//------------------------------// // Welcome to Fillydelphia // Story: Synchronization // by Terrasora //------------------------------// The train sped on and on, blazing a trail through winding tracks. It circled down Canterlot’s mountains, past Ponyville Station, skirting the Everfree and rocketing out into open plains. Octavia shifted in her seat, stretching out one of her back hooves Crack. The cellist let out a satisfied sigh as her joints slid into place. She extended her other hoof. Crack. A snort shot out of Harpo at the noise. He grumbled something unintelligible and turned over, soon back to a full slumber. “Nice,” said Vinyl, her eyes narrow over five playing cards. The purple shades, far too reflective for any card game, lay on the table, keeping watch over a stack of chocolates. Lyra threw down two of her cards, a golden aura sprouting over the deck and two cards floating up to join the ones she held. “That sounded like it hurt.” Vinyl stared at Lyra, red eyes roaming over every inch of the green mare. Lyra was unreadable. “Nah, Tavi likes a little bit of pain.” A beat of silence. Vinyl closed her eyes, bracing for impact. None came. Octavia was still looking through the window, watching the fields whip past. Canterlot was still visible off in the distance, a golden point on a purple field. Vinyl furrowed her brow. “Tavi, you okay?” The cellist turned, blinking again and again. “Fine. Why do you ask?” “Doesn’t seem like it.” “I’m fine, Vinyl,” said Octavia with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Go back to your game.” Vinyl stared at her for a few moments more before turning back towards Lyra. Vinyl threw her cards onto the table. “Three of a kind, Princess high.” Lyra smiled, turning her cards. “Full house.” “Celestia damn it!” Vinyl cried. “That’s like the fifth time you’ve won!” “Sixth,” said Lyra, unwrapping a chocolate piece and flipping it into her mouth. “C’mon, one more time! Double or nothing!” “I’ve already taken all of your chocolate!” Vinyl put her hooves together, eyes sparkling as she stared up at Lyra. “Please! I can get everything together; you know that I’m good for it!” Lyra stared down at the DJ, one brow sharply raised. “You’ve got a gambling problem.” “It’s not a problem if I win!” “But you never win!” “One more game!” Octavia let out a little laugh. “You need to pick your battles, Vinyl.” “For the love of the Princesses,” muttered Harpo murderously, “will you mares ever let me take a proper nap?” “Shut up, Harpo,” said Vinyl in greeting. She turned towards Octavia. “What do you mean ‘pick my battles’?” “I mean that Miss Lyra Heartstrings was the Conservatory’s resident card shark.” “What?!” Vinyl snapped to Lyra. “You’re a ringer!” “I told you that I knew how to play.” “You said that it had been years since you played!” “Yeah!” Lyra grinned, absentmindedly shuffling the deck. “Years since I started playing.” Vinyl stared blankly at the other unicorn. A few beats of silence. “I want my candy back!” Lyra picked up her prize, dragging it over the table and into the seat next to her. “Nuh-uh. I won it, so it’s mine.” “You live in a freaking candy shop!” “I live above a candy shop and I have a sweet tooth, so bleh.” Lyra stuck out her tongue, magically unwrapping a chocolate bar. “Taaaaaavi!” complained Vinyl. “Make her share!” Octavia thumped her head against the window’s glass. “There are two of them now,” she muttered darkly. “Now children,” said Fleur de Lis calmly, sliding into an open seat and laying a small bag on the table. “Fancy Pants told you to play nice.” “She stole my chocolate!” protested Vinyl, stabbing a hoof at Lyra. “I did not! I won the chocolate. Chocolate that you bet and should have been prepared to lose!” “But I thought that I would win!” Fleur giggled into her hoof, magically picking up the deck of cards. “What game?” “Poker,” said Lyra. “Ah. I prefer Bridge, personally.” Lyra smiled. “That’s a fun game too.” “Yes, it certainly is.” Fleur opened the bag, revealing piles and piles of chocolate coins, bags of gumdrops and Jelly Babies, and various other tooth-melting sweets. “Though I do rather enjoy the tension that comes from Poker.” Lyra and Vinyl stared at the bag, their eyes shining as they simultaneously swung up towards Fleur. “Wanna play?” Fleur de Lis