//------------------------------// // Coda // Story: Mezza Voce // by Ciroton //------------------------------// Of all the things to surprise her over the last few days, Octavia found the fact that Vinyl Scratch’s friends were somewhat normal ponies topping her list. She had assumed that they were all hooligans at first, and while she had yet to be completely disproved, most of them seemed… palatable. At least in small doses, like the current venue she shared with them. Berry Punch had resumed drinking at her end of the table, a mob of empty bottles of whiskey starting to congregate around their drunken consumer. But Octavia was hard-pressed to say anything bad about her; Celestia knows she’d probably drink just as heavily if she dealt with what the lavender mare had. Beside the souse sat a blue unicorn known as Colgate Minuette, who tapped an empty glass of brandy with her hoof to create a clinking noise out of boredom. Outside of her chosen profession, which caused the cellist to shudder just thinking about, she found her rather much like Vinyl. She had yet to determine how bad that was. “I know it’s not true, but I liked the story with the ninjas the best,” came a small voice from above the din. Looking to her side, Octavia saw that her friend Beauty Brass had a half-finished glass of water close at hoof. “I mean… no offence to the others, but at least it was more exciting than a DJ contest or winning a bet.” The cellist noticed a bit of a blush on her friend’s cheeks as she took another sip. Perhaps it was not water after all. “It’s a typical Drunk Vinyl story,” Blind Charge said with an added shrug. “They usually start out plausible before descending into some kind of madness. Why, I remember one story she told where she went to the bank, and by the end it turned into a tale about how she saved the world from Discord using what she called a ‘Bass Cannon’!” He laughed. Meanwhile, an uncomfortable churning gurgled in the pit of Octavia’s stomach when the term ‘Bass Cannon’ reared its ugly head. While the others shared a laugh, visions of court summons and pleas for bail money danced in her head. “I’ll admit, that’s a real humdinger there, Charger,” Colgate spoke. “However, I don’t think it tops this ONE Drunk Vinyl story. It started off with her playing a videogame that somehow killed the world, made her a goddess and then she had to fight a giant space snake before she recreated the world and shed her immortality. I plop you not.” There was a pause of shock and awe before everypony but the cellist started to laugh even louder, Berry going so far as to double over and pound the table with tears welling up in her eyes. “Okay, okay, you win!” she said with an undeniable slur in her voice. Octavia, however, was just confused by the reminiscing. “It’s a very long story though; it’d take a whole night to tell, and since we’re doing the sunglasses stuff, it’ll have to wait,” the den---oral health practitioner said. “Speaking of, Wrench sure is taking her sweet time getting that refill,” the stallion of the group spoke. “Well, excuse me for needing to visit the Mare’s Room to powder my muzzle, you impatient lug,” Quick Fix said before shimmying past him into the booth. “Yeah, but you were gone for, like, ten minutes! It should only take, like two or three tops to use the bathroom and get a refill.” “You cannot rush a lady, Charger,” she replied with a snap of her tail to his muzzle.   “If yer a lay-dy, I’m a vermishus knid!” Berry slurred with an added giggle. “Um… Pardon?” Octavia asked, not quite sure what she was trying to say. “Inside joke, Octavia. Just leave it,” Colgate answered. The cellist knew better than to pursue, so she left it at that. In the meantime, an argument had flared up between the tan unicorn and the brown pegasus on proper etiquette while using the facilities. If the circumstances were not so dire, Octavia may have just paid her dues and left right then. But sadly, she was there for a reason that was not quite satisfied. Seeing the argument become more heated as the moments passed, Octavia cleared her throat loudly to cut through the din. “Excuse me,” she said when she captured their attention. “But I believe you were just about to tell me the true story of how Vinyl Scratch came into possession of those tacky sunglasses.” “Oh. Uh… Sorry,” Quick Fix replied with a blush developing on her tan cheeks. “I got a little carried away there. Stallions and the bathroom, you know?” “I am quite aware,” the grey mare in the pink bow tie replied before taking a sip of her coffee. “Can we please get this over with? It’s starting to get close to dinner now, and I’d rather settle this matter sooner rather than later.” “Ah, right, sorry,” Quick Fix apologized. “Do you want me to start from how I met Vinyl?” “If you would, please.” “All right,” she said before taking a sip of her new glass of sarsaparilla. “I actually met Vinyl back in highschool on the first day, during orientation if I’ve got it right. She and Lye decided to sit beside me in the auditorium, but we didn’t become friends for a little while, like with Charger, but not because of awkwardness. We just didn’t have any of the same classes and… well… I was a bit of a nerd and… eh, let’s just say Vinyl’s actually toned down on the insanity with age.” “Wait, so… are you saying she was actually worse than she is right now!?” Octavia balked. Quick Fix nodded her head and smiled. “Yeah, but it wasn’t all bad. I mean, I was a nerd, right? I was a prime target for bullies. In fact, we became friends because she saw what was going on and didn’t take kindly to- Lye!” Suddenly, all heads turned towards the door after the outburst. So at last, the final hooligan arrives. I wonder what this one did to earn her- but Octavia’s thought stopped dead in its tracks when she turned to see the pony who had arrived. She was a unicorn mare with a mint green coat and two-tone mane of white and bluish sort of green. But what really struck Octavia was her amber eyes and the lyre cutie mark on her flank. As soon as their eyes met, the unicorn shared a similar expression of shock, though Octavia could not see her own face. “YOU!” both mares said simultaneously as the shock wore off and deep scowls replaced their looks of surprise. “What in Tartarus are you doing here!?” Octavia shouted as she stepped out of the booth to face the green mare. “I live here, you boorish snob. What’s got you down from your lofty perch in Canterlot?” the mare replied with equal fire. “You live in a bar? Somehow that seems rather fitting. Your playing has always sounded like you were a little sauced.” “I mean I live here in Ponyville now, you twit.” “Stop it!” Beauty Brass, of all ponies, shouted. “Before you offend all of the patrons by saying something demeaning about this town, just stop.” The bar went quiet from the argument, all eyes upon the seven ponies in the corner. Octavia, to her credit, simply huffed and sat down in the booth again rather than give the minty mare a much-earned piece of her mind. After all, she was the better mare, in more ways than one. “Wait… You know Lyra already, Octavia?” Colgate asked with a slightly stunned expression upon her face. “Yes,” the cellist said coldly. “Lyra Heartstrings and I are rivals, to put it nicely.” “I’d like to point out that it’s you who causes the problems, Octavia,” the green mare parried while sidling in past her to sit between Berry and Beauty. “It’s your attitude that rubs me the wrong way, since you act oh so high and mighty because you’re nobility and we all must PRAISE you like peasants.” “I have never said that in all my life!” she retorted, throwing her hooves onto the table and standing up to stare her down. “Clean the wax out of your ears. I never said that, I said that’s what your attitude implies, and your reaction is prime evidence,” Lyra smirked. Octavia fumed and slowly sat back down, grabbing her cup with her hooves and taking a generous sip of coffee. If there was one pony more annoying to her in all Equestria than Vinyl Scratch, it was Lyra Heartstrings. A dark recess of her mind quipped that it was fitting they would be friends, if only just to get her proverbial goat. “Not that it’s my business, but it sounds like there is a lot of bad blood between you two,” Blind Charge said. No pony elected to respond for a while. “Well… Octavia does have a snide streak a mile wide, no offence, and Ms Heartstrings has a tendency to get heated easily, so yes.” Beauty Brass said quietly. What followed was another long stream of awkward silence as Octavia glared at Lyra, who was only too happy to oblige and reciprocate the gesture. “Octavia hasn’t been as bad as all that, Lyra, so chill, okay?” Colgate tried to mediate. Lyra looked at her friends and gave an exasperated huff. “For your sakes and for Vinyl’s sake, I’ll still my tongue. But only so long as Ms Melody here can keep civil and not talk down to my friends,” she said with a pointed look. “As Toothpaste