Metal Riffs, a professional roadie, is helping Octavia change cities. Soon they will learn that they need the help of musicians to survive the city's dangers
After suffering severe harassment from a noble, Octavia decides to leave Canterlot. With the aid of her roadie Metal Riffs she will be forced to change her solitary ways as she faces against other musicians, gangsters and various perils that haunt the Big Apple. How much can the career of a cellist really change before she snaps?
And why does she need to make friends with various artists if they don't even play the same music as she does? She has avoided learning about the importance of friendship, and reality will make her learn. A story taking place in the same universe as Requiem for a Soldier
Octavia looked around her room. Like most dressing rooms, it was relatively small. It had a simple make-up station with a golden-lined mirror. There was a dress rack behind her holding all of her various outfits. She stood up from her stool and began browsing her apparel. The lounge where she worked had a peculiar taste in fashion, most dresses were outrageously skimpy, revealing most of her skin.
Displeased she shouted: "Metal! Get your butt over here!" The door burst open as a muscular man clad in a black t-shirt jeans and a denim vest walked in with a pint of beer in his hand.
"What's the problem Tavi?" He said before drinking from his pewter tankard.
"What sort of perverted drunkard chose these rags?" She asked him while removing an outfit that looked like a bathing suit with frilled cups.
The burly man snorted before returning to normal. "Yeah about that, Sapphire Shores went a little overboard with her last outfit and the boss thought it would be a nice attraction if you looked kind of like her."
"I am neither an exotic dancer nor do I work in a brothel so these clothes are unfit for my profession."
"What about this piece? I think it matches your figure and looks decent enough." He said as he pulled out a grey silk dress from in between other outfits. It completely revealed her back, her breasts were covered by the cloth, which started right at the bottom and split up, reuniting itself in her neck. The bottom was long, reaching up to her heels, and was split from the beginning of her thigh.
She grabbed it and took a long look. "Is this the only one that doesn't make me look like a whore?"
"I don't remember every single outfit, but I knew you would hate most of the selection." He began scouring the rack, but he didn't find anything. "On the bright side, today is your last show, so there's no need to worry about the next day."
Octavia suddenly realized the dark truth, today was her last show. She was sure he wouldn't be able to renovate the contract, her standards were getting lower and she desperately needed to get out of Canterlot. The capital was just not as good as it was before, the once peaceful place had slowly become a pleasure city with several nobles falling for the various vices offered by the Precious Family.
"Very well, could you please step outside so that I may change clothing?" She instructed.
"Very well ma'am, I'll give you some space. Holler if you need anything." He said as he disappeared.
Octavia began taking deep breaths, stretching her muscles and doing her warm-up routine. After warming up her voice she took off her white felt robe. She slipped into the dress and checked herself in the mirror. She really liked it. The dress was comfortable enough for her despite being too flashy for her taste. She accompanied her dress with grey high heels, just because it was part of her job. She never could understand the need to insert nails to one's heels, but it was considered formal.
"Things could be a lot worse." She said to herself. She sat down on her stool and began working on her makeup. Her mother used to say that a no matter how good a dress is, it is nothing if the wearer looks ugly. Typical of her mother, always worried with appearances.
She only put on the first layer, she hated caking up her face. It felt too unnatural. She reached out to her lockbox and grabbed a golden chain with a treble clef pendant. This necklace was the last gift that her teacher, Bass Strings, had ever given her. It wasn't the greatest, but it was the one she could proudly take anywhere.
She was startled by four consecutive knocks on her door. "Show time Tavi." Said the man with the beer pint.
"Very well, what is the audience like today?"
"The usual rich, spoiled kids who brag about useless stuff. I'd tell you want language they like to use, but mama raised me better than them."
"Your mother raised you, they were raised by nannies. The education is very different."
"Not all nobles are bad, I have this one friend who was raised by his mom and he is very easy-going."
"I did not want to state that all of them were bad, just today's audience." She said as she opened the door. "Did you manage to fix the dent in Arkadius?"
"Yeah, and I also fine-tuned her. I was about to replace the strings, but I couldn't find them."
"Thank you Metal."
"Don't worry about anything, you just focus on taking the audience to serenity."
She started walking toward the stage.
"Good luck Tavi." He said before taking another sip of beer.
