait while I slept it off and enjoyed the warmth of the other mare in my bed.
My eyes snapped open. Oh no.
I looked around, I was definitely in my room, making for a marked improvement compared to yesterday, but unfortunately, that victory was spoiled by the fact that a strange mare was definitely cuddling me. What did I do last night? I vaguely recalled kissing somepony right before I completely blacked-out, but did I do more? That didn’t seem like something I’d do, but then, I normally wouldn’t dance on a table, drink two (or more) bottles of wine, or wake up in bed with somepony. It couldn’t be that bad though, I thought. The worst case scenario is that I slept with some mare I barely met, we have an awkward breakfast, and I never see her again. Things could definitely be worse.
I turned to face the mare next to me and immediately noted her striking blue mane and far too familiar purple goggles. Yes. Things could definitely be worse. I quickly disentangled myself from my roommate, and poked her with my hoof several times in the hopes of waking her. She groaned and rolled over to face away from me, “No, it’s too early. Give me a few more minutes.”
I was about to yell at her to get up, but decided that in my current condition, making any sort of loud noise would be a bad idea. “Vinyl,” I said, whispering as softly as possible, “Get up, you are in my bed.” She refused to budge.
All of the other ideas I thought of to wake my roommate up had the distinct drawback of requiring me to make noise, and so I decided to drop the issue for the time being and go about my day as quietly as possible.
This started with me spending several hours writing yesterday’s events in my journal and getting a horrendous hoof-cramp in the process (Note: Stop making excessively long journal entries. Nopony will read them but you). After that, I wrote out a timetable for my forming the orchestra, and decided the first thing I should do was enlist the aid of the town in my task as I had no idea how to advertise the fact that I was forming an orchestra to all of Equestria. Hopefully the town government would make itself useful in that respect, I thought as I headed out the door.
An hour later, I found myself on the border of the Everfree Forest, wondering just how I could get so completely lost. I could understand getting lost in the labyrinthine streets of Ponyville proper, but heading to the outskirts of town when I meant to head to the center of town is another thing entirely. The only civilization I could see was a cottage in the distance surrounded by a truly exorbitant number of small fluffy creatures. While I briefly considered introducing myself to whatever pony lived there and asking for directions, I was distracted by a familiar grey pegasus darting in and out of the Everfree.
I cleared my throat when she got close in the hopes of getting her attention, “Uhmm, hello Miss Doo, what are you doing out in the Everfree today?”
The pegasus stopped upon hearing my voice, or more accurately, she tried to stop before crashing into the tree line. A few seconds later she reemerged from the forest, covered in pine sap and tree branches, waving cheerfully at me, “Hi there Octavia, what brings you all the way out to the Everfree?”
“Well,” I said, “This is rather embarrassing, but I actually meant to go to the town center. However, I seem to have gotten rather turned around.”
“Wow,” Ditzy Doo said, landing in front of me, “I know I can get a bit lost at times, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that lost,” she rolled her eyes, creating an altogether unnerving effect, “Oh, except for that time I went north to get the southern birds, or that time when… actually, you know what, I have totally gotten that lost before. Anyways, you are kind of going the exact opposite of the way you should be going.”
“I realize that, Miss Doo. I was about to head back towards town, but thought I would see what you were doing all the way out here.”
“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise,” she said, rubbing the back of her head, “But after the other day, I felt so bad about losing all of your stuff that I started retracing my path to find it. I already found two of your boxes,” she said, smiling enthusiastically.
That was… legitimately unexpected. I had already made peace with the fact that most of my possessions were lost forever, and had actually meant to apologize to the pegasus for being so rude to her. Only a few irreplaceable things were lost, and while their absence stung, it didn’t excuse my poor behavior. Still, her move to make amends greatly enhanced my appraisal of her.
“Thank you, Miss Doo. Might I ask where those boxes are?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, “They are in my house, it’s right next to the town hall so you can’t miss… actually, I will guide you there.” With that, she flew back up in the air and headed back into town, while I followed, grateful to have a guide back into Ponyville.
“This is my house,” she said, after we had made our way back into town, pointing a hoof at a small two story cottage, “Well… it is my house and the Ponyville Post Office. Most of the stores in town double as somepony’s home.”
“Of course,” I said, “Is there any chance I could pick the boxes up later this afternoon? I need to speak with the mayor first, and I would prefer not to carry the boxes all around town.”
“Sure!” Ditzy Doo said, “The door will be unlocked and the boxes will be right next to the door, so just walk on in.”
