Mezzo Forte
There was a fight going on at the bar.
Vinyl would have loved to say that she wasn’t a part of it; that the relentless screeching and thump of hooves against creaky wooden floorboards had in no way been triggered by her loud, careless mouth and tendency to say what she didn’t mean.
No such luck.
The stallion threw another punch at her muzzle, most likely revenge for causing his own to leak drops of blood that even now dripped from his right nostril, making a mess of his normally smooth lilac fur. His green eyes were wild with fury and his motions driven by pure rage and nothing else.
Vinyl ducked, leaping to the next table and holding back a snide snicker as her opponent staggered, disproportioned by only standing on two legs, and stumbled off of the table, his weight causing the whole thing to tip over and smash to the ground, as well as all of the contents currently atop it. Sticking out her tongue in a taunting sort of way, she jogged in place. “Come on, big boy! You done with me yet?”
He roared and threw himself at the table; suddenly surprised she found herself thrown backwards by his bulk and was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. The lilac stallion stomped towards her, pupils nothing but dots of fiery rage and hoofsteps making the ground shake.
Vinyl attempted to scoot backwards, blowing her mane out of her face with a quick puff of air; she laughed nervously in her raspy tone. “Okay, okay. I take back what I said. I take it back. Just let me go, ‘kay?”
His nostrils flared; he leaned in real close until their muzzles were nearly an inch apart. “You don’t mean it.”
She snorted. “’Course I do! Vinyl Scratch never says something she doesn’t mean, bro.”
He stomped again, pulling back his lips to reveal bared teeth in a hideous frown. “I’m not your bro!”
Chest heaving, Vinyl felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her head. “I promise you,” she begged in her most sincere and feminine tone possible, “I really do mean it. I take back what I said. Seriously.”
The stallion stopped for a moment, seeming to consider this as a possibility, and Vinyl struck, catching him in the cheek with a well-aimed blow from her left hoof. Always the stronger puncher – always had been, always would be. She couldn’t help it; she let a grin cross her face.
Her enemy was not amused. He charged again, pushing off with his stronger-than-normal earth pony legs and managing to give her a healthy smack across the cheek Vinyl couldn’t avoid. That would make a bruise in the morning. No time to worry about it now, though.
Suddenly everything became crystal clear.
The stomping in the background, the yells from the other ponies in the bar, had previously been just a buzz she had blocked out of her system; ignoring it was no difficulty in the heat of the moment. But now, as her head spun from getting punched and her bruise hurt like crazy, everything became startlingly clear.
There were ponies cantering towards her at top speed – two stallions and a mare. The stallions were nothing special – they practically lived at the bar, their workplace. Vinyl saw them every time she came here. But the mare? She was new. Maybe a visitor, maybe a new employee. It didn’t really matter much given the context of the situation.
The larger of the two stallions turned to restrain her lilac opponent; the smaller one got in-between his co-worker and Vinyl, like a protective wall. The mare came straight up to Vinyl, placed one hoof on her shoulder, and, without even a word of advice or encouragement, began directing her out the door.
Feelings of relentless rage bubbled up inside Vinyl Scratch like a volcano about to blow. “Hey! Hey, where are we going?” She attempted to turn around, but the mare’s hoof on her shoulder was firm and still.
“Mares that start fights are not permitted inside the building,” came the smooth reply from behind her, lightly accented and cold as ice.
They came to the entranceway; Vinyl turned her head back to see all of the other ponies staring at her, expressions ranging from disbelief to smug pride. She grit her teeth, biting her lip. She wouldn’t cry – Vinyl Scratch was not a mare that cried easily, if at all – but if she wasn’t careful, she would scream, and that wasn’t a sound her fellow bar-mates wanted to hear.
The door swung open; the mare promptly continued her brisk walk out into the cold of the night. Luna’s moon hung high above them, only halfway showing on this night, perfectly contrasting the navy blue of the sky with its shining silver. Cold air hit Vinyl’s muzzle; she took a deep breath and felt refreshment flood her lungs as they gasped, taking it all in with relief.
“There. I’m out. Now will you leave me alone?” she snapped at the mare, who, in the natural night’s light, she could suddenly see a whole lot clearer.