She looked at her crowd, most of them were sharply-dressed young men; and some were old sharp-dressed men. The female count was very low, with only three women sitting in one table and next to a rich boy. "Brilliant." She murmured.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen I, Octavia the Cellist, welcome you to tonight's performance. For this evening I will be playing Master Crescendo's Flight of Sera in C flat." After bowing down, she took a seat next to her oak cello and picked up her bow.
No one reacted to her announcement, they just kept talking. Typical.
She noticed that the dent at the bottom front of her instrument was none-existent. Metal's repair ability was unmatched. The instrument was even wound tight, making it easier to play.
The concert was like most, calm and not much excitement. Flight of Sera was what she called background music. Relaxing and without much enthusiasm and occasionally with some light applause. She bowed at the end, but it was useless, the decent men were gone and the drunks or junkies were either passed out or howling at each other.
Backstage she started gathering what she left behind in the dressing room. It mostly was her jewelry, but she also left behind some clothes. She had to leave thee get dress behind, even though she had grown slightly fond of it. It was the last she would wear for a show. After packing everything she took one last look at her room, she certainly was not coming back for a long time.
She quickly changed to flats, now those high heels wouldn't be missed, ever.
Outside her old room she saw both her ex-boss and Metal, holding a cased Arkadius.
"Here are your termination papers, I wish you the best for your future." Said the owner with generic cheer, making sure of saying the politically correct phrases rather than his actual opinion. She knew that he was glad she was leaving. Most new talent would probably have to succumb to his dirty ways, unlike her. "You will receive your payment later this week."
"Thank you sir, I hope we meet again soon." said Octavia before putting on her coat and exiting through the back door.
She started walking down the narrow corridor as was showered by the May rain. Frustrated and cursing to an unknown deity, she started running toward her home.
Just as she was coming up to the street she was stopped by a muscular man wearing a black silk suit, but Octavia couldn't make out any of his features.
"Hey babe, nice show." He said in a suave voice.
"Thank you very much, now if you could be so kind as to please move, I need to get to ,y house as soon as possible." She stammered. The rain was starting to freeze her and she feared she would get sick.
The man ignored her. "C'mon the night is young! There's so much two people can do."
"I really have to get to my house and get off this rain. Now if you please..." Said the cellist as she tried to force her way through. But he stopped her.
"Don't make this harder. Come with me or they could hurt you." He said as he stepped into the light. His face was nothing special, just the usual rich boy. Octavia quickly looked back and noticed two burly silhouettes behind her.
"No." She said firmly. She slowly went for her bow, she was going to need a weapon if things got dangerous.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Said the man as he withdrew a small object from inside his blazer. Octavia had lived long enough to know that this was a gun, not something any junkie could get his hands on. Also, he wasn't drunk, so he well knew what he was doing.
She managed to recognize him as Count Pearl Lance, firstborn of the Precious Family. He had gone to the lounge on various occasions, often ogling her for the entire performance.
"Listen babe, you have one of two choices. Either you come with me as I save you or I'll leave you here so those two brutes can do whatever they wish. I think I remember seeing prods in their jackets." He said with a smug grin.
Octavia reacted by slapping his left cheek.
This made the noble turn red with rage. "How dare you hit me! Do you have any idea what I can do to you?" He punched the left side of her jaw. "Now you listen up, bitch, you are coming with me wether you want to or not."
Octavia didn't hesitate, she went for her bow and slashed at his cheek. Her weapon was not the instrument she used to play the cello. It was specially designed with a thin metal blade rather than the usual rubber band. Perfect for self defence.
She managed to scratch him, but he still deflected most of the blow.
"You have no idea of what you just did bitch, now is where I tell you that you're fucked. For life!" He yelled as he raised his fist one more time.
Octavia jumped backwards, barely dodging the blow. Before she could do retaliate she slipped on the wet floor. She was picked up by the thugs behind her, who grabbed her arms firmly.
"Fight me like a man you coward!" She shouted.
She was responded with a swift punch to her stomach.
"This could have been easy for you, this could have been your best night. But you just had to resist." He said as he unleashed another blow to her face.
"Why are the best women so resilient? Why can't you be respectful of your superiors?" He said as he devastated Octavia's stomach.
The cellist just looked at him, but her look didn't ask for mercy. She just stared at him.
