Metail Went Down to Canterlot
“You know,” said Thrash, conversationally, as he strummed a few notes, “Even before I got this guitar, there was one tough song I learned to play real well.”
“Then play it,” snapped Octavia.
Thrash grinned. “You got it, mare.”
He began with four sharp strikes on his drums, and then was racing off on his guitar. It was a high-pitched and energetic melody, something that ran along at a breakneck pace and seemed to take pleasure in its reckless speed. Thrash smirked as he went through a difficult sequence, evidently expecting to run circles around Octavia. Can you catch me? his gaze asked.
Skilled as she was, Octavia was frozen for a moment when Thrash began to play. The speed of the piece had surprised her, and Thrash’s magic made things harder too. His notes still sounded glorious, and it made her want to just set her bow down and listen to him forever. But Octavia had a strong enough mind to force herself to begin to play – something just as fast, energetic, and forceful, transcribed a few octavies down to suit her instrument. The real music bolstered the cellist and helped keep her from falling into a trance. Thrash’s magic was still incredibly strong, but Octavia had spent her whole life learning to love music. It had an effect on her stronger than any siren spell.
As her own music filled her ears and Thrash’s magic receded, Octavia began striking back with additional sequences of her own. Thrash’s music was fast, and she had to mentally shift it to lower octaves to work out a response on her cello, but it wasn’t otherwise difficult and she could meet the challenge. She weaved her own melodic line, varying the notes quickly and moving with all the strength and energy she could muster. She couldn’t provide her own percussion, but Crescendo was doing a fine job, playing the drums in a simple, steady beat that gave Octavia’s music more power and force. All together, Octavia was able to push back at Thrash – his music and his magic alike -- as they zipped over the strings.
Thrash brought the piece up into the highest reaches of the guitar before plunging it back down again, but Octavia followed and even began to anticipate his maneuvers. She allowed herself a smirk as she glanced at him. He shrugged, as if to say, ‘I’ll get you next verse,’ and then let his drums take over and his guitar almost drop out. Octavia let her cello fade too, waiting to see what he would do next.
Thrash began to sing:
”Oh, Metail went up to Canterlot,
Looking for a city to steal!
He was in a bind, lot on his mind,
And was itchin’ to make a deal!”
Octavia scowled. He was barely even playing his guitar at this point; he was mostly just praising himself in song. Was he really that confident of his victory? Why? He knows I can resist his spells. Does he have something else in reserve?
”Now, he came across some old nag—“
(Octavia was angered enough to miss a note; she winced, and Thrash’s smirk grew even wider.)
”Sawing on a cello and playing it hot!
So Metail hopped up on her stage
And yelled: ‘Tavi, let me tell you what!”
Octavia and Thrash played a short, sharp sequence, Thrash higher than Octavia but otherwise in perfect synchrony. Octavia smirked at Thrash as she put a little trill on the end to make her section sound even faster; Thrash failed to match it. If he stays like this, I’ve got him. I—
”You probably didn’t even know it,
But I’m a virtuoso too.
And if you care to take a dare
I’ll just make a bet with you!
Now, you’re not a bad musician, Tavi
But give Metail his due:
I’d bet my guitar of black gold against your ‘soul’
I think I’ll better you.”
Soul? Octavia narrowed her eyes. Her mind was beginning to wander; the string melody was so simple that Crescendo was doing most of the work on her side. He probably means he’ll brainwash me if I lose. That’s not an option.
Crescendo began: ”The mare said—“
Octavia stopped her with a glance, then spoke in her stead. ”My name’s Octavia.
And you will get your wish.
I’ll take your bet, which you’ll regret—
Since I’m the best there is!”
Thrash narrowed his eyes and launched into another sequence, this one not just fast but virtuosic. Octavia gritted her teeth and followed.
