The Things Tavi Says

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Joyous Things

I open the door to our home, and immediately I am awash in orange mirth.

Something soft and fuzzy rubs against my fetlocks. The softest and the fuzziest.

Blinking, I look down. I smile. Squatting low, I nuzzle the kitten back, enjoying the ticklish brush of her whiskers against my muzzle. However, the front door is wide open, and part of me remembers that this little critter is a frisky rascal in disguise. So, I lift her up in a telekinetic hug and shut the door behind me with a hoof. I cradle Scribbler while dragging my equipment to my side of the foyer.

Placing the cat down atop a speaker, I pat it on the head a few times, then unload my instruments. By the time I have everything set up, Scribbler has hopped to the floor and resumed her desperate, circling meows. Curious, I shuffle into the kitchen, being followed swiftly by the little fuzzball. Her food dish is half-full. With a knowing glare, I turn towards the far end of the apartment, craning a twitching ear.

Octavia's aura is faint, slowly undulating in violet motions. The mare is far too ladylike to snore, but her purple breaths echo like the hum of mountains. No doubt she's been sleeping half the day away without me being here to keep things loud and hopping.

With a breathy chuckle of magenta breaths, I cross the kitchen floor, open the pantry, and pull out a bag of hard kitten treats. I give Scribbler a sample or two, as well as a new bowl of fresh water. Tavi can take care of the rest later.

To my frustration, Scribbler leaves the water bowl un-licked. She continues to brush up against my leg, practically blinding me with orange froth. I sigh, lift her off her paws, then plant her on my backside. Satisfied with her new pedestal, she sits atop my flank as I shuffle about the apartment, cleaning up things and getting re-settled.

At last, I pick up the royally sealed envelope that I found upon arriving. With a delightful smile, I approach the door to Tavi's room and prepare to knock on it.

And that is when I stop in my place altogether.

I gaze at Twilight Sparkle's royal seal. I then look at the doorknob to Octavia's room.

I linger in silence, slowly wading in the green hum of Ponyville and beyond.

Slowly, a playful smile crosses my lips.

I swiftly place Scribbler on the floor. She protests in auburn octaves, but I don't stick around for long. Rushing back to my equipment, I switch the machine on and set up a fresh new tape. Testing a microphone with a few hoof-taps, I prepare the apparatus for recording, then switch it back into demo mode. I throw on a record and play a soothing trance track at half-volume. The apartment swims in a swirling paint bucket of delicious noise, the signature of my arrival.

Octavia's eyes don't sense a thing, of course, but the musician's ears don't deceive her either. I sense a jolting vibration as it ripples through the purple aura, and it turns a sharp violet. She is awaking.

Even Tavi's grumbles are sickly sweet in her own way. Sometime, I should tell her about them. But that's not for now.

Seconds pass. Minutes. There's not a day when Octavia wakes up without brushing her mane at least fifty strokes. She knows I'm home as much as I know she's awake.

I feel my heart pumping as the door opens with a rattling red shudder. She steps out, and the only thing drooping on her is her eyelids. She teeters in the doorway, straightening a bow tie.

"Good afternoon, Vine," she murmurs, her voice a dull, drowsy indigo. "Nice to see you've made it safely home. But—honestly—has inspiration struck so terribly that you must play your synthesized melody at such a hair-raising volume?"

I smile and say nothing. My goggles glint in the afternoon light, reflecting the purple back at her.

"Eh... no matter. My dreams were rather dull anyways." Scribbler rubs up against her, and she shivers slightly, looking down. "Which is the same that can be said of just about everything else around—" Her eyes lock into place and her muzzle drops.

That's how I know she's seen the envelope that I left lying at her bedroom door. Scribbler steps over it a few times on clumsy paws, and yet still the mare is gawking. I sense the green in the air shifting. She's preparing to inhale... deeply.

With expert timing, I slap the switch on my microphone. I pivot it across the room towards her while lowering the volume of the trance track that I've been pretending to tweak.

And that's when Octavia explodes.

She explodes. Brilliant, violet fireworks. Chirping like songbirds during a Princess Coronation.

"It's here! It's here!" She hits high notes that only few angels can. "Oh Vine! Vine! Vine!" Her bowtie flounces with each foalish bounce. I didn't even know that was possible until now. I feel like giggling, but that would knock me over, and I don't want to risk missing this moment, this mania. "It's actually here! And it's from the Princess! Do you know what this means?"

