It had been a long night after the announcement, which brought a thousand and one questions for Octavia Melody. Princess Luna answered all that she could and promised answers for those that she could not. Octavia was patient. She could wait for the princess.
The mystery had become a little clearer, but in doing so showed far more problems than solutions, elusive as those solutions may be. Needless to say, the younger alicorn’s anxiety didn’t fare well.
Despite this, the Princess of the Night never went back on her promise, and she did all that she could for the now-clueless mare. Tea was served to calm the nerves, the pillows were laid out so that she could rest, and finally her magic was cast to give the cellist a peaceful dream’s journey. It was more than Octavia felt she deserved, but less than what Luna wanted to give.
She awoke before the sun broke, before Luna switched shifts with her sister. They spoke again, but only of assurances of what was to be done and the reclamation of promises that were already made. It did little for her mood, but Octavia still left Luna with heartfelt thanks, words that the Princess bowed at and welcomed her back at any time, day or night.
Octavia reached home just as the sun began to peak over the far horizon, its golden rays shooing away the gray blanket of the night. It was of little surprise that she found Vinyl home already, just as it was of little surprise to know that she had been beaten there by only minutes. The unicorn always did keep to the odd hours.
Octavia didn’t hesitate to tell her friend exactly what happened, from the moment she arrived home and cast her magic to when she had finished her duet with the Lunar Princess. Either from fatigue or shock, Vinyl remained open mouthed and staring at her the whole time. The only movement the unicorn would make was to repeatedly adjust her slipping glasses.
Finally, as Octavia’s tale was nearing completion, the sun had too finished its rise to the sky, officially ushering in the new day. A moment of silence passed as she finished, unease settling in before Vinyl finally spoke up.
She didn’t disappoint the cellist’s expectations.
“Seriously Octy? Seriously…” The unicorn asked the single word disbelievingly. Her glasses were sliding down the bridge of her nose, maroon eyes staring at her gray-coated friend with bent brows. “You ran off to the princess again? And over something as small as just a little magic dye?”
“The matter was far from as simple as you make it out to be,” her friend returned with a bit of an edge, pointing her hoof accusingly at the unicorn. It only made Vinyl give a snort as she flipped her head back, glasses falling back into place over her eyes. “In case you have forgotten; completely understandable given your inclination for alcohol, but I am far from used to these new additions.”
To emphasize her point, Octavia spread her wings, lifting her head as high as her neck would allow. The span of her wings dwarfed the now smaller unicorn. The horn atop of Octavia’s head even took the short appearance of a spear. Octavia wasn’t surprised to see the complete lack of intimidation in the unicorn’s features. She very much doubted much of anything would ever truly frighten the mare.
“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” the unicorn dismissed the verbose alicorn with a wave of her hoof. “But what I was getting at was why you didn’t come to me for help.”
“I couldn’t very well go searching all of Canterlot for you, Vinyl,” Octavia returned to her unicorn friend. “You failed to mention where you were playing, and I was not about to trounce around the city at night.”
“Why not?” The unicorn taunted back, her doubtlessly gleaming eyes hidden by her dark shades. The cheeky grin she spoke with was enough. “S’not like a lot of ponies would have recognized you, what with that outfit you wear now.” The unicorn waved her hoof at the stand across from the room, standing in the corner with a heavy coat and hat upon it. Together they were plenty large enough to hide Octavia’s form.
“Any number of things could have happened!” Octavia shot back, her annoyance was due to her friend’s ever-aloof attitude. Vinyl had a similar feeling about Octavia’s consistently strict nature. “I could have been colt-handled by some rough stallion. I may have gotten lost searching the alleys your performances are usually held, or even worse, I could have been approached by some stranger a little more insistent!”
“You know, that doesn’t sound too bad,” Vinyl’s smile only seemed to grow as she spoke. How ironic that Octavia’s scowl was doing the same. “I mean, I’m sure you could have used a night. Hang your coat on the door and I’m sure it would have been all set.” The unicorn laughed as Octavia’s face lit, hot red.
“Vinyl!” The gray alicorn stomped her hoof as she spoke her friend’s name. It did nothing to lessen the smirk still plastered over the mare’s features. “How can you possibly suggest something like that?”
“Don’t worry,” the unicorn spoke back with a mischievous smirk. Octavia knew, she just knew, her friend was about to make another one of her oh-so-unique comments.
“We could have shared.”
That did it.
Quick as she could, Octavia let a slow trombone play a low D in her head, lighting her horn the familiar gray aura. As she did so, her magical grasp took hold of the small runner that was beneath the DJ’s hooves. She looked down curiously at the now-glowing rug. The unicorn had a bad habit of not knowing what was coming to her.
With a quick blow from the trombone, the runner was pulled out right from under Vinyl.
The unicorn had all the time to gasp before she landed flat on her back, left staring up at the ceiling of the apartment with an open mouth and doubtlessly shocked gaze. They were hidden well behind her dark purple lenses.
“Ow,” the words was muttered without any real pain, more surprise than anything else. It was plenty enough for Octavia, looking down at her friend with a confident and cool gaze.
“Serves you right,” the alicorn announced with a high and mighty tone, one embellished with the sole purpose of earning a rise from Vinyl. “Think twice next time before you suggest something so indecent.”
“Ta ha, yeah,” the unicorn let out as her head sat on the bare ground. “Probably should have put more than two cents into that thought, huh?” Octavia rolled her eyes. “So…” Vinyl lolled out as she raised herself to her haunches, pushing on the bridge of her lenses. “The princes says you’ve got a thing for… soul magic?”
“Hardly something so obscure as that,” Octavia returned, eyes upon the alabaster mare. “Luna explained it as my magic having an aptitude for matching the wavelengths of others. Because magic is something that is linked to ponies, it can be called a tool for studying others in a method that it is metaphorically akin to the soul.”
“Cool,” the other mare spoke with a bobbing head. “So, like, you copy their magic and you can see their memories then?” Octavia sighed. She had a half hope that if she sighed enough the unicorn might be a bit more bearable. It was a foal’s hope.
“Yes, that is it Vinyl,” Octavia didn’t even attempt to hide her exasperation in her voice. “At least as much as I can care to explain to you right now.” The cellist was familiar with the signs that her friend was descending into a tired state. Her over-playfulness was one of them.
“Relax Octy, I got more than you think.” The unicorn stood up to all fours, her tone notably more subdued. It was enough to actually keep the alicorn silent. “I just had ta give you a hard time, you know?”
Octavia would be the first pony to admit she knew Vinyl pushed her buttons intentionally. The smirk the unicorn put on whenever her roommate reacted was as clear a sign as a cloudless night that Vinyl enjoyed breaking the seemingly stern exterior of her friend.
“Look, I don’t know anything about this soul magic copying thing you got going on--” Octavia pouted her lips at Vinyl’s off hoof description of her magic. “But I can at least imagine it’s something like me or any other pony’s magic.” That turned Octavia’s pout into a questioning stare.
