//------------------------------// // Whisky Saga // Story: Trash.demo // by dfkingerperson //------------------------------// Ponies trickled in after the sun set and Neon put them to work immediately. Vinyl recognized most of them, acquaintances and other ponies deep into the scene. A big grey pony she knew called Rocks had come with some tables and coolers and was setting up a makeshift bar in the back, while others set up lights and fans to help with Neon’s performance. The generator was running, a quiet thrumming that told her Neon must have upgraded it. She wasn’t sure why. Sure, the old one was fourth hoof, give or take a few hooves, and it occasionally made weird clunking sounds when it was turned on, but it still worked fine. She had tried to compose a set around the intermittent grinds and clatters it threw out once, but it was so random she had eventually given up. Cranking the music up past sane levels and covering the thing in heavy blankets had been her solution on those nights, even after she had the money to replace it. The thing had crapped out on her before a show once, but that had led to an improvised live concert lit by glowsticks so it wasn’t like the night had been ruined or anything. Sometimes Neon’s need to be on the cutting edge of hardware mystified her. The amount of ponies in the warehouse had increased as Vinyl loitered around the stage, unsure of what to do. There wasn’t any more stage work to do and the ponies setting up equipment near the walls didn’t need any help. Neon occasionally called orders to his helpers while the early guests milled around and Rock’s bar was already running at a decent clip as he served ponies who were trying to get tipsy before the party started. Vinyl stood in place, trying not to look as out of place as she felt. She could leave, but… she also couldn’t. Neon probably would have been happy to see her leave . He’d be able to pretend she hadn’t barged back in on his life. But she wanted to hear his show. Even if he didn’t want her there she had to hear his music again. Every time she told her legs to walk out of the door and back to her apartment she stopped herself before she took a step. She was going to be here, whether she wanted to or not. She stole another glance at Neon who was examining one of the show accessories lining the edges of the room. He was laughing at a joke told by one of the workers. If it was forced she couldn’t tell. After she and Neon had brought in the speakers they had worked in silence until his helpers had come in letting Neon had open up again – to them at least. Some of them had tried to start up some conversations with her, asking how she had been and why she had been gone so long. She deflected the questions with short, rude responses and eventually they left her alone. She just watched them work, talk, and laugh like it was the easiest thing in the world, no effort required. Out of place in what had once been her second home, idling next to the stage and watching the warehouse fill and the evening light fade, she waited for the show to start. Ponies jostled her as they filled up the available space in the warehouse. A lot of them were trying to get closer to the stage and standing stock still made it impossible to ride the burgeoning crowd. She finally moved, letting herself get pushed and bumped away. She didn’t have to see Neon to listen to his set. It was easier to walk through the crowd once she had gotten a few yards away from the stage) The middle of the crowd was still rather loose, though it would probably fill up as the night went on. She kept her head down and in the dark of the room not many ponies could recognize her. It was probably unnecessary as Neon was about to start his performance and she hadn’t met a pony alive that could ignore her little br- Neon when he was in full swing. Pretty soon they wouldn’t care even if they did recognize her, if they cared about a washed up DJ in the first place. Her new shades felt weird on her face. The bridge pinched her nose a bit, the tint was darker, and the frames thicker than her purple ones. Still, it was better than having nothing between her eyes and the outside world. Unfortunately wearing shades in the crowd was a lot different than wearing them on stage. On stage the lights illuminating her would have made them a necessity. In the crowd the shades made the shadows even darker, blurring faces and bodies together and making her stumble around ponies who came out of nowhere Shouts came from behind her as the ponies who were here for the music finally got their wish. Neon must have stepped up on stage. She wondered if he had an extra pair of sunglasses to help with the glare she knew he must be seeing, or if he had asked some of his technicians to turn the stage lights down to compensate. Vinyl didn’t turn around to check. Neon’s show voice, smooth and confident welcomed the partygoers. “Evening freaks and geeks! It’s another boring Friday night, and even though you have jobs and school and piles of work waiting for you to get home you fine ponies have decided to blow it off for a night of fun, excitement, and let’s face it, copious drinking.” The ponies at Rock’s bar gave a small cheer. “Now before I turn on the music and you can forget I exist while you dance with the gentlestallion or mare next to you, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to think about that project you have to present Monday.” A low groan came from the crowd. “I