Unearthly Melodies, Memories Eternal

by Hipster Pony Raven Horn

Unearthly Music

Octavia just stood there. The ponies around her were just mumbling and muttering so much meaningless noise. Not many of these ponies had known the guest of honour as well as she did, most of them just attending to look important and sympathetic. But Octavia knew, she knew just what a special mare that the guest of honour had been. She was the best friend that the bassist could have hoped for, and just like that she was gone. Vanished, like a string that broke suddenly and expectantly during a concert. The mare shivered, the mumble of ponies at the wake pressed upon her ears. Vinyl had been one of the most important things about her life… the pain welled inside her. But the relief of tears never came, it couldn’t. Not here, not now. She still had to make an appearance after all. Be the upright pony that everypony expected her to be, the kind of pony Vinyl was constantly teasing her about being.

Octavia swallowed, shivering again. Whomever was in charge of the thermostat for the hall was doing a very poor job at keeping the room a reasonable temperature. She moved through the ponies, so many faceless unimportant canterlot ponies. She supposed that even those who weren’t all that important could still seem to look and feel as though they were. She scowled slightly, turning the death of a pony into a way to further your own social career. It’s a wonder that she ever wanted to be like them. The crowd parted for her, almost seeming to be repelled by her mixture of anger and grief. Her destination finally came into view, a memoriam to the deceased. Octavia stopped before the collections of pictures and records. Staring at this, it seemed all so hollow and empty. Octavia sat down, her ears falling to the sides of her head.

These pictures, all they told were a lie. False images, making the white pony within them seem to happy and full of life. But she wasn’t happy, she wasn’t there, and she never would be. Octavia closed her eyes, trying her best not to cry. She couldn’t afford to, she had to keep up appearances. The pain of it all seemed to be too much. Perhaps, if she sat there it would just subside after time. Perhaps she could just wait it out, not have to go home yet.

Octavia opened her eyes, the crowd seemed to have faded away. Most likely gone home for the night, she wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there. Her eyes seemed numb, had she been crying? She took a hoof to her face, moist. The bassist pony sighed, turning towards the door. If anypony had seen her… but it didn’t matter anymore, nothing really mattered. Vinyl was gone, Octavia was alone, and it seemed as though the dull ache of pain would never subside. The feeling of emptiness pursued Octavia as she left the building, as though somepony had carved out her heart and closed the wound. The analogy seemed fitting to Octavia as she fumbled with the lock of her home. Vinyl had given her a heart, a chance and reason to live. Now she’d have to find it on her own, she couldn’t give up.

The house’s silence seemed to be oppressing, only sering a reminder to the grey pony that there was something missing. She needed something, anything, that would get her mind off of the missing pony. Perhaps some time practising before going to sleep would help her calm down. The grey mare made her way towards her practice room. Everything was there, nice neat and orderly. It was one of the few rooms that Vinyl wasn’t supposed to enter so it was one of the few rooms that generally was kept clean. Octavia smiled briefly, taking in the room’s scent. A slight level of calm washed over her, the thought of being able to play in peace for once was calming to her. She trotted over, setting up her bass. Tuned to perfection, Octavia pulled out the piece she was working on, pulling the bow across the string.

A few moments passed, Octavia’s pain dulling slightly. But the longer she practiced the more it hurt, she’d almost always have to compete with Vinyl for practice time, almost always would have to wait for a lull in whatever monstrous noise her roommate would cook up before she could start up again. This, here and now, just seemed far too easy, far too simple. The bow clattered to the floor as Octavia slid down her instrument. Tears were welling in her eyes, the realisation hitting her again. Vinyl was gone, and she’d never get the chance to say goodbye.

Octavia was a professional though, her hoof remained steady. Still, the notes quavered, seeming to be varying of volume. Louder softer louder softer. The notes never seemed to be steady. Tired, she was so tired and her sorrow only seemed to weigh her down. She couldn’t practice any more, she really just needed to sleep. Octavia closed her eyes in anticipation of her rest…

Octavia stirred, extremely comfortable. She stretched, feeling something soft amongst her fur. She was nice and cool, and thinking that Vinyl had left the air conditioning on again she opened her mouth to speak. Then the memory hit her, but she seemed so comfortable, could it all have been a dream? She opened her eyes. Her eyes fell on Vinyl’s pillow, laying there as it was, undisturbed. Octavia sighed, closing her eyes again. There were no tears this time, no stinging. Only emptiness.

