Sheet happens.
Octavia had thought she was lonely before.
Oh, how she envied the innocence and naivety of herself mere hours before.
Octavia grit her teeth around the double-bass’s carrying case. The faux-leather grip did little to alleviate the weight, true, but she doubted she could have carried it this far as it were if it had been a polished-brass finish instead, as some unicorns preferred.
Well, not without having her dentist appear out of nowhere out of sheer professional horror.
“Well, even then, what I wouldn’t do to have some company through this trying endeavour.” Octavia griped internally as she took another laboured step away from her loft, another laboured step towards the concert hall.
“If not, at least, for a helping hoof. Logic would serve that this would get a little easier over the years, would it not?”
The ever-growing weight of the instrument she was lugging beside her, the gnawing pains in her sides, spoke volumes of proof to the contrary.
“I suppose I was younger, then, too.” She muttered to herself through the handle, eyes flashing dangerously at the ponies walking passed her, as if daring them to comment on her age. Whilst, intellectually, Octavia knew that they simply hadn’t understood her garbled begrudgements, her emotional side was declaring a small victory in allowing herself to be categorized as “young-ish” another day uncontested.
The thought got her through the next ten steps.
“Eugh. Vinyl’s off being, well, Vinyl, I suppose, so she can’t help. No-pony in the orchestra would help me, none that I could trust, certainly. It’s all politics to them, power-plays rather than, as Scratch would say, power-chords.”
Two more lurching steps and a sullen sigh.
“Making First Chair should have made life easier, simpler at the very least, but now I have to deal with squabbling string sections, persnickety percussionists and feuding flutists fighting for my favour, or my failure.”
One more lurching step. Octavia tried to raise the next hoof in sequence, a hindleg, but she ended up just falling back on her plot, sitting down with a rough, defeated exhale, placing her instrument case down beside her with far more dignity and care that she had allowed for herself.
She sat unnoticed, unheeded, invisible on the Canterlot street. Unless a bypasser knew her, really knew her, she was invisible. It was a trick she’d learned rather early on in Canterlot: Beggars and buskers were unnoticed with a determined passion in the city. The mere act of sitting on the cobblestones with an instrument gave the musician a perverse sense of privacy. Nopony glanced at her twice, in fear of being guilted out of some of their ‘hard-earned’ bits.
It also fed the growing beast welling up inside of her that she had come to know as ‘loneliness’.
“Why has this instrument become such a burden?” She fumed in her little bubble of isolation amidst the bustling city-dwellers, turning to address the subject of her current distress “It surely can’t purely be the physical aspect, can it?”
She stared at the worn case, immaculate and immolated in equal parts through years of love, with an eyebrow raised at it, as if expecting a witty response from it.
As usual, none came.
“Oh, come now,” she chided the inanimate container, “all these years we’ve shared together and you continue to have no insight for me now, in our time of need? We used to have such amazing, wonderful times together, you and I. We used to be spectacular together, gracing the symphony, we could spend hours just playing, just practicing, just-”
It was at that very moment that a cold snap rocked down Octavia’s spine and engulfing her entire body to the tips of her hooves, every hair in her grey coat bristling as the wave broke over each in turn. The world went grey and black, the rich tapestry of the sound around her became a dull, faded blur of hollow and distant echoes. For the briefest of moments her heart fluttered weakly against her rib cage as the musician realized just how scared she was at this very instant in time.
“I just realized that I was saying all of that in past tense, wasn’t I?” she continued, mystified.
She paused, thoughts and ideas warring in her psyche, a turbulent and crashing mess of dissenting opinions that refused to coalesce. The grey earth pony, in a world just as grey as she at that moment, decided to see if maybe it would be slightly less confusing if she were to think out loud.
“I don’t think,” she began numbly, “I love what I do anymore.”
Oh, buck.
‘So much for making anything less confusing to me.’
She became dimly aware of a faraway voice calling to her.
Octavia blinked once, twice, finally coming to terms with reality, grudgingly, once more to address the yellow-orange pegasus in front of her.
He had a worried smile and a scraggly brown mane that calmed the earth pony down a little.
“Miss?” his rough voice rumbled at her ears, dimly registering in her mind.
“Miss? Are you alright?”
Octavia nodded slowly, more to herself than to the pegasus.