smiled, cutting the deck neatly in half with her magic. The two halves lined up, the facing edges bent upwards. Fleur’s shuffle was perfect, every card falling into place behind the other. Lyra and Vinyl glanced at each other nervously. “I thought you’d never ask,” said Fleur de Lis with a shark’s smile. *** Lyra and Vinyl laid their heads against the table, no longer capable of facing other ponies. And certainly incapable of meeting eyes with the demon in a pink mane. The demon smiled sweetly. “Come now dears, I’ve simply been on a winning streak. One more game?” “Everything…” muttered Lyra, “It’s all gone.” Vinyl didn’t say anything at all. “Fleur,” said Harpo hesitantly. “I think that you’ve killed them.” “Oh.” Fleur paused slightly, glancing between the two other unicorns as if seeing them for the first time. “Yes, it certainly seems that way. Care for a game Harpo?” Harpo shook his head furiously, his mouth flapping for a smart remark but, for one of the few times in his life, finding nothing. Fleur pouted in disappointment. “Octavia, I don’t suppose that you would play a round?” The cellist held up her hooves. “I’ve never been one for card games.” “Oh, bother. And it’s such a fine way to pass the time.” Fleur got to her hooves. “Well, I’ve certainly worked up an appetite. Would anypony care to accompany to the dining cart?” “Food?” asked Vinyl into the table. “Yes, dear, food. My treat?” Vinyl nodded, dragging herself to her hooves like a foal straining from bed on a Winter’s Monday. She trudged down the aisle, Fleur leading the way, and the two mares disappeared into another cart. Three former classmates sat around in their seats. Harpo and Octavia stared out the window, Lyra still lay against the table, trying to recover her pride as a cardholder. The scenery had long-since shifted, the wide plains that sat on the other side of the Everfree giving way to the tall, bright trees of tamer forests. “How long until we get there?” asked Harpo. “Hour and a half,” answered Octavia without pause. Harpo nodded. “Fillydelphia…” He let the word hang. Lyra lifted her head. “Fillydelphia... Isn’t that where Frederic is?” Harpo and Octavia nodded. “Oh.” A pause. “Any idea what he’s doing?” “We didn’t exactly stay in touch,” said Harpo flatly. Silence fell on the group. They stared out of the window, lost in the heavy thoughts that come when one would rather not think at all. “So, uh,” began Lyra, “have either of you actually told anypony else about it?” Harpo shook his head. “Fancy Pants? Fleur?” Octavia shook her head. Lyra opened her eyes wide in shock. “Not even Vinyl?!” “No.” “Octavia, we can’t just hide something like this from them! Especially if we’re going to run into Frederic.” The cellist ran a hoof through her mane. “We’ll… We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Besides, it’s just as much Harpo’s problem as mine. He should have a say in who we tell.” Lyra shook her head and turned towards the other pony. “Harpo, you can’t agree with this!” “It’s in the past,” said Harpo with a shrug, his eyes firmly set on the passing landscape. “Old history. No longer applicable.” Lyra crossed her hooves and leaned back into her seats. “Great. So nopony knows anything. Fucking awesome.” Octavia sighed. “I see that you haven’t quite gotten over that sailor’s mouth of yours.” “It’s not as bad. It’s only there when I’m getting pissed. And I’m getting pretty fucking pissed.” A pause. “I guess that you want me to keep quiet too.” “Lyra,” began Harpo softly, “we’ll tell them should the need ever arise, but all of that is water under the bridge. That was a Conservatory issue.” “You’ve only been out of the Conservatory for a few weeks.” “You know what I mean! Besides, it was all over before our senior year. Ancient history.” Harpo nodded confidently. But Lyra still sat back in her seat in that strange way she sat. Her hooves were crossed tight over her chest as she glowered at the two other musicians. “Sure. Ancient history. And what about you two? Are you going to tell Vinyl about--” A loud crunch from the aisle cut off Lyra’s question. “Tell me about what?” asked Vinyl, speaking through a mouthful of Extra-Crunch Peanuts. Lyra glanced at Harpo and Octavia, then turned back towards Vinyl with a sigh. “Nothing.” Vinyl glanced at the three ponies. She