Gothic

by Wanderer D

Chapter 3: Preparations

o.0.o Gothic o.0.o

[ACT 1]

Chapter 3: Preparations

She galloped wildly through the valley, kicking up chunks of snow-covered dirt in her wake, leaving a clear trail through the vast fields trying to escape whatever was chasing her.

The absence of anything catching her made her finally pause. She slowed to a stop, breathing heavily and looking around nervously, trying to detect her pursuer in the darkness of the night. She skittered in place, scarf fluttering with her sudden movements as snow drifted down from the sky all around her.

The wind picked up, her ears perking as it carried the sound of wolves howling in the distance. Were they her pursuers? Or were they simply howling at the moon?

She looked up up, perhaps the hope that the familiar sight of the moon would provide her with some peace. Her eyes widened and she gasped in horror, scrambling back in a panic until she fell on her haunches, and stared wildly at what hovered far above her in the night sky.

That was not the moon. It was a gigantic eye that stared back, alien and full of fury, with an intensity that made her want to crawl into the smallest crack she could find.

It focused completely on her. It looked... hungry.

The giant pupil widened and a voice, sounding like it was made of several, filled the air around her.

Octavia, despite her fear, tried to hear what it said... A phrase kept repeating, something that nagged at her recent memory, mingled in the agonizing screams of many creatures, but she couldn't understand it. And then, finally... it became clear.

Octavia sat up in bed, panting and staring at the dark room in confusion. At first, she took comfort in the silence and warmth of her quaint surroundings, but soon her face scrunched into a frown.

"Why are these dreams so insistent?" she muttered to herself, rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in her pillow. She remained that way for a few seconds before lifting her head. "Is that what Trixie was talking about?" she muttered, recalling the mare's words the night before. "But how can my dreams be warnings if I can’t even see or remember what they’re warning me about?"

She shook her head, making her mind mind up to push aside any silly superstitious notions and groggily pushed herself up, hooves sinking into the soft mattress. She felt a slight chill run down her spine as she stretched, before clambering out of bed and to the bathroom.

It was still dark out—not a big surprise, given that it was winter—but still, she was up earlier than most ponies. She clicked on the small magical lantern hanging from the bathroom ceiling, casting a soft, yellow light that chased away the darkness and accentuated the edges of the room with shadows.

She was used to it. Years of being up and about a couple of hours before breakfast had formed a habit that was hard to break out of, even with beds as comfortable as the ones in the Pasture Shelter.

She had been given a small room, reminiscent of the ones she’d stayed in during her visit to Trottingham a few years past. Small, but comfortable. The bathroom was a modest affair as well, containing only a bathtub with a shower head, a simple faucet with a silver mirror stood against the wall to the right of the entrance, and opposite it was a towel rack with two white, fluffy towels—hanging invitingly in all their softness—for her perusal.

She turned the water on, and let it warm up before pulling the chain for the shower. As soon as it felt comfortable, she stepped in, letting the water run down her mane and face, enjoying the sensation the light pressure on her scalp created. She felt her fur matting against her skin as the water made its way down her body, pooling at her hooves before spiraling away into the drain.

She rose into her upright playing stance and squeezed a bit’s worth of shampoo into her mane. It was a good thing the showerhead was tall as her daily shower ritual incorporated this unique stance, allowing her to rinse her mane with both her hooves.

It had been a challenge to find an apartment in Canterlot that had a shower tall enough, so she was glad that had not been an issue here.

As she cleaned her mane and coat, her thoughts turned back to her meeting with Trixie… and Vinyl Scratch.

Trixie’s knowledge of her participation in the Magna Anima Nocte had shaken her. The unicorn’s warnings might have been a simple attempt to scare her off—as Vinyl had suggested—but there was a certain quality to Trixie’s eyes when she had spoken. There was a solemnity that was at odds with the overbearing, self-aggrandizing mare Vinyl Scratch had described.

And that simply brought up another issue.

Vinyl Scratch was there to compete against Octavia in the Magna Anima Nocte. It occurred to her that she had never questioned who she would be measured against, or on what level. At first, her idea of the event had been of a gathering of the great living talent of their era: musicians that had mastered their musical instruments to such extent that they were considered without peer. She had just expected it to be… just classical musicians.

Octavia snorted. With music having changed so much in the last thousand years, it was not surprising that the Magna Anima Nocte would include other forms of it, electro, or whatever it was that Vinyl played, being one of them.