“What do you mean?” Vinyl simply shrugged her shoulders before answering.
“I mean, it sounds to me like this magic thing you did with the princess is how most ponies learn about their own skills.” Vinyl nodded her head at the question that was on the end of Octavia’s lips. “Yeah they got schools and all that stuff for the gifted and that crap, but most ponies just learn their talent by using it. We aren’t exactly taught that we have to use our magic a certain way. We just do.”
“You aren’t going to convince me that you were magically good at that infernal contraption you call an instrument.” It was a barb, an obvious one at that, but it got Vinyl to react exactly the way Octavia knew she would. She chuckled and grinned.
“Good to hear, cause the truth is I was just born great at it.” Octavia allowed herself a quick smirk and snort as Vinyl cracked up at her own joke.
Despite having just raised herself from the floor, Vinyl took the opportunity to turn and fall again. This time, however, she neatly landed on the sofa in the room, bouncing lightly on the cushions as she did.
“Nah, but seriously, music is a huge part of my magic,” she spoke as she absently waved her hooves in the air. It looked like she was trying to catch a fly with them. “I didn’t get taught how to think about it or what to do with it, I just used it. I just, sorta… listened to music a lot. Pretty much taught me all I needed to do to use magic. And now?”
Vinyl rolled her head backwards, staring up at Octavia who looked down at her. The unicorn had the cheekiest grins on her face.
“Now magic is as natural to me as playing on my sets.” Her hoof rose from the sofa, catching her lenses before they fell off of her upturned face. Vinyl repositioned her head back down, staring at the ceiling above in recollection. Octavia continued to gaze at her friend, the subtlest of smiles across her own gray features.
“Yeah, sure, you got your obvious differences,” the unicorn continued, speaking like she would after a long night’s gig, one of the few times she and Octavia would cross paths during working weekends. “But I learned my magic from listening to music. Ya know, like that Lyra mare, the one who moved to Ponyville.” Octavia shook her head at Vinyl, prompting the unicorn to stop for a second.
“Green unicorn, lyre cutie mark, sits up a lot?” Octavia continued to shake her head at her friend. The unicorn bit her lip for a moment. Obviously deep in thought. Her hooves clasped together with a clap as she remembered another detail. “The superstitious one! She had a thing for those humans?” Octavia, who was hoping to have a more cheerful ah-ha moment, found herself dreading the memories of said mare.
“Oh yes, I remember her now,” the gray alicorn replied, her wings wilting with her forced words. “The mare who had more taste for playing pranks than listening to opera.” Octavia shuddered at the memories that began to invade her, releasing themselves from their locked drawer.
“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Vinyl protested. “I do that all the time, but you don’t get mad at me.” Octavia’s dry glare made the unicorn add an extra word to her statement. “Much.”
“You, at least, are mindful of the time and place before you making a horrid mess,” Octavia offered her friend the back-handed compliment. Vinyl took it with a smirk and small chuckle, as she always did. “Anyways, what about her?”
“Oh yeah, well, I know that she actually got her magic from reading up on stories as a filly,” Vinyl continued her story. “She did a lot of weird things with her magic, like making hands and stuff. And, okay you probably don’t know this yet, but it’s pretty hard to try and do things with magic you don’t know how to do.” Octavia’s return was a look dryer than a desert.
“No, really? I’m stunned,” Octavia’s tone matched her expression perfectly.. “It’s hard to do new things.” Humorously enough, Vinyl wasn’t entertained.
“I’m serious, Octy!” Vinyl more whined than retorted. “I mean, like, you’re great at the violin and all, right?” Octavia wasn’t sure her if her friend missed the sarcasm or was upset at the remark. Nevertheless, the question was still enough to push her exasperation.
“It is a cello and yes, humility aside, I am astute at using it.” Octavia ignored the way her feathers bristled, as though they were being brushed.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you’re good at playing the violin, right?”
It took the gray alicorn a moment to realize what her friend meant. Names aside, Vinyl made an excellent point. Though Octavia herself was skilled at one stringed instrument, bow included, she would hardly consider herself anymore than a hobbyist when it came to any of the other stringed instruments in the family. She could hardly see herself playing the double bass, let alone the violin sitting perched like a bird on her shoulder.
“So, you’re saying that the way you learned your magic… limits what you can do with it?” Octavia wasn’t quite sure when she sat down, but it had to have been shortly after Vinyl unceremoniously placed herself on the sofa. It wasn’t an uncommon position for the two.
“Look, Octy, I’m not gonna pretend I’m any kind of genius at magic. I just know a few stories and saw some pretty cool lines between them. If you want more than that, you’re gonna have to bother one of the princesses again” Vinyl’s hooves fell from their up-reaching position, falling over her glasses and covering what little of the ceiling she found interesting. It only just occurred to Octavia that her friend was likely exhausted from last night’s performance.
“I’m pretty sure that Luna told you to go out and play with a bunch of ponies so you could learn more about your magic.” Vinyl spoke the words with a shocking amount of eloquence, her face still half covered by her legs. “I mean, that’s what I think at least. No idea why she didn’t just tell you straight out.” Octavia felt an unfamiliar part of her bristle at the words.
“I assure you, Vinyl, that Luna was very clear with her instructions and her assumptions.” Octavia defended the princess readily. “This… experience is as new to her as it is to you and me.”
“Yeah, you got a point there,” Vinyl lazed out. “Isn’t exactly an annual event or anything, alicorns sprouting up from normal ponies. Oh, but there was that Princess Cadance, like, a few years ago. Then Twilight, like, last year right?” Vinyl chuckled at the words. “Close to annual at least.”
“From what I have heard, their ascensions were planned in far more detail than my own.” It felt repugnant to admit the words in such a way. Octavia hoped Vinyl was too tired to notice the change. Thankfully the manner in which Vinyl rolled herself from the couch spoke volumes of her fatigue.
“As planned as growing a few extra limbs can be, at least.” Vinyl stretched like a cat, yawning deeply as she craned her back. Her legs extended till she stood on the tips of her hooves. Then, as if the carpet was pulled out again, her body relaxed until she nearly hit the floor.
“Speaking of plans,” Octavia ventured of her exhausted friend. “Would it be possible for us to-”
“Already started planning on it,” Vinyl interrupted the alicorn, not even meeting the gaze of her friend. Octavia didn’t take offence this time; she knew that few ponies retained their composure once fatigue set in, and Vinyl was no exception. “It’ll be fun, trying to find a song to play to.” Octavia struck a faint smile as she answered.
“I’m sure we’ll conjure up something. All I have to do is ensure you sign a waiver prohibiting damage of my tools.” Just as she anticipated, Vinyl chuckled once more.
“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” She jokingly complained. “You can’t call a practice done until there’s some kind of property damage. I’ll settle for just snapping your bow, but hey, if we cause a meltdown in my circuit board, that’ll be a day.”
The two shared a laugh, an honest bit of joy that only true friends could share. Neither looking to the other for a sign. It was a comfortable relationship, to be able to be themselves while next to the other, no need for masks, coats, hats, or any manner of façade. Differences in tastes and upbringing were cast aside. Such trivial things meant little to the two.
