//------------------------------// // The Importance of Planning // Story: CUTIE MARK CRUSADER SLEEPOVER AT OCTAVIA'S! YAY! // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// Scootaloo shivered in Octavia’s grasp. “I don’t understand. I was…” Octavia tightened her grip and rubbed the girl’s back to warm it up. “It’s all right, dear. You just had a scare, nothing more.” She backed away for a moment when she realised how much the girl’s body was trembling. ”Goodness, you’re shaking like a leaf, though. Do you want to talk about it?” Scootaloo winced and shook her head. “No, I don’t wanna talk about it, I don’t even wanna think about it. I just wanna forget.” Octavia frowned. “Come now, Scootaloo, what could be so terrifying you can’t talk about it? It helps if you just face it, I won’t tell. Was it a dragon?” “No.” “Was it that cockatrice nightmare where you turn into stone again? Do you want me to get the brush to rub your wings warm?” Scootaloo shook her head again. “No, it wasn’t that.” Octavia lifted the girl’s chin up. “Then what’s gotten you in such a panic, darling? Vinyl never told me you could get it this bad, I’ve never known any pegasus with your condition that got this rattled. A strong and confident filly like you, what could shake you up like this?” Scootaloo bit her lip. “Umm… you.” Octavia blinked in confusion. “I beg your pardon?” “I dreamed that you gave me a collar, and it made me obey everything you said. Anytime I thought about taking it off, I felt my back freeze and get hit with cold whips.” Scootaloo clenched her eyes shut to await the mare's response. Octavia let her rubs turn to gentle strokes. “I suppose your mind would mimic what your body went through. So you dreamed I made you a slave, eh? Did I make you carry all my heavy instruments and call you names?” “Not really, no.” Scootaloo looked away. Octavia tilted her head to try and look the girl in the eye. “Did I make fun of you, then?” “Uh uh.” Scootaloo's wings folded tightly against her sides. The frown on Octavia’s face turned to a look of confusion. “So what did I do to get you so upset?” Scootaloo winced. “You hated me. You said I don’t listen, that I mess up your schedules, and the only way you’d get peace around here is when I’m not around.” Octavia let off a sound that was somewhere in between a sigh and a chuckle. “Oh, silly little goose. Why can’t you just dream of dragons, like a normal filly? You don’t honestly think that would ever happen, do you?” Scootaloo shrugged. “But it’s true, isn’t it? You just spend all day in your room or in the kitchen, you’re always working on stuff, you hardly ever talk to me. I’ve lived with you for a year now and I don’t even know you.” Octavia smiled softly and pulled the filly up onto her lap. “Scootaloo, do you think I have a real problem with you being around the house? Just you living here, following the rules?” Scootaloo shrugged. “I don’t know. You never said so.” “Exactly. When I have a problem with somepony, I tell them, calmly and to their face. I do not have a problem with you, and if I did, you’d be the first to know. If you must know, I think you have a lot of spirit, and a good heart. You need rules, certainly, but there’s no reason to lock you up in any way. I’d never forgive myself if I let a talent like yours go to waste.” She ruffled the girl's mane with another chuckle. The girl winced at that. “You really think I’m talented? But I don’t even have a cutie mark yet.” “Not all talent is stamped on a pony’s flank, darling.” Octavia picked up Scootaloo and put her on her back. She sniffed the air and clearly didn’t like what she smelled. “Now, your bed is positively soaked with sweat, so how about you spend the rest of the night with me, and we’ll change your bed sheets in the morning, let your friends sleep in a clean bed.” Scootaloo gently clung to Octavia, much like she had after her trip to the hospital. “But you said I’m not allowed in your room, it’s a rule.” “Good of you to remember. And do you remember why that is a rule?” Octavia smiled petulantly, wide enough for Scootaloo to see from her vantage point. “Because you have a lot of fragile and expensive stuff in your room and I don’t want to accidentally break anything.” Octavia walked into the hallway, before switching off the lights in Scootaloo’s room. “Exactly. So you just stay still on my back