Vinyl Scratch is off her game, and goes looking for inspiration in unfamiliar music. What she finds is Octavia.
For the past year or so, Vinyl Scratch has been the star acquisition of the Onyx Pit nightclub, and every Friday, ponies from all over come to jump to her beats. Recently, though, she's been having trouble with creating anything, and her best friend Strobe Light worries about her. When she reveals that she's feeling uninspired, he tells her to listen to some music she's never heard anything like before, and so she finds herself at a concert. A single performer gives her the inspiration she desires, and possibly something more...
“Alright, everypony!” the emcee’s voice called out, and the Onyx Pit nightclub fell silent. They all knew what was coming, but they fell silent in anticipation anyway, saving their noise for what was to come. “You all know her, so show me your love... for DJ PON-3!” It was pronounced ‘pony’, but everypony knew that the 3 was there. It was a trademark, like her lightning-bolt sunglasses.
The crowd cheered loudly when the spotlight came on, capturing her behind the imposingly large sound system. “Good evening, Canterlot!” DJ PON-3 shouted. “Tonight, I’m sure you’re all aware, is a special occasion. The first anniversary of the coronation of Princess Twilight Sparkle!” The crowd cheered, but quickly stopped when she raised a hoof. “Without her contributions to Equestria, we wouldn’t still be here today. So in her name, let’s party like there’s no tomorrow!”
The roar of the crowd was deafening, and some of its members found it difficult to hear the first song coming on, but its rapid pace and hard beats quickly took over the crowd as they jumped up and down under the swinging and flashing lights. Those weren’t under the DJ’s control, but the technician running the lights was good at his job, quickly reacting to any record scratches or sudden changes. When the track switched over, hardly anypony would have caught the transition, but he was able to adjust the brightness of the lights as the music slowed down a little.
Three and a half hours of music followed, and the manic grin on DJ PON-3’s face never faltered once throughout the performance. Every regular in the Onyx Pit knew she was good, but there was always a new face or two who seemed surprised at just how good she was. She liked seeing their faces in the crowd, watching them try to catch the transitions or any other errors. The party continued until the absolute tick of midnight, when the music finally reached a final climax and the crowd cheered once again, if they weren’t panting from exhaustion.
“Alright, everypony, Friday’s over once again!” DJ PON-3 shouted. “It’s time for everypony to go home and get some rest. The weekend’s just beginning, so don’t burn yourselves out on me! Peace out, Canterlot!” The sign-off had been hers for a while, and it seemed like nopony would ever get tired of it. She stepped back from the deck, which was owned by the club, and left through a back entrance reserved for the performers.
Strobe Light, the technician, was there to meet her as always. He lived with her, though he had a steady marefriend living in another part of the city. They’d been friends since she first signed a long-term contract at the Onyx Pit. Nopony else could keep up with her, and the light shows weren’t up to the music until he’d arrived out of nowhere. Despite being a Pegasus and not a Unicorn, he was better than anypony else at controlling the lights and following the beats, and they had no choice but to hire him when she pointed out his ability. He’d quickly befriended the mare responsible for his placement, and they’d shared their rent since.
“Hey,” Strobe said as she came out the door, sliding slightly as the adrenaline wore off. He put a wing around her, helping her stay standing. “Are you feeling okay? You missed a few transitions tonight. I don’t think anyone noticed but me, but...”
“Probably because you’re so good with the lights,” she replied. “I can’t thank you enough for your work, y’know. I noticed missing the transitions too, but you kept going like nothing had happened, and the lights are just as important as the music for keeping the crowd electric.”
Strobe shook his head. “That wasn’t the point. The point is, is there anything you want to tell me, about why you might have been a little off your groove tonight?” She shook her head, leaning harder against him and yawning loudly. “Alright, I get it, I’ll get you home.” He led her through the streets, to all the world just a pair of ponies, perhaps brother and sister, walking down the street. The magenta sunglasses were DJ PON-3’s trademark, but few ponies knew the pony behind them: Vinyl Scratch.
As soon as Vinyl had crossed through the door into her apartment, she crashed on the couch, like every other Friday night, or Saturday morning, rather. She hadn’t ever bothered buying a bed even after Strobe had moved in with her. He didn’t mind; he never slept anyway. Though there were plenty of other places he could be on a Saturday morning, he spent them watching over his best friend, making sure nothing happened to her until she woke up.