“Well, alright then,” Vinyl sluggishly moved her legs as she spoke. “I’ll see tomorrow about getting one my old TP rooms set up. ‘M sure one of the guys owes me a favor. I’ll let you guess for what.” And just like that, the old Vinyl was back, cracking wise at Octavia’s proper demeanor with her own aloof one. The cellist turned up her nose at the comment, suppressing a smirk.
“You’re right only that we shouldn’t practice here.” Octavia admitted to her friend. “We do not need any more ponies complaining about the noise again.”
“Oh come on,” Vinyl whined, stomping her hooves like a pitiable foal. “That was only one time. Well, a one dozen times, but still one time. That makes sense, right?” Octavia decided to save her breath.
“I think that’s as fair a sign as any that you should rest up.” Octavia directed her friend as she stood from her chair, brushing beside her friend. Vinyl didn’t hesitate to lean on her, just as Octavia didn’t voice any complaints of taking on a portion of her weight. It was far from the first time the cellist had to drag along her DJ friend.
“Yeah, fine,” the unicorn replied without a wall of resistance. “Let’s just make it quick. We gotta big day tomorrow.” Octavia could feel Vinyl push against her a little harder, likely trying to earn another rise.
“We do, but it’s hard to say sleep can be rushed.” Octavia countered her friend’s statement with well-practiced ease. “You rest up and tomorrow we can venture to one of your… PTs as you so clearly put it.” A dry moment passed the two as Octavia continued to direct Vinyl towards her room. It wasn’t far away, not while they were already in their apartment.
“TPs,” Vinyl emphasized next to Octavia. She may as well have shouted at the alicorn, given their close proximity. “Not PTs. Seriously, TP sounds fun to say. PT sounds like some horrible disease. Sounds like it would suck to have PT. A TP is fun though, always is.”
“I’m suddenly having second thoughts about going to this TP of yours,” Octavia honestly spoke to her friend. It only made said friend giggle at the words. “Perhaps Luna has a better location to accommodate us. Surely she wouldn’t mind.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Vinyl dismissed. “They’re closed rooms, s’pposed to be so other people don’t rip us off.” Vinyl, despite her quickly spiraling rate of lethargy, was able to adjust her glasses with her limp limb. As she did, she made note of their location. “This is my stop.”
“Yes, time to go to bed.” Octavia noted as she pushed the door open. Vinyl took her weight off of Octavia, moving into the room without much aid. She stopped when she was just inside of her room, Octavia outside the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” Octavia questioned. “Do you need help getting to your bed?” There was no mockery or condemnation in the alicorn’s words. She acknowledged long ago that Vinyl worked hard at her job. She would not spite her friend some comfort.
“Nah, it’s not that,” the unicorn chuckled as she looked at the ground, shaking her head to gain a few extra seconds of talking to Octavia before she went to sleep. “It’s just… you haven’t called the princess anything but ‘Luna’ since we started talking about her. Not princess, not her majesty… just Luna.” Vinyl let her glasses slip, letting her maroon eyes stare at Octavia.
“Gotta think on that one.”
Vinyl shut the door, her curious statement left Octavia wondering herself.
Though Octavia had slept at the Canterlot Palace, she too was due for a proper nap in her own bed. Besides, she wasn’t about to trek anywhere around the city before Vinyl woke up, and the best way to pass the time in the early morning was the catch up on rest that one may have alluded.
When Octavia rose again, she noted that she was in her own bed this time, and not one of Luna’s masterfully-stitched throw pillows. The sun was higher in the sky, though not quite to its peak. Its rays were still, for the most part, blocked by the blinds shut in her room, blanketing the young alicorn’s home in darkness. It felt more comfortable that way.
A deep yawn came from her throat, picture complete as she stretched her legs and wings to their fullest. Octavia felt the relief as soreness was worked out of the muscles. She was still far from knowing how many muscles there were, only that they had strengthened since her lessons began.
Relatively awake, the cellist pushed the covers from her bed, plopping onto the ground with all four hooves. Her back arched with the motion, finishing up her bed-rising ritual. Wings folded back against her side, Octavia made for the door, lightly paying a string of the cello in her head as her magic twisted and opened it.
A Psycho Note took off in her head as she saw Vinyl in the kitchen.
There was nothing immediately surprising about the unicorn’s appearance. Her hair was the normal neon spiked design, her glasses were still sitting near-precariously on the bridge of her nose, her coat was the same alabaster white; everything was the same. Everything, except the fact that the unicorn had beaten her in waking up. As long as Octavia had known her, that never happened. Ever.
“Hey Tavi,” Vinyl replied in a voice only slightly above monotone. “Good night’s rest?” Octavia was stunned silent.
Her jaw worked uselessly, trying to figure out what, if anything to ask. She momentarily entertained the idea that Vinyl was pulling a prank on her, but dismissed it. It was too early for that, even for the ever-entertained DJ.
“Sorry, don’t mind me,” Vinyl went on to say, waving a hoof in front of her face. “Just thinking about something.” Now Octavia’s jaw was near the floor.
Vinyl was thinking, seriously thinking. Not just a joke idea, not mischievously churning out a plan, but actually waking up early and thinking. The cellist briefly debated checking the skies for raining fire. This was surely the first sign of the end days.
That was until the DJ started chuckling. Octavia’s eyes began to narrow.
“Hee hee ha!” Vinyl cheered with her signature grin on her lips. “I gotcha good with that one!” Octavia would be remiss to say that her friend was wrong.
“Well done,” the alicorn returned sardonically. “You robbed yourself of your precious sleep to give me a jump.” The simplification of Vinyl’s actions did nothing to halt her chuckling.
“Yeah,” the DJ admitted through her laughs. “But it was worth it to see that look on your face!” Octavia rolled her eyes just as her friend fell to the ground with mirth. It was odd, completely outside the norm, but Octavia felt her own smile grow at her friend’s antics.
The odd act actually brought a return to normalcy, at least normal for them.
“Seriously though,” Vinyl spoke up, her brief spot of laughter finished. “You might wanna pack up your stuff soon. We’re gonna wanna get to the TP soon, at least if you wanna keep at least semi normal hours. Up to you, we could wait a few.”
“No,” Octavia quickly dismissed with a raised hoof. “No, normal hours are fine. Let me secure my cello and we’ll be set.”
“Sweet,” the DJ returned, rising from the floor with her grin and glasses still in place. “Trust me, Octy. The TP I got in mind, it’s one cool place.”
“This is not a cool place, Vinyl.”
The words only earned a small snort and a shrug from the addressed unicorn.
In Octavia’s humblest of opinions, this TP of Vinyl’s was the most poorly maintained hobble of a studio the cellist had ever laid eyes on or even dreamed upon. It was more akin to buildings in some horror story than a musician’s studio.
