//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 - Blooming Buds // Story: Pretence // by Kapuchu //------------------------------// “So what do you think of her?” Lyra asked, fixing Vinyl Scratch with a knowing smile. They had just placed their orders for their lunch, and now sat on either side of a table in the middle of the establishment. The building itself was a half circle, the counter in the middle being a half circle itself, making the seating area a crescent shape. On either side of the counter was a door from where waiters went out with platters of food, or in with empty plates. Mahogany furniture dominated the restaurant; dark, wooden tables and chairs—a few tables with only cushions—were spread out interspersedly. There was a pleasant amount of background noise, just enough to mask their own conversation from other patrons, but low enough that it didn’t require them to speak louder than they usually would. It was, in all, a pleasant place to be; the numerous smells of dozens of different dishes included. Vinyl leaned back in her chair, having allowed Lyra to convince her to take off her shades and now sat without them. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she sought the blue-painted ceiling above them for answers. She had expected the question to come sooner or later. That’s just how Lyra was; a tease. Either that or she saw something that Vinyl wasn’t quite sure even existed. “I don’t know,” she murmured, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “She’s nice, pretty, and quite sweet, if that’s what you’re asking.” She turned her gaze down to the mint green unicorn in front of her, giving her a sour look. Lyra sat with her head rested on her hooves, giving Vinyl a half-lidded look that spoke of lies being seen through. Or, at the very least, half-truths being spotted for what they were. “Are you sure that’s all?” She asked. “You could barely take your eyes off of her during the entire concert.” Sighing in resignation, Vinyl rubbed her eyes. “Alright, alright.” She groaned. “She’s not just pretty, but beautiful. She’s not arrogant or stuck-up like most ponies in this Luna-damned city, but actually seems to treat others with respect, aside from—” she stopped, her brows furrowing in thought. She said nothing for the longest time, staring off into space. In the meantime the waiter came with their respective dishes and left again. “What is it, Vinyl?” Lyra asked, picking up the utensils in her magic. “Have you noticed how she sometimes acts around pegasi, or even earth ponies?” She picked up her own fork and knife, and slowly started to eat, gears turning furiously in her head. At once Lyra’s face become contemplative, thinking back to the few times she’d been with Octavia recently, and back to their university times. The more memories she dug up, the more confused to seemed to get. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. I mean, there was that one guy during the concert earlier that she never looked at?” She paused, revelation slowly dawning on her. “You remember that fat stallion who sat down beside her? I almost swear I saw her wince.” Vinyl nodded gravely. “I saw that too. She certainly didn’t look very happy, and never looked his way.” Her lips pursed. “I mean, she’s an earth pony herself, so why should she have trouble with other earth ponies? And there’s no problem with unicorns? Not that I’ve seen, at least. I mean, we’re both spiral heads, and she seems fine with us.” “That, dear Vinyl, is because she’s crushing on you, and I’m just that charismatic.” Vinyl shot Lyra a sour look, to which she responded with, “I jest, Vinyl… Mostly. But I don’t think she has any problems with unicorns. Just earth ponies and pegasi.” “And that’s what worries me.” She spun her fork in the pasta and lifted it to her mouth, chewing. “And before you say anything, I know, ‘I don’t know her very well’, but I still worry,” she said, swallowing and then continued. “If you want me to admit it, then I will; I like Octavia. Still only a bit of a crush, but it’s there—” she met Lyra’s grin with an almost exasperated look “—and you don’t have to say ‘I called it’. I know you did already.” Lyra giggled shortly, but said nothing more, prompting Vinyl the continue. “Anyway, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with unicorns as you say, but that only makes me question why. I mean, what could make somepony feel uncomfortable about two thirds of the entire population? It makes me shudder just to think about it.” Lyra nodded gravely, busying herself with her own food of roasted vegetables spiced with a variety of exotic spices. “I can see what you mean. I haven’t known her well for longer than you have, only really sharing a passing greeting when we met back at the university, but aside from that I’ve been her friend only for as long as you have. And even then… I can’t help but want to know why she’s the way she is, and… I want to help somehow.” She sighed and took another bite, scowling at how little food there seemed to be. It seemed that expensive restaurants like this one thought that the less there was on the plate, the more it should cost. The next half hour passed, the two of them finishing their meals and then ordering desserts comprised of a bowl of ice cream for Lyra, and a slice of cheesecake for Vinyl. Both of these were devoured in short order, satisfied sighs following the last bite of each. They called the waiter in short order, Vinyl paying