The Album

by Peregrine Caged

Octavia -- The Perfect Recipe

Written by: Peregrine Caged
Rated Everyone

Octavia carefully tested the gathered waters within her tub with the tip of her hoof. Finding them satisfactorily hot without being scalding, she turned the faucets off. Her bathroom had filled with a pleasant and steamy mist, fogging her mirrors and dampening her mane just a bit. She had been looking forward to this bath all day--and everything was absolutely perfect.

Well, she thought. Not quite everything. I still need one more thing.

Not wanting to release too much of the steamy paradise she had made, Octavia opened the bathroom door, went through, and closed it as quick as she could. The bathroom connected to both her bedroom and her combined kitchen-dining room; she had entered the kitchen.

As soon as she heard the door click behind her, Octavia heard the tell-tale whistle of the kettle boiling. Right on time. Perfect.

Hurrying over to the stove, she lifted the kettle off the heat--being especially careful not to burn herself--and poured the boiling liquid into a somewhat large mug. Immediately the refreshing scent of her favorite tea, Black Rose, wafted to her nostrils; she had prepared the leaves and two sugars earlier. Inhaling slowly and deeply, she could already feel her entire body begin to relax in expectation of the things to come.

Setting the kettle down, she picked up the mug and repeated her quick moving exercise with the bathroom door, not spilling a drop of delicious amber pleasure from her very full mug. Tonight was going along so perfectly and she was determined that it would continue to do so. It had to. Octavia needed the relief more than she could possibly explain.

She had only been playing for the richest ponies and biggest concert halls for a few weeks now, but it had stressed her to her limits. While loving the fame and adoration--not to mention the bits--that came with success, Octavia had to admit she didn’t realize it was going to be as exhausting as it was. Still, it was a small price to pay and she gladly paid it.

Provided she could continue to have nights such as tonight.

Carefully placing the mug on the edge of the tub, she got out all the things she would need: shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath (which she poured on in), and a towel for afterwards. Stirring the water to create some suds, she dried her hoof and took off her bowtie, setting it delicately on the counter. It had been a gift from her father, just before her very first performance. So she was always very keen on taking care of it.

Finally, all was prepared and she was beyond ready. Lifting a hoof, she took a step into the bath. As soon as her leg went under the perfectly heated water, she felt the waves of relaxation traveling up her entire body. A little quicker than was necessary, she hopped in and slowly sank below the sudsy water.

“Aaaaaah...” she let out a long, slow sigh. Her muscles lost their knots and her usual background headache vanished. This was paradise.

Picking up the mug, she blew lightly on the tea before taking a big sip. Swallowing the delicious drink, her body shivered as it mildly burned all the way down her throat. The heat from inside and the warmth on the outside created a perfect relaxing reaction--it was better than any massage in Octavia’s opinion.

Setting the mug back down, she lowered herself in the tub until the tip of her muzzle was above the surface, allowing her to breathe while being submerged. Simply lying there, her mind went blank as she let the stresses of the past few months melt away.

It had been one hay of a journey, one she had never really known what to expect from despite her desires. For as long as she could remember, she had practiced with her cello in hopes of breaking into the fine musical circles--to be known as one of the best of the best. And now she had done it. She was happy; she was fulfilled; life was good and would continue to be so for as long as she cared to continue it.

Her peaceful mental serenity was shattered by a very loud voice asking, So what now? She opened her eyes and thought, Where did that come from? Grumbling, she carefully exhaled and made a few bubbles in front of her face.

Where had it come from? She was happy, wasn’t she? She had everything she had ever wanted and dreamed for. What more was there to do?

This thought continued to eat at her mind, ruining the perfect relaxation she had been feeling. Rising, she grabbed her tea and took another big sip. It was still deliciously hot, but something about it... It didn’t produce the same effect it had just minutes before.

“Damn it, I will not let tonight be ruined!” she announced firmly to nopony.