Octavia’s breath quickened. All she could see was blackness, darkness. Her head whipped around, trying to find something anything of definition. Nothing, just empty blackness. She called out, hearing nothing but feeling that she still spoke. She was alone, truly alone. Again she called out, again there seemed to be no sound yet something was heard. Again she cried, Vinyl’s name echoing in the darkness. Seeming to be both tangible and imaginary.

Octavia jerked awake, looking around. Her bass lay across her, its bow lay fallen a short distance away. She must have been more exhausted than she thought, dreaming. The house was quiet as she slowly put her beloved instrument away. Vinyl would probably either be out or asleep by now… but no… she wouldn’t be. Vinyl could never be out anymore, but she would be asleep… asleep forever.

Octavia sighed, dragging her feet up towards her bed. She wondered to herself if Vinyl dreamt of her, in her eternal sleep. Would she be there, alone, without… no, Octavia didn’t want to think about that. She forced herself to crawl into bed, wishing more than believing, that Vinyl had pleasant dreams, forever more. The sheets seemed so soft… comfortable and cold. She closed her eyes…

Octavia’s stinging eyes opened. She shook her head, apparently having drifted off from merely closing her eyes while laying in bed. The nightmare she had seemed far too real though. She yawned, gliding through the sheets and softly touching down upon the floor. She felt so light, though still she could feel the weight of her loss upon her. She shifted down the stairs, and soon found herself eating. She chewed happily on the oatmeal, having been unaware of having any left in the house. She loved oatmeal, it always seemed to get her in the right mood for a good day. Though when she finished the feeling of sorrow returned. Vinyl had a ravenous appetite of oatmeal, and what Octavia found likely would have been enjoyed by Vinyl if… but no, she shouldn’t dwell upon it. She already thought about it far too much.

Octavia drifted towards the door, sliding outside. A walk, that’s what she needed, yes. Outside the sun shone behind a light cover of clouds. Octavia smiled, walking out through the crowd doing her best to seem cheerful. Passing thousands of ponies with no recognisable features. Not that she was surprised by that. Being quiet and dignified was appropriate in public, and in a city like Canterlot new faces were always expected. A quick walk over to the park and it’d all be better. She closed her eyes, thinking of the calm the park would bring her.

Octavia yawned, stretching on the park bench. Her nap seemed to be rather refreshing. She opened her eyes, looking around at the park. It seemed as it was when she first entered, sort of muted with grey. The flowers didn’t seem as bright, the birds didn’t seem as loud. But she had read before that depression could cause such effects. Perhaps she should see somepony about this. Octavia stretched again, thinking that perhaps she should just have a bit of a topper of her nap…

Octavia gasped, her breath falling short. Darkness, she was in darkness again. Twice in the same day the same nightmare. She scrabbled at her neck with her hooves, trying to breathed. But no breath was to be found. It was though her lungs just wouldn’t work, as though something was wrong. Panic, she was panicking…

Octavia opened her eyes just in time to avoid running into a wall. She shook her head, swerving out of the way. The ponies parted for her as she shook her head. She had been scolded many times in school for day dreaming. She had thought she had just about kicked the habit, but apparently not. Still, she was headed to the park. As she walked in the first thing she registered was the flowers seemed a bit dulled, as though they had lost their vividness. The bird’s song didn’t seem as loud. It was as though the world around her was mirroring her mood.

She sighed, walking through the park. She was starting to think that perhaps the park wasn’t any better than her house in escaping that overbearing weight of sorrow from losing her… but that wasn’t what she wanted to think about now. She needed to push that to the back of her mind, the more she dwelled upon those memories, the more it would consume her. She forced herself to smile, but even that seemed painful. It reminded her that Vinyl always said that if you smiled you’d feel better. But now it didn’t, now it just felt painful.

Octavia slumped upon a bench, laying down. It all seemed so futile, where the slightly overcast sky this morning seemed to bring her a bit of hope now it only seemed like gloom. She yawned, closing her eyes again. The bench was cool from sitting in the shade of a large tree. Nice and cool, comfortable. Perhaps a quick nap will help take her mind off things.

