Everything’s gone wrong. I should have known things would be bad because of the dreams, but I didn’t listen, I… I refused to, and now ponies are pounding at the door and I don’t know how long I have until the last confrontation. In the last twenty-four hours things have gone so terribly, terribly wrong and… well, it would probably be best if I started at the beginning.
Anyways, Thursday night, after I stopped writing I went down to the bar to have something to drink while I waited for Vinyl to return. And then I waited and waited and waited. While I waited, I decided to help myself to another glass of gin, and then a glass of scotch, and then several more glasses of gin. Finally, at almost two in the morning Vinyl walked into the hotel lobby.
“Jusht where have you been?” I asked, stumbling over towards her, far too intoxicated for my own good, “Please don’t tell me you were with her.”
“Oh hey, Tavi,” Vinyl said, rubbing the back of her head. I noticed she had a pair of saddlebags that she hadn’t left the house in, “After we finished registering, I thought I might go visit a bookstore.”
I raised an eyebrow, “You went to a bookstore?”
“Yeah, you know me, always got my nose in a book.”
“Of… course…” I said, making no attempt to veil my suspicion. “Do you mind if I look at them?” I reached a hoof out towards her.
I felt a vice press against my heart as all of my earlier fears of Vinyl leaving me for Homage returned, with the word “rebound” echoing loudly in my head. “Vinyl, let me see the bag.”
My hoof shot out, reaching for her saddlebag, but in my inebriated state I was unable to balance on three hooves and I found myself toppling towards Vinyl, causing the two of us to fall to the floor and the contents of her satchel to spill out. There were several books with titles like Anger Management and Grief Counseling for Dummies. “Vinyl, what is this?”
She floated the books back into her satchel, “It’s… look, let’s go back to our room. If I let you keep making a scene in public, you will never forgive me in the morning, so come on.” Vinyl gestured towards the elevator and I followed along after her. Once we were in the elevators, I started speaking again.
“Why do you have all those books?” I asked as the elevator doors closed.
“Because,” she said, running a hoof through her mane, “I see you and it’s clear you’re not doing well, and I just want to help but I don’t know what to do, so I thought if I did some reading I might be able to help in some way.”
I sighed and for a moment, my frustrations and fears melted away, “You are helping, Vinyl, but this will take time.”
“I know that, but it seems like you are backsliding, I mean, you just spent the last I-don’t-know-how-many hours drinking at the bar by yourself.”
“What’s the problem with that? You and Lyra drink all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’s always with friends. I don’t drink by myself,” she said as the elevator doors opened and we started walking back to our room.
“Look,” I said as I stumbled down the hallway, “I know it’s bad, but it helps take the edge off of things, dulls the memories of Nightmare Night.”
“That’s the problem. I mean, I’m not super well educated about all this stuff, but I am pretty sure that drinking to cope is a very bad thing. Like… super bad,” she said as we walked into our room.
I tried to make a counterpoint but was unable to think of one before Vinyl resumed speaking, “Anyways, look, I’m not judging, I just want to understand and figure out how I can help. I’m not plotting anything or whatever you think is going on.”
A sigh escaped my lips as the tension that had been building over the last few hours found outlet, “I’m sorry for being so difficult, it’s just… her words have been echoing around in my head and,” I felt my throat constrict, “I’m not a rebound… am I?” My voice cracked at the last words and I pressed my face against her neck as an undignified sob wracked my body. Why was I so upset about this? Had her words really struck a nerve?
“No, of course not,” she said, stroking my mane, “Why would you even think that?”
“Because,” I said, desperately trying to think of a reason, “I think it would break me completely.” A laugh escaped my throat, “But I suppose that isn’t really a reason is it? It’s just a fear, a deep seated, unassailable fear that one of the last few good things I have is going to be destroyed, and I hate it. I hate that somepony so important to me can emotionally devastate me with a sentence. I hate that I’ve made myself so vulnerable. But most of all, I hate that I willingly embraced this weakness.” The words spilled out without the any thought or deliberation behind them.
“So, wait,” Vinyl said, pulling away, “Are you saying you don’t want to…” She trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the sentence.
“No, absolutely not. But a part of me misses the old days when the only thing that made me happy was my cello. Now I have to walk around living with the knowledge that at any moment you could decide to emotionally devastate me.”
I laughed at my own words, “And now listen to me, I sound like the clingy marefriend that I always detested.”
“Wait,” she said as we got into our beds, “I thought I was your first marefriend.”
“It was a hypothetical marefriend,” I said, “Back when I was in Canterlot and was battling the pangs of loneliness, I would tell myself how lucky I was not to deal with any sort of romantic relationship as I thought they were far too time intensive, and the idea of somepony’s identity getting so wrapped up in another pony struck me, and still strikes me as, sickening even though I fear I am guilty of the same crime.”
