The Things Tavi Says

by shortskirtsandexplosions


Pink Things

Crickets chirp outside, occasionally distorting the green hum beyond Ponyville. Here in my apartment, I sit slumped in a chair, twirling a clipboard in my magical grasp.

Pinkie Pie paces and paces around me. Her mane is a frayed pink mess, but her eyes are as bright, blue, and awake as ever.

"Hmmmmm..." She pauses every now and then to tap her chin in deep... deep thought. "So we ruled out having an audition for royal bard, since Octavia's already done that... and has gone to great lengths to run away from that."

I nod.

"And we decided that sending out requests for 'musical appraisals of college performers' wouldn't fly, 'cuz that's totally Miss Heartstrings' bag and Tavi isn't the kind of mare to step on any other pony's fetlocks."

I turn and look across the room.

Bon Bon and Lyra are slumped on a couch, lying back to back, snoring.

I adjust my shades with a sigh. I nod again.

"Still, though..." Pinkie Pie lifts her muzzle with a pouting expression. "What's so bad about my idea to have Dashie skywrite 'COME TO THE BOWTIE CONVENTION IN PONYVILLE' over the Fillydelphia skyline?"

I arch an eyebrow, jaw tight.

"Yeah... yeah..." Pinkie Pie fans herself with her notes. "Good point. Just 'cuz the most adorafuzzy earth pony in Equestria looks good in a bowtie doesn't mean she wants or needs more of 'em. Hmmmmmmm..." She squints at her written sheets of paper, then steals a goofy smile at me. "What if we get Fluttershy to crown Scribbler princess of the kitten empire? Surely that would string her along!"

Silence.

More crickets.

"Eeeeugh!" Pinkie slumps to her knees, grabbing at her mane. "This is tougher than tough! You know—like—a gazillion things that could make your bestiest of best besties happy!" She gulped, sniffling. "And yet I haven't the slightest idea how to make enough of them manifest to lure her back here!"

I stand up and pace across the shadowed apartment. Lyra's snoring breaths ripple through the air on golden streams.

"It'd be simpler if Octavia could be drawn in by a combination of some of these things. But her interests are so goofily eclectic!" Pinkie's facial muscles hang, long and sad. "I feel like a failurrrre! Somepony should write a book! The Things Pinkie Poops! Ughhhh!" She bumps her head repeatedly against the front door's frame. "Think Think Think!"

My eyes fall to Octavia's side of the foyer. I spot a corner of the floor where many of her favorite cushions used to lie.

Maybe if we get Princess Twilight to commission the construction of a brand new pillow factory?

... ... ...nahhh.

Yeesh, I don't blame Pinkie Pie. This is hard.

My eyes trace the edges of a desk. Something lies in the shadow, abandoned in dust. Curious, I trot over and pull the thing out with telekinesis.

It's one of Octavia's pillows. She must have left it behind in her hurry to leave Ponyville months ago.

The very sight of it haunts me. I'm almost scared to touch the thing... knowing that it's velvety softness will instantly remind me of a long lost roommate.

With a sigh, I turn the thing over. And that's when I see it: a treble clef.

The pillow is monogrammed with Octavia's cutie mark. Funny how I once got so used to that symbol. Now it only haunts me.

"What if... like..." Pinkie Pie rambles. "...we get Spike to eat a whole lot of curry and teach him to belch so much green fire that you'll be able to ride the breath back in time so you can appear before Octavia while embodying the avatar of the goddess of music and convince her to changer her mind about... about..." She groans. "Ohhhhh, who am I kidding?! That's far too complicated to ever finish!"

I blink. My eyes trace the edges of the treble clef.

Music...

My heart skips a beat.

Music.

I drop the pillow, grab a pen, and scribble across my clipboard. I then dangle the thing directly above Pinkie Pie.

The mare blinks from where she's slumped to the ground. She grasps the clipboard, squints at my writing, then tilts her head up to meet my gaze. "Tavi's 'most favorite thing in the whole wide world,' huh?"

I nod vehemently.

"Hmmmmmm..." She rubs her fluffy head. "It's a tall order... too tall for me..." She then grins wickedly. "But not too tall for a princess!"