Grabbing the shampoo, she squirted some into her mane and began to work it in. She started with slow, careful strokes, trying to find relaxation from the cleaning. But her mind was a jumble of doubt and worries. Her scrubbing sped up and grew harder and harder as she tried to focus on the bath itself and not her own inner turmoil.

What do I do now? Hah! Easy. I am a musician--one of the best. All I have to do is write new compositions. That will provide all the variety I could ever need.

But none of those rich snobs you play for want anything new, came the other voice. A risk like that could leave you a failure and shunned from all the concert halls in the city.

What was she to do? Shaking her head lightly so as not to scatter suds all over, she proceeded to rinse her hair. She wouldn’t worry about it. Not right now. It was a problem that could be dealt with when she wasn’t trying to relax.

She grabbed her mug and took another sip--then pouted when she found it was already nearly cold. What’s more, she found the pleasant mist in the room thinning as her bath cooled, too.

“Time to hurry this up and just go to bed...” she said, disappointed. It had all started so well--why was it ending so terribly?

She didn’t have to worry about a thing. She was a success and would continue to be so. Nothing could take that away from her.

But is true success just fame and bits? Are those the only ingredients for a perfect life?

No, they weren’t. She remembered when she had finally worked up the courage and will to leave home in order to chase her dreams. Her parents had both supported her, but Octavia had been so reluctant to go. Sure, they wrote to one another and they even visited occasionally but... Her apartment felt so empty, no matter how nice it was.

“Is that what’s really bothering me?” she idly asked herself. “Is that why I can’t revel in perfection? Because alone...I can never be complete?”

Octavia had never thought about it before--but she was lonely. How could she enjoy a night by herself, even setting up all these things she loved, when she was by herself every night? For something to be truly perfect, it had to be special.

Being alone was never special, not for Octavia Overture.

Finishing off her now cold tea, she quickly went through the motions for the rest of her bath. It was simply a routine at this point--her focus drawn inward and on this new discovery she had made about herself.

Once again, she heard the question, So what now?

She finished and began drying herself off slowly, listening to the water gurgle down the drain. Octavia left the bathroom in a bit of a mess, her thoughts still elsewhere.

As if she were in a daze, she wandered into the bedroom one step at a time to collapse upon her bed. The distant sounds of the night entered the outskirts of her consciousness--the noise of the city that had taken her so long to ignore in those first few weeks.

So she was lonely, was she? Well, there were ways to fix that. No goal she had set so far had proven too much of a challenge--why should this be any different? Octavia laughed at her own foolishness.

The trick with any recipe was nothing more complicated than gathering all the ingredients. In Octavia’s own opinion, she had collected the most difficult to find--what was left would be a cinch. After all, was she not famous? Rich? Beautiful? Any stallion with half a brain would die for her hoof. She’d finish her little ‘list’ within the week. Then her life would be completely perfect.

Her confidence restored, Octavia crawled under her covers and wriggled to a comfortable position. The relaxation she had so desperately sought and thought lost returned. She smiled. So she wasn’t quite there yet, but did it matter? Even if she was still on the road, she knew where it would end...

“Perfection,” she said simply, letting out a happy sigh as sleep, and pleasant dreams, took over.

Comments

[Hope]

Love it, as a whole the album keeps getting better, its quite peaceful to look at all the simple moments.

[Peregrine Caged]

A statement on my own piece. It is canon to my other short story Al Niente. It and AN (and another short I'm working on now) will both be canon in regards to a much larger VinylTavia story I'll be doing. So, if you like these sneak peaks? There will be more.

[Blue_Paladin42]

You need somepony to wub~
Oh you need somepony to wub~

[FlimFlamBros.]

perfectly peaceful, like a light rain in the spring, or sitting by the fire and reading a novel..... or perhaps an Album

see what i did there? I'm so clever! fantastic entry btw

[Verdigris]

Those words will come back to haunt her: "It'll be easy."
Not always. To quote from Triumph, "Nothing is easy; nothing good is free."
It's that you earn that which is good, and makes you happy, and Octavia can do it. dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Octavia2.png

[Ravenscroft]

Noooo... My Cloudtavia was ruined nearly two fics in a row!
dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Octavia_plot.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Vinyl_Scratch.png
Well, I can't blame Vinyl. Octy is quite impressive when you take everything into account.

