Dinner With Riffs
You can’t believe you didn’t notice the cellist, not three meters away from you, for the entire duration of the rehearsal.
When Lyrica steps down off her podium of superiority, Octavia tries to stealthily shoot a glance behind her, accidentally meeting your eyes. She holds the eye contact, surprised that she’s been caught. Surprisingly, her normally grey face is rapidly turning a delicate shade of pink, which you find innocently adorable. All traces of the hostility she had exuded when you first met her are gone.
After a tense moment where time seems to freeze, Octavia finally looks away.
The cellist twirls her bow intricately like she’s been doing it for years, which she most likely has. She hefts her cello by the neck and takes it to a waiting black matte case at the edge of the stage, just out of sight for the audience. Gingerly, she places the instrument down on the velvet lining, and clasps the case’s lid down with several satisfying snaps from the buckles.
“So, how was the first rehearsal?”
Vinyl Scratch peeks around the piano, a wide grin on her face. You hurriedly tear your eyes away from Octavia and focus on the DJ. You smile, authentically for a change. Vinyl has a knack for bringing out the best in you. “Just fine. A bit uneventful, compared to the rest of my day. Did you stick around for the whole thing?”
“Nah. Stepped out for a bit of air about an hour in. I needed a little synthesized music to warm my soul, so I hit one of the few clubs that’s still open in this area. You dig?”
“Yeah.”
“But don’t take it personally. I heard some of your music.”
“Don’t worry, Vinyl. It takes more than your refusing to sit still for a few hours to offend me.”
“Right. We’re cool. Meet anypony nice?”
So far, the only other member of the orchestra you’ve spoken to—besides Royal Riff, Symphony, and Octavia—is Harpo Parish Nadermane, and you wouldn’t throw him under the category of “nice”. You grin a little at the thought. “No, not really.”
“Which is to be expected. I’ve always thought these guys were a bunch of plotholes.”
You take a quick glance around to see if anypony was paying attention. Fortunately, most of the musicians are in the midst of cleaning up, and therefore have little interest in your conversation. “Could you do me a favor, and not try to offend anypony?”
“They’ve heard worse, trust me. But most of them hate me anyway, so I’m not worried about making any more enemies.” Vinyl adjusts her shades a bit. “You want to stop for dinner?” She changes subject at the speed of a Sonic Rainboom.
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“That depends if Riffs is coming or not. His opinion of fine dining isn’t actually synonymous with mine.”
“Imagine that.”
“I’d invite Octavia too, but you two have been fighting like an old married couple, so I don’t think dinner would be a great idea. Aye?”
“Sure. What about Symphony?”
“I would have, but she high-tailed it out of here as soon as Lyrica was done talking. Speaking of which . . .” Vinyl grabs you by the shoulders and leads you off the stage. When you look behind you, you just catch a glimpse of a black tail disappearing behind the curtains. “What do you think of that piece of work?”
You search your vocabulary for a suitable adjective, while still focusing on not falling down the stairs. Even after Clusterbuck’s remedial beverage, you’re a little lightheaded. “She’s . . . abhorrent.”
“That bad, huh? I don’t even know what that means.”
Royal Riff is waiting at the base of the stairs, bearing a comforting smile. “How did it go?”
“Great. My only complaint is about our lovely conductor, but what can we do? Oh, by the way, Riffs. Can I call you that? I’ve been saying ‘Royal Riff’ all day, and it gets to be a bit of a mouthful.”
Royal Riffs chuckles. “You are at perfect liberty to call me whatever you want. And I see you’ve had a confidence booster.”
It’s true; your nervousness has all but dissipated. Now, the prospect of performing with the orchestra seems positively exhilarating. “Maybe it’s because auditions are out of the way, and I’ve met your charming cellist.” You feel it necessary to mention Octavia, but you’re not sure why.
“Hey, Riffs,” says Vinyl. “Want to catch a bite to eat with us?”
Royal Riff looks down at a watch you’ve never noticed before. “You do realize it’s almost midnight, don’t you, Vinyl?”