Her coat shone a dark, dark grey – one could almost consider it black – and her mane, curled in an intricate bun atop the back of her neck, was silver streaked with periwinkle. Her sky blue eyes were not amused as she stared Vinyl down, clearly not happy with her explosive response. She was actually very pretty, though that was a thought the unicorn banished quickly.
“Actually, no,” the mare replied sternly. “I have a question to ask you first.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes, alighting her horn with light blue magic to pluck a piece of grass from the side road next to her and tie it into a quick knot. “Alright, shoot.”
Her companion blinked. “Pardon?”
“Shoot. You know, fire away.”
“You’re not telling me to shoot you, are you?” For the first time the mare’s voice wasn’t cold or crisp – it was the sound of genuine confusion.
“Ah, you’re one of those folk who doesn’t know about slang. Gotcha. Shoot means just talk. Shoot it at me.”
The mare still looked uncertain, but she took a reluctant seat in the grass. “Why did you start the fight?”
Vinyl hadn’t expected this question.
She didn’t like it all that much.
She took a long swig from her drink and slammed it down on the counter, a little bit woozy. “Another round!” Her voice slurred, but she shrugged it off. The stallion at the bar winked in her direction and headed to retrieve her order.
That was when he sat next to her, leaning lazily against the countertop with a bored expression on his face. She smiled his way, showing teeth, making sure to take in all of the details. This was a newcomer at her bar. She knew everypony here – the ones here to party, the ones here to drown their sorrows, the ones here just for a lively time.
“Hey,” she greeted him, taking in his short blonde mane and lilac fur.
He nodded at her, only glancing her way for a second, but when he did so, he did a double-take and looked back. “Hey, aren’t you that cellist’s marefriend?”
With the drink still flooding through her system, it took her a few seconds to process what he was asking her. Surprisingly she didn’t even blush. She just laughed, a hearty laugh, before letting out a long belch. “Tavi ain’t my marefriend, man.”
“Word on the street says she is.”
She narrowed her scarlet eyes and slammed a hoof against the table. “Then word on the street is damn wrong.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that was like an earthquake. “You seem pretty defensive of her, sweetheart.”
“Am not.”
“Your face is red, look. Aw, cute. You’re blushing.”
Vinyl stood up, chest heaving. “If one more word comes out of that mouth, you’re asking for a beating.”
Did the stallion turn and walk away from her obvious might and strength?
No.
He simply laughed again. He laughed in her face.
She growled.
She sprang.
Vinyl shrugged. “Was a stupid reason, really. Seriously, it’s not worth asking me about. Now why don’t you go pry in somepony else’s secret business, lady?”
She cocked her head to the side, as if amused. “Lady isn’t a very lovely name, I don’t think.”
“Well, you haven’t exactly told me yours,” Vinyl was quick to point out, a scowl on her face. The memories had made her unhappy and she was clearly showing it.
“Harmony,” she replied, a smile playing on her lips, though it wasn’t a real smile. More like a semi-smile – a smile that was there without the feeling behind it, like a mask instead of an actual mare. “And I’d ought to go now.”
Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “I’m not stopping you.”
“You’re not,” Harmony replied sharply. “I just want to tell you one last thing.” She stopped and considered for a second. “Three things, actually.”
“Shoot.”
The mare held her head high and proud, not backing down. “One. You’re an absolutely terrible liar – I can see the red plastered all over your face. It looks like a filly painted it there.”
Before Vinyl could protest, Harmony was already onto the next proclamation. “Two. Tell Octavia I send my love.”
Panic alert flashed through Vinyl’s mind. She knows Tavi? But…but how does she know I know her? I…send her my love? Who the hay does this mare think she is? It took all of her willpower not to slug Harmony right there and then, but she wanted to know what the mare was going to say next.
“Three, you ought to consider being more like her,” Harmony finished, eyes flashing with some sort of dangerous, impossible-to-interpret warning. “It might do you some good.”
Vinyl’s mind spun; she blinked several times in rapid succession. There was so much she wanted to ask; so much she needed to know. But Harmony had already vanished inside the swinging double doors of the Canterlot bar; she could still hear the music playing inside and see the lights flashing and all she could think was: Who was that?
No answer came.
So Vinyl began the walk home.
“Tavi, I’m home!”
Vinyl trotted into the entranceway, not bothering to clean her hooves, and collapsed on the couch, mind spinning madly. Into the room entered Octavia, top class cellist and a beautiful mare who also happened to be Vinyl’s roommate.