It usually wasn’t until early afternoon that it happened, but that Saturday, she woke up at eleven o’clock. Strobe noticed, but didn’t say anything about it. Once she was up, he left her to go spend his weekends elsewhere. Vinyl spent the Saturday cooped up in her apartment, recovering from the previous night’s party. She opened herself up for parties and social events on Sunday, to get some extra money on the side, but there weren’t any available that Sunday, so she spent most of it at home. She didn’t feel like going out, but couldn’t have explained why.
From Monday to Wednesday, Strobe was out working at the Onyx Pit, running the light shows for the other musicians who performed there. Vinyl spent the time working on records. Part of her talent was for taking vinyls with existing music and changing their sound, speeding them up or slowing them down to fit her mix and adding artificial sounds. Sometimes she even composed her own original beats, scoring them directly onto the records and letting the non-existent beats fill her head and putting them directly onto the records.
In all of Monday and Tuesday, though, she couldn’t pick up a single record. Nothing got done, and she just sat in her apartment, staring out the window and blanking out. She barely even noticed when Strobe got home until he shouted “Vinyl!” right in her ear. She practically flew through the ceiling, scrambling away until she realised who it was. “What are you doing?” he asked more gently, trying not to worry her more than he had.
“Nothing...” she said, like he was accusing her.
In a way, he was. “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong, Vinyl? You haven’t been yourself lately. You’ve been missing transitions, you haven’t managed to make anything new this week...” She shook her head, unable to say anything. “C’mon, we promised not to keep secrets from each other.” As he said it, he covered himself in green flames, returning to his ‘naked’ form as a changeling.
Vinyl sighed; he’d used it a number of times on her. She’d insisted that they not keep secrets from each other, and as part of it, he’d shown her his true nature. He kept doing it every time he felt that she was being cagey with him, and it never failed. “I’m just not feeling it,” she said, looking down at the floor. “I haven’t been inspired all week... Am I losing my touch?”
Strobe thought about it for a few minutes. “Maybe...” he started, then stopped, trying to find the right words. “Maybe you can take inspiration from others’ music.”
“I’ve listened to a few songs at home,” she told him, “but I’m still not feeling anything.”
“Then find something that you’ve never listened to before. Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He turned back into the Pegasus that she knew, and put a hoof around her shoulder. “There’s a major event at the Royal Concert Hall on Thursday. I think you should go to that. Maybe it’ll give you some ideas, or it’ll just help you know your own style better. I always try pulling a disguise other than Strobe and Blue Harvest when I’m having trouble holding these.”
“How am I even going to get in there? I don’t have any money, and I don’t know anypony...”
“I know a few ponies that I can get it put on their tab and probably get away with it. Leave everything to me.”
“And all the other ponies there... Will they...?”
“You could teach me about blending into a crowd. You’re a wallflower, a background pony. I’m sure that you won’t attract any undue attention.” He picked up her glasses in one hoof. “Maybe you need to get away from these for a while...” he placed a hoof on her chest, “...and get back in touch with this.”
Vinyl didn’t say anything, only nodding after a few minutes. “I’ll be back soon,” Strobe told her as he left the apartment. Something new... Is that really what I need? ~ Vinyl’s Wednesday passed as uneventfully as the past two days had. Strobe had given her the ticket in the morning and told her not to lose it. He didn’t say whose money he’d stolen to pay for it, and she preferred it that way. Mostly, she was wondering about the concert. What kind of music would it be that she’d never heard anything like before?
On Thursday, she spent the time shopping, like she normally did. Thursday was always Vinyl’s day, when she wouldn’t have to be DJ PON-3 at all. She used it to buy groceries, go to parks and relax, and just about anything else that she’d rather not be followed by adoring fans to. Perhaps that was why Strobe had chosen to get her a concert ticket for Thursday; they were playing on multiple days, but today was the day where her habit would allow it. As much as he talked about trying something new, he didn’t want to push her too hard, she thought.
The concert hall was far larger than the Onyx Pit, and not just because most of the Pit was built underground. The building seemed almost as big as the palace, and Vinyl felt immediately self-conscious as she saw all the other ponies entering it. She’d tried to comb her hair, but to no avail, and she didn’t have anything to wear to the occasion. She caught a few sideways glances as she stepped inside, but the stallion in the ticket booth was nothing but praising, telling her it was an honour to have her around.