“Hey, you can’t knock the digs till ya give ‘em a try.” The DJ loosely defended. Either she didn’t care about the place herself or she didn’t want to waste energy trying to change Octavia’s mind. Both were near impossible answers.
“Give it a try?” Octavia asked, raising her chest and adjusting the wings on her back, concealment foregone. “We passed by three overflowing dumpsters coming to this building, walked down so deep into the earth that we are likely near Tartarus, had to step over what I only can hope was an uneaten burrito and not a decaying animal, there are cracks throughout the performance windows, and that sofa looks like it would eat me if I sat on it!” Vinyl’s mirth continued to grow throughout the alicorn’s ramblings.
“Yeah,” The DJ spoke without argument. “But hey, we got a killer sound system here. The fridge has got enough water ta last us a couple of weeks, ya know, if you want to camp out. Plus, being so close to Tartarus,” Vinyl spoke with her ever so confident grin. “We can play as loud as we want and no pony ever complains.” A groan of annoyance vibrated through Octavia’s throat.
Either out of habit or enjoyment, Vinyl moved her way around the room with a grin on her features. Her horn lit up as she moved by the main station, positioned in front of a large window looking into the recording room. As her aura surrounded a few dials and switches, turning them in an order Octavia didn’t comprehend, the lights and gears dotting the room began to come to life.
“Don’t worry,” Vinyl spoke up, obviously thinking Octavia had assumed the worst, not entirely inaccurately. “I just gotta set up the system from here first. Ya know, making sure we have the recordings all set up and the power on. Can’t play a set without some speakers.”
“You can’t play without speakers,” Octavia corrected her friend quickly. “I on the other hoof am perfectly capable of doing such.” The gray alicorn lightly tapped the case at her side, indicating with a proud smile her stringed instrument.
It wasn’t the one the princess had commissioned for her; Octavia had refused to bring that here. In fact, she had thought ahead and decided to keep it from public eyes until the time was right. Such a gift would obviously attract mass attention, and she was in the mind to avoid that at the moment. Her current cello was perfectly capable of handling anything she threw at it.
“Well you’re a rarity then, Tavi,” Vinyl spoke up, yet another nickname serving much to the chagrin of said mare. “Sides, the whole point of this was to play together, wasn’t it? We’re gonna need the speakers on if you want me to join in.” Octavia sighed at her friend’s words. She did have a point.
“Very well,” she relented. “I will get set up in the room, then. Let me know when you are ready.” Without another word, Octavia made for the studio door, pushing it open with her hoof. She dragged her case behind her, as she had done on the way here and as she had done for all her performances thus far in her career. Wheels were such a wonderful invention.
To her surprise, and satisfaction, Octavia found the inside of the studio to be cleaner than the lounging area. It wasn’t perfect, not with the poor placement of the chairs, few soda stains, and what she believed to be an overflowing trash can, but it was better than the room outside. The lesser of two evils, she supposed.
A few cello strings in her mind, and Octavia pulled on what appeared to be the cleanest of the chairs. It slid across the floor, stopping near the center of the room, facing the large podium at the far end. She knew full and well that the large deck was Vinyl’s station. She could have guessed with the large number of nobs, vinyl tracks, and speakers connected to the device. If the two were to play, facing one another seemed to be the most sensible of positions.
By hoof, Octavia unlatched and pulled her cello from its case. It felt better to hold her instrument physically, how she had learned to play the large and elegant device. Feeling the strings beneath her hooves, letting the body rest upon hers, holding it gently with her wing…
Some moderations to her hold had to be made. She couldn’t pretend everything was as it was.
“Alright alright!” Vinyl’s voice called from above her. Octavia wasn’t sure when the unicorn had snuck in, but she was currently seated right where the alicorn expected, above in her metal booth. There was evidently a spinning chair up there, as the unicorn was twirling on something. “Look’s like it’s time for the Mega Duo to finally have a jam together.”
“We are practicing together, Vinyl,” Octavia clarified as she grabbed her bow, testing the weight to ensure it was the same. Naturally, it was, resting on the string as it belonged. “A jam session is where you waste the night partying to that noise you call music.”
“We get some sick partiers going like that!” Vinyl either argued or agreed, Octavia honestly couldn’t say. “Sides, who’s to say we aren’t gonna get into that? C’mon,” Vinyl challenged from her booth, moving her hoof in a taunting gesture. “Show me what ya got.” Octavia only snorted with a shake of her head, grinning beneath her long dark mane. It was on.
She began to pull the bow across her cello, beginning the Kalevi Hoof’s Solo IV. It was an evenly tempered piece, designed more to draw attention with volume than skill. It began as such, but it didn’t stay in such away. It wasn’t long until Octavia found herself pulling at the neck of her cello, moving the strings to bring different pitches to her notes, playing them in chords that were guaranteed to enrapture any audience.
“Boo!”
Clearly Vinyl was an oddity. Like Octavia needed any more assurance.
Her bow hissed as she drew it back from the cello, staring up at Vinyl with an expression caught somewhere between shock and distaste, though surprise found no place in her eyes. Oddly still, the unicorn was looking down at her with a similar one.
“What was that?” The DJ accused. “You’re playing the same exact thing I’ve heard you practice at home! That’s boring beyond torture!” Octavia was not amused.
However, instead of biting back, Octavia decided to heed her parents’ advice. Banter was well and good for the odd spat, but to truly end a conversation, you had to stun a mare silent. The best way to accomplish such was with her skill.
Octavia placed her bow back on the neck, evening her breathing before she began to play again. A bit faster than before, she began to play Gunnar Badger’s Suite Seul. An odd piece that was taught to her some time ago, it had little place in the home of the symphony. It was designed to play at concerts afar, to ponies that wanted to imagine worlds alien, not just distant, from their own.
It had chords that didn’t belong together, notes that hadn’t been played before, and a tempo that changed as often as the alicorn’s hooves. She knew this place well, as she did all songs she let dance across her cello’s strings. Evidently, Vinyl did too.
“STOP!” The DJ bellowed again. And again, the song ended with an angry hiss from the cords, as if in displeasure. Feeling much the same, Octavia stared up at Vinyl and contemplated whether or not she could launch a chair faster than the unicorn could react.
“If you intend to keep interrupting me, Vinyl Scratch,” the gray alicorn began carefully. “I can fully well return home and play alone.” That was not the response either mare wanted to say or hear. Through her disappointment, Vinyl responded as Octavia suspected she would: foalishly.
“C’mon Tavi!” Vinyl whined as she leaned back in her chair, more exasperated than spent so far. Octavia was faring little better. “We can’t do a jam together if you keep acting like a stick in the mud.”
Octavia felt her wings bristle.
“I beg your pardon?” In truth, she really didn’t. Her patience was running quite thin. “I am playing precisely as I have been instructed to since I first took up the bow. Playing like a ‘stick in the mud’, as you so eloquently put it, has taken me to first chair in the Canterlot Symphony and-”
“And it makes you sound and look like a freaking tree!” Vinyl shot back with an interruption. Octavia pouted her lips at the comment, eyes narrowing. Vinyl either didn’t see it or was as passive about it as she was almost everything else. “Seriously, how can you call yourself a musician if you can’t even handle a jam session?”
