A Shift In Gears

by BlackRoseRaven

Melody

Chapter Four: Melody

The first few weeks with Moonbeam as their 'houseguest' had been a little rocky, but now that they had a whole month behind them, she honestly seemed to be settling in, and Vinyl had adjusted with some reluctance to Moonbeam's presence. Octavia still found it funny how Vinyl had clearly had no problem at all with Moonbeam being a Changeling, but rather, had been complaining about a 'lack of privacy,' although Octavia had no idea what that meant.

It wasn't like they didn't all have their rooms, and Vinyl didn't want a lock or anything, and didn't seem to be referring to the fact that she wanted time alone: what other kind of privacy was there, though?

Ponies. They confused her sometimes.

Moonbeam had been taking to life in Ponyville well, at least: sure, for the first few days she had been extremely hesitant to leave the house, but Octavia thought that was less because she was embarrassed about her prosthetic limbs or concerned about ponies figuring out she was a Changeling, and more because she was scared that she was going to walk a foot too far away from the house and be cast out forever.

It wasn't like Octavia could entirely blame the poor girl, though: she had been exiled from her Hive and she was clearly afraid that if she did the wrong thing, they were going to exile her, too. But Octavia had no plans for that. She was well aware of the fact that they couldn't just take care of Moonbeam forever, but they had plenty of time to figure things out and help Moonbeam adjust to life here in Ponyville, and of course, Octavia was still learning plenty about both the Changeling and how her prostheses were functioning.

Her Type II limbs were holding up very well: they were versatile, durable, and capable. But they had required too many adjustments, Octavia thought: she had underestimated how much use they would be getting and how long it would take Moonbeam to really be able to control them. It wasn't that she had accidents on a normal day, but when she stumbled she tended to throw a hoof straight out, and the prosthetic leg she caught herself on always overcompensated, resulting in her stomping a hole through whatever was in front of her. Likewise, when she had once attempted to wiggle her prosthetic limbs into boots, stepping down several times had triggered the overcompensation effect and she had torn the boot in half and punched a hole in the floor, much to her embarrassment and Vinyl's chagrin.

Octavia would have to adjust for that, but she wasn't quite sure how: she wanted Moonbeam to be able to defend herself in a worst-case scenario as well. But perhaps if she hooked up an adrenal sensor of some kind, the limbs wouldn't gear up to full kinetic output every time Moonbeam stumbled a little or tried to put her hoof into a shoe.

Being able to watch Moonbeam in a more natural setting was helping a lot with working out the flaws in her designs, however, and Octavia had also run through a few different methods of at least hiding the limbs, since the Changeling was still very self-conscious about them. Leggings worked fairly well, but by themselves they left the metal sockets and hooves exposed: boots were out of the question, but wraparound rubber hoof shoes helped disguise her balance pegs. Long clothes helped, but anything too light or fluttery got caught in the joints and breaks in the mechanisms.

She thought that ultimately the best thing she could do to 'conceal' the limbs was to just paint them the same color as Moonbeam was. That way, at a distance at least, they would be difficult to identify as synthetic.

It really wasn't important, Octavia knew: one way or another, Moonbeam would have to learn to swallow that self-consciousness and concentrate on herself. It was funny, she reflected, how a Changeling of all creatures could be so anxious about what other ponies thought of her: but then again, she supposed the Changelings were meant to try and blend into a crowd and not draw attention. She imagined that being stared at was likely unpleasant for most of them.

Octavia hummed a little under her breath at the kitchen table as she sorted through her research notes: overall, she was very pleased, though. Things were going very smoothly, and since Moonbeam had been opening up more, she had been able to fill in several gaps in the research of the other Luciferin. And with all of Ponyville and the surrounding area as their playground, she had been able to put Moonbeam's limbs through several real-world stress tests they hadn't been able to do in Square Hammer's labs, such as climbing a mountain, or a hike through the forest. Moonbeam had been happy to comply: really, Octavia thought, she had been delighted to go on those little trips with her and Vinyl.

She did wonder about how much love Moonbeam was taking in, and where she was getting those emotions from, but at the same time, she knew that Changelings didn't need to feed on love as regularly as ponies ate. While they had attempted to gather love in massive amounts from Canterlot, much of that love would have been taken back to the Hive, to be fed to their young and stored for later.

Sometimes Octavia wondered what would have happened if the attack on Canterlot had been successful: would the Changelings have taken hostages, or only drained their victims as much as possible before leaving? Would the Changelings have enslaved them or taken control of Equestria, or would they have simply returned to their Hive and only come back to Equestria whenever they wanted to feed?

Moonbeam wasn't exactly being open on that front, but Octavia didn't think it was just because the answers might not be pleasant: she thought Moonbeam might actually not know herself. 'Changelings did what they were told' was something that the mare had repeated to her several times over: it made Octavia wonder what the Changelings would be like if they weren't under the authority of a predatory queen.