Vinyl wrapped her forelegs around me, “Hey, that’s not what is happening. You’re just having trouble getting used to the idea of being so open with somepony. Believe me, I’ve had similar thoughts.”
“Really?” I asked as I pressed myself against her.
“Yeah, you know, it would probably do the both of us good to spend some time away from each other, so why don’t we both tour Anthro Con and do what interests us and then we will meet up after Anthropalooza, that way we can each do our own thing and you won’t be bored out of your head going to all the anthropology panels I plan on hitting up tomorrow.”
“I have to admit, that does sound rather appealing, and it frees me from having to spend the entire day listening to ponies talk about humans, so there are no objections on my end.”
“Great,” she said, kissing my neck as my eyelids grew heavy, “Now let’s get some sleep, Lyra will probably come knocking on our door at eight in the morning telling us to get up, and I want to get at least a little bit of sleep before then.”
As soon as my eyes closed, I was back in the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Around me, monsters danced and growled, and Discord sat smiling. The small part of my mind that realized this was a dream worked to figure out which death this was going to be. Something pierced my back and a sharp pain raced up my spine. Well, this ruled out the burning deaths, I thought, and the flaying deaths, the freezing death, the explosion death. Only a hoofful of deaths started with something piercing my flesh, and most of them were relatively pleasant.
Then something began to burn in my chest. That meant there were only two possible deaths, envenomation and… The other part of me, the one that still felt every sting and bite and tear from that night shuttered. Please, not this one, she thought, I will take anything, just not this one. Not now, please. Of course her pleas were in vein. After all, I thought, laughing, this was my dream, why should I get what I want here?
The first of the eggs began to hatch. The flaying death, the freezing death, even the immolation death, just not this, she said, repeating her little mantra to herself. Not the eating. She rattled off the list deaths that would have been better while I moved as much of myself to the detached observer as possible. Maybe this time I could escape, leave her to suffer while I just looked on, observing.
I… she felt the larvae squirming inside of her, feasting, growing. She and I both knew it would only be a matter of minutes until they threatened to burst out of her flesh. Her friends and loved ones were surrounding her now. In turn, she asked each of them for help. One by one, they turned their backs on her, until it was just her and Vinyl.
“Sorry, Tavi,” Dream-Vinyl said, “I guess you were just a rebound after all.” Homage stepped out of the shadows and wrapped a foreleg around my marefriend as Octavia watched helplessly. The two of us knew the dream would end soon, and I hoped that this time I would be able to survive the dream unscathed.
Her skin stretched tight as the larvae prepared to burst forth. She bulged and bloated while the pleas for help still escaped her lips. Finally, in the instant when the flesh ruptured, the pleading mare and the detached observer merged back into one being, and all that was left was the sound of a mare screaming into the night.
“Tavi, wake up, it’s okay.” I immediately became aware of two things, the first was a shrill high-pitched shrieking, and the second was that somepony was nudging me. As my brain stumbled back into consciousness, I realized that Vinyl must have been trying to wake me from my nightmare and that I was the source of the shrieking. My mouth closed and the screaming subsided.
“Sorry for waking you,” I mumbled as I regained the slightest bit of composure. “I had really hoped I was done with those dreams.”
Vinyl stroked my mane, “It’s alright, like you said, these things take time, and I am sure there will be a few relapses. It was a bad one though?”
I nodded as I recalled the contents of the dream. “One of the worst.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
I shook my head, “No point in giving the both of us nightmares.”
She stroked my mane as I waited for the sobbing to subside. By the time I had finished, the night sky had turned grey and Vinyl had fallen back asleep. As carefully as I could, I crept out of bed and moved to the bathroom.
There she was, staring me in the mirror, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy, and her mane disheveled. “Why won’t you leave?” I asked her, “I want to be happy, to move on with my life and enjoy the company of my friends, but you just won’t go away will you? No matter what happens, you will keep dragging me back to Nightmare Night, back to…” I trailed off, “You know I hate you right? You’re everything I don’t want to be.”
Vinyl knocked on the bathroom door, “You alright in there Tavi? I thought I heard you talking.”
I mentally chastised myself for being such an idiot. Of course Vinyl would hear me, and of course she would come to investigate. She was a good pony, after all. “I’m fine Vinyl,” I said, smiling even though there was a door separating us, “I was just singing a song while I got ready.”
“Alright,” she said, a note of suspicion still linger in her voice, “Just… let me know if you need anything.”
After that, I heard her walk back to bed and I went back to looking at my reflection. I smiled, I had to really. If Vinyl knew I was still struggling with these silly little nightmares, she would worry and I couldn’t bear to inflict that upon her, so I did what any other reasonable mare would do, I buried all of my stress and fear and donned the mask of normal Octavia. Soon enough, I recognized the face looking back at me.