She didn’t quite get it until he mentioned Prince Blueblood. She’d met the stallion before and immediately took a dislike to him, as most ponies did. And Strobe gets on my case about keeping secrets, she thought as she took the ticket stub and walked into the auditorium. She sat there for a few minutes, listening to the conversations blending into one another, creating a white noise. Now and then she picked out a few words, but none of them held any meaning to her out of context. Suddenly, everypony fell quiet, and the lights went dim.
A single spotlight fell upon an elderly Earth Pony wearing a bowtie. He bowed to the audience and turned to the orchestra, who were barely visible from the light coming off the spotlight. Slowly, each member began to play their instruments all at once, and Vinyl wondered what they were doing. The notes were mostly the same, only slowly coming together into a single note, led by what she thought was the violin. The organised chaos appealed to her, and she applauded as the music quietened to nothing.
The other ponies applauded as well, masking her own appreciation, though she wondered if it was actually for the performance she’d just seen or in anticipation of what was to come, like at her own shows at the Pit. The pony standing in front of the others bowed again, then pointed a baton at a grey mare with a large stringed instrument. The spotlight fell on her, followed by all eyes in the crowd.
Raising a bow to the strings, she began to play a melody. The notes filled the air, as though they were coming from everywhere at once. Vinyl wondered why she kept pausing every so often, holding a note longer than expected. She counted the beats in her head, following the rhythm more than the melody. But the song was more than just rhythm, she realised. The way the mare was moving her hooves back and forth, up and down along the instrument were creating an equally complex melody to accompany her internal rhythm, and the effect was almost entirely unlike anything Vinyl had ever heard before.
As the song reached a final note, the crowd applauded politely again, and the performer bowed as the light spread away from her and to the entire orchestra. The other ponies were starting to look forward, or at the leader. As the grey mare looked into the crowd, she and Vinyl made eye contact for just a moment. Vinyl didn’t know what she saw in that instant, but something clicked in her head, and she shot up in her seat. The pony behind her murmured something about quieting down, and when she’d turned back, the mare was focused solely on her instrument again.
The orchestra began to play another song, but throughout the performance, Vinyl’s eyes were fixed solely on the grey mare. When she stopped playing for a moment, allowing the other instruments to come in, she looked at the stallion leading them. He was giving them the beats, keeping them all in time, speeding up and slowing down in a way that would be anathema to a dancer.
Each time, after some observation of a movement in the piece, her eyes returned to the mare, watching her hooves moving back and forth again. Most of the other ponies had little sheets of paper in front of them, but that one didn’t. She just played her instrument on her own, eyes fixed upon the leader. Playing without any assistance, focused solely on her music... It inspired Vinyl, and she almost left the performance then and there.
The music continued into the night for about two hours, and everypony applauded the loudest when the leader took a final bow and the orchestra stood up in acknowledgement. Vinyl filed out with the others, wondering what she’d just seen. “Excuse me, sir?” she asked an usher. “Who was that grey mare with the really big instrument, on the leader’s right?”
“The conductor’s right, you mean? With the cello?” Vinyl nodded assent, not knowing either term. “Wow, you don’t get out much, do you? That’s Octavia, only the most famous cellist in Equestria. There’s a reason she got a solo where nopony else did, y’know, she’s just that good. Probably the best musician I’ve ever heard...” She nodded again. Octavia... I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about you that I can’t take my eyes off, she thought to herself as she left. ~ As the crowd left, Prince Blueblood watched them go. He’d been informed that he’d bought a ticket to the orchestra and charged it to his account, but he had little interest in the musical arts; certainly not enough to send somepony he’d never even met to a concert. He couldn’t make out which pony would have been stupid enough to do it, but then his eyes fell upon somepony who didn’t look like the type to go to a concert. Her wild mane and lack of any clothing marked her out, and he made a note of her. A pony out of place, perhaps using his money behind his back... In the morning, he’d hire a private investigator to look into her. Nopony stole his money and got away with it.
Strobe was waiting when Vinyl came through the door at about nine o’clock. “How’d it go?” he asked. “You look pretty buzzed. Didn’t think you’d take to classical.” He laughed, a slight distortion coming through until he coughed loudly and caught himself. “Maybe I should’ve gone with you, now that I think of it.”