Octavia mused on this for a moment, then frowned and looked up as Vinyl poked her head around the door, looking at her pointedly. Octavia narrowed her eyes at her, before the unicorn said in a mild voice: “You know you're supposed to be practicing, right?”

For a moment, the earth pony blanked, before she blinked and then nodded quickly, clearing her throat as she straightened. “Well, yes. Yes, but don't worry, I'm very familiar with the music and-”

Vinyl grinned at her, and Octavia scowled before the unicorn remarked: “It's funny how you always make excuses about practicing your stupid bass. That's like the only thing you ever make excuses about, too.”

“It's a cello, thank you very much, and I am not making excuses. I know the songs backwards and forwards and I am very confident in my competency. Besides, I have research to do.” Octavia argued, gesturing at the papers in front of her, and Vinyl rolled her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah, right. Your research can wait a few hours, Tavi. Seriously, just take some time and do a bit of practice for a little bit.” Vinyl replied mildly, leaning in the doorway and crossing her forelegs before she added: “I think Moonbeam likes listening to your music anyway. I think she has sort of a crush on you.”

“I'm still not sure whether or not Changelings can love.” Octavia replied bluntly, and then she glowered again at the way Vinyl only grinned at her. But then again, Scratch had always been able to see right through her, for all her other flaws. “I don't really feel that way about Moonbeam and Moonbeam is aware of that. Besides, it's better not to become too involved with my patients.”

“You're no fun. I mean, hey, Moonbeam is... sort of both?” Vinyl fumbled for a moment, then cleared her throat before she asked in a rather pathetic attempt to be subtle: “Which uh... which would you prefer for the... you know? The mare parts or the stallion parts? Uh. Just out of curiosity, since we're on the subject.”

Octavia looked dryly at Vinyl Scratch for a few moments, and then she rolled her eyes before she looked back down at her research notes, pointedly ignoring the unicorn. Vinyl cleared her throat loudly again, then she finally huffed before crossing the kitchen, heading over the coffeemaker as she said grumpily: “Well, you should at least put in some practice.”

“On the mare parts or the stallion parts?” Octavia asked grouchily from the table, and Vinyl giggled before she blushed and cleared her throat, forcing herself to glare at the earth pony.

“On your cello. Everypony gets out of practice, you know. You want to do good at your little concerto or whatever, right?”

“It will only be a short solo performance. Nothing spectacular. A foal could play it.” Octavia answered, returning her eyes to her research before she looked up with Vinyl knocked firmly on the wooden tabletop, sighing and raising her eyes. “Scratch-”

“Tavi, do it for me, then. I know that any foal can play your dumb bass-” Octavia scowled, but then softened as the unicorn continued in a gentler voice: “But you and I both know it takes a lot more than just hitting the right notes to make it sing. Come on. Do some practice.”

Octavia fidgeted in her seat, and then she finally rolled her eyes and sighed tiredly, nodding grudgingly once before she put down her research papers. She lingered for a moment longer, but then pushed herself out of her seat, muttering: “Very well. I... suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

“Good. I'll help. I bet Moonbeam'd love to listen too.” Vinyl paused, then asked curiously: “In all your notes there, did you ever find out if Changelings can like... copy anyone's talents? I get that they do that thing where they sort of imitate a pony's natural abilities, but could Moonbeam like, copy your ability to do a groovy bassline or my skills as a DJ?”

“I do not play 'groovy basslines,' and whether or not your idea of DJing requires any skill is... arguable.” Octavia said pettishly, and Vinyl huffed at her before the mare hesitated, then said finally: “Changelings imitate. They don't truly learn and are not capable of performing beyond the imitation. That often leaves their skills seeming... wooden.”

“I don't see what trees have to do with anything.” Vinyl said mildly, and Octavia gave the unicorn a horrible look, making her grin a bit before she said: “So if you played a set of chords, Moonbeam could probably mimic that same set of chords... but she'd do it without understanding the how or why, right?”

That was surprisingly apt, Octavia thought, studying Vinyl for a moment before she gave a nod and a brief smile. “Correct. The arts, of course, are even harder for Changelings to properly grasp: it's not that they don't understand emotions, perhaps better than ponies, even, but it requires more of a... sense of self. A desire to express our individuality, or our emotions. Changelings... I think, more than not having those things, Changelings hide the fact that they do.”

Vinyl nodded slowly, before she said after a moment: “So Moonbeam is trying to... what, find herself, then? Because I mean, I see her trying things out and all. There were a few days where she was trying to copy your accent, I thought that was pretty cute. And she tries to play the instruments around the house and listens to music and reads a lot.”

“I don't think either of us can really imagine what it's like for her right now, Scratch. She lost everything: her home, her purpose, whatever passes for friends and family among the Changelings.” Octavia shrugged, then she sighed a little and gave a wry smile. “She comes from a society where every last little thing is set to schedules, where you are given a time and a place for every single thing you do. That was part of why she did so well in Square Hammer's labs, and yet here, she seems more... lost. She doesn't know what to do with these freedoms and trust we've given her.”