for their lunch before Lyra could object, a small purse rattling with coins flashing into existence on the table. The waiter took it, thanking them both and left with their empty plates and bowls in tow. Behind him Vinyl had a hoof to her forehead right underneath her horn, groaning. “Oow. Shouldn’t have done that.” Lyra just smirked. “Too much magic today?” She asked. “Well what do you think?” She groaned again, rubbing her temples. “It’s not easy being me.” She said nothing for a while, clearing her headache and dizziness first. Once past, she gazed out the window, contemplating. “Hey, Lyra, do you know where Octavia lives? I’d… like to visit her, see if she’s alright and all.” “As well as being together with her, alone?” The mint-green unicorn teased, though dropped it almost immediately. “Teasing aside, I don’t know her exact address, although I know in what neighbourhood she lives… more or less, at least.” Vinyl shrugged, standing up from the chair. “It’s better than nothing. Perhaps I’m lucky and she’s out and about.” “It’s worth a shot,” Lyra said, picking up Vinyl’s shades and putting them on her nose before the other mare could do anything. She then headed towards the door, motioning for Vinyl to follow. Once outside she pointed down the street, towards where they’d come from earlier. “The theatre we were at is that way. If you go down there it’s about half an hour walk from there. Do you know the Jumping Records shop?” Vinyl nodded. “Right, follow along the road where that one’s on, and it’s a block down or so. You’ll find Octavia in the apartment complex there, surrounding by row houses. I can’t tell you exactly how far, but the street she lives on is somewhere along the same road as Jumping Records.” “I think I know the place. Thanks.” She turned to Lyra, giving the smaller mare a hug. “Thanks, Lyra. Hoping I’ll find her then. I’ll see you soon.” “You too, Vinny. See ya!” Lyra waved as Vinyl started down the walkway at a canter, a certain spring in her steps. The mint green unicorn couldn’t quite help a smile at that. “I hope it works out for you two. Goddesses knows you could use a fillyfriend.” She chuckled and headed the other way, intent on reading a bit once she got home. Vinyl scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Told you to stop calling me that five years ago.” The sun was well past its zenith as Vinyl trudged along the cobbled streets, hooves clopping with each step, only adding to the massive choir that was the Canterlot streets in the mid afternoon. It had been three quarters of an hour since she had left the restaurant where she and Lyra had their lunch, the time since then having been spent playing melodies in her head, violin and not. She had cast her mind back to when she and Octavia had had their first recording session just two days prior, and how Octavia had sounded then. A faint smile found its way to her lips, not only because of the memory of the cellist, but because of the way she played. She’d seen a lot of different cello players in her time as a musician and DJ. She played in a way that was, at once, both according to what the composer had in mind, but she also added her own flair to it; making it a piece that was her own in a way that couldn’t so much be described as heard. I don’t even think Heart Strings can play quite like that, she mused, pursing her lips. Heart Strings was good, certainly, but there was just something about Octavia. As if she enjoyed playing more than any other she had ever heard play. A smile came unbidden to her lips as her memory turned towards Pachelbel’s canon, the piece Octavia had played for her in the studio. The melody, exactly as the cellist had played it, repeated in her mind as she continued down the streets, finding Jumpin’ Records soon after. She stopped and looked around, dozen of ponies of all ages and colours were all around her, going about their business. Lyra had told her that Octavia’s home would be around here, or somewhere a little further down the road. But where exactly? No divine intervention came to help her find the way, however, so she trudged on, head turning this way and that way in the hopes of spotting Octavia, or at least something that could lead her to her. As luck would have it, the very pony she was looking for almost walked into her, Octavia stopping just short of crashing into Vinyl, a hoof on the other’s shoulder to stop her in her tracks. She carried a pair of saddlebags brimming with groceries, everything from salad to cheese filling the bags. She was pulled to the side of the street by Octavia, gently guided by her hoof. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, removing her hoof from Vinyl’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” “I was on my way to visit you,” she admitted, seeing no sense in hiding it. “But you don’t even know where I live,” Octavia commented with an amused smile. “Which is exactly why I was looking for you right now! Anyway, I wanted to visit you, see how you were doing and all that.” She sidled up besides Octavia, silently requesting that she continue walking so she could follow. “I hope you don’t mind a visit.” “Of course not.” She started walking the way Vinyl had come from, gesturing with her head for her to follow. Nothing is said between them for the first few minutes, both of them staying silent. Until Vinyl caught Octavia glancing at her out the corner of her eye. “What’re you looking at?” Vinyl asked, letting just the