The melody raced from mid-range to high notes and back down again; it doubled back and forth, as if attempting to throw the musicians off. Thrash was still leading, hooves whipping across the guitar in a blur. Octavia felt the magic pulling at her consciousness, and felt her body and mind wanting to sink down and listen to it, but her own music still helped her fight it back. She did her best to follow the melody in lower octaves, adding twists and turns of her own, but she couldn't deny that she was starting to fall behind Thrash. She winced as she missed two notes, causing her section to ‘skip’ slightly in an audible blip.
Seeming to sense that she needed help, Crescendo began to sing:
”Octavia, rosen up that bow
And play your cello hard.
Metail’s loose in Canterlot
And he holds all the cards!
Now, if you win you get his guitar
Made of blackened gold!
But if you lose, he gets the city’s soul-oul-oul-oul!”
Crescendo stopped just shy of the beat, adding a syncopation effect that Metail wasn't fast enough to exploit. Octavia seized it and began to play a rapid sequence up her cello, and for the first time, Thrash was following her. Octavia played as quickly as she could, whipping the melody up and down, and struggling to stay ahead of Metail. She glanced at him; his lips were pursed and he was scowling down at his guitar. Getting ahead of you… knew you couldn’t--
Thrash brought down his guitar’s notes to match Octavia’s, then moved them back up in an attempt to seize the melody. Octavia tried to hold on to it, and keep it in the lower pitches where she had an advantage, but his horn flared in a burst of magic, and she was struck by an intense longing to bow down and let his notes wash over her. She fought it off in seconds, but he’d already brought the melody back up. He grinned, let the guitar drop off again, and began to patter:
”Metail opened up his case and said ‘I’ll start this show.’
See the fire jetting from his hooves as he rosens up that bow!”
His horn glowed, and sparks and smoke appeared to leap from his bow; he’d clearly brought his pyrotechnics.
”He rubbed his hooves across the strings and made a wicked hiss!
And then his bandmates, they all joined in, and it sounded JUST LIKE THIS!”
His horn glowed again, and one of the curtains behind the stage pulled itself back. Out marched about a dozen of Thrash’s minions, each holding an instrument – drums, violins, even a fiddle. And they began to play.
Octavia’s eyes widened slightly.
Of course. The odds would be in favor of some of his thralls having musical training. After all, he probably got most of them at metal concerts. If he gave them a score before, they could probably learn a simple melody in time. Now they’ll play for him, fill in the gaps he can’t hit, and I have to get through them before I can deal with Thrash, since they can help cover for his weaknesses… I’m in trouble.
The thralls reinforced Thrash, playing a strong, swift set of melodies in the lowest audible pitches. It warped and curled around itself, a musical fog that tried to lure the ear in and not let it leave again. Their music moved just as quickly as Metail’s, strengthening Thrash’s side and driving Octavia out. She played as hard as she could, trying to weave a melody between all the thralls and Metail, but there were so many of them and they were moving so fast that, skilled as she was, even she was having trouble breaking into the music.
She felt herself beginning to slow down as she grew increasingly unable to penetrate the mass of notes. The dark tune was blasting at her, growing stronger and more ominous as Octavia weakened, and as her own cello faltered Thrash’s magic seemed to be gaining power as well. Behind her, she could hear Crescendo beginning to lose the beat; she was clearly as affected by it as Octavia. The cellist narrowed her eyes and tried her best to focus on her own fading notes. I have to keep it together… there’s got to be some weakness, this isn’t how ensembles work for a reason, I have to be good enough to figure out the flaw…
Thrash’s melody continued to increase in power and fury, until it was almost lashing across the stage at Octavia and Crescendo. It was like a storm now, a torrent of sound that threatened to drive Octavia down and silence her entirely. Octavia’s music weakened again; she couldn’t breech the wall of sound the thralls had put up, and the most she could perform was little, superfluous notes which didn’t add much at all to the piece. Not only could she not come up with another strategy, but it was becoming hard to think at all. Thrash’s music beckoned to her, reaching out beyond the simple lines of his thralls and welcoming her to join them, trying to knock out the last of her mental defenses.
