Ostinato

by bobthedalek


Neighing in the Rain

Even though it was 9:30 in the morning on a work day, Ostin was still in his pyjamas. Standing up on his hind legs on top of his bed, he leant out of the open skylight in the roof, taking in the view of the rooftops of the other buildings in Colton-on-Sea that lay beyond the bottom of the garden, framed rather smartly by the railway viaduct that ran over the tops of the houses further back. The mist that had rolled in from the sea the night before was slowly beginning to burn away in the morning sunshine, causing most of the buildings to look like they were emerging from a sea of white. The smell of smoke from coal fires in the other houses in the street lingered in the air, signalling that almost everypony in the street was up and trying to burn away the morning chill.

Ostin twiddled Mixy’s I.D. card in his forehooves, casually whistling a little tune as he did so. He’d spent the previous night trying to work out just how he could have come to having it in his possession, quickly realising that it must have happened when he collided with her shortly after enrolling.

“Ostin!” Sandy called up two flights of stairs to his room in the roof space “Breakfast!”
“Coming!” Ostin shouted back, before returning his gaze to the small picture of Mixy.

She looked…pretty.

He continued to look at her picture, focusing on the small crimson bow tucked partially behind her ear. If he was ever going to find her and return the card to her, then he felt that was most likely going to be the object that would define her in a crowd.

“Ostin!” Sandy burst into the room, the grease stains on the apron she was wearing and the stray hairs of her mane that was tied back showed that cooking had been something of a challenge that morning.

Ostin turned round from where he stood to see her, quickly tucking the card into his mane so Sandy wouldn’t know he’d been looking at it. The thought of anypony finding out he’d been looking at a picture of mare was far to embarrassing for him.

Sandy pushed her glasses up her nuzzle “It’s been five minutes since I called you. What have you been doing?”
“I…um…err…” Ostin stared.
Sandy smiled “You’re not the first young stallion I’ve had to repeatedly shout for breakfast in this house. Now come on, or you’ll be late for your tram”

Ostin was about to step down off the bed, but he didn’t get a chance. Before he could even make a move Sandy approached him and grabbed his yellow tail with her teeth, yanking on it and pulling him down to the floor. All Ostin could do was pout as she dragged him down stairs to the kitchen.


To say that Lord Spyglass was annoyed was an understatement.

Sitting at the head of the large oak table in the centre of the cavernous dining room, he stared straight down to the other end where Mixy was sat, framed by the morning sunshine streaming through the large bay window. His eyes narrowed and fixated on her as she slowly, calmly and very politely finished the last few pieces of her breakfast. Setting her cereal spoon down inside the now empty bowl, Mixy casually picked up the serviette on the table and dabbed it against her lips, wiping away the last of the milk.

Spyglass simply cracked the joints in his forehooves, exhaling deeply “You may take the used crockery and cutlery, Parker”

Parker had been standing in the corner nearest the door to room, just in the blind spot of Spyglass’ field of vision underneath the minstrel's gallery. Not in his chauffer’s jacket, he was now in his normal butler’s attire, consisting of a black jacket, white shirt and tie. He stepped forward, not saying a word and began stacking up the bowls and plates on the table. Anyone would have thought he was an entirely different pony from the way he acted when in the presence of Lord Spygass.

Spyglass inhaled deeply “I’m very disappointed in you Mixed Media…”

Mixy said nothing, save for a slightly inaudible gulp, she’d learnt over the years that it was easier just to look straight at her father and not say a word.

“You turn up late for the gala dinner last night, embarrassing me and your mother in front of most of the crème de la crème of Colton-on-Sea, you don’t offer a single explanation as to where you been, you take no interest in the conversations of others, you seem rather fazed by the whole situation, and to top it all off for some reason you smelt of oranges and lemons!”
“Most ponies seemed to be complimenting me on that last part”

Spyglass slammed a hoof down on the table, sending the room into silence. Mixy froze in her seat. She hadn’t meant to blurt out what she said, but there were times when she really did want to just speak her mind. Parker too, was also unsure as how to act at his Lordship’s sudden burst of anger.

