//------------------------------// // Oh, Octavia! (Act V) // Story: Oh, Octavia! // by Bubblegum //------------------------------// Oh, Octavia! (Act V) Crescendo By ScoopDaily Through years of training and successful insertion, Scoop was trained to dive through memories, scoop up those most interesting, and plaster them across the front page of Equestria’s greatest nationwide newspaper, the Equestria Daily. The tedium of needing to surface for “air”, as he called the reprieve from the dreamlike state of memory-diving, drove him nearly to insanity but, with practice, he grew stronger in the skill. As his mind strengthened, so too did his psychic abilities. Little did he know, his powers of the mind stretched far beyond the simple exercise of dream diving. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well, buck. Years of hiding the secret. Years. How long had it been? Thirty-six months? Now, it was all spoiled by something Octavia should not have remembered in the first place. Scoop sighed, resigned to his next move. “No.” Octavia looked stunned, and Scratch even managed to look taken aback. Octavia recovered quickly. “No? You chased the young me down a back alley and into the an event I’ve never told anypony about! It’s like you knew what was going to happen! Care to explain yourself? How did you know what would happen back here?” Scoop shook his head. “You won’t remember.” “What do you mean I don’t remember? These are my memories! How dare you enter my mind and deign to rule my thoughts! You knew about this! I thought... for so many years... that I had dreamed this moment, and you knew about it! How? And why are you refusing to tell me?” “Yeah!” Scratch chimed in. “How dare you play around in my mare’s mind! That’s not cool, Scoop! So much for your professionalism?” Scoop looked pityingly at the two mares as the irises and pupils of his eyes were swallowed in a sea of hot, white light. “Fillies, this is my professionalism,” he said darkly as he extended a hoof. The fabric of the memory bent inwards and touched the center of Scoop’s hoof, and in a flash, all was darkness. The three ponies stood in a shroud of blackness draped about them like a curtain. Octavia and Vinyl were frozen in place by Scoop’s gaze. “Forget, my little ponies,” he crooned, his voice barely above a whisper. An undercurrent of magic amplified his words, causing them to resonate and echo. “Forget this memory, and be at peace.” Octavia closed her eyes. “I don’t know what right you think you have to control my mind, but you--” She was cut off as her eyes reopened to meet Scoop’s; his were now blazing with an unEquestrian aura, and soft streams of light curled from the corners of both eyes like smoke. Her pupils shrank and she mumbled under her breath. “For... get...” Unhearing, Vinyl mumbled the words in unison with Octavia. As their mental constitution fell totally under Scoop’s hypnotic gaze, they collapsed to the ground in a heap. The darkness around them roiled and frothed like steam as Scoop spoke his next words. “Let’s find another memory, Octavia,” Scoop said. “Perhaps its time to learn of your later school days. Let us continue our interview. This never happened.” As the light faded from Scoop’s eyes, hot tears ran down his cheeks. Nearly overcome with the guilt of what he had done, Scoop crouched next to the mare’s prostrate bodies. “Forgive me, my little ponies,” he said. “I am simply obeying my Princess. This... all of it... will make sense in the end. Your memories will be returned.” He closed his eyes again, and he clopped his hooves together. “Awaken, fillies. Let’s get onto the next memory!” Immediately, they were surrounded by The Tunnel again, and the two mares push themselves off the floor and staggered slightly. “Whoa, that was quite a jump,” Vinyl slurred. “Let’s do it again!” Octavia groaned. “I’d rather not, Scratchy. I have a headache.” “Oh, I gotcha, Tav. Shhhhhh.” Vinyl’s silencing hiss was far louder than her words, and Octavia flinched. She rubbed her temple with a hoof, moaning softly as the pulsing ache in her head caused the world around her to be distorted with ever beat of her heart. “So, what’s next?” Scoop asked jovially, trying to drive the spotlight from himself and their current situation onto the next memory. “More school days? First kiss? Hell, I’d settle for first date!” Octavia rubbed her mane thoughtfully, squinting into the bright panels. “I suppose... after the Cutie Mark memory, the next most important one is indeed my first date! Although, I feel like I’m forgetting