tiniest smirk tug at the corner of her lips. “Nothing,” Octavia hastily replied. “I was just wondering why you wanted to visit me, is all. I don’t have an awful lot of friends that regularly visit me.” Vinyl kicked a pebble along the sidewalk, watching it bounce before coming to a stop on the edge of it, balancing precariously before tipping onto the street. “Well,” she began, kicking another pebble out onto the street, “I just wanted to see how you were, maybe spend a bit of time together. And I wanted to ask you something.” Octavia glanced her way again, cocking her head in a silent enquiry. “I just noticed that you… No.” Vinyl shook her head, banishing the thoughts. “Nevermind.” A look of perplexion passed over the cellist’s face, her lavender eyes scouring Vinyl’s face for any tell of what she might have wanted to ask. She didn’t find any clues. “If you say so,” she said, shrugging. They continued on, coming to a stop before a large apartment block. Octavia unlocked the door and headed inside with Vinyl at her heels. “Second floor,” she commented and started heading up the stairs. Octavia’s apartment was a rather simple affair, though still rather sizeable. From the door you entered a small hallway, three doors on the left side, one on the right, and a final one at the end of the hallway. Octavia headed into the first on their left, which turned out to be a kitchen and went about putting away the groceries. “Nice place,” Vinyl said, glancing about and slowly walking further in. Two pictures hung on the right wall, one of a younger Octavia with her cello—Aw. She’s adorable—and a second one of a seapony on top of a boulder in the middle of the ocean. Continuing down the hallway she came upon the door on the right side, seeing that it lead into the livingroom. It was spacious, with a dining table and four chairs standing in the far left corner, by the windows which gave a clear outlook over the streets below. A series of bookcases lined the wall to the left of the door, filled to the brim with tomes both old and new, as well as several folders of sheet music. On the right side was a fireplace with two chairs and a small bar cupboard in between. Finally, her eyes were drawn to a small coffee table in the far right corner, with two sofas on either side fit for two ponies each. “I reiterate, nice place,” Vinyl said as Octavia came in behind her, standing side by side with the unicorn. “But I’ve gotta ask—” she pointed at the fireplace “—what’s up with that? Where does the smoke go?” “First of all, thanks. I like my place too. Second of all, there’s a series of pipes running through the walls that gathers up the smoke from what few apartments actually have a fireplace, and leads it to a larger pipe that ends in a chimney on the roof. There’s a hole in the top of the fireplace, if you wanna look.” “I like my white coat, thank you for the offer, though.” She glanced behind her out into the hallway. “Say, where’s the toilet and such?” “The toilet’s the one here at the end of the hall. Right in front of us—” Octavia pointed at the door directly opposite to the living room “—is my bedroom, and the last one is where I practice.” “I only asked about the bathroom, but thanks nonetheless.” Octavia smiled understandingly. “I know, but I figured I might as well tell you so you didn’t accidentally walk into my bedroom.” Vinyl nodded. “Gotcha.” Looking down the hallway, her eyes fell upon the door to the practice room. “Say, our last session got cut short. Do you think you’d want to play a bit for me? But only if you want to, of course.” The cellist seemed pensive for a moment, but that expression was soon replaced by a warmer one; kind and welcoming. “I don’t see why not. I’m afraid I don’t have a set of instruments you’ll want to play, however.” She started for the room, pushing open the door and heading inside. Inside was a small number of instruments: A cello, a piano, a large harp and a violin. “Violin, huh?” Vinyl walked up to it, looking it over. The craftsmanship was good; the wood was polished to perfection, and every string was taut and tuned as they should be. She looked over her shoulder, meeting Octavia’s amethyst eyes. “I didn’t peg you for someone to play the violin,” she said, turning back to the violin to keep the blush on her cheeks from showing. Goddesses, those eyes. It’s not fair. “Well, I don’t, really. I don’t think it’s much of a surprise that I’m quite the fan of Melodia, so I bought a violin to try to learn how to play it.” She walked up besides Vinyl—close enough to touch, Vinyl noted—and looked upon the instrument fondly. “I can play it a little bit, but not so much. We’re talking a handful of children’s songs, but that’s about it. What about you? Do you think you can play it?” The question was accompanied by a playful nudge. Vinyl, rather than verbally retort, stuck her tongue out at Octavia, prompting a short giggle. “I can play a… little bit of violin. It helps to know how to play different instruments when mixing together songs.” She cleared her throat and turned to the piano. “And what about this one? You can play that one, too?” Octavia shook her head. “Can’t say I do. I’ve been meaning to start practicing, but I haven’t been able to pull myself together and start.” She nodded towards her cello, walking over to it. She opened it carefully, pulling out the marvel of polished, black wood and string. “This, however, is where I shine.” She turned back to Vinyl, rearing up on her hind