[Naveron]

1458299 that was so clever

[shutaro]

I quite like the story, but ... wasn't the point of the Album to have a "it's a normal day"-kind of story? This story actually shows Octavia at a crossroad, unsure about what she will do next. Again, the story is fine by itself, I just feel like it doesn't quite fit with the others.

[JaketheGinger]

1463283

Some days you'll feel happy. Others sad. Others conflicted.

Such is the slice of life.

[Calligraphy]

1463283

I have to say I disagree. Nobody's day is completely 'normal'. People's thoughts, their actions, they're always different. It's a quality of being human. Or in this case, pony. Lots of people spend time thinking about their life. It depends on their personalities, their specific lifestyles. I'm not sure how to explain this any better. But lots of the author's snapshots have some sort of deeper meaning. Mine, sadly, isn't one of them. Mine's just a silly little day in Bon Bon's bakery. This may just be my opinion, but it's something to keep in mind.

[shutaro]

1463887
Yeah... deeper meaning... If I had a cent for every "You're just to stupid to get the real, deeper meaning" from all the Hemingway-wannabes who tried to discuss the meaning of life in a story "Ryoga walks down a road" and failed at it... I could go and buy me another blind bag!
If you want to discuss something profound, just do it, but don't make me guess if that car is a car or a metaphor on four wheels.
I don't like hidden sub-sub-plots in my pony.
And for what it's worth: I like Bon Bon's story.

1464024
No, I absolutely didn't want to insult you. I just reread the introduction to the Album: I don't think you failed at this. I just get a different ... vibe from this story and I think the conflict you pointed out is the reason. Like you said, Octavia will not be able to pinpoint the decision herself but the reader can and how else can I think about it?

[Insanity_Pony]

1457408

Vinyl/Octavia is so over rat-
Nope, couldn't type it with a straight face.

[First_Down]

The detail in the opening parts is very well done, and I was impressed how you engaged the reader's five senses with your imagery: visual opulence, the sound of a whistling kettle, the smell and taste of tea, the feel of hot water and shampoo. Equally, I enjoyed how you worked in a resolve without actually writing an ending. It keeps that big door labeled "what happens next" open. I admit I haven't yet read any of your other works, so I don't know if this a prequel of sorts that was already addressed, something that comes later, or a separate one-shot set in the same fan universe.

If I have any criticism it's that the introspective transition Octavia undergoes from "what is true success" to "I am lonely" felt a little rushed. Each half of the internal conflict was handled well and fits the mindset you created for this character, but the actual progress of thought from point A to point B happened in a short paragraph. Compared to the rich, deliberate pacing of the rest of this snapshot I was left wanting more in that moment. But it's a minor thing. Overall, this was a fantastic read and it whets my appetite for Al Niente as well as your upcoming future, personal projects.

[Nolonger active]

But none of those rich snobs you play for want anything new, came the other voice. A risk like that could leave you a failure and shunned from all the concert halls in the city.

This is pretty much the TRUEST thing that can be said about the classical music scene. If a musician becomes a composer, they must find a group to play, and a group to pay. If a Composer decides to compose a piece, the only way to hear it is to go through the same process. Many Symphonies hate new works. Many musicians are lazy. Thus we find ourselves between a rock and a hard place.

Though this is briefly mentioned, I find this to be what really made this story for me. It explains how asinine the Classical scene is. I realized this, but I still love it. Too much ranting. :P

[Spectral]

I sense incoming TaviScratch.

[Twi-Guy]

1464221
I like to think that the authors put a little bit of themselves into each story. Perhaps this is what you felt?

[LoveAndTolerateEveryPony]

Am I the only one who noticed they said STALLION? This was a good one, but Tavi will find out love is anything but, perfect or normal.
~LATEP