He frowned slightly.
“Are you sure?”
Octavia, still staring directly ahead with a look that could only be described as ‘shell-shocked’, twitched as if to nod again then, thinking a little more on it, shook her head instead.
“No. No, I don’t think I am.”
“Oh.” The pegasus said simply, eyeing the large case beside her. “Would you like some help, then?”
“Yes.” Octavia spoke slowly, enunciating very carefully as if worried that her words were fragile and delicate, that they would shatter if they weren’t treated with caution, “I think that I would very much like some help right now.”
“No worries at all, m’am.” The pegasus nodded politely and gently picked up the case beside her, Octavia staring at him like he was the most fascinating creature she had ever seen.
“Thank you, so much.” She said graciously.
He smirked in response, his features taking on a hard edge. Malice congealed itself as a glint in his eye.
Octavia barely had time to blink, let alone register the sudden change, when the stranger cocked his wings and made to launch into the sky, instrument in his possession.
He managed to let out one short, sharp bark of laughter before he rocketed up, far away from Octavia’s grasp.
The musician relaxed her body, lying flat on her back on the sidewalk beneath her, forelegs crossed calmly across her chest, contemplating her sudden, overpowering desire for a stiff drink.
There was a soft, almost dainty, knock on the oak door.
Twilight braced herself. Only two ponies she knew would have knocked like that, Fluttershy or Rarity.
Whilst they may have been her friends, and they most surely were, her apprehension at that moment was, she felt, rather well-founded.
On the one hoof was Fluttershy. Notably, the correlation between how far away from Fluttershy she was at this moment and how in tact her jugular vein was still an unknown variable but for once Twilight Sparkle didn’t feel like researching. She didn’t even feel like graphing.
Twilight could, however, officially mark out the final data point on her other incomplete graph “Fear vs. Urge to Graph”. It was the first time she had found a reliable ‘null’!
On the other hoof was Rarity. Whilst she was definitely the preferable of the alternatives...
Twilight opened the door to her imminent doom.
“Why, Twilight, dear, I had just finished on your ensemble and was about to put together one for our other companion this evening when I realized I still didn’t know who it was! Why, I don’t even know what colour to use, let alone gender or size! Tell me, just who shou-”
“Applejack.” Twilight blurted out.
Rarity gave her an unamused look. “No, dear, let me finish, who did you gift that third-”
“Applejack, Rarity.” Twilight insisted.
“Yes, yes, Applejack, but who did you give the ticket to?”
“I gave the ticket,” Twilight spoke slowly, getting the distinct feeling she was walking on faberge egg-shells, “to Applejack.”
“Oh, dear.” Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed together, visibly in thought, “So, you weren’t simply trying to mention an unrelated incident with Applejack?” Rarity massaged the bridge of her nose with a foreleg, muttering for a moment.
“The same Applejack we both oh so dearly know and tolerate? The farmer who thought a garden party involved manual labour? The Applejack that, and I wish this were merely hyperbole, when I told her she was singing a bit sharp, she thanked me for the compliment. I told her it was A Flat Minor she asked me, ‘What’s Applebloom done this time?!'”
Twilight gave a weary sigh of admission.
“To be fair to Applejack, I’m far more familiar with the kind of culture I find in a petri dish, myself.”
“Yes, dear, but at least you appreciate more intellectual pursuits. If you can’t kick it, compete with it or profit from it, at the very least, Applejack-” Twilight’s sudden poker face was answer enough for Rarity to go suddenly quiet again.
“She’s hoping she can put that vendors’ licence she acquired for the gala to a more effective use.”
“Well, as kind a gesture as that is Twilight, there must be somepony that could...” Rarity trailed off, waving a hoof in a vague gesture.
“I know, I know, really. It’s hardly what I’d call an ideal situation, as much as I appreciate Applejack’s company, but let’s face it, she’s the best we could hope for.”
“Fluttershy!” Rarity contested.
“Let’s just say she’s carrying sharp herself.” Twilight grimaced.
Rarity raised an eyebrow, but continued. “Rainbow Da- Nevermind, she’s worse than Applejack for this sort of thing. Just as easily bored but a lot more vocal about said. Hrrm.”
Rarity tapped a hoof to her chin thoughtfully.