legs after picking up the bow. Vinyl silently watched her, eyes focusing on the gentle pull of the bow, the flex of her foreleg with each movement the cellist made. She hadn’t quite noticed before, but every bit of Octavia’s body was as well kept as anyone she’d ever seen. Every muscle shifting subtly beneath the skin, was the result of years of hard training. She let her gaze fall, admiring the curves and contours of Octavia’s body, thankful for her shades masking her staring. I knew earth ponies were supposed to be strong and all, but she looks far more fit than anyone I’ve ever seen. Not buff, but… Okay, careful Girl, don’t start drooling. She shook her head, forcefully dislodging and shoving away thoughts that had no place in polite society. “You look good,” she said, then, earning a raised eyebrow from Octavia—not as if offended, but in a silent enquiry. Vinyl hurried to elaborate; “Poise, grace, and power. You look dignified like that; on two legs, bow held on your fetlock. Forgive me for saying so, ‘Tavi, but you look pretty damn good like that.” The corner of her lips pulled into a teasing smile. “I think even Melodia would be impressed by that.” Blinking, Octavia soon let herself smile. “Thank you, Vinyl, but flattery will get you nowhere.” She chuckled and put the bow to the strings, drawing a single note from it. She looked up from the strings at Vinyl. “You can sit on the piano stool if you want. You wanted me to play for you, right?” “Right,” she muttered, pulling the stool into the middle of the room. “What do you want to play?” Vinyl asked. A momentary look of perplexion washed over Octavia, her nose scrunching up and her brows furrowing. “I don’t know.” She looked down at Vinyl. “Just something? I believe you call it ‘Jamming’ or something along those lines. I just play, sometimes. It’s a good way to get the thoughts flowing.” “I getcha,” Vinyl replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Just play whatever the heck you want just for the hell of it.” She once more placed the bow upon the strings, testing them with a single, slow note. She nodded in satisfaction and pulled the first note, a quiet one, and then started playing whatever came to mind. It was with slow, mellow, tunes that she started the piece, alternating between different low notes. It started formless, simple notes being played one after another, but slowly they started to form together to a slow melody. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before, Vinyl decided. Nor seen for that matter. Her eyes seemed glued to Octavia as she swayed with every note she drew with her bow. She thought it told a story, one made up at the same time as the music itself. She had always been good at visualising music; having scenarios, pictures, places, appear in her mind’s eye as she listened or played. This time she saw flashes of great expanses of land, armies marching, and snow falling. Dragons and gryphons flew overhead, unicorn magi squaring off against each other. She found herself smiling, letting the images flash by as they came, paying no particular heed to any one of them, and simply let them come and go as they pleased. And all the while she never once removed her gaze from Octavia, her eyes fixed on that serene expression that had fallen over her face. The Zone, I believe they call it, Vinyl thought, starting to sway in tandem. I know it all too well. For the longest time she sat there, watching Octavia as she played, going through impromptu piece after piece. No two were alike, and none already existing. It all melded together in a long string of delightful music that let the both of them forget that such a thing as time existed. All of three hours had passed before Octavia moved the bow from the strings, opening her eyes for the first time since she had begun. She let out a breath, wiping her fringes out of her eyes with her right hoof. When she looked at Vinyl, she was met with a round of applause as loud as a single mare could make it, the sound of Vinyl’s stomping hooves filling the room. “I take it you liked it?” Octavia asked, sounding exhausted. Vinyl couldn’t blame her. Even she didn’t practice for this long without breaks, her hindlegs would get sore. “I did,” she replied almost instantly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone play uninterrupted like that for so long, without a single break or even a stutter. I mean, all of it was improvised! And not a single pause or anything!” Octavia beamed at the praise, making to put the cello back in its case. Vinyl closed the lid for her, using the time it took for Octavia to lock it to sidle up against her, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll be a star one day,” she assured the cellist. “I can feel it, ‘in me old bones’ and all that.” “I hope so, at least,” Octavia said, nodding. “Becoming a permanent member of the Canterlot Symphony rather than a stand-in member because their cellist got sick. Don’t get me wrong, it was a great opportunity to play there, and it gave my group and I a fair bit of publicity, but I would much rather have a seat among them on a more personal basis.” “I getcha. So that’s why you were there. Thinking about it, I did wonder where I’d seen you when we first met.” “You were at the Gala?” The expression on Octavia’s face was one of mild bewilderment, which turned into a teasing smile. She withdrew from Vinyl’s side-hug and stood so they were face-to-face. “You, of all ponies, were at