Chapter 3: Collections
You descend the final stairs into the lobby and your nose is suddenly hit with an assault of mouth-watering breakfast smells. You and Octavia waste no time in trotting over to the dining room just off to the side.
Inside, you see other guests, either up at the morning buffet or sitting at the tables with their meals. A seafoam green hotel employee, shown by her red hat and uniform, behind an oak counter smiles and waves you over.
“Good morning!” she replies cheerfully with a nod, causing her light blue mane to bounce. “The two of you today?”
“Yes, from Room 213 under the name Octavia Philharmonica,” Octavia replies, turning to show her cutie mark for verification. Usual hotel protocol requires letting them get a copy of your cutie mark with a photograph or quick sketch for identification when you check in.
The employee lightly licks the tip of her hoof before opening her logbook and flipping through it. “And when did you check in?” she asks.
“Last night.”
“Okay now...” she mumbles, flipping through some more. Her hoof trails down the page as Octavia gives you another smile. You manage to calmly smile back, but on the inside you are dancing. How you could just wake up one day snuggling with a mare like Octavia and be having breakfast with her like it’s nothing?
You feel like you should be nervous at this moment, but you’re not. Maybe it was because you’ve known her as a friend for a while? Maybe it was because she shares your feelings? Maybe it was because your hangover was still a dull little ache in the back of your head?
Either way, the moment feels right. You can’t imagine anything ruining it.
“Um... ma’am?” the hotel employee calls out with concern.
Octavia turns back to the employee. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, um... the room is not under your name.”
“No?” she asks in disbelief. She turns to you as you feel a wave of panic go down your spine.
“Would it be under one of your bandmates?” you offer.
“That could... no, they’re not even here, yet.” She lets out an exasperated sigh.
Feeling a sense of dread welling up inside you, you think of something you can do. So, not only did you wake up drunk in a strange town, you might have woken up in a hotel room that wasn’t even yours. Oh no, Octavia’s things are still in there. How are you going to get them back?
You look up to try and give an explanation of some sort. You fail to find any words that may help explain yourself, but you do notice the employee looking back and forth between her book and your cutie mark.
“Everything...” the hotel worker begins. “...Alright?”
“Yeah... Oh!” you say, turning to show your cutie mark. “Is it under my name by chance?”
She looks from the book to your flank, to the book, to your flank again. Her smile renews, she gives a nod, and scribbles something on the page with a quill.
“Yep! Enjoy your meal,” she says.
Relief fills both you and Octavia as you thank her and you both begin to walk up to the breakfast buffet. Crisis averted.
As you walk you hear both of your stomachs growl loudly. No words need be said. The two of you look at each other and know. Food first, find seat afterwards. The two of you grab a couple of the red plastic trays and plates and go in separate directions.
You look at the carefully arranged displays of food. Marble countertops hold trays of edibles ready for the taking. Metal rails on each side make a convenient place to put your tray while you select your food. One counter is partially separated from the customers with glass. On the other side, hotel chefs prepare hot foods fresh.
She starts near the salad bar as you make your way towards the freshly made waffles she recommended. You take one waffle... no, make it two. Taking the knife from the butter, you scoop a bit up and spread it, where it already begins to melt over the warm flaky breakfast treat. Next, carefully drizzling the sweet maple syrup over them, the little container of chocolate chips catch your eye. You remember having something similar as a foal and pour a few into the little pockets to join the butter and syrup and- is that whipped cream? Well, you only live once!
A quick spray from the metal can tops your first dish with a light and fluffy layer. Unable to resist putting a little cherry on the rather childish looking cuisine, you then set off in search of further substance. Octavia has gone to the waffle bar herself as you pass by the omelets, the hiss of frying eggs hitting your ears and nose. You decide to go ahead and try, it certainly couldn’t hurt. You order a large one with cheese and extra peppers.
Finally making it to the healthier options, you take a bowl and begin filling it with fruit. Some orange slices here, a few grapes there, and you are impressed that they were able to have pineapple that looks this fresh. You take a couple wedges of that.