I nodded my head at that. There was a brief silence, and one of Ditzy’s eyes tried its hardest to do a complete rotation around her eye socket. “So,” I said, “I should really be getting to the mayor’s office.”
“Okay, it’s over there,” she said pointing towards a very tall building right next to her.
“Of course it is,” I mumbled under my breath. How could I have missed the tallest building in town? Thankfully, I managed not to get lost as I walked the thirty feet between Ditzy’s house and the town hall.
“Can I help you?” The receptionist asked as I walked through the front door, not looking up from her paperwork.
“Yes, I would like to speak with the mayor on matters regarding the Royal Ponyville Orchestra.”
The mare looked at her schedule, “Hmm, I don’t see anything about the Royal Ponyville Orchestra on the itinerary for today, and I haven’t heard anything about it either, but I would be more than happy to make an appointment for you.”
“Wonderful,” I said, “When does the mayor have her next opening?”
“Well, she is free now, but you aren’t on the schedule for this week. The best I can do is schedule you for early next week.”
As she spoke, a part of my mind I don’t tend to listen to imagined just how satisfying it would be to throttle the life out of this mare, but unfortunately, that option would be counter-productive. Instead, I opted for a more diplomatic (and less satisfying) solution. “I have been sent here by the Royal Sisters on urgent business, and need to have a performing orchestra ready by the time of the Winter Moon Celebration. But if you are sure she can’t see me for a week, I am sure you can write Princess Luna and explain that to her.”
Before I could finish the last word of my speech, she pointed me in the direction of the mayor’s office. Amazing what throwing around a little clout will do. I knocked on the mayor’s door.
“What is it now, Miss Tape? I am very busy.”
“Not too busy to speak on the subject of the Royal Ponyville Orchestra,” I said as I entered into her office.
“Oh, Miss Melody,” she said suddenly getting up on her hooves, “I didn’t expect you to come find me so soon, the letter indicated you would be taking some time to get to know our little town better.” Why in Equestria would Luna’s letter mention that? And why didn’t she tell me she was sending the mayor a letter?
“I have spent the last two days getting to know Ponyville, Mayor…” I looked around her desk for some indicator of her name, “Scroll. Now we have a lot to do if we are to have anything resembling an orchestra ready by the time of the Winter Moon Celebration, so we really can’t afford to delay. I am planning to have auditions this Friday and I am going to need your help spreading the word to the general populace. What are your suggestions?”
Based on the way the mayor’s legs were shaking, she seemed to think a majority of the blame for the orchestra’s (inevitable) failure would fall on her. I found myself in no hurry to dispel such a notion, “Well… obviously, we will need to let every musician in Ponyville-”
“And beyond,” I interjected.
“Of course, every musician in Ponyville and beyond needs to know about the auditions, I suppose we should… put up flyers. Yes. Flyers. That should help spread the word.”
I narrowed my eyes, “Flyers. That would make a wonderful addition to the advertisements you will be taking out in papers across Equestria.”
“Oh… uhmmm… yes, of course we will take out advertisements in newspapers. I am so glad that Celestia sent smart enough to know that such an important step was obviously implied. I will take out an ad in the Ponyville Gazette at once, and as for the other papers…”
“Once the other papers get word of the fact that Princess Luna is basing her orchestra in Ponyville, they will be sure to carry the story. When they interview you, and they will interview you, be sure to mention that the auditions will be this Friday at noon and that all aspiring classical musicians should come. After that, they will spread the word for us.” After the last two days, I enjoyed being in a situation where I wasn’t the only one dealing with certain doom ( Speaking of doom, I must not forget I still have to talk with Vinyl when I get back home).
After I was confident that the mayor would do what she could to spread the word of the Royal Ponyville Orchestra, I returned to Ditzy Doo’s house to claim the possessions of mine she had recovered. I somehow managed to balance the boxes on my back, and a short time later, I was walking through the front door ready to spend a few hours unpacking.
“Hey there” Vinyl said, as I jumped backward at the unexpected sound and sent my boxes tumbling to the ground.
“Oh, let me help you with that,” she said, easily grasping the boxes with her telekinetic field and levitating them up to my room. Sometimes, I hate unicorns.
“So,” I said as Vinyl came back downstairs, “About last night…”
“Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it?” She said, smiling enthusiastically.
“Well, the things I remember were certainly fun at the time, but my problem is that I can’t exactly remember everything we did,” I said rubbing the back of my head.
“Then, what is the last thing you remember?” Vinyl took a seat at our dining room table while I moved to sit across from her.
“The kiss.”
