Melody and Heartstrings
“Ready for your most favorite game ever?”
“Hoo, boy, can’t wait to see how this goes.”
“Trust me, Davie, they love it!”
Although still disturbed from our meeting with Trixie, Pinkie and I had decided that, while the poor mare did indeed merit special consideration, it wouldn’t help matters if we just dwelt on it hour by hour. We’d resolved to meet her problem at the appropriate time, while also giving her space. Under this logic, we had returned to Sugarcube Corner, where, after lunch, my pastel-pink pal was preparing playtime with Pound and Pumpkin. Try saying that three times fast.
Pinkie’s idea of their favorite game was to position herself behind the swinging doors that led into the kitchen, standing on her hind legs. I was sitting, cross-legged, beside the curious toddler-foals. As I was seated, I became dimly aware of an odd movement against my wrist, and looking down, I saw that Pumpkin had put her little mouth around my wristwatch and was sucking on it.
“Ech!” I groaned, pulling my hand away. “Don’t don’t that, Pumpkin! You don’t know where it’s been.”
The little filly just blinked at me in mute curiosity, and I wiped the watch as best I could with a corner of my shirt.
“Good thing this thing’s waterproof,” I muttered.
“Where’s Pinkie Pie?” asked Pinkie, in a singsong voice.
Then, without warning, she swung the doors open and popped her head through.
“HERE I AM!”
“GAH!” I yelped, actually startled by the abruptness of her maneuver.
It did, however, succeed in making the babies laugh. Pinkie went back into position.
“Where’s Pinkie Pie?…HERE I AM!”
“How does she do that?” I asked, in feigned amazement, to the two, who gurgled with glee.
Pinkie kept this up several times, delighting the twins each and every time, and I played along, making pretend shows of surprise at her every appearance. On one such time, however, she bounded right through the doors, perhaps out of an excess of enthusiasm, and I found myself sprawled on the floor with her on top of me, in a very Tigger-ish fashion. Pound and Pumpkin gurgled and giggled at the sight.
As much as it was uncomfortable to have her suddenly landing on me, as she wasn’t quite so light, seeing that big goofy smile on her face made all forgiven. Besides, after the scare I’d given her last night, I had to be more careful about her feelings. This, in itself, was unbelievable, as a week hadn’t even elapsed during my stay, and I‘d already been through so much. Now I knew how they felt on Namek…
“Something wrong, Davie?” Pinkie asked, somewhat concerned. “I didn’t land too hard, did I?”
“Eh? No, no, of course not, Pinkie. You didn’t do anything wrong, though I can certainly say I never saw it coming.”
“That’s the Pinkie Pie way: catch them when they least expect it!” said Pinkie, proudly.
“Is that how you do surprise parties?”
“Hey, yeah! You catch on quick!”
“Just a lucky guess.”
Pinkie bounced off of me, and I was able to get back up.
“So, is that all it takes to make these kids laugh?” I asked.
“Not always. Let me tell you, though, we go through a lot of flour just to keep them satisfied when they’re at their crankiest.”
“I’d imagine…Wait, did you say flour?”
But Pinkie went on as if I hadn’t asked this question.
“And their taste in comedy, good grief! I throw out my best material at them, and not even a giggle!”
“Really? Well, I love a good joke every know and then, even the cornier stuff.”
“Ooh, you do? Let’s hear one!”
“Right now? ...Sure, why not?”
“Yay!”
Pinkie had a smile on her face that looked as if I’d just made her day. Then again, it was a lot like every other smile she had in her facial arsenal. I thought for a moment, then grinned as I remembered an old classic.
“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting cow.”
“Interrupting c-”
“MOOOOO!”
Pinkie just stared, surprised. It seemed as if that variety of joke had slipped past her radar. Now for Phase 2.
“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting sheep.”
“Interrupting sh-”
“BAAAAAA!”
Pinkie looked more confused than ever, but then, an expression of dawning comprehension came over her face,
“Ohhh,” she said to herself, and her grin returned. “Knock knock!”
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting hoof.”
I raised an eyebrow, almost afraid of where she was gonna go with this.
“Interrupting h-”
“HONK!”
And she booped my nose with her hoof. I chuckled.
“You catch on quick, don’t you?”
“Just a lucky guess,” she said, still grinning.
*WHACK!*
“YEOWCH!!”