I have to do something! she thought. But I can’t get through. No matter what I try, I can’t get through. Maybe I’m not good enough…
No, I have to be good enough. I am the Court Musician. I am one of the greatest musicians in the world. Luna didn’t hire me, Lyra didn’t save me… I didn’t work so hard to save myself… to lose to a mediocrity with a magic guitar, or his band. They believe in me, and I believe in myself. If I try hard enough, I know I can do this.
She had shut her eyes by this point, letting her body play her cello as best she could while she tried to listen to all the thralls and maintain her own sanity. She took a breath to steady herself. Think. He’s not that good in general, even if he knows this song. His thralls probably aren’t that good either; they don’t look like trained musicians. There’s probably at least one that’s weaker, and…
And she heard it.
Octavia had trained her ears relentlessly since deciding to become a musician. She could pick out a single instrument in an orchestra and focus entirely on it, tuning out the rest. It was an invaluable skill for leading groups, since it allowed her to locate the sources of errors or subpar playing even in a large ensemble. Even with Thrash’s magic, he couldn’t overpower her hearing entirely; she was far too strong for that. And now Octavia’s hearing was letting her know the problem with Thrash’s band. She could hear it as if it was the only instrument sounding: one of his players, on the fiddle, was weaker than the rest. She was playing very quickly, but the spell that forced her to do as Thrash wanted wasn’t enough to let her play perfectly. She was making occasional errors… and her part wasn’t all that hard either, aside from the speed. She was the weak point.
Octavia picked out that player’s tune and began to imitate it on her cello. This didn’t let her affect the music, since she was just copying one of Thrash’s themes, but at least she was able to play something. Her music isn’t hard to beat, but I do need to go faster than her. I have to speed up and--
“Octavia,” hissed Crescendo. She sounded exhausted. “I can’t keep this up much longer, his magic’s too strong. If you can’t play more—“
“Thirty seconds,” murmured Octavia, working out the problem in her head.
“What?”
“I need thirty seconds.”
“…I'll try.”
Octavia increased the complexity of the theme, filling out the nooks and crannies that the fiddle player wasn’t quite reaching, while staying clear of the notes from the other thralls and Thrash. This required her to go even faster while weaving around the fiddler in a very small pitch range, and even Octavia wasn’t fully comfortable playing at these speeds in such a constrained environment. She would have to rely on Crescendo’s beats if she continued, so that they could stabilize her and make sure she didn’t start losing the time. But she had no other option, and she would have to trust that Crescendo could keep it up. Come on… no choice, I have to move forward… now!
Her bow blazed along her cello as she began to run circles around the fiddler. Though only one part of Thrash’s medley, Octavia’s cello drew attention to it, raising it up in prominence above the others in the group and even Thrash himself… and also highlighted the player’s lack of skill, at least in comparison to the Court Musician. Octavia blinked sweat out of her eyes, trusting entirely on Crescendo to keep time for her, since she was now moving too fast to do it herself. She just focused on wrapping her own melodic line around the other musician’s, as tightly as a knot, adding a complexity and richness to it that Thrash and his minions couldn’t hope to match.
Thrash snapped something at the fiddler, who began to speed up, but now she was missing her notes. She clearly wasn’t used to playing at this speed, and thanks to Thrash’s magic she was too addled to adapt in a sensible manner. And there was something else too, a vague, scratching sound, barely audible over the sound of the music.
Octavia cocked an ear, and despite the exhaustion that was starting to overtake her – between the breakneck speed and the magic, she had rarely had a more exhausting performance – she felt a surge of hope. I know that sound. Oh, Thrash, you idiot. That instrument’s not in good repair. If I keep going for a few more seconds… She smiled. There was tooth in it. Got you.
“Octavia…” whispered Crescendo.
“Five seconds.”
She kept playing, as did all the others, and then—
The fiddle player’s leftmost string snapped.