“Pinkie Pie? She does have a certain appreciation for music, doesn’t she?” Rarity wondered aloud.
“That’s what I thought too. Sorry, Rarity, but I’m going to enjoy this.”
“Enjoy what, dear?”
“The chance to see what my face must have looked like when I imagined all the things Pinkie Pie could have done had I invited her.”
“I have no idea what-” Rarity’s face started spasming violently, as if she’d just had a stroke as she bit into a very spicy lemon.
Twilight just sighed again and nodded.
“We’re definitely bringing her back a record for her gramophone, though.” Twilight helpfully added. “Just because we can’t bring her to the orchestra doesn’t mean we can’t bring a bit of it back for her.”
Rarity shook her head slowly, attempting to toss the previous catastrophic ‘what-ifs’ from her mind’s eye. A few quick blinks later and she was ready to address the waking world again.
“A kind gesture, one that is probably for the best.” Rarity agreed.
“Who does that leave us with?”
“Spike?” she asked hopefully.
“Right now he’s searching for gems. He’s sort of looking forward to a night alone, probably because that means I won’t be here to stop him from gorging himself.”
“Lyra?” Rarity was almost pleading now.
“Bah!” Twilight scoffed, “Rarity, even I know that inviting somepony’s marefriend out to an expensive concert like that, without inviting said marefriend, is a tiny itsy bit of a faux-pas.”
“Well, certainly,” Rarity mused, “But we’re both exclusively into stallions, are we not?”
Twilight coughed awkwardly. More of a surprised choking, really.
Both eyebrows shot up this time.
“I fall in love with the mind, not the vessel which contains it.” Twilight answered primly, furiously attempting to fight back against the rising blush.
The eyebrows raised yet more on the white unicorn.
“No.”
Twilight nodded a little stiffly, no longer able to make eye contact. The wooden floor beneath them was a lot more forgiving, unless you tripped of course.
A wide, toothy grin enveloped Rarity’s face. Twilight was briefly reminded of a picture of sharks she had seen in textbooks. The difference being that Twilight was not nearly as afraid of sharks. The only thing they could do was eat you.
“Oh, this is just wonderful!” Rarity beamed.
“Really.” Twilight deadpanned.
“Of course it is, dear, of course it is!” Rarity continued on, though she quickly changed to hushed tones and drew in closer to the terrified mare, “Why’ve you kept this to yourself for so long, hrrm?”
“No pony ever brought it up?” Twilight shrugged.
“Oh really?” Rarity went back to playful eyebrow waggling, “Not even, say, Rainbow Dash?”
“Nope.” Twilight shook her head, swishing her bangs in thought. “Why would she?”
“Really.” Rarity deadpanned this time.
“What?” Twilight asked, her tone bordering on hurt. “She isn’t a...”
Rarity waited for the other horse shoe to drop.
Twilight leaned in, eyes darting back and forth for any eavesdroppers.
“Homophobe, is she?” Twilight asked nervously.
Rarity stared for a moment, a very long, drawn out moment. Twilight felt more and more self conscious as the seconds ticked by.
“Bwa hahahaha!” Rarity fell to the floor cackling, wheezing for breath.
Twilight huffed, more than a little offended, but for the moment relieved to know that, no matter how hetero her pegasus friend was, she wouldn’t be singled out by her for liking mares.
It wasn’t until Rarity started banging a hoof to the floor, tears in her eyes, begging for mercy when Twilight realized she had just thought that out loud.
‘Cognitive dissonance’ Octavia recalled. ‘The distress one feels when one holds two conflicting ideas and keeps referring to oneself in the third person.’
On the one hoof, she had just been robbed of her oldest, most treasured possession. On the other hoof, she had been robbed of it because she was still far too busy contemplating what meaning, if any, it still had to her.
Any bitterness she had for her assailant had disappeared immediately after she noticed he had flown off in the direction of the orchestra. Now, as she continued her journey unencumbered, she could reflect on the situation without the pressure of getting there in time.
"Well," Octavia muttered to herself as she cantered down the busy streets, "This is, what, the third time this exact thing has happened since we've been in Canterlot? Ah, nothing like it for a bit of stress relief, should give me something to look forward to when I get there."
Octavia was about to laugh at her own thought when she again had the audacity to point out to herself that she had just implied she wasn't looking forward to actually playing the concert that evening.
