Spare Some Change?

by Nadir

A Quick Breakfast

Octavia’s house, beyond all else, was silent. While it was quite well decorated, not a sound permeated through the halls. An inherited house for a family of sixteen left to a single mare meant that little of the rooms actually saw use. The storied wealth of her family showed, and while some small part of her worried that Vinyl would steal something the other part… well, it didn’t care. What was another jewel when she had thousands?

Currently, the two had quite a bit of distance between them. Octavia cooked a breakfast as promised - eggs, pancakes, waffles, and all manners of fruit. It'd been quite a while since she’d actually bothered to make anything real. Most of the time, it would be something quick for herself after work right before she passed out in bed. A shameful waste of such a bright and open kitchen, all the well stocked food going to waste on her. How many times must she tell the servants to bring less?

Vinyl, on the other hoof, took her own sweet time. Naturally, Octavia hadn’t taken the girl to her own personal bathroom, but she had gotten her set up in one of the many guest ones. A warm shower, some soft towels, a new coat, everything that she’d promised. Besides, Octavia couldn’t blame her for taking longer than Octavia’s usual showers. Anything longer than a spare minute or so would be too much for the rising orchestral star and with how long it seemed that Vinyl had gone without a shower, she clearly needed it.

Unfortunately, it left Octavia to brood, to think. Why exactly had she done this? Sympathy, sure. Vinyl definitely could garner some sympathy. Those eyes of hers, that tiny frame, that broken horn bespoke of a mare that needed attention and her own care. Octavia couldn’t profess to give all of those. She couldn’t fix the constant fear, nor the broken horn, but the malnutrition? Maybe she could help with that a bit.

Or perhaps Octavia lied to herself. This wasn’t altruism, Octavia didn’t have that kind of certainty in her heart. Vinyl actually talked to her like a person. Vinyl didn’t know who she was. Octavia had long since grown tired of ponies knowing her name, thinking they knew her as a pony. She’d grown tired of it for way too long. Vinyl did none of that, she only saw her as the nice pony to give her something.

Or so Octavia hoped. The constant silence that plagued her for so long broke. If she listened especially intently, she could just very barely hear the sound of a shower running, the water flowing from the tap. Another pony in the house. It’d been so long since she’d had another pony in the house that didn’t exist simply to serve her. How long had that been? A year? Maybe two? The orchestra devoured her time like a hungry monster, leaving her none of her own. Her coworkers were bloodthirsty, cutthroat. But that was the business - one had to be in order to advice and move on. Octavia didn’t see it the same way, but one pony alone couldn’t enact an entire culture change.

In the meantime, however, she could focus on that shower sound. Not alone, for the first time in so long. It brought a smile to her muzzle, a real one, not the same one she plastered on for so long. The more she thought about it, the more pathetic it seemed. She was so overjoyed about a homeless pony using her shower. What a silly notion, one that a few years ago would seem alien.

The shower stopped, leaving Octavia among her silence again. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the prepared breakfast. She’d left it out as a spread, two place settings the only parts of the long, oaken table in use. Food covered the middle, whatever Vinyl and herself wanted to choose from.

Octavia didn’t have to wait long in her spot. The sound of hooves against hardwood rang out all the closer, growing ever near until they stopped. Octavia turned, catching sight of a rather uncomfortable looking Vinyl. Her mane, still wet, clung to her head and neck, the soft blue quite complementary to her eyes. One of Octavia’s fluffy, pink bathrobes covered the rest of her, though Octavia could see the different already - the little bit of fluff that showed on Vinyl’s chest was practically alabaster now, in sharp contrast to the ugly, muddled gray it’d been before.

The smaller mare tried to smile, a crooked, perpetually teasing thing that showed just a bit too many teeth. “Yo,” she started, voice cracking a bit from the word. “So, uh, you’ve got a nice shower. Really warm water and all,” she began.

Octavia couldn’t help but feel amusement well up in her chest. Any remaining doubts for her cause evaporated under those words. Vinyl was no smooth operator, no career criminal. Just a scared, homeless filly. That, Octavia could deal with.

She smiled a little wider and gestured towards the seat across from herself. “It’s a nice shower. My parents were quite big on refurbishment before their passing. Please, take a seat and help yourself,” she offered.

As if Vinyl had been wound like a bow ready to launch. The second Octavia said those words, Vinyl practically exploded around the edge of the table, scurrying towards the seat and pulling herself into it. Her magic, weak and sparking that it was, heaped great portions of essentially everything onto her plate. In sharp contrast, Octavia took a more methodical approach, getting little bit of her favorite things rather than everything. A small pancake, a few strawberries, so very little compared to the great heap.

Silverware clinked, but Vinyl wouldn’t let the silence reign for long. Even with a big bite of food smacking away in her jaws, she started to speak again. “So!” she began, swallowing hard. “What happened to your parents anyways? This their place?” she asked. She didn’t even give Octavia enough time to answer it before shoveling more another bite in her muzzle. Octavia would’ve sworn it was half a pancake in one bite.

A small napkin dabbed at Octavia’s muzzle. She didn’t truly have anything on there, but it was good manners, clean and refined. “They passed five years ago, unfortunately. Since then, the house has essentially been mine, as there are no other claimants to it. My family goes back for many generations,” she explained. A curious feeling passed through Octavia, a desire to know more. “And yours? You aren’t home. You aren’t living with them. What happened?”