She let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, well you didn’t really do much after you kissed me, you just mumbled about how I am the only one that understands you, and then how you are so lonely, then it got really incoherent, and then you fell asleep.”
First of all, I would never say any of those things, and I certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and second of all, “Why were you still in my bed when I woke up?”
“Oh yeah, that would be… well… I did try to leave, but you kept freaking out and saying you needed someone to talk to, and I was pretty drunk too so I thought I would just sleep there. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but yeah… I can see how you might get the wrong impression about things.”
Lies and perfidy! I would never say anything like that. I certainly wouldn’t confess to needing somepony to talk to, that’s… I’ve spent my life on my own, and I never needed anypony. That’s completely against my character.
“I… no, that can’t be right. I would never kiss somepony like you or babble like that. This… you must be misremembering things.”
“Wait. You are accusing me of lying?”
“Misremembering.”
“Misremembering, lying, whatever. You would accuse me of making something up because it doesn’t fit with your view of yourself? You’d accuse the pony you called ‘your best friend’ last night of misremembering things when you were so black-out drunk that you couldn’t even REMEMBER what you did last night? And what do you mean somepony like me?”
And I had almost gone one entire day without shoving my hoof in my mouth. Damn it. “Yes… well, that is a very simple… there is a simple explanation. I merely meant to say that I… After all, you are just a…”
What? She was just a DJ? I certainly thought that when I first met her, but she had proven to be quite talented at her craft, and she was no less an artist than I was, even if her instrument was rather pedestrian. So what was my problem with the idea of kissing her? It shouldn’t even count considering I could barely recall the night, so why in Equestria was I getting so upset?
“It’s… I am sorry, I haven’t contemplated the idea of being intimate with somepony in quite some time, and to find out that I would completely ignore my reservations after a few drinks is somewhat startling.”
Vinyl tapped her chin, contemplating what I had just said, “That still doesn’t explain what you meant by ‘somepony like me,’” she said.
My answer did completely ignore that question, didn’t it? If I knew what in Equestria I had meant by saying that, I would be more than happy to tell her.
“I… I honestly don’t know,” I said, sighing as I rested my head on the table, “During the past two days you have proven to be the best friend I had ever had, and your patience in dealing with me is commendable. Yes, I did look down on you for being a DJ initially, but on closer inspection, you seem to bring an artistry to the craft that I thought impossible. So, I don’t know.”
Her expression softened when I finished speaking, “Tavi, has anyone told you that you are a magnificent idiot?”
“Yes, you, constantly over the past two days.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, smiling, “But only because someone has to keep that ginormous ego of yours in check. I mean, you are just so detached and standoffish, it’s like we are talking to a wall. The only time you’ve opened up and talked with ponies and been kind of cool was when you were drunk.”
That wasn’t a fair assessment, I have been quite cordial with everypony I have met in town, barring a few notable exceptions, and I even tried to make amends with those ponies I had wronged. “I admit, I can be a bit more… reserved than the average pony, but that doesn’t mean I am not friendly. I just prefer behaving in a professional and dignified manner.”
Vinyl facehoofed, “That is the problem, Tavi. It is fine to be all prim and proper when you are doing work stuff, but when you are with friends, and I don’t know that if you count us as friends, but when you are, it’s okay to let your mane down. If you don’t ponies might think you are intentionally keeping them at foreleg’s length.. ”
Did my excessive formality push ponies away? No, of course it didn’t, I just cared about presentation, something most ponies these days seemed to neglect. So what if I was the last proper pony in Equestria? That doesn’t mean it is wrong, it just means that I have higher standards than other ponies. Right?
I stared at my roommate. I wanted to say something, but I felt wrong. It felt as if a wound had been ripped open inside of me, and I was struggling to find out what caused it. The only thing I was sure of was that I would not let Vinyl see me have one of my episodes. “Excuse me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even, “I have to go to my room.”
With as much dignity and poise as I could muster, I stood up, walked up the stairs, and went into my room. Vinyl might have said something as I left, but I wasn’t listening. After that, the façade broke, and the sobbing began. I had been doing so well too, it had been months since the my last hysterical sobbing episode, but this time I could not figure what had prompted it.
I flopped over on my back and stared at the ceiling, tears running down my cheek. Was it Ponyville? My move here had been rather stressful, so it was plausible, but the town was the last thing on my mind when my last incident occurred. On the other hoof, I had been acting out far more since I came to Ponyville, so the idea that this episode was related to my other outbursts wasn’t inconceivable.