said, she’s been fine. A far sight better than most Canterlot ponies anyway, no offence,” Blind Charge added. “So… uh… may I please continue?” Quick Fix said with studied calm, probably hoping not to reignite an argument. “By all means, please,” Octavia said, choosing to just flat-out ignore her irksome rival. “To reiterate, I was a bit of a nerd growing up, so in high school I got bullied, mostly by mares, for the usual stuff. One day, I was cornered by three of the worst offenders at Canterlot High when Vinyl decided to intervene. Now, to her credit, she told them to buzz off before kicking their flanks. After that, she started hanging out around with me at lunch and stuff. At first, it was just so ponies could see me with one of the cool mares, but we soon found a rapport and were genuine friends thereafter.” “I remember that quite vividly,” Lyra added. “It was the first time Vinyl really ever took a stand for anypony, actually. Before that she was quite content to just watch or do nothing. I was quite proud to be her friend after that.” “You’ve known Ms. Scratch longer than Ms Quick Fix?” Beauty Brass questioned. “Since we were yearlings, pretty much. Our parents were social with one another, so they’d use playdates as an excuse for them to share gossip,” she replied. “Okay, so when did she tell you about the sunglasses?” Octavia asked as if neither her chief adversary nor friend had spoken. “Second year at CHS,” Quick Fix replied. “It was the year before she acquired her taste for partying, creative lies, and underage drinking, so you can be sure she was sober when she told me this one and that it has to be true. Unlike all of her other stories… it’s a bit sad.” “How do you mean?” Both Octavia and Lyra said together. “Well, for starters… sompony kind of dies,” she responded before taking a drink of her sarsaparilla. “No nameless ninjas or ascended idols either. A legitimate death is involved in the story.” Suddenly, the air around them took a serious and calm turn. Even Lyra looked a little shocked out of the corner of Octavia’s eye. “Could you please begin?” the cellist asked. “Sure. I remember… It happened not too long after Vinyl got her cutie mark…” ~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~ It was a calm and quiet afternoon at Hanging Heights Park in Canterlot. The skies were blue and the wind gently caressed the fur of ponies who wandered and played among the trees and the grass of the sanctuary. Though it was built upon the side of a cliff, affording spectacular views of the Canter Valley all the way to the Everfree Forest, most ponies found the park a wonderful way to get some fresh air even if they were averse to heights. One such pony wandered off the beaten paths and away from the noisy and congested areas, preferring quiet and solitude over the sounds of foals squealing in delight on the playground. A sick feeling developed in the pit of the filly’s stomach as she realized she had missed her chance to be social in such a way. Now, she was expected to act more like a boring, snooty old adult! Why couldn’t she have fun!? The small pony gave the nearest tree a dirty look and, after checking to see that nopony would notice, gave it a swift buck… which earned her a sharp pain since she was not in the best of shape. She hobbled away, as tears threatened to well up in her eyes, to find a place to shake off the pain. If she had only known getting her cutie mark would involve so much responsibility thrown upon her, she would have slacked off and waited until she was older. Stupid ambition. But as much as she wanted to be mad at herself, it would do little to help her. As the old proverb said, she had made her hay stack, and now it was time to rest in it. “What am I going to do?” she asked herself as she lay upon the grass, hidden from the world. “Being responsible isn’t as fun as I thought.” From beyond the leaves and branches of the bush ahead, Vinyl Scratch could stick her muzzle through the thicket and see the playground populated by ponies… and not a single one of them sporting a cutie mark. She wanted to go out and play with them and damn the consequences… but mother always said that common ponies were more prone to illness and Vinyl did not want to get sick. Heck, lying down in the grass as she was had probably invited all manner of filth and disease upon her. If only she were not afraid of stares at her new cutie mark, she would push the concerns of her worry-wart dam aside and go join them. But she could not because they WOULD stare at the tied eighth notes now emblazoned in her coat and skin. Vinyl let a quiet sigh escape her and pulled her face away. Coming here had been a mistake, she realized. If the cutie mark did not ostracize her immediately, than her awkwardness would surely push them away. And if that did not happen, then their parents would be intimidated by her status. “I guess I’d better get to practice,” she sighed again while picking herself up. However, before she could take more than a step back home, she heard a strange noise coming from somewhere behind her as an unexplained wind picked up. Although she did not know it at the time, the sound was very much like a key being scraped along a length of piano wire. But sound was from from her mind, as she focused on what she was seeing. A blinking light had appeared next to a tree and with every pulse of the blinking light, a shape became clearer. Vinyl rubbed her magenta eyes in disbelief at what she was seeing as the sound subsided and the light stopped blinking. The object was as tall as Princess Celestia and as blue as the darkest ocean depths. Along each side of the box, she could see the words ‘Public Police Call Box’ painted in black upon a white background. She stood still for several moments, waiting for the box to make the first move, but her little mind kept thinking, What in Tartarus is THIS!? Her question would soon be answered as the door to the box opened with a click and out stepped a pony. Vinyl was instantly blown away by their appearance, but not in the bad way expected of a pony of her status. The mare who stepped out had a mane of two-tone purple swept back into a mohawk and a coat almost as white as the filly’s. A kind smile was upon her face as amber eyes seemed to glisten in the light of the sun. Vinyl was in awe. “Greetings, little Vinyl!” she beamed. “You don’t know me yet, but I’m The Doctor. But for now, you can call me Alto Harmony. Or DJ Flare. I have a few aliases in this body!” Vinyl stood with her mouth agape, still trying to process this mare’s appearance. Never mind her strange disposit- “Wait,” she said, interrupting her own train of thought. “DJ Flare as in… as in the crazy pony on the news that mom told me is a bad influence?” Her smile only broadened. “One and the same, kiddo! I don’t bite though, hell, I LOVE foals! I’ve even been a mother a few times. But uh… that’s neither here nor there. I’m here ‘cause I wanted to introduce you to someone, little Vinyl Scratch.” The filly’s eyes widened in shock. “H-how do you know my name!?” she stuttered. “I’m going to let my friend answer that,” the mohawk pony said before stepping aside. In the doorway of the box was another adult mare with a white coat. But this one had a mane of two-tone blue done up like a hedgehog in a windstorm had perched upon her head. She had a grin that, frankly, creeped the little pony out. But the most striking feature about her was a pair of purple sunglasses covering her eyes. “Hey, no need to be afraid, filly,” the mare spoke with the grin fading in an instant. There was silence as Vinyl backed up, having watched commercials on tv about this situation before. “I know we’re strangers, and ma said to never talk to them, but please,” she said, pulling off the shades to reveal a striking pair of magenta eyes. “Hear me out for, like, ten seconds. Okay, Vee?” Vinyl paused in her retreat and looked at the strange adult curiously. “Only mother and father call me that. How did… how did you know?” The strange mare smiled and lowered her head in close, lifting her hair to show a scar that ran above her eye. “I got this when I was your age, filly. I was playing hide and seek with my friend and hid under the piano in the den. Lyra snuck up on me and scared me, so I bashed my head on the corner. Hurt like hell for weeks afterward.” “So… wait… Lyra?” the filly spoke, with her eyes slowly widening. “Are… are you saying that you’re… me!?” “I told ya I was a sharp cookie, Doc,” the older Vinyl beamed as she looked at Alto. The strange pony nodded her head and smiled. “Yes, I can certainly see the resemblance… but we really should do what is needed and go. Interacting with your own timeline for too long is never a good thing, Vee.” “Oh. Right, right,” the older Vinyl said while nodding her head in agreement. “Listen, little me. We came back in time because I wanted to give you these.” She floated the sunglasses down in front of her filly self. “Why are you giving