know, I know, but I promise I’m going somewhere with this. Now I want you to think about all the work that you still have to do this weekend. All that studying, and filing, and responsibility, and discipline, and all that crap. I want you to hold all that in your head. You got it?” The crowd was a lot quieter now, everyone listening to what he had to say. “Now repeat after me: fuck it.” He paused. “What, no one feels like humoring me? Come on, it’ll make you feel better, I promise. Now, say it with me: fuck it.” A few scattered voices echoed him. “Now come on, party ponies, I’m starting to get worried.” A low beat began to reverberate throughout the warehouse. “I thought we were on the same page. Don’t you get it? All that shit you have to deal with tomorrow, it doesn’t really matter. All its doing is holding you back. The future ain’t here yet and worrying about it is never going to help. So, say it with me. Fuck it!” More voices answered his call. “You know whose problem tomorrow is? Not yours! It’s some sadsacks’ that either went home and stewed in their own worthlessness all night or had the best time of their life last night after they said?” “Fuck it!” The crowd yelled. “Now in my humble opinion if your mind isn’t one thousand damn percent into having the best night of your life tonight you’re the first guy, and you are late for stewing in your self-disgust In your room. But if you’re the second guy it might be time to say?” “Fuck it!” The crowd screamed. “Fuck yeah! Yesterday’s just a memory and tomorrow doesn’t exist. Feel the moment! Nothing matters outside these walls and the only ponies you need to care about are the ones standing next to you. Now what do we think about tomorrow morning, ponies?” “Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!” the crowd chanted loud enough to hurt Vinyl’s ears. “Hell yeah, that’s what I like to hear!” A ripple went through the crowd as ponies in the middle and back, those here to hang out, drink, and do copious amounts of drugs and alcohol, were infected with the hardcore fans’ excitement, turning their attention to the stage. Part of being a DJ was being the center of a party, a figurehead, but not too distracting. Keep ponies in a certain mood and let them be themselves, unfiltered, for a few hours. Make sure they enjoyed themselves His low beats continued to rumble throughout the warehouse. It wasn’t something you heard so much as felt. Ponies milled around the shadowed room, grinning with excitement. Those were the ones who had seen Neon’s show before, the ones who were keeping the chant going. The apprehension to see what he would play was palpable on their faces, while the few who Vinyl could peg as newbies were confused at how riled up they had gotten so quickly. Well, they’d join the first group soon enough. Neon let the excitement build up for a few moments, subtly altering the undertones until they were practically a tune of their own. Once it peaked he would satisfy them. He liked buildup in his music, probably too much. It was easy to misjudge just how much of teasing audiences could stand before the payoff and changing it on the fly would be audibly awkward no matter how smooth a transition he managed. Making a mistake this early in the night would cast a shadow on everything else and stick out in the crowd’s memory of the night. Vinyl saw the air around her began to warp and colors deepen in the air above her in time to the low music. Neon was deep in concentration on the stage, though she had seen him perform enough to know he wouldn’t show it. He was a show-stallion, first and foremost. His focus was on the audience, how they reacted and moved, what they liked and disliked. He would try and tailor his show to it, changing the tone and illusions depending on what they wanted. Usually they wanted something to party to of course, but on the rare occasion the crowds mood was more somber or wanted something different or experimental he was ready to segue into a new song. She tuned out the sounds of talking and breathing near her and began to focus on the first notes he played. He started off restrained, nothing amazing yet. She had seen him play live dozens of times, though she was usually on the stage with him or behind it. At this point the glow on his horn was probably light enough that it couldn’t be seen with the stages glow behind him and he would be concentrating more on general effects and preparing himself for the harder jobs he would have to do later. Flashes of green and sunlight began to appear in her vision, no doubt helped along by the various colored spotlights placed on the balconies and below. As the fans they had set up before the show started to blow softly she closed her eyes and focused on the sounds, visuals being unnecessary. She listened to the low thumps of the bass, the light percussion instruments he layered in, lightly at first but growing in intensity quickly as the bass grew louder and more insistent. Woodwinds slipped in almost unnoticed, contributing to the discordant feel of the heavy bass against such high and breathy instruments. It sounded light, airy in the beginning, bass notwithstanding. Electronic sounds came next, subtly creeping their way into the melody, overtaking, no, eating the other instruments. Consuming their melodies and taking them for their own. It was a piece that felt organic and alive, changing as it grew older and more experienced. It reminded her of traveling, and the