threw another hoofful of peanuts into her mouth, cracking down on them with another sickening crunch. “‘Kay,” she said, quickly sliding into the seat next to Octavia. Lyra blinked. “... ‘Kay?” “‘Kay,” said Vinyl with a nod. She turned towards the window, extending a small, brown paper bag towards Octavia. “Want some?” The cellist turned, glancing into the bag. Heaps upon heaps of brightly colored sweets greeted her sight, making her vision waver slightly. Octavia shook her head, turning back towards the calmer green flashing across the window. Vinyl plucked out a few of the sweets and stowed the bag away. “‘Kay.” “Ah!” said Fleur, walking towards their seats. “There you are, Vinyl! I was wondering where you had run off to. She gracefully took her seat, gaze falling on each and every one of the oddly silent musicians. Her magic flared, floating the discarded pile of cards up into the air. “Anyone care for a game?” *** Vinyl stepped onto the platform, stretching slightly, trying to remember how to walk on solid ground. Fillydelphia Station was abuzz with activity. Clouds of white smoke drifted down from the trains, coating the floor before dissipating around the hooves of those departing, arriving, waiting, and waving. Vinyl breathed in deeply, letting out a satisfied sigh at her return to civilization. “Alright then dears,” said Fleur, once their entire group had stepped out onto the platform. “We’ll be walking out to our hotel from here.” Harpo let out a groan. Fleur de Lis turned towards him with a sly smile. “Oh, hush. You could use the exercise.” She continued over Harpo’s indignant gasp. “In any case, it’s only about a five minute walk. From there, we’ll have a quick lunch and you’ll all be allowed to explore the city for a time. Sound fine?” “It sounds like we’re on a field trip,” said Vinyl with a roll of her eyes. Fleur giggled into a hoof before turning gracefully away from the platforms. “Come along now, children. Single file, make sure to keep an eye on your buddy!” The musicians followed after Fleur, the unicorns keeping a firm magical grip on most of the luggage, though Octavia had insisted on carrying her own cello and Fleur had to insist that, as the only stallion in the group, Harpo carry at least one of his own bags. In this way, the five of them walked out onto the streets of Fillydelphia. Vinyl’s head snapped up and down the street, taking in the shops, the cafes, and the buildings, tall enough to draw one’s eyes towards the graying sky but not so tall as to loom over those on the streets. Ponies walked briskly down sidewalks, carefully glancing up and down for passing carts before charging across streets without so much as a backwards glance. Fleur kept up a running commentary as they walked, a bright smile lighting her face as she glanced from building to building. “It’s been years since I’ve been in Fillydelphia, but I do so love the city. It has such a metropolitan feel to it, but without that oppressive feel that Manehattan has.” She glanced at Vinyl. “Though there are certainly many wonderful ponies from Manehattan.” Vinyl shrugged. “Plenty of bad ones too.” Fleur nodded. “Yes, that’s true enough. In any case, there’s a wonderful restaurant not too far from our hotel--We’re turning left here--where we’ll be eating. Fancy Pants has already made the proper reservations.” Lyra shivered. “It’s cold.” “Yes, it is a bit nippy. Must be scheduled for some rain.” Fleur’s magic flared around her home and the bright pink case she carried opened. A scarf, pink and white striped, floated out and placed itself around Lyra’s neck. “Better?” Lyra placed a hoof on the scarf. “I-I have my own scarf! I can take that one.” Her own magic briefly flared, but Fleur shook her head. “Nonsense, dear! I’ll allow you to borrow that one for now. Besides, the pink fits your color rather nicely.” Lyra seemed about to protest again, but thought better about it. Fleur had that motherly air about her that would brook no argument, especially when it came to her children being cold. They turned another corner, onto a street where each passing building seemed to be taller than the last. “There!” said Fleur, pointing out with a hoof. “That’s the Mareiot.” The hotel was a golden affair, gleaming in the little sunlight that filtered through the clouds, a