Octavia opened her eyes, the sun seemed to be much lower than it was when she decided to top off her nap. Had she really been that tired? Stiffly she got up, the bench didn’t seem as comfortable now as it had when she first lay down. The stiffness seemed to persist as she decided to make her way towards the market. Her thoughts drifted towards Vinyl as she passed her old club on her way to the market. How long has it been? She had been pushing off the thought of Vinyl’s death so much that she couldn’t quite remember how long it had been. Was it just before the wake? A week before? A month? She couldn’t remember, and thinking about it only seemed to make her more depressed. Back to the back of the mind it went.

As Octavia wandered through the open market, and in and out of some of the buildings she came across something that she couldn’t get out of her head. When she first glanced over it on the bookseller’s cart she thought little of it. But the more she wandered, the more she wondered, and the more she wondered the more obsessed she became. She finally returned, asking the bookseller what that book held within.

The bookseller smiled, speaking with such certainty that the book held Octavia’s desires, and that it was rightfully hers. The bookseller held up the book, offering it to Octavia. The grey mare looked at the book for a moment, contemplating the nondescript cover. It seemed so plain, but the idea of leaving it just couldn’t cross her mind. She snatched it up, thanking the bookseller. The bookseller merely smiled, nodding. Octavia closed her eyes in cheer, trotting towards home.

When Octavia opened her eyes, she saw her front door approaching her. The book clutched in her mouth as she opens the door. She was so curious that she immediately headed to her living room. She wanted to read, ready to look into the contents of this book that she couldn’t get out of her mind. Somehow, for some reason it was giving her hope. With a light hiss she lit the lamp behind her chair.

As she opened the book, a slight tingle went down Octavia’s spine. Peering into the pages she saw strange glyphs that seemed to both be stationary and yet still move. As she peered into them, something seemed to whisper in her mind. Instructions, a chance to see Vinyl again, to speak with her. Octavia closed her eyes.

Octavia opened her eyes, she’s been working on this project for days. It was almost complete now. Almost… but not quite yet. Octavia needed one last thing, something close to Vinyl. But it had to be very close, and it had to be in the centre of the circle she had drawn. However, she also knew that once she had attempted this act she would not be able to break the circle until it was complete. So, it was clear what she needed to use. Herself, after all the object would not be lost or harmed. It seemed so obvious.

The grey mare stepped within the circle, closing her eyes and hoping, wishing, and calling for Vinyl. When she opened her eyes again it was as she expected. Darkness, but there she was. There was Vinyl, who seemed to waver a bit. She was almost as though she was being seen through a pool. The white unicorn mare wasn’t looking at Octavia, it was though she couldn’t be seen. Octavia waited, her breath baited. But she couldn’t hold it, she called out.

Vinyl solidified, and she turned to look at Octavia. Her glasses weren’t there, her deep red eyes first registering shock, then sorrow. ‘Octavia?’ She said, her voice seeming far stronger than Octavia’s call to her had been. Octavia repeated Vinyl’s name, taking a step forward. ‘Octavia… but… how?’ Vinyl’s voice seemed to be getting weaker. Octavia immediately started to explain the best she could, how she saved Vinyl’s life. But vinyl’s voice came again. ‘You died… no, this is a dream… it has to be a dream…’

Octavia’s heart sank, she? But no, that was clearly what Vinyl had thought about in her eternal dream. Octavia tried to tell Vinyl that it wasn’t a dream, that it was real. ‘I… I need to say Tavi, that I’m… I’m sorry…’ Vinyl spoke again, she seemed to be getting darker, blacker. Octavia panicked, thinking that somehow the act was going wrong. She started to run forward, though Vinyl only seemed to slide away. Octavia started to call out to Vinyl, crying, begging, pleading with her. She didn’t want to lose her again. Vinyl finally melded entirely with the black, and Octavia could have sworn that she heard one last thing. ‘Goodbye… I’ll… dream of you.’ Vinyl’s parting words.

Octavia shook, alone in the blackness. She was cold, alone. She had lost Vinyl again, all she would have to do is wait. And she would, until the blackness receded and she could try again. She had to, but first she must wait. So she sat down, closing her eyes. The dark seemed so cold and small. Cold… small… and airless.

Author's Note:

Well... this is a bit of a re-write of a fic that I originally put on Deviant Art that can be found here: Unearthly Music (original)

I can also say that this is quite possibly one of the most unnerving things I have ever written to completion. Hope you enjoyed it.

Comments

[Regidar]

Ow, my feels.

[LightningDust]

25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mc3g3kxIYy1rihxwyo1_500.gif

[Southpaw]

I really like the premise of the story - it has a lot of potential. But it was very hard for me to read through this story because of its grammar, spelling, structure, and style problems. I could see what you were trying to do much of the time - which is a good thing! - but too often one or more of those problems destroyed your story's credibility and readability.