Making one more pass around the buffet, you also take a couple donuts, some simple wheat toast with butter, some country hay fries, and a big glass of orange juice. Looking at the amount of food on your tray, you realize that you are absolutely famished. Still, you can’t help but be a little embarrassed about your rather plentiful amount for a meal.
Until you see that Octavia had taken just about the same amount of food herself. Waffles with simple butter only, white toast, a small salad, hashbrowns, orange juice of her own, and two bowls of fruit, one containing entirely plums.
You two look to your own trays, and then to each others. Meeting eyes, you both give a little sheepish smile.
“I guess we’re both hungry,” she says.
You simply nod before looking around the tables for a good spot to sit. Against the far wall is a row of small tables each built for two against a large window to a beautiful day outside. Walking towards one of the tables, Octavia follows, the two of you needing to weave between a couple other guests.
Upon reaching the table, you put your tray down on one side and walk over to the other, pulling the chair out and offer it to your dining companion. Octavia smiles and gives you a courtly nod as you help her take her seat. She sets her tray down as you return to your own chair.
Taking the rolled napkin full of silverware and unraveling the cloth to reveal your utensils, you spread the napkin across your lap as is proper dining etiquette. You are eating a rather gluttonous proportion, but you would do so with some elegance. Octavia opts to take the same route, spreading her own napkin over her lap as well.
“Good food, good treat, good gracious, let’s eat,” Octavia says in a mock of grace. Your grin grows a bit more as you pick up your fork and knife, balancing them carefully within your hooves to begin eating.
Stabbing into the waffles, there is a satisfying crunch showing that your toppings have not completely dampened the golden brown outer shell protecting the light and fluffy inside. Bringing it up to your mouth, the flavors of the waffle blend with the sweet syrup made richer with the added butter. The chocolate chips give a new texture along with their own succulent taste and the whipped cream’s sweetness blends well with the others. You quickly go in for a second, third, and fourth bite soon after.
Letting out a little moan in response to the flavors on your tongue, Octavia, having started with her waffles as well, looks over. She snickers before returning to work on her own meal.
“Something funny?” you ask.
She looks up at you. “Just that you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
You shrug. “You were right about the waffles.”
“Like you can taste them under all of that!” she exclaims with a giggle.
“They’re there,” you say. “It’s not like I’d just eat a bowl of syrup, chocolate, and whipped cream.”
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her food.
You eat about half of your waffles before deciding to move onto another part of your breakfast. You are eating rather quickly, but it just feels so good to get some food in you. You notice Octavia, although with her refined table manners, is managing to keep pace with you.
Taking a couple bites of toast to cleanse your palate, you begin on the omelette before it gets cold. Unfortunately, the cheese has already become somewhat hard and the eggs are rather tasteless, as Octavia warned. The peppers easily overpowers their flavor. After the first bite, you look down at the rather pitiful example of a classic breakfast entree.
“Was I right about the omelettes as well?” Octavia asks, noticing your offput nature about the dish.
With a sigh, you simply nod. You take another bite of it anyway. It’d be a shame to waste perfectly good food.
“So, what are we doing after breakfast?” you ask in an attempt to make conversation.
She looks up from her food briefly. “Well first, I should probably call the rest of my ensemble,” she says, looking down again to cut off another piece of her waffle. “I have my cello, so I’ll have to practice at some point today.”
You nod as you cut off another bite of omelette. You place the piece on a bit of your toast you then cut through to give it a little extra texture. Celestia knows the poor thing needs all the help it can get.
“After that, well... I was enjoying the time we were spending together.”
Feeling a slight redness in your cheeks, you look up and see Octavia with a tiny smirk, nonchalantly cutting apart the last couple bites of her waffle.
Deciding to look out the window to hide your blush, you see a large carriage has pulled in near the back of the building. Workers seem to be unloading boxes of something. You adjust yourself to see if you can get a better view. Doing so attracts Octavia’s attention.
“What are you looking at?” she asks.