"Beg you bitch!" He yelled as he unleashed another blow.
But she said nothing.
Infuriated, Pearl Lance began using her as a punching bag, only stopping when he was satisfied.
"Beg for me Octavia, and all of this will be over. I'll let you become my mistress if you want, but please just beg me to stop."
Octavia managed to conjure enough saliva, mixed with blood, and spat straight at his face.
"You were so beautiful, so perfect, yet you just had to continue endangering yourself. Now, you will become my slave!" He raised his pistol and prepared to shoot her right leg.
"Not if I can help it." Shouted a voice familiar to Octavia.
She heard an electric guitar play a really loud chord, and saw both thugs fly away. Another chord was played and lightning struck down the noble.
Without those ruffians, Octavia fell like a rag doll. But before she could fall something grabbed her arm. She looked her right and saw Metal. His hair flooded with rain, and his left hand was holding something that looked like a battle axe.
"C'mon Tavi, we don't have much time!" He shouted as a bolt of lightning flashed behind him. He lifted her up and started dragging her through the street. She managed to recover and started walking at a brisk pace. They exited the alley and found themselves in a dark street, only lit by the torches of two guards and the occasional lightning.
"Stop those two!" Came the cry from the shocked noble. The guards immediately prepared their halberds and approached them.
Octavia suddenly felt helpless. She was about to be arrested for being a rape victim. That is bound to look pretty on her record.
But it seemed Metal had something else in mind, as he had grabbed his axe upside down with the next flash of lightning Octavia was capable of seeing why he was holding it like a guitar: because it was a guitar. He played a quick solo, and as he jumped in the final notes, he emitted a shockwave that covered both guards.
The armored men fell down as if their armors were turned to lead. Metal rushed forward, pulling the woman with him. But Octavia was in no shape to walk, observing this Metal grabbed her and put her in a piggie-back position before braving the storm.
After some time of intense running in the rain they arrived to a small apartment building. Metal grabbed a key from his vest and opened the door, rushing Octavia inside.
"What just happened?" She demanded as she steadied herself.
"We can't talk here, follow me." Was all he said before descending to what she guessed was the basement.
She was correct, it was the basement. But it was also an underground apartment with little decoration and no windows.
"Sorry about the mess. I didn't expect to bring visits."
"Would you please tell me what just happened? I swore I would be..." Said Octavia before sneezing loudly.
Alarmed, Metal went to what looked like a kitchen and brought a tray with warm tea. He filled up a cup and handed it to her. "You might want to drink this." He said. She hesitated at first, but she began drinking as soon as she felt the warmth of the ceramic. That rain was dangerous, it usually leaves someone sick when at it's best.
"Now tell me, what just happened? And don't tell me you are part of some secret vigilante group that wanted to recruit me so you followed me." She mocked.
"I am not part of a group, but I did hear the boss talking with someone during the show, talking about how he had sold you. I rushed to get Marcy." He lifted his instrument. "And went outside. I thought I was too late when I went outside, but thankfully I was wrong."
"So what happened back there? I have never seen anything like it." She asked
"What you witnessed was the use of musical magic."
"What?"
"Y'know how most wizards use wands and stuff? Well I use Marcy as my instrument!" He chuckled.
"Hilarious." She muttered coldly.
"It would do you well to laugh every once in a while. But enough about that, we need to talk about the future. Where should we go now?"
"I appreciate you saving me, but there is no we. I prefer living alone because it is simpler, I don't have to look out for anyone and no one has to look after me."
"Maybe if you had company you wouldn't be so bitter."
"There is no one who could interest me."
"Ouch, so anyway, I have friends in Manehattan who would love to hear your music. And I'm sure that they would pay better than here. You could live a far better life, and best of all, free of Pearl Lance."
Octavia was intrigued. "How can you guarantee that?"
"Manehattan belongs to the Mare of the South, a really tough woman with no love for nobles."
"I read the papers, and they said that she had been defeated by the Comission."
"She still has power, maybe not as much, but she can still protect you from Mister Tightpants."
"I have to think about it."
"I hope you can make up your mind soon, cuz we should leave tonight. If Pearl is obsessed with you, he will have the entire guard hunting you and my house can't keep us hidden forever."
Octavia thought about her options, she could stay and be enslaved or she could go to The Big Apple and start anew.