I should choose a better example, but I noticed this one before I even started reading: 18 out of 28 paragraphs start with the word Octavia, ten of which are consecutive. When I see something like that in any kind of published text, it looks - on the surface - like more of a catalog than anything else. This kind of thing will drag a story down without even trying. Just pick up any novel and flip through: You will never find this happening more than two paragraphs in a row (if even that) - ever - unless the author has deliberately chosen to do it for effect.

I could go through and give you more examples but it might seem like I'm trying to pick apart your story, which has some great potential.

So I'm not trying to bag on you or your skill, but I really feel you should keep working on this one. FWIW I'd like to see it improved.

[Hipster Pony Raven Horn]

1937114
First of all, thank you for commenting. Your point there is an interesting one that I started thinking about, but kinda kept forgetting as I was writing this. I had a plan for how I wanted this to go, and due to the times that I was writing on it I kept forgetting that particular bit of the style that I was attempting to achieve.

I'd like to address one thing though, the spelling is UK standard spelling, since I'm not originally from the US I learned a bit of a different spelling.

Anyway, a good portion of those things were implemented intentionally. If you wouldn't mind I really would like hearing a more detailed explanation as to what you thought was wrong with the story. I'm always looking to improve, and sometimes experimental stories like this can be a bit hard to nail down as to how to structure them. So please , all and any criticism you can give is welcome. I would like you to try and explain it logically to me though, because I'd like to see your thought process and why you thought a certain bit could be improved.

As for the bit you did mention, what I wanted to do was play with the idea of fading memories with the idea that the name would fade out over the course of the Fic, being heavy and forbearing at the front of the story but receding off and tapering off as the fic goes on, until nearly disappearing just before the climax. It could certainly be handled more skilfully, but I'd rather see what else you thought could use some improving before I start on a major revision of the fic.

Cheers,
~HPL

[Southpaw]

1937284 I appreciate your taking my criticism so well. I always worry when I write something critical of someone else's work. I'm hyper-critical of my own, and I don't like to come off as an expert trying to tell anyone how to write. But I do have a pretty solid grasp of the English language, and I read a lot of different types of fiction. I know what I like.

I really thought about it, and I don't honestly know if I could offer advice on the structure of your writing without changing the story and making it mine, and I don't want to do that. Does that make sense? I understand that the circumstances of your story make some disjointedness very appropriate, but the actual flow of the story could improve to make the telling of it less chaotic and more meaningful by the end. Much of that flow would improve by correcting grammar, alone.

As far as UK spelling: I'm aware of the difference and I never have a problem with it, so I would never point that out as a flaw. I was born and raised in California, but I always found the UK spelling of many words to be a bit more elegant, anyway. You actually have very few actual misspellings, but a lot more incorrect uses of words, like "breathed" instead of "breath", etc (I'm not just talking about tense, here).

Some grammatical things could be changed to tighten things up. For example:

Story: "So, it was clear what she needed to use. Herself, after all the object would not be lost or harmed. It seemed so obvious."

My thought: "So it was clear what she needed to use: Herself. After all, the object would not be lost or harmed. It seemed so obvious."

There is quite a lot of that kind of error in this story. It's just basic grammar, but more correct use of it really would make the story read better.

Another thing you could improve is avoiding repetition of themes in your sentences:
"Octavia slumped upon a bench, laying down." Slumping and laying down are two different things, but you made it sound like one action with two different words. A better wording could be:
"Octavia slumped upon a bench, and then lay down, heavy and weary" or something. You could even move the fact that she laid down further on in the paragraph. That way when she slumps, the action is much more effective: "Octavia slumped down upon a bench" and in a later sentence, "She lay down and yawned, closing her eyes again."

Another example:
"Octavia gasped, her breath falling short." Different sentence, different meaning, but same idea. "Octavia gasped." would work so much better with the sentence that follows it (it increases the tension instead of softening it).

It can be hard to not describe everything to the reader, because you want so much for them to understand your intent. But deliberately not giving the reader every detail actually makes the reading flow much better, and it gives their own imagination and emotional response some room to operate, which is a lot more fun. You - normally - just want to point them in the direction you want them to go, not show them how to put one foot in front of the other. So to speak.