“I guess a month isn't that long a time to adjust.” Vinyl admitted, shrugging a bit before she poured herself a mug of coffee. She sipped at it, then hesitated before asking: “Do you think she's going to get there? Like, is she ever going to be okay?”

“I do. I believe she needs structure in her life, first and foremost, though: she seems much happier when we give her little chores to do, after all.” Octavia answered, smiling briefly.

“I guess. I just hate to treat her like a slave. I mean. I'm still grumpy about losing my jam space-”

“You have a 'jam space' in the basement, Scratch.” Octavia pointed out, and Vinyl huffed at this.

“Yeah, well, the acoustics were better in that room. And it was better for like. My mind's eye.” Vinyl said, waving her hooves around and nearly spilling her coffee all over herself.

Octavia gave the unicorn a flat look, then she shook her head briefly before she pushed herself up from the table, turning and heading out of the kitchen. She scowled as Vinyl ambled after her, following her to her bedroom, but even though the gray mare pointedly ignored her friend, Vinyl continued to linger in the doorway, shifting a little on her hooves.

Octavia finally looked up grumpily at the mare, but Vinyl only smiled awkwardly before she asked hesitantly: “What do we do for her? I mean... I'm fine with her hanging out here as long as she needs, especially when she's so happy to help out and stuff, and like... I really sympathize with her, but... I don't think we can take care of her forever.”

Octavia frowned as she lugged the case containing her cello up onto her bed: she looked at Vinyl, who was standing at the doorway of her neat little room, obviously nervous about intruding into her little domain. Her room was perfect, prim and neat, everything perfectly organized, and yet it was both the smallest of the bedrooms in the household and it had the fewest personal touches: even Moonbeam's had some scattering of personal objects now, in the shape of little drawings, and a few pictures she had taken of herself.

“I won't bite, Scratch.” Octavia said dryly, and Vinyl smiled awkwardly as she shrugged a little.

“I know. But you respect my space and I'll respect yours and all that. I'm just trying to be better about things.” Vinyl answered, rubbing at her head before she continued in a quieter voice: “I'm not saying I'm against her staying here or anything, just... you know. I don't think we'd make good parents.”

Octavia couldn't help but smile a little at this, answering: “I don't think we have to be her parents, Scratch. She doesn't need that much guidance. She just needs a schedule, she needs to feel that she fits in. And she's very worried that she's getting in the way here and that she's a burden. I think once she realizes that she's not, that she's a...”

Octavia quieted, and Vinyl frowned for a moment before she brightened, leaning forwards and asking teasingly: “Friend?”

“It's not proper for me to be a 'friend' to Moonbeam. She is my patient and I am glad to give her advice and counsel, but it would be improper to be her friend.” Octavia said stiffly, but Vinyl only smiled, watching Octavia drag her cello out of its case before the earth pony mare sighed and dropped the heavy instrument across her lap, idly plucking at a few strings before she muttered: “I'm trying to learn from my mistakes.”

“You've worked with her for months now. Tavi, it's natural that you know, you're going to develop some feelings for her. Even you.” Vinyl said reasonably, before she sipped at her coffee, then said in a softer voice: “I know no one can really force you to feel what you don't want to or anything, but... maybe Moonbeam's all awkward because she feels you trying to keep her at a leg's length.”

Octavia scowled at Vinyl, but she hated how that simple deduction was... she's probably right.

Vinyl grinned a little at her, and Octavia hated that, too: but whenever the unicorn smiled, she always wanted to smile herself. But instead, she sighed and shook her head, looking grouchily away before she grumbled: “Perhaps I will... discuss the merits of our professional relationship with Moonbeam at some point. But for now I have to practice. Shoo.”

“Oh, don't be like that, Tavi. Come on, let's go down to the jam room. I'll tell you all the ways you're playing your double bass wrong.”

“Cello.” Octavia corrected pettishly, and then she sighed again before nodding grudgingly. Before she could pick up the instrument, however, Vinyl quickly snatched it in telekinesis – visibly wincing at its weight and nearly dropping her coffee – and then she puffed and turned, quickly making her way out of the room, Octavia grimacing as the heavy instrument listed from side-to-side and nearly cracked off the wall. “Scratch, be careful!”

“I got it!” Vinyl complained as she headed to the door leading downstairs, and Octavia grumbled as she followed grumpily after the mare. She frowned a little as they descended to the basement, Vinyl placing her cello in the stand at one corner of the cozy little room, but Octavia was more curious about the figure sitting in the recliner.

“Moonbeam, what are you doing here?” she asked, and Vinyl cleared her throat loudly, but Octavia only gave the unicorn a dry look. She didn't think Moonbeam was going to care all that much about her word choice.