“Midnight is early for me. You know that I’m pretty much nocturnal.”
“I’m a bit of a night owl, myself,” you add.
“What do you have in mind?” asks Royal Riff, unknowingly mimicking your earlier comment.
“Are you coming?”
“I suppose.”
“In that case, we’re going to The Crimson Griffon.”
“The tavern?” asks Royal Riff warily.
“Bar and grill,” Vinyl corrects. “It should still be open this time of night. Are you game, Riffs, or is that too lower-class for you?”
“I’ll be fine. It is one of the finer places to eat in town, which surprises me, Vinyl. Whatever happened to getting pizza and dubstep at some nightclub? I’ll never forgive you for that, by the way, since I’m still washing the alcohol out of my mane.”
You and Vinyl laugh, and even the violinist cracks a grudging smile. Even though you’ve just met him today, Royal Riff is rapidly becoming a good friend. He provides a much-needed filter from the DJ’s constant exuberant behavior. A bit of class mixed in with the madness.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Vinyl giggles. “Let’s get a move on, then.”
“Vinyl, it’s about five degrees outside. And I don’t have anything warmer than what I’m wearing.” Which just so happened to be nothing.
“Don’t worry, I could whip something up,” you say. Now that you’re back to full power, a heating spell for the three you should be effortless.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what is that supposed to mean?” Royal Riff looks uncharacteristically nervous. In response, you tap your horn with a hoof, which does little to comfort the violinist.
“Whoo hoo hoo! Look at you and your high-horse magical powers!” remarks Vinyl. “Never fear, our pianist is a sorcerer! He’ll see us safely through the night.”
You smile modestly. Even with the bolster in fortitude, you still try to underrate your abilities. “Sorcerer? No. More like closet experimentations. Simple stuff.”
“Fair enough,” says Royal Riff. “Shall we?”
“We shall!” announces Vinyl. “Onward!”
You and Royal Riff follow the enthusiastic DJ outside. The snow has done little to abate, and if anything, has thickened. And to add to the difficulty, the temperature is even lower. Icicles are practically forming in your mane, and a deep chill permeates you to the core, freezing your muscles.
“N-now would be a good t-time to do whatever you were planning,” chatters Royal Riff. Snow has layered on his back, matching his white mane perfectly. His whole frame is vibrating visibly, and you hear a faint clattering coming from his mouth, caused undoubtedly by his knocking teeth.
“You okay, Riffs?” you say, taking your sweet time to fire up your magic. Surprisingly, you kept your own chattering teeth hidden, which adds to your general appearance of being perfectly comfortable.
“I’m j-just fine. Just a little chilly, that’s all.”
Your horn lights, lighting the immediate area in cinereal light. A wave of pleasantly warm air engulfs the three of you, forming comfortable and protective barriers around your bodies. Besides dispelling the cold, the heat melts all the snowflakes that come within six inches.
“Well, that’s . . . something,” comments Vinyl. “Could you teach me that little trick?”
“Maybe later, Vinyl,” you reply. “Now let’s get going—I can’t keep the spell going for too long.”
“Right. This way.”
You have no idea how Vinyl can see where she’s going. Her horn is lit to provide a little extra light, but the snowfall is so thick that it inevitably does next to nothing. The teal beam of light bounces off the white flakes, only illuminating a few hoof-lengths in front of her nose. Fortunately, it seems that Vinyl has an impeccable sense of direction; she navigates the narrow roads confidently in the semidarkness. You and Royal Riff are forced to trust that she actually does know where she’s going.
Normally, Canterlot is beautiful at night, but your view is largely obscured by the massive snowstorm.
Ahead, Vinyl suddenly curses. Royal Riff catches up to her, with you following close behind. “What’s up?” you ask.
Vinyl points at a dark mass in front of you. A lit fluorescent sign announces the name of the building: “The Crimson Griffon”. And under it, hanging from a nail in the door, is a bright red “closed” sign. “Well, we found the place.” Royal Riff’s attempt at cheeriness.