Vinyl was treading in dangerous waters. Octavia critically questioned whether she knew or cared.
“I am a proper musician, Vinyl. More so than you and that contraption you pass as an instrument.” Octavia pointed her hoof at the DJ Station the unicorn sat behind. The mare only responded by shaking her head back and forth, harder more determined with each swing. To Octavia, she looked more and more like a foal with each passing moment.
“You’re not a musician if you just keep doing as you’re told you’re whole life!” Vinyl swung herself up before the gray alicorn could retort. “We’ve been here for almost half an hour and all you’ve done is just play of a few notes I’ve heard you play a thousand times before!”
“That is how practice is done. We can’t all just press play on our ‘instruments’ and call it a day.” Vinyl put her head between her hooves, matting her damp neon-striped mane. Her glasses slipped a little, but a backwards swing of her head fixed that.
Octavia kept a strong wing bent around the body of her cello, her normal and well-practiced cello. She didn’t very much like the idea of Vinyl keeping to her promise and breaking one thing before the day’s end. She half hoped the unicorn’s sanity counted.
The alicorn jumped as Vinyl slammed her hooves down on the table.
“This,” she began, sounding far less like the Vinyl Octavia was used to. “Is not. A practice. Session.” She took deep breaths between her words, as if trying to control some pent up rage. Octavia honestly couldn’t imagine where it was coming from. Maybe her words were more barbed than she realized.
“Vinyl, I-” The cellist made to apologize, but the unicorn wasn’t finished.
“This. Is. A. JAM! Session!” Her hooves slammed down again. Octavia was sure now the metal box Vinyl sat behind was reinforced in some way. That, or the unicorn had more bark than bite. She suddenly hoped for the latter. “Do you have any idea what that means?” She nearly seethed the words. Octavia straightened herself in her chair before answering.
“A jam session is-” She was interrupted once more.
“It’s where you lose yourself, you let go, you play whatever gets into your head and you keep playing it till your legs are tired or your mind is blank, whichever comes first!” The words sounded like Vinyl, but the emotion behind them was so much more than Octavia had heard her friend say before.
“You,” Vinyl put an accusing hoof towards Octavia. “Just keep playing the same thing over and over again! It’s so crazy that it’s stupid!” Any patience that the cellist had was quickly dissipating beneath the comments obviously meant more for insult than tease.
“Repetition is the quickest path to mastering a skill.” Octavia quoted many of her past teachers as she spoke those words, her parents included. “And what would you suggest? Just slam on my strings until they break?”
“If that’s what it takes, then yes!” Vinyl shot back with no hesitation. She must have been awfully thankful to have those glasses. All Octavia could see was the snarl of her friend’s lips. “Let loose! Go crazy! Live a little! I mean, I’ve recorded every boring note you’ve played already!”
To emphasize her point, Vinyl hit some series of buttons outside of Octavia’s view. Instantly, the speakers around her came to life, playing back every note that Octavia had wrung from her cello. The crispness of the notes emanated flawlessly from the speakers, taking every small pitch and ring that Octavia had produced; strings, bow, and all. It made the hairs along her coat shiver, adoring the sound. Then, just as quickly, it died out, doubtlessly at the unicorn’s command.
“See?!” Vinyl questioned harshly. “I just played exactly the same thing you did! Does that mean I’m a master violin player?” The unicorn having just insulted the alicorn in three different ways all in a few sentences, credit had to be given for the effort.
“You know no more of how to play the cello than you do exercise common sense.” Octavia coldly retorted. She couldn’t give into such childish whining, though this was degrees higher than what the unicorn usually pelted her with. Vinyl didn’t take the bait she set, however.
“Says who?” The unicorn spoke back. “I just gotta mix with these a bit and I’ll make a whole new song!” Vinyl was already moving across her table as she began to speak, twisting dials and moving tracks that Octavia could see. All the alicorn could tell was that Vinyl was very much in her element, but in the worst of ways.
“You keep playing the same thing all the time! I’ve never heard you play something some pony hasn’t told you to!” Vinyl taunted as she continued to work, the magic in her horn grabbing at dials and switches still beyond the alicorn’s sight. She was must have been working hard. It was the only reason Octavia didn’t pack her bow, cello, and leave right out the door. She was enraptured, unease creeping in.
“Watch this, Ms. Prim and Proper,” Vinyl taunted with the new barb. “Give me a few notes, a few minutes, and I got a whole new song going!” The unicorn lifted and slammed her hoof down.
Instantly the speakers began to play again.
It was unlike anything Octavia had heard before.
The pace was quick, filled with a beating sound that set the tempo. Octavia could hear the tell-tale sound of plucking strings, a quick trick she had performed to test the tune of the strings without touching her bow. She wasn’t even aware Vinyl had started recording then. She was well aware of Vinyl’s quickly deepening grin..
Then, instantly, Octavia heard her cello begin to play.
It was quick in pace, far quicker than anything she had played thus far. It took the dark alicorn a moment to realize that Vinyl hadn’t just taken pieces of her playing, but had altered it. She heard a note being played that she hadn’t struck near another others, made far faster than what she had previously. Then again, a quick chord rung out, one that she had played far before any of the individual notes.
The grip on Octavia’s cello tightened as the music continued to play. The music was horrendous, it was a mockery. It spat on her skill, and disgraced her talent. It did all of those things because, against any of the better judgment the mare might have had, it was something she loathed to admit.
It was good.
“C’mon Octy!” Vinyl taunted her friend from atop her metal stand, fierceness replaced by challenge. “Show some of that talent you keep bragging about! You gotta show your teeth if ya want me to believe you got any bite!” Octavia couldn’t suppress the snarl that took hold across her face.
The unicorn could taunt her upbringing, poke and tease at her etiquette, and even call her out for playing tunes from the past while thinking too far into the future. But when she started to mock her music, to pretend to have any level of skill in her cello, that was crossing the line.
Octavia was indeed livid, but she had always been taught one very important lesson by her parents, one that ruled above all else. It was not to remained focused, or disciplined, or even honest to one’s self, though all were important lessons. No, it was an unspoken law of life.
The best way to beat a pony was to prove them wrong.
With a purpose far outside practice or discipline, Octavia lifted the bow to her cello and began to play.
She played at a pace far faster than she had before, vibrating her bow across a single string of the cello in her hoof and wing. Subtle alterations were made to the pitch, rising the tension as she moved her hoof up and down the neck of her instrument.
“Yeah!” She heard Viny cheer outside of her hearing, outside of her focus. “That’s a jam! Keep it up!” Octavia had no intentions to stop.
She felt her breathing deepen and brow crease as she kept up her pace, playing notes she knew Vinyl had not recorded, chords she would have a difficult time placing. Octavia was a cellist, a master at that. She knew her instrument better than any mare or stallion, even royalty. It didn’t matter how well Vinyl was able to move around a few notes she played. She would never allow the unicorn to make a better song off of old materials.
