Set Adrift: Three Musicians! The Supernatural Supreme!
Octavia trudged down the Canterlot streets. The saddle bag on her left side sagged to the ground and its straps dug into her back. The moth eaten spine of a tome poked of the bag and slapped back and forth when Octavia took too large of a lunge forward. A dull ache had formed at the back of her head by the time she reached her house. Her hoof fidgeted through the saddle bag on her right and she produced her keys after a moment. She lurched through the door and let her bags thud onto the floor.
A skeleton had its afroed skull pressed up against a wall. Its tattered suit fluttered beside its aged bones. Thanks to its rigid posture, the skeleton formed a perfect forty-five degree angle with the ground. It would have been right at home in a haunted house when it turned its skull toward Octavia.
“Oh, Ms. Octavia,” Brook hummed. “Welcome back.”
Without proper alignment, Brook’s head slipped down the wall. Octavia winced when he crashed to the ground. His hips remained raised, twisting Brook into a macabre triangle.
“Yohohoho! If what you say about flanks on this island is true, this must be quite the hipnotic position! If I had a flank! Yohohoho!”
Octavia shook her head but managed to smile. “Glad to see you’re feeling good. Did you find anything while I was out?”
“Not even a scrap, but I quite enjoyed those daffodil sandwiches Ms. Vinyl left.” Brook stood up and shook off the dust from the crash. His attention turned to the tome sticking out of Octavia’s bag. “Oh, but it seems you’ve got something that might help.”
“Took a bit of digging through the Royal Library, but I think I’ve found your best bet to getting home.” Octavia bent down and lifted the bags back onto her back with a huff. “Let’s take it over to the table and compare it with everything else we’ve got so far.”
Brook and Octavia left the entrance hall and made their way into the living room. The far side of the room held a faint glow from old glow sticks, lava lamps, and turntables of all shapes and sizes. The side Brook and Octavia entered from was lined with books, sheet music, and a set of plush chairs the enclosed a mahogany tea table. Said table brimmed with maps, weather logs, and nautical charts. Brook made some space on the table and Octavia placed the book down and opened it up.
Equestria’s northwestern coast stretched from page to page. Bold letters spelled out “Vanhoover” over a large dot while regular script labeled the other towns that marked the coast. A series of dashes extended out of the towns and into the sea. Yet no line went more than a few leagues before arcing back around to the shore. This left the upper left corner of the map and the seas it portrayed free for a sea serpent with an octopus-styled mustache to bob up and down over the stylistic waves.
“It’s a long-shot, but I think Vanhoover might be your best shot.” Octavia pressed a hoof against the pages. “Take a look though.”
Brook peered closer to the page. His sockets went up to the other materials scattered around the table every now and then. He hummed while he worked and only stopped when he clenched a pen between his teeth and scribbled into a notepad. After some time, he stopped humming completely and turned to Octavia.
“My, this island truly is quite isolated,” said Brook. “It’ll take a few thousand leagues to get back but at least I won’t have to worry about dying of boredom! Because I’m already dead! Yohohoho!”
“You’re sure?” Octavia asked.
“Oh quite,” Brook replied. “I may not have been a navigator while alive, but you’d be surprised how many skills you pick up once you die.”
“I’ll take your word on it…” Octavia sighed. “Land past Equestria? Living Skeletons? On Friday, I’d have thought myself a loon.”
Brook shut the book and his notepad. “Well, enough of this for the day.”
“But what about getting up to Vanhoover? Or getting a boat?” Sweat formed on Octavia’s brow. “Even if you could scrounge up the bits, it’d ta—”
Brook laid a skeletal hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “Ms. Octavia, don’t worry too much about it. You’re right, I have no bits or even a berry to my name… well, I suppose I have my bounty but I doubt that’d do any good. I guess I shall do as pirates do and plunder my way up to the coast.”
“Sounds like something out of a ghost story,” said Octavia.
“I suppose it will be quite a bone-chilling adventure! Yohohoho!” Brook pressed his skull a little closer to Octavia’s face. “Now, while I may have no cash on me, it’s time to pay you back at least.”
~~~
A few ponies stopped beside Octavia’s house and listened. It wasn’t uncommon in this quarter of Canterlot to hear suites, beats, jams, tunes, and every other variant of music you could find in Equestria. On a lucky day, a pony could experience the beginnings of a symphony from one house, an early preview of the next pop hit from another, and the last notes of a winding guitar solo from a third. As of late though, ponies listened sharply to Octavia’s house in particular, taking in the lively duet while their imaginations danced and tried to perceive the scene within the house. The vision of such a young and talented mare as Octavia finding an equal sent the Canterlot mares’ hearts aflutter and their mouths flapping.
The shrill shriek of a bow grinding against strings quieted both.
“Darn it!” Octavia cursed.