The player squeaked, the shock of her instrument breaking apparently breaking some of her mental fog a bit. She kept trying to play, but she was flailing now, and she wasn’t in a condition to deal with being one string down. Thrash glared at Octavia with a gaze of pure hate before snapping at the fiddle player, “Just sit down!”
But the band was in disarray, and Octavia grinned. Perfect.
She called out, ”If you’re all done, I have to say, you have some skill there, Thrash:
But you might as well give up now; I’m putting you in the trash!”
She began to play, starting in the hole that the fiddle player’s absence left. The cellist played in that section for several bars before raising the melody as high as it would go, taking advantage of the momentum to overwhelm the other players in Thrash’s band. She was back in control now, her music alleviating Thrash’s magic, and she could hear every detail of him and his band. A bunch of simple melodies stacked together; impressive in combination but none of them especially skilled. Yes, it was a wall of sound… but she could hear the cracks in that wall, now. And she had the space to charge up and drive right through them.
Crescendo seemed to be recovering too, banging more complex rhythms on the drums behind the cellist. Octavia let her music blast forward, driven by the drums, running around the thralls in Thrash’s band. Crescendo’s power seemed to flow through her, and it was clear the thralls couldn’t keep up. The real musicians were winning. The conpony and his brainwashed minions were on the ropes.
Octavia grinned. Now that she was in control, she could bring the melody back to something the nobles would know and like. The tune sounded vaguely like a popular Latigo formal dance, so she worked in a more overt melody from that dance. One of Thrash’s violinists was playing something similar, but Octavia easily maneuvered around him.
And Crescendo – no doubt bolstered by Octavia’s deflection of Thrash’s magic -- began to sing:
”Perfect glowing crystals, Latigo dance…”
Octavia played the Latigo waltz for a bit, then switched a rapid, jumpy sequence reminiscent of a Xenophon folk song. Her bow was a blur. Thrash was trying to reorder his musicians, but they didn’t stand a chance.
”Xenophon trot and wine from Prance…
Octavia saw two more of the band stop on whispered orders from Thrash, and a third simply collapsed, seemingly exhausted beyond the ability of Thrash’s magic to sustain her. She just kept playing, a soaring melody that overwhelmed Thrash’s ominous work, and was far more appealing to the ear.
”Ponies in the parlor, picking up hay…”
Thrash’s eyes were bulging, but he didn’t seem able to do anything but just play his guitar all the harder. It wasn’t enough. Octavia rattled off another bright, shining melody, which seemed to mock Thrash’s darker works. Music could be beautiful, it said, so why was Thrash wasting his time with music that could only confound?
”Cellist beats the fiddler, Octavia, neigh!”
Octavia almost did before catching herself. The music streamed forth from her cello, and Crescendo rattled off increasingly intricate rhythms that Octavia heard and worked into her melodies. Meanwhile, another of Thrash’s players had an instrument failure when he tried to hit his drum too hard and broke through the skin, and two more had stopped playing. His band had essentially collapsed. The few melodies the remaining musicians played, Octavia just worked into her own music, and made them much, much better.
This continued for almost a full minute, Octavia losing herself in the performance and playing a long, glorious paean to the music of Equestria. It incorporated popular folk themes, famous classical themes, even two strains that Octavia had composed for other performances. She went from one to the next rapidly, a whirlwind tour of the nation’s music. Meanwhile, Thrash could only play the one song, and even that wound up sublimated by Octavia’s performance. Octavia grinned. She was playing amazingly – and winning, besides.
Eventually, it ended. Octavia began to decrease in volume, forcing Thrash down as well. He tried to take advantage of the quieter period to take the melody back, but he didn’t have the music theory knowledge to make that adjustment while sounding good in the presence of the cellist's music. All he could do was just start playing louder, and it sounded so dissonant and bad compared with what Octavia was playing that he was forced to back off.
Octavia said,
”You might as well stop now, Thrash,
As we know that you’ve been beat
Just lay your golden guitar down
On the ground all nice and neat.