“Ponies unloading something out there. Trying to see what it is.”
Octavia turns around in her seat to try and see for herself.
“Oh, looks like some wine... gin... rum...”
“How can you see from that far?”
“I can kind of recognize some of the labels on the side of the boxes.”
“Really?” you ask, trying to take a careful look. There are no distinct words you could see from the markings you could make out and nothing that would tell you it was wine, rum, or whatever. “I can’t even tell.”
“Well, I’m a bit familiar with them,” she says. “I have a collection of brands at home of the like. I don’t know if I told you.”
You stare out the window, but you lose focus on anything. Something about what Octavia said. A collection of...
“Wait,” Octavia says. You turn to her and see her face full of confusion.
“Did... Did I tell you...?”
~~~~~~~
You follow Octavia through her house into her kitchen. The conversation you were having previously was lost due to her recent outburst which you are still trying to comfort her about.
“Perfectly understandable, some ponies are scared of things,” you say as you trail her hoofsteps. “You just need a little trick to help with it is all. It’s how I get over my fears. Like say...” You try to think of something as Octavia continues to ignore you. You realize you’re babbling at this point, but feel like it’d be more awkward not to at least try to follow your statements through. “Pretend everypony is simply filled with red wine. Wouldn’t be so bad, right?”
“I won’t have to pretend for long,” Octavia remarks, pulling a bottle from the cupboard. “For soon we will be,” she says, showing a bottle of ‘Canterlot Red’ which is basically the drink of the city. Everypony who’s anypony here has had a taste. It was something you’ve had time and again, but that was from sharing leftovers from garden parties with friends or coworkers.
“Are you sure?” you ask, doubting the idea of pouring more onto what you already had to drink.
“It’s just a little celebration after a good show,” she says, rifling through a drawer. “Me and the others do this almost after every time we play.”
“So where are they now?” you ask.
“Packing, probably. We’re playing in another town, leaving tonight, so I’ll meet them there later. I’m actually going to have to get to the train station soon.”
“Have much get ready?”
“Already packed before I left to play tonight.”
So that means it’s just you and Octavia. In her house. You begin to feel your heart thumping in your chest.
“Well, okay. If you insist.” Little more couldn’t hurt. Might calm you down a bit. Plus, it might help you move past the earlier incident.
She pulls out a corkscrew and closes the drawer. Pressing it into the cork that seals the bottle, she begins turning. While she does this, your eyes travel up to the cupboard she had gotten the wine from. In it, you see a rather impressive number of bottles of varying shapes, colors, and sizes contained within it.
“Wow, that’s a lot of bottles,” you note. “Never knew you were such a connoisseur.”
“Hmm?” Octavia turns her head up back towards the liquor cabinet. “Oh, I’m afraid you have it wrong. I wouldn’t drink those,” she says with a chuckle and continuing to twist the corkscrew into the bottleneck. “I enjoy a whiskey every now and again with friends, brandy once in a blue moon, but I mostly keep with red wine.”
“Oh...” you say, feeling a bit foolish for assuming. “Collector, then?”
“In a way, I suppose. Mostly through gifts.” She pulls the cork out of the bottle with an audible pop before continuing. “Bit of a family tradition ever since I turned legal age. Father had given me that nice liquor as a gift on that very birthday.”
She points up to the bottle labeled ‘Golden Rays’. A liquor so fine and smooth, it is said to be brewed straight from the light of Celestia’s sun.
“Couldn’t bring myself to open it,” she muses. “After that, I got the occasional bottle from family for birthdays, Hearth’s Warming, what have you. Sometimes from old friends as well.” She begins pouring the wine into two rather large glasses. “To be honest, I have never spent more than fifty bits myself on a bottle I didn’t intend on drinking.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise as she hands you your beverage. You had never spent more than fifty bits on a bottle you had intended on drinking. You begin to question the value of the drink she had just offered you and decide to take your time enjoying it.
“So, what in your collection had you bought yourself?” you ask before taking a tiny sip of the wine. It’s hard to believe that bitter fermented grapes somehow blended into a pleasant creamy sensation that now runs neatly down your throat.