“A pleasure to see you again Miss Octavia.”
I nodded at her, “A pleasure to see you too, Miss Octavia,” I said, still brushing my hair.
“Glad to see you’re feeling like your old self again,” the mare in the mirror said, “Are you looking forward to Anthro-Con?”
We both laughed at that. “Of course not, anyways, as much as much as I would love to stay and chat, I really must be getting ready for Anthro-Con. After yesterday, I don’t feel like taking any half measures when it comes to my morning grooming.”
She bowed at me and… I realize as I write this that holding a conversation with my reflection might be considered slightly to moderately unhinged, but this is what I perceived and felt at the time. Perhaps Vinyl is right and I do need to see a psychologist but… No, I am the last sane mare in Equestria, I can’t be having any mental issues, it’s just not possible. As to why I was talking to myself, I am still not sure, but it must have been for a logical reason.
After my conversation with myself, I went about my daily grooming routine while Vinyl slept. Flashing the mirror one last smile, I opened the door and walked back out into our hotel room. “Good morning Vinyl,” I said, smiling happily..
“Hey,” she said after yawning, “Are you alright.”
My heart froze for a second and I felt my smile became taut, “Of course I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because that nightmare really seemed to freak you out.”
I laughed, “I had a nightmare, it wasn’t anything real, and I’m certainly not going to spend all day moping because of it.”
She looked me over, and I saw suspicion in her eyes. On the one hoof, I did feel somewhat bad for not telling Vinyl the whole truth, but on the other hoof, telling her the truth would only cause her to worry. No, the best solution for everypony involved was for me to pretend to be recovering well until I somehow reached the point that I didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“Alright,” she said, “Just… if anything comes up, tell me. You know I am here for you.”
I nodded at her and smiled. I know that Vinyl, but I also know that you can’t fix this. No, the only pony who can do that is me.
“Anyways,” I said, clapping my hooves together, “You should probably get ready, knowing Lyra she is already walking around in that ridiculous costume of hers waiting for Bon Bon to tell her its okay to knock on our door.”
Vinyl rubbed her eyes, “But its still so early, I mean, the sun is barely up. Do you really thing Lyra will… Nevermind.”
“So go on and get ready, if we have some time afterwards, you can lay in bed and try to take a quick nap,” I said, before leaning in and planting a kiss on her neck.
“Hey, do you think maybe the both of us could lay in bed or…”
“We’ll see,” I said, still smiling, “Now go on.”
As soon as she entered the bathroom, I let out my breath. She had almost seen through my mask, she had thought something was wrong. Now Octavia her concern is normal, I told myself, after all, you did spend two hours in the restroom.
But she shouldn’t know that, I argued, she was asleep. No… something I did must have given it away. Was I too formal? Informal? I moved to the mirror next to our closet and examined myself. Everything seemed fine, my pupils might have been a bit smaller than they should have been, but that couldn’t have been what gave me away. Everything was fine, so how and why did she think I was lying?
Because I was lying. In hindsight, the problem was blindingly obvious. Thankfully, so was the solution. All I had to do was convince myself that I wasn’t lying, and it shouldn’t be that hard. After all, this was the mare I wanted to be, not the scared crying filly, so it wasn’t even really a lie. No, it was just a… Once again I am struck by the fact that my journal now reads like the ramblings of a delusional madpony. Would it be so terrible if I went to Doctor Whooves and spoke with him upon my return to… the town? He is an old acquaintance, and if, while catching up, I had to discuss some of the dilemmas I’ve been dealing with with him, it wouldn’t be an admission of insanity would it? Of course not. On the other hoof, what would be the prognosis if the last sane mare in Equestria went to a madpony for help? Certainly not positive.
Anyways, back to the story. After finally calming myself down, I made myself comfortable on one of the seating pillows and waited for Vinyl to finish showering. Things would be fine, I told myself, all I had to do was believe that one simple fact with every last facet of my being and it would be true.
Vinyl quickly finished showering, and as soon as she entered into the main room, my anxiety began to fade as we both spent some time in bed… talking before somepony knocked on the door.
“One minute,” I said as I scrambled out of the bed. Hopefully I wasn’t too much of a mess after my conversation with Vinyl. A quick glance at the mirror on the way to the door revealed that, while a few strands of hair were out of place, I still looked perfectly presentable.
“Good morning Lyra,” I said as I opened the door. My friend was standing, dressed in her Anthro Con outfit, wearing a mint green vest over a white shirt, and I am sorry if I am going into too much detail describing her atire, but human clothing is fascinating. It almost makes me wish that they were real. Almost. Not really though.
“Hey,” she said, grinning madly, “Why aren’t you in your costume yet? You said we would dress up together.”