Vinyl actually stopped eating. The fork that'd started to be magically raised up to her mouth stopped, lowering to rest back down instead. “We aren’t on good terms,” Vinyl answered. The light that had sparked in her eyes from the shower, the nice food, died. Puffing out in a single snap. “There really isn’t much to it. We had some disagreements, so I left. Just couldn’t stand being around them, I guess.” Vinyl finished, shrugging. She shoved the fork up, silencing herself.

Octavia expected that. Either dead or a gulf of hatred. Vinyl didn’t seem very forthcoming with the reason why, which Octavia could hardly blame her for. Estranged parents rather than dead ones were something at least.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Octavia soothed. She let the silence hold for a few seconds, the both of them enjoying their food. Octavia, despite the opulence and the business, actually could cook quite well. “So, dear, how old are you anyways?” she asked.

“Easy one,” Vinyl smacked, “Nineteen. How about you? You some old predator mare looking for a young nubile filly?” Vinyl asked, waggling her eyebrows.

That earned a giggle from Octavia. Even her laugh had been trained to be cultured, restrained, attractive rather than showing any pure joy. It was something that Octavia had an awareness of but couldn’t help.

“Twenty five,” she answered, cheeks slightly flushed. “And no. I am scarcely some predator,” she excused, waving a hoof in the air with dismissal. What a foolish thought. A cleaned up Vinyl certainly had her attractive qualities, but a homeless filly didn’t exactly have a lot to offer.

Clearly, the answer didn’t satisfy Vinyl. She raised an eyebrow instead, leaning a bit closer across the table, showing off those brilliant ruby eyes. “Oh really? Why did you want me to come over to your house then? Wear your clothes? Use your shower?” she pressed, all good questions, all questions that Octavia either couldn’t or wouldn’t answer.

The refined mare shuffled in her chair, moving back and forth to get comfortable. She straightened her little bowtie and breathed in a calming breath. “Because I was curious,” she finally answered. The truth, but not the whole truth. “You’re young and nearly any homeless pony moves around. Those that don’t find a place to stay within a few months are even more rare. Why, I’ve heard of ponies simply being taken in by strangers who could. But you haven’t yet, and you haven’t moved from your same corner or gotten a job. So why haven’t you done any of that? I even remember feeding you before. I’ve given you bits and food, even taken you to a diner and paid for what you wanted, though I didn’t have the time to stay and talk. Is there something else going on?” Octavia countered. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a counter. Still, Octavia couldn’t help but feel a little defensive. She supposed her attitude thus far had been strange.

Vinyl frowned. She frowned deep, like she had back on that cold street corner. “Long story, Octy- do you mind if I call you Octy?” Vinyl wouldn’t give her a chance to respond before pressing on, “basically, can’t get a job. Not many ponies really like to look at the shattered horn, you know. Got some other stuff going on, but it is what it is, right?” she asked, offering that half cocked smile again.

It didn’t reach those eyes of hers. It didn’t reach the rest of her face. That wasn’t everything. “What’s the other stuff? I understand living like that must be difficult. I can’t imagine actually choosing it,” Octavia pressed. She matched Vinyl’s look with one of her own. At this point, Vinyl almost felt like a puzzle that Octavia needed to figure out, some way to pick it apart. Something was desperately wrong here.

Vinyl rubbed at one of her shoulders unsteadily, glancing off to the right. “Hey, Octy, this has been great and all, but I really have to go,” the mare excused herself. She stood from the chair, working off the bath robe, tossing it onto the chair. “I’ve got… you know, stuff to do. Got a place to be,” Vinyl went on. Her tone was easy, relaxed, but such they were such obvious lies.

Octavia thought of anything to say to make her stay. Something about the food? No. Somehow, Vinyl had managed to finish damned near all of her plate. Octavia frowned, unable to help herself. She wanted to know more, but even more so, didn’t want to overstep her bounds.

“Oh, yes, of course, Miss Scratch,” she soothed. “Please, allow me to help you get your things-”

Vinyl cut her off. “Oh, thanks, but I got it, Octy. Don’t you worry, I’ve got everything together in the lobby. Gotta go, bye!” Vinyl yipped out. She disappeared behind the door before Octavia could say anything else.

Octavia could hear the retreating footsteps. She could hear Vinyl hurrying towards the exit. She closed her eyes and steepled her hooves together, resting them against her forehead. The steps got quieter and quieter, getting ever closer to the outside. She could hear the front door, a big, wooden thing, open, then close again.

Only then did she let out a long breath. Darned curiosity. Too far and too fast. The denial only made her mind hunger all the more. The little white filly would be the death of her at this rate. She simply had to know.

Comments

[Titan Commander Sebaste]

Hmm... What exactly happened that left Vinyl so shattered....?

[Vaguely Demented]

Must be pretty bad that it’s worth missing further food.

[The Fiction Fanatic]

I don't tend to look at stories in the new section, they tend to be... less than perfect, shall we say. This one was my exception, and I'm really glad it was.

You've got a good idea here, with potential, decently portrayed characters(sadly rare), and something of a mystery lingering around. Looking forward to seeing where this story will go!

[Nadir]

9081212
That's for y'all to find out ^^

9081497
Thanks for the feedback! I definitely think having a few 'prequel' chapters would be a good idea. I might get around to that *eventually.* I still gotta keep up with my other big fic right now unfortunately.

9081867
Hey thanks! The very first draft of this was actually written way way back in 2012. To be frank, it fucking sucked. I'm glad I got to do this version instead.

9081548
Not too too many people like to talk about their trauma, especially when you just meet people!