soft breeze that blew around her from the fans encircling the room helped support it. It wasn’t perfect. Part of her felt like cringing over some of the harsher notes he had decided to add, and the track was honestly more experimental and interesting than good to dance to. It was, unfortunately, a track that was made to take all your attention, to be distracting, not savored. A song made for a concert, not a party, where the music was supposed to fade into the background and just enhance the audience’s own experience. She suspected that most of the care he had put in was going over most of the crowd’s heads, though she didn’t open her eyes to confirm. It was still early. Maybe he was just introducing himself to the audience through his music. Neon’s biggest weakness and his biggest strength were the same. He was in love with ideas and concepts, and too often it led to him to ignoring the practical side of things. At his best he could make things Vinyl never could have imagined, experiences that went beyond just music and basic crowd hyping. But it hobbled him because he was never satisfied with truly refining and testing his ideas. He was too easily distracted by the next frontier he wanted to cross. He had gotten better as he learned more about music, but he unconsciously slipped back into old habits from time to time, especially when he didn't have her or anyone else around to reign him in a bit. The song faintly reminded Vinyl of his early tracks. They had showed promise but were ruined by their own over-ambition, Neon trying to stuff too much into the song until it was just a mishmash of ideas with no real coherence. He had grown out of it quickly once she had pointed it out to him, but she had been soft in her feedback and his eagerness made him ignore the underlying point. She had never felt like he wasn't listening to her; she had held his rapt attention with every word she said. But he never really seemed to understand it. He would rush off as soon as she had pointed out the flaws and fix them, as close to how she would have done it as he could. Vinyl used to worry that being too harsh would kill his creativity so she had slacked off on criticism, trying to speak in the most general terms about things he could do differently or might want to try. She thought that he had to find his own voice. The brass and woodwinds gave a final gasp, sounding out clear over the synthetic sounds that had taken over the song before disappearing, and Vinyl felt her heart clench as she recognized the chords. They were from one of her own songs, an early track of hers that she had been faintly embarrassed by for years. He used percussion instruments rather than the heavily modified synth tracks of the original but it was still recognizable. The song he was playing wasn't a remix, so the progression was probably just put in as a homage to her. A little nod hidden inside a greater whole, easily missed by ponies who weren't intimately familiar with the original. The music became more stable, simpler. Something ponies could dance to and hum whenever they remembered the night. He would keep it up for a while until he felt the audience needed a change or he wanted to talk to them again. She listened for a few more moments, but the interesting parts were probably done. She could hear it just fine. Maybe even critique it a little. But that was all. She had needed a new song to listen to, something she hadn't heard a million times before and dissected in her mind. She had to see if anything came to her, any melody she thought she could do better, a feeling she thought she could convey easier, a flicker of inspiration, anything. Nothing came. It was just music. Vinyl thought that she had already felt the depths of her frustration while she was staring at blank computer screens in her apartment. The way her stomach rolled made her miss her old misery. When she opened her eyes she could see pinpricks of light surrounded by almost pitch blackness. Blinking a few time she realized it wasn't her eyes but Neon’s illusion. Stars, she guessed. Most of them were orbiting in the roof of the warehouse with a few floating in front of her face lazily. Out of reach but close enough that that you could fool yourself into thinking maybe if you could reach out you could touch one. A few ponies around her were trying just that, idly swiping while they danced. Logically she knew that breeze would be the last thing she would feel if she was actually traveling through space, but they made her feel as if she was moving even with all four hooves planted firmly on the ground. Neon always made good experiences, and a big part of her never stopped being amazed at what he could do while mixing. She let the crowds take her away again, their movements more subtle the farther into the back of the warehouse it led her. The rear was sparsely populated, at least when compared to the mass of ponies Vinyl had just came from. There was walking room and the music was low enough that yelling wasn't necessary to talk to the pony next to you. The speaker behind the temporary bar was vibrating slightly with the sound. It couldn't seem to decide whether or not it wanted to crap out completely and force its owner to shell out for a new one or work just well enough that he thought it would make it through another set. It seemed to settle for a slight static undertone and randomly dropping the beat every few minutes. A few wooden stools were set up in front of