“Yeah, we did,” Vinyl grumbles. “But we can’t actually get in to get food.”
Secretly, you’re not exactly surprised that the restaurant is closed. Judging by Royal Riff’s watch, it’s a little after midnight. You don’t know much about Canterlot, but in Ponyville, everything would have been closed down about an hour ago. “So, now what?” you voice.
“I dunno,” says Vinyl.
“We could go over to my place,” offers Royal Riff. “I could whip us up some food.”
The prospect of getting indoors is appealing, and you’d like to see where the violinist lives. You look to Vinyl to catch her opinion. She looks understandably disappointed that her plans have been knocked askew. “Sure. Let’s go.”
“Right,” says Royal Riff. He looks around uncertainly. “Now I’m not sure if I know where in Celestia’s name we are, though. It is awfully dark, you know.”
Vinyl’s horn is lit, but not brightly enough. Splitting your mind off like you do when doing you morning chores, you keep some concentration on the heating spell, but a second portion of your mind lights your horn up like a beacon. Now, instead of seeing only a few inches, you can make out the buildings on the other side of the street.
“Lead on, Royal Riff.”
****
Royal Riff inserts his key into the locked door of his apartment, and after a quick twist that you didn’t know was possible for earth ponies, the door pops open.
The three of you tumble gratefully into the warm apartment. About ten minutes ago, your heating spell had faded, leaving you to walk another couple of blocks in the sheer cold. It was a welcome sight when the silhouette of Royal Riff’s apartment building appeared in front of you.
Royal Riff flips on a light, revealing a spotlessly clean living space, dotted with modern-looking furniture. “Let me get a fire going, and then I’ll track down some food.” He gestures at an achromatic sofa sitting next to a fireplace, signaling for you and Vinyl to make yourselves at home. The DJ complies, flinging herself down on a nearby armchair. You lower yourself gratefully onto the couch, your aching bones moaning in relief.
Royal Riff goes over to the base of the fireplace and twists a small knob, causing a raging blaze to spring up behind the metal grate. The heat spreads across the room, instantly negating the outside chill. Vinyl moans in ecstasy. “Royal Riff, I think I might be in love with you.”
“Thank you, Vinyl, but you’re not my type.” Royal Riff disappears into the kitchen, his voice carrying back to where you and Vinyl are reclining.
“Okay, I knew it was a far-fetched relationship.” Vinyl continues the joke.
“Do you have other commitments?” you contribute.
“Nah. Basically one-night deals, but nopony sticks around.” Vinyl doesn’t elaborate, but you don’t press. Her demeanor darkens, barely noticeable, but clear as day for your observant mind.
“How does pasta sound for you two?” comes Royal Riff’s voice.
“Sounds great, Riffs.” Vinyl’s voice sounds cheerful, but her body language still looks sulky. You regret bringing up a sore subject now.
“It’ll be just a minute. Find some way to entertain yourselves.”
“Sure thing,” Vinyl says.
True to his word, a few minutes later, Royal Riff trots out bearing three plates piled with steaming, curled pasta, topped by a layer of marinara and parmesan cheese. He slides them down on the coffee table, placing them precisely in front of each diner. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks, Riffs,” you say. Vinyl shows no such consideration, since her face is already buried in her meal. Elegant, not remotely, but that’s Vinyl’s style.
Royal Riff’s cooking is exquisite, and you all finish in a matter minutes.
After your plates are cleaned, Vinyl excuses herself, and you decide to call it a night too.
And the strength of your friendship keeps you warm all the way home.
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I think every story needs at least one extremely cheesy line. Here's mine.
1098281
It sure is cheesy i am estatic about it, in a sarcastic way.
And i finally caught up with the story *cheers*, i wonder how it would be to see the comments i left behind, during the first one i thought: what a nice story, after that impossible piano play i got more whiped up and now i'm thinking: this is the best musical fic i've ever read.
Sooooo yeah you got an extra follower.