"Start packing, we need to go to my house immediately." She ordered.
"No need to pack, I already have my place reserved for the six o'clock train, which should be leaving in four hours."
"But what about your job?" She asked skeptically.
"I quit after your show, without you, I'm also jobless."
"Why would you do that? It's stupid!"
"I'm a roadie, my job has always been to help musicians and you have been the only one to accept my style. Everyone else has been a snobby, mediocre Joe. So either I help you or I risk getting fired. Either way, my career here in Canterlot is over. You know how special these people are."
"But why do you insist with joining me? You could easily get a job for any band in Equestria." Said Octavia coldly. She really wanted to finish this conversation.
"Most bands don't truly understand music, but you do!" Said Metal with a giddy tone. "You play with passion! Each note is something unique! You want to transmit happiness, passion and every single emotion on you. The others are just in it for the fame and the fortune."
"You are gravely mistaken. I play my cello because I need to get paid to continue living." She shot.
"I don't believe it. Not for one bit. No one trains with Bass Strings and says they do it out of need. I know you play in the Grand Galloping Gala every year. Money isn't the ultimate reason. You like playing your instrument." He said, his eyes full of hope.
"How do you know that I was instructed by..."
"Bass Strings? My dad was a Roadie for him back in the old days, before they both settled down. My old man would tell me about Bass and his many shows across the country. And he still kept in touch. So I dreamed of one day following in my dad's footsteps, and he once mentioned of an apprentice. So when I met you and saw the pendant, I knew where I had to go."
"And what if I say no?"
"Then I'll escort you all the way to the train station, where you will go in whatever direction you wish. I won't beg and I won't look back. It doesn't matter what you choose. I will respect your decision either way."
Octavia was left speechless. She had no idea of what to do next, and with this event, she was going to need to get out of the city as soon as possible.
Octavia was sitting in the first class coach in the train to Manehattan. It usually took two days of travel, so she was going to have to deal with sleeping in a moving vehicle. Not something she was looking forward to.
Metal was drinking a mug of coffee. He had somehow managed to carry her across Canterlot, help her pack everything, and carry several suitcases weighing several pounds and still be able to avoid breaking a sweat.
He put his mug in the table that separated the, and went for his jacket. He pulled out a chrome cellphone and began dialing some numbers.
"Hey Black, how's it going? Really? Awesome! Hey I need a solid for old time's sake. I quit my job in Canterlot and I brought a friend who can play the cello better than that snob you have at your dive." He looked at Octavia and signaled her to remain silent. "Don't believe me? Then I'll bet you a barrel at Tapper's that I'm right! Also we need a place to crash. Don't worry, it's just for a few days. I promise once we get working we'll be off your hair. Really? Thanks buddy, I owe you one! Sayonara." He said as he hung up.
"What was that about?" Asked Octavia before sneezing again.
"That was about getting us settled and getting you a job." He smiled as he handed her a tissue. "The sooner we can get your career started in Manehattan, the better." He said as he got up from his seat. "You might want to get some rest now, it won't be an easy trip and we've been awake for a whole day now."
The cellist looked at him and shrugged. "I'm not sleepy."
"Those eyelids say otherwise."
"I not sleepy." She answered before unleashing another sneeze.
"That's what all rock stars say. Don't worry, I got you covered." He placed Marcy in the overhead compartment and went for a nylon guitar case. Metal hoisted her on his right shoulder and grabbed his case with his other hand.
He crossed two cars before he got to the bunk car. He dropped Octavia in one of the various top bunks and looked for a seat. He took out an acoustic guitar and began playing a soft melody.
"I will not fall asleep you know?" She said with a yawn. No matter how much she struggled she felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier until she succumbed to the sleep.
"Nothing soothes the heart better than a guitar." Said the roadie as he sheathed his guitar.
The medley was taught by his father, who used it to lull him into sleep whenever he would get restless. By using the soft tune he could empower the strings with mana so that the magic could induce sleep.
.oOo.
Metal spent the next few hours playing with Marcy, tuning her and sharpening the edges.
He imagined that this was going to be a long trip, and he had little to do. Sooner or later he was going to run out of chores, so he had to find something else to do.
Some hours later he was asking the attendants for directions for the local bar, every train had them. He was surprised when he crossed five cars, the bar was full of people. And this was three cars long.