The bow fell out of her grip and she collapsed into the chair behind her. Her cello leaned against her with its strings splitting the ends of her mane. She pressed her head against its side and sighed.
Brook unclenched the violin from his neck and set it and the bow down. “Oh dear. Ms. Octavia, are you okay?”
Octavia kept her head bowed. “No. The tempo’s all wrong! It’s the same as all the others!”
“Well, don’t fret, you’ve been able to handle the pickups quite well.”
“Everything after that becomes a mess though!” Octavia raised her head and glared at Brook. “It’s not even like a pony is playing!”
Octavia then slumped back into her seat. The steady beat of a metronome filled the room.
“Well, I am from quite a distance away,” Brook said after a moment. “And I suppose shanties never quite picked up here.”
“What am I going to do?” Octavia sniffled.
Brook placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Ms. Octavia, you are being far too harsh on yourself. Your compositions are grand and capture a classical tranquility that rival some of the fairest symphonies from my home. My music is but simple sailor songs that help the long days at sea pass by.”
“They’re so lively and warm,” Octavia sighed. “My manager was right. My music is lacking. So formal. So orderly.”
“And what is wrong with that?” Brook peered at Octavia, the empty space in his sockets sending a chill down her spine. “Music holds the very soul of its composer. To go against it would be a betrayal of one’s life. Music takes time and effort to change just as it takes time for a pony to grow. Has your manager forgotten that?”
Octavia glanced to the side. “He doesn’t care about that. All that matters is getting an audience.”
“Really?” Brook corked his skull to the side. Octavia felt his gaze shift from her over to the table with all the maps and books. “Yohoho! Then I think I may have a plan that will suit us both and hopefully give you the time to come up with new and even better music!”
~~~
Golden Record laid his hooves down on his desk and summoned up a well-practiced smile. The door to his office creaked open and Octavia stepped inside. Heavy bags rested under her eyes and sweat dotted her clammy forehead. Record’s smile widened a bit. Negotiations went smoother when clients were on edge.
From behind his glasses, he blinked with DJ Pon-3 stepped in after Octavia. She was lacking her signature headphones and glasses, but still retained the contagious grin known for spreading amongst party-goers throughout Equestria. It seemed like the last line of defense between a chuckle trying to escape her mouth. The two mares made their way over to his desk and took seats across from him.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Record mused. “Not an unwanted one though. I assume you bringing Ms. Scratch here is a part of your new performance, eh, Octavia?”
“Part of it,” Octavia muttered. She took a deep breath and then glared at Record. “I have a new tour planned as well along the coast up to Vanhoover.”
“Oh?” Record corked his head to the side. “Well, it is the season. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What exactly have you brought to the table?”
Octavia produced a stack of sheet music and pushed it over to Record. He took it in and flipped through it while the clock ticked away. Behind his shades, his eyes widened, but he maintained his polished smile and kept the rest of his face still. When he reached the final page, he set the sheets down.
“Astounding, Octavia. This music is like nothing I’ve ever seen before and I can tell you’ve accounted for Ms. Scratch here to chime in too for a few melodies. As for the duets, I’m sure we can find somepony.” He placed his hooves back in front of him. “Now we’ll still need a way to make this look fresh and new. I have a few ideas I think might work.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Octavia smirked. “My partner will dictate this performance’s appearance.”
“Hmmm.” Record mulled over Octavia’s words. “Well, I know Ms. Scratch can attract an audience with her looks, but I think we want something that’s a bit..."
Record trailed off. Fog was curling up his legs and drifting into the room from the outer hall. There was a flash and the blinds were pulled shut, throwing the room into darkness. Record lit up his horn and found that Octavia and Vinyl had vanished from their seats.
“Okay,” Record chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe not the most unique intro, but I’ll see where this goes.”
“Then prepare yourself,” Octavia’s voice echoed. “You forced a terrible choice on me and now it’s time we paid the price.”
“Well, that’s entertainment for you,” said Record.
Silence greeted Record. He snorted and sank into his chair. A chill flowed into the room and made him shiver. He moved to lift a coat from a nearby rack but stopped when a blue flame appeared out of the darkness. It bobbed up and down and a green one soon joined it. More and more flames appeared until a dim glow was cast on the office and the figure that now stood in the middle of it.
Cloaked in a robe as pitch as night, it would have gone unnoticed in the prior darkness. The thick fog on the ground and the shadows cast by the flames kept the pony beneath hidden. Record glanced left and right and then back at the it.
“So is this like some Phantom gig?” he asked.
“Golden Record,” the figure moaned, sending goosebumps up Record’s legs, “you have perverted the realm of music with your greed. It’s showtime! Yohoho!”
The figure threw back its hood. A scream rose up from Record’s chest as the empty eye sockets and the eternal grin of an aged skeleton consumed his vision. A decayed hoof slammed down on his throat, catching the scream.