1098281 Was there something between Octavia and the old pianist? With the way she seems to be treating you it seems that way.
1098914
Thank you so much for all this sudden feedback! It's really something to get home to find 20+ notifications, and most of them from one person. Anyway, I hope I can continue to live up to expectations. Cheers, my friend!
1099289
Yes. They were dating steadily for a few months before Frederic's untimely death. I never came out and said it, but the hints were there.
Well, it's about time Vinyl brought out the best in somepony. Often as not, she's made out to be The Instigator in whatever conflict has arisen.
1100409
Agreed. I wanted someone to bring out the light in Vinyl, so I took it upon myself. It's remarkable how many different personalities we can construct for a single character.
1098450 typo
1100067
Ok ... do you also make jokes about your dad that he must be evil to be born on halloween?
This is pretty funny.
1100094
They were dating?
How old was Frederic i keep thinking that he was a bit of an old timer.
1100524
Still don't know who that is, OC?
1102562 Vinyl Scratch/DJ pon-3? images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27600000/Vinyl-Scratch-my-little-pony-friendship-is-magic-27681041-1480-1080.png
1102572
there you go.
Now your making sense.
*edit* hold on picture is not loading, damn you anticlimax.
Still not loading, seriously pressed on F5 for like 5 times now.
6 times.
8 times, i'm gonna give up now, could you describe the picture?
*edit* forgot the, how do you call it the thingy next to the dot on the keyboard, called a comma in my country.
Anyway i forgot to add one between now and could.
*guess what another edit*
This comment is just one giant anticlimax, happy times.
That means that i'm laughing my ass off. (was off now with 2 f's or 1 f ?)
English isn't my motherlanguage, i mean my english speech is very good, and so is my vocabulary but i still stumble a bit over random words.
Like a grown man tripping over his own legs.
*edit* this comment is getting long, lets make it longer by saying that its getting even longer as i am typing this.
*edit* i got a good idea how to make this comment longer (or is it post?) i could add more smiles
*edit* i just saw that i placed a comma between could and you on line 5, silly me it should be between now and could, well its all fixed and it gives me an excuse to add a smiley.
*edit* hmm i'm wondering if i smiles is the correct word to use for smiley in the multiple form, i checked google and it seems i was right all along so this edit is pretty useless. no wait its not useless, i learned something, that makes it useful.
If i would say spam spam spam would you bring in your viking friends and sing spam spam spam?
Just wondering, it was also a way to say spam while spamming but by giving the word spam a meaning i could disguise it as conversation.
Ahh i renember the good o'l days that this comment was just one line long, ohh the memories.
*edit* how long could i make this comment before someone bans me or messages me to shut the hell up?
Lets find out. for justice, for science, for getting an excuse to do all this. This site needs a hoofpump emotion and i'm too lazy to go to google, can YOU do it?
*edit* now that sounds like a challenge, and now i think about it, it is a challenge.
*edit*......... yeah i don't know anything to say right now, i wanted to say something about that the making of this comment so long could be an awesome challenge but now i don't feel like it. Aaaand i just said it. Its still morning here, still need to wake up.
I'm Dutch so the coffey is strong enough to give most people caffine poisoning, so its not the coffey, guess i just need time.
That actually happend here 1 time, it was during a wedding and some french guy was there too and he ordered a normal cup of coffey, after he finished it his hands were trembling due to the caffine overdose. He needed a small glass of vodka to thin it out. (don't ask me why vodka it just happend like that, i'm just the story teller don't judge me.) Anyway that french guy was used to pretty weak coffey, i don't know if that's with everyone in France but it just happend.
Yeah Dutch people and coffey, it all happend during the Voc trade with dutch-india (Now Indonesia) after a while we had a large trade that was mostly coffey, nutmeg, mace and cloves. so those things were very cheap for the residents of the Netherlands. And if a product didn't sold properly for a while you would be waist deep in that product, this happend a few times with coffey so dutch people started to drink it very strong just to use it up. And that's why dutch people have such strong coffey.