Though that didn’t stop Vinyl from trying.
She heard the cello she was competing with, her cello, increase in volume, rising higher than the drum beats that made the pace. Octavia raised hers to match. She pushed until the strings strained, pulling across them strong enough to sweat.
Her wings fanned out, desperate for air. Her horn was lighting up, warming the top of her head.
The music was all Octavia focused on.
Suddenly, like an unseen wind, her cello vanished. Not the cello in her hooves and not the music she played, but the one emanating from Vinyl’s speakers. Somewhere in the song, the unicorn had cut out what she was playing, either impressed by Octavia’s already masterful skill or planning something else. A distant part of Octavia suspected the latter, but she did nothing to act on it. She continued to play her cello in a way she never had before.
The drums kept playing, carrying the beat as she, bouncing through the air to mark the measures. She was nearly alone, being watched only by her friend above, controlling only the other friend in her hooves. She knew it would not last.
Octavia’s shadow of a suspicion turned out to be right, however.
A deep noise, long and violent, blasted from the speakers. It entered with a boom, leaving with a hiss. It dragged through the air, churning the strings of her cello and slowing what was an already quick song.
In Octavia’s opinion, as she continued to play her cello at a rabbit’s pace, it fit perfectly.
It came again, in a group of three, running through like a monster’s growl. It clawed at Octavia’s sweat stained coat, demanding her attention. She gave it none. All of her focus was on the cello in her hooves. She suspected it was the same for Vinyl and her desk.
Octavia’s mind began to wander as her hooves continued to run, the focus giving way to instinct, a level of focus so deep she could hardly touch it. Her bow continued to beat and pull across the abused strings as her mind began to think of things she had never imagined before.
The cellist thought of what it would be like to play that contraption Vinyl could hardly even name, a station more than a tool. She could see herself adding tracks from other instruments into the mix.
What would it be like to add the bellowing of a pipe organ into the background of the performance, carrying the beat and rhythm like a yacht upon the ocean? Or if they added a bass into the mix, strumming along the cello in an almost symbiotic manner?
Octavia, despite her best efforts, felt herself grinning at the idea. It grew broader as the music rang on, and as the ideas kept appearing.
With enough flash, she could set up stage lights, bring the focus on instruments introduced at different points in the song. Make this mash up of a song complete with some flash. The crowd would go nuts over it. They would love it. She would love it!
She could be sitting in the center, surrounded by the ponies dancing to the music, by the electric chords, the strung guitar, but most importantly, her singing violin. She would be playing it just as fast as she was now, pulling the bow so fast, pegasi would be envious.
It would be perfect. Octavia could see every detail of it. She tilted her glasses just right, adjusted the lighting of the performance around her, it would look like she was playing every instrument simultaneously. A nearly mad grin took over the gray alicorn as she continued to paint the mental picture.
“Yeah!” Vinyl cheered above her, screaming with joy over the sound of her cello and the unicorn’s playback recordings. “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Octavia couldn’t agree more.
The session didn’t have to end at one song, or even one stage. If she were to bring Luna with her, show the Princess of the Night what she was capable of, they could be playing sets across Equestria with every pony’s enraptured attention. She could even mix up some tapes of their performances, include extended versions of songs that no pony had ever heard, add in extra instruments that would have never been thought possible.
They could put in a trombone, a tuba, a xylophone! Anything could work! With the right amount of practice, with the right touch of magic, Octavia was sure she and Vinyl could play across the land without any pony ever dreaming of matching them.
Her music was getting louder, her bow nearly beating at the strings without respite as the song continued. But she couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t let herself stop, not while Vinyl kept trying to beat her. Octavia could hear it, her carefully trained and tuned ears perked as sweat continued to bead and pour from beneath her coat. The music from the speakers was getting louder, faster, and maybe even a touch better. Octavia could do even better, surely.
So she played like nothing the Symphony would ever allow.
The electric strings Vinyl continued to roar through her speakers grew in number and volume, playing under, not above, Octavia’s chords. She tried again and again to overtake the alicorn’s cello. Adjusting the pitch, moving the placement, adding in number, but she never succeeded in overtaking her friend.
Vinyl was good, doubtlessly the best at her craft, at least in Octavia’s mind. It was something agreed upon but forever unspoken. Octavia herself, however, was more than just the best at the cello.
She was a master.
Vinyl knew how to alter and change what was already heard. Octavia was proving, here and now, she could make something new, though far from effortlessly. The sweat and panting breaths that began to push against her throat said that the effort was very much involved. But then again, she could never be a master without effort. There was simply no such thing.
She slid the strings with her bow one last time, reverberating with a deep bellow. Vinyl matched her as well, her electric chords echoing through the room as she let the speakers slow die down.
The song was finished.
END
Octavia collapsed into her chair.
Her chest moved up and down with almost comical size, her breaths deep and forceful, desiring every ounce of oxygen the air had to offer. Sweat was literally dripping from the edges of her wings, currently unfurrowed and laying limply at her sides. Her mane was likely beyond repair, split at the ends, curled at the base, and knotted in every which way along their lengths. She didn’t have the energy, or heart, to see the condition of her cello.
It was likely more of a mess than she was. She beat the strings without remorse and dragged her bow like it was a garden hoe across the dirt. She could feel, truly feel, the once fine and taut hairs inside the bow now frayed and broken. Octavia was going to have to purchase a new one, several if she kept up this practice.
“Oh yeah!” Octavia twisted her neck, allowing her head to lull in the direction of the cheer.
She saw Vinyl, dancing on top of her set, clearly far from expended in energy. Octavia was beginning to understand why her friend kept to a low cut mane and tail. Harder to drip in sweat when fur is shortened.
But she also saw magic in the air.
It was, again, similar to her experience with Luna. Her magic was floating through the air, hoving without a place to land. Unlike Luna, however, these were not stars that simply sat without a sky.
They were arcs of lightning, left in the air without a place to land, sitting through the air and moving like fish in water. There were easily dozens of them, spread out across the room like the electricity had blown and was deciding where to go. With the noise she and Vinyl had created, it was a likely possibility.
They were arcing with one another, jumping from one trail of electricity to the other, but without ever reaching the ceiling, the walls, or even the ground beneath them.
Then, just as with the lights in Luna’s room, they began to fade.
Softly at first, like walking a tunnel with a solitary light at the end, the jagged lightning began to fade, dissipating into the air. There was likely some science behind it, some mechanism that Octavia should know, but in the moment of, she didn’t. Right now, she could only watch as the magic she had created with Vinyl faded into nothing.
It didn’t take long before the room was empty again, save the worn gray alicorn and her DJ friend. Speaking of, said DJ finally took the time to make herself known.
“Now that!” The unicorn cheered again, pointing her hoof at Octavia. The smirk under her shades was unavoidable in the alicorn’s eyes. “That was a jam session!”
Octavia’s head fell forward. She only could wish she would pass out.