There had to be a solution, I thought as I closed my eyes, replaying the events of the last few days in my mind, looking for connections between my outbursts and stimuli. Vinyl was present for all of these outbursts, but all of the ones except for today had led to me becoming absolutely infuriated. Today was the first time I ever had one that ended in me weeping. Perhaps I was getting too involved in the situation. If so, my new friends might undermine my ability to do my-
Vinyl’s words came rushing back to me, and the timeline dissolved. She was right. She was absolutely right. Just then, I had called upon the old standards of propriety and professionalism to justify pushing away the only friends I had ever made. The realization made my chest feel as if it were about to implode. Still, I thought as I began to regain my composure, the situation was salvageable. I hadn’t managed to alienate everypony in town yet, and quite a few of them still wanted my friendship, like Vinyl, Lyra, Bon Bon, and even Pinkie. Yes, I made a mess of things in Canterlot, but I had a fresh start here. And to start that, I would have to swallow my pride and apologize to Vinyl. I crawled out of bed, calmed myself, and headed downstairs.
“Vinyl,” I said as I reached the landing, “I am… sorry. You were right.”
“What was that?” She asked, pretending not to hear me.
“I said, ‘you were right.’ I do tend to push ponies away and not express myself unless I am properly incensed or intoxicated, but I would like to get better about that.” I smiled slightly, “And I would like having a friend like you to help me out.”
My roommate smiled, “The answer was yes last night, and it hasn’t changed since then. Besides, you are super fun when you get drunk.”
“Well, my goal is to one day be a bit fun without having to be drunk.” I said, sitting down next to her.
She chewed her cheek in thought, “We might have our work cut out for us, but… yeah, I think we can do that.”
“And about the kiss?” I asked.
Vinyl shrugged, “It is what you want it to be. I mean, it’s not the first time I got kissed by a drunken mare. If it makes things awkward between us then just forget about it.”
“I think that forgetting about it is easier said than done, Miss Scratch.”
“That is up to you, but for me, personally, I would rather not start up a relationship because you got drunk. Anyways, it isn’t that big of a deal; we all do silly things when we are drunk.”
I tried to think of some clever response, and while I deliberated, Vinyl spoke up, “If all that is settled, what are we gonna do today?”
“Truthfully, I thought I was done for the day. I have spoken to the mayor, we sorted out last night… in a sense, and now I plan to write down the day’s events and practice the cello.”
Vinyl yawned, “Yeah, that is boring. I have a gig tonight, you’re coming with me.”
I narrowed my eyes, “I highly doubt your audience would be all that interested in listening to a string piece, and I definitely don’t think they would be able to hear me over the raucous.
She nodded, “Definitely, so it’s a good thing you are going as a guest and not a performer.”
“Oh, well, I do have a lot of writing and practice to do tonight, and I would hate to get behind on it,” I said, “So have fun with your party, try not to be too noisy when you get back.”
Vinyl shook her head, “Nope, you’re going.”
“But… but I have to practice for the orchestra.”
“Tavi, you are quite possibly the best cellist I have ever heard, skipping practice for one night won’t undo years of training. No excuses, you are going.”
I sighed and mumbled some things I would rather not repeat under my breath. Still, I thought it would probably be good for me to get out and socialize a bit more, and going to support Vinyl seemed like something a friend would do (In this one particular instance, I am not going to go to every party she has to DJ for, that would be far too time consuming).
“Alright, what time is the party?” I asked.
Vinyl looked at the clock mounted on the wall. It was a quarter until five, “About an hour, but I need to get there early to set up, so we should probably leave about… now.”
She got up and headed towards the door.
“Excuse me, don’t you need to bring your DJ stuff?” I asked, looking upstairs.
“Oh… uhh… no, they have most of the equipment and stuff over there already, I just need to show up.”
“Alright,” I said, following her out of the door. I don’t know how DJ things work, I would never perform without MY cello, but I suppose DJs are a bit more flexible. Besides, those setups would be an absolute nightmare to carry around and pack, and I highly doubt it would be possible to move them without a team of ponies or one very talented unicorn. I decided to ask about that.
“Vinyl, how do you move all of your DJing equipment anyways? It seems rather cumbersome.”
“Well,” she said, “The stuff you have seen so far doesn’t move at all. That is my work station. When I have a party, I have a smaller set up that I can get through doors a bit more easily. Also, Pinkie is really good about making sure I have a turntable when I need one.”