After ordering a beer he only found one place left. It was in front of a passed out woman with blue electric hair and a white T-shirt. A pair of thick, oval, black-framed, purple-tinted glasses were laid in front of her, next to a pair of large headphones and an empty glass. He noticed that her face was buried in her plate, which smelled like a burger.
He neared her, hoping to remove her plate before she suffocated or something else.
To his surprise the woman bolted upright as soon as he touched her plate. She began looking around her, her magenta eyes scanning her environment.
"Hey man." She said with a cool voice. "How long was I out? And why do I have ketchup in my face?" She tasted some of it, then she looked down. "Oh, of course."
"Are you all right?" Asked Metal with concern.
"What? Yeah of course! Why wouldn't I be?"
"Cuz I just found you passed out with your face stuck in a..."
"Have you seen a tall, green haired guy? With clothes that look like rags?" She said without any regard for her situation.
"Can't say I have, just got here, and this is the only available table."
"Damn that bastard! He promised he would come back! He probably spiked my drink. No way I would pass out with just one beer!" She started snorting, as if she were a mad bull.
"Calm down, I'm sure you were just bored, when was he supposed to meet you?"
"At two o'clock."
"It's five past five."
"Asshole." She answered.
"Excuse me?" He asked.
"Not you, I'm talking about my date, Green Hornet. Bastard probably left me as soon as he had the chance. I'm too big for him."
"You sure you only had one glass?"
And before she could answer she fell down again, this time the left side of her face taking the full blow on the bun.
The bartender came by, and with a grin said. "You in charge of her?"
"Not really, I just wanted to enjoy my drink and this was the only place available." Responded Metal with a shrug.
"That girl drank down at least two kegs of draft beer, she has been sleeping for three hours now. I saw her come in with that guy she mentioned. The guy payed the bill in advance, just left her here."
"Don't it seem odd?" Asked Metal, his mind thinking of an explanation.
"What? She passing out? Not really. One time a guy slept for the entire trip, had to wake him up with a bucket of cold water. Heh, that was hilarious."
"I meant that some stranger buys two kegs of beer and leaves. Shouldn't he have taken her away?"
"He said he would be back later, but so far he hasn't returned, probably never will. It tends to happen."
"Which part?"
"The drinks. Most men wanting a quick love do this, although I've never had this peculiar scenario happen. They usually see this as their investment, so they rarely let this happen."
"Then I better get this girl to bed, otherwise she will get herself into trouble. Is there anything she still owes?"
"Nah, she paid in advance. Probably knew what was going to happen."
With a grunt Metal started moving her out of her seat. He could feel her heart, so at least he knew she was still alive. She was lighter than Octavia, probably a kilo or two.
He set her on his shoulders and started working his way through the train. He walked at a steady pace, hoping that she wouldn't hurl in front of the innocent passengers.
To his luck, she didn't. But he noticed as he set her on his bunk that if he wanted sleep he would need to go for the couch. He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote down instructions for her and pasted it on her bunk.
As he returned to the bar he saw a red haired man in a blue overcoat right where the woman was sitting before. He ordered another drink and sat down in front of this mysterious man.
"Ye got a problem lad?" He asked in a rough voice.
"I just want to talk to a fellow passenger. Unless you don't want to. Its just that there are no more seats anywhere." Answered Metal as peacefully as possible.
The ginger looked around. "Aye, tha's a lot of people. What's yer name lad?"
"Metal Riffs, and now what is yours?"
"M'name is Iron Fist." He said as he extended a gloved hand.
Metal met his hand. The leather was cold, but very comfortable. "A pleasure to meet you Iron. What's with the coat?"
"Ye live in Canterlot lad?"
"Yeah, I'm moving to Manehattan."
"No wonder. I'm a Commissioner, probably heard of us."
"The shady cops? Yeah, I've heard of them. Didn't actually know they existed. I thought they were just an urban legend."
"Oh, we're real all right. And we're a pain in any law enforcement's arse." Said the man with a chuckle.
"I like your accent, where are you from?"
"Hollow Shades, but me mum comes from Canterlonia, a country north of Great Bridle."
"Really? Did you ever go to Trottingham, I had a friend who moved there."