the Gala?” Vinyl, too, adopted a puzzled look, cocking her head. “Yeah? Of course I was. I mean, it’s not that difficult to get a ticket.” She was met with a playfully deadpan look. “Okay… maybe it is a bit difficult. But you remember how I said I knew Rarity?” Octavia nodded. “Well, she’s not the only contact I have among the more… prestigious ponies, if you will.” “Such as?” The cellist pried, smirking. If one were to judge by her facial expression, it seemed as if she didn’t quite believe it. “The—uuh—De Lis family. Fleur De Lis, especially.” “The De Lis family?” Vinyl nodded. “I’ll admit, I hadn’t seen that one coming. Still, though, how? I don’t mean offense, but you’re just a DJ. How do you know these ponies?” “I’d rather not say. Rarity I know because we met long ago when we were just fillies. Became pen pals when she and her parents moved to Ponyville. The De Lis family…” Her lips drew into a thing line. “Business secret?” Octavia supplied. “Business secret. Let’s say it just sort of happened, a long time ago.” She shrugged, seeming satisfied then, much to Vinyl’s relief. “I won’t pry then. Promise. Also, do you want something to eat? It’s only around four, but we could grab an early dinner if you want.” “I’m good,” Vinyl said. “I’m not quite hungry yet, at least. Maybe in a bit? Unless, of course, you really want something to eat. They do say earth ponies have really large appetites and all that.” She added the last part with a fair amount of good humour sprinkled over her words. A pained expression flashed across Octavia’s face, gone as quickly as it had come. She quickly recovered and rolled her eyes. “Oh hardy har har. I’m not so sure that they have a much larger appetite than pegasi or unicorns.” “How do you know?” Vinyl continued unabated. “I’m looking at the evidence of it,” she shot back, poking Vinyl’s flank with a hoof. “If the size of this is of any indication, I dare say you unicorns have quite the appetite, too.” Huffing, Vinyl spun away with an expression of mock anger. “Hey, I just have wide hips. Ain’t nothing bad about that on a filly.” “I won’t disagree with you on that,” Octavia conceded with a brief chuckle. “Anyways, let’s go to the living room. At least there we can both sit down.” “Right behind ya.” Vinyl issued a sharp salute, following Octavia into the living room and onto the sofa, taking a seat. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Octavia started, sitting down besides Vinyl. “People say there’s something special about your shows. Different, even, than others. What exactly is it? I will admit to not have had a whole lot of interest before meeting you, but now that I’ve known gotten to know you a bit I’ve gotten a little bit curious.” Vinyl chuckled, prompting a perplexed look from Octavia. “What?” “Nothing. It’s nothing. I just didn’t peg you for someone who even knew anything about club music, much less about what I did on my shows.” “Well I do,” she huffed, crossing her front legs across her chest. Her pretence at being offended cracked soon after, in part due to Vinyl’s playful smile. She sighed, shaking her head as the beginning of a smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll be nice, I promise. But, well, the thing I suppose is different with my shows is that I do the lightwork myself. You know, the spotlight, lasers, all that stuff.” “So you’re both the light technician and the DJ?” Vinyl scratched her head, thinking of a way to explain it easily. “Well, yes and no. I do the DJ’ing and stuff, but I’m not a light technician. I don’t actually use normal lights and such. I use magic—illusory magic, actually. Coloured light rays like lasers and such are easy to make, and a spotlight isn’t much different. Just larger and without the fancy colours.” Octavia sat cross-eyed, evidently thinking deeply on the new information given to her. “So you’re a… light-mancer?” She asked, seeming uncertain about the term if her expression was anything to go by. “Not quite. I’m an Illusionist. It’s what I’m best at, even if I’m also able to use other schools of magic. We do use light to make our illusions, however.” She lit her horn, about to cast a spell, when she winced, pain shooting through her horn. “What’s wrong?” Octavia’s voice cut through the pain, prompting Vinyl to look up as the pain abated. “Horn hurts. I’ve used too much magic lately.” She sat back up straight, forcing away the last vestiges of pain. “Don’t worry about it. I wanted to show you a little illusion as an example, but I was a dummy.” She smiled sheepishly. “So yeah, I’m alright.” “If you say so.” Despite Vinyl’s reassurances, she didn’t seem entirely convinced. The concerned look in her eyes stayed put for a short while, but disappeared once no more winces came from the DJ. Vinyl opened her mouth to say something, but was preempted by a growling sound. Understanding as to where it had come from dawned upon her when she met the eyes of an embarrassed Octavia. “Hungry?” She asked. “I guess I am now.” She glanced at the clock she had hanging on the wall. “Sixteen thirty. Good a time as any to start making dinner. Anything in particular you’d like?” She asked, standing up. She thought it, rubbing her chin with a hoof. “Nah. I don’t have any preferences. You?” Nodding, Octavia headed for the door, stopping shortly before it as if she’d just remembered something. She craned her neck to look at Vinyl over her shoulder, asking, “How do you like fish?” “Eh?” She could not have