“Actually...” Vinyl looked at the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “Do you know of an Earth Pony called Octavia?” He changed into the mare from the concert. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“What, did you speak to her?” Strobe/Octavia asked, in a mare’s voice that Vinyl assumed belonged to the cellist. “Nah, she wouldn’t’ve. Nopony gets to talk to the orchestra afterwards unless they’re press or actual patrons. Even if you were sent by Prince Blueblood,” he changed into the same Unicorn, “you wouldn’t have been allowed backstage.”
“So it’s just like at the Pit?”
‘Blueblood’ turned back into Strobe again. “Pretty much, only it’s a higher-class place. And if you’re interested in seeing her again, you’re setting your sights a little high. She’s a professional, and she takes her art very seriously. You’d just be a distraction.”
Vinyl thought back to how they’d made eye contact at the concert, but Strobe was probably right, and it was probably nothing more than a coincidence. She could’ve done it with anypony, and surely there were others at the concert not really known as patrons that she could’ve rested on. But the incident kept nagging at her even as she tried to sleep.
The hall was dark, and perhaps made of darkness, stretching off into infinity as far as she could see. Despite no clear light sources, she could make out her own body as though she were standing under the full overhead sunlight of high noon. A single note sounded from somewhere, and she turned around to face it, disoriented by the invisible ground.
A single note sounded from far away, and she turned to where she thought it was coming from. She ran towards it, but no matter how hard she ran, it never seemed to get any louder. It was coming from everywhere, at the same low volume, never changing. Thinking she saw something, she squinted into the darkness, but no clarity came from it.
Turning around, she saw herself, wearing the magenta sunglasses. As she took them off, she saw that her eyes were a different colour, a green that was slowly turning black...
Vinyl slowly opened her eyes, hearing the sound of water boiling. Strobe waved slowly to her. “Morning, sunshine,” he said as he turned back to the kitchen bench. “I got some coffee on the boil. You look like you need it. What’cha dream about?” Vinyl paused. Had she dreamed? She shook her head slowly. “Don’t remember? Happens. Still, at least you get dreams. Even with Chrysalis gone, some things just never change...” He sighed wistfully.
“Well, what about the coffee?” Vinyl asked, smiling wryly.
“I don’t have to eat, I just like to,” Strobe shot back, laughing. “C’mon, drink up. You look like you need it pretty bad.” He poured out two mugs, downing his own in one shot.
“You ever considered giving yourself a coffee Cutie Mark?” Vinyl asked as she picked up the mug with her magic and took a sip. “You make it just as good as Joe.”
He just laughed and turned into Joe, saying, “I could never make it that good if I had to make two hundred mugs a day.” Turning back into Strobe, he added, “Besides, isn’t it a thing among you ponies to have skills besides your Cutie Mark? You can’t get by doing just one thing all your life.”
“You’d think so, having to do so many different things to justify all the Marks you can pull out. But I guess,” she took another drag of coffee, “it’s better to be decent at a few things, just not to the extent of losing sight of your own talents.” Strobe raised an eyebrow at her, and she added, “And isn’t that pretty much what you had me do last night?”
“Far as I can see, your Cutie Mark is music. You seemed too focused on just one part of it.”
“And what would you know about that?”
“I know you’re looking a lot better today than you have in ages, and last night you were pretty chipper too. Even if you don’t want to admit it now, it was good for you.”
“Alright, alright, you can stop rubbing it in now.” Vinyl finished the rest of her coffee and picked up her sunglasses. “What time is it now?”
“Still plenty of time before the club even opens. You can relax.” Strobe poured himself another cup of coffee and sculled it again. “But you know I’m right.” Vinyl just rolled her eyes and put the sunglasses on. ~ When Vinyl arrived at the club at eight o’clock, she was surprised to find another DJ there, an Earth Pony who was at least getting some ponies jumping on the dance floor. He was playing a song that she’d used a few weeks ago, and for a while she let the conversations and the music create a background noise like it had at the concert. She took a look onto the dance floor and saw everypony back away from a single cream-coloured Pegasus who was showing off some impressive dance steps, showboating by keeping his wings tied to his body with a scarf.