"Why do I need to be so bloody perceptive sometimes?" she growled to herself, further reinforcing the little pocket in the crowd around her she had carved out for herself, "I mean, really, you'd have thought that would be more the conductor's role, or the composer's. I mean, really, even the pony who crafts my instruments has more need for perception than I do, all I do is rub some tight strings together and make a pretty noise and look thoughtful." She paused for a moment, mentally chiding herself.
"That's not true," she conceded to herself, "I'm very good at making the pretty noises by rubbing strings together. I'm the best string-rubbing pony there is in Canterlot I dare say!"
She smiled to herself in an odd sense of pride, contrasted greatly by the looks of ponies around her. Octavia had long ago passed the point of self-consciousness. She was drunk on self-revelation at the moment. The hangover could come later.
"And until I find something that would cure this inexplicable bout of ennui-" Octavia continued the train of thought to its logical conclusion, "-I don't think I should do anything rash. I can't simply quit on years of striving and passion and work because of a bad day, as much as I have come to realize it is something far worse. No, I'll play tonight, I'll play just as well as I usually do, as I always do, and we'll see what comes next then."
She rounded the corner to the theater that night's concert was being held in. It was an elegant behemoth, a creation of marble and granite and dark glass with a long, domed roof. Unicorns and earth ponies whose special talent had been sound spent months of collective brain power working out the precise acoustics and materials to use for this very building.
It was an engineering marvel, as beautiful to behold as it was practical. Whereas large construction being called 'practical' may seem like an oxymoron the use of natural acoustics instead of magical amplification saved a lot of unicorn-power for sound that was arguably superior. Thousands of ponies could be seated in the gorgeous creation, at various heights and distances, and still hear the music perfectly.
As well they should.
It was also a convenient marketplace for pegasus ponies looking to hock a stolen instrument on short notice.
"Hello there!" Octavia smiled brightly at the bewildered thief from earlier. He was puffing, far too out of breath to take wing again, just as Octavia knew he would be. It was a thrice-darned heavy burden to carry as it was on hoof.
"Thank you so much for carrying that for me, you were a real help." Her expression was saccharin sweet.
"Look, ma'am, I don't know which of us you're trying to kid here, and whilst you caught me fair and square, I'm not exactly a fair and square kind of guy. I'm not heartless though, I'll give you a real markdown on what I was hoping this'd get. Most guys like me? They'd just shuck it to you with a mark up for sentimental value. So what do you say?" He gave a soft, bitter smile, "200 bits?"
They both knew that if Octavia called the guard it'd be a lot easier for the pegasus to cut his losses, destroy the evidence, and flee. In his own mind he truly was being generous.
Octavia's smile never faltered for even a second. It was only when she blinked that you could see the acid lurking behind her eyes.
"Alright, girls? We ready to go?" Twilight called from her room to the two ponies waiting for her in the library's foyer.
"Just a minute, Twilight!" Rarity tittered, "I've still got to get Applejack into her ensemble!"
"What?" AJ sneered, "You'd be embarrassed to see me in public otherwise?"
"No, Applejack," Rarity sighed, "that implies I won't be embarrassed of you if we can squeeze you into this."
AJ shot her a dangerous look. "You callin' me fat?"
Rarity scoffed. "Again, no, Applejack, fat I could work with. There's at least a bit of give to it. You've put on a fair bit of muscletone since I last measured you. Dressing you is far more like upholstering furniture than haberdashery."
"Oh." Applejack thought that over a bit. "That's all right then. Guess I don't have to feel too guilty about feeling a mite bit peckish then."
"Oh, fine" Rarity groused, "If it'll keep you still for a moment."
Rarity's magic enveloped a few mushrooms from the kitchen counter. The mushrooms danced and eddied across the room to Applejack's eager and expectant mouth.
"Well, I'm ready to go, and the train is-" Twilight stopped mid-step, finally low enough on the staircase to see her two guests.
"-NO!" Twilight wrenched the mushrooms out of Rarity's magic. Rarity shuddered, her mind cowering from the instantaneous conflict lost to the insurmountably more powerful unicorn. It was an awe-strikingly awful experience, like losing an arm wrestling match to a migraine that could bench press a steam engine.