Spyglass gritted his teeth “You may leave the room Parker. Have the carriage ready and waiting for my daughter, will you”

Parker took one final look towards Mixy. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to help, possibly even give Spyglass a piece of his mind about how he treated his daughter, but he was pretty much powerless to do so. He gently placed the silver coffee pot he was holding down on the dining table and left the room, not daring to say a word.

And then followed the silence. It was only for a few seconds, but to Mixy it seemed almost like an eternity. With a screech that pierced the silence like a dagger, Spyglass pushed his ornate dining chair back on the polished wood floor.

“I know at times I may come across as arrogant Mixed Media, but I think you should know that it’s only because your mother and I have your best interests at heart…”

Mixy chomped her teeth shut together behind her lips, trying to conceal her anger at that statement.

“And all we’re trying to do is to make what we think will be the best possible future life for you” Spyglass continued, stepping down onto all four hooves and walking down to Mixy’s end of the table “Yet it always seems like everything we arrange casually passes you by. Why is that? Tell me, why?”

Mixy brushed her long, flowing charcoal black mane behind her head with a forehoof, trying to remain as calm as possible “I guess I’m just not interested in living a life that constantly involves fancy dinner parties, galas, croquet, a vast wardrobe of hoof tailored suits and dresses and laughing at the lower classes”

Mixy picked up her teacup with one of her forehooves, looking to take a sip from it.

“NOT INTERESTED!!!” Spyglass’ voice almost rose to a shriek.

He rose up onto his hind legs, slamming his forehooves down on the table infront of Mixy, causing her to jump in her seat, dropping her teacup onto its saucer and almost spilling the last of its contents over the neatly pressed tablecloth.

“How dare you!” His voice became gruffer as he began to shout at the top of his lungs “I’ll have you know that all of the young stallions at the dinner last night had been carefully selected by your mother and I in the hopes that one of them would eventually become your suitor” Spyglass leant in closer “And I’ll be damned if this families’ noble future is going to be tainted because of you and your lack of care for your status!”

Spyglass suddenly became stoic as the door to the room clicked open, and Lady Jewel stepped into the room, the biggest emerald in her collection hanging from her neck on a dainty golden chain round her neck.

“I heard shouting, is something troubling either of you?” Despite asking, the blank look on her face gave away that she knew exactly just what had occurred.

“It was nothing, we’re finished” Mixy excused herself from the table and walked over to the doorway.

Spyglass didn’t bother looking after her “And remember to take an umbrella with you; it’s due to rain later”

Mixy wasn’t listening. She just left the room, seething with rage.


Sat alone in the kitchen, Tonnage was silently reading through the morning’s paper, nodding to himself at certain articles that he agreed with and managing a smirk at that day’s satire cartoon, as usual poking fun at Lord Spyglass, not that he would ever read anything less than The Times.

Thump.

Tonnage stopped reading, his ears standing to attention at the sound.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The noise was getting louder and nearer, but Tonnage couldn’t quite put his hoof on what it was, though the thump was clearly coming from somewhere inside the house as he could tell whatever it was was landing on the soft carpet. Tonnage gulped. He knew that he’d somewhat annoyed Sandy by stumbling in from the pub late the previous night and demanding to snuggle her in his slightly tipsy state, but she hadn’t quite made it clear if this was affecting her mood this morning. His brain began to work overtime. She had been clearly quite annoyed when she went to go and see what had become of Ostin, and it had gone mysteriously quite since she went upstairs.

She hadn’t…killed him, had she?

“SANDY!!!” Ostin’s cry quickly disproved that theory from his mind, with Tonnage also realising how ridiculous it sounded in his head.