“G-get away!” Record yelped. “Security! Security!”
“Not enjoying the show?” Octavia hissed into Record’s ear.
“Stop this, Octavia!” Record screeched while feeling the skeleton’s hot rotten breath on his face. “I don’t know what magic you coaxed Vinyl into, but stop it!”
“Yohoho!” the skeleton cackled. “I’m afraid I’m far more than anything a unicorn could manage. I come to those in need of my services… for a price.”
“And I’ve already paid my end,” Octavia whispered. Record could feel her pressing up close to him. “Now it’s your turn.”
Sweat flooded Record’s face, forcing his shades to slip. “W-what?”
“The tour, I must have this tour,” the skeleton wailed. “More crowds, more screams, I must have them!”
“Yes, yes, whatever you want!” Record yelped.
The skeleton bent close. “And one last thing.”
“W-what?” Record asked, his breath streaming out like a cool mist.
“Your soul!” the skeleton cackled.
Record’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he crashed onto his desk.
~~~
Record shot up when he felt something nudging his side. He swung his head around. He was in in office with Octavia and Vinyl at his side. With a great sigh, he sunk into his chair, cold sweat leaving a damp imprint on it.
“Sir?” asked Octavia. “Are you alright? You passed out all of the sudden. We were about to get the medics.”
“Must… must be overwork,” Record huffed. He gave his head a shake and pushed his shades back. “We were discussing your performance, right?”
“Sir, I’m not sure now is the best time,” said Octavia. “I mean, I’m thrilled that you liked the music, but as for appearance, my new partner is a bit… unorthodox.”
Record stiffened. “Partner?”
“Yes.” Octavia bowed her head. “I’m afraid I’m not yet capable of giving a truly revolutionary performance on my own or even with Vinyl’s help. That’s why I was so glad I was able to find an incredibly skilled musician to help tutor me along the way. I know it’s not exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you’ll agree.”
Record tucked his chin. “Well, I’ll need to think about it and get a little rest, but I’m happy to see you took the initiative on this, Octavia. I do want to meet with this ‘partner’ of yours as well. Why don’t you run it by my secretary and we’ll arrange something.”
“Of course,” said Octavia.
The door then creaked open. Record’s pupils shrunk when the skeleton thrust its skull into a the office.
“Oh, what wonderful news!” Brook exclaimed. “Then we have a deal!”
Golden Record’s scream rang throughout Canterlot.
~~~
“This is gonna rock!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.
“I know,” Twilight said with wide smile. “It’s so rare for a classical musician to have a tour outside of Canterlot and the reviews have been amazing!”
“And the theatrics have been splendid,” Rarity added. She glanced down at the playbill resting on her lap. Stars swirled beneath the title and masked half of Octavia’s face. Behind her, a stylized skull rose up and loomed over her. “At least, so I’ve heard.”
“I don’t care what they play,” said Dash. “Anything is awesome if you add living skeletons to it.”
Twilight gave her head a playful shake. “Well, if it gets more ponies to enjoy classical music, I’m all for it… although I am a bit curious how they get that one musician to look so realistic. Nopony has been able to find even the slightest hint of a spell or stage props to it.”
“Don’t sweat it, Twi,” said Applejack. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to get his autograph after the show.”
The lights flashed three times and then went dark.
“Oooh!” Pinkie squealed. “It’s starting!”
“Yay,” Fluttershy murmured.
A single spotlight illuminated the center of the stage. Octavia stood beside her cello, eyes closed. Her bow shot across the strings and the notes echoed across through the building. More and more notes sprung from the cello as the tempo sped to a blinding pace. Everypony in the audience leaned forward in the seats, watching Octavia whip her leg and bow around in a blur. Then, the music came to a sudden halt right at its peak.
The audience erupted in chears.
Octavia moved her head closer to the mike. “Thank you all, everypony! It’s wonderful to be here in Ponyville!”
She paused and allowed the cheers to swell and then wane. While she waited, fog flowed onto the stage from the sides and the lone spotlight gave way to a starry backdrop.
“Welcome to the Neo-Classic Tour,” said Octavia. “It is a great honor to bring you the best in Equestrian Classical Music as well as new spins on the greats. We hope to show you a side of classical music you have never seen before!”
A sharp note sounded a violin and all eyes went up to a silhouetted figure on a raised platform.
“Gather up all of the crew, it’s time to ship out Binks’ brew,” a haunting yet pleasing tune rang from the platform. The crowd felt goosebumps on their skin as they let out another round of cheers.
“And it wouldn’t be possible without the grateful and skilled dead!” Octavia exclaimed.
A different spotlight came to life, revealing the skeleton perched atop the platform. With a violin still pressed against his neck he looked out at the ecstatic crowd. “Yohoho! Good evening, everypony!”