And Metail, I know you thought you were some kind of music whiz
But like I told you once before: I’M the best there is!”
And she was off again, playing a brilliant series of themes that wandered all over the nation. Crescendo began to sing as well, as Thrash – now alone, his band silenced from lack of energy or shattered instruments – tried and failed to keep up.
”Perfect glowing crystals, Latigo dance!
Xenophon trot and wine from Prance!
Ponies in the parlor, picking up hay!
Cellist beats the fiddler, Octavia, NEIGH!”
Octavia cut loose, playing a long, extended instrumental section, with all the virtuosity she was able to muster. Thrash tried to break in here and there, but he couldn’t; Octavia was one mare and not a band, but she was of such skill that she could form her own wall of music quite effectively. It kept Thrash out, negated his magic… and produced a cavalcade of beautiful sounds for the nobles in the audience to enjoy.
Two minutes passed, then three. The music continued, washing over the players and the nobles alike. Thrash was starting to tremble under the strain; he’d clearly never played so hard. Octavia, though, had recovered her poise. Her bow flashed over the strings, but the rest of her body was still as a statue; she looked like she could play forever.
But there was no need for that.
Thrash stabbed at a note, missed, and struck two other strings by mistake. The resulting chord was jarring and harsh, like a foal who was plucking at an instrument for the first time. Eyes wide with rage, he tried to recover, but his hooves were shaking now – from anger or strain, Octavia couldn’t tell – and he missed more and more notes.
By the conclusion, it was truly no contest. Octavia finished with an elegant take on a Canterlot dance, finishing exactly on the beat with a glorious cadence. Thrash staggered in, a mess of jumbled notes pouring from his guitar, more noise than music by that point. He wasn’t even in time with Crescendo’s drums, and he’d long since been forced to stop playing his own. There was no comparison with Octavia’s music. The only clear sound from his guitar was a fizzling noise, like a spell was being extinguished. Thrash didn't even seem to notice this as he tried in vain to scratch out a few more notes from his guitar. It was several seconds before he stopped.
The two looked at each other, and then, scowling, Thrash lowered his guitar. He seemed to know it was useless.
Octavia had won.
“Don’t think this is over.”
Octavia turned. She had been looking at the nobles, most of whom seemed very confused by what they had just heard. They’d like the last part, when Octavia had taken over, but the first half of the piece… well, Octavia couldn’t blame them for not understanding it.
Metail looked exhausted. He was panting for breath, and seemed to have trouble standing. Nonetheless, he managed to raise a hoof and point at Octavia. “I’ll be back… get a better band, real musicians…”
Octavia said nothing.
“I’ll find a way to beat you. I don’t quit, and—“
“Hey,” managed one of the band members. “What’s going on?”
“I thought we were in the club.”
“Where are we?”
“What?” Thrash turned to his thralls. “What do you mean…”
“Siren magic,” said Octavia, “Can be countered by real music. The magic you used to brainwash your band and the others, and that you tried to use to control all the nobles in this room, was blocked by Crescendo and I. Its effects are gone. I wouldn’t expect any of your minions to still be under your control.”
Thrash’s face went white.
“I suppose,” said Octavia, “That you didn’t get a waiver this time?”
“Uh…”
“And I think we can assume you did not ask the nobles first, before attempting to enslave them to your music?”
Thrash looked at the minions, who were starting to look at him with real anger. Then he looked at the back of the stage, towards the exits and escape routes, where ponies were beginning to pour out – his other minions, the ones he hadn’t put in his band. Some of them were Guards, and they seemed particularly focused on him as they approached. And he looked at the nobles, who were staring at him with newfound hostility.
Thrash sighed in defeat and slumped his shoulders. When the Guards put hoofcuffs on him, he didn’t resist.
There was obviously no point to it.
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Hmmm.....With a few adjustments in setting, this could be an episode of the television series.