Rarity was so overwhelmed by Twilight's display of power, the first time she had actually, truly, felt the depths of the unicorn's power, that it had to be Applejack that voiced the obvious question first.
"What in the blue-blazes are you doin' Twilight?" She moaned, "I'm starvin' and those smelled delicious. You weren't savin' them for yourself, were you?" She asked, momentarily chastised.
"Those were Amanita phalloides specimens! How many did you eat, Applejack?!"
"In Equestrian, Twilight?"
"It's a type of alpha-Amanitin producing basidiomycete fungus!"
"Twilight, I have no idea which Equestria you thought I was referring to, because it was obviously not this one. So, what, it's got a lot of vitamin a in it, or-"
"It's colloquially known as a death cap mushroom. How many did you eat before I stopped you?" Twilight demanded again.
Applejack's eyes bulged in shock, creating an expression uncannily similar to the one Rarity still wore.
"None, that was going to be my first bite. So, what, that sweet smelling thing could have killed me? Aren't poisons supposed to be all bright and bad-smelling and such, so as critters don't accidentally eat them?"
Twilight beamed for a moment. "Very correct, Applejack, which is why this is possibly the deadliest of all known mushroom species. Not only is it so toxic, but it actually looks identical to straw-mushrooms, which I've got in the ice box if you're still hungry."
"Ah, no offense, Twilight," Applejack looked rather queasy all of a sudden, "But I don't feel particularly safe eating mushrooms identical to the deadly-poison ones if you're keeping them next to each other."
"Nonsense, Applejack, they're in completely different locations. The safe ones are in the kitchen and the dangerous ones are-"
"Rarity grabbed these ones from the kitchen, Twilight." Applejack deadpanned.
"Oh." Twilight frowned deeply.
"So?" Rarity asked hopefully.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, Rarity."
"Oh, hush, Twilight, if we don't feed this bottomless pit soon she'll never keep still."
"Ah. Well, I'll cut up some fresh fruit, and I'll make a mental note to bring samples back to the lab after preparing them immediately."
"I swear, darling, it's just like that time Pinkie Pie tried to stir that powder into her tea and it exploded." Rarity shuddered. "The nerve of a cup of tea, of all things, acting so brutish."
Twilight nodded seriously. "Yes, well, it's a good thing the phosphorous exploded before she could drink it. Wouldn't do to poison Pinkie Pie, that'd be pretty prickly to puzzle out."
"Well, at least poisoning is a lot more ladylike, far more befitting a good cup of tea." Rarity nodded to herself.
"There is an awful lot I don't understand about the upper classes, Rarity. Thank you for reminding me why."
Twilight sealed the last of the killer mushroom in a glass jar and sealed it. As she trotted back down to the lab to find a place for it, brow furrowed in concentration as she focused desperately on not tripping on her flowing blue gown, she managed to call back a final few words of wisdom to her friends.
"I think I got it all, but just to be on the safe side, if something appears to be really sweet when it shouldn't be, it's probably going to try to kill you."
"200 bits is fair enough, I suppose, to compensate you for your troubles." Octavia sighed and gave the stallion an apologetic, giving off the honest appearance she was sorry for inconveniencing him by making him rob her.
'Always play into the ego. Pretend you're talking to Vinyl."
"Could you please just lift it up for me? I'm just going to grab my bits purse..." The grey earth pony trailed off, half-turning as if to grab a non-existent bag from her back. As she knew he would the pegasus turned as well, bending over to grab the heavy instrument in his teeth.
Octavia's sweet smile became a ruthless grin as she tensed her body like a spring. The pegasus was bowled over, his center of gravity far more forward than it should have been to pick up the heavy double-bass, as Octavia delivered a bone-crushing blow to his furry plums.
With a satisfied smile and a wink Octavia picked up the instrument from the ground and curtsied the crippled pegasus, whose gasps of pain were only matched by his expression of unbridled shock.
He tried to muster up a profanity, a curse, anything, but it all came out as a high-pitched wheeze as Octavia entered the building that she would perform what could possibly be her last concert ever.
With a determined nod, Octavia strolled in to take her position on stage behind the red curtain, to await her fate.
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It's a good story with no spell errors I've seen so far
Spector?
Keep it up though. I like
I can't add as favourite? Aww
2120072
Yeah, that's too bad.