She couldn’t quite make out his Cutie Mark, but the steps were impressive. She didn’t even know that anypony could cross their legs into one another like he was. Making a mental note of him, she turned towards the bar, seeing a mare chatting with the barkeep. Vinyl laughed and sighed to herself, knowing that the mare was never going to get anywhere; better-looking mares than her had tried to seduce him. She didn’t know if he was married or just didn’t care, but that wasn’t important to her anymore.
A few ponies were sitting at tables or dancing in smaller groups. Overall, she figured that the crowd wasn’t as big as last night, but that tended to change at about quarter past. She knew a lot of ponies only came for her shows, and the thought gave her no small degree of pride. To pass the time, she decided to sit at the bar. She was about to ask ‘surprise me’ when she caught a missed transition in the other DJ’s work, and changed the order to water. She was already having enough trouble; being drunk would leave her on the amateur’s level.
Gradually, the time passed, and the hooves on the dance floor stopped bumping up and down. The DJ said his goodbyes and stepped off the stage, and Vinyl took that as her cue. She headed backstage and put on her sunglasses, stopping the Earth Pony as he came in. “Your tracks are good,” she told him, “but your transitions need work. You’re skipping a lot of beats, and that can kill your whole night. Keep at it, though.” She grinned maniacally, and the Earth Pony became tongue-tied, unable to say anything until he thought she was out of earshot. It was something about being surprised that THE DJ PON-3 would give him advice, but she couldn’t be sure and she didn’t really care.
It was showtime once again.
She stepped out onto the stage as the emcee introduced her, and she took her position behind the stack of equipment. It belonged to the Onyx Pit, and it was probably better than the stuff she owned at home and took to parties. “Good evening, Canterlot!” she shouted, as she had last Friday night. “You all came here for one reason: you want the ultimate party, with the ultimate disc jockey. And now...” As her eyes crossed the crowd, which as she expected had only gotten larger, she stopped, her sentence trailing off as well.
Isn’t that Octavia? What’s she doing in a place like this?
When the grey mare disappeared into the background, she shook her head and cleared her throat. “And now,” she repeated, “DJ PON-3 delivers on your dreams! Let’s get the party started!” The cheer of the crowd rose up, and she switched on her first song of the evening. Though it was fast, the beats weren’t as heavy as some of her songs were, and she caught herself listening to the notes underneath.
She was reminded of Octavia’s solo, and inspired by it, she started to slow the song down with just the drum beat before suddenly starting up again. This created an electric reaction in the crowd, and she smiled to herself as the song ended and the next came on.
Like a bolt from the blue, there was Octavia again. She tried to look away, only keeping an eye on the Earth Pony from her peripherals, hoping that the sunglasses would keep anypony from noticing. Her attention was drawn back to the dance floor by a group of four ponies dressed in white who had taken centre stage and were synchronised in a complex dance to the song.
As she scratched the record twice for the sound effect, she nodded at the group, and immediately Strobe had a light trained on them. It switched colours perfectly to the beat, making the ponies in white seem to change colours as they danced. All eyes in the club were upon them, and that gave Vinyl a chance to look for Octavia again.
She hadn’t been quite right. There was one pair of eyes that weren’t on the ponies in the middle. They were Octavia’s, and they were trained upon her. She noticed the song seemingly coming to an end and turned back to the turntable, turning up a third song.
The dance floor filled out with ponies of all kinds again, and Strobe turned his lights back to the DJ. She watched for the point as the note rose, waiting for the drop. As soon as it came, with the spoken word ‘doomsday’, the lights on the dance floor began to flicker on and off, and the sounds of hooves jumping up and down filled the air.
Through the strobe lights, she couldn’t see any more creative moves, but then again she supposed that the ponies with them wouldn’t be able to do it on what was practically a mosh pit. Suddenly, the song fell back into a more sedate place, and she turned down all the backing tracks besides the straight melody, only turning them back up slowly. Strobe was perfect as always, switching off the strobe until the second drop. The beat had sped up, and instead of a strobe light, he was rapidly changing the colours again, creating a similar effect.
The crowd was starting to get more creative at that point, until the song was nearly over. Catching the cues, DJ PON-3 turned to the second turntable, turning up the volume on another track. This one sounded a lot more gritty, though it clearly had more of a melody to it. And speaking of melodies, there was Octavia again, now at the bar. This time, she wasn’t looking at Vinyl, and she sighed in relief that the awkward eye contact wouldn’t continue. Before Octavia could turn around, she turned back to the dance floor.
