There’s a saying spoken throughout most of Equestria. Manehatten can be vibrant, filled with life, the luxurious dream of an upper class pony. But if you’re not on that scale, well…you can get pushed into an alleyway with the blink of an eye.
It was this saying a young Octavia thought of as her adversary approached her. The mare was unsteady on her long legs, like they were too tall for her only recently grown body, but her eyes showed none of this. They were cold and unforgiving.
Tavi took a hoof-step backwards and bit her lip as her small hoof splashed into a puddle, chills running throughout her whole body. “Please,” she begged as the older mare approached. “Please. You can’t, you never have –”
The mare cut her off, scorn evident in her voice. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
Octavia shut her eyes, dreading the inevitable, and wished for home. She wished for luxuries and silks and fancy items surrounding her. Not this. She never asked for this.
It began to rain.
Vinyl levitated a napkin towards a still shell-shocked Octavia. “Tavi, so sorry, I had no idea you’d react this way…well, technically, I did, but, hey, it was worth a shot, right?”
Octavia took the napkin and dabbed at her mouth delicately, ignoring Vinyl’s half-baked excuses at an apology – for good measure she began to clean the area that she had spat at as well, including the cup – no drop could be left untouched.
“…I mean I know you didn’t want me to talk or even think about it but I really couldn’t stop, and you know, it could be a changing experience for both of us, even if it’s only for, like, a day!”
The earth pony blinked and held up one hoof. “Slow. Down.”
Vinyl’s white cheeks flushed a pale, rosy pink. “Sorry.”
Tavi didn’t reply, scrubbing at a particularly irritating smear on the table she conveniently hadn’t noticed before.
“So what I was saying is that—”
“No need to say another word.” Octavia’s purple eyes were stern; her gaze unwavering, her expression cold. “You want me to trade my personality, what truly makes me…well, me, with your personality? Trade quiet, fancy, respectable, for loud, slob-like, and wild?”
Vinyl winked. “Only for a day.”
Tavi groaned. “You’re missing the point.”
“I’ve had the right point all along.”
“If that’s what you want to think, fine.” Octavia turned her nose away. “But we’re not swapping personalities.”
Vinyl’s ears lowered. “But…but…I thought it might be good for me. You know, to maybe behave better in the future and make you happier to live here?” Her scarlet eyes twinkled with stars, growing large and hopeful. It wasn’t often one saw the most successful DJ in Canterlot using puppy dog eyes, and Octavia hesitated, if only for a split second.
What would she be like, with Vinyl’s brash, wild mind? What would she do differently? What could she do differently?
Last night’s conversation burst into her mind like a firework explosion, and she knew. She knew what she could do. She supposed the question was, however, would she do it? But that answer…that answer was obvious.
Octavia bit her lip, convinced her mind was made up yet not convinced simultaneously. “Only for a day?” she managed to squeak, voice barely louder than a whisper.
The smile of Vinyl Scratch grew bigger than the moon. “Only for a day.”
Her horn began to glow, the light bright, the light intense.
The rain got in her eyes.
Octavia trembled, squinting to see through the flurry and mist, horrified to find she was failing. Her opponent was nowhere to be seen, and on clumsy filly hooves she couldn’t take a few steps in any direction without falling. Lip trembling, she didn’t dare call out, in fear of being heard. Anywhere, the mare could be hiding. In the fog she could be standing, smirking at Tavi’s uselessness and confusion, toying with her. She should give up now. After all, she would never be brave. She could never fight back. She would never be strong enough, never ever, never ever ever.
Her opponent was bored now, and Tavi could feel it as she struck.
The filly was barreled over by the force of the kick that slammed her against a wall and causing her nose to bleed and her muzzle to bruise; tears streamed from her face as she lay limply against the ground, not even bothering to get up.
The mare approached her slowly, mouth curved in a smile of pure excitement. Octavia stared up at her, eyes pleading for mercy.
They stared at each other, mare and filly, and in that moment, a decision was made.
“I am going to kill you,” said the mare.