The chocolate-colored mare shifted awkwardly, tapping her rubberized hooves together before she said finally: “I just... I guess I needed a break. Ponyville is very exciting, but I think all that emotional energy in the air... it's just making me a little fat.”

Moonbeam gave a small smile, but Octavia softened: she thought she understood. Changelings fed off love, among other emotions, but they weren't used to it in great abundance. She imagined that always having those emotions pressing in on you from all sides was suffocating, after a while. “Of course.”

“Hey, don't worry about it. You can listen to Tavi here. You should come to the performance, too.” Vinyl said with a smile, and Moonbeam blushed but smiled hesitantly at this, nodding a little before she bit her lip as she instinctively looked at Octavia.

Octavia, however, only shrugged and sighed a little before she said finally: “If you would like, you're free to stay. I don't mind practicing with people I know present. And it is always nice to see familiar faces in the crowd.”

“I didn't even know you were giving a concert tomorrow. I'm sorry.” Moonbeam said, but Octavia only smiled wryly as she glanced over at Vinyl Scratch.

“No need to apologize, Moonbeam. Besides, I don't think I would have remembered myself if not for a certain annoying little bird that insists on harping in my ear.” Octavia gave a brief tilt of her head to Vinyl, who huffed at her before the earth pony made her way over to the cello, gently grasping it and adjusting it in its stand before she sighed and straightened.

She reached her other hoof down, then quietly plucked across the strings, making the cello reverberate as a brief smile crossed her muzzle. She closed her eyes, then leaned a little more into the heavy bass instrument as she stroked down the bridge of the instrument, feeling each note vibrate through her entire body.

It was always so hard to put down everything else: her research, her housework, her countless little chores. Music was a silly thing: frivolous, unimportant, meant for enjoyment and not work. So it was always hard for her to get started, to convince herself that there was some kind of meaning to it.

But once she started playing, her whole body resonated with every note, and she lost track of time as she plucked through the strings, adjusting her hoof and movements as she let herself pick up a deep, jazzy bassline.

She hummed softly under her breath, letting the rhythm of the music flow through her, fill her up, clear her mind and take everything else away. That was why it was her special talent, she thought: because when she played, it consumed her. Everything else went away and there was only the music.

After letting herself relax and warm up with the smooth enjoyment of the jazz line, she picked up the bow for her cello and let herself fall into a suite of classical compositions. She swayed a little as she played, her eyes closed, breathing softly in rhythm with the music. She let herself flow with the music, letting the discordant notes, the breaks in rhythm, the pauses for breath all join the melody, expressing herself and letting herself be vulnerable in that way she only could when the music took her over, and she forgot all the things she had striven so hard to learn.

Octavia played for almost an hour before she let the music fade out, and she blinked a few times before she huffed and shook herself out, like she'd just woken up from a refreshing nap. She stretched, then complained: “Scratch, I only wanted to practice for a few minutes. You might be content to fritter away your time doing nothing, but I still have plenty I have to get done.”

Vinyl only smiled a little as she sat back in the couch, silently studying her, and Octavia blushed a little before her eyes shifted to Moonbeam, who was leaning forwards almost out of her seat, eyes wide and horn faintly glowing with her telltale Changeling aura. Octavia wrinkled up her muzzle at this, and then she said shortly: “Horn, Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam blinked, then blushed and nodded, sitting back and calming the glow as she apologized. “I'm sorry, but the emotions in the air were just so... intense. It's like the music augments it somehow. I don't know how that's possible, really, but...”

“Hey, that's what music does! That's why it's so great.” Vinyl answered with a wink, reaching over to nudge Moonbeam gently. “When you listen to someone who really puts their heart into it, you can really feel their emotions. What did you feel, Moonbeam?”

“Sad.” Moonbeam blurted out, then she blushed and shrank her head between her shoulders as Octavia scowled, a faint flush rising at her own collar. “I um, I mean. I'm sorry.”

“Hey, don't be sorry. It's true. It was a little sad.” Vinyl shrugged a bit, looking pointedly at Octavia, who grumbled and shifted her eyes away before she gave a moody little shrug. “Music, I guess, is how some of us express our emotions and all... I mean, I do it all the time-”

“You select songs to play. That is the extent of your expressing your emotions.” Octavia said dryly, and Vinyl huffed loudly at her.

“Hey, I do a lot more than 'choose song, hit play button.'” argued the unicorn, before she turned her eyes to Moonbeam and informed: “Tavi's just jealous of how popular I am, and the super-elite skills I've groomed to become an amazing DJ.”

“I'm sorry, it always felt rude to ask, but... what instrument does a DJ play?” Moonbeam asked almost anxiously, and Vinyl Scratch looked at her dumbly as Octavia snorted in amusement, absently tightening her frets as she smiled over at at the unicorn.

“Yes, Scratch. Tell her what instrument you play.” she teased, and Vinyl scowled at her horribly.