“Home so early?” she asked skeptically, taking a seat next to the unicorn on the couch.
Vinyl shrugged. “Just wasn’t feelin’ it tonight, you know?”
Octavia narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t pry. She was nice like that. Kind of a doormat at times, but Vinyl liked her that way.
“Know if anything’s on the TV?”
“Nothing; I’ve already checked.”
“Damn it.”
They sat together in an awkward phase of silence for a few minutes more; Tavi got up eventually, claiming she was tired and needed to head to sleep, which did make sense, considering they were both awake at two in the morning. But something compelled Vinyl to stop her with one outstretched hoof. “Tavi, wait.”
Octavia turned, confusion and exhaustion in her eyes. “What is it, Vinyl?”
“There was a mare asking about you at the bar today.”
Her eyes went wide; she said nothing.
“Really pretty little girl she was. Called herself Harmony. She said I had to send you her love, but honestly, Tavi, who is she? Did you have an affair with some other mare once?” The tone was sharp and accusing, not at all how Vinyl had intended it to sound.
Octavia gave no response; she was as still as a statue.
Vinyl got up and prodded her roughly in the side. “Tavi, what’re you doing?”
She awoke as if from a dream, giving a soft gasp as her eyes flew open, fluttering several times to make sure she was awake for real. “Vinyl. Vinyl, do me a favor. Never talk to that mare again.”
A small burst of excitement vanished into disappointment somewhere in Vinyl’s stomach. “Never again? But hey, she was really pretty…”
Octavia bared her lips in a snarl. “Never. Again. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading to sleep! Because some ponies actually need it!’”
She turned and stormed out of the room without a second thought.
After a few minutes of confusion, Vinyl decided to follow her example. After all, what Octavia had said was true. Ponies did need their sleep. And she, Vinyl Scratch, most successful DJ in all of Canterlot, needed to sleep on Harmony’s words. She’d figure out what to do in the morning.
You ought to consider being more like her. It might do you some good.
This was the part that had confused her the most.
Be like Octavia? The doormat that occasionally stood up for herself, who loved to be fancy and play her cello, who was a social butterfly at fancy events that she herself never even dreamed of attending? She didn’t have any troubles at the bar, or come home drunk and covered in bruises from fighting yet another pony. She never got confused over nothing, or wanted to hit on any pretty mare that she saw. She was just…Octavia.
Why did that sound like such a good idea all of a sudden?
Vinyl sighed. She did need sleep. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift away to the world of no dreams, restless tossing and turning, and relentless indecisiveness.
Her decision had been made in her sleep. It wasn’t a smart one – it was very rash, very Vinyl-ish, very poorly timed to spring upon poor Octavia as she sat at the morning table casually sipping her coffee. She looked up as her roommate approached and waited for Vinyl to speak.
“Is it alright if we mind-swap personalities for a day?”
Octavia did a spit-take there and then.
Stats
Page generated in 0.018 seconds
Total duration
1,146 users online
1,831,417 hits today, 2,364,530 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I see serious laugh potential here. Continue please!
This...this has potential to be awesome...
This sounds similar to another story I've read, but this does sound promising in it's own rights. Eh, I'll give it a shot.
3493064>>3493097
Thanks, both of you! I hope you enjoy what I have planned!
3493361
Link, please? I'd like to read it and make sure the similarities will vanish in later chapters, considering what I'm going to be writing about compared to their writing.
Also, thank you for reading!
Looks promising, can't wait to see where it goes from here
3494547>>3493361
He may be talking about Changing Hooves, but I could be wrong (plus, other than them swapping bods, they don't seem too similar). Another good bod swap is A Change of Venue (it is Twilight/Trixie, not Octavia/Trixie).
This was pretty good. Have my star. I await plenty more. Saw a few errors, but just small grammar nazi things.
I have a question: Harmony said 'Mares that start fights aren't allowed in the club'. So stallions can start a fight and stay?
Interesting. I've seen a lot of Vinyl/Octavia stories before, but none that make them change their own personalities. There's a difference between body-swapping and changing how you behave on a fundamental level, and you seem to have set the stage up to take advantage of that very well. Besides which, seeing Vinyl speaking prim, proper English and Octavia behaving like some wild child is more than enough to pique my interest! Can't wait to see what you've got planned here!