Music Makes The Heart

by TheVulpineHero1

5) M!issundazstood

M!issundazstood
(P!nk)

---

Red eyes through violet lenses peered at the sleeping earth pony on the bed. DJ P0N-3 didn't remove her glasses. Didn't intend to. This time, she needed the confidence, the shield her fame provided. Or would she? It was up to Octavia- gentle Octavia, sleeping peacefully past the broken noon. Graceful Octavia, splay-legged on the sheets.
Behind her glasses, DJ P0N-3 grinned.

She didn't know what had kicked it all off. She'd never heard of Octavia before they first met and she took her glasses off to peer into her eyes (a privilege afforded to precious few). No reason to antagonise her. But where knowledge faltered, instinct took over; just like in music, all she had to do was match the beat. She'd been...pleased. To meet one who didn't shy away, who didn't lash out, but who just stood firm and prideful. And then, that response.
You look better with the glasses off.
It was the first time she'd heard it. Brave, but controlled. She liked it. She liked her. They were good words. Good words were hard to find.

Octavia stirred, and P0N-3 put her thoughts to the back of her head. Settled for analysing every movement.
The earth pony stretched the clumsy, comfortable stretch of the newly awoken. A moment's pause, a realisation. Slight panic at surroundings she wasn't familiar with. A flit across the face of sudden recollection, of annoyance at a debt unpaid. A twitch of the ear, and then a sudden feeling of being watched; a wide-eyed stare, straight into her glasses. Unflinching.

"Good afternoon," P0N-3 smiled. "You slept well."

Octavia waited before answering. Took her time to bounce between anger and manners, decided on a compromise. Fascinating.

"Yes, I did, thank you. Your concert was...was..." Octavia said, and struggled visibly for words. "Admirable."

Admirable. Good words again. The more she heard, the more she liked. Polite, but unwilling to admit defeat. Determined, that was the word.

"Well? Say something. Anything. Enough mind games, Scratch," Octavia said after a few moments of silence. She sounded tired.

P0N-3 took off her glasses, and became Vinyl Scratch once more. The wildness left her, and the quiet, retiring pony with the smoky voice returned.

"You really think I look better with the glasses off?" she asked. Stress on the really, stress on the off. She spoke in beats and rhythms, and the words weren't so hard to find.

"Of course," Octavia shrugged. "You have magnificent eyes."

She has no idea, Scratch thought. She said it like it was nothing at all. It was guileless, motiveless. Blind good will. Amazing.

"Was that all you wanted? If so, I'll be going. I need to practice," Octavia carried on, and looked her square in the eye, jaw set. "I've no intention of losing to you, Miss Scratch."

"Wait," Scratch said, sharply. Almost urgently.

"Yes?"

"You're a good musician," she smiled, calm and smoky. "I like you. Octavia."

Octavia returned her smile. But, somehow, she wasn't sure it was a good thing.

Comments

[Therizzen]

What the hell man?

Your writing style with these is honestly brilliant, I would say a mix of poetry and good old fashioned narration. I can't get over all these little quirks you give to the characters or how you explain their thoughts, their personalities. Vinyl's thoughts regarding Octavia? Wonderful. Octavia's thought at the end? Spectacular.

[Princess-nilight]