I nodded at her, “I did say that, but if you would recall, I haven’t had time to assemble it. I promise I will be walking like a human on Saturday.”
“Alright,” she said as she walked into our room, “Oh hey, are you alright? You look off.” She leaned in close to give me a closer inspection. “Yep, its definitely the eyes. Your pupils are the size of pinpricks, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say you were sporting a wicked pair of crazy eyes right now.” Crazy eyes? Is that even a thing? No, it can’t be, just a common misconception, and besides, my eyes were are perfectly fine.
“That’s it,” Vinyl said as she rolled out of bed, “Couldn’t quite put my hoof on what was wrong, but it’s definitely the crazy eyes.”
My left eye twitched erratically and I shouted, “I am not crazy! You know, it’s beginning to get a bit hurtful that my closest and dearest friends keep insinuating that I’ve lost my mind, and I would certainly expect better from you Lyra. You of all ponies should be a bit more tolerant of another pony’s peculiarities. Or are we just supposed to walk eggshells when it comes to your human obsession even though it’s apparently acceptable to declare open season whenever I do something the least bit eccentric. And Vinyl…”
I stopped as I saw the look of concern and pain on their faces. Apparently my little outburst was just feeding their fears that I had somehow snapped. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself. I had to be perfect, absolutely perfect, otherwise…
A scene from my previous nightmare re-emerged, Vinyl was turning her back on me to walk off with Homage while I was desperately asking why.
“Because,” this version of Vinyl said, “I don’t have time for a madmare.” With that the two of them walked off and I was suddenly thrust back into reality.
“I’m not a madmare!” I responded, earning more confused glances from my friends.
“Tavi,” Vinyl said, “You know you don’t have to go out today, Lyra and I will totally be fine if you just stay in the hotel room and rest.” And leave you all alone so Homage could seduce you? I couldn’t let that happen.
“Well we did come all the way out here for this and you really shoul-” Lyra was cut off as Vinyl jabbed an elbow into her side. Surprisingly, she didn’t sway that much considering she was walking around on two legs. “I mean, yes, you should totally do whatever you feel like.”
“I’m fine,” I said, flashing a reassuring smile. “And Lyra, I’m sorry for my earlier outburst, there is nothing wrong with your interest in anthropology.” I had to be perfect, I reminded myself, I had to excel in every way imaginable, to leave absolutely no doubt in Vinyl’s mind that I was the superior mare, otherwise she might… No, that option is unthinkable.
“Tavi, you are kind of acting odd, I really think you should just lay down and relax. I don’t want you to-”
“No,” I said, cutting my marefriend off, “I understand my behavior is slightly off, but that is only because I didn’t sleep well last night. As soon as I get a cup of coffee in my system, I will be fine.”
“Alright then,” she said, although I could still see the doubt in her eyes. “If you want you can tag along with me today. I know we said we would go off and do our own thing, but-”
I laughed and kissed Vinyl, “I’ll be fine dear, I appreciate the concern, but I think I can handle myself on my own for a few hours.’
“If you’re sure,” Vinyl said, “Just… You know I’ve kind of been worrying about you since…”
I smiled and waved a hoof, “I know Vinyl, now go have fun at Anthro-Con. I will be along shortly.”
“Just… if you need anything, I will be stopping at the game room every hour on the hour,” Vinyl said before turning to leave the hotel room with Lyra.”
As soon as they had left I moved to the mirror to make sure every last hair in my mane was in its proper place and give a closer examination to what the others had referred to as “crazy eyes.” While the pupils were slightly smaller than average, I didn’t note anything terribly insane about them. Probably just one of Lyra’s fanciful notions, or maybe… My eye twitched. Maybe Homage had planted the idea in their heads in an attempt to discredit me. I’d have to keep an eye on her to prevent her from spreading any more rumors about my mental well being, and that would require a costume.
I headed to the convention, and after one disastrous attempt at finding the vendor hall that culminated in me getting trapped in a broom closet for an hour, until one of the custodians came in to clean-up after a mare at one of the panels had a particularly awful case of stage fright. I thanked him profusely and he pointed me towards the the vendors.
Most of the vendors were selling various bits of homemade merchandise, shirts, and exorbitantly priced plushies. In the back of the room, a bright blue banner reading “Costumes by Rarity” caught my eye. I happily trotted towards the banner, eager to see one of my saner friends. Unfortunately, as I got closer, I found that the mare running the booth wasn’t my friend, but was instead a mare with a cream colored coat and light blue mane.
“Hello,” she said as I walked closer, “Can I help you?”
“You will have to excuse my shock,” I said as I surveyed her wares, “I didn’t know Equestria had two fashion designers named Rarity, although I suppose it’s not impossible. A pleasure to meet you Miss Rarity.”
