//------------------------------// // II: The Skip // Story: The Jump // by Glimglam //------------------------------// Coming to terms with the fact that one has inexplicably turned into a sharkpony overnight is by no means a simple process. Rather, the exact opposite is true. Many steps are involved, some more demanding than others, but all must be taken at one’s own pace. For as fast, slow, as stagnant as the individual requires. Naturally, Octavia proceeded rather swiftly through “shock”, had a brief altercation with “denial”, then skipped ahead to and got snagged on “despair”. Screaming was involved, as well. Quite a lot of it. “I’M A FREAK!” she shrieked for what was perhaps the sixth time, by Vinyl’s count. “A MONSTER! ABOMINATION! BEAST! I-I’LL BE OUSTED FROM SOCIETY! HUNTED! THINGS I CAN’T EVEN NAME! BAD THINGS!” Despite the initial shock at seeing her friend in her current and particularly shark-y state, she evidently took it far better than Octavia herself was. Every opportunity Vinyl had to interject was quickly interrupted, keeping the deejay from getting a single word in edgewise. “H-how in Equestria could this have happened?” the half-shark continued to wail and wonder aloud, having calmed down enough to no longer warrant unnecessary exaggeration. “This is impossible! When could this—how could—why?! Why now, and why like this? This doesn’t make any seeeeennnnse...” Octavia moaned pitifully, slumping onto the floor with her hooves on her head. "I-I just need to relax," she whimpered. "Relax, and rationalize what little of it I can. Where was I last? The beach? P-perhaps I caught some kind of water-borne disease that turns ponies into sharks?!" The mare paused, then frowned and shook her head. "No, no, that's ridiculous. Even more so than that 'second puberty' theory. But if it's not that, and it's not poison joke, then what could it..." She trailed off and sighed, covering her face with her hooves. “Of all the days something like this could happen, it had to be today...” Vinyl shook her head, taking a drink of her soda as she held it aloft with magic, and patting her friend’s back reassuringly for what was probably the sixty-fifth or so time. “The one day, the day that’s been in preparations for weeks!” she continued, sniffling and looking up at Vinyl. “Not to mention one of my busiest days, never mind the most important! Surely you can understand, can you?” The deejay only nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Of course! You, with all your — whatever it is you get caught up with. Music, electronics, pigging out on junk, and all that." Octavia sighed, then snorted, scowling a bit. “And then there’s me, with hardly a shred of time to myself. A concert at Town Hall, the usual shopping, and...” She bit her lip — very gently — and looked up at Vinyl again. “And—my parents, as well. Their visit. Today. You remember, don’t you?” A sigh escaped Vinyl, and she nodded. “Choice words would have been had if you didn’t,” Octavia muttered. “This is unbelievably important to me. I haven’t seen my mother in nearly a year, and my father...” She trailed off, swallowing deeply and curling her tail a little. “My father, I haven’t seen him at all. Maybe when I was very young, but obviously I don’t remember those years quite as well anymore. I was always told he lived overseas, that he was unable to live with us, due to his ‘job’.” Octavia pursed her lips, quiet for a moment. “I’ve never quite understood that reasoning,” she said. “But, that was then and this is now. For all intents and purposes, he’s practically a stranger to me. I have to make a good impression on him, but — with me, like this?” She gritted her teeth and whipped her thick, aquatic tail around with a frustrated grunt, unintentionally slapping it against Vinyl’s flank. “What would my father say about me then? My mother, even? That their proud progeny is a fishy freak of nature? Something that belongs in a circus? The local aquarium?! I—” The shark-mare caught herself, and sighed, standing up again. “No, I — I shouldn’t think like that, should I?” she asked aloud, turning to Vinyl. “They’re my parents. Surely they wouldn’t disown me because of some slight, er, cosmetic alterations?” Vinyl stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “...Yes, you’re right,” Octavia said, “I should have nothing to fear from them, regardless of how the day progresses. And — and with any luck, I can get this fixed. Until then, I should just...” She trailed off again, still looking at her friend. The deejay glanced from side to side, then shrugged again, taking another sip of her drink. “Right, right. I should face the day. Regardless of the difficulties and all what-have-you. Simply remaining