“Yes, she does seem to have an… uncanny ability to keep a party supplied with everything it needs.” I recalled the incident last night where she managed to manifest out of nowhere with my cello, and wondered again how the pony could so casually disregard the laws of physics before deciding that the answer would probably be more confusing and impossible than the question. Pinkie Pie did not play by the same rules as everypony else and probably didn’t even play the same game.
After a few more minutes of walking, we reached what looked to be a library that was built inside of a tree. Ponyville architecture is odd. “What type of party do they have in a library anyways?” I asked.
“Well, it’s not entirely a library, it’s also Twilight’s house,” she said as we moved to the door.
“You mean to tell me that Princess Sparkle lives in a library? You will have to pardon me if I find that a little hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” Vinyl said, knocking on the door five times, “Of course she lived here long before she was a princess,” she said gesturing to the sign, which read “Golden Oaks Library” with the words “And Royal Palace of Princess Sparkle” hastily painted below it. Of course the Princess of Ponyville would live in a library.
“Anyways,” Vinyl said, “Why don’t you go in first?”
I nodded at her to thank her for her courteousness, opened the door, and…
Damn it.
A large banner hung down, with the words “Welcome to Ponyville Octavia” written on it in a poor imitation of cursive. The palace/library was packed with ponies clad from head to hoof in elegant formal wear, while a string quartet sat in the corner, somehow managing to play music without making a sound, and the hors d’oeuvres consisted of cupcakes with a caviar frosting. Pinkie popped up from the floor with her hair straightened and a manic grin plastered on her face. She stared at me expectantly.
So this is how I die then. “Pinkie, what are you-“
She cut me off by making a shushing gesture, her other hoof pointing to a sign over the buffet which stated there was to be no talking in the designated party area. When I looked back at Pinkie, she was holding up a sign reading: Since your last party was too loud, I wanted to make sure this one was extra quiet and super fancy. I even went to Canterlot to see the finest parties in Equestria.
I mentally facehoofed, “And did any of those parties have a no talking rule?”
She shook her head.
“Alright then,” I said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, “While I appreciate the effort, I have no problem with conversation and fine music at a party, I just don’t like it when all of those things are so overpowering you can’t hear yourself think.”
“Oh,” she said, before turning back to the other party goers, “You can talk everypony!”
The other guests let out a sigh of relief, and in seconds the library was filled with the sounds of muted conversation and classical music. I could hear Vinyl snickering behind me. “And Pinkie, why are you serving caviar to the guests.”
“Simple! I read a book all about fancy parties all over the world, and caviar is considered the finest of delicacies in the Griffon Kingdom.”
“You do realize that caviar is made of fish eggs, right?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “I sure did, but I also know it is super fancy, so I purchased a bunch of soy caviar. It goes really well with the humus cake.”
Soy caviar cupcakes? Humus cake? I wasn’t sure if I would start sobbing first or retching.
“That sounds…” I had to be diplomatic; I couldn’t risk Pinkie having another episode, “Good.” I am not a diplomatic mare by inclination, nor am I a skilled liar.
“Great!” She said as Vinyl and I took our seats, “I got you some,” she pulled a slice of cake out of… somewhere, and put it on the table in front of me while staring expectantly. My stomach churned. “Go ahead, have a bite.”
I grabbed the fork nearest me, and, not wanting to offend my gracious and slightly unbalanced friend, took the tiniest bite of cake possible.
“Mhmm… it’s,” I felt bile rising up my throat, “Good. In fact, it’s so good I am going to save it for later. So I can savor it properly.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, “Okey-dokey-lokey,” she said, apparently satisfied, before bouncing away.
I let out a small sigh of relief. Hopefully, she wouldn’t force me to try any more concoctions she had made up. Vinyl reached out for a bite of cake, and I briefly considered warning her before remembering she was the one who brought me to this party. I smiled at her, “It’s actually quite good.”
She took a bite and her face immediately turned a shade of green not seen in nature, “This… I think I was poisoned.”
I nodded at her, “Yes, well, you did lie to me to bring me to this party so I found it only fair that I lie about the quality of the food.” Sadly, I doubt Vinyl heard me as she sprinted out the door. In hindsight, my prank might have been ill advised.
Since I was here and being forced to enjoy myself, I got up and walked over to the drink bar. Pinkie hopped over towards me. “Ahh, Pinkie,” I said as she approached, “What do you recommend to drink?”
“Ooh! Well, Berry made her special punch, and that is just yummarific, but we also have some sparkly champagne and regular punch for the fillies at the party,” she gestured towards three younger fillies who were going around harassing everypony at the party. The unicorn in the group locked eyes with me, and before I could react the three of them had me surrounded.
“Ooh! Are you Octavia?”