The thumping noise ceased, only to be replaced with a noise that sounded somewhat like pyjamas being dragged along the carpeted hallway. Struggling and squirming in his blue striped pyjamas, Ostin was dragged into the kitchen by Sandy. She let go of her bite on his tail and reached for him with her forehooves, slipping them under his arms and picking him up, much like a small foal and carrying him to the chair at the kitchen table, using her magic to tuck his chair under the table. Ostin’s pouting and crossed forehooves made it clear he was unimpressed at being treated in such a manner.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Tonnage returned to his paper. Business as usual.


Time passed rather quickly that day in Colton-on-Sea, with the light grey clouds that had hovered over the town in the morning slowly giving way to much darker storm clouds. They came from out beyond the horizon out at sea and slowly encircled the town, the local weather ponies trying their best to try and keep the storm at bay for as long as possible, but they eventually had to admit defeat, allowing the storm to blanket the town, plunging it into semi-darkness, almost making it seem like night time.

Mixy pressed herself against the sandstone wall of the University, anticipating a rainfall, staring out into the empty carriage park. Parker was never late, or at the most only by a few minutes due to traffic, so the fact that he was nowhere to be seen was quite surprising to Mixy. She’d had a crummy day at university to say the least. The conversation she’d had with her father that morning had been playing on her mind, his words repeating over and over in her subconscious. It had affected her concentration on her artwork, and as a result almost all of the drawings she had produced ended up as crumpled scraps of paper in a bin.

She didn’t actually want to return home, but she knew that it wouldn’t bode well with her parents if she didn’t return. Her lack of knowledge of the world outside her house and the fact that her father had several contacts in Colton-on-Sea meant that she would probably be tracked down and returned to the house in a matter of hours. Mixy tried to calm herself by telling herself that at least there was no way the day could get worse.

A rather convenient thunder cloud proved her wrong.

Mixy cursed not bringing an umbrella with her to university.


Parker was in the drawing room of Lord Spyglass’ home, pouring tea for both his Lordship and his wife. Finishing pouring, he placed the china teapot back on the serving tray with his magic, looking out of the large glass windows at the rain that was beginning to hammer down on the lawn outside, waterlogging the grass and creating small pools of water.

“Excuse me, M’Lord” He turned to look at him “The young Mixed Media will have finished at the University for the day by now. Should I take the carriage to pick her up?”
“No” was Lord Spyglass’ blunt reply “Mixed Media wants to try and be independent, she can make her own way home”

Parker was shocked.

“That will be all Parker” Spyglass waved him away “You may go”

Parker wanted to speak out, but he also didn’t want to loose his job. Regaining his composure, he used a quick burst of magic to make the flames on the coal fire before them burn slightly hotter, then he silently left the room, closing the door after himself.

Lady Jewel turned to her husband “Do you really think it’s wise, making Mixed Media walk home through the pouring rain?”
“I think so” he replied “Hopefully it will make her come to appreciate everything we do for her by the time she eventually gets back”
“I suppose” Jewel went back to reading the her magazine “According to this report from earlier today this heavy rain is meant to last till some time tomorrow morning…”

Spyglass said nothing; he just stared deep into the flames of the fire.


Mixy had given up on waiting for the carriage at the University and had begun to wander alone in the streets. Lost amongst the tall three storey houses that lined the streets of Colton-on-Sea she had lost all sense of her bearings, no longer being able to tell which way lead to the hills above the town and which way lead down to the promenade. As she walked along she began to stare down at the puddles forming on the pavement beneath her feet, catching glimpses of her reflection as she passed over them. The face she would briefly see staring back at her was far different from the one she would normally see. The falling rain had caused her coat and mane to become drenched, resulting in almost all of the work she had done to make her mane curl near the tops of her ears to be washed away. The crimson bow that she wore just behind her left ear was also starting to become sodden and drooped down.

Crossing the cobbled road at the end of the street she was on, Mixy continued walking in the same direction, hoping that it was taking her closer to home. Presently she found herself in the square where the opera house resided. Although she knew the place itself very well from the amount of times she had visited it, she mentally couldn’t place where it was in relation to her parent’s house. One blessing though was the glass canopy at the front of the opera house. Although she knew full well that if the wind began to blow underneath it that there was a good chance it would offer her no protection against the rain, for the time being she knew that it would help to keep the worst of the rain off of her. She crossed over the square to stand underneath it.