here and drowning my sorrows in solitude and tasteless junk food is... unbecoming of me.” Vinyl stared at her, almost with a look of bemusement. She shook her head, finishing the rest of her drink and patting her friend’s back once more before standing up, heading off to the kitchen. Feeling oddly reassured and encouraged, Octavia smiled. “Strange as you can be, Vinyl, you are a such a good listener sometimes.” Surprisingly, her traversal through Ponyville proper wasn’t quite as nightmarish as Octavia feared. Ponies did spare her some curious looks, a few even pointed her out, but many did not seem to focus on her. Or want to be near her at all. Which, all things considered, she was grateful for. It’s never an issue to anyone unless it happens TO you, I suppose, she thought to herself. Granted, she did have a few oddball encounters. Mostly ones of annoyance. “No, for the fourth time, I do not know how I got like this.” “But you’re like, part-shark, right? How are you even able to breathe on land?” “I have lungs.” “How fast can you swim?” “Not very.” “Oooh, can I touch your tail?” “I would rather that you not.” “Hey, it feels smooth! And wiggly!” “What did I just finish saying.” The three little headaches eventually got tired and left, much to Octavia’s relief. It was annoying to have to deal with, yes, but the pestering of a few foals is certainly preferable to a mob with pitchforks and torches, she reasoned. On the way to the performance, she couldn’t help but notice how much easier it seemed to carry her cello case. Not that Octavia ever had difficulty with it before, but now it seemed effortless. Almost like the case she hefted on her back was empty, even though it did, in fact, contain her precious instrument. Beyond that, she couldn’t help but notice that she felt... bigger? Slightly? Not enough to stand out, unless one were to stop and compare her with another mare, but enough to feel that she possessed more of a presence than usual. A presence that, oddly, didn’t seem to be attracting all that much attention. She certainly wasn’t going to complain about that. The Town Hall wasn’t terribly crowded when Octavia arrived, but she had arrived early, so this did not surprise her. She made haste toward the stage that had been set up in the main chamber, ignoring the odd looks from staff and early arrivals in the audience. So far, no pitchforks, she noted, setting up her cello on the stage among her fellow musicians — none of whom spared her more than a passing glance — and set about tuning it properly. Not even any harsh, disparaging remarks. I’m actually rather impressed. Though, after everything we’ve endured in the town, I suppose a shark-pony WOULD be rather mundane by comparison... To her satisfaction, basically nothing about her usual stance was altered by the obnoxious tail. If anything, there was a slight improvement. The thicker, longer appendage afforded her somewhat more balance control in her bipedal stance, she found. It took a bit of getting used to, but it was inconsequential. “Interesting,” she muttered to herself, a smile gracing her muzzle as she looks down at herself, adjusting her posture a little. Not that I expected many problems here, no downsides are a welcome surprise all the same. I suppose this won’t be as bad as I feared, after all. “Well, well, look who crawled out of the fish tank.” Octavia frowned as her ears flattened, turning to the source of the voice. “Hello to you as well, Ms. Harp,” she said, glaring at her with gritted teeth. “I can see you somehow managed to wrench yourself away from your indulgences for more than a quarter-hour.” “Hah! Very funny, Octy,” came the rude mare’s reply. “As usual, your biting sense of humor is all too present.” The shark-mare’s tail flicked at that remark, rolling her eyes. “Can’t quite help it, seeing as how you insist on sticking your head into the completely metaphorical jaw. Be careful, as it might end up taking something away, one day.” “Oh my, was that a threat?” “I would consider it more of a friendly word of warning, Harp. Casual advice for a rainy day.” “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind, Melody.” Octavia clicked her tongue, shaking her head and returning focus to her own business. She knew that blue-coated mare with the harp cutie mark all too well. Symphony Harp, a prodigy of one of the many powerful Canterlot families, with a rich and illustrious history of magic, music, and fine arts of the highest caliber. Head of her class, perfect in every way, and most definitely not a cheap loser that still lived with her parents. ...That was how Harp described herself, anyhow. The truth was that she was naught more than a simple earth pony like Octavia, and