While we had been engaged in the jokes, Pound, thinking that he and his sister were being ignored, had taken it upon himself to restore our attention to them by slapping his little hooves down on my hand. The babies laughed at my grimace of pain, as they had done when we’d first encountered each other.
“Guess that’s Pound’s ‘interrupting hoof’,” said Pinkie, apologetically.
“Such delightful little tykes,” I muttered to myself, through clenched teeth. I then said, aloud, “Listen, Pinkie, I’m gonna go take a walk. I think the babies are safe enough in your hooves.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!” said Pinkie. “It’s snack time anyway. Come on, Pound, Pumpkin!”
With that, she scooped the toddler foals onto her back and carried them off toward the kitchen, while I stepped out, nursing my “Pound”-ed hand.
***
“If I develop arthritis because of that kid,” I muttered to myself as I went out, “and in my good hand, too. Then again, if he keeps that up, he might prove useful in the kitchen when he gets older, crushing nuts or pounding dough, long as he’s not pulverizing bones.”
Soon, though, my grumblings subsided, along with the pain in my hand, and I found myself wandering once more through the streets of Ponyville. To think how many times I must have wandered back and forth down this single street, yet I still didn’t completely know my way around. The only places I knew for sure were the paths to my friends’ houses. Well, never mind. There was plenty of time for that.
I paused to collect my thoughts and contemplate where I should go, when I suddenly became aware of music drifting through the air. It was low, deep, and sonorous, and seemed to be coming from a string instrument. As best I could, I followed it along the street to a colorfully painted candy shop, the sign above it reading 'Bon Bon’s Bonbons'. So this was where Lyra’s friend worked.
Wait a minute…Lyra! That was it! I was now in a perfect position to invite the human-crazy pony to the Q&A! With this in mind, I opened the door and stepped inside. A bell tinkled, but as the music was still playing, nopony was alerted to my entrance. I therefore stood off to the side so as not to disturb what I had just walked into.
Lyra and Bon Bon were seated on a pair of wooden stools, alongside, to my wonderment, Vinyl Scratch, the DJ from Pinkie’s party. They had their eyes on a mare who was standing before them on her hind legs, playing a cello that was even taller than herself, and it was this instrument that had drawn me to the candy shop.
She had a light gray coat, with a black, neatly coiffed mane and tail, a slender, elegant figure, a white collar with a pink bow tie around her neck, and a cutie mark resembling a pink treble cleft. At first, how she was holding the bow to her cello in her hoof was a complete mystery to me. It was almost as if pony hooves were like magnets. However, by squinting my eyes, I saw that she actually had it clutched in her fore-ankle. Was that the right word for it?
The mare concluded her performance and opened her eyes, which had been closed as she played. They were mulberry pink and quite pretty. The ponies that made up her audience applauded, and she gave a short bow.
“Beautiful, Octavia! Simply beautiful!” said Bon Bon.
“Now, I haven’t got much of an ear for the classical stuff,” said Vinyl, in her laid-back way, “but you were awesome, Octy!”
Octavia? So this was Vinyl and Lyra’s friend from Canterlot, the symphony cellist. Had she come to Ponyville to visit her friends? She was such a stark contrast to them, with her elegant poise and lofty appearance. Even her rather muted coloring gave the impression that she wasn’t as loose as her companions.
Octavia tenderly lay her cello down in its case beside her, as if it were her baby, closed it up, and sat down next to Vinyl.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to call me ‘Octy’ in public, Vinyl,” she said, in a refined, even-tempered voice.
“What, I gotta ask permission now?” asked Vinyl. “What are you, my mom? I don’t need anypony to tell me what I can or can’t do. I’m a free spirit, and no rule keeps its hold on DJ P0N-3.”
“Yes, your poor teachers back in school were a testament to that little credo of yours,” said Octavia, stiffly.
Vinyl just scoffed.
“Lyra? What did you think?” asked Bon Bon, turning to her unicorn friend.
“Eh, it was decent,” she said, dismissively.
Octavia merely raised an eyebrow.
“Decent,” she echoed. “I find it funny, Lyra, that you label my playing as ‘decent’ when it’s I, and not you, who is a member of the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra. Those who can’t display evidence of higher accomplishments should refrain from such baseless commentary.”
Lyra’s cheeks colored.
“When did I ever say I wanted to be a part of that pack of stuck-up musical snobs?!”
“You were certainly very animated about being a member when we were fillies," said Octavia, with a knowing smirk.
“That was back then, ok? I was young and stupid. Things change, Octy.”