“Whoa!” Vinyl whooped out as she drank another bottle of water. “That’s what the doctor ordered! Oh colt!” The cheerful cackle that came from the unicorn was matched by a quick swipe of her head, sending droplets of sweat across the room.
While the unicorn swished and swayed with energy, Octavia found herself lying on a couch in one of the most unrefined positions she had ever let herself take. Her wings were sprawled out, extended to let every ounce of cool air touch her. Her head was lolled over one leg rest and her hind legs raised on the other. Her mouth was lolled open, panting, and her coat was matted with sweat - drenched enough to be confused for an evening swim.
“Now that, Tavi,” Vinyl spoke as she pointed her hoof at her friend, cheeky grin complete and all. “Was a Jam session.” Octavia rolled her eyes, the unicorn having repeated that several times now, each looking more satisfied than the last. “Seriously, felt like we were getting ready to rock the roof right off, maybe even take orbit!”
“I… hardly think…we played… that close…” The words were a mess to the alicorn’s own mind, but her fatigue was weighing down on her far more than her conversation with her roommate. She could only hear because her ears had fallen open, head lain back the way it was.
“Heh, who’re you kidding?” The unicorn asked, plopping herself down on a beanbag in the corner of the room. Octavia heard Vinyl take several deep gulps of another bottle of water. It was likely the second the unicorn had consumed. “We could sell that song and retire! Seriously!”
Octavia listened to her friend laugh at the idea, either out of mockery or enjoyment. She didn’t care which one it was, but it still felt… good, to hear Vinyl so excited from something that Octavia did.
But the ideas she had seen wouldn’t leave her mind.
She knew that they weren’t her own, much like the memories of Princess Luna’s were not hers. She remembered every detail of the ideas, of the thoughts and musings, but she knew not one of them was hers. For starters, Octavia never would have forgotten the name of her own instrument. It was more likely a parent would forget they had a child.
No, she knew now that they were Vinyl’s ideas, her special little projects she was thinking of in the middle of their ‘jam session’. It made far more sense for the unicorn to imagine different monstrosities joining their small session that Octavia, the mare content to play solo than in a group.
Still though, there was a question the tired alicorn had to ask.
“Vinyl,” Octavia let out between pants. She heard the DJ dislodge the water bottle from her lips, directing her attention to the cellist. “Earlier… in the room… those things you said… boring… did you… did you mean it?”
“Oh,” Vinyl let out in a far more subdued tone than just earlier. “Yeah, about that, that was my bad.” It was an admission of guilt, but Octavia wasn’t sure it was an apology. “I mean, I’m sorry about it, I really am, I just figured that was the best way to get you fired up.” It was closer, but still not quite there.
“What… do you…” Thankfully, the question was obvious to the unicorn. Then again, it would have been obvious to a foal.
“Remember when I was thinking this morning?” Octavia nodded her head at the unicorn’s words. “Well, I just remembered how I couldn’t get ya to do anything new when we first met. I mean, you turned your nose up at my grilled cheese!” If she had the energy, Octavia might have blushed at the reminder. As it was now, she was already too heated to allow any extra circulation to her face.
“You... called me… a brat.” Vinyl chuckled at the memory, fondly recalling what Octavia remembered as her first moment of annoyance with the unicorn. Possibly millions more followed.
“Yeah, but it worked.” The DJ pointed out. “You had grilled cheese after that.” She snickered following her words, like it was some great victory to her. Compared to the usual arguments that Octavia came out on top of, it very likely was.
“Was there a… point to make…” Vinyl nodded her head as she cleared her throat, preparing for a story. Knowing the unicorn as well as she did, Octavia prepared herself for imagining the important details that would be left out.
“See, most of the newbies around here keep thinking the same way you do.” Vinyl raised her free hoof into the air and waved it in a slow circle as she drooled out a list. “Practice hard, practice long, keep practicing, don’t change, don’t be different, yada, blady, dah!” Her hoof fell as she finished.
“Me and the guys couldn’t talk them out of it. They just kept trying to copy us so much that it started to feel like drinking bad cider. Bad taste and bad date.” Octavia managed a snort from her lain position, half-enjoying the idea of seeing Vinyl regretting a drink. “You have no idea how annoying it is to hear the same remix a hundred times over. Seriously, changing pitch does not change the jam.” Octavia kept her words to herself.
“Finally, I snapped at one of them, started going off and stuff. Didn’t feel good after that, but I guess it was like a kick to the head for the kid.” Octavia felt one of her brows raise. It was likely all she could do now.
“What… does that mean?” Vinyl’s grin started to broaden at her own recollection.
“Means that the next day, the kid came back with some new stuff, promised that it would impress.” Vinyl shrugged as she said the words. “Be honest, I just gave him the chance cause I still felt bad about what I said to him. I know how hard it can be ta scratch out your first tune.” Octavia remembered from her little ‘jam’ session how hard it was for Vinyl.
“But the second that kid put the needles on the record, I was impressed.” Vinyl was nodding at her memory, glasses slipping under the force and her sweat slick coat. “Wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but it was at least different from what I’d done that far. It was good enough ta get me to listen to the whole thing.”
“Sounds like… he impressed you.” Vinyl didn’t argue the words.
“Yup,” she spoke with that cheeky grin of hers. “Good enough that we got him an opening gig.” Vinyl chuckled lightly, clearly remembering something else. “I don’t think the name would be much to ya, but the kid’s got his own thing going right now, over in Fillydelphia. Not top of the line or anything, but hey, he’s got a name at least.” Octavia could understand the importance of that.
“Good… for him…” She was weak in her voice, body, all over actually, but she did honestly mean her words. Vinyl could tell that much.
“Yeah, but hey, me and the guys got something out of it, too. Probably not something we can brag about though.” Octavia turned her head to look at the unicorn, feeling her coat mat as she turned.
“What… is that?” She watched one of the unicorn’s brows rise above her dark purple lenses.
“Seriously? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Octavia kept her mouth still, not bothering to use the energy to offer Vinyl an answer. “We just had to be hard on the newbies, that’s all. No more pats on the back and story time, we just started making sure we got the effort instead of waiting for it. Can’t wait the world away.”
“That sounds… a bit cruel,” Octavia noted, the same as she noticed her breathing was returning to her. Vinyl shook her head at the comment.
“We’re not mean about it. Well… we’re not ‘cruel’ about it.” Octavia almost heard the light bulb go off in the unicorn’s head. “It’s no worse than what you told me your parents do, making you sit straight and all, being prime, proper, and all that junk. Difference is we just kinda ask for the opposite. It doesn’t matter how you look doing it as long as it sounds great in the end.”
To Octavia, the words Vinyl spoke sounded akin to saying the water was wet because it had to be, otherwise you wouldn’t jump in an ocean. They made sense, but only in the most foalish of ways.
Still, she was hardly in a position to argue, figuratively and literally. Octavia had greatly enjoyed the session she shared with Vinyl, and it was clear the other mare had done the same. Her questionable methods aside, she had learned more about her magic, if only by playing it with a friend of more years than any of her other acquaintances.