“I don’t recognize her.”
“She sure looks fancy.”
“Look at her cutie mark, even it looks like fancy.”
“How did you get it?” All three of them said at once.
I looked around for any assistance, but it seemed Pinkie had vanished into the ether leaving me to fend for myself, “Well… my cutie mark is a treble clef. I got it when I realized my special talent was playing the cello, and to answer your first question, yes, I am Octavia Melody.”
“Ooh! What is a cello?” The unicorn asked.
“Ah think it’s like a breadstick with cinnamon and stuff on it,” the yellow earth pony with a bow in her hair said.
I felt the urge to rub my forehead grow, “No girls, a cello is like… Well, you know what a violin is right?”
The three nodded their heads enthusiastically.
“Well, it is kind of like a big violin.” It wasn’t technically a lie, just grossly inaccurate.
“Ohhhhh!” All three said at once. Their ability to speak simultaneously was rather uncanny.
“Well why didn’t you just say you play a big violin?” The orange pegasus asked.
“Because,” I said, doing my best to prevent myself from bashing my head against the wall, “They aren’t the same thing. While there are some aesthetic similarities, they aren’t the same thing. It would be like saying a unicorn is just an earth pony with a horn on her head.”
The three were quiet for all of three seconds before the unicorn (Who bore a striking resemblance to the unicorn from the other night) spoke, “Maybe we can get our cutie marks in classical music!”
“Cutie Mark Crusader classical musicians. Yay!” All three of them cheered, before running off to do… something that couldn’t be traced back to me hopefully.
Finally free to choose a drink, I considered pouring a glass of Berry’s Special Blend, before deciding not to have a repeat of last night. Taking a cautious sip of the non-alcoholic punch, I was surprised to find that it had a rather pleasant taste, in stark contrast to the “food” Pinkie had prepared.
I sat back down at my table, surprised to see that Vinyl hadn’t returned in my absence. Perhaps letting her sample Pinkie’s baked bads might have crossed a line in terms of what constitutes a friendly prank. I should probably ask somepony about that before I returned home to face the wrath of an angered roommate.
Those things could wait though, the music was lovely, my drink was delicious, and even though the food was completely detestable, I was quite content. I even found myself smiling as I looked around at all the happy party patrons (and the patrons who didn’t have the good sense to avoid the food). Before I could slip any further, I found a familiar white unicorn approaching, “Hello darling, how are you finding the party?” She asked in her rather peculiar accent.
I nodded at her, “The music and drinks are lovely, the food is… one of a kind.”
“Yes,” she said laughing, “They certainly don’t serve food like that in Canterlot, or anywhere else actually.” It seemed we were of one mind on the subject of Pinkie’s rather “special” hors d’oeuvres selection.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” I said, “But are you from Ponyville?”
“Of course I am,” she said, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason,” I said, taking a sip of my punch, “You just don’t seem like the typical Ponyvillian, You seem to have more in common with some of the mares I know in Canterlot than the ones in Ponyville.”
She laughed, and it seemed utterly impossible to tell if her laugh was genuine or another affectation like her accent, “You are too kind dear. I’ve always said I was a Canterlot pony at heart, and it is nice to hear a mare from Canterlot agree with me.” She tipped her head towards me, “And it occurs to me that we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Rarity.”
I nodded my head before her before her, “A pleasure Miss Rarity, I am Octavia Melody, but please, call me Octavia.” I actually found myself liking this unicorn. She had the same sense of propriety I did, and we both possessed a love of Canterlot. If she hadn’t already offered to pay me a truly staggering amount to play at her soiree, I would volunteer to do it for free. As it was, I would consider lowering my fee.
“Now Miss Rarity, while I have your time, I would like to ask if you have any requests for the event you have planned Wednesday, many clients are rather particular about what songs should be played.” That was true, many clients were particular, but I had never dealt with clients before. Still, I didn’t see why my new friend should know that.
“Hmm,” she said, tilting her head in though, “Truth be told, I am not that familiar with classical music, so I will leave that matter in your hooves. However, I do need you to have enough material to play for between three and five hours.”
Five hours. That was, without a doubt, the longest I had been asked to perform. It was doable, of course, I had had practice sessions that were longer, but it would still be quite the marathon. My plan to offer Miss Rarity a discount quickly evaporated. “Of course,” I said, bowing my head, “that should be no problem; although I do hope I will be able to rest my hooves intermittently.”
“Oh, yes, of course. That is absolutely fine,” she said, “please feel free to enjoy yourself. I am sure my guests will absolutely love you.”
