• 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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Repetitive Things

Author's Note:

A club session is pretty much the only exercise I ever need. I think I lose more sweat from bobbing my head and body here in my DJ booth than I do from all of my weekly walks combined. It's the only real way to get into my jams—to make sure the crowd gets into them too, so that we're both jiving, writhing together. To be on the same page, you gotta flip that page, and I do so with beats and bass drops, allowing the gasps and cheers to fall in between.

Oh, this evening is a great deal more subdued, of course. But now that it's late in the evening and the bulk of the ceremony has exhausted itself, I've been given the high sign by Pinkie Pie to... let loose a bit. So I do so with electronic aplomb, blasting forth on all channels. The room swirls in a crimson cyclone, and I'm delighted to see that the straggling partygoers are not only enjoying themselves—moving with the sway and swish of the track—but there are quite a few beaks and talons to be had between them. This can only be a good thing. I'm performing digital diplomacy with a turntable for a peace treaty.

I smile proudly. I think I can allow myself such a thing for the moment. I twirl, come to a stop, and slap my instrument panel. This sends the lights flashing across the thinning ballroom for the last throes of musical mayhem. And when everything ceases, it does so with a narrow hiss, crackling the last vestiges of the speakers until a breathless hush is left wanting in the sonic wave's absence.

And, with that, my first official performance at the Royal Castle comes to an end.

The ponies in the room applaud... all two dozen of them. It's an anticlimactically subtle reception, if it weren't for the fact that griffons don't exactly clap like ponies. They do something else... almost like purring. I don't know how to describe it, save for the fact that the air above them fills with dull orange vibrations, and that's enough for me to carry home with confidence.

"And that was DJ-P0N3, everypony! Performing regularly in venues all across Equestria!" Pinkie Pie shouts through a microphone. Does she ever get tired? "Thanks for giving her a hoof! And thanks for showing up at the first ever Royal Friendship Gathering! Woohooo!"

I dismount from the booth, trotting immediately towards a table lined with water bottles. I open one, take a massive swig, then relax my throbbing body as I feel the cool liquid running down my esophagus. Just taking so few steps was enough to send my tired legs aching. After a session like that, I can truly appreciate how fortunate I am to have Roadie Beau around to play "water duty."

Oh Beau...

I really should see you again...

Sometime before our next tour together. Life is so short, and I'm so stupid. You've been nothing but good to me... unwavering...

I swallow the bottom half of my water bottle's contents. It's quiet now in the ballroom, save for the occasional golden voices and crimson squawks. I'm strangely happy to have a moment to just... relax here... standing on all hooves... in open view of everyone still remaining in the ballroom. All things considered—in the realm of royal courts—I'm something of a nopony. This allows me something that I rarely experience, except when at home, and that's the peace of mind that comes with anonymity.

It allows me an opportunity to stare across the floor. I see Octavia seated with Rarity and Fluttershy. Tavi's session ended about forty minutes ago. She now chats with friends... new friends... genuine and royal all the same. Laughter and giggles float between them. I sense a shower of diamonds, and I can tell that Rarity is complimenting my roommate. Tavi replies with a voice that tries dipping into indigo, but is stuck to a violet ceiling. She smiles, swirling a glass of red wine. How she got that—I don't know. And I don't care. I don't think I remember the last time Tavi looked this happy, and it's not the drink. It's the aura that's still clinging to her, with a fine layer of whimsy and sweat, resonating with the performance she did earlier today. It fills her lungs with sparkles, and I can see how she's entrancing Fluttershy and Rarity with one fantastic anecdote after another, several that she has likely shared with me before.

I don't care. I would very much like hearing them again.

So, tossing the water bottle into a recycling bin, I make my way towards the table. It is around this point that I hear hushed breaths—yellow and amber, dipping into dull grays and blacks. I scuffle to a stop, blinking, concerned. It's a very alarming thing when voices start to match the color of this Castle.

I turn around, craning my ear towards a crystalline doorway.

I see a royal servant, her face and mane frazzled. She speaks in a hushed tone towards Flash Sentry.

"He's in there with her now. And he's v-very... very loud. I glanced in and... uhm... Her Highness gave me a look. I know this might be unorthodox... but I-I really think she needs assistance."

"Is the Princess in trouble?" Flash Sentry asked, his brown voice reaching an amber pitch that I've never seen before. "Does she require the Royal Guard?"

"I... uh... I think she requires you." The secretary gulps. "I-I'm sorry, Flash. Honestly, I'm kinda scared..."

"You did the right thing." Flash rests a hoof on her shoulder. "Go into the west wing. Find Rainbow Dash. Then return here and wait for us to fill you in."

"Thank you, Flash. I... I-I'm sorry to be a bother."

"It's my job. Now go." That said, they split ways, with Flash trotting swiftly—but cautiously—down a nearby corridor.

I stare after him, blinking. I take one more glance at Tavi, the others, the warm colors and conversation...

...and then I slither down the hall, tailing the young guard's hoof clops at a distance.

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