one that placed well below herself and many others in the Academy, grade-wise. She did not deny that her talents had some musical merit, but certainly nowhere near enough to justify the head of hot air she possessed. Same, irritating Symphony I always knew, she thought, casting another glance at the mare. Whom, not to much of Octavia’s surprise, was caught staring intently at her as their eyes met. The gray mare quirked her brow. “Dare I even ask, is there a problem, Ms. Harp?” “Oh, not at all, Octy," the harp-flanked mare retorted, a smirk gracing her features. "I just find it rather cute, how a fish like you is able to handle instruments. My, how times have changed.” Octavia growled, baring her teeth at her before looking back to her own instrument. “Very funny, Symphony,” she muttered. To her slight satisfaction, she couldn't help but notice how the obnoxious mare had flinched at her aggressive display, then attempted to play it cool as she minded her own business, finally. That is one mare I do not mind being afraid of me. A glance at the clock indicated mere minutes until the show was due to start, and more and more ponies were already filing in. She felt fortunate that her place on the stage was near the back, out of sight. Even if there was never to be any angry, scared mobs, at least she was spared the personal embarrassment. “Hey.” The shark-mare gritted her teeth again, glaring at Symphony. “What.” “Serious inquiry. How did you even get like that, anyway?” “Magical mishap,” she snapped as a reply, almost without thinking. “A ‘prodigy’ like yourself should know all about those.” “Ah.” And that was all she had to say, apparently. Symphony returned to her business, as did Octavia to hers. Nothing more was said between them as the conductor took his place in front of the stage. The concert was finally ready to start. As she readied herself, she still could not help but wonder about that odd annoyance of a mare. And, thinking on it now, just how hungry she was starting to feel... Hmm. Surely she would not be missed, would she? In the end, the concert was a pleasant success. Perhaps not the single greatest thing to have graced the town, no. But it turned out quite a bit better than Octavia had anticipated. Not a single pitchfork nor torch in sight. She didn’t eat Symphony, however. Despite how much she really, really wanted to. Beyond there not being any real opportunity to do so, it had quickly dawned on her just how abhorrent it was to think such things. She was supposed to be a pony, after all. Ponies don't eat meat. To do so would be simply barbaric. And yet, some part of her mind continually pushed her towards these thoughts. Ugh, what is WRONG with me? Her stomach, uncaring of her inner moral compass, continued to growl audibly as she made her way through the market district. She needed something to eat. And quite soon, too. “Food,” she mumbled, wandering near a flower cart and turning to gaze at them hungrily. She glanced from side to side. Nopony was currently attending the stand. Surely they would not mind just a small sample, for the road? Ensuring she wasn’t being watched, she quickly snapped her jaw shut around the bulbs of a few tulips, ripping them from their stems. She snatched up a few daisies in her mouth as well, quickly cantering away from the stand and out of sight as she chewed on her mouthful of plant matter, swallowing it down. ...Only to pause, and making a face of distaste as she gagged, spitting out a few of the petals that remained in her mouth. "Disgusting," she muttered, the aftertaste making its mark on her taste-buds. Either these were just bad ones, or... “Hey! What happened to my flowers?” The voice of the mare returning to her stand prompted the shark-mare to canter off in a hurry — quickly, but not desperately, which would make her more obvious — and leave the market square behind, not looking back until she was well away from it. She sighed, groaning a bit as her carnivorous stomach continued to rumble, clearly not amused by her pitiful offerings. “I can’t even eat, now?” Octavia asked aloud, as if angrily demanding answers from her rebellious digestive tract. “Flowers? Hay-browns? Those awful chips? Nothing? Then what will satisfy you?!” Just as the mare said that, she caught sight of a small, white rabbit, attempting to pull carrots out of a nearby flower box that somepony had planted. Cheeky little thief, she thought, scowling at the animal. The hypocrisy of her statement was lost on her mind as her stomach grumbled again, however, and she caught herself licking her lips. As she slowly approached the busy bunny from behind, Octavia wasn’t particularly interested in the carrots. Surely nopony would miss one rabbit.