something...” The memory in Scoop’s mind gave a jerk, and scoop cried out in alarm. Two sets of ears swiveled towards him, followed by two pony faces. “Scoop, are you alright? We don’t have to go to my first date, if that makes you uncomfortable.” “NO! I mean, no,” Scoop shouted, suddenly flustered. “I’m good with it. I just... was surprised YOU wanted to go, that’s all. Heh.” Octavia gave him an odd look, but declined to press the issue. She turned and trotted down the dark tunnel past bank upon bank of memories, continuing past several Scoop would have labeled “interesting”, if he himself had been the memory guide. He was merely the reporter, though, and it was up to Octavia what details she wanted to disclose. He massaged his temples, squinting slightly. ‘That’s never happened before,’ Scoop thought to himself. ‘Her total recall is so strong. With a little bit of training, she could be an excellent psychic. Just like...’ His internal monologue was interrupted as Vinyl called out. “Hey, ya passed it, Octy! Our first date is right here!” Octavia laughed. “Vinyl, you know full well that you were not my first date! Come along.” Vinyl tried to look offended. “I knew no such thing! After all, you never told me her name! I was beginning to think that you made her up! Fabricated her! Pulled her out of your rump!” Octavia turned to Vinyl, blushing angrily. “Hold your tongue! That is NO way to speak to a lady, especially when there are others present!” She motioned in Scoop’s general direction. Vinyl lowered her head and mumbled. “You didn’t mind before.” Pretending not to hear her, Octavia continued down the darkened corridor. After what seemed like miles of walking they came to a dim, foggy memory, the corners of whose pane were bent slightly inward. Black streaks seemed to be sucked from the edges of the pane, swirling towards the center of the memory. “Hang on!” said Scoop, rushing forward. “Hold on one second! That memory is damaged!” “Nonsense!” said Octavia, placing a hoof on the foggy sill. It bent slightly, but maintained its solidity. “I remember this memory quite clearly. In fact, it’s one of my more precious memories! I’ve guarded it for years, and treasured it. There’s no way it could be damaged!” Scoop facehoofed. “Do you not see the fading around the edges? The foggy, almost ethereal glow surrounding it? This memory could be dangerous! Elements of this memory may not even be real!” Octavia took a moment to look appalled, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, you’re the expert. Perhaps you’d like to take a look at it before we progress any further?” Scoop nodded and leaned closer to examine the memory pane. Soft tinges of black curled off the sides of the tunnel and were pulled into the memory, swirling and tinging the scene in a black dance of tie-dye. Figures in the dream fizzed and popped as if it were an ancient reel tape played back on a broken projector. Worse yet, a cloudy mist settled over many parts of the memory, leaving a dusty sheen where Scoop tried to brush them away. “Octavia, this memory is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, damaged. I don’t know how, as its log seems to have been swept clean of any data, but entering this memory at this stage could be detrimental to our collective mental health. Damaged memories are almost as dangerous as dreams.” Octavia huffed. “Well, what do you propose? Shall we select a different memory entirely?” Vinyl drooped at this suggestion. Taking note of Scratch’s obvious disapproval for this plan, Scoop shook his head. “If we were to rewind the memory to a point where it solidified, and then try to experience it linearly, we may have a shot of not only experiencing the memory, but correcting whatever damage has been done as well. I’ve done it dozens of times in other pony’s memories, although your sister has provided more than her share of such experiences.” Vinyl laughed at this, and even Octavia chuckled slightly. “Well, I suppose I can attempt to remember events leading up to my first date. Why don’t we travel back to when I was asked out and see if that helps to settle things?” Nodding his approval, Scoop signaled that this would be acceptable, and Octavia began to concentrate. “Don’t hurt yourself there, brainiac!” Vinyl teased, and Octavia bucked her solidly on the shoulder, sending her flying down the hall. She impacted solidly and tumbled for a few feet before coming to a rest at the base of a glowing memory panel. “It’s not me that will be hurt!” Octavia shot, and Scratch sat up, looking none the