been certain, but if she had to bet Vinyl would say her own expression was similar to that of the Princess of Magic when she was told she had become something akin to a demigod. At the very least, she knew that she looked about as puzzled as anypony ever. “Fish? Isn’t that only for pegasi?” The Cellist appeared more like a filly who had been caught with her hoof in the cookie jar; fidgeting with her hooves, cheeks red with embarrassment, and averting any sort of eye contact. “Well, no,” she admitted at length. “It is mostly pegasi that eat fish as they’re the only omnivorous ponies. There are a few others that sometimes eat it as well.” A feeling of concern pushed away any confusion as to the odd question. Octavia wasn’t just embarrassed, but seem nervous. Afraid, even. Vinyl quickly raised her hooves, making Octavia pause her fidgeting for long enough to let Vinyl get a word in. “Sorry, sorry. Shouldn’t have pried.” She let her hooves down, fixing her friend with a friendly smile. “I’m not going to judge you for eating fish. In fact, if it helps, I’d be willing to try some. Won’t make any promises, but hey, it might be good.” That seemed to do the trick. Steadily, though not exactly quickly, the anxiety bled away from Octavia, leaving behind a much calmer mare. “Thanks,” she said, though not elaborating what she was thanking her for. “And I’ll make sure to make enough so that, even if you don’t like it, you won’t go hungry.” She turned away, trotting towards the kitchen with a, “I promise!” Vinyl let herself relax then, slipping deeper into the sofa. That reaction was nothing like she’d expected. It was understandable that she might be slightly embarrassed at eating fish, but it had been way beyond simple embarrassment. She was anxious. Seemed frightened, even. Her brows furrowed, lips pulling into a thin line. She turned it over in her head at least a dozen times, coming no closer to why she’d seemed so nervous over something so simple. Unless… She couldn’t be? She snorted, waving a hoof as if that would dissipate the idea. Nah. Can’t be a pegasus. Even if she’d been a cripple, there would still have been some signs of it. Remains of the wing joints, or something. She stood up, leaving the idea behind on the couch as she started looking around the living room. It was spacious, though aside from that it wasn’t very special. There were a few smaller photographs which dotted the walls here and there, one of which—Vinyl noted—was of Octavia in her late teens, with a pair of mares on either side of her, both of them pegasi. One was sky blue with two-toned mane and tail; each of these tones darker than the fur. That one had a wide grin on her face, smiling at the camera with a sort of pride only a parent could have. The other, while still smiling, looked more down to earth—Irony at its best, Vinyl thought—and sported a light, lavender coat and a sandy blonde mane and tail. “Adopted,” Vinyl muttered. “Or artificial insemination.” She glanced at Octavia in the picture, then back at the two mares. “Adopted. Not a single colour matches.” “I trust that’s not a problem?” Came Octavia’s voice from behind, eliciting a yelp from Vinyl as she turned around quickly. “Of course not,” the unicorn replied once she’d gotten over the shock. She turned around to the picture again, finding herself unable to not smile. “I mean, you look so happy in this picture. Why would I have a problem with it?” “You’d be surprised,” Octavia replied with a roll of her eyes. “Some people can be judgemental as all tartarus.” She jerked her head towards the kitchen, prompting Vinyl to follow, as she continued talking. “I remember when a reporter came to me after I had played at the Gala, and asked how I felt now that the Gala had been a fiasco, just like my ‘real’—” she stopped for a second to add air quotes to the word “—family had been as well.” “How’d he even find out?” “No idea,” Octavia grumbled. “Nor do I really care. Dinner’s finished, though, could you help me take it in?” Vinyl nodded, catching up on the not-so-subtle hint that it was a topic for another time. She went to pick up a large bowl of what looked to be pasta salad with half a dozen fruits and vegetable pieces added to it. She held the edge of the bowl with her teeth, mirrored by Octavia as she took a small plate from the oven with two filets of fish. She had to admit, they looked surprisingly good, even if they smelled weird. Following Octavia back into the living room, they went about decorating the table, setting out glasses, dishes, and cutlery . Taking a seat opposite her friend, Vinyl picked up her knife and fork, ready to eat, when a lance of pain shot through her horn once more, causing her to drop them with a clang of metal on wood. She groaned, bringing a hoof to her the base of her horn. “I’m an idiot,” she ground out between gritted teeth. Like before, she forced the pain away, not wanting to disturb their dinner. Octavia gave her a look of concern which she did her best to wave off, insisting that there was no cause for concern. “Are you sure?” “Of course I’m sure,” Vinyl insisted, picking up her fork with a hoof, thankful for never having bothered to remove the small magnet inserted in her hoof once she learned telekinesis. She’d been told time and again how it was only foals who hadn’t yet learned to use their magic, as well as earth ponies and pegasi, that used the hoof-magnet to hold their cutlery. Who knew the occasional bout of laziness would help