the table Rocks had set up earlier. There was a steady stream of ponies walking ordering drinks but only one was actually sitting at the bar. He was talking animatedly to the bartender, spilling some of his drink with every gesture of his hooves. A lamp on the bar gave the bartender enough light to see by as they deftly flicked the tumbler, magic touching it only for a moment. It wasn’t Rock, like she expected. The shape was too small to ever be mistaken for that hulk of a pony. She was on the small side, wearing a fedora at a jauntily tipped angle and a loose tie around her neck. The music lulled as Vinyl slumped onto a stool and Neon’s voice rang over it. “–Minty, is that you? I have a dentist appointment tomorrow that I was going to skip! Guess I don’t have to call in to cancel, huh?” A mare’s scream answered him and the music ramped back up. Vinyl’s head fell to the oak bar. She was going to get as drunk as possible and then stumble home. The pain of a hangover would at least distract her from remembering tonight. “Here you go, Vine.” She felt something bump into her head. She lifted her head but the bartender was already at the other end of the bar serving more customers. Taking the shot glass in her teeth she knocked the shot back, the alcohol barely touching her tongue. The glass clattered back to the table, and Vinyl dropped her head again. “Hey, Vine, this guy says that they had a party on the mountain so loud a castle guard came to shut it down. How cool is that?” “Well, he lived next door, so I don’t think it was in any official capacity but-“ “Yeah, yeah, shut up. Vine, I’m crashing at your place for a few days while I do some business in the city. Did you know that hotels share information about their guests with each other? Completely unfair.” Vinyl looked out of the corner of her eye at the pony talking to her. The unicorn was multitasking, serving shots, mixing drinks, and taking money with her magic, all while watching her. “Anyway, Hip says him and some friends are leaving early to go hit the town.” “We are?” The yellow stallion asked confused. “Yeah, you are. Go get them, we’ll meet you outside when Rock gets back to running his own darn bar.” The mare turned back to Vinyl. “Figured we‘d join them. Be like the old days, except without Flick being a buzzkill.” Vinyl raised her head and lifted Neon’s shades over her horn and squinted. A striped fedora was pulled snugly over her head over a horn, hiding her bi-chromed hair under its brim and her teal coat was tinted by the light-show above their heads, but it was clearly Lyra talking at her, a small grin on her face. Vinyl remembered that Lyra’s grins always promised a bad idea somewhere in that teal and white head. The last time Vinyl had seen Lyra was… at least a year ago, right? She hadn't changed much. She still looked the same as the day she had moved out of their apartment. Her mane-cut was better but still short and functional. She had filled out a bit, and finally had grew into her longer than average horn. It lit up and Lyra took a deep swallow from a metal flask as she waited for Vinyl to say something. “Why are you wearing a tie?” Vinyl asked. Not the best question for a long lost friend, but she was surprised she “Huh?” She turned her head to glance back at her body. “The heck happened to my vest? And my pants? Weird.” When she turned back her grin had widened into a smug smirk. Those had always foretold a round of vain self-congratulations. “Forget it, I’ll buy new ones. I’m wearing a tie because I’m a business professional. A mare who has, in- shut the heck up, you’ll get your darn beer- a few short-years become the humble owner of vast amounts of property in and around the Canterlot Mountain-Windy Valley area. Had a few deals I needed to be in person for, and the statute of limitations for, well, a lot of things came up back in September. Decided I might take a tour of my hometown, catch up with some friends, blah, blah, you get it. ” “Wait, you said you’re crashing at my place? How long are you here?” “Who knows, couple days, couple of weeks? I’m playing it by ear. Hey, dude.” She pointed a hoof at the stallion who still sat in his stool. “I said get your buddies. I want to be at the next party in half an hour at the latest.” “Uh, okay?” He got off his stool and wandered off into the crowd. “We’ll grab Neon and be out in five minutes, come on.” Lyra put her front hooves on the bar and prepared to hop over. “Wait, I thought you were handling the bar for Rocks?” Lyra froze. “Oh yeah.” She glanced at the customers still waiting for their drinks. “Hey kid, you’re the bartender now.” She flipped her fedora off her head, revealing a short-cut mane, and onto the head of a gangly looking colt who was trying to slip by unnoticed to the bar. “If you rip Rocks off he’ll probably break your legs.” She vaulted over the bar. “Neon’s kind of doing a set right now. Maybe we can take a rain check or…” “Ugh, fine. Neon would probably moan all night if we dragged him away from his show anyway. I’ll catch up with him later. Just you and me then.” “Uh, I kinda just wanted to stay here and drink Lyra. I’m really not-” Lyra levitated a full bottle onto the bar before grabbing Vinyl’s shoulders and pulling her face towards her. “You can drink on the way. This city has forgot who Lyra Heartstrings is. We need to remind it!” Lyra’s smile was all-teeth and the slightest bit too wide. Vinyl remembered that that was the worst one Lyra had.