Chapter 4: Now where did I leave all that ordinance?
I’d put up with quite a few obnoxious, full-of-themselves ponies in my lifetime. Mostly by taking them down a peg or two. It’s what I do best (along with being Equestria’s premiere DJ). Now, I have a tried and true method of doing things. If someone agitates me, I’ll usually pull a prank or two, and then wait and see what happens. There was no reason for this to be any different.
Well, that’s what I thought at first, anyway.
“Ok, so do we want to be nice and subtle, or do we do something outright unruly?” Spitfire seemed a little eager to get in on the fun. Mainly because that’s all we did when we were kids.
I think she misses that. I kind of do, too. But everypony has to grow up.
Just... not all at once. “Patience, my pupil. These things take a certain... touch of class.” ‘Class’ being what I’d ironically nicknamed the Sharpie I used for defamation of public property. Also known as writing on people’s stuff. I scribbled a few words on Tavi’s front door, and, satisfied with my work, moved along like a good little vandal.
Spitfire stood around long enough to read it, and burst out laughing. I had to clamp a hoof over her mouth. “Silence, ya shmoe! The coppas will be here any minute!” I scolded her using my best gangster voice, dragging her back into the apartment. It probably would have been much harder to do if I couldn’t just levitate her. Even then... she’s wriggly.
This part? Ok, I’ll admit, this whole next part was totally my fault.
I regret nothing.
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I like to see myself as a rational person. I believe I’ve said this before.
My band mates, however, may not always be. Beauty Brass? She can be the voice of reason when she wants to, but she becomes irrational and... twitchy about the strangest things. Like her sousaphone. Frederick, while rather self-important, always maintained the same stance on things; he, and by association his friends, were above reproach. He considered anyone close to him to be of the highest caliber of pony and made a point of only associating with people of a similar demeanor. Parish? Well, Parish I believe is the only pony I’ve ever met who could have prepared me for Vinyl Scratch. He is an... unorthodox fellow. Even if he’s maybe uttered all of ten words around me in the years I’ve known him.
Now, many ponies often ask me why I chose to play the cello. I give them a variety of answers. But the real reason is that, given how I stand when I use it, and how I have to hold it when I do, that it requires absolute concentration. Pure focus. I can let nothing else in the world interfere. Which has taught me incredible self-control and some rather interesting meditation techniques. I will admit, I do forget to... exercise some of that control in certain situations, but as soon as I have my cello in my hoof I am usually rather calm, serene, and clear minded. The absolute picture of clarity. I-
“Dear god, Octavia, what are you doing to that cat?”
-was none of those things right now. “I’m sorry, Frederick. I can’t... I can’t focus at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s... It’s been a long couple of days. But I can do this. We still have time before the rehearsal. I can do this.”
Beauty Brass stared at me with concern. “Is there something we can help you with? Maybe you need a drink?”
“NO!” Frederick and I overlapped our protests perfectly. “I mean... no. Drinking on the day of a performance is a rather... uncouth idea.” She seemed hurt after I’d yelled, so I tried to be a bit softer.
“Not to mention, you’ve never seen her drunk. There is a reason for this.” Frederick deadpanned, staring at me. I had reason to blush. Thus, I did.
“O-oh...” Her voice was soft, understanding. She really was a good mare. “Well, can you think what the problem might be?”
“She’s probably horny.” Parish said.
If somepony had told me at any point in my life that Parish would say those words, ever, I would have laughed in their face.
“...what?!” Having finally processed the fact that, not only did Parish say words, he said THOSE words, the incredulity of the statement finally sank in. “What are you talking about?!”
Frederick looked very well like somepony had punched him in the face. “Parish, what was that?”
The normally quiet stallion looked from Frederick, back to me, and then sighed heavily. Then he proceeded to say more in the next few minutes than I have ever heard him say before or since. “Look, it’s like that time that kid Noteworthy wouldn’t stop leaving her alone two or three years ago. Octavia, I like you, and you’re gorgeous, but you’re also very hard to approach. My guess is that, aside from the few ponies we have to talk to for work, the three of us make up the majority of your social interaction. Dare I say we dominate it. Now, with that comes two very unfortunate side effects: you have almost no romantic experience whatsoever, and whenever something even remotely romantic does happen, not only are you ill-equipped to deal with it, you very likely don’t recognize your own feelings in the matter. How long has it been since anypony expressed an interest in you, physically? Since Noteworthy? How about before that? The truth is, you have almost no exposure to your own emotions when it comes to matters of the heart. Or other parts of your anatomy. Now I’m not saying you like this mare, it’s rather clear that you don’t. But she’s the first pony in a long time to express that kind of interest in you, and from what I understand, she doesn’t beat around the bush. I’m willing to bet that popped a cork in something, and for as long as you’ve been pent up, having somepony all but throw themselves at you has you in the mood. It’s just so uncommon to you that you don’t recognize it when it happens, and have absolutely no idea how to go about doing something about it. Now, we have at least a few hours before we’re absolutely needed. I know you don’t need more practice, you just need more focus. So as a friend, I’m telling you: GO. GET. LAID.”
You could have knocked me over with flower petals. “I- wha- that’s... that’s absurd! I don’t need to... to debase myself and go find somepony I don’t know... or...”
Beauty and Frederick had also been rather shell shocked at the torrent of information put forth by somepony most ponies assumed was mute. But as I trailed off in half-hearted protests, they stared at me much like Parish was doing: sternly, much like someone who’s watching their friends not taking their medication.
I had no idea WHAT to say about any of this. But they obviously wouldn’t be satisfied until I did... something.