“Well…” Octavia readied her bow. “Shall we?”
~~~
“So awesome…” Dash murmured, her eyes glazed over and a wide grin plastered on her face.
“I know, right?” Pinkie leaned on Dash’s shoulder with glowsticks shimmering from her hooves and neck. “Now for the after-party with DJ Pon-3!”
Rarity rubbed one of her eyes. “I believe I’ve had my fill for the night. A mare must have her beauty sleep after all.”
“And on the other hoof, some of us have a busy day in the fields tomorrow,” said Applejack.
“And you know how my animals get if I’m gone too long,” Fluttershy murmured.
“No problemo!” Pinkie asked a hoof over her head and then draped it over Dash’s back. “Dashie and I will make sure to party hard enough for all six of us.”
Twilight took a step closer to Pinkie. “I think I can help out a little too.”
Pinkie’s grin widened. “Alright, Twilight! It’s been way too long since you’ve hit the dance floor.”
Dash gave her head a shake to clear it. A mischievous grin then came to her face. “Okay, this night just got a whole lot more interesting. You do know DJ Pon-3’s gigs are a bit energetic, right?”
Twilight watched ponies swarming en masse out of the concert and over to the nearby club. Light of all colors shot, swirled, and danced around the club while the bass from the mix table within reverberated out onto the streets.
“I think I can handle a little loud music.”
~~~
Twilight’s entire body throbbed with each beat from the loudspeakers. It felt like her brain was trying to escape out her ears or at least fill them up and block out the worst of the bombastic tune that never seemed to end. Every now and then DJ Pon-3 would speak into her mike but her voice was lost in the constant electronic cacophony and the ecstatic crowd. Pinkie would periodically look back at Twilight and mouth inaudible words to which Twilight would constantly bend her ear to hear, but Pinkie would just giggle and then go back to dancing. Dash hovered above the fray alongside other pegasi both out of reach and hearing range. The way the skeleton skipped through the air, barely avoiding stomping on somepony’s face was the cherry on the pandamonium.
Twilight’s drinks from concerts eventually hit her. With a sigh, she managed to wiggle a hoof over to Pinkie. When Pinkie turned to her, Twilight jabbed another hoof at the neon lavatory sign plastered to one side of the club. Pinkie utterer something and gave her a nod. Twilight took a deep breath and then began her trek through the thick sea of partygoers.
After a lot of hustling and bustling, followed by waiting in a sizeable line, Twilight emerged from the bathroom. The music still shook the entire building, but in the little hallway Twilight could at least hear her own thoughts. She scooted out of the way of the other ponies and leaned against a wall near an emergency exit. While she caught her breath, she stared up and down the hallway, taking in the two bathrooms before setting her sights on the third door in front of her with a silver plate reading “Staff Only” on it. A sheepish grin crept across Twilight’s face.
“Just a little peek might give me a clue to how he does it,” she murmured to herself.
She inched over to the door and lit up her horn. A strong charm pushed her magic away from the lock. Her brow furrowed and the glow around her horn grew stronger. There was a hiss and a pop that made Twilight flinch, but the music and the crowds masked her and the newly opened door. She took a breath and slipped inside.
The green room was like stepping into another world. The thickly padded walls turned the blaring tunes into distant rumbles, and the posh furniture and carpeting stood in contrast to the aged walls and rough floor outside. Twilight took a few steps while admiring the room and then froze.
The skeleton was strewn over a sofa, suit sinking in between its ribs and draped over its lower spine. A large bubble dangled out its nasal cavity and waxed and waned. Twilight tilted her head and squinted her eyes at it.
“Hmmm, now to find out how they do it.” Twilight’s horn lit up again. He looks like he’s asleep, but why would a pony need to keep up a spell while resting? Maybe it really is an elaborate pro—
Twilight stiffened but her skin crawled. The small spell she had sent out was responding to the skeleton. Stomach acid gurgled, lungs swelled and sank, and a heart pumped out blood. All signs of a healthy pony. Except for the cold the gripped all these bodily functions and now clasped onto Twilight too. The skeleton— this thing— should be dead but some force kept a perversion of life clinging to the bones.
A scream welled up in Twilight’s throat when the thing’s eyes opened, even though the physical ones had long rotted away. It blinked and then turned to Twilight.
“Yohoho! A dedicated fan?” Brook exclaimed. He lept up and pressed closed to Twilight. The faint scent of decay hung over him. “I suppose you want an autogra—”
Twilight’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she crashed to the ground.
~~~
Brook, Octavia, and Vinyl all stared out at the sea. The waves lapped at the cliff-face far below them while the wind shot upwards and rustled their manes. The sinking sun outlined the far-off buildings of Vanhoover in shadow.