*edit* now that was a good way to enlarge this comment.
*edit* i wonder if someone found out about this comment yet. How would they react, oh idea leave your reaction to this comment in the comment page, but now i think about it that's what most people do already sooooo nevermind.
*edit* that picture still didn't load. i am dissapointed in that picture.
1102618 Look at the mare in my profile picture, or search her up in google images
1102657
Was it the same picture?
Oh cool i see that the response was written 35 minutes ago, wait till you see the rest.
1102788 Saw it as I was scrolling down, OH SHIT!
*edit* its spelled Coffee not coffey
1102871
You know i learned something today.
Ohhh wait till Desiratium sees it.
When he sees it all he would be like; wow this is really enthusiastic or he would be like (read the following in a funny voice) nooo what have i gotten myself into.
And his page would be like; notifications, notifications everywhere.
1102890 Lets give him more? upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/7/78/Trollface.svg/200px-Trollface.svg.png
1102931
Why the heck not.
1102931
All i need to do is instead of edit my comments, just post new comments.
Aaand shadow is watch- stalking me. WHY ARE PEOPLE DOING THAT. Am i that intresting?
Need to poop, holding it in. OH GOD my belly it hurts, i'm going to explode, touching cloth MUST RESIST MUST WRITE.
Ah crisis averted for now. The brown beast is snoring again. Lets hope it does not get awoken as i travel to my friend who lives in his sisters appartment in a flat on number 556, because his sister is on a holiday and he takes care of her cat.
Oh god the poop, its returning.
Must listen awesome piano song, 3 minutes left.
It stopped again.
Crap its back. 1 minute and 30 seconds left
1 minute. i can do this.
C'mon c'mon 10 seconds left ahh final tunes its over. Time to torture the toilet until it crawls into someone's arms softly saying; no more no more.
1102561
Even though he's been in the orchestra for longer than any of the others, he was still relatively young. Not much older than Octavia.
1103063
1102931
And thanks, guys, for booting my comment count with your needs to empty your bowels.
This has been an interesting turn of events.
1103975
Yeah this is about as horrific as the horribly slow murderer with the extremely inefficient weapon.
But yeah i don't get this enthusiastic for other fic's. Even if they are beter, i don't really know what this fic did with me but i like it.
Guess your just an excellent writer.
Or i'm just mentally instable.
1104018
Maybe both, but I think I'm leaning more to the instability than my ability.
1103055 I'm not stalking you! And that tale about the poop... its pretty funny!
I see the creator is watching me, why is it that fimfic makes it sound so sketchy in the notifications? Desideratium is watching you! It can't be just me that thinks that sounds pretty sketchy
1104841
Let's just say that I'm watching you very closely.
1104832
It was a true story.
1104841
Yeah i know i always think about Stalkerloo if i see that someone is watching me.
1105139 I think about Slenderman profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/276817_235687291557_4740724_n.jpg is it just me?
1105006i3.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/215/571/come%20at%20me%20bro.jpg
1106070
Slenderman is a bit new to my mind and he needs time to fully nestle himself within my thought patern.
So i just think about pony/brony stuff and then stalkerloo would come up.
1106102
Well i don't think the brony mememakers are the most exiting part of the brony fandom, but they do provide excellent work.
1106102
i0.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/033/179/The_Slender_Man_by_Pirate_Cashoo.jpg
Be careful where you sleep.
1107311 Yeah, whats he thinking when he sees us? cdn.fd.uproxx.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/PrepareYourAnus.jpg
1108458
I have no words.
1108548 youdopia.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/motherfucking-game-e1327034327674.jpg you do
1108579
1108688 as they were "I have no words" you argument is now invalid
1110056
Curses! Foiled again!
1110185 my logic is undeniable
1098281 now I gotta think of a cheesey line
Lol you put sultry instead if sulky unless thee where going to have depressed sex then I don't think you used the right word sorry it was they only thing that really came out and kicked me in the dick.