me a pair of cheap sunglasses?” Vinyl inquired, earning a snicker and chortle from the doctor pony. “Hahahaha~! Even you think they’re cheap!” Alto Harmony said in between fits of laughter. The older Vinyl Scratch grumbled and shot her companion a dirty look before turning her attention back to the filly. “Yeah, okay. So maybe they look a little cheap. So what? The point is, there shades are important, Little Vee.” “How are they important? It looks just like plastic to me,” she replied, earning another round of mirth from the madmare. Her doppelganger applied a hoof to her forehead and groaned while mumbling something that sounded vaguely like ‘foals theses days’ to the little filly’s ears. “Okay, fine!” she grumbled. “They might be cheap and plastic, but the point is, they’re charmed to help you see the way to your destiny as the best DJ in the whole Celestia-damned world!” The younger Scratch looked at the tacky shades hovering in front of her for a moment. “Why would I want to be a disk jockey,” she said with some revulsion. “Mom says they smell and are criminals.” There was more laughter as a blush developed upon the older version’s cheeks. It took a moment for the blush to subside, but when it did, she smiled genuinely at the filly. “You choose to become a DJ because it helps you make friends. Honest, loving friends outside of just Lyra Heartstrings.” She looked up at the pony sporting the mohawk. “Friends can make all the difference in your life. Vinyl looked over the sunglasses with a bit more of a keen eye and took them into her own magical grasp to examine them for any curses or hexes, but found nothing amiss with them. “So… these sunglasses will… they’ll help me make friends?” she asked, looking up at the two adult ponies with hope and only a little trepidation. “Mhm,” they both said while nodding their heads in confirmation. If she were a little older, she would have been too cautious to do so, but the filly took the sunglasses and placed them upon her face, tinting the world a shade of magenta. But with this new color was something else… almost like a glowing, sparkly path that was guiding her to something… something back home. “Well, I think our job here is done,” Alto Harmony said with a smile. “You’d better run along home, little…” but she was cut off by a rustle in a bush and a mechanical whirl, causing her eyes to widen. “Get down, hide and don’t make a BUCKING noise!” she hissed in a whisper. “Hu-” she started, but was cut off by the older version of herself covering her mouth and moving her into a bush. She wanted to run away from whatever it was, but, for some reason, she trusted this pony claiming to be her and did as she was told without a fuss. “What are you doing here, scum?” the stranger pony said, pulling out a weird metal device from her mane with her red magic. In front of the two older ponies was what seemed like a brass canister on wheels with a plunger, eggbeater and some kind of microphone sticking out of it. It was almost as tall as the blue box, but the only thing blue on it was on the microphone sticking out of it. “I have cornered you, Doctor. Prepare to be EX-TERM-INATED!” the foul device spoke with an ear-splitting staccato that made the filly cover her ears in fright. Yet, she could see the strange pony remain unflinching in front of her, even if the so-called future Vinyl looked ready to run into the box. “Oh please,” she said, tail whipping to the side once as they stood with their backs to the little filly protectively. “Literally thousands of you have tried to kill me in the past. What makes you think you can do it?” “Because I have nothing to lose!” The tin can shouted with blinking lights. The whirling sound became louder and the blue glowing microphone turned red. “Detonation sequence activated. Goodbye, Doctor!” “VINYL!” The stranger shouted, shoving the other pony out of the way and towards the blue box right before the strange brass can exploded into a thousand bits. The filly squealed in fright and shrunk into as tight a ball as she could muster as the percussion of the blast thumped into her tiny chest like a hammer. When the dust cleared, the filly poked her head out from the bush to see the older Vinyl rushing over to the other mare, who lay upon the ground, bleeding heavily. “Alto! Doctor!” she cried as she rolled her over, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “Say something, please!?” “S-stand back,” she said weakly as something that looked like golden magic seeped from her wounds. The older mare did so, and just in time as golden light rocketed out of her eyes, mouth, nose and other possible points of escape like many jets of water. If it were not for the sunglasses, the filly would not have been able to see the spectacle for blinding light. With a final flash of light, the mare upon the ground was replaced… by a stallion. “Ugh, that always feels weird,” he said as he stood up and shook out his mane. He was a brown stallion with a short and spiky mane and tail with eyes as blue as oceans. “Let’s see what we have to work with,” he said as he started to feel himself. “Great. Still not a ginger… and I’m a stallion again, so that might make things a bit awkward. Ha-ha. Tail? Short. Hearts? Two… I don’t like the shape of my stomach though,” he said as he looked between his legs at it. “Ah! Hello, little Vinyl!” “YEEK!” she squealed and jumped out from the bush. That was far too much weirdness for her; she needed to get home where things made sense. Even as the so-called older version of her told her to wait, she was not going to stick around for more. And so Vinyl Scratch ran and ran and ran some more until she was safely at home and curled up under her bed. ~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~ “Oh, come on!” Colgate shouted in indignation the moment the story had finished. “You said your story was ‘reasonable’! My PLOT it was reasonable!” Her forehooves were upon the table, standing in anger as she looked around at her friends. “Even Berry’s drunken ramble makes more sense, for the love of Celestia!” She shouted while gesturing at their inebriated friend. “Actually, it’s funny,” Blind Charge spoke, earning him looks from all present, and a piercing gaze from the real doctor in the room. “I-I mean to say that I’ve seen a pony like that before. The er, stallion I mean. He hangs out with Derpy all the time, too. I think he’s named Time Turner though. Town Chronographer and all.” “Um… What’s a ‘Chronographer?” Beauty Brass asked. Her bottle of liquid had long since drained and a very, very slight blush had developed on her cheeks. “It-” Octavia started, but found herself quite suddenly interrupted. “A Chronographer is in charge of keeping all the public clocks in a town or city running on time according to that city or town’s timezone,” Lyra said. “Oh. Sorry, Octavia.” She did not say a word to the minty unicorn. Instead, Octavia delivered a sharp and icy glare that communicated her offence quite eloquently. She feared that if she opened her mouth, she would start yet another argument at the table, since Colgate and Quick Fix were becoming quite heated. “If you will let me Celestia-damned finish!” the brown mare shouted suddenly, silencing her friend while simultaneously bringing more looks over to their table. “If you will let me finish,” she repeated with a little less volume. “Then I will tell you that it was not all that Vinyl said to me on the subject.” “What do you mean, Wrench?” the lone stallion said curiously. “Well, you all got lengthy little tales. I wanted my turn to tell a story, so I borrowed the one Vinyl told me when -I- said that it could not have been all!” “So you strung us along? Very endearing of you,” the grey mare said flatly with a level gaze in her eyes. “Perhaps next time you should cut to the chase before giving us a time-filling, and rather stupid, farce of a tale.” “Okay,” the brown pony conceded, taking a new glass of sarsaparilla to her lips. “In reality, Vinyl told me that she got them at the park and found them lying in the grass, behind the bushes, near the playground a few days after she got her cutie mark. I’m sorry for leading you all on like that, but you got to tell exciting stories and I didn’t want to be the boring one.” “Huh. Okay. Yeah, that’s probably the story then,” Blind Charge said after taking a sip from his glass. “I mean, it’s certainly the most credible one we have so far.” “It’s a shame that it’s wrong though,” Lyra and Octavia said simultaneously, causing them to look at each other. “Wrong? What do you mean?” Quick Fix asked as she looked between the two ponies. “Sorry, but if Vinyl Scratch found them on the ground, why are they important enough for her to buck me in the face over them?” All eyes turned to Lyra as she nearly choked on her drink, earning a hearty slap on the back from Berry Punch to help her clear her airways. “She… She assaulted you!? YOU, Octavia Melody!?” she said with abject horror. “Yes, I