“This has definitely been the best tour I’ve done,” said Vinyl. She grinned at Brook. “I’m gonna have a hard time coming up with something to top this.”
Octavia glanced at the ground. “Yeah…”
“Oh ladies, you’re both talented mares, I’m sure your music will only continue to improve and enchant audiences across this land! Yohohoho!” Brook leaned a little closer. “You especially, Ms. Octavia. I dare say if he hadn’t run into me first, my captain would have tried his hardest to get you on the crew.”
Octavia blushed a little. “I think that’s saying a bit much, Brook. There’s still so much I have to learn, so many so—”
A slight tremor cut her off. A shadow flashed from the corner of her eye. The trio grew tense. Guttural hisses sounded from all sides. Brook bent his skull towards the cane dangling from his coat.
“Stay close, ladies. It seems we have some uninvited gue—”
A sharp crack sounded in the night. Brook’s knees gave out and he crumped onto Octavia and Vinyl. Massive paws seemed to come out of nowhere and came down on Octavia and Vinyl’s heads.
~~~
“We see it.”
“Simple tricks that even we could do.”
“Bone-pony moved and sung.”
“Don’t try and play with us. Give us some proof when it wakes up.”
Octavia opened her eyes. She seized up feeling something pressed up against her mouth, but relaxed when she was able to take a breath through her nose. Her forelegs were pressed close to her side sides while her hindlegs were locked beside each other. A glance down revealed rope binding her and a stained cloth gagging her muzzle.
She glanced to the left and spotted Vinyl a few feet away also bound and gagged. The glare in eyes combined with the dim lighting gave them a malevolent ruby hue. Her expression softened when she turned to Octavia.
A large diamond dog plopped in between the two and snorted at Octavia. She tried to gag, but the cloth prevented her. It held up Brook, also bound and gagged, and rattled him in front of her before it reached out with its free paw and pulled the cloth away from Octavia’s mouth. “Horn-pony not want to talk. Tell us how Bone-pony move. Buyer want now.”
Octavia peered to the right. Three diamond dogs stood with frowns across their faces. Their arms were crossed over their chests but then sloped down to the floor as if they had a second set of elbows. A tiny clack drew Octavia back to the hulking dog in front of her. Another clack brought her attention down to Brook’s right hindleg. It protruded to the side, just enough for her to notice it pointing to the left.
Octavia looked over and spotted Vinyl’s glasses and earphones resting against the wall alongside piles of gems. Brook’s cane rested alongside them as well as Octavia’s cello and the spare instruments Brook employed.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” one of the odd limbed dogs muttered. “Ponies alone are enough of a risk.”
“Wait!” the large dog said. He turned and snarled at Octavia. “Pony will tell us how Bone-pony works. Now!”
“T-the cane,” said Octavia. “You have to put the cane in its hooves.”
A grin spread across the dog’s face, showing off its misaligned fangs. “Good pony.”
The dog dropped Brook to the ground and bounded over to the treasure trove. It clasped the cane and then darted back over to Octavia. It bent down, untied Brook, and shoved the cane onto his hooves. It was quiet as everyone peered down at him.
“Bone-pony still not move,” the dog snarled.
“That’s it, we’re leaving,” one of the odd limbed dogs huffed.
The trio turned around and came face to face with Brook. They all shrieked and jumped back. Brook raised up his sword with the cane-end looped around his hoof and leveled it at them.
“I’m afraid, I can’t allow that.” Brook advanced a closer while the dogs backed up. “My friends and I have a concert to perform tonight and now you’ve made us late.”
“Darn Bone-pony!” snapped the dog beside Octavia. “You trick us!”
It growled and then leapt off the ground. In mid-air a force slammed into its gut and sent it flying back. It crashed into the treasure trove in a shower of gems. Brook stared at the unmoving dog for a moment before turning his glare back on the trio. All three’s coats were now thick with sweat.
“Now what to do with you,” Brook mused.
“P-please!” one of them pleaded. “We’re j-just doing business! Spare us!”
Brook turned his head up. The trio let out a collective sigh when he slid the blade back into the cane, but tensed up again when Brook extended his hooves and pulled them in close.
“If you promise to never come back here, you’re free to go, but if you break that promise…” Brook let out a long breath so that the scent of decay washed over the dogs. “I’ll haunt you for all eternity!”
All three dogs yelped and then scurried out of the room as fast as they could. The tunnels that led out of the room echoed with the sounds of them tumbling over each other. Brook sighed and made his way over to Octavia and Vinyl. He first went over to Vinyl and pulled off her gag before getting to work on the ropes.
“Oh, what a shame that our final show will be cut short,” he fretted.
“Who cares about that?” Vinyl exclaimed. “When were you gonna tell us you’re also some kind of master swordspony?”