like that, and you won’t risk breaking anything. I’ll carry you out of bed in the morning, and the rule will not have been broken.” Scootaloo smiled as she entered the room on Octy’s back. Beyond the door, the first thing she saw was the desk which held a wide array of paperwork, along with a paperweight that was basically a crystal ball sitting on a pedestal. Octavia’s cello leaned next to the desk, the baton or stick (she wasn’t sure what one called that sort of thing) ready and waiting besides it. Judging from how it was set up, she guessed Octavia liked to keep her instrument close while she worked on new songs, or just to ease off stress when dealing with paperwork. Octavia turned towards her bed, which was placed with one side against the wall at the far side of the room and flanked by book racks. She lowered her head to let Scootaloo slip in and take her place close to the wall, then got into bed herself. She took a deep breath and looked Scootaloo in the eye. “Are you comfortable, Scootaloo?” Scootaloo wriggled and rubbed her face against the pillow. It felt more velvety than her own, and it had the mare’s perfumed scent around. She looked at her and only now noticed how thin Octavia’s neck looked without that bow tie. “Yeah, I’m comfortable. Thanks.” Octavia put a foreleg on Scootaloo’s shoulder and nudged her gently. “If I hear you squealing in the night or if you stir too much, I’ll give you a little shake to wake you up. Is that all right?” Scootaloo nodded, finally realising how bleary her eyes felt. “Sounds perfect.” “And darling, we are going to have to talk about taking you to the spa sometime. You are carrying far too much tension in your muscles, that can’t be healthy. You need a massage, or at the very least some sauna time to relax, otherwise you're going to get worse.” Octavia lay her head on the pillow and yawned. Scootaloo grimaced. “But I can’t go to the spa, it’s too… frou frou. I can reach behind and give myself a backrub just fine. I stretch every day, just like the doctor said.” “I’m sure you’re quite flexible, Scoots, but that is not enough. There’s no need to be frightened of a simple spa visit. Even athletes get massages, especially athletes. I’m sure Rainbow Dash has had to get some, I can’t imagine her physician never ordered it.” Octavia rolled her eyes at the thought. Scootaloo’s ears flattened. “I guess, maybe. I just don’t want to be seen there. Ponies might think I’m turning into a girly girl.” “I’m sorry, but there’s no arguing the matter. I’m going to tell your mother, and I’m sure she’ll agree when she gets a good feel of your musculature. I’m taking you to the spa, and that’s final.” Octavia gave the girl some gentle pats on the shoulder. Scootaloo grunted, resigned to her fate. “But what if ponies see me? What if they laugh?” Octavia chuckled and gave the girl a final rub on her mane. “Then I guess I’ll just have to pretend I’m dragging you along, and you can say boring old Octavia insisted.” Scootaloo yawned in the darkness. “Really? You’d do that?” Another chuckle, and even in the dark, Scootaloo could tell Octavia had a grin on her face. “Canterlot pony, darling. I learned how to pretend before I learned how to talk.” Scootaloo woke up feeling warm and heavy all over. The wall that greeted her as she opened her eyes told her she wasn’t in her room anymore. Oh, right. That nightmare. The grey foreleg covering her told her she wasn’t alone in the bed, either. She noted the damp spot on her back again. The ointment gave her a chill on normal nights, but she felt pretty good now. The warmth from Octavia’s body was more than enough to compensate, and Scootaloo relished it for just another moment before wriggling and yawning. “Good morning, Scootaloo.” Octavia smiled at the girl. “Sleep well this time?” “Yeah, thanks. I feel a lot better. ” Scootaloo slowly rose up under the covers while Octavia got out of bed and stretched out, standing on her hind legs again. She plopped her front hooves down on the ground and rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes, before leaning down and presenting her back. “All right, then, on you get.” With that, Scootaloo slowly clambered onto the mare’s back and held still as she was escorted out. She took in her surroundings again as they went, just so she’d know. Desk right in view upon entering, cello leaning against