The song continued for a second loop, and a couple of ponies took the dance floor again, mocking a martial arts fight with dance moves. Their front and back hooves extended into the air, their strikes and dodges clearly just dance steps, but in a new style. The whole crowd cheered for them as one managed to throw his body into an entire aerial spin, all four legs extended outwards. He shouted something that she didn’t recognise, but sounded kind of like a request for pound cake.
Everypony was in high spirits, and it stayed that way for the rest of the evening. Vinyl didn’t see Octavia again, but she kept looking up from the turntables at every opportunity, seeing if she was still around. Eventually, midnight came and it seemed like the crowd had only gotten larger, with hardly any space between everypony. “Thank you all for coming!” DJ PON-3 shouted. “You’ve all been a wonderful audience. But the weekend’s just getting started, so keep your spirits up! Thank you, and good night, Canterlot!” The roar of the crowd was deafening, and she stayed drinking in the admiration until the crowd started turning away to leave.
She met Strobe at the back door as always. “Why’d you keep looking up?” he asked. “I saw you looking up from the discs a bunch of times. Was there anything in particular going on out there?”
“Octavia... I think she was here,” Vinyl said as she magically lifted her glasses off. “I know, a classy mare like her wouldn’t be caught dead in this part of Canterlot, I thought so too. But...” She trailed off as she saw the same mare standing right in front of her.
“Thought I’d catch up to you here,” she said, smiling. “Performers’ entrance, just like every other venue I’ve played at. Mind you, tonight was definitely a new experience for me. The ambience, the heavy beats in the music... and I take it that I have you to thank for it.” Vinyl took a shocked step back. “A white Unicorn with an electric blue mane... I’d seen posters of you, but in the flesh, it’s really quite different. You’re rather less talkative, for starters.”
That just made Vinyl stammer even more. Strobe raised a wing, stepping in front of her protectively. “I don’t know what you’re doing here...” he started.
“The DJ here came to a concert of mine. I decided I’d return the favour. It was really quite something, you know. And,” she looked at Strobe’s flank, “I take it that you were part of it too. A duet of light and sound, keeping ponies moving for hours... It was certainly a unique experience, I’ll say that much.”
“Don’t make me call the bouncer over,” Strobe said threateningly. “By ‘here’, I meant the back door. Restricted access, don’t’cha know?”
Octavia just laughed, her alto voice not echoing off the brick walls. “Don’t get your feathers in a frizz. I just wanted to say thank you, for tonight and for last night. I’m leaving now.” She turned and walked off into the street, disappearing around a corner.
Vinyl turned to Strobe, silently asking, Did that just happen? “C’mon, let’s get you home,” he replied, putting a wing around her.
As they walked into the street together, Vinyl asked, “Do you want to buy some black lilies?” Strobe shook his head in response, and she turned away, looking pensive.
A Pegasus with a magnifying glass cutie mark watched them, making a mental note of what had happened as he followed them home. He was being paid to find out about the two of them, and he always did what he was paid for. Even if it seemed like a strange request, it came from a wealthy benefactor, and he would carry it out.
He didn’t know what to make of Octavia, since he hadn’t heard the conversation. She’d been there for about a minute, though, and the Pegasus had seemed protective of Vinyl throughout. Since they were going home together, they were clearly more than just colleagues. Maybe he wanted to let Octavia know that she was stepping on his marefriend. That seemed like a good place to start looking into the private affairs of Vinyl Scratch.
Strobe was whistling to himself, a song about a cowpony on the run that he couldn't remember the lyrics to, as Vinyl pulled herself into consciousness. She yawned loudly, and he turned his head towards her. “G’mornin’,” he chirped. “Sorry I haven’t got any coffee ready yet. I’ll get on that before Blue Harvest returns home for the weekend.”
He walked into the kitchen, though the open-plan apartment meant that it wasn’t really all that different, and he could still see Vinyl. The DJ seemed to be in pretty good shape, pulling herself together quickly. Then again, she never combed her hair (apparently she’d tried once—but only once), and on Saturdays she spent the whole day inside anyway. The coffee wasn’t even necessary given the circumstances, but it kept his mind off things.