Brook tilted his skull to the side. “Hmmm, I suppose the topic wouldn’t come up naturally. Suffice to say, music isn’t my soul talent. Yoho—”
A rock cracked against Brook’s skull and he fell to the ground. One of the odd limbed dogs sneered down at Brook and then at Octavia and Vinyl. His cohorts cackled.
“As if we’d believe such superstitious crap,” the dog snickered. “But thanks for taking care of the dumb mutt for us! Now we’ll take the gems and we’ll get three new attractions!”
Before either Octavia or Vinyl could say anything, the dogs gagged them again and hefted them over their shoulders. They could only watch as they bound Brook as well and were carried off into the tunnels. The cave’s darkness briefly gave way to small torch-lit alcoves and branches every now and then, but most of the journey was in shadow. Yet the dogs plowed on for what seemed like hours until eventually sleep took hold of Octavia.
When she next awoke, Octavia found herself still bound but the gag had been removed. The wooden planks beneath her creaked and wobbled, making her stomach roil. The air had a clammy texture to it and made her nose bristle with how salty it was. She felt something brush against her side and found Vinyl slumped against her. When the floor beneath her bobbed, she spotted waves cresting just over the rim of wherever she had awoken.
Her eyes shot away from the sea and to the skeleton strapped to the other side of the boat. Its suit resembled the one she’d picked up for Brook in Canterlot but now it had shifted to match the skelton’s ape-like build. Her breath caught at the sight of the afro atop its skull.
“Brook?” she gasped.
“Oh, Ms. Octavia, you’re awake.” Brook lowered his skull. “Forgive me, it seems we’ve been spirited away.”
“But you… where...” Octavia turned her head to the sky and groaned. “What’s going on?”
“Noisy little thing, ain’ ya?”
Octavia froze. A creature like a hairless monkey rounded a corner and made its way over to Octavia. It raised up its triple jointed arm and scratched its head— the only place aside from its pointy mustache where it appeared to have hair. The grin it gave Octavia made her skin crawl.
“You’re going to make us quite the celebrities,” it mused.
~~~
“Why aren’t they doing anything?” the mustachioed long-arm growled.
From behind a ratty curtain, he glared at the cage. Octavia and Vinyl sat beside each other trading glances while Brook sat with the morning’s paper clasped in his hands. Beyond them, the crowd was grumbling and a few were walking away.
“What a gyp.”
“You can get mini-horses anywhere.”
“That horn is so glued on.”
“You’re sure you can’t use a spell to get us out of here?” Octavia whispered to Vinyl.
“Yeah, there’s something funky about the stuff the lock is made of,” said Vinyl.
For the first time since Brook had received the paper, he moved and looked up. He shot to his feet and then fell upon the bars. “Forty Degrees!”
“Ah! It moved!”
“It talked!”
“That horn still looks fake!”
Brook slid the ground while the crowd grew lively and picked himself up. He made his way over to Octavia and Vinyl. “Ms. Scratch, Ms. Vinyl, it appears my plans have changed a bit. So, I’ll work as hard as I can to get you both back home… until then though, it seems we will have time to work on our music.”
“But our instruments…” Octavia sighed.
“Instruments?” the mustachioed long-arm turned his head to the side. His eyes then widened and he straightened up. “Wait! Wait! Just a moment!”
He snapped his fingers and her cohorts rushed off. They returned, gasping for breath, a moment later with all of Octavia and Vinyl’s equipment in hand. Like apes, they used their triple-jointed arms to climb to the top of the cage using the bars and then lowered the instruments down through a small latch.
Brook stared over the instruments for a moment. Rather than the violin, he took up a guitar and strummed it. He then looked back to Octavia and Vinyl. “It may not be an ideal show, but what matters is that your music comes from the soul and strikes your audience to the bone! So let’s give it our best!”
Vinyl flicked on her glasses and smiled. “Why not? If you’ve got the tunes then you’ve got to jam!”
Octavia remained seated for a moment. The audience of bizarre creatures laughed and pointed their elongated arms at her. She recalled often seeing foals do the same thing at zoos or when a stagemare embarrassed herself for entertainment. Bone and a flapping suit obscured them. Brook stood before her and held out a hand.
“Shall we, Ms. Octavia?”
Octavia took a deep breath and clasped Brook’s hand. “Let’s give these things a performance like they’ve never seen before!”
◆◆◆
3D2Y
An unprecedented crowd swarmed around the Shabondy Concert Hall. Even the viewings of the Paramount War were dwarfed by the sheer scale of people clamoring to get inside that already packed Hall. Posters of all sizes plastered the Hall’s outer walls and massive versions of it hung above the entrances where guards held the crowds at bay.