said desk, both in a spot that caught the morning light beautifully. That big crystal ball paperweight made for a nice piece of decoration, too. Big trunk under the window, closet near the wall where the door was, and a few posters that were clearly a gift from aunt Vinyl. Though, to be fair, with the surprises Octavia had given her so far, it wouldn’t have shocked Scootaloo at all if the mare really did turn out to be a fan of the Rolling Boulders or Metallicolt. Wait, didn’t those guys do orchestral songs for some of their gigs? “Did you ever play for those guys?” Scootaloo nodded towards the posters as they went. She hopped off once Octavia had gotten her out of the room. Octavia looked back towards the posters. “I haven’t played for them in pony, no, but I’ve certainly worked for them. Why do you ask?” “I just thought you were into classical stuff.” The filly looked away, nervous. Octavia merely held her head high with her usual pride. “Oh, I am. But there are a lot of things most ponies do not know about me, dear. I like to keep my professional life and my personal life separated, if I can.” “Oh, sorry. I was just curious.” Scootaloo flashed her a sheepish smile, one she'd had a lot of practice in. Octavia grinned mischievously. “How about I keep it as a surprise for now, and I’ll explain when your friends arrive? Think they can keep a secret?” Scootaloo nodded eagerly. “Sure.” “Perfect. Now, you go and pull the sheets off your bed, and open the window to get some fresh air in. I’ll go fix us up some breakfast, and afterwards you’re free to go see your friends until lunch, how does that sound?” Scootaloo shrugged. “Sounds good. I'll try not to get in your way too much.” Octavia stopped at the top of the stairs. “Don’t feel bad about it, Scootaloo, I just need a little time to set up the things I have planned for today. Trust me, you and your friends will enjoy it.” Scootaloo turned to head towards her room, suppressing a nervous gulp. “Thanks.” The air in Scootaloo’s room was filled with the scent of terror. A tiny twitch on her back reminded her of the night’s frights, and of the many others that come before them, though last night did set a new record. The salve she had to put on her back left her back wet and cold, there was no fixing that. Still, sleeping next to Octavia had alleviated that problem somewhat. Maybe if I started sleeping with one of those warm bags of water next to me, that might help. Scootaloo opened the window, then moved to grab hold of her sheets with her teeth. She bunched them all up, leaving her bed covered only by a mattress. With another glance, she decided to throw the pillowcase in the bunch, too. She popped her head out of the doorway. “Do I just throw them down the stairs?” “No, leave them outside your door. You wouldn’t want to hit anything.” Scootaloo’s wings bunched up at the reply. Come on, I’m not that clumsy. She moved to the stairs and looked down. At the bottom, there was a small table with a tulip-filled vase on it. Okay, I might hit that if I’m not careful, but still. She trotted down the stairs and sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. Octavia slid the plate under her nose. “Tomato omelette with rye bread.” Scootaloo dug in with abandon. The egg melted on her tongue, while the bread was just dry enough to dip into the juicy remains and clean up her plate. Octavia followed suit, but ate more slowly. “Will you be doing any serious scooting today?” Scootaloo shook her head, before gulping down another bite with a sip of orange juice. “No, we were planning to check out the new comic books that came in this week.” Octavia smiled. “So you won’t need another sugar hit ‘till lunch, good. I take it you’ll be getting the new Animal Mare comic, then? You have the bits for it?” Scootaloo nodded solemnly. “Yup, still have some left from when we helped feed the pigs.” “And after that?” The mare bit off another small slice of bread covered in yellow eggy goodness. “After that we’re just gonna read some of our stuff in the park, then head here, if that’s okay. I told them we’d get here by five, gives us time to read the longer stuff.” Scootaloo wolfed down her last bite of bread covered in what remained of two eggs’ worth of omelette with cherry tomato slices worked in. She looked across the table and noted Octavia wasn’t even halfway her meal. Octavia stared at her blankly. “Well, go on, then, brush your teeth and freshen up if you need to. What are you planning to do for lunch?” “Umm, we were thinking of getting lunch at Daisy’s.” Scootaloo’s ears flattened, embarrassed. She realised she hadn’t quite asked permission for that yet, either. Octavia looked away pensively. “All right, make sure you eat on time, then, and get a table outside. I’ll be out of the house as well, gathering some things for tonight, but I’ll try not to bump into you. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” Octavia winked at the girl. Scootaloo blushed. “Eheh, thanks.” The mare took another bite of her omelette and held up a hoof. “Though do make sure you get to Daisy’s in time, darling. If I don’t see you there around noon, I’m going to start looking for you.” “I’ll make sure we get there on time.” Scootaloo went to the bathroom to spray something on her, anything to mask the smell of fear sweat would do. A look in the mirror told her a slight run with a brush wouldn’t be out of order, either. A few brushes over her teeth and mane, as well as her tail, and she was good to go. Scootaloo jumped up in excitement as she exited the comic book store with her friends in tow. “I can’t wait to see how Animal Mare beats the God who Trots.” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “I dunno, Scootaloo, I don’t think Animal Mare is all that violent. They might just wind up talking things out.” “Talk things out? It’s a superhero against a supervillain, of course they’ll fight.” “But didn’t you say that story was different from most?” Scootaloo shrugged. “Not that different. She’s still a superhero with cool powers. She still does crazy stuff all the time, and she’s not boring and perfect like Supermare.” Sweetie Belle fiddled with her saddlebag for a moment to keep her own graphic novels – oddly, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo preferred to call the things ‘comic books,’ whereas Sweetie Belle and all the older patrons of the comic book store called them ‘graphic novels’ -- tucked away safely, before giving a little sprint to catch up. “I still don’t get how absorbing powers from other animals works. Wouldn’t that make her a changeling, taking powers from other creatures?” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t take anything, she can just copy what they can do when they’re close by. It’s like a force field, except every animal has one and only Animal Mare can feel it and use it. How is that not cool? An Earth pony that can get the speed of an ant, that can breathe underwater if there are fish around, that can fly with no wings -“ She covered her mouth with a hoof. Apple Bloom smirked. “Sure, but only if there’s flying birds around, right? Wouldn’t wanna get chicken powers.” Sweetie Belle interrupted whatever retort Scootaloo might launch. “Chicken powers would still be neat, wouldn’t they? They can dig things out, and run fast. Remember that time Fluttershy’s chickens broke out and we tried to get them back into their coop? You’d never catch a pony with chicken powers. They’d be like a stunt pony.” Apple Bloom bit her lip for the slightest moment, but tried to hide it from Scootaloo. It didn’t work. Still, she kept up the charade. “I suppose that’s true. And Animal Mare’s got a family to go home to as well, right? That must be funny sometimes. Or boring, I guess that depends on the story.” Scootaloo scowled. “You mean like your Pioneer Journals? How boring can you get?” Apple Bloom huffed at the presumption. “Hey, historical comics are not boring. Besides, I just wanna get up to speed for when they start printin’ the ones about my ancestors. It’s no different from you and your Rainbow Dash comic.” Scootaloo threw her head back and groaned loud enough for the whole street to hear. “For the last time: Double Sonic Rainboom was a PSA and a collector’s item. I never said I liked how it made her look. I mean, really? Gremlins grounding her?” Sweetie Belle groaned as the argument unfolded. The walk from the comic book shop to Daisy’s Diner had become a veritable trip through the trenches as their friendship had grown. If ever there was something Apple Bloom and Scootaloo could argue over, it was comic books. Apple Bloom kept hers neatly stowed away in a thick trunk that wasn’t even in her own room, Scootaloo kept hers in boxes right