With the rain no longer pouring down on her, she pulled her soaked mane out of the way of her eyes. She sat down on the cold stone steps that led up to the foyer entrance, leaning back against the stone wall and thinking about how the day had turned out. She began to think about the conversation she’d had with her father at breakfast. As much as she knew she should try and support her family, she knew that it wasn’t right that she should have no control over her life. She just wished that she had some means of breaking free from that lifestyle.

Hugging her knees against her chest, she began to cry.


Inside the Opera House in Quaver’s tiny office, Ostin was warming his hooves in front of the fire. Despite the building being constructed in an age when central heating wasn’t deemed an essential, it was surprising how warm and inviting the building was just from the small individual fireplaces and stoves located in the vast sea of offices and dressing rooms inside the building. Quaver was sat at his ornately carved desk, scribbling away with quill and ink at sheets of paper from a music score.

Quaver looked up “Ostin, could you file these music sheets for me please”

Ostin trotted over, clutching the papers with his teeth and taking them towards the large wooden bookcase on one wall of the office. They’d been working on the same project for the entire day, rewriting almost an entire score of music to a lower key to suit the lead singer, who it turned out was having far more trouble singing in tune than Quaver would have liked. Taking out one of the box files on the bottom shelf, Ostin opened up the heavy container and placed the score inside, taking extra care not to smudge the freshly scribed ink as he did so.

Setting down his quill, Quaver stretched his for aching forehooves and yawned as he sank back into his well worn office chair “Well Ostin, I think that was a good days work. Hopefully there should be no more complaints that the score is impossible to sing from the lead actor now”
Ostin replaced the box file on the shelf “I wouldn’t be too sure…”
“Don’t jinx it Ostin” Quaver chuckled “The last thing I want to do is to have to go back and rewrite all of that again!” He yawned again, clearly worn out “Well, I think it’s about time we were both heading off home. You can head off now if you want to, it shouldn’t take me too long to put out the fire and lock up the office”

Ostin started to make his way over to the hat stand by the door.

“But whatever you do, make sure Madame Tailor doesn’t catch you on your way out, you’ll never leave here otherwise” Quaver winked.

Ostin chuckled, slipping his saddlebag over the head and fastening the belt tight around the outside of his dark green sweater vest. Taylor seemed to have had her eyes on him all day, with Quaver joking earlier in the day that no doubt she would kidnap Ostin when he wasn’t looking and use him as a model for her costume making.

“Don’t worry” he replied, opening the door “I’ve got a tram to catch, I can’t be late”
“You’d best be going then. Goodnight Ostin”
“Goodnight”

Ostin closed the door behind himself as he left the room, taking a quick moment to let out a small sigh and shake some feeling back into his forehooves, they’d become slightly numb with being stood up for the majority of the day.

“Ostin!”

Ostin froze, closing his eyes tightly he prayed that the voice behind him didn’t belong to Tailor. Turning round and opening his eyelids to look, his worst fear was realised as he saw Madame Tailor walking towards him, busying herself as she tried to stick three pins into a small pincushion with her teeth before gently tucking it back into the apron that she wore.

“I haven’t seen you since you had your wittle accident on the stage” Tailor pinched his cheeks, much to Ostin’s annoyance “How is that little nose of yours?”
“Fine, thank you” Ostin was finding it pretty hard to speak without being able to move his cheek muscles “Can you let go of me please, I was just on my way home”
“But in this stormy weather?!” Tailor was being highly dramatic about the situation, letting go of Ostin’s cheeks and instead holding him tightly against her chest. He was quite surprised that she was a seamstress and not an actress “We can’t have that, you need an umbrella!”
“But I don’t have an umbrella” Ostin protested “And I’ve got to catch the last tram back home!”
“Nonsense” Taylor had clearly already made up her mind “There are plenty of umbrellas in the prop department that you can borrow on a night like this. As for the trams, I’ve never know them run on time!”