Still keeping her balance, she let her forelegs drop to her sides, and closed her eyes, letting the water rinse the shampoo away.

Who else would be there? She had known it was not going to be an easy competition, but now she wasn’t competing solely against musicians, but against different genres. She wasn’t representing just herself, she was representing her whole school of music.

She dropped to all fours and opened her eyes. There was no option but to win.

Octavia had sat down at the deli across from the inn. It sported a simple design, rustic and quirky to match the general design of Ponyville. While not as obvious as Sugarcube Corner, the deli’s tree-like design was certainly its own thing, giving a feeling to those that walked in that they were in the outskirts of a forest.

The interior was certainly reminiscent of being inside a giant tree, with perennial green leaves decorating the thick, trunk-like columns and the ceiling. There were windows facing the main street, and the deli only possessed a few tables for customers to sit and eat despite a consistent line of ponies coming in to purchase a quick, on-the-go breakfast.

Wearing a pair of fluffy white earmuffs purchased from the inn’s little gift shop to match Rarity’s white scarf, Octavia had taken a table right beside the window, and sipped her coffee pensively as she watched Ponyville wake up.

Such an idyllic little town, right in the shadow of Canterlot, where uppity mares and stallions would do more than frown at such kind ponies as the dwellers of Ponyville.

Any of these nice ponies would be chewed out, humiliated and degraded by the so-called nobility. Infamous social-climbers such as Jet Set would indubitably enjoy demonstrating how condescending they could be to any pony that didn’t have a higher status, or better connections, than them.

Sometimes she really had to wonder if she was in the right place living in Canterlot. Even those that could be considered ‘friends’ were little more than formal acquaintances. The stress and competition of being part of the elite musicians in Canterlot was always a deterrent when it came to opening up. One could perhaps let another pony know what district you resided in, or what expensive restaurants you preferred. But Celestia watch over you should you divulge your opinions of conductors or the various noble houses lest you find your words spread with malice and your support falling out from beneath you.

“My, but aren’t you frowny today, dear?” a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “We should erase that from your face, darling, you’re going to be a star, after all! And you wouldn’t want that frown to be permanent.”

Octavia blinked and looked up at Rarity, levitating a coffee of her own and a plate with several pastries.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Rarity asked, motioning to the empty chair across from Octavia.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, no! Please, do!” Octavia said quickly, smiling and motioning at the seat with her hoof. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you; I was lost in thought.”

“I don’t blame you, dear!” Rarity chuckled. “You’ll be heading out tonight, correct? I can only imagine how jittery you’re feeling!” She took a sip of her coffee.

Octavia’s smile didn’t fade. “I’m not as jittery as I should probably be, Rarity,” Octavia said. “I am wondering about my competition… Did you know that Vinyl Scratch was also invited to compete?”

“Was she now?” Rarity’s eyebrows shot up, and putting down her coffee, she leaned forward. “I wasn’t aware of that. I was under the impression it was to be a competition for classical musicians…” she frowned. "Although that might explain the suddenness of another order I had received a few days ago."

Octavia let out the breath that she had been holding in unconsciously. It was something out of her experiences in Canterlot. Some… friend would hold onto an important bit of information and keep it from another in order to gain leverage. Rarity could be lying, but the honesty in the other pony’s eyes was enough for Octavia to believe her. Vinyl Scratch visited Ponyville often enough anyway that Rarity would have had no reason to think she was there for anything other than to visit Pinkie Pie.

“In any case, I was hoping you would have some time to try—” Rarity stopped suddenly, staring at the street as her eyes widened, then narrowed in anger. “What is that scoundrel doing in Ponyville?!”

Octavia stared for a second before following Rarity’s line of sight to a series of chariots that had just pulled down the street, gathering at the point where she herself would be entering her own chariot that night.

A large, white unicorn stepped daintily from the middle one, glancing around with barely-concealed contempt.

“Prince Blueblood?” Octavia asked aloud, completely baffled. Then her eyes widened as other ponies, of shorter stature wearing black jackets with spikes stepped out of the other carriages—which were clearly carrying as well several musical instruments—one of them in particular drawing her attention. “Wait, is that Guitar Slash?” she stammered. “And the rest of Trots and Roses?”

Rarity gave her a curious look. “I did not expect you to know such a band, Octavia.”

Octavia shook her head. “They’re difficult to miss. Even if I’ve never heard any of their songs, it’s hard to not noticice a that ridiculous hat.”