I shake my head with a stupid smile. In my peripheral vision, I see the audio input bars fluctuating from the melodic frequency. I turn a knob or two right as Octavia trots closer.

"Okay... okay..." She takes a few deep breaths, and the bright violets drop down to mellow purples. She calms herself, putting on normal airs, which I can tell from the rippling reverberations is taking all of her well-mannered strength. "We mustn't... m-mustn't jump to conclusions. It could mean anything. A postponement. A rejection, even. After all... it wouldn't be the first time." She takes several deep breaths, fiddles with the envelope, then fiddles some more. A rosiness spreads across her cheeks, and she glances up at me with a deep indigo—both her eyes and her voice. "Vinyl... erm... if y-you wouldn't mind."

I nod politely, encasing a nearby letter opener with magic. I float the thing over while Scribbler watches innocently, his slitted eyes darting from afar. At last, the envelope is slashed open in the center of us girls. With a nervous jolt, Octavia yanks the royal parchment out. Her eyes roll and tumble across the page.

I lean my head to the side, anxious, curious. I turn the knobs again, pivoting the mic to face her. As the seconds limp by, I fear the worse. But that's when a second pur of bright orange fountains across the room, and the manner in which is morphs into burning violet almost sends me for a loop.

"Eeeeeeeeee!" Octavia's tone intensifies internally like an uncontrolled sarosian. She twirls once, twice, then faces me while her mane struggles to catch up. "I can't believe it, Vinyl! I just simply can't believe it!" She practically shoves the parchment in my face. I can't read the words quickly enough, but it doesn't matter. They're rolling out of my roommate's muzzle like flower petals on river rapids. "'Ms. Melody and Ms. Scratch are both cordially invited to the Royal Palace of the Princess of Friendship to audition for the roles of Castle Musicians!' Vinyl! An explosion of purple, and I am awash in the succulent sea. "Do you know what this means?! We're just one last step away from being actual royal minstrels!" She hugs the letter to her chest, spilling all over with violet satin. "Oh... to think that we can perform for ambassadors and dignitaries from all over Equestria and beyond! And, on top of that, we can earn the status as Princess Twilight's very own personal musicians! Eee-hee-hee!" She gasps, tossing her mane, her voice, her soul. "Celestia forgive me! I take back every insufferably trite thing I've ever said about the wedding we performed at! Because that had to have been how we were noticed to begin with! Don't you agree, Vinyl?"

I smile, nodding. I glance at my instrument, and the notes being captured are some of the most beautiful samples ever.

"This... this is... oh my..." Octavia fans herself, her gaze suddenly as crooked as her bowtie. "I... I-I do believe I am feeling faint!" She plops down on the sofa, her right rear leg twitching every two seconds or so, like a fuzzy gray puppy's. "All this excitement... all of this sudden incomprehensible opportunity! I-I mean... I had hope, Vinyl, but I never thought... never thought..." She glances at the letter again, and something inside her catches aflame once more. "Phweeee!" She hugs the parchment tight, smiling my way, eyes sparkling. "Oh Vinyl! I'm so insensitive! You must be absolutely beside yourself with joy too!"

I shrug.

"Oh, don't be so modest! You've seen me lose my nobler qualities. Certainly you could afford a little frothing at the muzzle as well!" She hears a mewling creature down below, and she hoists Scribbler up high, leaning forward to rub noses with the blinking thing. "Hmmmm... life is certainly most sweet when it desires to be." A gasp, and she explodes once again with delicious color. "I know! We should celebrate! Let's invite Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon over for a—" Her pupils shrink. "Oh, Goddess, no! Lyra sent in an application as well, yes? This might come across as shoving our invitation in her face. No, that wouldn't quite do. Uhm... Sugarcube Corner? Guh! No. I couldn't stand cupcakes right now. I would positively explode."

I wave at her. Once she looks my way, I charade a bottle being poured down my gullet.

"Oh ho ho ho ho Vinyl." She pets Scribbler and puts the cat down before reclining gracefully on the sofa. "Please..."

I smile, finally switching the instrument off.

She rolls her eyes and says, "As if I'm always looking for an excuse to pop open a bottle of Equestria's finest red wine..."