“Oh no, I’m not Rarity, I just manage the east coast branch of Boutique Inc, although at the moment, that just means I run a store in Manehattan and show up at some conventions. Does the Rarity you know live in Ponyville?”
I nodded.
“Then we have a Rarity in common, now how can I help you today?”
“Do you have any costumes that resemble this?” I pulled Lyra’s sketch out of my saddlebags and gave it to her.
“Oh yes,” she said as she reached a hoof under the table and pulled out some shirts and pants, “Your design is wonderful, do you and Rarity ever collaborate together?”
I shook my head, “No, in fact, it’s not even my design, a friend came up with it, and I promised them I would dress up with them tomorrow. Frankly, I’m not sure why a serial about humans is so popular.”
Her eyes went wide and there was a sharp intake of breath, apparently that was the exact wrong thing to say. “Well, I can’t speak for everypony else, but the outfit design on the show is absolutely wonderful. That was what first got me into the serial, and then I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was actually good. The characters are well rounded, the plots are interesting, and…”
I stopped listening as I worked to put together the second costume I needed. I eventually settled on a mask and robe that would be more than capable of obscuring my identity. “Could I purchase these as well?” I asked as I pulled my coin purse out of my saddlebags and tossed it on the counter.
“Uhmm… yeah, sure,” she said as she counted out my bits, “Why do you need two costumes?”
“Obviously, I would need a back-up in case something unfortunate happened to this one. I promise I have nothing duplicitous planned.”
“Okay,” she said as she passed the clothes towards me, “I wasn’t saying you did, I was just curious.”
My mind filled with curses as I chastised myself for reacting so defensively. If I had just stopped speaking after the first sentence, everything would have been fine. Now, Not-Rarity was staring at me warily, and what I had dubbed my “everything is perfectly fine” smile sprang onto my face.
“I’m sorry, that was just a little joke on my part. Anyways, I will be sure to tell Rarity I ran into you when I see her next, Miss…”
“Pommel,” she said, “And don’t worry, I know what it feels like to have a joke go everypony’s head. Have a nice day, and please consider Carousel Boutique for all your clothing needs.”
As I walked away from the booth, a small giggle escaped my lips, “So, you think you can turn my friends against me Miss Homage? Well we’ll just see about that.” After stuffing the other outfit in my bag, I donned the mask and cape and went out to stalk the convention floor.
Several hours later, I sat in the Pens and Futons room, a room apparently named after a short one off gag in the serial and… Why does it sound so much like Ponyville’s Quills and Sofas? My first thought was that it was a simple reference, but Quills and Sofas isn’t a chain store, and Ponyville is far too obscure for that to be plausible. Next, I considered the possibility that it was mere coincidence, but the idea that there can be two stores in two worlds that sell two completely unrelated items strikes me as far more implausible than what I am begrudgingly coming to accept as the truth, that Equestria is itself a fictional world created by humans and that…
“Hey Tavi!”
I look up from my journal to see the pink mare of madness staring at me, before going back to my writing.
“My tail and left hoof started twitching simultaneously while my knees wobbled, which means that somepony is coming dangerously close to breaking the fourth wall. Just thought I would let you know that while leaning on the fourth wall is absolutely hilarious, the audience doesn’t like it when we directly break it.”
“Pinkie, I don’t have time for your insane ramblings right now, I am journaling.”
“Ooh! That must be how you are breaking it. See, we Pies have always had kind of a knack for self-aware commentary, I call it the Pinkie gene, and since you are related to us, then there is a chance that you have it as well. I bet being in Ponyville and writing so much is causing it to express yourself.”
I look back up at her, as my eye twitches, “I’m… your just a figment of my imagination as well, but then if that’s the case that would mean a part of my mind is capable of imitating you perfectly, which would mean that…”
I shake my head. “I’m not crazy. No, this is a trick being played by the part of my mind that is desperately trying to convince me that I am crazy for its own nefarious purposes. Probably conspiring with Homage, which reminds me…”
Several hours of fruitless searching later, I sat in Pens and Futons, first noting the similarities between its name and Ponyville’s Quills and Sofas. Homage was either very good at hiding in a crowd, or she was one of those ponies who preferred not to be up before noon.
“Hey, are you just going to keep ignoring me?” Pinkie says from her mirror, “I am trying to tell you something important.” I ignore her and go back to writing. “Fine, ignore me then. Maybe I won’t tell you about how to properly interact with the fourth wall.” Why in Equestria is some deranged part of my mind talking about the fourth wall? Every wall in my room seems perfectly fine.More questions to ponder later, I suppose.
Back at Pens and Futons, I listened to the most obnoxious bunch of mare-children discuss just how exactly nuclear fission (apparently some sort of human analogue to magic) worked and pondered just how I would track down Homage and stop her plotting.