Rarity snickered. “True enough.” Her eyes hardened again as she looked out the window, watching Blueblood order the others around. “What is he doing here?” She sniffed disdainfully. “I am going to find out, and he’d better have a good reason, or I will personally send his sorry flank back to Canterlot!”

Octavia was about to ask Rarity what her problem with Blueblood was, but then again, Blueblood had made plenty of enemies and antagonized just about every pony he had ever met, so Rarity having an issue with him was nothing extraordinary.

Shoving the last pastry into her mouth, chewing it, and pushing it down with the remnants of her coffee—fresh-brewed courage perhaps—Rarity cleaned her mouth and stood up. “I’m sorry darling, but I can’t let his presence here pass.”

Octavia shook her head and stood up as well, downing her own mug of coffee. “It’s okay, I’m curious myself about what exactly Trots and Roses are doing here. I hate to admit, but they might well be my competition.”

Rarity grimaced at the idea, but nodded firmly as both mares stepped out into the snow.

They didn’t have far to walk before they could hear Blueblood.

“You! With the hat and the curly mane! Stop talking and smoking and make sure—” Blueblood cut off, and for the first time in Octavia’s memory, seemed to cringe, all as a result of Rarity. “You! What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same myself!” Rarity retorted. “To think that a pretentious, barbaric, self-absorbed miscreant masquerading as an excuse for a noble such as yourself would dare set hoof in Ponyville, my home, is an act against nature itself! Why are you polluting this fair town with your presence, your highness?”

Blueblood snorted in contempt.

"Sorry, babe," Guitar Slash called out, walking next to them. "We don't give interviews."

"I'm not here for—!" Rarity stopped when Octavia placed a hoof on her shoulder.

"Rarity, please, you're making a scene," Octavia whispered. "And his highness has just as much right to be here as you do. Even if none of us like the idea."

Rarity paused and glanced around, noticing that several ponies were staring at her, aghast. "Well!" She gave Blueblood a smoldering glare before trotting back down the street with a huff.

Octavia hovered there, curiosity warring over Rarity's reaction and Blueblood's presence. Finally, she turned to Blueblood—the prince eying her curiously—and bowed slightly. "I'm very sorry, your highness. I was unaware of any bad blood between both of you."

Blueblood snorted. "Philarmonica, wasn't it?"

Octavia's eyes widened, but she nodded.

"It's of no consequence to me what a plebeian thinks, but an up-and-coming mare as yourself should not keep such company." He paused and sniffed. "Are you here for any particular reason? I did not take you for a... town dweller." He sounded as if he were speaking of carrion.

"I'm here due to an invitation..." Octavia ventured, eyes falling on Trots and Roses as they double-checked equipment and such.

Blueblood nodded. "Ah, the Magna Anima Nocte." He smirked at her surprise. "Truly, that such an event would occur again in our lifetimes!" He chuckled. "As you can probably guess, I am here for the same reason. As lead singer for the band ‘Blues and Roses,’ I was invited to participate in the contest as well."

"Blues and Roses?" Octavia blinked. "What happened to Axe the Rose?"

Blueblood snorted in contempt. "That screechy-voiced minotaur? Fired and forcibly deported. He always wanted a solo career anyway. And as you can see, my dulcet voice will carry Blues and Roses to victory!"

Octavia's mind barely had the time to process, when another, more famous voice interrupted her thoughts.

"That's a nice dream, darling! But completely naive if either of you truly expect to win the Magna Anima Nocte!"

Blueblood, Octavia and the surviving members of Trots and Roses all stopped what they were doing to stare at the four bodyguards surrounding Sapphire Shores and her entourage of dancers and backup singers behind her as they stepped out of the stretch chariots that had brought them. "Blueblood, honey, you don't stand a chance!"

Blueblood glared at the pop star. "Clearly they must be desperate for quantity over quality if they invited somepony such as you to compete."

Sapphire Shores chuckled. "At least I am a singer, blue boy. I'm not riding on my band to make up for the fact that I have no musical talent whatsoever."

Octavia expected Blueblood to get angry, but the stallion merely shrugged with indifference. "Say what you want, Shores, in the end what does it matter as long as I win?"

Sapphire Shores frowned. "Darling, this is a contest for musicians playing music. I can see why Trots and Roses is here, but you replacing Axe just so you can participat—"

"I'll have you know I am an excellent singer, Shores," Blueblood interrupted. "And the band is called Blues and Roses now."