The best thing I can offer to make improvements on your writing (after making sure spelling and grammar, etc, are good) is something I do: I lay down a sentence, or a paragraph, or a chapter until my idea is solidly laid down (so I don't lose the stream or details of an idea). Then and I go back through and read it, asking myself about pretty much every word and sentence: "Does this make sense? Is it confusing? Does it tie in well with everything else? How does it make me feel when I read it as though someone else wrote it?" I listen to my feelings about it and if something is off, I find a way to fix it: I either leave it be for a time and come back to it later, or I run it through my head until an answer comes to me. Your mileage may vary.

Sorry, about the length. I hope I didn't put you to sleep or worse, offend you.

[Arkenai]

1937284
Oh hey, a UK (even if ex-UK or whatever) person. Brohoof.

The other guy makes good points.

1938017
Quality comment. All these are good points. I didn't spot any spelling, it was simply that the structure seemed odd. remember when you're giving constructive criticism that if they take it badly it's not actually a problem for you, you can back off or state that you were trying to help. (Not that the author did this, in fact the author has done very nicely here. You just seemed insecure in your comment.)

Anyway, in terms of problems outside of structure, I felt that some of the 'feels' fell slightly flat. I'm a dead soul inside so perhaps its just me, but not understanding what happened, the mystery, detracted from the 'feels'. It wasn't a huge thing though.

Good job, just think about structure more. I suggest looking for a pre-reader (you could join a group). They can help out a lot if you ask them for advice on that.

[Southpaw]

1938151
(Not that the author did this, in fact the author has done very nicely here. You just seemed insecure in your comment.)

I agree on both counts.

[Hipster Pony Raven Horn]

1938017
Thanks, I'll take these into mind and give it a look over later today. I can completely agree with the things you've mentioned and I'm certain that with a revision I can make this a much better story. I'm very grateful that you'd take your time to help me improve. Shows even someone who's been professionally published can make mistakes and has plenty of room to improve.

1938151
Actually, I'm not from the UK, I'm from Australia. I mostly default to the UK spelling though sheerly by the fact that most programs don't have an Aussie spell-check, and since I suck at spelling I kinda rely on spell-check. So I set it to UK spelling because that's pretty close to what I learned early on. So yeah, I'll brohoof you even though your ancestors abandoned my ancestors (Though not really since neither of my parents are actually native Aussies) on a poisonous island. =Þ

As for finding a pre-reader, I already had a few with this though they didn't pick much out of this. This could be either because A) They were tired at the time, B) They're used to how I write or C) Just missed it. I might as well check for groups anyway. Always good to have as many opinions as possible. Group genius after all, those who look with one thousand eyes are often first to find the grain of rice upon the floor.

[Southpaw]

1938601 You've very welcome! I was glad to do it.

"I'll brohoof you even though your ancestors abandoned my ancestors on a poisonous island."
Damn, thanks for sharing that! Totally made me laugh out loud.

Brohoofs all around!

[Hipster Pony Raven Horn]

1938821
Yeah brohoof. You know we totally need a brohoof emote. That would be awesome, but in the meantime this will have to suffice:
cdn.derpiboo.ru/thumbs/1900/900/2012/12/27/02_09_12_893_194272__UNOPT__safe_rarity_image_macro_reaction_image_brohoof

[Southpaw]

1938993 That works. I'm surprised there isn't much out there brohoofish. Or brohoovish.

But also, this.
i.imgur.com/EvUBN.jpg

[Rennoc215]

I knew I would be sad should I read this. Why did I read this?
I don't know.
Well, I'll admit, it was good. Liked and Faved.
But I still think I'm going to cry.

[Arkenai]

1938601

So yeah, I'll brohoof you even though your ancestors abandoned my ancestors (Though not really since neither of my parents are actually native Aussies) on a poisonous island. =Þ

I think I've been trounced here. Curses.

[Nightheart]

jesus mary mother of fuck if that wasn't the BEST dark/tragedy i have ever fucking read.
you...are now followed.

[Hipster Pony Raven Horn]

4743274
Thank you for the glowing praise. This is honestly one of my more favourite stories I've written, though a mixture of how early it was when it was published, both for the site and myself, and the fact that people tend to skip Dark/Tragedy stories has had it come up short of a lot of readers. I also think this might have been a flash in a bottle, and I'm not sure i'd ever be able to accurately write something as unnerving again. I'd like to try, but I've got other things that I'm working on at the moment. Thank you again for the praise.