That was definitely the Octavia at the club last night, for one. If she was a changeling, he’d have known, but she wasn’t even just a free changeling in a steady disguise like he was. Why she’d have come to follow Vinyl, he couldn’t figure out, and it worried him. He felt like an older brother to the DJ, though he’d never admit it, and if something was going on around her, he wanted to know.
Still, it seemed like Vinyl was just as confused as he was, so there was nothing for it but a cup of coffee and a day’s rest. He brought the two mugs and the pot of coffee out, pouring two mugs and downing his own in one go as usual. “Well, I’m off. Blue Harvest needs to close a deal today, and his beautiful marefriend shouldn’t be kept waiting.” He left the apartment locked, knowing that Vinyl could magically pick locks if anything happened that forced her to leave. Even if she was still exhausted, caffeine could easily be turned into mana if necessary.
Unfortunately, the caffeine didn’t work on him that way. As a changeling, he needed love, and the kind that Vinyl gave him as a semi-sibling relationship wouldn’t cut it.
Blue Harvest had been killed during the Royal Wedding incident, but the mare he was going out with at the time, Cross Stitch, never found his body. After about a month, Strobe had decided to step in, using the missing pony report to interpose himself in their relationship. He hadn’t quite gotten the personality right, and it seemed strange to the mare at first, but she was just so happy to have Bluey back that she still hadn’t figured it out. Since he wasn’t directing most of his feed to the Queen, he could just take a little bit of her love and manage on it without hurting her, either.
The occupation he’d taken over was that of a cartographer, royally commissioned under Blueblood. Though he didn’t actually make many maps anymore, he was able to fit in well enough to meet the Prince a few times. He didn’t need that much money, since he lived with Vinyl and never ate food, so he was able to support Stitch with most of it. She appreciated the help, and that gave him even more love to feed on. He started whistling ‘Midnight Rider’ again as he walked, unaware of the Pegasus that was following him.
Hemlock had been somewhat hard done by as a colt, mostly because his parents had heard the word somewhere without bothering to look up what it meant. With that disadvantage, he had to make a name for himself as young as possible, and he’d made it accidentally.
While trying to burn ants with a magnifying glass one day, he’d found a scrap of cloth in the grass. There was a tag on it, and it led him back to a dressmaker. The mare who’d bought the dress had gone missing recently, and talking to her family had led him to her abusive coltfriend, who had been about to do... something to her. At the time, he hadn’t understood it entirely, but he got the attention of a passing Watch officer before anything bad happened to her. He’d earned a commendation from the Baltimare Watch for it, and his Cutie Mark.
Nowadays, despite his odd name, Hemlock was known as one of the best private investigators in the business, and that had gotten him the attention of somepony with bits to burn and a grudge of some sort against a Canterlot musician.
Getting the basics of DJ PON-3’s life had been easy enough; a few bits to the bouncer of the Onyx Pit had revealed her name as Vinyl Scratch. Tailing her from the back door had brought him to her apartment on Bay Street, which she shared with a Pegasus. He’d asked around a bit before sunrise, and learned that his name was Strobe Light, a technician who seemed pretty close to her. So far, this didn’t seem like anything in particular, but he was being paid to find out whatever he could.
He’d staked out the apartment since half past nine, wondering who would come in or out. Strobe had come out at about noon, whistling a song of some sort. As much as he wanted to see if the DJ had any other visitors, he thought that if she worked under a pseudonym, it would be unlikely. Instead, he’d decided to follow Strobe.
What a stallion like him was doing out at that time was a mystery, particularly if he’d left Vinyl alone. She’d seemed pretty out of it last night, having to be carried home. Why would Strobe just abandon her like that?
The mark turned a corner into Courter’s Way, and Hemlock had to hurry to catch up. Suddenly, he was gone, invisible in the bustling crowd even to his trained eye. He started to push through ponies, not caring how visible he was becoming, when he suddenly heard a pony whistling. It was the same song, as far as he could tell, but coming from a different pony entirely.
The new whistler was a blue Unicorn with a feather quill as a Cutie Mark. How two so different ponies could come to know the same song was a mystery to him, unless... He looked around again, but Strobe was definitely nowhere to be seen.
It was entirely possible that Vinyl Scratch was living with a changeling, though whether she knew or not was hard to say. He’d have to keep an eye on Strobe and the blue Unicorn, though. If they really were the same changeling, that would make an interesting case for his benefactor to study.