"Well, all I see is somepony with a title and money taking advantage of both to—"

"Perhaps we shouldn't make a scene?" Octavia interrupted, trying to defuse the situation.

The pair looked at her and snorted, turning away from each other. Their attention, however was quickly drawn to other chariots pulling in and the fact that several ponies were gathering in a crowd to gape at Sapphire Shores, Octavia, Blueblood and Blues and Roses.

"Guards!" Blueblood snapped. "Clear a section of the street and only allow participants of the Magna Anima Nocte access!"

"Yes, sir!" several guards called out, forming a perimeter around all of them and making sure that the ponyvillians were kept back from the performers.

It was soon after that another, more colorful wagon waded through the gathering crowd, who stood aside and either glared or looked in confusion as the mare pulling it stepped past the barricade of guards after a brief conversation with one, and parked, separate from the other participants.

Octavia blinked in confusion at Trixie, who, after making sure her bandwagon was securely parked, ignored everypony and went inside of it. "What's Trixie doing here?"

"A common gypsy." Blueblood hissed. "This competition really is taking all sorts."

Octavia winced at the venom in Blueblood's voice and glanced at Sapphire Shores, who favored her with a smile.

"A gypsy she might be," Sapphire Shores snorted, rolling her eyes at Blueblood's attitude. "But they have a long history of musical talent. Unlike a certain entitled somepony I could mention."

"As well as being dirty, conniving thieves!" Blueblood retorted. "If you will excuse me, I shall go ensure my possessions are kept far from that mare's presence." Blueblood growled, hurrying back to his chariot.

Once they were both alone, Sapphire Shores turned to look at Octavia. "I apologize for my behaviour earlier, honey. I just hate to see what Blueblood is doing." She cleared her throat. "I'm Sapphire Shores, as you probably know, darling." She extended a hoof.

Octavia shook it, well aware that this was an occasion she had never expected would happen. "Octavia Philharmonica," she said. "I never expected to meet you in person, Miss Shores, with our musical interests being so… divergent."

Sapphire Shores laughed. "Oh, that's not true, darling! Music is music, after all, and the beauty of it transcends genres. I'm sure we would have met at some point or another!"

Octavia chuckled. “That’s very true, Miss Shores.”

It was at that point that one of Sapphire Shore’s dancers came up to them. “Miss Shores, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to discuss those details you wanted, and if we’re getting the materials here in Ponyville…”

“Thank you, darling, I’ll be right with you,” Sapphire Shores replied, nodding at the mare. She then turned to face Octavia. “Well, I’m afraid I have to go for now. I’m sure I’ll see you later!”

“See you soon, Miss Shores,” Octavia said with a smile. She watched the pair walk away, before turning and heading out of the unofficial meeting place.

She had to catch up to Rarity.

The walk back to the Carousel Boutique was uneventful once she had shouldered her way past the gawking ponies. She passed a couple of additional chariots heading towards Blueblood’s impromptu meeting point, but paid them no mind, knowing that she’d see who her competition was soon enough.

The sun dared poke through the gray clouds above more than once, shining rays of warmth onto the road and lighting up some of the houses around. It was not as cold as the day before had been, but she was still grateful for her scarf and earmuffs as she made her way through the snowy streets.

The advantage of such a small town, she realized, was just how walkable everything was. It was easy to remember where each building she had visiting was, and knowing that it would take her no more than a few minutes to reach them made it much less of a chore than the several minutes or even hours of planning it could take in Canterlot to make an appointment in time.

Soon enough, she stood in front of the Carousel Boutique, knocking a couple of times before pushing the door open.

“Rarity?” she called, wiping her hooves and stepping in. “Are you here?”

“Oh, Octavia!” Rarity exclaimed, looking out towards her from within the boutique’s changing rooms. “I’m glad you’re here! Come in! I have much to show you!”

Octavia nodded and stepped up to the designer, who was pushing a large set of dresses covered by a large cloth out of the way. “I’m sorry I didn’t follow you immediately earlier today, I—”

Rarity waved a hoof. “Don’t apologize dear, it was all my fault. Just seeing that brute in Ponyville. Why, it just made my blood boil!” Rarity snorted. “But that is not an excuse to display such boorish behavior. If anyone must apologize, it will be me.”

Octavia smiled and shook her head.