“Hello there,” a dark green stallion said as he sat next to me, “Do you write too?”
I nodded my head and went back to scanning the room. Perhaps Homage would just show up and I could start properly stalking her.
“Cool… cool, cool, cool. Yeah, I just got the latest update to my story published before I came here, I decided to get a little meta by sending Sarah to Bronycon and seeing just what would happen.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, turning my attention to the stallion, “Do you write for the show? Because if so, I have a friend who would love to meet you.”
He laughed and shook his head, “Oh no, I just write fanfics.”
“Fanfics?” I asked as I continued to scan the room.
“Yeah, they are stories set in the Anthro-verse written by fans. The really good ones get published in fan magazines.”
“Which I assume are magazines that target the older fans of the show?”
The jade stallion gave a quick nod, “Yes, my story updates are published by FiSFiction, and I am hoping America Weekly picks it up soon.”
Just when I was about to get up and leave the crazy pony to his ramblings, Homage walked through the door and took a seat with a group of mares and stallions in the back corner of the room. The good news was that I had found my query, the bad news was that in order to keep an eye on her and not raise suspicion, I would have to continue this conversation.
“So, just to make sure I understand this, you make a living writing stories set in the same ‘verse,’ whatever that means, of the show that aren’t sanctioned by the serial’s creators.”
“Yes… well, no, I don’t make a living off of it, if I did, then the creators could sue. No, it’s just work created by fans for fans.”
“Then…” Remember Octavia, you don’t want to make a scene, “Is your story well received?”
“Oh yes,” he said, nodding, “I’ve gotten dozens of letters from readers who say how funny my story is. It’s a really nice comedy/romance, focusing on two background humans, that I forced to live together due to circumstances. My protagonist is like… a really snobby upper class chick.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, no longer paying attention as Vinyl Scratch walked into the room and headed towards Homage’s group of ponies, “That sounds fascinating.” What the hay? I didn’t expect Vinyl to start conspiring with the enemy.
The group started to talk, and almost immediately Vinyl and Homage were at odds with each other, and I struggled to overhear anything about their conversation.
“Yeah, with this latest update, my story will break 150,000 words, I really hope the readers will…” I shushed him as I tried to overhear anything about the conversation my marefriend and his arch-enemy were having.
Vinyl was gesticulating wildly and pointed a hoof at Homage. Homage was likewise pointing and yelling, and I could make out a few snippets of dialog on her end. The word “psycho” was used with alarming frequency. My roommate responded with more yelling on her part, and I could clearly make out the words “love” and “idiot.”
My heart pounded in my chest. Obviously, the two were fighting, and Homage was accusing me of being a psychopath, and Vinyl was… was she agreeing with Homage? Perhaps declaring her undying love for Homage and calling me an idiot for thinking otherwise? No, that was grossly improbable. Vinyl wouldn’t betray me so easily, would she? Of course not, I told myself. Yes, she did in my dream, but that doesn’t mean anything. Even if I had several dreams where Vinyl and I were in a relationship in the days leading up to our… No, dreams don’t mean anything. Nothing at all.
On the other hoof, I thought, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if I treated the dream as a warning and worked harder to make sure that its terrible vision never came to pass. That wasn’t insane or paranoid was it? No, I said, reassuring myself, I was just exercising a healthy amount of caution. Nothing wrong with that. And to start with, it would be wise if I figured out a way to make sure Homage and Vinyl never interacted with each other again. My mind conjured a list of ideas, which ranged from covering Homage in petrol and lighting her on fire to framing her for a crime to the comparatively tamer getting Homage kicked out of Anthro Con. After a brief debate, I decided that it would be best to pursue less drastic measures. For now.
“And that’s why I’m really worried about how readers will react to this latest chapter when my main character loses her mind.”
I nodded my head, “I’m sure your readers will love it when you break the mind of a character from a show for colt’s,” I said, nodding my head. “After all, they supported you as you wasted every moment of your free time during the past year writing a silly story about humans. If anypony can approve of your terrible life choices it will be your readers.” Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as I heard the sound of the pony next to me sobbing. I was about to comfort him and convince him that he wasn’t wasting his life, but Homage was heading out of the room and I couldn’t let her out of my sight. Without saying a word, I got up and moved to stalk my query, careful not to stay too close to her.
Apparently, stalking somepony is spectacularly boring. At least, stalking somepony in Anthro Con is spectacularly boring. All Homage did was walk around, sit in a variety of panels, and take pictures of ponies in costumes (cosplays, whatever). If I didn’t know that she was actively plotting my destruction, I might have thought a normal pony. Thankfully, I knew the truth, and I would not let her deceive me as she plotted to steal Vinyl.