The question was now, what happened next? Did she continue to do this with Vinyl, play the piano duet with Luna, or perhaps have to venture out and find another pony to share something with? A slow sigh passed Octavia’s lips. She wasn’t sure.
“Hey, you still need to do this… soul music thing some more, right?” Octavia felt her lips crease into a small smile before she responded.
“Not the finest term I’ve heard for it, but I do suppose it will work, yes,” Vinyl leaned over towards the still lain alicorn, her grin mischievous in every way Octavia had ever seen before.
“Well, I got some friends I’m sure you can play with.” Octavia raised her brows at the suggestion. Vinyl clearly saw it. “No, no, not like that!” The unicorn waved her hoofs. “I mean they’re some awesome ponies, got talent in all the right areas.” An exasperated sigh left the alabaster mare’s lips as a small chuckle left Octavia’s.
“I understand,” the alicorn clarified. “I truly do, and I appreciate it, but I am not confident that I wish to do… this again so soon.” Octavia waved her hoof in the air weakly. Her breathing may have normalized, but she still needed a hard nap before her muscles were ready to move again.
“Whoa! No! No, no, no, no,” Vinyl yelled and let out quickly, slightly startling the tired alicorn. It still amazed her Vinyl was able to speak so clearly and move so easily. Perhaps it was one an adaptation trait the long nights had given her. “No way Octy. You just got broken into this. If you wanna do this more, you’re gonna have ta get used to some later hours. No rifftrack around that.” Octavia wasn’t expecting the slight pang of disappoint that brought. Vinyl may have been speaking honestly before when she said these sessions were like an addiction to her.
“Then… what do you suggest?” Octavia was still wary, though less so, of the unicorn’s pert grin.
“I met some cool ponies awhile back, both music players,” Vinyl began as she leaned back in her bean bag. “One of them I know is in Fillydelphia. Only started talking to her cause I swore she was you for the first few minutes I stared at her.”
“I will voice later my concern that you would stare for so long.” The response only got Vinyl to laugh before she continued.
“No, but seriously, ‘cept for the color and threads, she looked just like you, mane, Cutie Mark, and all.” That earned a slight stare from Octavia.
“Really?” she questioned. “Cutie Mark as well?” Vinyl nodded, glad to have finally grabbed the alicorn’s attention on the matter.
“Yup, she even plays a wooden instrument like you do.” Octavia was beginning to worry she had a long-lost twin her parents never mentioned to her. “It was smaller though, sat on her shoulder.” The gray alicorn almost whipped her hoof at Vinyl.
“That” she spoke with emphasis. “Is a violin.” Vinyl’s grin only showed more teeth at what Octavia had said.
“Yeah, it was, but colt she played it a lot differently than you do.” Octavia could only hope the mare didn’t still think the stringed instrument in the room was a violin. Honestly, it was easily four times the size. “I mean, she would dance with the thing while she played it, moved it so fast I thought she was gonna light it on fire! Almost like what you just did earlier.” The mare laughed at the shortly stored memory. Octavia, however, was having honest curiosities about the mare.
“What is her name, the violinist?” Vinyl shook her head to get back on track, clearly trying her best for Octavia. That mattered, more than just a little.
“Fiddle Sticks,” the unicorn spoke with no hesitation. “I remember cause I had to laugh at her name, kept thinking of the number of ways ponies would curse and call her at the same time.” As if to emphasise her point, she chuckled into her hoof. Octavia only shook her head, far more than used to her friend’s foalish nature.
“Who was the other pony? You said there was more than one.” Vinyl blinked at Octavia’s words, confused for a moment, but then she nodded her head, as if recalling where she had dropped the information in her skull. It must have been a long walk between all that empty space.
“Yeah, sorry forgot his name for a moment,” Vinyl apologized before she continued. “His name was Drifter.” Octavia felt her eyes widen. She knew that name.
She had met him in Ponyville, in Princess Twilight’s castle, following her break through with her magic usage. But no, Octavia shook her head, it wasn’t likely to be him.
“He was a pegasus from Cloudsdale, last I heard he had to leave his job because of some accident in the clouds.” Okay, that made it a bit more convincing, Octavia figured.. But still, she needed had to confirm it. At best, she could at least surprise her friend a little.
“Did he have a blue coat?” She saw Vinyl’s grin vanish, replaced only by a stunned shock expression.
Guess it really was a small world.
“Yeah! He did! How did you know that?” Octavia found herself chuckling at all the likelihood. She turned over, making her head comfortable on the foreleg rest of the sofa again, enjoying the softness of the padding.
“I had an exchange with him briefly outside of Princess Twilight’s home. It was just after you had left, actually.” Vinyl lowered her head until her eyes peaked out from above her equally colored maroon glasses.
“Seriously?” She asked in disbelief. “I missed my old rock buddy by a couple of minutes?”
“Seconds, probably,” Octavia humorously corrected. “He was waiting when I ran into him.” The gray alicorn allowed herself to giggle as she watched Vinyl childishly complain about the missed encounter, falling back into the bean bag with a slow and dull thwomp.
“Aw, that’s such a let down,” Vinyl whined out. “He’s such a sick guitarist. I mean, he practically had a second job just playing that thing for fun! People would throw him bits, thinking he was a street performer or something. Guess that’s his thing now though.” Not the most pleasant way to end a thought, but a valid thought nonetheless, to make one’s hobby a job when the job falls through.
“A guitarist?” Octavia mused. “Another mockery of modern music?” It was an intentional barb, a light one at that. The alicorn was in little position to do much else. She was pleasantly surprised to see Vinyl eye’s narrow in a comically serious manner.
“Hey now, Rock and Roll is almost as awesome as some deep bass techno. Almost,” She emphasized the word, almost too defensively. Octavia let that one slide. “Sides, how cool would it be to hear a mashed track of his guitar and your cello. That’s something a mare could get down and dance to.” Vinyl shook her water for emphasis, before gorging and drinking the rest in a little more than a single gulp.
“A violinist or a guitarist,” Octavia mused lightly. “How skilled is Drifter with his guitar? I wasn’t aware he used an instrument when we met.” That seemed to perk Vinyl up a bit.
“Oh, he can play alright,” She let out with a small bark of laughter. “Dude can play those notes faster than most ponies can hear them, but still make them sound good. Seriously, it’s like every song with that colt is a serenade or something. It’s freaking weird.” Octavia was curious now. There was only the obvious problem.
“So, I can chose to either trust the violinist I’ve never met, but I resemble to a ‘tee’, or the stallion I’ve had a passing acquaintance with.”
It wasn’t necessarily difficult, but it certainly wasn’t an easy choice. Neither side would likely feel any disappointment by her decision, provided no pony would tell them of it, but it still was not a choice to so flippantly make. Vinyl seemed to understand that.
“Give me a day and I can get a hold of either of them. Question is,” Vinyl leaned down, comically lowering her glasses until they rested on the bridge of her nose.
“Who do you want me to give a ring?”