“Well, only one of any real note.” She finishes pouring her own glass. Picking it up with a hoof, she swishes it. “Back before the quartet rose to play in Canterlot, we’d still have our little after show get-togethers. We played mostly for private parties, but pay was pay.” She takes a light sniff of her drink before sampling. She breathes out a light sigh before continuing. “We were passing through a small town on route to another party to play and decided to stop for the night. I had come across their local winery. They offered me their town’s specialty, 45 bits for a pair.”
“And?” you ask.
“I took the bottles to share with the others. We weren’t exactly living as pretty as we are now. We were always dependant on our next paycheck for our meals.” She walks past you into the living room. “However, business was good. We were becoming more well known. Our names were quickly rising,” she explains as you follow her into the next room.
“So, what you’re basically saying is you had some bits to spare,” you say.
“Well, yes, I suppose that’s the simple way to put it,” she chuckles and she sits in a red velvet easy chair. “Have a seat,” she offers.
You consider the identical chair across the coffee table. Deciding against that, you walk around and sit in the similar loveseat and sit on the end closest to Octavia.
“So how was it?” you ask while settling yourself in.
Octavia raises an eyebrow. “Want to know why I still have the other bottle?”
You look up into her deep purple eyes. Taking a moment, you feel rather warm while looking into them. Pretending it’s the alcohol for a moment (or maybe it really was) you collect your thoughts before you give a response.
“That bad, huh?”
“Never again. I keep it on the shelf as a reminder.”
You both snicker before taking another drink of wine.
“To be fair, the colt told me it was an acquired taste before I bought them,” she says as she takes the glass away from her lips. “So tell me, is there anything you collect?”
You think for a moment. Opening your mouth to speak, you are struck with a minor case of giggles as you realize the irony of it. Octavia raises an eyebrow.
“Yes there is, in fact,” you answer, getting over your little laughing fit.
“What is it?” she asks with a smirk. Apparently your spontaneous laughter is infectious.
“Shot glasses.”
“Really? That’s...” She suddenly gives another chuckle as it dawns on her as well. “That’s pretty funny,” she admits.
You give a little shrug to the humorous coincidence.
Bringing the glass back to take another sip, she stops just before her lips. “So, why shot glasses?” she asks over her cup before drinking.
“Oh, just... well, everywhere has them.” You wave a hoof in the air. “It’s a common souvenir.”
“Why not something like stamps, then?” she asks.
“I used to, as a foal.” You take a swig of your wine. “As I grew, I just needed something with a bit more... weight. If that makes any sense.”
She simply nods. “So do you travel a lot to collect them?” she asks.
“Well... no,” you admit. “My collection is not that impressive. After purchasing those from the closest surrounding towns, I mostly depend on pawn shops or flea markets.”
“Flea markets? Seriously?” she asks. It was true that most pure blood Canterlot ponies wouldn’t be caught dead at such a gathering of low ware peddlers, but these were where you had some of your best finds.
“Yes,” you say before tilting the glass back against your lips again.
“Wow... I’ve heard places like that can be...” she trails off.
“They’re not that bad,” you say with a shrug, trying to act casual. Although, you are afraid of what she might think of you for shopping at such places.
“I figured. I hate to assume.” She takes another swig of her wine. “But you know, you hear things and it doesn’t paint a pleasant picture.”
“It was a secret my dad shared with me,” you say. “He lives well in culture, but that wasn’t always the case. He always had his little tricks for things from his less civilized days.” You sip your wine. “Mom hated it.”
“Sounds like an uncle of mine,” she says.
You’re about to take another swig of your beverage when you notice your glass is empty.
“Need more?” Octavia asks, sipping down the last of her wine as well.
You contemplate how wise the idea of more wine is. However, remembering what made you accept the first time. But right now you are fine. Everything is well; the two of you are just having a conversation after learning about an extreme phobia of hers while barging into her house and- nevermind, your heart just resumed pounding. Red wine was good for the heart, right? Yes, so maybe a little more would help it from all the excitement.
