• Published 26th Jul 2015
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The Things Tavi Says - shortskirtsandexplosions



Let me tell you a few things about my roommate, Octavia. After all, she saved my life.

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Waning Things

Author's Note:

"And suppose Miss Heartstrings did get selected for auditions as well?" Octavia murmurs, swirling the glass of red wine in her graceful hooves. "She might not possess quite the same elegance and grace as me—er... us..." She smiles awkwardly. "But still..."

I turn my head and squint at her through the thin bleeding light of the setting sun. A calm smile hangs on my face.

The two of us sit on the cushions of a large, swinging patio chair situated just outside our apartment's front door. The last waking birds of the day twitter and yelp above us in golden bursts, blending into the amber sunset. The green world gives way to a yawning turquoise while straggling ponies shuffle across the lazy lengths of our humble village with platinum laughter. Everything is warm, melting, and mellow.

Octavia is the first one to sigh. "Well..." She takes a dainty sip of her wineglass and peers a thousand miles away beyond the immediate horizon. "She has her gifts, indeed. What Miss Heartstrings lacks in style, she makes up for in finesse. I suppose if... if we were bested by her performance, then such would be perfectly acceptable. Part of me hopes, however, that my experience in various Canterlot tours will win the admiration of the Princess. Twilight's from there, you know. Canterlot, that is. She practically had a crib made out of pure magical starbeams—rocked by Princess Cadance herself! Or so I've been told."

I roll my eyes and pour my bottle of Dr. Pony down my muzzle... only for nothing to come out. I blink, shaking the plastic container upside down. It's completely empty, and my ears fold back with a shudder of defeat.

Tavi's purple voice lulls me back into a calm state. "Oh, who am I kidding, Vine? If my finer tastes in symphonic art doesn't win the princess, then surely your contemporary stylings will devour the attention of her esteemed colleagues." Stifling a violet giggle, she swings her head my way with a quiver of her bowtie. "Could you imagine? Your music and mine, hoof-and-hoof, bridging the gap between old culture and new culture?"

I nod with a nervous smile.

I can.

"Surely this all extends from the wedding," Octavia says. She takes a heartier sip of wine and exhales. Her breath is like grapes dipped in honey. "Spike—Twilight's draconian servant: surely he put in a good word about our performance. That has to be it. I'm telling you, it's all in the timing, love." The air fills with a purple cloud, and I'm stumbling dizzily to make out her next few words: "...been wanting to open up the castle here in Ponyville—make it into a true blue functioning bastion of friendship and diplomacy. And, if you ask me, it's high time that Equestria had a place that served such a function. Goddess knows we owe Princess Celestia and Luna the entire world over, but there's something about their royal headquarters that has always felt so... cold and abhorrently standoffish!" She shook her head. "But not this place! Twilight intends to open up the Royal Castle to everypony seeking her council! And—you and I, Vinyl! We could very well be standing upon the cusp of being the royal establishment's very first musical directors! Can you simply imagine?!"

I weather the violet waves issuing from her. Chuckling in a dull breath, I shake my head.

"No...?!?" Octavia frowns, a deliciously fuzzy thing, and she sips half of the remaining wine in one savage gulp. "Well!" She nearly belches, tilting up her chin with elegant consternation. "I, for one, have full faith in our abilities. It doesn't matter if we're competing against Lyra or any of the other musical talents of this village. You and I, my dear Vine, are the very definition of eclectic. Between my expertise and you being an undeniable prodigy, we will most surely leave the rest of the competition in the dust. Erm... w-without making a deplorable scene of it, of course."

I nod, staring off into the tranquil heights of this lulling village.

"I wonder..." Octavia smiles, despite the lilting indigo in her voice. "Could they even go so far as to let us move into the Castle? In... in one of th-the more unassuming wings, I mean."

I shrug, brushing a hoof through my mane.

"Oh, Vinyl, who am I kidding?" She sighs, nuzzling the edge of her glass and smiling contentedly. "....any place in this delightful little village is worth living in, regardless of status. Wouldn't you agree?"

I grin calmly.

Best thing I heard all day...

Okay, well... second best...

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