So I went home. It wasn’t that far away. I figured I’d go home, take a hot shower, meditate a little like I do when I’m practicing at home, and then leave for the rehearsal. I’d just tell them all they were wrong and that I was fine.
Then, I arrived at my front door. “...wat. What. WHAT?!” I screeched. I’m not proud of it.
I heard laughing from the apartment behind me as I read and reread the vandalism on my front door. ‘For free sex and cake, apply within.’
I immediately turned around and pounded on the culprit’s door. She answered, opening the door with a rolling “Yeeeessssssss?”
Some pegasus I didn’t recognize stood right beside her. Obviously the one she’d been... engaged with earlier.
I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I wanted to do things to her that would end my career. But then something happened. I got a good, proper look at her. She’d obviously recently showered. She was still wearing her shades, but they were set up on her forehead. And I could finally see what color her eyes were. A bright, contrasting red to her cobalt and cyan blue mane. Her hair wasn’t pointed every which way this time. It hung in little loose ringlets around her face and shoulders. She leaned against the door with all the ease in the world. She was obviously waiting for me to retaliate.
And something snapped. Oh, I’d retaliate alright. I grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and slammed her against my door. Before she could so much as get out a “wha-”...
I kissed her. Hard, aggressive. Untrained. But when I pulled back, she was thoroughly confused. I pointed to the scrawl on my door, and she followed my hoof, her eyes going wide. “Say no. I bucking DARE you.”
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(parts of this story have been omitted because I’m WAYYY to lazy to change the rating)
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There was no part of me at all whatsoever in the world that could make sense of what just happened. I mean yeah, I’ve had plenty of angry sex before. Most of it really good. Outright hate sex? That was a new one to me. I rolled over on the bed, and saw Octavia already getting ready to leave. She turned around and shoved a hoof in my face. “Alright, look. I don’t like you and you don’t like me. We’re both going to have to live with that. But if the short time I’ve spent anywhere near you has been any indication, we’re both attracted to each other. Physically, I mean. This does NOT mean that you can come knocking whenever you want. Try it and see what happens. But we’re obviously not going to get anywhere if we keep arguing and pulling petty pranks on each other.”
I raised a hoof. “I have a question.”
“...what?”
“WHAT the HELL?! Do you have any idea how confusing you are?! I was all ready for you to start screeching incoherently like some bass-wielding howler monkey, or call the cops for vandalism. Or at least the building manager. How did we get HERE?!” I was short on breath, for more than one reason.
“Listen... Vinyl.” She said my name like she was ripping it off her tongue. “I have been under more stress than you can possibly imagine. And more... pent up that I’d care to admit. But I’m not the kind of girl who walks up to somepony on the street and presents herself. So I asked myself, who’s the easiest, closest, most obviously experienced pony I know?”
“Easy? Excuse me?!”
She just raised an eyebrow at me.
“Ok, fine. I’m... more open to sex than most ponies. I get that. But no mare likes to hear that. At least Spitfire is an old friend, I don’t just throw myself at random ponies either. Like I said, I have rules.”
She scoffed. “Oh please. The three date rule? That just means you’re willing to-o-o-aaaa SPITFIRE?! THAT was SPITFIRE?!”
She was totally freaking out. YES. “Oh, yeah. You know, Captain of the Wonderbolts. One of the most influential pegasi in Canterlot? My oldest friend ever?”
“Oh my god. I just threw you against a wall like a common trollop and basically DEMANDED that you have sex with me. I front of Spitfire!” Then something weird happened. I was watching her eyes, cause I thought they were going to pop out of her head, and that’d be funny. But then she just stopped. She got all serious again, and glared at me.
Oh boy.
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(I may end up writing these scenes out in a side story some time down the line, but for now, here’s a nice censorship sentence. Enjoy.)
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A large part of me could not believe what had just happened. After cleaning myself up and leaving Vinyl outside to wonder what in Tartarus was going on, I made my way back to the auditorium. On the way, I decided a few very important things.
One, nopony must know about this. I’d been extremely clear on that to Vinyl (after begging Spitfire not to tell anyone and apologizing for my behavior). Two, I had to do something about all this pent up tension, and fast. Yes, the two (or was it three) round with Vinyl had done much more than take the edge off, but I could still feel more of what Parish had noticed earlier, and it took me pinning a mare I didn’t like against a wall to realize: I was a very frustrated pony. Emotionally and physically.
I did my damnedest to sort out my thoughts on the way, taking the long way around to give myself time to think. What kind of mare was I turning into? I knew I’d had... anger issues, but I did my best to avoid them, or approach irritating situations with a mask of indifference and superiority. It’s true that id had been a rather long time since I’d been intimate with someone. Even the last several years I’d gone into heat I’d simply hidden away in my apartment for a week and... tended to myself.
Maybe... maybe it was a bit of both? I’d just had sex, but I was still tense all over. Maybe I needed to address all of this un-tended anger? I did seem to have a great deal more than I realized. That must be it! I just needed a good outlet for all of my frustration. Yes, I’d yelled at Vinyl good and thoroughly. And the other thing, that had happened. But all it did was create more problems. I wasn’t getting anywhere on the anger management front. I’d gotten to the stage door of the auditorium at this point, but stopped myself outside to think just a little longer.
All I needed to do was find a good way to express all this negative emotion before it got out of hand, and I would be fine. I’d be in control again. I opened the door. “Oh, good.” Frederick looked up and sighed. “You had sex. Let’s get to playing.”
I was going to KILL somepony.