And the fact you are yet again freaking out on the inside about everything.
“If you’re offering,” you say, trying to keep and even tone.
Octavia leans over and takes the bottle, pouring a little more wine for herself. Extending your glass, she pours a little more for you, too.
“You know...” she begins, placing the bottle down and picking up her refilled glass. “Maybe one day we could bring our collections together.”
“Why?” you ask, bringing your glass up for a swig.
“Because, we could go drinking around the world in my own living room.”
You laugh, thankfully before having taken a drink.
“That’d be fun,” you reply.
~~~~~~~
You smile a bit more as the memory wraps up.
Blinking a couple times and snapping out of your trance, you notice your chin is now propped on your hooves. Both your and Octavia’s meals are completely finished and the rest of the dining area was empty except for a couple employees wiping off tables. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the employees looking over at the two of you with a smirk.
You also realize that you and Octavia have just been staring at each other the entire time.
Opening your mouth, trying to think of something to say, the gray mare across from you gives a little giggle. Your mouth closes again back into its grin.
It’s a rather silly moment, but it’s another you wish you could stay in. Just sitting with her. Happy. Smiling. It reminds you of a few young couples you saw outside small restaurants or coffee shops while walking down the streets in Canterlot. The two of you now probably fit the part perfectly.
Octavia closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. “Alright, we should get going,” she says while scooting her chair back. “I have a phone call to make.”
Reluctantly, you follow Octavia, getting out of your chair and walking back towards the lobby. You wanted to stay just a bit longer, but she should really get in contact with her fellow quartet members before they start worrying about where she is.
“We’ll have to stop by the front desk first,” Octavia says.
“Why’s that?” you ask.
“Because...” she begins, turning to you with an awkward smile. “I don’t think either of us took a room key when we left.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.028 seconds
Total duration
866 users online
406,589 hits today, 2,244,100 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 can't even see the dislike bar. That's a sign of a good fic!
Amazing! Very, very good.
Ist happeh bunneh when I saw this ^_^
How many times is this going to get featured? Really, it isn't even funny anymore. Congrats, though.
619997 my reaction...
*stares at screen with that face for 10 seconds* 
*falls out of chair and ROLFS*
751236
As many times as I update it. Apparently, that's what happens when a story gets popular enough. It displays an update in the last two sections of the featured bar.
So, yeah... sorry about that.
nice
0425: Can't sleep, probably should, ignore bed and read Room 213.
EDIT: 0440: Still can't sleep, still probably should, reread Room 213 from chapter 1 in bed hoping to finish before passing out. Still good.
Good story
I can see why it got featured.
Also I am curious. Can you go threw something of why she became a musician. Or her chello Brock and you got it repaired in a flashback?
This is truly a good read, I hope you are happy with your work, I know I am
751385
I might touch on her musical background a bit more. However, I don't think the second suggestion would work that well in all honesty.
//rage
Why do I have to read so fast?
Not bad, if I do say so myself. I'm not a big supporter of second person writing, but you can never judge a book by its cover. This is certainly an exception in what I've come to expect from stories outside some 3rd person form, and it is surprisingly well done. I am very pleased, and so you have my thumb-up and a favourite from me, my friend.
I did notice a couple places where the dialogue seemed to be missing words, or simply needs some rearranging. I didn't notice any spelling errors that come to mind immediately, but if you would like I wouldn't mind reviewing it a bit more thoroughly, for what you have so far. I can send you a PM with my findings when I'm finished, if that's something you would enjoy.
Regards,
Razorbeam.
751405
If you're offering, I would very much appreciate it. I always enjoy feedback.
However, if you were to give me a PM tonight, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to respond very quickly as it is quite late where I am and I must be headed for bed soon.
751423
It would be a later date; I have traveling to do myself soon, so It probably wouldn't be done until Sunday or so anyways. I'll make sure to get it to you by then.
Have a pleasant sleep.