Now it was Octavia’s turn to blush as Vinyl roared with laughter. Lyra crossed her hooves and smirked with self-satisfaction. It was hard to tell whether or not they always treated each other like this, but I wanted to assume it really was all in good fun.
“Very well, Lyra, very well,” said Octavia, still in control, despite the embarrassment. “Yes, you were young and stupid back then. Now you’re just stupid.”
“Ooh! Burn!” hooted Vinyl.
Lyra gave a short, derisive laugh.
“Like I haven’t heard that before.”
“Funny thing, actually," said Octavia. "Vinyl told me you finally managed to encounter one of your little ‘humans’ that you love to prattle on about. If it hadn’t been for the fact that this news came from her, and that, by her claim, he was a guest at a party she was attending as DJ, I would have simply classified it as another of your fantasies. As of now, I’m still doubtful.”
“Well, he’s not a fantasy!” said Lyra, sharply. “You’ll see him for yourself soon enough!”
(Sooner than you think.)
“Very well, Lyra,” said Octavia, in a more civil tone. “You’ve spoken your mind, now let’s hear your piece.”
“Thank you, Octavia.”
Lyra stood up and trotted up to where Octavia had stood and played. Held in her unicorn’s telekinesis was a golden lyre, just like her cutie mark. Using another burst of her magic, she dragged her stool over behind her, and she sat down upon it.
It’s funny how anyone can be visibly transformed just by the accompaniment of a musical instrument. Despite her rounded belly and messy mane, Lyra managed to look very refined, seated with the lyre held in front of her. She drew her hoof across the strings, and the shop became filled with an angelic reverberation of the chords. Then, as she began to play, she began to sing, and lo and behold, it was another song I knew. Somehow, someway, Equestria was cognizant of songs I knew back in the human world. Now there was something worth telling Twilight when I had the chance.
“A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you’re fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep...”
She had a beautiful voice to accompany her beautiful playing, proving that beneath her more casual appearance, she had the traits of a musical diva.
I couldn’t help myself. Even as the others started applauding as she finished, I joined in, stepping forward as I did so, foregoing my resolution to stay hidden a little longer. Of course, this additional applause drew their attention, and while Lyra, Bon Bon, and Vinyl looked delighted to see me, Octavia looked surprised, no doubt from having to now eat her own words at seeing the proof of Lyra’s tale.
“Lyra, that was absolutely charming,” I told the unicorn lyrist, making her beam in delight. “Hello, Bon Bon, Vinyl.”
“Hello, Dave.”
“‘Sup, bro?”
“And you, I presume, are Miss Octavia? Delighted.”
I took her hoof in my hand and bowed. She still looked perplexed.
“Well,” she said, after a pause, “I can see that my friends were speaking the truth after all: there is a human in Ponyville. I must say, I never expected the first one I’d meet to be so…polite.”
“My good lady,” I said, “though other members of my species may not show much promise to it, many of us have risen beyond our primitive customs of clubbing each other with sticks and knocking each other’s brains out with rocks. I say that because, even today, unfortunately, some of my fellow humans still act like they belong in the age of the dinosaurs.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling,” said Octavia, wryly, giving a glance at Vinyl, who had begun head-banging to what I presumed to be a song in her head.
“If I may say so,” I said, “your music was splendid. It’s actually what drew me here.”
“Really, now? You’re too kind.”
“No, no, I mean it. Lyra wasn’t joking when she said you were a celebrated cellist of the symphony orchestra.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” asked Octavia, amused.
She glanced at Lyra, who averted her eyes.
“A ‘celebrated cellist’, you told him? Yet you just told me, only a few minutes ago, that my music was ‘decent’.”
“Ok, ok, you made your point,” muttered Lyra. “You were better than decent, Octavia. You were fantastic.”
“Thank you, Lyra. You were quite splendid yourself, I must say.”
Lyra looked up, and saw that Octavia was actually smiling, so she smiled in return.
“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” I said, clapping my hands together, “I’m here to deliver a message.”
“A message? For who?” asked Bon Bon.
“For Lyra.”
“Me?”
“Is there somewhere we could discuss this in private? I’d like for it to remain a bit more on the confidential side.”
“Uh, sure. Is it all right if we use the storeroom, Bonnie?”
“Of course, go ahead."
Lyra led me away into the back, while the conversation renewed between Bon Bon and the two musicians.
