I bet you didn't know I'm a violin player, too.
Admiral Biscuit
The two mares were walking side-by-side, on their way home from a dinner out, when they saw the pegasus filly slumped on the street, and open violin case next to her. She was dejectedly looking at the instrument, plucking a hoof across the strings.
“She's got a cutie mark like yours,” Octavia whispered, before trotting over to see what was the matter. “Why the long face?”
The pegasus' sniffles stopped as she spotted Octavia, with Vinyl Scratch just behind her. Her eyes lit up and she wiped the tears off her cheek with a fetlock before speaking. “I just bought this violin and it sounds terrible. I can't make it work at all.”
“Well, we'll just see about that. Vinyl, if you would help me?”
The unicorn nodded and reverently lifted the instrument out of its case. She stood on her hind legs before necking the violin just under her cheek, brought up the bow, and drew it lightly across the strings. A discordant shriek which sounded much like a cat being stepped on pinned three pairs of ears back.
“Out of tune,” Octavia muttered. “Way out of tune.” She turned to the pegasus filly. “What's your name?”
“Medley.”
“That's a good name,” Octavia remarked. “Okay, first, you have to tune it. See these little knobs here?”
The pegasus nodded.
“That's how you tune it. You can do it by hoof, or maybe you can use your wing.”
Vinyl sat down, so that the little pegasus could see what Octavia was doing more clearly. As she made adjustments, the unicorn would occasionally draw the bow across a string, letting the filly hear the tuning process.
“It's a good violin. A Hoofner. It's just been neglected.” Once she was satisfied with her adjustments, she nodded her head at Vinyl, who drew the bow slowly across the strings, this time producing a pleasant tone.
“See?”
The filly nodded eagerly.
“Do you mind if Vinyl tries it out?”
Medley gave the unicorn a skeptical look. “She's not going to smash it on the ground when she's done, is she? My friend told me that she saw a concert one time where the guitar player did that.”
“She's very careful with string instruments,” Octavia reassured her. “Go ahead, Vinyl. See what it can do.”
Vinyl nodded and set her dark glasses inside the empty instrument case, then stood back on her hind hooves. She once again placed the violin under her cheek, making minor adjustments until it sat just right, before closing her eyes.
Twice, she drew the bow across the strings, slowly and experimentally, while her left hoof rested lightly on the neck of the instrument. Unseen by her, ponies had begun to notice the little gathering and were stopping to watch.
Is she—Octavia knew that stance. She knew the shift of the hip, the tail set just so; that had been Vinyl's position during her final exam. It was like going back in time, away from the streets of Ponyville and into the hushed auditorium of the conservatory. She dared not breathe as the bow twitched and then descended on the strings, its movement sure and steady.
The violin sang. Ponies watched, mouths agape, as Vinyl Scratch performed. Too soon, the song was over, and the observers stood in complete silence as she put her shades back on, gently placed the violin back in its case, and nuzzled Medley's head. Then the crowd erupted in cheers and hoofstomps, much to the embarrassment of the little filly.
“Come over,” Octavia invited once the noise had died down. “Vinyl can teach you how to play like that.” Then the two of them continued their interrupted journey home.
As they rounded the corner, Octavia leaned over to Vinyl. “Caprice Number 4 in C Minor? Really?”
Vinyl shrugged innocently.
“Show off.”