• 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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Talented Things

Author's Note:

Sweetie Belle takes a deep breath, tenses her facial muscles, and leans in to the mic:

"Do – Re – Mi – Fa – Sol – La – Ti – Do!" She takes another breath, smiling this time, and reverses the pitch as she leans back. "Do – Re – Mi – Fa – Sol – La – Ti – Do!"

I nod, turning several dials while my shaded eyes study the frequency of my recorder. Just as soon as she finishes the second time, I wave a hoof in the air, spinning it in a "repeat!" motion.

She inhales again, then bellows: "Do – Re – Mi – Fa – Sol – La – Ti – Do!" Her bright eyes blink, and she leans against the mic. "Wait... is it 'Ti' or 'Si' near the end? I never did get that part of the solfeggio."

I wince, my microphone thundering with feedback from her fuzzy limbs rubbing up against the mic. My hoof gestures madly at her.

"Oh!" She leans back, blushing like a beet. "Whoops. Sorry."

I sigh, then give her a calm smile. With a bow of my head, I motion for her to proceed.

"What, again?" Her little muzzle scrunches. "No offense, Miss Scratch, but I just don't get what you're trying to do here. I mean... how is getting me to sing the same pitched notes over and over again supposed to accomplish anything?"

Levitating a pen, I scribble on a pad of paper and hold it before her.

"Yeah, but samples for what? I'm just making silly noises! I could do this in my sleep! In fact..." She squirms in place, wincing. "Rarity tells me that I sometimes do. I've woken up to three broken glasses of water by my bedside in just the last week alone."

I blink. I write three bold letters on the pad and hold it before her.

"Heehee... I know, right?" She smiles.

Clearing my throat with a magenta pulse, I gesture once more towards the mic—

"Wait..." She leans in, squinting. "Did you just... cough?"

I look at her curiously.

"You can make sounds?" Sweetie's voice cracks. "I mean, it sure sounded like there was something behind that throat just now?"

My muzzle goes crooked as I glare at her.

"Erm... I-I mean... don't get me wrong!" Sweetie waves her forelimbs. "If you're mute, you're mute! But I just..." She points at the mic. "Why aren't you doing this, then?"

I sigh and face-hoof, once again blinding myself with magenta.

"Cuz I always thought that was ironic, y'know? To not be able to talk but you can still make some really sweet music? I mean, sure, I've heard your stuff, but I'm not quite as ga-ga for it as—say—Scootaloo. She says that, aside from rock ballads, DJ-P0N3 tracks are the best thing to watch Rainbow Dash stuntfly to." Sweetie Belle almost instantly cringes. "Erm... n-not that Scootaloo has a habit of watching Rainbow Dash from the bushes or nothing. And if she did... erm... y-you didn't hear it from me."

I tap the edge of my turntable repeatedly, growing impatient.

"But still, I'm sure I could be doing much... much more useful stuff for you right now, Miss Scratch. Are you sure you don't want me to dust off your instrument panel? Or maybe make you a sandwich? Or—"

I flip off the microphone, throw a few switches, then unplug my headphones. Slapping my hoof over a button, I play an experimental track from the beginning.

Sweetie gasps, for her ears are drowning in blue—as mine are... as mine have been. Her eyes sparkle as she hears her sampled notes suddenly dancing all over the place, meandering around a frenetic back beat, undulating in pitch as the sound of her rides the crest of symphonic electronica, up and down, reaching a crescendo. About twenty seconds in, the little filly is giggling like mad.

"Oooh! Oooh! Heeheehee! Oh that's cool! That's so cool!" She smirks, dimples rosy, and points at the blaring speakers. "Is that really me?"

I nod, grinning at her.

"Heeheehee!" She greets the blue waves with blue waves, and the whole foyer is awash in sapphires. "Listen to that! I'm the next Daft Pony hit!"

I stifle a groan.

"Oh... sorry..." She blushes. "Bad nerve?"

I stop the music on a dime, hold a hoof up, then switch the tracks. She leans in, listening as I start playing: "Or maybe make you a sandwich?" I spin the table on the left, then swivel it back and forth. "Or-Or-Or maybe m-m-m-make you a—m-m-m-make you—ou—ou!"

"Ha ha ha ha!" She hugs herself, rolling over, awash in ocean blue mirth. "Heeheehee! Ohhhhhhh wow!" She wipes a tear away, grinning from ear to ear. "How can something be so silly and so awesome all at once?" She giggles some more, then finds an even breath. "Oh. I know. You made it awesome."

I shake my head and point at her.

"Huh? Pfft... please..." She kicks at the ground, her smile still trailing. "You can make anything sound good with that pew-pew machine stuff of yours. Even my voice."

I write on the pad, then levitate it in front of her.

She blinks. "You really think so?"

I nod, then write another phrase, showing it to her.

"Pffft..." Sweetie Belle rolls her eyes. "How could you 'know' so? I know what it's like to be flattered. That goofball Rumble says stuff like that to me in class all the time."

I blink.

"If I was actually good at singing, I'd have gotten a cutie mark for it ages ago." Sweetie Belle paces away, shrugging. "As it stands... it's just something that I do in my spare time to try and forget how silly and clumsy I am." She sighs, ears drooping. "And let's face it... I really am clumsy."

I bite my lip, glancing at my pen and paper. For once, I'm at a loss to write something.

"Well..." Violet fills the room. "...perhaps the key is throwing yourself into the thick of things, instead of just dipping your hoofsies, darling."

I look up—as does Sweetie Belle.

"Miss Melody!" Sweetie Belle squeaks. "I-I... I'm going to get right back to dusting and cleaning! I swear! I-I just got distracted, is all—"

"Mmm... indeed you did..." Octavia trots in from the open doorway. She closes it behind her and lays her cello case down against the edge of the sofa. "The question is..." She winks in my direction. "Just who was it who distracted you?"

I smile nervously.

"It won't happen again!" Sweetie yelps, rushing towards the nearest bookcase and sweeping her tail over it. "Honest—!"

Octavia gently places a hoof over the filly's tail. "But on the contrary..." Octavia squats low, placing a hoof gently over Sweetie's shoulder. "I believe it must happen again, and quite often too."

"Huh?" Sweetie blinks.

"Vinyl's quite right to recognize a unique talent in you, little one."

"She is?"

"Mmmm... yes." Octavia smirks my way again. "Although, I think a far more... traditional application is in order."

I face hoof with a sigh.

Oh here we go...

"Really?" Sweetie Belle squirms in place, blushing. "Ermm... like wh-what?"

"Tell me, Sweetie Belle..." Octavia trots over to her cello case and carefully unzips it. "...are you quite familiar with Trottingham chamber music?"

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