I had heard some horror stories from fellow musicians who had played for the elite of Canterlot. Many held twelve hour parties and only paid if the musician played for the entirety. It was precisely to avoid those types of situations that I had decided not to do private performances, but if I could find more clients like Rarity I would be happy to change that policy..
“I am pleased to hear that,” I said, “Many patrons in Canterlot are far less generous than you.”
“Yes, I have had… dealings with the Canterlot upper crust; a few are quiet pleasant ponies but most are decidedly not.”
I had to laugh, “That, Miss Rarity, is an understatement if I have ever heard one. They are vain ponies who have no original ideas of their own.”
“Yes, they might be just a mite self-absorbed, but if you really get to know them, they are quite… No, they are still terrible.”
We both chuckled at that, “Anyways,” she said, “it was lovely finally getting the chance to meet you Octavia, but I must go and speak with Fluttershy. Poor thing won’t talk to anypony she doesn’t know. Until we meet again.”
There were five (maybe six) ponies in town who I had something approaching friendship with, and I actually liked three of them. It had been a busy couple of days, I thought as I drained my drink. Next, I had to go and meet the rest of the town and convince them not to hate me, and the party seemed a prime opportunity..
Most of the ponies in town were more than willing to give me a second chance, and a few ponies even expressed interest when I told them about the orchestra. There were a few holdouts who were hesitant to give me a second chance, and I remember a pony with a carrot as her cutie mark glaring at me every time I looked at her. Still, most of the ponies in town were more than willing to forget about my outburst.
As I made the rounds, I tried to avoid Princess Sparkle, but she was determined to talk to me, and she soon had me cornered, “How do you like your party so far Octavia?”
I bowed before her, “The music and accommodations are lovely your highness, I thank you for allowing Miss Pie to use your… palace.”
She snorted laughing, “Please, just call me Twilight, Octavia, and there is no need to be so formal, I am just like anypony else. But I am glad you like my ‘palace.’”
‘Oh yes, of course Princ- err… I mean, Twilight, I…” I needed to think of something to say so I didn’t seem like an idiot, “Do you like books?”
Swing and a miss. Still, she didn’t seem to notice the glaring stupidity of my question or was polite enough not to call me on it, “Yes, I love books. I have spent quite a bit of my income collecting rare tomes from all of Equestria. If you are interested I will show them to you some time.”
“That sounds absolutely delightful, Twilight. I always love a good book. In fact when I am not practicing my cello I have my head in a book.” Like most good lies, it was technically true. I do spend most of my freetime with a book, but the book in question is my journal.
“Wonderful,” she said smiling enthusiastically, “I love Ponyville, but there aren’t a lot of literary ponies around here, so it is great to have a book buddy. What books have you been reading lately?”
I hadn’t read a book cover to cover in a year, and now a royal princess wanted me to discuss my literary recommendations with her, it was time for me to improvise. “Ohh, this and that, I have been meaning to read A History of the Unicorn Kingdoms, but I haven’t had the time to pick up a copy.”
“Well, I would be more than happy to loan you my copy of it, this is a library after all, but you have to tell me what you think about Star Swirl the Bearded. Just find me before you leave the party.”
“Oh, I will be happy to Twilight, and thank you for loaning me your copy.”
“Well, this is a library. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t loan you a book.” Of course the royal princess of… something or another was more concerned with loaning ponies books than focusing on her duties, although, to be fair, it was perfectly possible that lending books were a part of her royal duties.
Twilight and I spoke a bit more, with our conversation vacillating between classical literature (her forte) and classical music (my forte). It seems that the two of us have a mutual love of baroque music, and we spoke at length about the composers and musicians of the era. Her interests gravitated towards the role of the conductor and composer, and she professed an interest in the role of the conductor in the orchestra, before stating that the conductor’s responsibilities seemed similar to her role in the Winter Wrap Up festivities, whatever that is.
After we finished speaking, I went back to introducing myself to the denizens of Ponyville, and generally doing my best not to shove my hoof up my mouth, which is easier said than done. However, I somehow managed not to offend anypony else during the course of the party, and, barring the absence of Vinyl, the evening was rather pleasant. I continued to worry over my roommate’s prolonged absence, and so around eight I spoke with Miss Pie.
“Oh! Hiya Tavi, are you enjoying your party?” She asked, bouncing excitedly as I approached her.
“The evening was quite charming Miss Pie, but alas Vinyl is feeling rather under the weather, and I feel the need to make sure she is doing well,” I neglected to bring up the fact that Vinyl wasn’t feeling well because I let her eat Pinkie’s cake.