A glistening skull bedecked in an afro, a crown, and heart-shaped shades dominated the left side of the poster and sung upwards toward the heavens. On the right side stood a grey-skinned woman that glowed with a radiant aura while she clasped various instruments with multiple sets of hands. Finally, in the background towered some sort of mechanical giant with a woman that had skin as white as snow and horse-like ears poking out above her crimson glasses piloting it. Waves radiated off the machine giving the poster a prismatic color scheme. Bold letters lined the top and bottom of the poster:
Final Live
The Supernatural Supreme
“The tickets are sold out!” a guardsman proclaimed once more. His stern expression softened when one of the younger attendees teared up. “Hey, hey, no need to cry. Soul King may be retiring, but the others will still be on tour.”
“But it won’t be the same!” the attendee bawled.
~~~
Brook leaned back in his chair and strummed his guitar. Vinyl was in the corner bathing herself in an illusion spell, so he turned to Octavia. Octavia let got of the arm she was stretching behind her back and let it rest beside the other two on the right side of her body, three more arms rested on her left side. Like Vinyl once her spell was complete, pony ears still stuck out of her head and a tail brushed against her silken dress.
“Let’s make this the greatest concert ever!” Brook exclaimed.
“Right!” said Octavia.
Vinyl smiled while hands and feet replaced her hooves and the human disguise raced up her body. In a flash, the spell finished off, leaving a relatively human Vinyl resting on the green room sofa. She snatched up her glasses and her headphones and stood up. “Let’s do this.”
The three of them took their positions behind the lowered curtain. Already, the crowd’s cheers were deafening. While Vinyl disappeared down a set of stiars, Brook and Octavia made their way to the middle of the stage. Octavia was about to continue up to the raised platform on the left but Brook latched onto her shoulder.
“Octavia, you’re sure about this? I may need to get a little forceful, but I’m sure I can get the information out of the manager.”
Octavia smiled and shook her head. “I really can’t believe it’s already been two years. They’ve been really fun, but you’re right, I would like to go home…” She raised her head up. “I also wanna prove that the Supernatural Supreme will still have soul even without you.”
“Yohohoho! That’s the spirit!” Brook gave a test strum of his guitar that sent the crowd beyond the curtain into a frenzy.
Octavia lept up to her station and began tapping on the drums to get a beat going. At the same time, she picked up a violin and bow with two more of her hands. As the curtain rose, fog spilled over the stage and Vinyl emerged from below with her mix station aglow with magic. A smooth electronic beat joined Octavia and Brook’s playing, fusing into an ethereal opening number that drew all who heard it into an ecstatic revelry.
“We’ve worked ourselves down to the bone for this day!” Brook proclaimed to the roaring crowd. “Let’s make this the best anniversary ever!”
~~~
“Encore! Encore!” the crowd cried out.
A round of gunfire turned their cheers into screams. Everyone spun around to the exits where a platoon of Marines had appeared and blocked them off.
“Stop right there!” the captain of the platoon boomed. “This concert is hereby canceled!”
“What?” came multiple shrieks from the audience.
Brook stood frozen on stage while a cold sweat crept up Octavia and Vinyl’s skin.
“Replacement Captain of the Rumbar Pirates, also know as Humming Swordsman Brook!” the captain bellowed and waved around a wanted poster of a somewhat familiar man in shades with a massive afro. “You are suspected of being a pirate worth a bounty of thirty-three million berries! On top of that, we have information that you’re one of the Straw Hats! ‘Soul King’ Brook… that is, Brook the pirate, you’re under arrest!”
Octavia abandoned her station and drew closer to Brook. “This isn’t good.”
“You’re right about that.”
Brook and Octavia turned toward where their manager and his cohorts were advancing onto the stage. All of them held their guns but only the manager kept his pistol trained on Brook.
Octavia scowled. “I should have known. You’d put my old boss to shame.”
“Quiet, you damn packmule!” the manager shouted. He glared at Brook. “I knew something was up when you made this our final stop. I was hoping by ‘final’ you meant you’d ditch these two freeloaders and go solo.”
“Quite the contrary, manager,” said Brook. “Octavia and Vinyl are both skilled musicians that have brought a new wave of music to the masses and I’ve been proud to stand by their side. It appears you think differently though.”
“Damn straight!” The manager pulled back on the pistol’s hammer. “Your popularity is still rising! Without you, this act is meaningless. We’ll get more selling off these broodmares at the slave auction! You’ve betrayed us, Brook, so let’s all finish this to—”
A blast of white hot energy swirling with blue aura engulfed the manager and his cohorts and tore across the concert hall. Everyone hit the floor and cowered for a moment before looking up and seeing that a large hole had been punched clear through the opposite end of the hall and not a sign of the manager or his cohorts was left on the stage. Vinyl bent over her mix station and blew some smoke out of the massive cannon that had emerged from it.
“It really is a shame,” she mused, “if he’d paid more attention, maybe he’d have noticed the modifications. Oh well, I’m sure the audience enjoyed that at least, am I right?”