They continued down Courter’s Way into the Royal Surveyor’s Office, and that was where Hemlock had to stop. He didn’t have the clearance to get into the building and study the changeling any more. Sighing, he started heading back to the hotel room he was renting in Canterlot, to record his findings and get some coffee to keep himself going until night-time.
DJ PON-3, real name Vinyl Scratch. Lives at 142 Bay Street, apartment number six. Lives with and is possibly quite close to Pegasus named Strobe Light. Possible changeling; whether Vinyl Scratch knows is unknown. Keep an eye out for a blue Unicorn who works for the Surveyor’s, as he may be an alter ego of the same changeling.
He’d written the note on the way back to the hotel, planning to leave it at the front desk for his anonymous benefactor. As he looked around the lobby, he saw somepony he hadn’t been expecting there. “I like your scarf,” Octavia called out. “Where did you get it? I simply must get one of my own.”
Hemlock didn’t know how to reply for a while. He’d gotten it for his cute-ceañera, and honestly didn’t know if the shop was still in business, it had been so long. He suddenly felt self-conscious, not wanting to talk to the cellist. “Say, didn’t I see you at the Onyx Pit last night?”
He suddenly froze up before sprinting up the stairs to his room. On the back of the note, just before he fell into bed, he’d written:
Octavia knows too much.
Back in the lobby, Octavia was thinking about what she’d seen. The Pegasus with the scarf and the magnifying glass Cutie Mark had definitely been at the club last night. From where he’d gone, he was also staying at the hotel, like her. Until the month of the concert ended, she was supposed to stay in the hotel, rather than at her own Canterlot residence.
If she met Vinyl Scratch again, it’d be difficult to convince her to come back to a hotel room, even one as high-class as the Evening Star. But she couldn’t be seen staying at her own home, or she’d break the contract she’d signed. Maybe she should have read it more, but there was no going back now. She was no stranger to suffering for her art.
Slowly, she returned to her own room, still thinking about the stallion from before. She definitely knew him from somewhere before the Pit last night, but it escaped her. Well, surely they’d meet again, if they were staying in the same hotel. Things had a habit of working out that way in long-term stays in hotels, in her experience.
She’d asked around a bit as well, and apparently DJ PON-3 was open for commissions on Sundays. Did she do it for the art, or to make ends meet? There was no way to tell, unless she could talk to the mare a little bit more.
She had no idea where to start, though. How did one commission DJ PON-3, especially at such short notice? It must have been on one of the posters... As much as she didn’t want to be caught out in public by some paparazzo or another, she’d have to go searching for one. ~ That evening, when Strobe returned home, Vinyl noticed that he still looked like Blue Harvest. “Oh, sorry,” he laughed when she pointed it out, quickly returning to his ‘normal’ form. “I don’t usually mess up like that. Still, I don’t think anyone saw me come in like that, so we should be fine. If they did, they’ll probably just assume you finally got a gentlecolt caller.”
Vinyl laughed out loud at the statement. “Me, with a gentlecolt caller? Everypony here knows that I’m a wallflower.” She shook her head slowly, then sobered up. “Seriously, though, you should probably go back to being the Unicorn. Don’t want anypony getting too suspicious.” Strobe nodded and turned back into Blue Harvest.
“Oh, yeah, and you’ve been commissioned this Sunday,” he added as he pulled out a letter from somewhere and gave it to her. “Pretty short notice, though. You gonna skip?”
Vinyl didn’t respond right away, looking at the note itself. “Equipment provided... and they’re promising to pay pretty well. Besides, I have a reputation to uphold. If somepony wants to hear me play, if they can pay, then I play. That’s the rule.”
“Try saying that five times fast,” Strobe muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, just a joke. So you’re going, then? What’s the venue?”
“Says here it’s a public park, and that I’ll know who’s commissioning me when I see them. I don’t know how they’ll bring their own equipment there, but...”
“Maybe someone wants to spice up a picnic and shelled out for you.”
“Maybe... but I get the feeling... This seems so strange, but...” Vinyl shook her head slowly. “No, I can handle myself. I’ll go. And don’t get any ideas about trying to follow me; I don’t need your help.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Strobe said out loud. Thanks for the idea, he thought. This whole thing just seems suspicious to me...