thought we discussed this before,” Octavia said while quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t told THAT! This… This changes everything,” the minty mare said as she looked around the table and then down to her drink. “Vinyl… you’d never know it, but she thinks the world of you, Octavia. Totally in a platonic sense, but… she really sees you as a friend and… well… she’d never EVER hurt her friends. She’d sooner die and… this is making too much sense!” “Whatchu talkin’ bout, mare?” Berry slurred as everypony at the table continued to stare. “I… I’ve known Vinyl all of my life. Tartarus, we’re practically sisters at this point! We know all of each other’s dirty secrets. She even figured out I was gay before I even knew it! If Vinyl had just yelled at you and gone off to drink her sorrows away, I would have just left it at this… but for her to hurt you… she’d never forgive herself.” Everypony else sat in silence as she talked, not daring to interrupt. Even Octavia was a little surprised that she was so distressed over something like this. She figured Vinyl and physical assault went hoof-in-hoof, given her disposition and rather… assertive nature. “So… I am to take it that you know the properly true story, Miss Heartstrings?” she asked. “Mhm,” Lyra nodded in confirmation. “I was there, for better or worse. All your stories took place after the fact. That’s plenty of time for her to come up with some bullplop. But… before I tell you about Vinyl’s past, I need to know what she told all of you. There’s probably something in common with them all, and I have a suspicion what, but I need to know for sure.” “I don’t think Grape is conscious enough to tell her story again, Lye,” Colgate said. She prodded the sauced mare with her hoof, earning a tittering of giggles and squeals before she lounged on the bench kicking. “I think I can recollect her version well enough,” Octavia spoke before taking a sip of what she promised to be her last coffee of the evening. “Yay! I liked the Ninja one the best! Come on, Octavia, do it some justice!” Beauty Brass cheered with her voice a little louder than normal. “Well, to make a long story short, since I doubt we all want to sit through the long version again, Vinyl was at a… what was it, National Music something or other?” “The Musical Arts Convention?” Blind Charge suggested with a little hesitation. “Yes, yes. That was it,” the Canterlot pony affirmed. “She was at the Musical Arts Convention in Manehatten to get her name as an ‘artist’ out there or something. Berry wasn’t clear on her motivations. At any rate, she got into line to get an autograph from some pony she admired. A fellow disk jockey called DJ Flame or something else as inane.” “DJ Flare.” Colgate said to correct her. “Yes. DJ Flare. She got to the head of the line and the pony there said she was impressed by a performance she did and that they should do lunch. As she stepped away, some pony emerged from the crowd saying he’d get revenge on her for doing unsavoury things to their idol or whatnot. They started fighting and Vinyl got involved in the fray and they fought the… ninjas… off together until the disk jockey revealed herself as an alicorn goddess, defeated them all and then disappeared, but not before giving Vinyl her sunglasses.” “Huh,” Lyra said with her eyes slightly widened and jaw slightly dropped. “Okay, that’s one of the more interesting ones I’ve heard. Not because it’s so outlandish, but because it’s mostly true.” “WHAT!?” Octavia shouted in a mixture of horror and wonderment. “I mean, Vinyl did go to the Musical Arts Convention one year and she did see some ponies she really wanted to, but there was no DJ Flare there. The ninjas, however, were really there.” “I… I’m sorry, I think you lost us, Lyra,” Quick Fix stammered. “Apparently, in the hall next to the MAC, there was some kind of ninjutsu convention. The temporary wall between the two broke down and they mingled a bit. Heck, Vinyl learned a few moves off a Neighponese ninja who was rather fluent in Equestrian Equish.” “That… is so awesome,” Beauty Brass breathed. “I like that version MUCH better!” A smile was instantly plastered on her face. Octavia, however, continued to stare at Lyra as if she had grown another head from her posterior. She was not alone either, as most of the ponies continued to stare at her a little bit as the weight of her words finally began to sink in. Now she was even more confused, even with the promise of the true story dangling in front of her muzzle. “Who had the next one?” Lyra asked. “Um… That was me,” Blind Charge said as he raised his hoof. “I don’t think it’s true in any way though, because, well, Vinyl’s not good with wagers.” He paused, waiting for a response from anypony else, maybe even somepony willing to tell his story for him, since he was swaying a little in his seat. “Er right… Well… Vinyl went to the Aerodrome in Canterlot a short while after getting her first steady gig on the club scene in mine. She was looking to waste a few bits on betting on the Pegasus races there and paid for a box seat since it was raining and she could afford it. Up there, she ran into a pony called… DJ Flare… and they placed a wager on the race where if she won, she would get Vinyl’s custom subwoofers and if Vinyl won, she’d get the sunglasses. Vinyl’s pony won after trailing or a bit. “After that, the other DJ said that she wanted to retire anyway and giving up her shades was an easy out, and that she was glad to see them go to Vinyl. She left the booth and was never seen again.” Having been privy to all of the stories before, the gears in Octavia’s mind began to spin and bring her brain up to a caffeine-aided sprint. All of the stories had a common thread connecting them, now that she noticed. Looking into Lyra’s eyes, she could see a similar burn of recognition, though she probably just wanted to hear all the other stories to be sure before committing. She could respect that. “Hrm,” the minty mare mused. “Vinyl can’t gamble, that’s for sure… but she sure can pick the winner of a race when she isn’t worried about winning or losing anything. I do recall going to see a race with her and the weather was pretty bad, so that’s about all that is true. “Since we’re going in order anyway, I’ll tell my story next!” Colgate chirped eagerly, waving her hoof back and forth like a little filly needing the mare’s room. “Okay, go for it, Toothpaste.” The mare smiled, letting her bright teeth shine before she dug into her story once more. “In my version, Vinyl got her sunglasses during a competition at the Canter Trot club where they were auditioning for the spot of in-house DJ, since the old one was arrested for possession! Vinyl was pretty nervous and couldn’t think up her setlist because DJ $tereo was being a twit. So she went up there and did her set and rocked the joint before she met up with DJ Flare at the bar. They got drunk together and went on stage to hear the winner and of course Vinyl won! And then they all fu-” “I think we get the picture, Miss Minuette,” Octavia interrupted before she could finish her tactless sentence. “Doctor Minuette. I didn’t spend six years in medical school and three years being an intern to be called ‘miss’. Thank you very much,” she snipped with a pointed glare. “My apologies, Doctor Colgate,” the grey cellist replied, earning another smile from the mare across the table. “You know, I’m still willing to take you on as a patient,” she said eagerly in a sing-song voice. Octavia speedily retreated from her, pressing her back into the stall’s cushion. “All right, I think I’ve got it, and no, I don’t need to hear yours again, Wrench,” Lyra spoke when there had been enough of an awkward silence. “As I suspected, it all came down to one thing. Vinyl is a good liar. It’s a skill we both picked up from our mothers, actually. It’s because she adds nuggets of truth to make it plausible… well… now at least. Back in high school she was quite bad at lying.” “To her credit,” Quick Fix started, “she only told me the time pony version when I didn’t take too well to her ‘found them in the bushes’ explanation.” “Needless to say, I get the feeling that is an outright lie. Correct, Lyra?” Octavia said. She reasoned that, starting out, Vinyl would give short explanations to lie rather than intricate stories like she had just heard. “As big a lie as saying that humans never existed,” Lyra chirped. All around the table, ponies groaned and applied hooves to their faces. “What? They really existed! Look at all the stuff around us, like Octavia’s mug. You can’t put a hoof around that! Why do we have it then?” “What is-” Octavia started. “Don’t. If you value your sanity, don’t ask,” Colgate interrupted. “Can you please just tell us what’s going on, Lye? You can indoctrinate them about humans later,” Quick Fix said tactfully. “Don’t you think Vinyl comes before your uh… observations?” “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “Okay, well, I