"Nah, I haven't been there, in fact, it's been years since I've set foot in the Great Bridle. Better off without the sodding bastards." His last sentence was said behind a glass of beer.
"So, how's The Big Apple?"
"Horrible. The place is flooded with bloody migrants and refugees. Mark my words Metal, something big is happening in Griffon Territory. Sumthin' so big that's getting here to Equestria."
"What makes you say that?"
"Do you have friends in Manehattan?"
"Yeah, his name is Black Heart. You probably have heard of him."
"No shit! Bloody Black is your friend? Figures, that guy's got more friends than bitches. Good thing you got a job with him, cuz there are no jobs anywhere else. Not since those damned immigrants started working at half the price. Hell, I'm surprised I'm still employed!"
"Why are you telling me this? Do you want to scare me out of the city?" Said the roadie as he took a sip on his draft beer.
"Wha? No, hell no. I just got a good feelin' 'bout you is all. Not your average day when you meet a Mage with an attitude. I heard what you did for that lass, Vinyl Scratch. Rather bold of you to defy Jade and his girls."
Metal couldn't believe his ears. Jade was known as the Ladies Man. The only guy to sleep with anyone he wanted. He was the younger brother of Pearl Lance, but unlike his sinister brother he was more of a spoiled brat.
"Dammit, I fled Canterlot to get rid of those assholes."
"Wait a bloody second..." Said the Commisisoner as he scanned the roadie in front of him. "Yer the Metal Riffs ain't ya? The one that humiliated the Lionsguard by pinning their armor to the floor an' beatin' them up?" He chuckled.
"You've heard about me?"
"Fuck yeah! The prick placed a bounty of fifty thousand bounty on yer head, an' twenty fer yer fiery lass alive. He's never had to fight fer a woman this hard. She did a number on him an' he won't rest till he has her as his slave. But, what the hell possessed you ta come to Manehattan?"
Metal began to worry. "Why do you say that?"
"The Precious family practically owns it! They've got all businesses under his control, all ports, they even own the mayor and the future candidate."
Metal became petrified with fear. Instead of producing a safe heaven he had brought Octavia over to the Devil's den. "But what about the Mare of the South? I'm sure she can help us! She hates nobility."
Iron laughed. "I'm sorry, but it's so cute. Ye actually believe that she can help ya? Don't ya read newspapers in Canterlot?"
"Yeah, I know about your intervention, but I assumed she still had some sort of power left."
"And ya planned t'ask fer her help? Lad, that woman would never help ya anyways." Said Iron with a laugh.
"So what now? I can't let Octavia know I've brought her to the wrong place!"
"Don't worry, I know Black Heart, he's a good lad an' his private security force will be enough to hide ya. I'm even willing ta protect ya, but under one condition." Said Iron as he leaned forward
"And what would that be?" Metal said as he approached
"I need you both to testify against the Precious Family, so that we can take the down once and for all." Whispered the ginger. "It's 'bout time someone put a stop to their mischief."
Metal Riffs was hearing, he wasn't really sure what he was hearing. His ears said that a Commissioner, a man sworn to protect Equestria, had just asked him to stand as a witness against a noble family. The Nobles were always considered to have immunity in every sense of the law. Apparently he was wrong.
"I know it's a lot ta ask, but I need ya. The Lions have been gettin' too strong but we don't have a bloody shred of evidence!" Insisted the officer. "They seem to know how ta hide evidence leadin' ta them."
"I thought nobles were immune to everything!" Answered Metal.
"They are. Bastards have been smart enough not ta leave a trace, but the Princess is fed up. She knows they're bad apples but cannie get the bloody evidence. Tha's why ah need ya. With two witnesses we can start a formal investigation and maybe we can take 'em down fer good."
"Maybe? You lack the confidence to guarantee that you will succeed?"
Iron's right hand met his face with a loud smack. "Have ya got any idea how this shit works lad?"
"Not..."
"Of course ye bloody can't! Yer from Pamperlot!" Raged on Fist. "Ya all think its like yer novels where the hero cries wolf an' everyone believes 'im. But it's just bloody back room politics! Ye can't expect justice ta be swift when the nobles have their grip tighter than a noose around a criminal's neck."
"But can't you speed it up a little? You Commissioner should have some sort of connections!"