tall, rectangular building with various setbacks and windows that grew farther apart as one went further up. Fleur picked up her pace slightly, forcing the musicians into step as they rounded a fountain that depicted Princess Celestia raising the sun, water streaming out of her horn, and stepped into the hotel proper. The lobby stretched out before them, a small resting area to their immediate left and the check-in desk just beyond that. Immaculate lamps hung on the wall in exact intervals and the carpet was plush enough to make everypony feel that they sunk slightly every time they took a step. “Stay here for a moment,” said Fleur to the others, leaving her packs in their care, “I’m going to go check us in.” Harpo nudged Vinyl’s side, gesturing to a polished oak counter in front of which sat multiple dark black stools. The wall behind the counter was entirely dedicated to glass bottles of every shape, size, and color. “Vinyl,” said Harpo hesitantly, “I think I’m in love.” Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d notice the booze first.” “Not just booze, Vinyl! That’s a whole lot of booze!” Harpo clasped his hooves together, the perfect image of a lovestruck schoolfilly. “Pinch me.” Vinyl turned and punch Harpo in the leg. “Ow! I said pinch, mare!” Vinyl’s magic sprouted over her horn, quickly gathering over the same spot on Harpo that she had just bruised. It pinched, pulling and turning slightly as Harpo yelped in pain. Lyra barely held back a snicker. “Why do they hate you so much, Harpo?” Harpo rubbed sadly at his newest bruise. “Sexism, I think.” Fleur trotted back towards the group, this time accompanied by a tan, smiling earth pony. They came to a stop in front of the rest of the group. “Children,” said Fleur, “may I introduce you to the owner of this fine establishment and a personal friend of mine and Fancy’s, Hôtel Particulier.” She gestured towards the stallion, pronouncing his name with a perfect Prench accent. Hôtel Particulier nodded in greeting and spoke with a gleaming smile on his face and a refined Prench accent. “You may call me Particular if it would be easier for you.” The musicians nodded their thanks. “Hôtel,” said Fleur, “these are our musicians. From left to right, Vinyl, Harpo, Lyra, and Octavia.” Each musician offered a mix of nodding and smiles as they were named. Particular’s eyes shone brightly. “Ah! These are your Syncopated Records! Magnifique!” He trotted forward, circling around the musicians, stopping in front of them with a satisfied smile. “Yes, yes, they have the beginnings of music about them! You have a fine bunch here, Fleur!” His eyes fell on Octavia. “Though this one seems lost in thought. Mademoiselle, are you feeling fine?” Octavia snapped out of her stupor. “Yes! Yes, thank you Monsieur, I feel fine.” She forced herself to stay focused. Particular nodded hesitantly, then gestured forward. “Now, if you will be so kind, gather your instruments, and I’ll lead you to your changing rooms.” He trotted forward, stopping only when he realized that nopony was following. “Changing rooms?” asked Octavia. “Oui, Mademoiselle. Changing rooms.” Particular knit his brow slightly, then glanced at Fleur with understanding. “Fleur, what a cruel trick you play!” he tittered. Fleur giggled in return. Harpo leaned over to Lyra. “They have the same laugh.” Lyra nodded. “It’s scary.” “You see,” offered Fleur, “this is a relatively expensive establishment.” Hôtel Particulier puffed out his chest slightly. “And well worth every bit,” he said proudly. “Yes, very much so.” Fleur smiled reassuringly. “But in order to lessen the cost and stretch out our budget, Hôtel has allowed us to hire you out for a time. In return for food and shelter. You’ll be playing in,” here she paused to look at the clock, “oh, half an hour.” “I thought we were going to lunch!” protested Vinyl. “Yes, we are. You’ll be providing entertainment for the lunchtime crowd in the Mareiot’s attached restaurant.” Fleur beamed and trotted off. “Follow me!” she called back to the musicians. “The dressing rooms are this way!” The musicians stared at each other in disbelief. “She’s insane,” said Harpo. “She’s our boss,” said Octavia. Particular chuckled slightly, motioning for the ponies to follow after Fleur. “Welcome to Fillydelphia, mes amis.”