The unicorn turned her eyes back to Moonbeam, and she hesitated before saying finally: “My thing is more making everyone else's instruments sound good, see? I do a bit of remixing and dubbing, too, but mostly I handle all the... the behind the scenes stuff, I guess you could say. A good DJ knows how to shut her mouth and get her job done and not pose in the limelight.”

“That must make you a terrible DJ.” Octavia said mildly, and Vinyl gave her a dry look.

“You know the party scene is different, Tavi. You gotta have personality, you gotta get people riled up and excited. You're an entertainer, but I'm a performer, get it?” Vinyl gestured a few times, before she smiled a bit and added: “Well, when I'm not backstage, that is. I do a lot of backstage work, too. I do the sound systems for concerts, conventions, all that jazz too.”

Octavia smiled a bit at this, relenting after a moment: “Yes, I will admit that... Scratch has a very fine ear. She's always been able to tell when the rhythm is off, even by a sixteenth of a beat, or to identify a string of notes. It's... impressive.”

She chuckled a little, then shook her head before adding dryly as Vinyl grinned at her: “Not that I want to inflate your ego more than it already is, of course. Just... know that I do recognize your talents, Scratch. I just wish that you would stick to what you're good at instead of blathering on about what you're not.”

“Hey, I'm good at music!” Vinyl paused, then she added almost grudgingly: “And I can play a few instruments. But when you have perfect pitch and ears like mine, it's tough, because you hear every note that's even a little off or wrong. Drives me nuts.”

“Even the discordant notes have a reason, a meaning behind them; accept them and move on. That's all you can do.” Octavia answered as she rubbed her bow across the strings, then glanced up questioningly at Vinyl Scratch.

The unicorn tilted her head slightly, then said after a moment: “C's off. Play A for me again?”

Octavia plucked it, and Vinyl chewed on a lip thoughtfully before she said: “Yeah, I think you overtightened it. Loosen it a turn or two.”

“How can you do that? It all sounds right to me.” Moonbeam asked incredulously, and Vinyl only grinned and shrugged before she winked overtop her sunglasses at the mare.

“I was just born with it. Maybe it's part of my special talent, maybe it's a skill I've gotten better at over time, I don't know. You just gotta learn to listen, Moonbeam. That's all.” Vinyl shrugged a bit, and then she smiled and nodded when Octavia ran her bow across the strings of her cello.

Octavia nodded her thanks in return before the earth pony looked up thoughtfully, saying: “Moonbeam, have you thought at all about trying to find your own special talent? I understand you can mimic your predecessor's to some extent, but I'm sure you must have your own interests.”

Moonbeam shifted embarrassedly at this, biting her lip for a moment before she shook her head and said almost apologetically: “I'm not really a pony. And Changelings are all the same, I don't think we really have any special talents of our own...”

“Nonsense. Even if you aren't born with inherent abilities, you are still shaped by your experiences just as ponies are. And, just like ponies, you can choose what you do with your life: whether or not you develop a skill set of your own or choose to explore what makes you unique is all entirely up to you.” Octavia answered, and Moonbeam blushed and bowed her head with a small smile.

She didn't say anything, and Octavia could almost sense the discomfort from the mare. She softened a little, but all the same clucked her tongue before she said gently: “Moonbeam, there's nothing wrong with being an individual. I know that it's not easy to deal with all these changes, but you have an opportunity to learn who you are now.”

“I... suppose. But it's hard.” Moonbeam tapped her front hooves together, then she studied the steel prostheses silently for a few moments before she said quietly: “I don't feel very much like a pony, either. Especially not with... with these.”

She gestured with her steel forelimbs, then she grimaced a bit as she wiggled her rear legs. But Octavia only smiled a little, encouraging after a moment: “Give it time. I understand it's very difficult right now, but you will adjust. Look at how natural they've started to become-”

“There's nothing natural about me!” Moonbeam blurted, and then she blushed as she dropped her head, Octavia frowning as Vinyl gazed at her silently.

Moonbeam's eyes wandered to the side as she chewed on her lip for a few moments, and then she shook her head briefly before she said finally: “I just can't stop thinking about the Hive. It doesn't bother me that I can still sort of hear it these days... it doesn't even bother me that I'm not part of that... that they think I'm a pony now, like I've become... one of you. I... I like feeling like a pony. I want to have my own thoughts, my own dreams, my own talents...

“But I don't really believe I can.” Moonbeam looked down at her metal legs, flexing the rubberized hoof-ends slowly. “I know everything about this mare I've become and yet, at the same time, I don't know her at all. I'm not very good at acting like her, the way she's supposed to be. I like helping out around the town and I like being with these ponies, but it feels like everything I do, I do wrong. I... I think I care about you both, but I don't know what it means, if that makes any sense. And I'm... I'm afraid that one day...”