***
Lyra took me into the storeroom of the candy shop, which was packed with shelf upon shelf of jarred and boxed confections: chocolate, sweet, sour, fruity, chewy, crunchy. Being possessed of a rather strong sweet tooth, I felt like a kid in a, well, a candy store.
"So, what’s this message you’ve got for me?” Lyra asked.
I cleared my throat and stood as if I were delivering a telegram.
“Miss Lyra Heartstrings, it is my warm and distinct pleasure to announce a Q&A I’m conducting with Miss Twilight Sparkle, the purpose of which will be to answer and discuss questions and topics concerning the human world, as best as I can describe to my knowledge. Seeing as you have a strong interest in the subject of humans, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you would be interested in attending.”
I paused, waiting to hear Lyra’s answer. She just stared at me with those orange eyes, looking as if her brain had just blue-screened. Then, without warning, she let out a high-pitched squeal equal to that of a teenage girl being asked out on her first date, and then began bouncing around me like an overjoyed rabbit, spouting a long string of “Thankyouthankyouthankyou”s until the individual words became nearly indistinguishable.
“So, that’s a yes?” I asked.
“Oh, praise Celestia, yes!” she said, finally stopping in front of me. “Dave, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for a moment like this! Finally, finally, I’m gonna get the answers I’ve been waiting for!”
She looked so happy that she actually started to cry. Smiling gently, I ruffled her mane.
“You deserve it, Lyra, after being labeled crazy for so long. It’ll be tomorrow at 2, Twilight’s library. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect! I’ll be there! Oh, thanks again, Dave. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She threw her hooves around my neck in a hug and, to my utter bewilderment, planted a kiss on my cheek.
This had to be, what, the third time I’d been kissed by a pony? First was Berry Punch, who was intoxicated at the time, and then Pinkie, out of grateful affection for having me back safe and sound. Still, I suppose I could forgive Lyra for this one, seeing as how I was practically inviting her to make her biggest wish in the world come true. It was understandable that she’d react so strongly.
“You’re very welcome, Lyra,” I said, giving her a small squeeze-hug. “Now, I’d hate to leave you like this, but this is really all I came for. On the other hand, since this is my first time here, is there anything you’d recommend for a first time patron of Bon Bon’s Bonbons, seeing as how you have a close affiliation with the owner?”
“Definitely!” said Lyra, her eyes lighting up. “I’ll see what Bonnie can ring up for you. It’s the least I can do for this humongous favor you’re doing me!”
“In all truth, Lyra, I’d have done it for nothing but to see you smile because of it, but I’ll gladly take you up on your offer.”
“Great!”
With that, she got back on all fours and led me back out into the main shop, starting to list off what were, in her opinion, Bon Bon’s chief delicacies, and which she guaranteed I would have a generous sample of to take with me. I resolved to save some for Pinkie, as I highly doubted I could eat all I’d be offered by myself.
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If anyone is curious why I choose outside songs that already exist, I must confess that I'm not too good at composing my own, since all the good melodies seem to be taken. ^^; Anyway, I thought it was harmless enough. The song is "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" from Cinderella, originally sung by Ilene Woods. =)
Also, check my blog, as I have a challenge for those of you following along. =)
1380550
Ah, once again, vocabulary rears its head to bite me in the ass. I'll revise it.
Good stuff. Keep it up.
1380622 Cause Grammer hitler demands Perfection!!!!!!
1412231
I don't really think Dave's gonna argue about that. He went into the forest without consulting anyone else beyond Cheerilee and the Crusaders, so he probably feels he deserved it for worrying everypony else sick. Then again, I might have been looking at it differently.
Twould seem that Lyra's room mate be a Bonny lassie indeed!
2743141 Oh. That made me groan... Then laugh. Thumbs up friend.
Once again A PERFECT discription of the human race by Dave
1380046 Mr.Author is neglecting the the errors we point out.
“Ech!” I groaned, pulling it away. “Don’t don’t that, Pumpkin! You don’t know where it’s been.” Don't don't that.
I've had this Happen before. I was at a party and my friend's little brother (about 5 or 6 at the time) wanted attention.
Rather than speak up like a civilized person, he decided the best course of action was to slam one of those rocks that had been cut to show the geodes inside down on my knuckles.
For the first time ever i was happy to reflexively deck a child in the face.
I now hold a firm hate for children.
4385887 So... you hate children huh?
"(Insert Willy Wonka meme here)"
5078476 cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/59126679.jpg
I'm not sure if the babys can really hurt him that much.
7576993 I can only agree with that.