• Published 1st Jun 2014
  • 2,409 Views, 20 Comments

DJ Octavia - Hopeful_Ink_Hoof

Octavia tries to fill in as DJ for a sick Vinyl

  • ...

In The Club

This is not good. This is most assuredly not good. In point, it is bad. Incredibly bad. I do not see a way that this shall end well, and I cannot believe that I put myself into this foolish situation to begin with.

In the green room of The Neon Flank stood Octavia. Although "stood" was relatively inaccurate. She had spent most of the time pacing around the room. Her normally well-kept mane had become frazzled from fiddling with it, strands sticking out and unkempt angles. On the counter in front of the mirror laid her bow tie and collar. It really did not seem like appropriate disc-jockey attire. Then again, Octavia was not what could be considered an appropriate DJ.

"If worse comes to worst, I shall fill in for you," I said. I did not actually think that worse would actually come to worst. I most assuredly never expected that the manager would actually be willing to accept the offer and allow me to play in place of an experienced DJ.

She let out a groan and rubbed at her head again.

"I've seen you working with your equipment quite a number of times," I said. "I'm certain that I can figure it out sufficiently to entertain a club for one night" I said. I have never actually worked with her equipment. Why did I even say that?!

Octavia closed her eyes and straightened up.

Okay, Octavia. Calm down and collect yourself.

She took several deep breaths and slowly let them out. With each exhalation, she could feel herself regaining self-control, becoming calmer, and collecting her thoughts.

Good now think. What is the worst possible case scenario? You cause Vinyl's equipment to somehow explode, destroying a portion of the club and injuring -- if not killing -- numerous ponies including yourself. So if we make it through this alive, and nothing explodes that is not supposed to, then we can consider this evening... not a complete failure. So I now have a minimum benchmark.

There was a knock at the door, breaking her concentration. Before she could respond, the door was opened.

"Miss Octavia?" the new arrival asked. "Here's the lost and found box."

"Thank you," Octavia said as she took the box. "I'll be sure to return anything from it that I borrow." The pony gave a nod and shut the door leaving the gray mare alone once more.

Octavia began to look through the lost and found, trying to find some items that she could use for her impromptu disc-jockey identity. After all, a prim and proper cellist hardly seemed like the type that would be of interest to a group of club-going ponies with an affinity for electronic style music. As such, she was going to try and borrow some items and see if she could get a look she liked that seemed more appropriate for the scene.

There were some wallets, but they would not really be of much use. It also left her wondering why the owners never came back for them. She found some ...items that stallions would more than likely regret losing if they were able to take any mares home. Hopefully, those stallions had some extras just in case. Still not useful for what she needed. Then again, since she was with Vinyl, she had no need for them at all.

Octavia found some hats, glasses, and even a few neck ties. This last one made her reconsider her bow tie. Perhaps it was not as out of place as she originally thought.

She suddenly had an idea. It was not quite appropriate for the club scene, but it was too interesting for her to pass up. Grabbing her collar and bow tie, she quickly put them back into place. From the lost and found box, she grabbed a black fedora and a pair of sunglasses, putting them on. She checked her appearance out in the mirror.

Oh, Celestia, she thought. I look like I belong in The Mafia or something. With a sigh, she tossed the hat and glasses back into the box.

I guess I shall simply go out there as myself.

Octavia took one last moment to collect herself, and pray to any being that would listen that she would not utterly humiliate herself tonight. With that done, she left the green room and made her way toward the DJ booth. Ponies were already make their way in and hanging out around the tables.

"Mare and stallions," the manager called out from the stage, "are you ready to get this club slammin'?" There was a roar and the sound of hooves stamping on the ground. "Now I have some bad news: DJ Pon-3 is unable to perform for you tonight." This was immediately followed by a series of boos. "But don't worry, we're not going to let you down. So, please welcome our guest DJ for tonight."

The booing had put Octavia on edge, suddenly uncertain that they would approve of her regardless of how well she was able to perform since she was not Vinyl. Fortunately there was just as much cheering for her when she had been introduced.

Smiling, she made her way into the booth and up to the microphone.

"What is..." she stopped as the microphone did not seem to pick up her voice. A nervous chuckle escaped her as she realized that it was not on. After searching to find the switch, she turned it on.

The ear piercing screech of electronic feedback filled the air of the club. Octavia gritted her teeth as the noise clawed through her nerves. She finally managed to hit the switch again, cutting off the noise. The metallic ringing slowly faded from her ears, letting her hear the grumbles of some of the ponies. She grinned as she turned down the volume before switching the microphone back on.

"That..." she thought a moment. "That was a demonstration from my upcoming new experimental album... Electronic Pain." She gave a chuckle, thinking herself clever. Unfortunately, she heard no other laughter. Octavia wiped at her forehead, feeling a bit of sweat on it.

"Anyway, what is up, my ponies? I am your entertainment for the night. You can call me... uhm..."

Name. She needed a name. She probably should have thought of that before coming out.

"DJ..." She looked down at her coat. "Grey..." It suddenly came to her "Gr-8 Note. Yes, that's it. I am DJ Gr-8 Note." She grinned, feeling quite proud of herself.

"So, are you ready to kick off this part a?"

There was no response.

"Well..." she looked down at the equipment in front of her. "Let us get to it then." She hit the button that she was pretty sure started the machine playing. The record players started to spin.

No music came from the speakers.

Because Octavia had not put on any records.

Were there any records? Octavia had not even thought about that. She thought that all the music was stored electronically. Now she either had to find the records, or figure out how to access the electronic storage. Bending down, she looked under the table that held the turntables. It was a relief when she discovered a box. Grabbing the first one, she pulled it out. Removing the record from the sleeve, she set it down and put the arm down to start the music.

A massive boom exploded from the speakers, knocking Octavia off her hooves. There was a cheer from the crowd as a heavy bass line began to pulse and throb with the start of the music. The ponies started to fill the dance floor, finally able to have some fun.

Octavia let out a groan of pain and annoyance. Slowly, she managed to get back up to her hooves and get back into her position at the booth. The mare grabbed the headphones and put them on, then got the box and started looking to see what records there were.

I wonder if the club allows their performers to enjoy some of their stronger beverages while on duty.