Octavia closed her eyes, her tears mixing with the rain.
It only took a second, and then it was over. Octavia didn’t even feel anything, not really. Just a horrible, searing heat on her temple, then absolutely nothing, like a blankness had swept through her mind and washed it clean.
Once she presumed nothing more was going to happen, she bit her lip and opened her eyes.
For a moment, nothing at all seemed to have happened overall. Vinyl looked at her, clearly just as puzzled as she was, when Tavi felt a searing pain in the back of her mind. Not being able to help it, she let out a horrified yelp. The high-pitched buzz rung in her ears incessantly, never once pausing. From the way Vinyl was clutching her hooves to her ears in shock, Octavia could tell she was experiencing the same difficulty.
Then, suddenly, it was over.
And the whole world was fuzzy.
It was like her mind had been walking along a nice clear path with lots of bright light and happy birdsong and other nice things and all of a sudden it had entered an incredible fog. It blundered around, making a mess and making stupid decisions, and…
…and she liked it…
Octavia grinned, but the grin was slightly lopsided and her next words were scratchier and more blurred, almost incoherent at times. “Scratch?”
Vinyl looked up, and by her widened eyes and her rapid breathing, Tavi knew she was experiencing something similar. “Y-Yes?”
“I am going to go out there,” the cellist proclaimed, smiling like an idiot, “and kick some ass.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes and sighed. “Good luck with that.”
Octavia winked and turned towards the door, having the full intention of slamming it open and calling to the whole word that she, Octavia, felt so absolutely alive that it wasn’t even funny, when she felt a hoof on her shoulder; she turned to see the unicorn staring at her. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Going out to the world.” Tavi made a sweeping gesture with one hoof and giggled maniacally. It felt so good just to let everything out like this. “Going out to show the world who its master is.”
Vinyl’s gaze lowered. “I don’t usually act like that, do I?”
Octavia gave her a deadpan stare. “Course not, Scratchy. You’re normally worse.”
“Ha ha, so funny.”
The sarcasm translated right into a genuine compliment. “Thank you!” Tavi beamed, showing her full smile. “I try.”
Vinyl bit her lip. “It’s nice being you and all,” she began, but the thing is, I’m not sure that I really do like this. It doesn’t seem right to me. You know, I don’t think I’m usually that loud. Or brash. Or…” She visibly winced. “…so stupid.”
“It’s great,” Tavi assured her. “And it’s only for a day, right? That’s when the spell’ll wear off, right?”
“I think so.”
“Then it’s fine!” Octavia snickered and hopped a little up in the air. “I’m off to go kick the world’s ass now.” She winked. “Bye!”
Before Mopey Vinyl could utter another complaint, Octavia clicked her tongue and slammed the door shut behind her, relishing that her mind actually wanted to go run through mud puddles and scream and that her body could follow suit. It was just so easy and wonderful and excellent. Why would Vinyl ever like her own mind better than this?
Octavia shrugged and headed along the streets of Canterlot.
There was somepony she had to find.
Octavia’s eyes were closed, but she was not yet dead; she didn’t dare to open them any further in case that would jinx it. Her small body trembled pitifully in a ball, chest heaving as she awaited what was sure to be certain doom.
But instead of bringing down the fatal strike, the opposing mare spoke again, voice wavering slightly. “I am going to kill you.”
Tavi sucked in a deep breath and dared to open one eye partway.
What she saw made her gasp.
Her opponent was crying.
Tears streamed down the mare’s face as her chest heaved horribly; she bit her lip and shook her head, closing her eyes to try to stop the filly from seeing them flow. “Don’t look at me!” she snapped. “I am going to kill you!”
Octavia simply stared up, eyes as wide as the moon, as the older mare wiped away the tears and inhaled, though shakily. “I’m going to kill you,” she repeated over and over again, like a broken record player. “I – am – going – to – kill – you.”
Tavi shut her eyes and allowed herself to say the first words she had in quite a few minutes. “But…how come?”