worse for wear. “That’s what I call tough love!” she said somewhat approvingly! “Let’s do it again in a more... private setting.” This she said with a sidelong glance at Scoop, who gave the couple a roguish grin and wiggled his eyebrows. Vinyl laughed, but Octavia stared disapprovingly. Octavia began to focus again and the memory whirled backwards. As with all memories, when rewinding or fast-forwarding, every time change occurred from Octavia’s viewpoint. Vinyl Scratch laughed as they viewed the world galloping backward through Octavia’s eyes. Octavia continued to rewind until a beige stallion appeared at the panel. His brown eyes bored straight into Octavia’s own, and her sharp intake of breath signaled how uncomfortable she was with this. “Octavia, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” She shook her head. “We have to,” she said, her voice solid and tinged with conviction. Vinyl was suddenly serious, although she maintained her nonchalant demeanor. “Why?” “Because this date defines my sexuality in no uncertain terms.” Scoop and Scratch blushed a deep scarlet, but Octavia continued to stare straight into the semi-foggy memory. “Before this moment... I had no idea who I was. I’m not going to claim, as some would, that this is a turning point in my life. It is, however, a very important moment. It will be integral to your article.” “Octavia,” Vinyl ventured, looking concerned. “Is something wrong?” Octavia turned her head slightly, revealing her face to Scratch and Scoop. Tears streamed from both eyes, and her lips quivered as she tried to resist sobbing. “I- I don’t know. I feel like... like I lost something. Like a piece of me has been stripped away. Everything is foggy and... for the life of me, I don’t know why.” Scoop shuffled his feet and coughed. “I don’t mean to press you into this, Mistress Pie. Like I said before, we don’t have to do this. As things stand now, I have more than enough for an article. Perhaps we should brand this a success and be done with it.” Resolutely shaking her head, Octavia plunged into the memory. From within, her voice called back to the pair of perturbed ponies. “You’re coming with me. You’re going to see everything as I saw it. Then, you will leave my memories... forever.” As the power of Octavia’s voice surrounded them, pulling them through the panel and into the memory, Scoop and Scratch began to tumble end over end into the thick fog of the damaged memory. They landed softly in the dirt at Octavia’s feet. This Octavia, however, was not the one who had dragged them into the memory; this was the Octavia whose eyes they had been viewing the memory through. She jumped back, startled by the intrusion of the two ponies. “Oh, my gracious! Are you to all right?” she said, helping first Scratch, then Scoop to their feet. “You aren’t hurt, are you?” “No, Octavia, we’re fine. Thanks for...” Scoop trailed off as he noticed the obviously young Octavia staring fixedly at him. “Octavia?” “How do you know my name?” “How do I... what do you mean? Of course I know your name.” “Are you a fan?” “A... a fan? Octavia, it’s me! Scoop Daily! The reporter?” The teenage Octavia looked confused. “Oh. So you’re a reporter, then? I’m sorry, I really have no time for an interview right now. I’ve taken a personal day.” Scratch had just recovered from the fall, having bumped her head rather hard on the floor of the memory. “Scoop, what’s going on? Why doesn’t she remember us?” She waved her hooves in front of Scoop’s face, and he turned to look at her. “I think I screwed up,” said Scoop, who turned and stalked away without further explanation. Scratch, giving a parting glance in the now-otherwise-occupied Octavia, followed after him. “Hold up there, Daily! Just what in Equestria is going on here? I thought we were going to watch Octavia’s first date!” She rounded him from the left, trying to cut off his path; she was stopped by the look of fierce determination on his face. “Daily! What the buck is wrong?” Scoop sighed and dropped onto his belly, hooves sprawled out before and behind him. “I’m so tired, Scratch. I don’t want to fight about this, but it’s imperative that we leave this memory as soon as possible. Like I said, damaged memories are dangerous, and the fact that Octavia’s memory-double could not only see us but touch and converse with us seems to be lost on you.” The light of understanding dawned in Vinyl’s eyes. “Oh, yeah, huh?” she said, ever-eloquent. “But... how? And why?” Scoop shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. First things first, we