Moonbeam looked away, before she glanced up in surprise when Vinyl reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently, smiling overtop her sunglasses as she said softly: “Hey, now calm down, huh? You worry too much, Moonbeam. I mean, you're never going to find yourself like this, anyway. You need to relax. Take it slow. It takes everypony a long time to find themselves and you... I guess you're sort of like a kid, just learning about the world.”

Moonbeam didn't look entirely thrilled with his comparison, but Octavia smiled despite herself: Vinyl had the gist of it. She just lacked a certain tact. “What my friend is trying to say is that even us ponies, even with our cutie marks and our special talents and the things that make us unique and mentors and magic to guide us... we're just as lost as you.”

Octavia hesitated for a moment, and then she silently plucked across the strings of her instrument before she bowed her head and said softly: “When I was young, all I wanted to do was follow in the footsteps of my family. But I discovered that my talent wasn't for science, it was for music. I was one of the earliest in my class to receive my cutie mark, and they all awed over me, and yet I felt like I had been cursed.

“It didn't matter that I had already been helping my father with mathematical calculations, or that I was reading decades above my level, or that I was capable of understanding how to counterbalance machinery and magic. I thought that as my talent was music, I had no choice but to pursue a career in it. I thought that it meant everything else I had learned and trained in was all in vain.” Octavia smiled briefly. “I was a dramatic filly. But I suppose... I didn't understand back then that I had a choice.

“It took months for me to start coping with the fact that my special talent was not what I wanted it to be. Longer still for me to realize that just because my special talent was for playing music, that it didn't mean the skills – skills I worked for, honed, practiced endlessly! – were tarnished by my talent being something I had never dreamed it was.

“I realized later that my ability to craft and play music lent itself to my mathematical skills: that understanding rhythm helped me understand better the way pistons must fire, how the machinery must work in tandem with the beat of magic.” Octavia bit her lip, then she shook her head as she murmured: “But it took me years, all the same, to balance my skills and accept that I was not entirely the pony I wanted to be. Even now sometimes I look at my cutie mark, and while I understand why it is music, I wish all the same that it was different.”

Octavia fell quiet, Vinyl looking at her tenderly as Moonbeam studied the mare for a few moments in quiet herself, before she asked: “Why is it music, then? How can you understand that, but not like that part of yourself?”

“I don't dislike it either.” Octavia said almost pettishly, and Moonbeam blushed. The gray mare hesitated for a moment, but then she sighed a little: why avoid the question when she had already revealed everything else? “Because music soothes me. Fills me with peace. Makes me forget everything else, and it is... it is pure. It's uncomfortably optimistic of me to say, but I believe that ponies are good creatures at heart: that even if some of us stumble off the path, we all begin with talents that are meant for good, to better and further each other. Music calms. Music soothes. Music enables understanding across gulfs that no other message could hope to cross.

“And my skills, as much as they are meant to assist, Moonbeam...” Octavia shrugged, gesturing at the Changeling quietly. “I am not blind to the fact they must still be sore, that they are uncomfortable. I know your eye, as well, gives you some discomfort. And as we have discussed, these creations are not meant purely for your own mobility. These tools have helped you regain your sight and your ability to walk, to run, to be autonomous, but at the same time... they are only tools. They are neither good nor evil, and because of that, they will not only be used for great good, but I am aware that in the future, they may be used for great evil, as well.”

“I don't want to hurt anyone.” Moonbeam murmured in a low voice, and Octavia smiled faintly.

“I believe you, Moonbeam. I have never once thought of you as an enemy of Equestria.” Octavia answered, before she shook her head and continued quietly: “When these augmentations become public, however, ponies will want to know how they work. They will decipher them, take my designs apart. And then they will rebuild them. They could usher in a new age of warfare, just as the smokeless guns did.”

There was silence for a few moments, before Vinyl asked finally: “If you don't want that to happen, then why not just... never go public with these designs?”

Octavia shrugged, then she answered with a faint smile: “What is the cost of that, Scratch? That is the demon of being a creator, and why it is not my special talent. I want to help ponies. And I know that most of them will go towards giving the paralyzed, the injured, the wounded in combat and here at home better lives. Do you know how painful and unwieldy our current prosthetic limbs are? And on top of that, they all have short lifespans. But the Type I and Type II limbs will outclass them and could last a pony's entire lifetime.”

She fell silent, and then she shook her head slowly before she murmured: “I want to see that happen. Perhaps I'm greedy. Perhaps I want to believe that just this once, my good intentions won't lead down the path to Hell. But there's also a cold, cynical, cruel part of me, Scratch, that says no matter what we do, it doesn't matter, anyway: sooner or later, one of the other Luciferin will either copy my designs or create their own, and it won't matter anyway.”

“That's pretty dark, Tavi.” Vinyl Scratch said quietly, and Octavia shrugged as Moonbeam slowly turned her mechanical limb back and forth, and then she shuddered a bit as her eyes lingered on some of the scratches across the steel prosthetic: how many times had she tripped and crushed wood, brick, stone beneath one of these hooves by mistake?

