The Subversive Scrolls

by Ponyess

Violin Meditation: 3

Author's Note:

Octavia's POV

”Hiya, Pinkie Pie!” I said, as I opened my door, only to find Pinkie outside.

I had heard somepony knock on my door, just never imagined it would be Pinkie Pie. Not this early in the morning. I like her, just as everypony does. I can't say I had anything against her. As it was said, her parties are the best. Even if I'm not on too many of them, either privately, or playing. I couldn't resent her for either.

“Hiya, Octavia. Nice to see you're up and about. For one, you're the one Pony I'm looking for. Knowing the quality of the music you play. It may be exactly what I need now, if you were about to practice?” she blurted out.

“You know I do practice most every day. If you like to listen, while I practice, this would be as good a time!” I responded.

I just nodded and led her in, as I walked to the small room in the back of my home, where I kept everything related to my music, including the Violin.

I did not make a point of noticing her odd make-up, or the strange suit she wore, or it is what I saw. I figured, she'd tell me, if she felt inclined and in the mood for talking. Slowly picking up the Violin, going over everything meticulously, true to my habit.

From there, I sat down, even if it is a small instrument, but she looked as if she wanted a long audience, with me and the Violin. That makes for a siting.

Once I sat down, I picked up the notebook, and chose a section, I was to practice. Somethng soothing, meditative, by her expression? I guess this was the most odd way of making somepony happy, but I'm not complaining. Sometimes it feels good to have someone listening, even if it is just practice. Someone who wasn't a critics, for that matter. Just a friend who lent an ear.

Then I went over the keys, fiddling until I was happy with the fine tuning of my instrument. From there, I practiced a few scales, just to get it right.

I looked up, only to face Pinkie, as she intently looked at me, and the Violin. I saw something bothered her, something she hoped would feel better, if I was playing for her? I could as well try. I'm a nice Pony.

I had had this room decorated, for acoustic purposes. That's Beesh wood panels, or it is what I had been told, when I had it done. I guess it makes for a good mood as well. Just as I couldn't complain, it does bring out the most of the Violin, so I'm happy. I like the crystal clear sound of the instrument I'm holding in my hands.

Once I had gotten to playing, I had faced out the world at large, the room is quiet, and the acoustics is prime. It is what I had asked for, what I paid all the bits for.

I feel the bow caressing the notes from the instrument. The music slowly filling the room. I apparently got the volume just right. Feeling the meditative sence filling me up, swallowing me whole. Maybe I could have seen what she was asking for, yet I was no longer in this world, but in the landscape of the music I play. I had chosen the music for the purpose, but still.

The room was not allowing anything, but the sounds of the strings mounted on my instrument. It so captivated the very soul. I am not a virtuoso for nothing. Not that I need to take pride, I merely accepted the prices. I'm well beyond pride, it is merely tripping my hooves, were I to give in as much as an inch.

I knew who I was, since the cutie mark had appeared, so many years ago.

Once I am in the grip of the music, my music, I could keep going for hours on end. I enjoy it, I enjoy playing, or why keep going?

As the time slipped by, quiet, short of the notes I play, enveloping me very soul, allowing me to see the room, if I were to open my eyes.

Several hours later, I slip the bow off of the violin, gasping at the quiet. First now I recall the Pink pony who was visiting me. She had apparently gotten caught up in the music, now siting quiet, motionless. The only sign of life, her chest rising and falling in tune with the music I had been playing, as if it had been the violin, willing her chest to rise?

Maybe now is the first time I had actually looked at her. I saw the suit she was wearing, but did not take notice of it as such. It isn't my place. I just hope she found what she asked for.

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Comments

[Serefin]

Okay, first of all, you committed one of the sins an author should NEVER do: you changed character perspective in a FIRST-PERSON STORY! The only time that's okay is when there's a warning, but because there WASN'T...

Secondly, is English even your first language? Or second or third, for that matter? Seriously, I'm almost crying over how BRUTALLY you've MURDERED grammar here!

Thirdly, what the hell is even going on? This story seems to be some sort of horrible mish-mash of words that somehow ended up in a semi-story-like form. It's okay to not reveal EVERYTHING about the plot, but when some one like me(who can usually figure out what's going on from the barest of clues) steps back and goes "What the fuck did I just read?", THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG.

[Ponyess]

3883121 I take it, you're not taking chapter divides for it?

it's second language, yes.

you do sound a bit on the Dramatic side.

without making a total 'Spoiler'; she's breaking in her 'Play Girl'.

I could make use of an Editor/Proof-Reader for the story, I can admit as much. now I just need to find one for this story.