"We do, 'xcept they're useless against nobles 'cause they got bloody special protection. Ah need sumthin' more than superstition at take'em down. An' that means I need youer help. "
"I need to talk to Tavi about this. I would be more than happy, but I can't make decisions for her."
"Ah can understand that, maybe we should talk 'bout somthin' other than sadness." Said the commissioner with a smack of his lips. "Is it yer first time to the Big Apple?"
The bartender came with a pitcher and refilled both of their glasses.
"It's actually my second time. I helped Sapphire Shores in one of her early tours and landed there. But aside from the stadium I only went to Tapper's Bar with Black Heart. I really didn't have much time to do anything else." Answered the roadie with a sigh.
"What's yer job?"
"I'm a roadie, loud and proud." he said in an elated voice.
The commissioner just looked at him with confused eyes.
"That means I usually work with a musician. I make sure all their instruments are fine tuned and in prefect condition. I'm sometimes in charge of the scenery, that's in case the music is on tour."
"An' where did ya learn all this?" Asked the redhead intrigued.
"I've lived most of my life on the road with my dad, cuz my mom died at childbirth. It was somewhat hard, but my dad taught me everything. Every time we would go on tour he would teach me how to fix any instrument, from cellos to guitars and even synthesizers. I remember we worked first with Flank Sonata, after he stopped touring my dad joined Megapony." Metal sighed for a moment.
"Ya lived with Megapony?" Asked Iron with curiosity.
"Yeah, those were seven awesome years. After they retired my dad was hired by no other duo than Stupid Rocks." The roadie said with pride.
"Really? Ye actually worked with S.R? Did ya help in their Pony After All tour?"
"Hell yeah I did! I actually suggested they use that big booth." Metal went for his black leather wallet. "I even keep a picture of them." Pulled out a photo depicting two men in weird masks side to side with a child in a black shirt and a mullet. The picture was signed: to our genius Roadie, thanks for the booth. Stupid Rocks.
"Well Celestia damn it. Whoda thunk it?" Iron looked amazed. "An' what possessed ya t'live in Pamperlot?"
"My dad died a couple of months ago, so I thought I would try to settle down. I got a contract in a bar in the high end part of town and had the chance to meet Octavia. She was the head cellist in the Grand Galloping Gala so I had some interest. That and the fact that my dad worked with Bass Strings, Composer of a Thousand Medleys. So when I found out she had this unique amulet she would wear for certain shows I knew I had to stick with her."
"So ya joined the lass fer yer old man's sake?"
"Maybe, I just thought I should start like my old man. Even if I did a tour with Sapphire, I still want to start off like him. The guy was just awesome, and I want to be better than him."
"Take it from someone with experience, yer day's path ain't yers. Ah suggest ye try sumthin' else."
"I know, I know. A lot of people have been saying that, but I think I can't think of anything else to do with my life."
"Ye could try becomin' a Commissioner. We're always needin' good men an' women. If ye cannie get in, ye can become an Auxiliary. They're the ones that help us whenever we need a helpin' hand." Finished the redhead with a drink. Metal had been keeping track, and if he knew correctly this man had had eight pints of beer during the half an hour they had been talking. He hadn't even considered the amount this man had drunk before he arrived.
"So is being a Commissioner a full time job?"
"Most would think so, but it really is more of a title. Ye get an assignment an' ya do it. It's more akin ta freelance."
"So this Commissioner thing is like a title? Like being a duke and because of that you have to help with the taxes?"
"Ye can say that lad, but unlike those royal pains we work our arses off."
"So what's your real job? Or do you just sit around until the next issue comes up?"
"A do have a bloody job! A'm the head of the Spider Cops, finest group of police you'll ever see."
"Better than the Canterlot Royal Guard?"
"M'boy, those eejits cannie catch a criminal if he's faster than a snail. We're real police, catchin' bad guys even if it's the devil himself."
"So yeah, way better than the guard." Metal soon realized that he had spent at least eight hours away from Octavia, who was sleeping below a complete stranger. If she were to wake up and find out about Vinyl...
He decided to not talk about it. "Iron, if you want to meet Octavia I think now would be a good time. "
"An why's that?"
"Cuz I just left a cellist sleeping next to what I think is a D.J. she had never met. I'll need backup in case shit goes to hell"
Iron placed his gloved hand over the shoulder of his acquaintance. "Then a'll be glad ta help."