am going to just come out and say that there is one common thread that links all of these stories, even the one Wrench told us, together. It’s not the sunglasses, but rather the pony. In all of them, Vinyl only gets the shades from DJ Flare. And that is because it is the truth. She never lied to anypony, but she changed the situations with every version.” “Well… if she got them from one pony, why make up so many different version?” Beauty Brass asked after taking a sip of her glass of clear liquid. Octavia now suspected it was vodka. “That’s…” Lyra trailed, looking down at the table as if it were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s because she hates it when ponies worry about her. More than anything else, she doesn’t like it when others tell her that they are concerned about her. Part of that is because she was worried over a lot when she was younger.” The minty mare sighed. “What’s wrong, Lye?” Colate asked without even a shadow of a smirk upon her muzzle. “I’m… I’m going to have to break a promise that I made a very long time ago. We all know Vinyl is a private pony. She doesn’t like others to know what she’s feeling, or even if she has any at all because she doesn’t want ponies to worry and… and she wants to be able to let go easily in case…” “In case what?” Blind Charge spoke as he leaned forward ever so slightly. Lyra looked down at her glass as she ignored her friend and pretended like he had never spoken in the first place. “Most of you know that we’re from Canterlot, right?” Everypony at the table nodded their heads (well, except for Berry Punch, who continued to lounge on the bench). “Well… My step-father is Duke Blueblood IX, my half-brother is Prince Blueblood and my mother is Duchess Harpsichord Heartstrings. Vinyl’s father is Lord Ebony Tune and her mother is Lady Ivory Song.” All jaws had dropped at the bomb. “Y-you mean… you mean that… that Vinyl Scratch is NOBILITY and… and she OUTRANKS ME!? Holy shit I never… I… ugh!” With nothing else left to say, Octavia smashed her head against the table: partially because she swore and partially because she was hoping the blow would kill her. A hoof from nowhere tapped her gently on her right shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, Lyra outranks you both, being the heiress to a duchy and all.” Beauty Brass tried. “Eh, personally, neither of us really care about that crap,” Lyra said. “It’s why I moved to Ponyville and fell for my Bonnie.” Octavia eventually decided to lift her head and turned to Lyra as if seeing her for the first time. Though she could see a mare reclining in the booth with a soft, warm smile upon her face, all she could think of was all the times they had insulted each other. All of the arguments and soft blows and… and… and now that she thought about it, Lyra had enough pull to get her whole family disgraced and yet she never did. “When we were foals though, things were very much different,” the green unicorn continued as her smile faded. She sat up in her seat. “We were pretty much cut from the same cloth as other noble foals: smug, egotistical, boastful, downright cruel to ‘the help’, as we called the servants, and not a shred of humility between either of us. Just huge snot bags in general.” “A-all right. So… do you remember how you two met?” Octavia asked. “I’m older by about a couple of days, so our mothers were both expecting at the same time. They met in the hospital and decided even before we were born to set us up on playdates. However, we didn’t actually meet until my first birthday party. Since then though, we saw each other at least once a week where we played in the nurseries and, when we got older, harass other people or play our instruments.” “Instruments?” Quick Fix asked with a slight tilt to her head. “I know you play the lyre, but Vinyl’s a DJ. Are you saying she could spin turntables even back then?” “Heavens no!” Lyra replied with widened eyes. “Our parents would have been beside themselves! When I say ‘instrument,’ I mean a traditional instrument. A violin, to be precise.” “Vinyl Scratch; a mare who once… pleasured herself… with my bow… A mare who has an utter psychopathic hatred for classical music… used to play one of the most iconic and elegant of instruments? Your honour, I object,” Octavia balked. “She didn’t play her violin,” the minty mare smiled. “She would play her violin. For years, she was proclaimed as the second coming of Trotovski! She could make old and hardened stallions weep like fillies with the right notes… It wasn’t so much playing the instrument as using it to express her soul and play the ponies! Vinyl was a prodigy to put it lightly. In fact, I think she’s one of the youngest pony to ever receive a Moldavi.” Both Octavia and Blind Charge were utterly taken aback and stared at Lyra not as if she had sprouted a second head, but as if she revealed that she was Princess Celestia the whole entire time. Awe, appreciation, horror and terror overloaded Octavia’s brain as she tried to register the weight of such a sentence. To think that she was worthy of such… such… “I think you broke her, Lyra,” Colgate said, waving a hoof in front of the stallion’s face. “And Charger too.” “What’s… so special about a Moldavi? I take it that’s a manufacturer?” Quick Fix asked. “Moldavi is a moose who lives in the wildlands. His family, for generations, have crafted the most perfect and beautiful stringed instruments in the world!” Blind replied, despite still looking like a pony caught in the headlamps of a carriage. “And they’re very picky about who they sell to. Only the best players of stringed instruments can even HOPE to purchase one. To see… and to hear one play is… it’s an experience to say the least.” “Let me explain in terms you might understand,” Lyra spoke. “A Moldavi instrument, to a stringed musician is like…a weightless sousaphone, a mouth filled with perfect teeth, a gold-plated titanium multi-tool or a century-old bottle of wine. They’re exceedingly rare and exquisite.” Each pony shivered visibly when the green mare mentioned the relevant nirvana of their trade, and suddenly were overcome with understanding. At least, Octavia hoped so. “If she’s as good as you say… then why have I never heard her play?” she asked. “Hehehehehe~!” Berry Punch giggled. “She made another rhyme! The smile on Lyra’s face fell faster than a boulder off Mount Canter. Her amber eyes even began to sparkle a little bit as she cast them down to her drink of rye. “Because she made a promise that can never be fulfilled,” she said simply and quietly. There was a long silence… as silent as one could get in a bar on a Friday night, anyway. “I hate to sound crass… but can you tell me the sunglasses story, Lyra?” Octavia asked. “Sure. It was seventeen years ago this spring. We were but fillies of nine, but we had both earned our cutie marks. Vinyl actually earned hers second, because hers wasn’t related directly to her instrument. In fact, this story begins at Vinyl’s Cute-ceañera…” ~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~ It was a clear and sunny afternoon in Canterlot with nary a cloud in sight over or under the city. From where she stood, Lyra could easily see to the Everfree Forest and beyond, perhaps to Fillydelphia or Coltsberg if they were not beyond the horizon. But she could care less about what lay beyond Canterlot; she was far more interested in what the backyard had to offer. Among stone paths, statues, and masonry were a fairly large number of fillies and colts about her age, all dressed exceptionally well, as usual. But what really got her attention was the colourful games and attractions. A bouncy castle sat to the left of the large fenced off swimming pool with games of skill and endurance a pony could find at any carnival all around it. There were spinning cups and even a couple of small roller coasters going around the yard interlacing with a miniature railroad to ride on. “Go find your friend, honey. Mama needs to talk with Auntie Ivory for a bit,” Duchess Harpsichord Heartstrings said with a gentle pat to Lyra’s head. “And don’t forget to take the present over to the table.” As the older, yellow unicorn walked off, Lyra took the gift from her magic and into hers. She carefully trotted down the steps from the patio where the adults sat and down to the lawn with the other foals. Right at the bottom, there was an impressive display of fine tables and chairs and a long buffet table at one end of the rectangular landing. Upon said buffet table, there was an ice sculpture of two tied eighth notes in the centre slowly melting in Princess Celestia’s light. At the opposite side of the clearing was a stage where an ensemble played ambient music to an audience of essentially nopony. But Lyra was a mare on a mission. She pushed past the distractions and wove between the tables and chairs to the opposite side of the clearing where, just in front of the pool fence, was a table overflowing with gifts for the