A wave of cheers and applause responded to her. Another round of gunfire silenced them.
“Vinyl ‘DJ Pon-3’ Scratch!” the captain barked. “Your actions just now constitute aiding and abetting a known criminal and I’m assuming discharge of a deadly weapon! You’re under arrest as well!”
Octavia stepped forward and glared at the marines. “You’ll be taking me in as well then. We’ve stood by Brook for two long years and we won’t abandon him now!”
Brook reached out and laid a hand on Octavia’s shoulder. “I appreciate the sentiment, but jail is no place for such talented musicians, especially when a grand journey has just begun for you. Now if you would, could you and Vinyl prepare yourselves? It’s time for the grand finale of our wonderful little band!”
“Of course.” Octavia smiled at Brook and wiped away some tears. She then vaulted back over to her station and picked up with an intro beat.
Brook brought his skull close to the mike. “It has been a long two years and this island holds memories of our defeat. It’s an island of regret, but also one of new beginnings. I’m sure it pains all of you, but this is where the Supernatural Supreme part ways! But fret not, dear fans! My duty is now to provide greater excitement to my crew’s adventures, but I have no doubt Ms. Octavia and Ms.Scratch will continue to bring joy across the seas!”
Brook paused to let the cheers quiet down and allow the audience near the back to advance on the Marines.
“As for Straw Hat Luffy? Dead? Ridiculous!” Brook let a piercing riff sound from his guitar. “Straw Hat Luffy is alive! He’ll be King of all the oceans! A calm, quiet departure doesn’t fit him at all! Oh baby!”
Octavia picked up the tempo. The beats pumping out of Vinyl’s setup grew in volume. Brook reeled back while his hand sped over the guitar at lightning speed.
“List to my last soul!” Brook proclaimed at the top of his voice. “And know that I’ll always be with the Supernatural Supreme in spirit!”
“You fool!” the captain roared while fans swarmed over him and his men. “This concert is can—”
Someone socked the captain right in the jaw as the music swelled. Brook summoned up all the force in his bones and sung with all his might, “To the New World!”
~~~
Vinyl and Octavia watched the large flying fish carrying Brook speed off into the groves and eventually vanished behind one of the massive trees. They then turned back to the chaos that had erupted in the Hall. Fans clashed against the Marines, but the latter’s training and their growing numbers were pushing the fans back.
“Looks like we’ll be making quite the exit,” said Octavia.
Vinyl pressed a few buttons on her setup and smiled. “Just imagine the press coverage we’ll get from this though. Pretty good start to us going solo, eh?”
“Well, we’ll have quite the groupies with the Marines on our tails,” Octavia commented. From beneath her station she picked up a staff, a sword, and a shield with the arms on her left side. Her skin shifted from grey to a dusty red, fangs poked out from her top and bottom sets of teeth, and she grew a bit taller and muscular. One of her right hands smoked with fire, another glistened with ice crystals, and the third buzzed with electricity.
“I still can’t believe the Manager never caught on to you swiping that fruit,” Vinyl chuckled.
“Well, I have a certain DJ friend to thank for that.” Octavia faced the crowd and the Marines. “We’ve got a whole lot of groves to get through to get to the ship.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Vinyl pulled a lever and her setup craned forward towards the mike. “Thank you all once again for coming! We’ll probably be on the run for a bit, but don’t worry, cause the Supernatural Supreme Mk. 2 will be starting its grand world tour soon! Thank you and goodnight!”
A burst of fireworks shot out of what had been massive speakers as the rest of Vinyl’s machine freed itself from the stage. Massive turrets extended down below the speakers and a variety of colorful cords stretched down from where Vinyl commanded everything and looped around the thick pillar-like legs that supported the mechanical behemoth.
“Arlight.” Vinyl secured her headphone to her ears. “Let’s do this.”
It is said that the only thing that matched the Supernatural Supreme’s sales charts after that day was their bounties.
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What fruit did she take? The OP OP fruit? Fangs Fire and Ice?
This was freakin b great but what fruit did Octavia eat?
7213794
7213669
Human-Human Fruit, Model: Asura
7213814 like How Sengoku had the human-human fruit model Buddha?
Octavia gets Shiva Muses, and Vinyl goes True Soundwave?
Power levels are confusing, but will take it as being you can have power, or detail, but not both, unless you dont care about extreme collateral damage?
So far you've shown us your human-pirate versions of Trixie, Twilight, Fluttershy, Rarity, Rainbow, Octavia and Vinyl. Are you planning something with them?
7213979 My power level is over 9!
... about 9.5.
Huh.
Great chapter, I love how brook worked with the two musicians and envcoprerated his scariniess to the show. Now if only you didn't repeat Brook's chapter near the end, ths would've been perfect.