There was silence for a few moments, and then Octavia cleared her throat before she said finally: “Cutie marks represent not just our talents, but the way we can best give to the world around us. Whether for personal or impersonal reasons, my skills in science have never led to as many benefits for ponykind as I would dearly like to believe.”

“Come on, Tavi. Stop that. Cheer up, will you? Or at least play a sad song for us.” Vinyl said quietly, and Octavia smiled briefly before she shrugged, then leaned into her cello as she began to play.

Moonbeam listened: she watched the way that Octavia moved with the rhythm, and trembled at the mourning rumble of the bass instrument. The sadness threatened to swallow her up as the music reverberated through the pit of her stomach: how could so much emotion be trapped in those hollow notes?

She closed her eyes and rubbed at her face silently, then snuck a look at Vinyl: the unicorn's eyes were half-closed, but she wasn't really watching anything, her mouth moving in a strange, silent song to Octavia's playing, her sunglasses askew on her features. Her hooves kept squeezing down into the couch, and she trembled a little: not just with grief, but with repression, as she struggled not to blurt her secrets to the air, or leap towards her friend to try and embrace her and comfort her...

Was that love that Moonbeam felt? She thought so. But was it love or was it love? It could be hard to tell sometimes with ponies, and Vinyl was hard for her to read and understand. Harder than Octavia: Octavia wasn't subtle about her emotions, after all. The gray mare covered it all up, but suffocated noises were still all the same: you just had to listen harder for the sounds. Vinyl, however, covered her emotions up with grins and deflections and laughter: it was much harder to break through the emotional noise that the unicorn almost made herself believe than it was through Octavia's facade of stone.

But at least for the moment, Octavia's playing scraped away that noise and left Vinyl bare, and Moonbeam smiled a bit as she studied the unicorn, feeling... yes, love. That was love she felt. Did Octavia know, she wondered? But ponies always seemed blind to each other's feelings...

Moonbeam blushed a bit and turned her eyes away from Vinyl, studying Octavia. The earth pony was beautiful, she thought, especially when she let herself relax, when she allowed herself to just be instead of concentrating on being. She didn't know how else to describe it apart from that, any more than she understood that strange feeling that the music Octavia was playing was coming from somewhere deeper than just skill and repetition, making the chords sound so much fuller, adding dissonance to the harmony that exacerbated and exaggerated emotion, instead of ruining it.

Moonbeam felt love, and she wondered if it was Vinyl's love, or if it was her own: could a Changeling love? Or was that just more proof she wasn't really a Changeling anymore?

The mare lowered her head, rubbing at her face silently with one hoof: what did it matter what she felt, anyway? Who could ever love her? She was different. She had always been different. Ever since she had been a filly, she...

Moonbeam frowned, hen rose her head slightly, feeling a strange, curious spark run through her mind as she realized those emotions weren't entirely her own. She recognized that weight in her chest, but it wasn't coming from her.

She looked at Octavia, and felt the thrumming bass in her stomach and the beat in her heart. She felt the way the rhythm broke now and then, into something she couldn't understand. Moonbeam tried to listen closer, and whatever that hidden rhythm was, it was lost in the noise and the melody; but when she drew back, the story in the sound became clearer, the Changeling licking her lips as she felt the thrum through her chest again, as she unconscious flexed her steel legs in time with the beat.

But why did Octavia feel that way? How could she be so smart, so aware of everything, and yet so blind to the pony in front of her, or that she had a place here? Why was it that instead of seeing all the good she was doing, she came back around to the bad?

Had she been hurt? What could have hurt her so badly? How deep were those wounds, those scars in her soul?

Moonbeam closed her eyes and rubbed silently at her face, and then she bit her lip as the music quavered and her heart shook with it, before she looked up and blurted: “I love you!”

Octavia blinked as she twanged to a halt, and Vinyl blinked dumbly as she snapped out of her daze, and Moonbeam flushed deeply before she gave an awkward smile, rubbing silently at one metal leg. She felt like bolting or running away, but forced herself not to, looking up as she said in a voice that shook only a little: “I just mean... you're my friend, and I really care about you, and... I don't think I'm just an experiment. I know you care. I know you're... you're not a bad pony, Octavia. It means a lot to me that you let me stay here and I... you mean a lot to me, too, and all your kindness and... even if you think or say it's all selfish, I don't think it is. I don't think it even matters whether it is or not, because... you are helping me. You're doing things for me I never really deserved. That no one else would.”

She fell quiet, looking down and shifting a little, before she added as she shyly glanced over at Vinyl: “Other ponies care about you too. You don't... have to shut us out.”