“Regardless,” Rarity said, walking up to Octavia and herding her into the changing booth, “I have something for you right here.”

“Um… which one’s mine?” Octavia asked.

“All three.”

“What?!” Octavia whirled around, barely believing what she had heard. “There must have been some mistake! I can’t possibly—”

“Oh, do calm down, dear.” Rarity waved her hoof, eyes sparkling. “They’re for you, future winner of the Magna Anima Nocte!” She giggled. “I couldn’t help but be inspired by your mane and coat! And those eyes! No, It was an absolute delight making these! Now, try them on!”

“But…” Octavia trailed off, finding herself at a loss for words. This sort of generosity was something she had never before encountered in her life.

“The dark violet with the single shoulder strap is your casual wear for the event, of course,” Rarity elaborated, levitating the dress for Octavia. “It should fit nicely on you, not too tight, and it accentuates your eyes nicely.”

“O-of course…”

Octavia’s thoughts were a jumble as she tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror as Rarity fussed about with a pair of needles and a measuring tape. She had some similar dresses at home, of course, but they were store-bought, nice but not perfect fits. As she watched Rarity press fabric together, loosen it, mark it and secure it, she understood the complete difference in what she had bought before and the quality of the work she was wearing now. The fabric was lightweight, and it felt so nice against her coat… this was something she had wished many times before to be able to own.

A bit too soon for the earth pony’s taste, Rarity helped Octavia out of the violet dress, and was helping her into a stylish coat, with fluffy white material around the neck and at the base of each hoof as well as the bottom of the dress itself.

“And this one, of course is perfect for outside dining or a simple stroll!” Rarity said proudly. “It comes with a warm hat, of course, and it mixes perfectly with your scarf!”

Octavia stared at herself in the mirror. It was lovely. “Rarity, I have no words…This kind of generosity… I can’t possibly—”

Rarity snorted. “You can and you will. And now… the pièce de résistance!” She carefully removed the winter coat and put it to the side as she levitated the last clothing item.

Octavia stared.

It was a black, single-piece form-fit dress with a low back tied with black lace and a cut on the left flank to show a bit of her legs. The material shimmered, as if it was made of tiny black diamonds, and yet it felt smooth as silk and weightless as it rested against Octavia’s coat as if it had been part of her for the longest time.

Octavia looked at the gray mare in the tasteful dress for a full twenty seconds before it dawned on her it was herself in the mirror. Never had she witnessed, much less worn, something like this.

It was beyond her expectations. It was beyond her wildest dreams. The contrast against her fur… the shimmering mirroring of her mane, how it accentuated her eyes… this was the most amazing dress she had ever seen.

“Oh, my! Darling!” A familiar voice exclaimed.

Still dazed, Octavia turned around, facing the entrance of the rooms to see Sapphire Shores and a couple of her entourage smiling at her.

“Octavia!” Sapphire Shores exclaimed once more. “That dress is absolutely perfect on you!”

“M-miss Shores!” Octavia gasped.

“Oh, call me Sapphire!” Sapphire Shores said smiling, walking up to Rarity and Octavia all while admiring the dress. “And you’re going to play dressed in that! You’ll be taking the breath away of anypony that sees you in it!”

“T-thank you!” Octavia stammered, slowly turning to look at herself in the mirror. “I can’t even believe it. It’s—”

“Amazing? Beautiful? Absolutely stunning? Breathtaking? Beyond anything else you’ve ever seen?” Sapphire Shores teased. “That’s because Rarity made it for you, darling!”

Now it was Rarity’s turn to blush. “Oh, Sapphire, please don’t say those things.”

Sapphire Shores laughed, bumping amiably against Rarity. “Darling, I will always speak my mind! And what I said is true! You never fail to make amazing designs for me, and never shall you fail to do the same for any client!”

“Or friend,” Rarity added, smiling. “Like both of you.”

“Oh, stop, darling now you’re making me blush!”

Rarity chuckled and looked at Sapphire Shore’s entourage, motioning to the rack of dresses she had moved earlier. “You know the drill, girls, please use the sample room to try your dresses.”

A chorus of: “Yes Miss Rarity!” was the response, and the giggling mares all paraded past them, pulling the dresses behind them, and giving Octavia appreciative looks.

Octavia took a deep breath. “Rarity, I can’t even express how happy I am. Thank you so much! I don’t know what else to say!” And, surprising even herself, she walked forward and enveloped Rarity in a hug.