Ostin sighed heavily as he admitted defeat, with Tailor clutching him tightly under her foreleg as she took him to the prop store.


Down in the Servants quarters of Lord Spyglass’ house, Parker had just finished buttoning up his chauffer’s jacket and was in the process of tying his thickly layered cape round his neck with his forehooves. He grabbed his umbrella from his hat stand with his magic aura and brought it towards him, holding it in the air till he had a hoof free to grab it with. Having opened up one of the windows in the Butler's Pantry, he'd tied together a few spare bedsheets he'd borrowed from the laundry cupboard to make a rope, which he was now using as a means to climb down into the dry moat outside. He prepared to sneak out into the rain, suddenly becoming aware of the door knob to his room rattling behind him as someone fumbled with it. He began to panic, praying for the love of Celestia that his Lordship hadn't decided to make a rare trip to the downstairs sections of the house and burst in on his rescue attempt.

Parker froze in terror as the door opened. His career as a butler flashing before his eyes…

In walked the chef of the house, rather appropriately named Cook. Being roughly the same age as Parker, the main difference between herself and Parker was that whilst he still looked rather youthful, age had not been to kind to her. Her body was rather thin, with her elbow and knee joints being slightly more prominent under her pale ghostly blue coat. Her mane, once a brilliant chestnut colour, now featured several grey streaks from when the colour had already begun to fade away.

She stepped further into the room, her eyes closed as she talked away “Parker I was just wondering…” She stopped as soon as she saw him sitting legs astride the windowsill “Parker! Just what are you doing?!!”
Not wanting anyone in the rooms up above to hear, parker put a hoof to his lips “Shhh”
Cook crept closer, her voice lowered to almost a whisper “But what are you doing half out the window?”
Parker climbed back inside, pulling the window to to silence the rain “His Lordship has ordered that I’m not to pick his daughter up from the university. They had a bit of an argument this morning and I think this is his way of trying to get his point across”
Cook gasped “That poor young mare…”
“I know” Parker continued “And both you and I know that given how she’s always cooped up in this house she’d never be able to find way back here from the other side of town”
“But what’s this got to do with you piling up your furniture like this” Cook pointed at it, just to emphasise her point.
“I can’t be seen to be disobeying his Lordship’s orders, it’d get me fired! However, if I sneak out of the house this way, I can sneak along the bottom of the moat, climb out round the back of the house, attempt vault the fence and go and find the young Mixed Media and bring her back here, all under the nose of his Lordship, and anyone else who might see me if I was to simply walk out the tradesman's entrance”
Cook sighed “You always were one for adventure, weren’t you Parker”
“Yes, I suppose I was…” Parker stroked his chin “Maybe I should have taken a career as a pirate!”
Cook just facehoofed at that remark “Just be back in time for dinner”
“What are you cooking?”
“Stewed apples”
“Mmm” Parker was clearly visualising a plateful before him “My favourite”

Turning to look outside, Parker opened the thin window again and squeezed his way through out into the pouring rain, taking care not to forget to take his umbrella with him. All Cook could do was just shake her head as she made her way back to the kitchen. Taking one final look into his room before dropping down, Parker slid the bolt on the door closed. He wasn't taking any chances at anyone finding he wasn't home.


Ostin burst out of the stage doors at the side of the opera house, kicking off a white sock back into the building that was hanging loosely from one of his hind hooves. Tailor had certainly gotten carried away, trying to convince Ostin to at least try out one outfit that she was sure he would look the part in. Ostin had only just managed to get out of there, making a run for it when her back was turned.

He looked down the street towards the tram stop, just in time to see the ticket inspector stepping onto the rear platform and ringing the bell for the driver to set off. Of all the nights they could have chosen to actually run on time, it had to be this night! He knew there was no chance he would be able to catch up if he ran after it and silently cursed Madame Taylor for being the reason he missed it. However, he did have a rather large black umbrella thanks to her, so he was at least thankful that he wasn’t going to get drenched as he walked home in the pouring rain as he popped it open and held it up with a forehoof. He walked towards the front of the opera house, intending on finding where the tram tracks were amongst the mass of puddles in the cobbled street and simply following them back home, the streets were deserted enough for it in this weather.