Vinyl looked lamely away before she covered up her emotions with that grin, pushing her sunglasses hurriedly up over her eyes even as a faint blush suffused her cheeks, mumbling something incoherent. Octavia cocked her head slightly for a moment, but then she only sighed before she said slowly: “Moonbeam, I understand that you mean well, but... I don't think things are ever so simple as that. Meaning well is good, but what matters are your ends, as much as your means; if my desire to do good only brings harm unto the world, then what does it matter that I 'cared?'”

Moonbeam lowered her head slightly, feeling the mix of emotions coming from Octavia, who for once seemed less guarded, less coldly-logical. No, there was hesitation in her voice: in all the time the Changeling had known her, she'd never heard Octavia hesitate.

Vinyl picked up on it too, giving a bit of a laugh before she said gently: “Hey, it's not like you to be so dramatic, Tavi. You know that Moonbeam's right, though. You've done a lot for her. You did a lot for me, too. It's not like anypony else would have wanted to live with me or helped me the way you have. Can you... just stop worrying about how things are going to end up for once and maybe, just... enjoy the music?”

Octavia was silent for a few moments, and then she hugged her cello almost protectively as her eyes roved away from the two, before she said in her quiet but firm way: “Perhaps we should... move on to another subject.”

Vinyl looked a little disappointed as Moonbeam shifted awkwardly, then she blinked and looked up as Octavia asked her: “Will you be coming to the concert tomorrow?”

Moonbeam nodded hesitantly, and Octavia looked at her for a moment before she asked: “Do you have any favorite songs? I know that you like to listen to the music. I'll play one for you.”

Moonbeam blushed deeply, bowing her head a little before she said hesitantly: “The lullaby. I really liked that lullaby you played one night.”

Octavia cocked her head in surprise at this, but then she shrugged after a moment before she gave a small smile, silently trailing her hoof along the strings of her cello before she said softly: “Luna's Lullaby has always been one of my favorite themes. I... suppose I've always understood how it feels, when you have something beautiful you want to share with the world, but... no one wants to understand it.”

“There's that drama again. And hey, aren't you going to play a song for me, too, Tavi?” Vinyl asked with a small smile and a shrug, and Octavia chuckled a little, tilting her head as she gave a brief smile in return.

“I'll play you the same song I always play you, Scratch. It's not like you ever ask for anything different, after all.” Octavia answered, and Vinyl laughed as Moonbeam shifted a little, looking between the two with a funny sort of feeling she couldn't entirely comprehend.

So many emotions. She didn't think ponies could feel them the same way that Changelings did, but how could they be so blind to each other at the same time? It wasn't like they weren't expressive, like even without her Changeling magic, she couldn't see their smiles, their body language. Why were ponies so blind to each other?

Moonbeam fidgeted on the spot, biting her lip as she drew her eyes between Octavia and Vinyl Scratch: she wondered what it was like, to love someone, to be loved back. Part of her wanted to experience that so badly that she was drawn, for a bare moment, back to those old Changeling ways: to become the image of what a pony loved, so she could taste that emotion, feed on it. But she almost violently rejected that thought: it wasn't just that she wasn't able to mimic anymore with these prosthetic limbs, it was that she didn't want to hurt her friends.

Even if, at the same time, she felt a little... jealous, she thought, of the two mares, and what she imagined they could have together. After all, she cared about Octavia, too. Octavia had helped her find herself, had helped her shape this new person she was supposed to be. And when ponies loved, they loved with all their hearts: she was afraid that if Octavia and Vinyl understood there could be more than just friendship between them, she would lose the little time and affection she got to spend with her... friend? Am I allowed to call her that? To think of her as my friend?

Moonbeam didn't know, but she dearly wanted to.

And what would friends do for each other? If she were a pony, what would she want?

The best for her friends, she imagined.

Moonbeam hesitated for a moment longer, and then she asked: “Vinyl, um... you must do some kind of music of your own, right? Maybe Octavia could play something you wrote.”

Octavia cocked her head as Vinyl gave an awkward laugh, waving a hoof lamely as she said hurriedly: “No, no, uh, hey, that's a cool idea and all-”

“Well, if it is a 'cool idea,' Vinyl, I don't see any reason why I couldn't do so. I'm sure it wouldn't take me very long to master one of your... 'sick beats,' as you refer to them as.”

“I thought you didn't like playing, you know, non-orchestral stuff on stage, though.” Vinyl said, looking overtop her sunglasses with surprise.

Octavia shrugged a bit, and then she gave a brief smile before she said finally: “I suppose I can always make an exception this one time. Maybe I'll even end with a bit of jazz for once. Every now and then it's good to step out of your comfort zone, Scratch, and show a bit of your range. You... well, you and Moonbeam both taught me that.”

Vinyl smiled, and Octavia couldn't help but smile back. And as she looked between them, Moonbeam blushed and lowered her head a little, feeling the emotions flowing from both ponies, and both wishing she could help them realize how much they cared for one-another, and that she could truly experience what love was like for herself.