Now Octavia, I told myself as I continued to follow Homage around the convention, she can’t steal Vinyl, Vinyl is her own person and makes her own decisions. The only way Homage could “steal” Vinyl was if Vinyl went along with it. Of course, she could still work to discredit me, drive a wedge between Vinyl and I, and then console my grieving marefriend in her time of need. I muttered something under my breath as I entered into the fourth hour of Homage watching. This hour, she planned on ordering a churro and talking with some friends. I found an empty seat a few tables away, and sat down, cursing my mask for making it impossible for me to eat with it on.
One of Homage’s friends pointed at me and the blue mare trotted over towards my table. “Hey there,” she said cordially, “My friend was just wondering who exactly you were dressed up as. The mask is kind of cool, and I was thinking it was the Pony of the Opera, but that doesn’t really seem like a convention costume.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to think of some way to obscure my voice, “Mah boyfrien’ jus’ dragged me to this ‘ere ‘ootenanny, an’ when she mentioned that y’all liked to dress up, I thought use mah old N-” The words “Nightmare Night” caught in my throat and I cursed myself for not being able to mutter the words. Also, why did I choose such a ridiculous accent? “Old costume.”
I would like to apologize again to the Equestrian language that I had so thoroughly butchered.
“I see,” she said, “Well, is there any chance we could trouble you for a picture?”
Deciding not to do any more harm to the spoken word, I nodded my head in agreement, and Homage and her friends moved around me to pose for a group picture. Apparently, having your photo taken with one group of ponies serves as an invitation to have your photo taken with anypony who happened to have a camera, and soon enough, I was surrounded by ponies who had decided that my mask and cloak were somehow worthy of being photographed. Of course, by the time I managed to escape the crowd, Homage had managed to disappear.
“Curse that treacherous mare,” I mumbled as I finally managed to break free from the last of the photo seekers, “She probably planned this whole thing so she could sneak away. Also, why in Equestria am I talking to myself? It makes me sound like a mad mare or possibly the villain in one of those cheesy serials who seems…” I trailed off as I realized I was still talking to myself. Who seems like they always have to describe every last bit of their master plan once they have the hero bound and helpless. I found myself smiling at the chance to monologue once I had Homage bound and gagged before dropping her in the harbor. Also, why am I so eager to fantasize about killing another pony even though I am the only pony in Equestria who knows exactly how traumatic it is to have your spine ripped from your body? (The answer, for those that are curious, is more than you could possibly imagine.)
With my query having successfully faded into crowd, I decided I might as well look around Anthro-Con and see what the fuss was about. Ten thousand fully grown mares can’t be… well, they can be and most certainly are wrong, but perhaps they aren’t completely wrong. At the very least, touring the convention might help me take my mind off of things and have a laugh at the expense of ponies who had less sanity than myself.
After several more hours of walking around the convention center and laughing at ponies more poorly dressed than myself, the sun began to set, and a large number of ponies started heading towards the second floor of the convention center. Having nothing better to do, I decided to follow them. They led me to a massive room that was quickly filling with ponies and a massive stage packed with speakers at the front of the room. “I take it this is Anthropalooza,” I said to nopony in particular before chastising myself for continuing to think out loud.
Having stored my mask in my saddlebags, I reveled in the feeling of (mostly) fresh air on my face and the ability to see with unobstructed vision. Next time I have to go spying on ponies, I think I will leave the mask at home and instead find some other way of obscuring my identity. Would a pair of glasses be too obvious? Probably. At the very least, I thought as I took a seat towards the back of the room, I should be able to see Vinyl perform without almost getting crushed to death, so that was a small positive. Unfortunately there was also a better than likely chance that I would be seeing Homage on stage as well.
I will try to hurry things up as somepony as Vinyl is currently pounding on the door and yelling at me to open up and I would like to finish this entry before my hastily constructed barricade gives way. Which I suppose brings us back to just what happened at Anthropalooza.
The first two hours of the event were pleasant enough, I suppose. Well, not particularly, the music was unbearably loud, the overuse of synthesizers made my ears start to bleed, the performers were dressed in outfits that would have made Rarity’s most excessive travesties seem subdued, and the names of the performers were outlandish at best (How anything in a graveyard could be considered alive boggles the mind). But on the other hoof, I wasn’t nearly crushed to death, so I suppose that made it tolerably decent. Finally, Vinyl took the stage, and for a few minutes, things were wonderful.
Her booth was on the left side of the stage and the goggles that usually hung around her neck now covered her eyes. The music she played was both overwhelmingly loud and significantly more tolerable than the music that had been played previously, perhaps that is just my bias, but the crowd did seem much more enthused when she was playing compared to some of the other bands, and as far as synthetic-electro-whatever music, hers was by far the best I had heard.