Walking out onto the cobbled road, Ostin quickly found the tracks amongst rainwater, the light from the streetlights reflecting off of them and making them look like two parallel silver ribbons that stretched off into the distance. Not knowing how long it would take to walk home, Ostin put his free forehoof forward first, determined to get there as quickly as possible. His hoof splashed down into a puddle on the ground.

Then he stopped.

Very faintly, against the ambiance of the falling rain and thunder, he could hear something. It was hardly audible, but there was certainly something there, he just couldn’t pin point exactly where it was. It almost sounded like a mare sobbing. Ostin scanned his surroundings from underneath the umbrella, trying to pinpoint just who, or what, was the cause of the noise. It was very hard to make out what most things were behind the streaky lines of the falling rain. Then he saw her, huddled against the wall of the opera house underneath the glass canopy with her sadlebag, tucked up into a ball. He did wonder whether or not she was simply a homeless pony, trying to find the best means of shelter in such a heavy downpour, but he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t see any danger in at least asking if there was anything he could do.


Mixy wasn’t sure just how long she had been huddled in a ball crying,

“Hello?”

Mixy stopped sobbing, her hooves still covering her eyes. She remained quite still, silently hoping that whoever it was that was trying to make conversation with her would just go away, she didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“Hello?” the voice came again, this time accompanied with a hoof that rocked her slightly.

Mixy still didn’t want to talk. Just from her listening she could tell it was a stallion trying to talk to her, and a rather young one at that given how his voice was slightly higher pitched than an older stallion. She then a slight thump on the ground in front of her, which she assumed was the stallion sitting down on the ground. It seemed pretty clear to her that this stallion wasn’t going to leave her alone until she answered him. She lifted her head up from her knees. She didn’t care how she looked; she just wanted him to go away.

“Will you please just…” she stopped talking instantly.

There, sat before her for the second time that week, was Ostin. His trademark style of wearing a slightly unfashionable sweater vest and shirt combination was unmistakable, along with his grey coat and neatly combed yellow hair.

Mixy’s jaw dropped once again. Ten seconds ago she had wanted to punch him round the face for disturbing her, now she wasn’t sure how to react. She slowly leaned forward, squinting her eyes slightly to make sure she it wasn’t just her eyesight playing tricks on her. She waved a forehoof from side to side in front of Ostin’s face, slightly convinced that he was just a hallucination that would blow away in the breeze. It was only when Ostin reached out with one of his forehooves and grabbed hers to stop he waving so closely to his face that she became convinced that he was actually real.

“I believe we’ve already met?” Ostin asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn’t be too sure given how the rain had messed up her coat, but he was fairly certain it was the same mare.

Mixy just nodded. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“Do you need any help?”
“I’m trying to head towards the hills just outside the town, though I’m not to sure where I’m heading though” She wiped away the tears from her eyes.
“Well, you certainly picked the worst night for it” Ostin laughed.

Mixy just stared at him from her sitting position. Cearly Ostin didn’t actually know who she was. That didn’t bother her though; she quite liked somepony who didn’t judge her just because of what the rest of her family was like.

Ostin slowed down his laughing as he came to an awkward stop; clearly his sense of humour was still pretty awful “I can take you as far as the house I live at, it’s not that far from the edge of the town. You could stay there until the storm has passed over if you like?”
Mixy didn’t normally make a habit of going home with stallions only minutes after being properly introduced, but given that anything was better than her current situation, she was willing to make an exception “That would be nice”

Ostin extended a hoof, helping Mixy up onto all four before standing up himself. This took her quite by surprise, even all the upper class stallions her parents had introduced her too had never been this courteous, and he was even holding the umbrella for her.