me down the road. It was awkward to eat like this after so many years, but she bore with it, insisting that she could do it, even if she dropped the occasional piece of pasta back onto the plate. Much to her dismay, the fish didn’t taste as good as it looked, and so she admitted to Octavia, offering up her piece to the cellist which she graciously accepted, eating it with glee. “You like it that much?” Vinyl asked, chuckling. She’d finished a short time before, having reclined in her seat with a content look on her face. “Of course. I think they’re good, at least. You liked the salad?” “I did. Best one I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.” She gave her belly a single pat as if to reinforce her statement. “You’re a great cook, I’ll admit. Even better than Mr. Baguet, I dare say.” “Mr. Baguet?” Octavia asked, humorous disbelief heavy in her voice. “Well, uuh… It’s what we called my mom sometimes,” Vinyl hesitantly replied. Now it was her turn to have burning cheeks. Embarrassed from having let that detail slip. “Uhuh. If you say so, Vinyl.” She stood up and took both their plates to the kitchen, Vinyl helping. “Say, if you help me clean up, should I walk you home? I’d like to see where you live, if you don’t mind.” Vinyl nodded, putting both their glasses into the sink, turning on the water. “I’d like that,” she admitted, smiling. “Where’s the dish soap?” Octavia opened the cupboard beneath the sink, pulling out a bottle of dish soap. “Here.” “Thanks. Now… How to do this without magic.” She looked down at her hooves, grimacing. This was going to be difficult. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite as difficult as she had expected it to be. Octavia being there as well, made quick work of the dishes, and after only ten minutes they were done. Vinyl dried her hooves off, returning the rag to the hook where she’d found it. “Anything else you need help with?” Vinyl asked, turning around to Octavia who was putting away the last of the bowls they had used for the salad. She shook her head and closed the cupboard. “No. We’re ready to go if you want. You’re welcome to stay a bit longer if you want, though.” Vinyl paused, glancing out the window on the wall opposite the door. She wouldn’t mind staying for longer. She enjoyed Octavia’s company, but… She shook her head. “Thanks Octavia, but no thanks. I wouldn’t want to intrude, and I also need to get home to rest.” She pointed at her horn. “Need to make sure this thing gets back in good condition. Can’t do light shows without it, after all.” Offering a small smile, Octavia walked out the kitchen and to the front door, waiting for Vinyl to follow. “You wouldn’t be intruding, but I get what you mean. Must be dreadfully boring to spend time with little old me.” “Not at all!” Vinyl objected, perhaps a little too quickly if the light blush on Octavia’s cheeks were anything to go by. “I mean, you’re nice and fun to be with. An interesting pony, and intelligent to boot, so why shouldn’t I like to spend time with you?” Octavia’s blush faded, replaced by a playfully exasperated look. She rolled her eyes, smiling, and opened the door to the stairwell outside. “Right. If you say so.” She walked out, Vinyl following. “It’s already almost dark,” Vinyl said as they crossed the street, looking up at the stars winking forth from the encroaching blackness of the night. They had left from Octavia’s half an hour before, and by then it had been relatively light out. Now, however, the moon was rising, and the sun setting. “That, dear Vinyl, is because it’s autumn now. They changed from summer to autumn just yesterday.” She glanced at the unicorn, eyes twinkling at the chance to tease her a little bit. “I suspect you do know how the seasons work? The days are shorter during autumn than they are during the summer, and—” “And the winter days are shorter than autumn, I get it Tavi. You don’t have to rub it in.” While her tone of voice was that of someone exasperated, she couldn’t help but joining in on Octavia’s chuckles. “So let me get this straight,” she began after a short while. “Summer days are shorter than spring days, correct?” “No, Vinyl. Summer days are longer than spring days. I swear to Celestia, you’re insufferable when you get like this.” “And you like it, don’t try claiming otherwise,” Vinyl said with a grin, poking Octavia in the shoulder. Octavia hesitated, glancing up at the sky. “Maybe,” she said at length, smirking cheekily at Vinyl. “Maybe I do.” She stuck her tongue out at Vinyl, causing the other to grin. “There’s a shortcut if we pass through here,” Vinyl said suddenly, nodding towards an alley running perpendicular to the street they were on. It was clear that not a lot of ponies actually used it, as evident by the loose cobblestones visible along the entirety of what was visible of it. “You sure it’s safe?” Octavia asked, sounding hesitant all of a sudden. “I mean, it’s dark already. Shouldn’t we take the route where there are other ponies? Main street and such?” Vinyl chuckled, though not in a demeaning way. “Relax, Tavi. I use this shortcut all the time, and I’ve never encountered trouble. It’s safe, I promise.” Though she still looked hesitant, Octavia nodded and dutifully followed Vinyl into the alley. It wasn’t as well lit as the other streets in the city, but there was still enough that one could see where things were. There were no shops here, either, only old houses for those who just wanted someplace to