Wonderful! It really felt like the final boss fight in Guitar Hero III, complete with special attacks (like Octavia's Broken String against the fiddle player), and yet it still worked perfectly as the sort of thing that could happen in Canterlot. As usual, Octavia's supreme skill and integrity are what carry the day. Crescendo was also pretty cool here, and the way you used the different colours to represent who was carrying the main melody was nice. And finally Thrash gets exposed as a fraud and a criminal in front of... well, everypony. Huzzah!
1848139 Well, it's basically "The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000", with music instead of cider. Octavia's integrity and dedication to her art wins over Thrash's shallow tricks and magical shortcuts.
This chapter was everything I was hoping for and more.
That was epic
That was so beyond epic.
And called it! 
Okay, all seriousness, that's one of my favorite songs. 
Truly beautiful stuff, I love your take on it. I found myself wondering if perhaps the guitar would burn itself out and the magic would be lost from such a strain. That or perhaps to have it become purified somehow. Looking forward to seeing what you do with it.
Overall a fair finish to a mostly good story. Wish I could give it more praise than that, but I do sort of feel like events climaxed early, and as such everything after Octavia breaks Thrash's spell in Ch5 just feels kind of tacked on, like the story is just dragging the narrative out instead of resolving to end on a strong note. I suppose the subsequent chapters could have worked as a follow-up fic, or even as the second half of a two-part story, but they'd have needed to be more adequately expanded since as is they just can't stand on their own merit.
That's not to say I didn't enjoy the close, but well, this is a story that started strong but just kind of petered out for me, unable to sustain its own momentum. Also towards the end (especially in the music duel), I just felt like Octavia was crossing a character line. Not that she ever went OOC, rather, she just kind of flattens out. Her amazing skills and resolve just don't really feel all that amazing, as if the story no longer feels able to show me how awesome she is and instead just starts leaning on itself by reiterating the material already covered in previous chapters. Reading your author's notes, I can't help but feel you dialed back and held off giving this fic the ending it deserved because you switched gears from telling a great standalone story to baiting an obvious sequel hook.
(True wanton instrument destruction can only really be pulled off once, but I'm not sure an epic battle of the bands can really be pulled off all that much more often to begin with. The mid concert restring of her bow probably wouldn't work here, but I regret you didn't work in Octavia intentionally breaking a string on her own cello to hit a note, then continuing to play through handicap; that could have really helped take the ending up to the next level. Likewise, saving the Siren's Guitar for future use was a noble gesture, but I'm not sure we've got all that great a demand for evil instruments of doom, and even if someone wanted to use it again it might have been better if a new instrument was forged from the guitar's shattered remains).
All that said, I still would like to complement you on all the new original characters your introduced. Thrash was every bit a wonderful villain, both sympathetic yet obviously arrogantly self-entitled and in need of a good whipping. Paper weight pretty much stole every scene she was in, but in a good way; she makes me laugh and smile, and so I hope to see more of her in future Octavia/Canterlot fics. Even Crescendo, who was a little flat and generic to start, had won me over by the end for her sheer dedication to the genre.
I expected a great Symphonic Metal - battle and I wasn´t disappointed.
When I read it first without hearing the actual music I somehow imagined it all happening to the melody of My Earth Dream. *shrug*
Anyway, well done as always!
Though, regarding the storyline, I have the same critic as Emeral a post before.
After Octavia´s vistory against Trash at his home it simply wasn´t that exciting anymore...
HEY MISTER AUTHOR!
Your first music link goes to a vid that was removed from youtube for infringement. You need to replace it!
Here, Try this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdL-zDxMhfI
Sadly I'll have to agree with some others here :/ the ending would've been way better if Metail's guitar was destroyed in epic fashion, since not everything has to necesarrily need to be a recurring plot point, and I don't see many people revisiting this plot device in the first place :/ however, I do like the final product either way ^^
Glorious. Just Glorious! Bra-stinkin'-vo dear sir, BRA-VO! The fact that the guitar may see the light of day again worries me, and makes me wonder... Do you plan to write a "Metail went back down to Canterlot", perhaps?