under her bed, where they could collect dust. At least, that’s what Scootaloo told them. She neglected to mention the plastic protectors her mother had gotten her to protect her collection, if only for the sake of her image. It wasn’t just in how they treated their graphic novels, either. Apple Bloom knew every pony hero that ever existed, Scootaloo knew every superhero that didn’t, barring the ones that weren’t meant for young fillies, that is. Apple Bloom took pride in knowing her stories had actually happened, Scootaloo couldn’t wait to try out what kind of stories she could make happen. There was just no way of getting from point A to point B without them feeling the urge to one-up one another in terms of taste. Apple Bloom turned to Sweetie Belle. “What did you get, Sweetie Belle? That romance thingie again?” Sweetie Belle blushed. “It’s not romance, it’s educational.” Apple Bloom’s smirk returned. “Sure, educatin’ on how to kiss a colt and how to look pretty.” Sweetie Belle huffed and gave her curly mane a slight tap to make sure it was still in order. “Well, it might come in handy sometime.” Scootaloo smirked along with Apple Bloom. “Uhuh. And I’ll bet you reading that has nothing to do with one of the boys looking like Rumble, right?” Sweetie Belle grinned. “Of course not. Everypony knows Rumble likes you better.” Scootaloo blushed furiously. “He does not. How would you even know? He’s not in our class.” Sweetie Belle held her high in triumph as Daisy’s Diner came into view. “No, but he’s always looking down at you when he’s flying over Ponyville. I think he might want you to join him sometime.” “Yeah, right. Very funny.” Scootaloo’s wings folded on her sides, her head hung low for a moment. Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t believe me? Look up.” The girls all looked straight up above them. They briefly saw a grey shape go from a straight and steady course to veering off sharply and crashing into a stray cloud. A dark-furred stallion followed it and pulled it out with some effort. Scootaloo shrugged and nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Okay, maybe he wants to hang out with me sometime. Not like it matters. What’s he gonna do, give me flying lessons?” Silence fell as they reached the diner. As usual on a Saturday, Daisy’s was already getting crowded with pony folk from Canterlot and Manehattan, tourists there to check out what the food capitol of Equestria had to offer. The girls checked the menus, then Scootaloo checked the time. Eleven o’clock sharp. Octavia’s probably around here somewhere by now. They walked past the gate, sat down at a table outside, and waited for their order to be taken. Scootaloo kept her eyes on the ponies walking past the restaurant. Like clockwork, Octavia passed them by just when the waiter had taken their order. Sweetie Belle gestured towards the mare Scootaloo was looking at. “That was her, right? Your aunt Octavia?” Scootaloo lowered her voice and nodded. “She’s not my aunt, but yeah, that’s her.” Apple Bloom followed Sweetie Belle’s gaze. “And she’s all right with us coming over this afternoon?” Scootaloo shrugged. “She should be. She said it was okay.” “Perfect. So tonight we’re gonna get our cutie marks in making music. Think a flute would look good on my flank?” Apple Bloom looked to her still blank flank. Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin in thought. “Maybe. I think I’d rather have a piano, though, or an organ.” Scootaloo’s ears perked. “Err, girls? I’m not so sure if we can really do that kind of thing. Octavia said she had plans for tonight.” Sweetie Belle flashed a big smile. “That’s great! Then we can try all the instruments at your place while she does what she wants.” Scootaloo’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed in fear. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Scootaloo. It’s just a sleepover. Octavia won’t mind if we have fun, will she?” Sweetie Belle looked at Scootaloo intently. “Will she mind, Scootaloo?” The pegasus filly thought it over for a moment. “No, I guess you’re right. Octavia won’t mind if we try and get our cutie marks tonight.” A few blocks away, Octavia opened the door to her house. She stopped when a sudden shudder ran over her back, sending a chill from the base of her tail to the very tips of her ears. Oh my. I wonder what that was for?