live, regardless of its quality. They continued on for another few minutes, chatting between each other. It wasn’t until a voice called out to them from in front that they stopped. “Well well. What do we have here?” Vinyl and Octavia stopped, looking towards the new voice, coming face to face with a group of both stallions and mares, each with a look on them that screamed trouble. Vinyl and Octavia took a step back, prompting the stallion who had spoken to smirk. “Something the matter?” He asked, stepping closer, the light of a nearby lamp post revealing his short, brown mane and beige coat. Atop his head sprouted a long horn, marking him a unicorn. Four ponies stood behind him, each with as intimidating as the others. Glancing behind them, Vinyl saw four other stallions, each with lecherous grins on their faces. How hadn’t they noticed them? We were too busy talking! She glanced at Octavia, surprised to finding her friend with a look of pure defiance on her face rather than fear. She looked forward again, adopting a similar look of defiance. The stallion simply grinned at them. “And here I thought you’d appreciate a bit of company.” He raised an eyebrow, grin widening enough to show his teeth, surprisingly white. “Or am I mistaken?” Vinyl gritted her teeth, trying to force magic through her horn. She winced as the ache returned, although not as severe as it had been earlier. A few sparks were all that she amounted to, something which the leader of these thugs noticed. He laughed and turned to a muscular unicorn stallion behind him. “Hey, Bolster, show her some real magic, would ya?” The unicorn stallion in question stepped up to the side of their leader, his horn lighting up. Vertigo assaulted all of Vinyl’s senses as she was enveloped in a powerful magical grasp, lifted off of the ground, and thrown. For a moment everything went black as pain erupted from everywhere. She slid down from the wall, groaning as another wave of pain hit her from the short fall. Laughter accompanied her groans. She could hear Octavia screaming her name, terror filling her voice. I’m sorry, Octavia, she thought, struggling to open open her eyes. I didn’t know. She lay silent, still fighting to remain conscious. Everything hurt. She didn’t think she’d broken anything, but… She realised something, suddenly. The laughter had stopped, replaced instead by the sound of shouting. But it wasn’t Octavia’s voice. It was the others. She ignored the blood dripping into her eyes, from where her shattered shades had cut open her brow, and cracked an eye open. She saw something she would never have expected. Octavia was a whirling monstrosity of anger and desperation, kicking and punching wildly, but coordinated. Already two of the thugs lay unconscious on the ground, a third joining them as Octavia delivered a rib-crushing kick to his side, sending him flying into the opposite wall. Next came two others, then three, then four. From all around her they ran to Octavia, only to get pushed back by her. A faint smile found its way to Vinyl’s lips, a sliver of optimism worming its way into her mind. Maybe… maybe she could actually win. She looked so strong, so quick. The heights at which she jumped should have been impossible for an earth pony, Vinyl thought, marvelling at how her friend dodged and wove between her attackers. Octavia kept at it for all of half a minute before she suddenly froze. Her eyes widened as she stood stunned. Vinyl too, froze, feeling dread creeping over every part of her. A punch connected with Octavia’s jaw, sending her to the ground. The others quickly joined in, hailing blows upon the now prone mare. The leader, the beige stallion, glanced over at Vinyl from the sidelines and, upon seeing her conscious, grinned and waved an object at her before turning back to watch the spectacle. Vinyl’s eyes followed the object, and felt her dread multiply tenfold. Blood dripped from the knife, pooling on the ground. From the throng of ponies kicking and punching Octavia, Vinyl could see a similar pool slowly grow in size. “No,” she croaked. Tears and blood stung in her eyes, blurring her vision. “No.” She struggled, forcing her body to move. She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t let it happen. “Stop.” She got her hooves underneath her and tried pushing herself up. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to get to her home together, drink a cup of tea, and then part ways for the night with fond memories of an evening spent together. “Go away.” Vinyl stood up, blood leaking from where the skin on her brow had broken. She lit her horn, pushing as hard as she could. Harder than she ever had before. Nothing more than errant sparks answered her call, but she kept at it. She gritted her teeth, feeling the adrenaline course through her body. They would not hurt her. They would not hurt Octavia. She couldn’t allow it. Would not allow it. Vinyl clenched her clenched and closed her eyes, digging deeper into her reserves than she ever had, casting the pain aside. It wasn’t important. Octavia was important. And then she felt it. Power the likes of which she had never felt before flooded her, soothing her pains, reinvigorating her… and fuelling her rage. She opened her eyes—glowing white from the power she commanded—barely noticing the arcs of arcane power jumping from her body, scorching everywhere it touched. She squared off, lowering her head threateningly, blazing horn pointing forward. ”Get away from her!”