The reply was made up of sniffles and sobs, making the words almost incoherent. “Because she’ll throw me out of the house – you know she will! She told me so!”
“So you have to kill me?”
The mare opened her eyes, still shining with tears. “I…what do you mean?”
Octavia got to her hooves shakily, still at least a head shorter than the mare she spoke to, but it didn’t matter. “Can’t you just let me run? I’ll go somewhere else – find an orphanage or something. I’ll be fine, okay? I know you don’t want to kill me, and I promise you…” She smiled weakly. “I don’t want to die.”
The reply came quickly. “I guess you could go…”
Relief washed through Octavia like a tidal wave.
“…but you can’t.”
It vanished just as fast.
“W-What do you mean?”
Though her opponent’s eyes shone with hurt, they were still set solidly in stone, the gaze cold and cruel, unforgiving and upsetting. “She’ll know you’re alive, and she’ll put the blame on me. And if she does that, well…you know what’ll happen.”
Octavia couldn’t process it for a moment.
But as soon as she could, she ran.
The mare straightened up, gritting her teeth. “You little bi – get back here!”
The chase began.
Octavia could have sworn she had never, ever felt more alive as that lovely day when she pranced throughout the streets of Canterlot without a care in the world.
Ponies would stop and tip their hats at her, greeting her as she trotted by, then eat their words as they realized something wasn’t right with the famed cellist of Canterlot. Octavia would simply smile and snicker, occasionally clicking her tongue at a pony or two, which made them stop dead in their tracks for a second to consider if they were losing their minds. This was not Octavia! This was not the Octavia they knew!
Once, a couple actually attempted a conversation – they were infamous among the Canterlot hierarchy, called Jet Set and Upper Crust. They circled the oddly behaving mare like two Timberwolves closing in for the strike.
“I do say,” Upper Crust snorted, “Something seems off about your attitude, Ms. Octavia.”
“I must agree,” Jet Set nodded like he was the wisest pony in the world. “You seem to have been acting…most inappropriately.”
Tavi rolled her eyes. “Ah, lighten up, tight-strings.”
Both mare and stallion visibly gasped. “Did you just…just…?” Jet Set stammered, attempting to place a hoof on what it was exactly he had just taken major offence to.
“You bet I did,” Octavia replied. “Shame it’ll only be for a day. You two deserve it. You’d rather stick your heads into the sun then become loose.” At this she snickered wildly. “Like me!” before continuing on her way down the street, leaving a very confused pair of ponies debating whether they would, in fact, stick their heads in the sun, and if they were to do so, how they would get their heads there in the first place (“I say we request a private coach from the princess” or “I say we request the princess herself!”)
Octavia did not stop walking after that until she reached her destination.
She had never actually been inside a bar before, but she didn’t have to shield her eyes from the flashing lights or cover her ears due to the loud screams and cheers, whoops and laughs. It came naturally to her; she strolled casually to the front table and took a seat, winking at the stallion who arrived to see her.
“Hello, Ma’am. Don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round here before.”
“And I don’t intend to stay.” Octavia’s voice, for the first time that morning, became deadly serious. “I’m looking for somepony. My sister, actually.”
Run. Run, run, run, run, run.
She didn’t know how she did it. How she kept on running and her opponent didn’t. Be it determination, perseverance, or just sheer luck, she didn’t quite care. But finally, finally, the mare behind her stopped the chase, collapsing in the mud created by the rain. Octavia dared to slow to a trot, hiding behind a building so as not to be seen and to catch her breath.
The last words the mare screamed at the sky chilled her to the bone.
“I…I hate you! You may be my sister, but you’ve destroyed me! Do you realize what you’ve done, you little liar? You little bitch? You’ve condemned me! You’ve…you’ve…”
As her sister burst into tears, lying on the boundary between Manehatten and who-knows-where, Octavia turned away, towards the forest, running so that the rain would hide her distraught face.
She thought she would never hear from her again.
And she didn’t.
Not until now.
“I think you’d know her as Harmony.”