special mare. It was not unusual to see such piles, since Lyra herself had one at her cute-ceañera not too long ago. So, she deposited her gift and went looking for her friend. Considering that there were only maybe twenty or thirty foals in attendance, it was a rather easy task. Almost as soon as she had set out, she found Vinyl Scratch trying, and failing, to throw a dart at some balloons. “Hi, Vinyl!” she waved as her friend stepped away from the game dejected and muttering under her breath. Her two-tone mane and tail were styled in their usual wavey, yet elegant way. Her blue bow-tie contrasted nicely against her white fur while complimenting her mane. The only thing different about her appearance was the silver toy tiara upon her head and her newly acquired cutie mark. Although she wore a dour and gloomy expression, a smile quickly filled her face as she saw her best friend. “Lyra!” she chirped and trotted over. “Nice outfit. How did your mother convince you to wear such a thing?” Lyra blushed, having forgotten about her butter-yellow and very frilly dress. “Her boyfriend insisted I’d look cute in it,” she seethed with gritted teeth. “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear friend. It’s really not as bad as it seems.” “Really?” Lyra said as embarrassment turned quickly into hope. “No.” Vinyl smiled in that awkward way she knew meant that telling a lie was more painful than being honest. In response, Lyra hung her head and hoped she would turn invisible. “It is only for one day, correct? I think it would be best if you were to just… grin and bear it.” “I guess you’re right,” she replied as she lifted her head. “So what would you like to do today? Looks like you’ve got all kinds of new toys to play with.” She really hoped that she would not suggest either of the rollercoasters. “Well, first I was thinking we should try the bo-ALTY!” Vinyl cried out in joy and surprise. Without even a second to process what was going on, the pony of the hour was off like a rocket. If Lyra did not know any better, she would say her friend had turned into an alicorn as she flew across the lawn and up the stairs to the patio with the boring old adults. Being left in the dust was never a nice thing, but Lyra would let it slide this time. She turned to pursue her friend, knowing well that they did not see each other so much now that her older sister had moved out into her own abode. Like Vinyl, she too admired the older sibling. Not out of respect, like they had to with most adults, but because she was fun! Alto Harmony was almost like a filly their age, but in a mare’s body. “Mother, I do believe I am being assaulted by a little white ball of sunshine,” Lyra heard the mare speak as she walked up the stairs. “No, wait, it’s Vinyl! My mistake!” She loudly proclaimed as she picked her sister up with her orange magic and gave her a tight hug. “Now come on, tell me; did you really get your cutie mark, or did you con Mom and Dad by putting a sticker on your flank?” Vinyl giggled as she was let down by her sister. “No, Alty! It’s legitimate!” The smile on her face seemed too big for a filly of that age. Alto Harmony was a unicorn of similar white to her sister’s coat, but with the cutie mark of an old microphone upon her flank. Most adults stared at her two-tone purple-blue mane and tail. Ever since Lyra could remember, they were done up with gel to make sharp spikes, with the mane in a mohawk-like style and the tail hanging free and long. “Hi, Miss Harmony,” Lyra said politely to announce herself as she approached. “Ho hi, little Lye,” the adult said. Her striking amber eyes were visible as she wore her black and purple sunglasses upon her horn. Almost like a crown, at least to her young eyes. “Are you kidding me?” she said, looking back down at her sister. “It’s legit? Aww, my wee little sister is growing up so fast!” A hoof met Vinyl’s head and started messing up her intricately combed mane. “Ahh! Alto! Stop it!” Vinyl whined as she was given a playful noogie. “Sorry, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a baby to me! Even when you turn eighteen and I take you out for your first drink, you’ll always be my little Vee. Emphasis on the ‘little’ part,” she said with a smirk before removing her hoof from the irate filly’s head. Vinyl glowered at her with embarrassment and slight anger, but it was quickly extinguished when she was given another hug. “You’re a butt,” Lyra could hear her whisper so that adults could not. “Its my job,” Alto replied with a smirk before breaking it off. “So!” she proclaimed loudly. “Did I miss anything cool?” “I’m afraid you did, my dear,” said their father Ebony Tune. He was a rather stocky stallion with an ashen grey coat and a mane of snowy white. His cutie mark was that of a single blue eighth note. “Vinyl treated us all to a little concert before the festivities kicked off.” “Aww, darn,” she said, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “I was really looking forward to that too!” Since she had moved away, she had yet to hear her little sister play on her new Moldavi, as she was working a gig on the birthday when Vinyl received it. “Don’t worry, Alto,” Vinyl chirped. “I’ll make sure the next time I play, it’ll be for you. I promise!” “Well, I was planning on staying the weekend, so sure! You can play for me any time, Vinyl,” she said with a smile. For a moment, both siblings looked at each other, almost as if they were talking with their minds in a way only close siblings could… in a way an only foal like Lyra could never understand. Alto was the one to break the silence when she loudly proclaimed, “Who wants a pony-back ride to the rollercoaster!?” “Me me me!” Vinyl said excitedly before being lifted by an orange magical aura onto the older sister’s back. In a flash, both were gone and racing down the stairs at breakneck speed. Lyra hated being left out of stuff like that, as she raced to catch up, but she knew it was something that Alto Harmony would do only for Vinyl Scratch. *** *** *** The last note of the melody echoed through the room as her hoof lifted from the wire upon her lyre. But when she opened her eyes, there was no smile, or even an applause from her friend who sat in the chair before her. Vinyl had her eyes on the floor and a gloomy expression upon her face. Although she had seen her mood when she came in for their weekly playdate, she wrote it off as something trivial since playing music usually cheered her up… but now Lyra was worried. “Vinyl? Is… Is there something wrong?” she asked after setting aside her instrument and walking over to her friend. She dreaded the answer that could make Vinyl upset, even after hearing her friend play. “Alto... “ she started, trailing off for a moment before finding her voice again. “Alto’s been sick in bed for the past week. I think she caught the flu from one of the guests or something and she’s been in bed since that night. Too sick for me to play for her, even.” Lyra’s face fell. Alto had always been a very healthy pony; she had never known her to be sick. Unless she had a lot of adult juice to drink. Then she would complain she was dying from a massive headache, which always made her wonder why adults drank it if it made them sick afterwards. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Vinyl. I hope-” but she was interrupted by the door suddenly opening. Turning to see what the commotion was about, she saw Vinyl’s mother, Ivory Song. “Come, darling, get your coat. We’re going out now,” she said as calmly as she could, but she was given away by her panicked eyes. “Wh-what’s wrong, mom?” Vinyl asked. Her fear and worry were plainly evident. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re just… taking Alto to the hospital to get her looked at by a doctor. It should be nothing serious.” “Oh. I’ll just call for a ride home,” Lyra said, not wanting to stick her nose into other ponies business. “No time, I’m afraid,” she said quickly as she ushered the fillies out the door and down the hall. “Your mother’s out of town right now and nopony is answering the phone. You’ll just have to come with for now. Should be no trouble.” “You could just leave me here,” she replied. “I mean, you have servants too.” “Leave Harpsichord’s daughter alone with the help? I’d never do that to my friend,” Ivory said. “Besides, if Alto sees you with us, it’ll help keep her in good spirits. You are like family to us, after all.” Although she tried to protest more, they were rushed out to the waiting carriage in the drive. Alto lay on the back bench, shivering under a heavy blanket. Every now and then, she would sniffle to stop the snot running out of her nose. Lyra and Vinyl could do nothing but watch as they sat across from her with the carriage going as fast as the driver dared through the city streets. Lyra would never forget the drive up to the emergency entrance of the hospital, where two orderly ponies with a stretcher came running up to the carriage. They quickly yet gently placed Alto onto the stretcher and carried her inside with herself, Vinyl and the parents following shortly after. The two fillies were told to sit as the parents rushed over to the counter to tell the pony there what was wrong. “Sick for a week” and “getting worse” were heard by them over the ambient noise of the waiting room. If Vinyl was upset before, by then she was utterly terrified. Hospitals and needles had always disturbed her, but the unknown condition of her sister probably hurt the most of all. The two fillies sat close to each other and tried to play games like ‘I Spy’ to keep their minds off of their surroundings and pass the time. A couple of hours slipped away before the parents were told that Alto was moved to a private room. The four ponies got to their hooves and followed the nurse towards the elevator and down a hall when they got to the floor. Lyra’s stomach danced with butterflies of worry; she couldn’t imagine how Vinyl must have felt. Standing at a door at the end of the hall was a draft-horse of a unicorn stallion with a clipboard suspended in a pristine white aura of magic. He looked up from it to the approaching ponies. “Ms. Harmony’s family?” The nurse nodded and left. “I’m Doctor Stethoscope,” he said as he took the parents’ hooves. “I have something I need to tell you both, but I’m afraid this isn’t a conversation to have in front of the fillies.” “Can you girls please wait here?” Ivory Song asked. Her normally well-kept purple mane was unkempt and her alabaster coat a little frazzled, but she kept her composure as true to the swan on her flank as she could. They nodded and let the adults walk inside. And then they pressed their ears up to the door. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Doctor Stethoscope said with his voice muffled beyond the door. “The reason Ms. Harmony isn’t recovering from her cold is because we found, during our tests, that she has overfinititis. It’s a genetic disorder that shuts down the immune system when certain chemicals are introduced to the body in significant doses. She couldn’t fight off the cold on her own.” There was silence for a moment. “Is there a cure?” they could hear Ebony Tune say. “I’m afraid not. It’s possible to bring her immune system back, but odds are that she will never have it fully functioning again, making even a cut potentially deadly. We’ll do absolutely everything we can to help her through this and in the future, milord and milady.” “So… there is a chance she’ll recover from this ‘overfinitits’ thing?” Ivory Song mumbled through the door. “No, as it’s a genetic disorder. But we can try to flush the chemicals out of her and try to kickstart the immune system again. It’ll be tricky though. I need to know… what does she do for a living?” “She’s a disk jockey,” the parents replied in unison. “That will make things more difficult, since such lifestyles often include a lot of drugs that can start the shutdown… but we’ll do everything we can,” the doctor replied. “You’ll have to get your other daughters tested though.” “Only one’s our daughter,” Ivory said. “The other is LIKE a daughter to us though.” If Lyra were not so worried, she would be touched by such a statement. The sound of hoofsteps approaching the door made both fillies scramble away and quickly put on their best ‘bored, but worried’ faces. The doctor opened the door and looked to the two of them. “You two can visit now,” he said with a small smile before trotting off down the hall. As the two crossed the threshold, Lyra stopped to take in the scene around her. The room was white-on-white except for a few chairs, some paintings and a few colourful plants decorated about. A radio on a shelf played some quiet but upbeat classical music But what really took her by surprise was the bed. Alto Harmony lay upon a green hospital bed wrapped in a plastic tent. Tubes were poked into her legs with bags of clear fluid hanging from a metal tree beside it. Alto smiled as they entered the room, propped up by the bed so that she could see her family. “Hey there, kiddo,” she said weakly. “Be strong, okay? I can beat this stupid old cold. Doc just said it’s a stronger strain than normal,” she lied. Vinyl nodded her head and sniffed, walking over to the bedside while Lyra retained a respectful distance. “I will,” she sniffed. “A-and I promise, I won’t play until you feel better! I don’t think I can knowing that you’re so sick.” “No, Vinyl. Don’t do that,” Alto said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you play while I’m here. I’m sure the other sick ponies would like it too.” She smiled and patted her sister’s hoof through the plastic. “O-Okay… tomorrow then,” Vinyl said with tears starting to well up in her eyes. “We’d better go,” Ivory said. “We need to take Lyra home, but we’ll be right back, sweetie. Okay?” As the adults started ushering them to the door, Alto sat up in bed. “Wait,” she said as loud as she could, which was a normal pony’s speaking voice. “Vinyl, come here. I want to give you something.” The white filly trotted over to the bed and stood right beside her. “What is it?” Alto pointed to the nightstand beside her bed where her sunglasses sat. “I want you to be a big pony for me, Vee, and look after my sunglasses while I’m sick, okay?” “What!?” Vinyl gasped, knowing Alto never took her shades off for anypony. “I can’t have them in the hospital, and who better to take care of them for me?” She smiled and gestured to them again. Vinyl looked at her, and then the shades for a long time before she gingerly picked them up with her magic, but she did not put them on. “I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of them while I’m stuck in here, okay?” “I promise!” Vinyl nearly shouted, the tears now starting to flow out of their eyes. Ivory came around and lead the little filly to the door. “Get better soon, Alty!” Vinyl said as she carried them out the door with her. “I promise,” she replied. As the four ponies walked back to the carriage, the future had yet to be determined. There was hope, no matter how slim it was, but no pony there could imagine how things would turn out. Vinyl always took promises seriously, so when Alto said she would get better, the little sister found a bit more of a spring in her step. While she did play once more for her in the hospital (to the staff’s displeasure), Vinyl insisted that she would not play again until she was better. *** *** *** If it had been raining, it would have been a cliche spring morning as ponies stood around in the piercing cold winds. But remarkably for Canterlot, nopony was paying attention to the weather as they stood upon the well groomed grass pocked by the occasional patch of flowers. A hollowness filled the pit of her stomach as they stood around the one part of the lawn and looked inward. But they were not at some garden party looking upon a new statue or gossiping about an outcast pony. They were standing around a grave. Not a month had passed since Alto Harmony had gone to the hospital, and now she lay inside a coffin, dressed in the best black dress money could buy. Her mohawk had been flattened and her tail had all the gel taken out, giving back the scarcely seen silky smoothness it once had. If Lyra did not know any better, she would have thought that she were sleeping. How she wished for Alto to spring out of the box and scare everypony as some kind of bad joke, or if she had been placed under some kind of hex that would wear off and she would step out. But… no. She was gone… and it hurt. Lyra could barely look as she dropped her flowers into the open casket; the white orchid and yellow tulip mingling with others and the scare few red roses. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she passed by, and then sat next to her best friend. Vinyl sat at the side of the casket with her head downcast and cheeks stained with tears. Occasionally a strained and muffled sob would punctuate the otherwise silent air as the filly’s body shook. Lyra leaned onto her and hugged her tight as the priest began to drone on and on like he knew her. She knew she could never comfort her enough… and that even if she knew Alto, she could never imagine just what Vinyl was going through. Not completely, anyway. But even if she could, Lyra knew that Vinyl would not speak. For clenched in her teeth was Alto’s favourite pair of sunglasses; the very same ones she gave to her in the hospital to look after. True to her word, Vinyl had kept them safe and sound just as she asked. In fact, for the last few weeks, Lyra would not be surprised if they never left her sight. "What is she doing with those gaudy sunglasses?” a mare behind them wondered aloud in a voice quiet enough not to be heard by the general populace, but loud enough for them to hear. “I daresay I hope she’ll be throwing those tacky things into the casket,” a stallion beside her said. “Not to speak ill of the deceased, but she had rather bad fashion sense. They belong in the garbage, but I suppose in the casket with her will suffice.” “Be quiet!” Ivory Song snapped quietly back at them. “Those sunglasses were her gift to Vinyl. If I hear any more quips like that, I will ask for you to be removed! And you can forget about being invited to any future occasions as well!” Ebony Tune had to lay his hoof upon her back, probably to stop his wife from turning on them and slapping them in the faces, though Lyra could sense a similar desire in him. She could feel Vinyl shake a little more as an inaudible sob rocked her. In response, Lyra patted her side and pushed back into her to help her feel that she was not alone. “... may you graze in peace with the Eternal Herd. A moment of silence,” spoke the priest as he finished delivering the eulogy. Lyra could feel Vinyl tense up against her as the moment stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. “And now, I believe that Miss Harmony’s younger sister, Vinyl Scratch, will perform a song for us on her violin.” Lyra had wondered why her parents had brought Vinyl’s violin case with them. Although Vinyl did not really look up for the task, considering how much she was leaning on her. Ebony turned his head to his daughter and spoke gently. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like playing, sweetie.” For a moment, Vinyl cast her gaze down to the ground… or to the sunglasses, Lyra was not sure which, before she nodded her head and took the case in her magic. Slowly, she walked up to where the priest stood, with the sunglasses still clenched in her teeth and the slight gust of the winds blowing her black dress about. Several adults looked almost repulsed by the sight, and she could hear some murmurs about the sunglasses and why Vinyl was carrying them in her teeth like some kind of common earth pony. Using her magic, Vinyl opened her case and pulled out her violin. Even during such a sad occasion, Lyra could not help but be amazed at how even in such gloomy weather, the white Moldavi instrument sparkled. No doubt, Vinyl had tuned her instrument before coming out that day, for she levitated the instrument up to her chin and put the bow upon the frets. But before she drew it, she looked at the crowd and surveyed them. Lyra could see, even from where she stood, that many ponies looked at her with disapproval, disgust, or condescension. No… it was not Vinyl they were looking at, but rather the shades clenched in her teeth. “My child,” the priest spoke. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t play with those… things… in your mouth… or on your person.” Lyra winced. He probably had good intentions, but the road to Tartarus was paved with them. Vinyl’s expression of sorrow and sadness swiftly turned to anger. She pulled both bow and violin away from her and slammed them back into the case. Before anypony could say a word, she turned around with more speed than Lyra had seen from her in a fortnight and galloped away. “Vinyl!” Ivory Song called out before she too galloped after her little filly. All Lyra could do was watch and wait along with the others as the casket was shut on her big sister and lowered into the grave. She cried again when she realized it was well and truly over… that Alto Harmony had been laid to her eternal rest. /***\/***\/***\ “Vinyl was… never the same pony after that,” the older Lyra spoke in a somber tone. “Hell, she didn’t even talk for nearly a year and a half until her doctors said she’d go mute if she didn’t use her voice. Even after that, to hear her say anything other than ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘thank you’ was a rarity. I don’t think she’s even taken her instrument out of its case since.” Speaking of silent, none of the previous awkward silences measured up to this one. Neither Octavia nor anypony else seemed quite up to breaking it yet, not that she could blame them. Like her, most were probably still digesting the idea of such a loss. She could never relate, being an only foal, so how could she ever hope to make Vinyl feel better about losing something so… so precious? If she knew then what she did now, she never would have- “How come she’s never told us? Aren’t… Aren’t we her friends too?” Colgate said quietly, looking as if someone had just popped her in the jaw. “Trust me, you’re as much a friend to her as I am,” Lyra paused, probably to choose her next words carefully. “She just hates it when ponies worry. After Alto died, everyone she knew was suddenly piling on her, telling her everything would be okay. When she’s sad, she likes to be alone and nopony understood that.” “Does she have that... condition?” Quick Fix asked, attracting the attention of everypony there, which made her blush. “Overfinititus? Yes, she does. She’ll get drunk nine ways past Sunday, but if you even suggest she do poison joke or something, she’ll deck you with no remorse,” Lyra answered. “Unless you’re a friend. If you are, she’ll just ignore you for a while.” “Octavia, do you have anything to say?” Beauty Brass asked quietly. “I… If I…” she sighed and looked up from her coffee mug. “If I had known, I never would have… I would have at least tried to fix them… but she never told me! How was I supposed to know…” “I never said Vinyl’s privacy was a good thing,” Lyra soothed. “To her detriment, sometimes she shuts out the important things while thinking they’re nothing. Uh… As an example, one time she didn’t tell any pony she had bronchitis until she worried her parents enough to take her to the hospital kicking and screaming… in a sense.” The silence returned as the ponies mulled things over. Even Berry Punch had grown oddly sober despite the half dozen bottles of booze in her veins. Octavia looked over to the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was a little past seven in the evening. She could not just let this stand anymore. She needed to remedy her mistake somehow and just sitting here in Ponyville wasn’t going to cut it. “I’m going to call home,” Octavia said suddenly. “If she’s there, I’m going home to talk to her. If not, I’m going to look for her.” “BARKEEP!” Berry shouted, making several other ponies in the bar jump. “BLACK COFFEE, STAT!” “... What are you doing?” Octavia said, looking at her. “You’re not going alone, Octavia,” Blind Charge said as he sidled out of his seat. “We’re Vinyl’s friends too. We’re coming with you. No ifs, ands or buts.” “Hehehe, he said butts!” Berry giggled, going back to her previous disposition. “I’m the one who made her go ballistic. So I’ll be the one to fi-” “No offence intended, Octavia,” Lyra interrupted. “But we’ve got some things to settle too. Besides, you alone won’t be able to browbeat a stubborn pony like Vinyl. You need somepony just as stubborn and assertive to do that, and we all fit the bill. Further to the point, between the five of us, we know all of her favourite hangouts. And if we find her, we can quickly rally up.” “Divide and conquer is really the best option,” Quick Fix affirmed as the black coffee for Berry Punch arrived. “Besides, it’s getting late and the only safe way to explore a city like Canterlot at night these days is with a crew of bad mares and colts like us!” Colgate laughed and smiled a grin that made Octavia unsure if she was joking or not. “Er… Right… I’ll just… go check…” Octavia said as she shimmied out of her seat. She quickly turned her back to the group and trotted over to a telephone she saw on the wall beside the bar. “Excuse me, sir, but are customers allowed to make calls on this?” “‘Course they can. How do you think some ponies leave here?” Quick Silver the bartender replied. That was all the answer she needed as she picked up the receiver and dialed their apartment’s phone number. The other end rang four times before a sound came over the line. “Vin-” Greetings, you have reached the residence of Octavia Melody and- VINYL SCRATCH! Leave your digits and message after the beep and we’ll get back to you when we can! Keep it chill, ponies! … Vinyl, that has got to be the worst message I ever- the machine answered with a beep at the end. “Vinyl, it’s Octavia. If you are there, please pick up! I’ve talked to your friends today and I really need to talk with you. Please. I… I’m sorry I broke your sunglasses. I didn’t know they meant so much to you. Vinyl? Vinyl, are you there? I swear, if you’re ignoring me, I’ll scream you stupid! Please?” She paused, but eventually the machine beeped again without an answer. She returned to the booth where bits were being piled and the ponies were getting saddled up to go. “No answer. Do you all have enough for the train?” she asked, knowing that she could say nothing to deter them at that point. They all nodded their heads in confirmation. “Very well. Let us get this madness over with.” Octavia headed for the door with newfound determination to find her roommate and apologize for her grievous mistake. Even if she could never make it up to Vinyl, she had to try.