“Are you ready?” Ostin asked “I might be quite a trek there”

Mixy just nodded. Despite hardly knowing Ostin, she felt safe with him. Walking side by side, with their bodies pretty much pressed up against each other side by side, they walked off into the rain.

Ostin looked towards Mixy “So you’re Mixed Media then, I take it?”
Mixy nodded “And you’re Ostinato, I take it?”
Ostin extended the forehoof he was using to hold up the umbrella towards Mixy, shaking the hoof that she lifted in return.


The two of them needn’t have worried about the walk back to Sandy and Tonnage’s house taking a long time, since it gave them both a chance to get their proper introductions to each other out of the way. Mixy seemed to be fascinated with Ostin recounting his life so far to the point when he moved to Colton-on-Sea, listening intently as Ostin talked away, finding the lifestyle of not having too much money and taking whatever he had for granted fascinating. The two were so engrossed in their life stories, laughing and joking with each other that they almost forgot to watch where the tramlines were heading along the road.

The highlight though of their journey for Mixy was when Ostin tried to demonstrate to her his love for music and how it could sometimes be more powerful than words, which came to a climax when he tried to copy a stunt from the musical ‘Neighing in the Rain’, swinging round on a lamppost by one of his forehooves whilst still holding the umbrella with his other forehoof. Unfortunately, he was forgetting just how slippery a metal lamppost could be in the rain, and ended up slipping right off it and into a deep puddle in the gutter. Despite making a total fool of himself, Ostin couldn’t stop laughing at the thought of how he must have looked to Mixy, who suddenly found herself uncontrollably laughing as well. Continuing on their way, the two of them found themselves unable to stop laughing, not just at Ostin, but also at previous times they’d come so close to meeting eachother, and the tiny little things that had stopped them from properly getting aquainted, such as Ostin falling flat on his face and the two of them mixing up their University I.D. cards, which they promptly swapped back with one another, Mixy finding Ostin’s technique of storing the card in his mane quite surprising. She’d never seen something like that before.

Soon though, their journey came to an end. Ostin stopped outside Sandy and Tonnage’s house, taking a deep breath to try and recompose himself. He hadn’t laughed that much in quite a long time.

“Well, this is it” he pointed up at the tall, slim terrace house.
“It’s…nice” were the only words that came to Mixy’s mind. She was trying to get around the fact that three ponies could live together in a house so small.
“Oh, it’s nothing compared to what you’re used to I expect”
“No, it’s nice” Mixy said “I’d more likely live in a small house that feels full than live in a big house with several empty rooms like I currently do”
“Well, maybe someday…” Ostin trailed off, suddenly realising he was thinking out loud.
Mixy looked straight at him “Go on…”
“No, it’s silly…” Ostin looked straight back at her.

An awkward silence ensued as the two of them stared straight at each other, save for the sound of the falling rain. A silence that seemed to last forever.

“Mixed Media?!” A rather familiar voice shouted from the end of the street, causing Mixy’s ears to stand to attention.

She craned her head round to see who it was shouting her name from behind her to see Parker stood at the end of the road, his cape dripping with rainwater given how long he had been walking around for. Mixy was happy to see him

“Who’s that?” Ostin asked “Your dad?”
Mixy gave him a playful shove “Pfft! Hardly, that’s his butler”

Secretly Ostin was impressed, assuming that Mixy’s family must be posh if they sent their butler out to look for their daughter, not knowing that Parker had come at his own accord.

“Well” Ostin paused “I guess this is it then, you’ve found a way back”
Mixy nodded slowly “I suppose so”
“Well, goodbye…Mixy”
“Goodbye… Ostin”

Mixy ran off towards Parker, the splashes she made in the puddles on the pavement flying out into the road given how much strength she was using to run along. She practically threw her forehooves around Parker.