“Oh…” Her smile faltered for half a second, “Well, when she gets better I will be sure to throw her an ‘I’m glad you are feeling better’ party. I bet she will just love it.”
I did my best to smile, “I am sure she will, Pinkie, but I really must be going now. Thank you again for the lovely party.”
“No problem. Don’t forget your cake,” she said point at the mostly uneaten cake sitting in the center of the buffet.
“Oh, I won’t, but…” I had to think of something clever to say, “Since the party is still ongoing, I feel it best to allow the guests to eat their fill of it. I will pick up the remainder in the morning.” I had no such intentions of letting that monstrosity inside my house, but my answer placated Pinkie and allowed me to slip away from her. I then picked up the book Twilight had loaned me and proceeded back home without further incident.
When I entered back into my house, I found Vinyl curled up into a ball on the couch, her face still tinged green. She pointed a hoof angrily at me, “You! You did this to me.”
“I am glad to see you too, Vinyl,” I said, doing my best to keep calm.
“Oh Celestia!” She said, clutching her stomach, “You… why did you feed me that poison?”
I could have lied and said it was a popular taste in Canterlot. It wasn’t entirely false; humus was popular amongst the nobility. In hindsight, it probably would have been easier if I lied, but for some reason I had decided that friends should tell friends the truth even if the truth is incredibly stupid. “I… well I thought it would make for a good prank,” I said, lowering my head, “If I had known you would have such a strong reaction to the humus cake, I would never have done it.” It might not have been the easiest option, but telling the truth helped assuage my guilt for a few seconds.
“You…” She groaned in pain, “You poisoned me for a joke?”
“I didn’t expect you to take such a large bite of the cake, and if I knew what would have happened, I would have chosen a tamer joke,” my frown grew, “I’m sorry, I just thought that a friendly prank…” I shook my head, unable to finish the thought. “Allow me to make it up to you.
Before she could respond, I had gone upstairs to sort through the boxes Miss Doo had recovered for me earlier in the day. At the bottom of the first box, I found the small black satchel I was looking for. Opening it, I prayed that the contents hadn’t been destroyed in the fall, and was pleasantly surprised to find the vials still intact. I picked up the satchel and carried it back downstairs.
“Grandma Philharmonic made her fortune in brewing and selling herbal remedies and she taught me a bit about her process. It is really quite interesting, combining separate ingredients to make a brew that has properties possessed by none of the constituents. In some ways, I suppose it is like your Fusion Project.” I talked to Vinyl while I mixed the concoction. If I followed my grandmother’s directions correctly, the resulting drink would cure any stomach ailment. If not… well then I would have poisoned Vinyl twice in one night.
My roommate didn’t seem inclined to respond as she clutched at her stomach in agony. At this point, I was 80% sure she was exaggerating the extent of her illness. “Drink this,” I said, offering the drink to her, “It should have you feeling better in a few moments.”
Vinyl tentatively sniffed at the drink, apparently wary of accepting any more gifts from me. “It smells awful,” she said.
“Yes, I will admit that it’s not particularly aromatic, but it works wonders on an upset stomach. I remember, one time, I had the worst stomach bug of my life, and thought for sure I was going to die. My grandmother made this drink for me and I was back on my hooves in an hour.”
She sighed and took the drink from me. A few seconds later, she had downed the concoction. “It tastes awful too,” she paused for a second, “But my stomach does feel a bit better now.”
“I am happy to help,” I said as I brought the mug back into the kitchen, “Get some rest and I am sure you will feel better in the morning.”
“Thanks Tavi,” Vinyl said as she levitated a blanket over to her, “But you know I am still going to have to get you back for poisoning me in the first place right?”
I smiled as I walked upstairs, “Of course Vinyl, but reprisals can wait until you are feeling better. Good night.”
After that, I went into my room and wrote out the day’s events. Since I purchased this journal two days ago, I have managed to fill up almost half of it. Here’s hoping that the next few days can find some semblance of normality.
Addendum:
I awoke several hours later to what sounded like a mare moaning in pain. My first thought was that Vinyl was still feeling the effects of her humus cake. However, I quickly decided this theory was incorrect as the moans were not coming from below me. Before I continue, I must explain that Vinyl’s house shares a wall with Lyra’s house, and my bedroom shares a wall with Lyra’s. Seconds later, I realized the pony making the moaning was most definitely not in pain, and I fled the room to give my neighbors their privacy, I heard Bon-Bon scream something about Lyra’s magic fingers