Story looks very promising, I can't wait for more!
I loved Octavia's argument with herself, reminded me of this:
imgs.xkcd.com/comics/computer_problems.png
Oh, one thing, though:
Well, two things, actually.
1. It should be "bench press", not "bench lift".
2. That should be "like losing an arm wrestling match"
NOW I can add as favourite
And then the timing. Oh my.
Okay, Octavia rather stole the show in this chapter. Enjoyed every bit of it and look forward to reading the rest.
It's a relatively rare pairing, but I always enjoy seeing what authors will do with stories revolving around Twilight and Octavia. I certainly hope this one keeps going on through to completion, as its lively, fun and I'm looking forward to more!
TwiTavia?! NO. This ship is not allowed to happen. It is FAR too dangerous! Don't you realize that a shipping of this magnitude will make every single other ship obsolete?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
Despite my stories shipping Twilight with Luna and Dash (not at the same time), I do have a soft spot for TwiTavia. Stories like "Private Gig" have always been fascinating to me. I'll definitely give this a read.
2125742
i have to disagree with you, i prefered the Twilight-parts. The Mushroom and the Rainbow dash-part exspecialy.
2126479
I can see why that would work for some people. I just like the image of Octavia being violent with a smile. It makes me grin.
she kicked him in the balls... he he
2126484
huh you just made me realize that the sentence
is a reference to the following Octavia-part
Omg, a Twitavia ship fic! So gonna read it! 8D
When i find the time for it...
TwiTavia? Instafav
2126954
no no no, it's TaviLight
2126836
That entire scene was a set up for that single line, and an homage to "The Study of a Winning Pony".
I couldn't stop laughing as I wrote it guys, I swear.
2121985
You can now, and I'm hoping to have the third chapter up by the end of today!
That Line!
Great writing. I look forward to reading more of this story!
2126515 That was hilarious wasn't it.
2127906
It's only 11:45am here, and I've already got nearly 3,000 words done on the next chapter since i woke up today.
Brisbane, Australia.
Yeah, this is about where I lost it.
I'll be keeping my eye on this one! Shows a lot of promise!
2128757
i1.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/007/031/131693703696-First_Discord_image_.png
25.media.tumblr.com/1fc33445bd2b5f67ef2bdd3e97fd993f/tumblr_mf7cgbYxnT1rkoe94o1_400.gif
2129115
Sorry to reply to my own story so many times, makes me feel so narcissitic-
Echem.
The next chapter is done, I wrote 5,000 words in 5 hours, but I'm halted by my lack of pre-readers at the moment, so it's in limbo, and because of the way the plot turns in this one I can't simply write the next chapter whilst I wait.
2125884 cmon, it is fun shipping Twilight with Rainbow and Luna at the same time
Well, despite the excessive build up with filler I didn't feel was totally necessary, the story certainly has character and has been interesting thus far. I'll keep an eye on it to see if it picks up in the coming chapters.
I haven't read it yet but I just wanted to mention something.
Octavia's a musician, so why is it called Sonnets by Twilight, A sonnet is a type of poetry not music and while the difference is thin, because the lyrics in a lyrical song is like poetry put to music there are different names for them because of that.
Moral learned: NEVER steal Octavias cello if you still want to have kids^^
That is why Octavia is best pony
Rainbow Dash... homophobe...
Oh god, I can't stop laughing. I wasn't going to post until the next chapter, but that was the funniest thing I've seen all day. Possibly all week.
2125452
Oh shit, I just got that.
A wee bit redundant there.
2148121
And repetitive.
2127254
I see what you have done here. I'm watching you...'re story!
Things are starting out in an interesting manner, and I think I will be continuing with reading more chapters of this story. The humor and characterization have been solid, and I look forward to reading more.
You can remove one of the "sealed."
Finally gotten around to starting this one.
Thanks, Numbers, I just peed myself with laughter. Just a little dribble, but pee-none-the-less.
Wow, just wow.
This is now my headcanon.
2122597
Ah, you know the world's best nerd webcomic too. :D
Twi has no chance. Octy is awesome. I think that scene should have artwork.
As for her implied misperception of Dash... Comedy gold. I wonder if she ever DID work it out...
Quick death vs Eternal torture.
That hair speaks volumes so...No, she is definitely not infected by homophobia