Rarity’s smile did not fade at all as she returned the hug. “I’m just glad the dresses were to your liking, Octavia.”

Swallowing, Octavia nodded. “They’re perfect.”

Rarity shook her head. “Almost! I just need to tweak a few things on the casual wear. It will be ready for you before you leave tonight, I promise!”

Octavia smiled and tried to fight the feeling of her eyes watering with gratitude. “I have no doubt.”

“Now, if you don’t mind excusing me, dear,” Rarity said, smile dropping a bit as she levitated the dress off of Octavia. “I’m afraid I’ll have my hooves full for the next hour or so, fixing the few details on the girl’s dresses.”

Sapphire Shores laughed. “I should have warned you, Coffee Bean gained a little weight last week, so her measurements might be a bit off.”

Rarity sighed. “Again?”

Sapphire Shores just shrugged.

“Well then,” Octavia said, smiling at both. “I believe I shall depart for now, so that you can concentrate on the current crisis.”

“Thank you, Octavia,” Rarity said. “I’ll see you soon!”

“See you tonight, darling!” Sapphire Shores added, waving her hoof amiably as Octavia wrapped her scarf around her neck and put on her ear muffs before stepping out of the store.

Octavia closed the door behind her and half stumbled away a few steps before she let out a shuddering breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She looked over her shoulder at Carousel Boutique in wonder.

How would she ever be able to repay Rarity back?

Comments

[RoboRed]

Wow...Blueblood. Just...wow...

It was a black, single-piece form-fit dress with a low back tied with black lace and a cut on the left flank to show a bit of her legs. The material shimmered, as if it was made of tiny black diamonds, and yet it felt smooth as silk and weightless as it rested against Octavia’s coat as if it had been part of her for the longest time.

Octavia looked at the gray mare in the tasteful dress for a full twenty seconds before it dawned on her it was herself in the mirror. Never had she witnessed, much less worn, something like this.

It was beyond her expectations. It was beyond her wildest dreams. The contrast against her fur… the shimmering mirroring of her mane, how it accentuated her eyes… this was the most amazing dress she had ever seen.

Octavia plus dresses is always a good thing. Always.
img1.derpicdn.net/img/view/2012/11/1/138761__safe_twilight+sparkle_rainbow+dash_pinkie+pie_applejack_sweetie+belle_apple+bloom_trixie_lyra_big+macintosh.png

the other carriages—which were clearly carrying as well several musical instrument

You missed an "s" there.

[Chaodiurn]

In the heavy mood of Auschwitz's 70th liberation-anniversary this read perhaps felt a bit darker than it actually is. Well, until Slash showed up anyway. I'll gladly follow this one.

[Manaphy]

Interesting. I liked the prose used here and the use of the descriptions, as it allowed me to clearly imagine the story in my mind as it played out. The dream at the beginning was also intriguing, as it does have an ominous feel to it. Also, the character interaction was well-done, and Blueblood being his usual self allowed for some well-written, natural conflict to arise. Excellent work as usual.

[Charzoid]

Good chapter
Even though he was being rude back a lot of ponies seem to be counting him out before blueblood even shows he's got skills.
Did you know the voice for prince blueblood is also the voice for flash sentry? Random fact this made me think of.
For some reason I've often imagined him playing a Queen's song with his voice but I can see guns and roses parody to. Not sure if you'll actually have made up songs presented or just describe the events of the performances in narrative but in case you are going to do the later could you do these:

You wouldn't have to do the whole song since its pretty long. Even if you've got your own idea planed I just wanted to throw out this idea.
The events of this party might change blueblood's attitude if there as odd as things might get at this mysterious party. Also the dress sounds beautiful for Octavia.

[Chalice Longshot]

would it be a fic by Wanderer D without referances Glad to see more of the competition :D

I am now eexpecting Iron will to pop up as the 4th member of trots and roses :P "axl the rose" being his musical alter ego. heh

I enjoyed Shappire i think you nail her pretty well. octi dress is only good dress good job i want moar.

[pahnazd]

Oh Blueblood, I hope you burn badly in your attempts.

So recurring bad nightmares. This will really be fun.

[dlszcdlsdlszldysz]

Not too fond the music note Treble Clef that you've used to split up the sections. It's too shiny and well... everything. It contrasts too much with the text.

A flatter coloured note that matches the text colour would work better I think.

I realise this is monumentally pedantic. The fic itself is excellent.