751427
Thank you so much. I look forward to seeing what you have to say and I hope you have a nice trip.
Well the story started a bit longer ago than I had figured but it is definitely a nice little romance adventure. I'm going to fav this now. make sure it's quality but try not to keep us waiting too long for the next update.
Well the story started a bit longer ago than I had figured but it is definitely a nice little romance adventure. I'm going to fav this now. make sure it's quality but try not to keep us waiting too long for the next update.
*dependEnt
only thing i see wrong with this fic, which is superbly written. I love Octavia's personality, the dialogue is extremely believable, and the CM ID system is brilliant. i also appreciate how mature it is, written so as to be realistic, but not pornographic. if we were face-to-face, i would be clapping vigorously.
I like the pace of the story
Luv dis story so far mate!
~Blaze
751393 i know. the second suggestion would not work just wanted to throw that out there. but glad to see you are going to touch on WHY she became a musician. also is he going to reveal anything in these flashbacks about himself? so far it is just Octavia. well minus the shot glasses thing.
751291
I for one am glad, otherwise I wouldn't have come across what's shaping up to be a great story!
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw1935-132453195683.png
Here.To read this wonderful story.
WHY DO I HAVE TO READ SO FAST!?!?!?! WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?!?!?!
Anyway can't wait for the next update!
-Epicpony
YOLO!!
751721
I could have sworn I've seen other fics and fanart use it. I just thought it was her official fanon last name.
"Well, you only live once!"
YOLO!
holy crap I also collect shot glasses both singles and doubles I started it when I joined the military with glasses from each base i went to but it evolved to the surrounding cities as well.
751150
There's a dislike bar? What kinda of crazy person would thumb this story down?!
752148
weknowmemes.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/yolo-is-carpe-diem-for-stupid-people-jack-black.jpg
Seriously, "carpe diem" sounds much more intelligent and sophisticated than a piece of texting shorthand.
This is awesome! =D I eagerly await the next installment! Keep up the good work! =)
(Though, I think you misused the word "frivolous" here: Still, you can’t help but be a little embarrassed about your rather frivolous amount for a meal. You probably just used your connotation, which your vocabulary might be largely composed of, as mine is =) Also, sorry if I am incorrect and just derped here. I do that. Alot. XD Have a good day!)
753524
No, now that I look at it, you're right. I was going for a word that implied a hint of reckless abandon, but looking at the exact definition, I think another word would suit the situation much better.
I'll be making a quick edit to the story.
752797 I think so... There's something that looks like a thumbs pointing down, but I have yet to figure out what that means...
investigation shall continue. But I may never find the answer.
-Glassed
I love your story I was very happy to see an update. I loved the ending of this chapter, cute and funny. Keep them coming!
That picture... Plus Romance....
*shudders*
Wait...
*gasp*
Not mature!? Yes! ...Yes!
And then he read the description.
Damn.
please don't make us wait long for the next chapter
Moonfire~ I don't take kindly to long waits
Me~
Mhm, okay.
Splendid.
Alright, great chapter!
These chapters are pretty much worth the wait, but I can't wait for the next one though.
753957
It's not what it looks like.
753553
Hmm. Let's call Twilight. Maybe she can figure it out. This is beyond the thinking capability of my mind.
this is a great story I can't wait for the next part of the story...
we are all counting on you make us proud 
753540 Oh, yes, ok. Sorry about being so nit-picky. But, glad to be of service, none-the-less. Sounds like I was dead-on with your vocabulary being similar to mine, too =P Keep up the good work =)
752901
I have to agree with you, but it was like quarter to 1 in the morning so i wasn't running on all pistons so.....yeah
I don't know whether I'm just a sucker for Octavia, but this is a piece of art. Great work, sir or Madame.
751857
what the fuck
758779
I ... didn't really think there was anything hard to understand in that sentence?
I don't usually read second-person fics...
But this one's pretty great!
(meme averted)
758811why, why in the world would you put that picture up. I could have lived without seeing that one
761442
Are you sure you have the right commenter? I haven't posted any pictures on this story.