“Good evening, M’Lady”
“How did you find me?”
“Well M’Lady, being from what your father would call the ‘lower classes’, I know a few ponies through the town. All I had to do was simply make a few enquiries till I could work out the general direction you were heading in. And with the streets being almost empty tonight it made it easier for other ponies to spot you” Parker looked behind Mixy, spying Ostin still stood out in the street under his umbrella “And who’s that, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“You remember that stallion I told you about a while back? That’s him”
“I see” Parker unfastened his cape from around his neck with his magic, levitating it round to Mixy and fastening the cords round her neck “And is he all you imagined?”
Mixy looked back at Ostin “Oh Parker, he’s such a sweet little stallion. He’s got far more manners than any colt my parents have introduced me to. I just feel like we said goodbye in a rather awkward way”
Parker sighed “M’Lady, forgive me for being so bold, but I can’t say I’ve ever heard you talk about somepony like this before, and it seems clear to me that you are starting to physically show certain…affections for this young stallion” He whispered in her ear “Go back to him and have a proper goodbye. I’ll wait, a few more minutes in the rain won’t exactly hurt me”

Mixy drew back, looking deep into Parker’s eyes. There was a small twinkle in them.

“You do have a soft soppy side to you, don’t you Parker?”

Parker just smiled.


Ostin couldn’t hear what was going on at the end of the road, but he could see both Mixy and Parker talking to each other. After a couple of minutes though, he decided that was most probably the end of his adventures for the day. He turned to walk up the steps to the front door of the house.

“Ostin!”

Ostin turned back around to see Mixy trotting towards him, a big beam on her face.

“Thank you. Seriously” Mixy smiled “You’ve made what was a terrible day end on a high note”

She leant in closer towards Ostin, with him moving his head backwards, unsure what to expect. On a totally random impulse she put a forehoof round the back of his neck and pulled Ostin back towards her, planting a kiss on the cheek, causing the young stallion to become very still, but with his cheeks turning a noticeable shade of red.

“Perhaps we could meet up again next time you’re at the University?” Mixy asked, untying the crimson bow from behind her ear.
“I…bu…wha?” Ostin was still in shock from being kissed, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a yes” Mixy smiled, throwing the untied strip of fabric behind Ostin’s neck, before tying the bow back up round Ostin’s neck, making sure it was tucked underneath his shirt collar, before turning round and heading back towards Parker “Good Night, Ostin!”

Ostin just stood there, frozen on the spot, watching continuously as Mixy trotted back towards Parker and bot of them walked off into the night. He did manage to wave goodbye slightly though with the forehoof he was using to hold up his umbrella, though it wasn’t very animated. As soon as they’d rounded the corner at the bottom of the street though he instantly found a spring in his step, leaping up the steps to the front door of the house three at a time and pretty much flinging himself through the doorway. He immediately folded up his umbrella and left it by the coat hanger at the doorway, shedding his saddlebag from his back as well. Noticing the doorway to the living room left open, he made his way inside.

Sandy was leant back against the cushions on the sofa, her glasses lying on a shelf at the side indicating that she’d been taking a short nap. Tonnage was sat on his usual two seat sofa reading the evening paper, once again making the large piece of furniture look like a regular sized armchair.

Stretching her limbs whilst remaining sat down, Sandy let out a rather unrefined yawn “And how was your day, Ostin?”

Ostin still couldn’t speak a single sentence, instead producing a stifled laughter as he climbed to sit on the sofa beside Sandy, a goofy smiling stretching across his face.

Tonnage looked across at Ostin, a quizzical look on his face, then at Sandy, finding no explanation there, he looked back at Ostin briefly before returning to his paper.

“Ostin?” Sandy leant forward, sniffing the air in front of him “Are you drunk?”

Again, all Ostin could do was make a vague sort of laughing noise.

Sandy pulled him closer to herself on the sofa, replacing her glasses upon the end of her nose and using them to inspect the soaked crimson bowtie that was now tied around the neck of his shirt, along with what looked like a faint lipstick mark on his cheek.

“Do you know Tonnage” She said “I believe our young Ostin is in love”

All Ostin could do was produce a series of indistinguishable gurgling noises in his lovesick state as Sandy gently stroked his mane.