have to find the real Octavia to escape this memory. Without her, we’re trapped wandering this fair until Shiitake wakes us up... or, until one of us falls asleep. Whichever comes first.” “I don’t understand this whole ‘falling asleep’ thing. I mean, sure it sounds dangerous, but how can we fall asleep? Aren’t we already sleeping?” Scoop, sighing in defeat and looking tired, rounded on Scratch. “Think of this plane like a globe with multiple layers... an orb-cake, if you will.” “Ooooh, I love orb-cake!” “Focus, please.” “Sorry.” “The first layer is our outer consciousness. It’s the layer we must pass through in order to enter this memory bank. It is also the layer on which active live primarily occurs. When you eat, sleep, breath, etcetera, you are doing so using brain power generated in the outer layer.” Vinyl hummed thoughtfully. “Hmmm... okay.” “Now, the layer within that is what we call the ‘dream layer.’ It is the layer in which my power is based. All of my abilities hinge upon accessing this ‘dream layer’ while I am awake. It’s what makes memory-diving what it is; a cube surrounded on all sides by interactive ‘curtains’ of memory. “The layer within the second layer, or the third layer, is entirely visual. We call this one the ‘memory layer.’ Our consciousnesses currently reside in this layer. We can see, hear, feel, touch, and taste Octavia’s memories because she has already done so. We are simply accessing the memory layer by viewing it through the dream layer, like looking at an ant through a magnifying glass.” “How can our consciousnesses reside in this layer if we are merely looking at it from the outside?” Scratch asked. Scoop was somewhat impressed by her intelligent question and began to see Vinyl for the mare she was on the inside. “An excellent question. If we were only to look through the magnifying glass as if it were a giant window, we would only be able to see the ant. We would not be able to hear it, touch it, smell it, or taste it (not that we would want to). By projecting ourselves through the magnifying glass, as though we were beams of light, we are able to interact with the memories, or in this analogy, the ant.” “That all makes sense, so why is falling asleep so dangerous?” “Let’s imagine that the center of the orb-cake is not solid like the rest of it. Instead of being made of cake like the rest of it, it is a cream filling. Just like a cake, the entire memory construct relies on that ‘filling’ for stability; if you remove the filling from an orb cake, the whole thing would collapse in on itself. The filling is necessary, and therefore cannot be removed. “Now, let’s imagine that the cream filling begins to seep into the rest of the cake... say, by jamming a knife through all the layers and into the center. The cream filling seeps through all the layers and begins to permeate the rest of the cake. If you poke too many holes in the layers, the cake collapses into a soggy, gooey mess.” “Are you going to bring your point home anytime soon?” Scratch asked, somewhat irked by Scoop’s long-winded explanation. Taking into account Vinyl’s obvious impatience and the urgency of his own goals, Scoop did as he was asked. “That cream-filled center is Octavia’s consciousness. We are raisins in the layers of the cake, while Octavia is the cream in the center. We can sense her flavor; that’s why she is able to be in contact with us, and to guide us through her memories. We, however, do not want to be in direct contact with that filling. It could drive us mad. If either of us falls asleep, we plunge inward into that filling. If Octavia falls asleep, however, it’s as if the filling explodes outwards, destroying the rest of the construct. Everything becomes covered in the filling. In short, game over.” “What makes you think any of us are going to fall asleep?” Scoop stopped walking and turned to look into Vinyl’s eyes... well, into her trademark purple shades, anyway. “Does Octavia get moody when she’s tired?” Vinyl put up a hoof as if to speak, then turned bright red as a look of horror crossed her face. “I thought so. If we don’t find her before she falls asleep and pull her out of this layer, we’ll be bucked when the cream layer explodes. If we can’t find her...” “What do you mean, if we can’t find her? We have to find her.” “The further we are from the center when it explodes, the better.” Scoop began to walk in between the booths at the fair, searching the faces in the crowd for Octavia’s. Vinyl turned a moment to look over her shoulder. “Oh, Octavia. I hope we’re not too late.”