After she had finished her first song, the lights focused on the center of the stage as the master of ceremonies grabbed a microphone, “Alright everypony, we have an unexpected Anthropalooza treat for you all tonight. Because tonight the position of Anthropalooza DJ is being challenged by the one and only MC-H0MI3, so let’s give it up as we have an epic battle of the wubs.”
First of all, I would like to say that the word “wubs” sounds completely idiotic. Second, why does Anthropalooza need an official DJ? Finally, why would Homage choose such an uninspired stage name? Granted, the name DJ-P0N3 might not be a stunning work of creativity, but MC-H0MI3 just sounds like a ripoff of DJ-P0N3.
The crowd cheered at the MC’s announcement as the stage lights focused on my marefriend and my archenemy as the first blast of “wubs” shook the room. My neck snapped up as my vision unfocused. This was it, I thought, as the very foundations of the convention center rocked, this was when Homage would make her move. Vinyl launched the opening salvo at her opponent, and Homage fired back, taking the original song and tweaking it, making it more bombastic and adding to the length of the piece. The two of them took turns altering and adding to the original composition, each one adding to and improving it. Everypony in the audience danced ecstatically as the two of them continued to create music together. A voice in the back of my head whispered that they were one of Equestria’s most beloved creator couples.
No, I had to stop them. Had to stop her from stealing Vinyl away. Without consciously ordering them to, my hooves propelled me towards the stage as I pushed ponies out of my path. I leapt on to the stage and my hoof flew towards Homage’s face. She looked up at me just in time for me to knock her out.
“Ha!” I shouted, gloating over her unconscious form, “Did you really think you could come between Vinyl and I so easily? Did you? You have no idea what I’ve done… What I was willing to go through for her. And you thought I’d just let you waltz in and take her away from me?”
Her eyes snapped open and she floated back to her hooves. Around me, the crowds of ponies murmured excitedly, and Vinyl was conferring with… somepony. My eyes were focused on the mare who just broke several laws of physics and magic. “Silly Octavia,” she said, “Did you really think you could hold on to a mare as lovely as Miss Scratch? Did you think she would see past the festering madness that lurks just under your surface.”
Homage sneered as she lifted a hoof up and grabbed the flesh on her neck, peeling it back to reveal a mare with a grey coat and pink eyes staring back at me.
“Did you really think we could find some sort of happiness here, Tavi? That things would somehow get better for you? Your parents didn’t want you, you were shunned from Canterlot society, and everything you’ve ever done that didn’t involve playing a cello has ended in disaster. We are broken, not fit for the world of ponies, so let’s just go back to our tiny apartment in Canterlot and do the only thing we were ever really good at, play the cello.” Her/my expression softened, “I promise you will feel so much better once you put all these dreams of Vinyl Scratch behind you.”
“No, I… The only problem is you,” I said, trying to process the recent revelation, “I would have been fine if you didn’t try to plot against me.”
She laughed again, “Poor Octavia, you think I’m the problem? The entire universe is arrayed against the very notion of your… of our happiness.” She lovingly ran a forehoof down my neck, “Don’t you remember how much better things were before we came to Ponyville? The way we were free to spend our days practicing the cello and our nights playing for Equestria’s most prestigious orchestra? Are these little friendships worth all the tribulations they bring? I just want us to be happy.”
“Hey Tavi,” Vinyl said, turning our attentions towards her, “I really think you need to come with me to-”
“No!” I half shouted, half snarled, “I can’t see you join the conspiracy, I’ve waged war against the entire world for you. Gone through… No, I can’t.”
Before she could reveal her duplicity and how she was conspiring with me against me, I sprinted off the stage and ran back towards my room in the hotel, ignoring the groups of ponies that tried to stop me on my way there. I slammed the door shut after I ran into my room and pressed the bed against the door, Vinyl would be along shortly to end things, that she couldn’t deal with a mare that was so troubled, and I would do anything to delay that terrible moment. I turned my attention towards my journal and did my best to ignore her knocking and Pinkie Pie’s chattering while I journaled the day’s events.
As I write this, the door shatters open, and Vinyl marches through, her eyes filled with tears. Her horn glows softly as she approaches, “I’m… I’m really sorry Tavi, I hope… I hope you can forgive me for this.
I sigh as the urge to fight leaves my body. What can I do to stop the inevitable? Perhaps things will be better if I listen to the other Octavia and go back to Canterlot. Vinyl wraps her forelegs around me and I wrap my left foreleg around her, leaving my right to journal this last tender moment with her. Her horn presses against my neck and the magical energy she has been storing fills my body. Almost immediately, my mind slows and the world fills with white. Maybe things won’t be so bad.
Vinyl’s Note: So apparently, you continued writing while I applied the anesthesia spell. That’s… you know, I’m not even really surprised at this point. But uhmm… yeah, hope you don’t mind me writing in your journal.