"Swan Song - Octavia x Anon - Part 3"
By MLP-CYOA-Writer-Dude (https://pastebin.com/u/MLP-CYOA-Writer-Dude)

URL: https://pastebin.com/iwCAtjC2
Created on: Monday 19th of May 2014 07:55:47 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 25 of October 2020 10:53:39 AM UTC


>A night of small talk, big talk, éclairs, hot chocolate.
>That’s what you were sharing with the lovely Octavia Melody.
>Laughing and affection.
>Blushing and smiling.
>Her shimmering purple eyes resonating with your own.
>Octavia’s mood was slowly uplifted thanks to you.
>That’s what she wanted.
>Heck, you wanted that as well.

>Your posh griffin waiter comes back to your table, with a smile.
>”And how was everything, monsieur?”
>You give him a pat on the back.
“Fantastic so far. I think we could go for a bit more, though.”
>Octavia gives you a look of confusion.
>Your waiter laughs and puffs out his chest.
>”Qui, qui! I am glad that you and this fine Madame are enjoying yourselves.
“She is quite the fine Madame, no?”
>You raise your glass of water to her.
>She blushes and hides her face in her hooves.
>The griffin guffaws.
>”Haha! What can I get for you?”
>You order a few more éclairs and decide to get a few glasses of their finest wine, much to Octavia’s dissent.
>The griffin nods as he writes down the order.
>”Excellent. I will have that out shortly, monsieur.”
>Your waiter bows and heads back into the shoppe.

>Octavia rubs your hand with her hoof.
>”Anon! Please, I am not worth-”
>You put a finger up to her lips.
“Shh, shh. Listen. You’re worth it. Trust me.”
>She gives you a look of appreciation and annoyance.
>You give her a sly smile.
>Might as well go all out for her, no?

>”Well... if you insist, Anon.”
>You nod and smile at her.
“I do insist!”
>She rolls her eyes.
>”You never cease to be such a gentleman, do you?”
>She bats her eyes at you.
>Such a qt3.14.
>”Excuse me… I need to go to the ladies room for a moment.”
>You nod, sipping your water.
>She blows you a kiss as she excuses herself from the table.

>You sit back and observe your surroundings.
>The two of you hadn’t been there for terribly long.
>Though the night was still young.
>A number of ponies have come and gone.
>Many looking prim and clean.
>Others looking like serious hipsters.
>None of them as radiant as Octavia.

>Octavia….

>You could feel her pleasant disposition increasing as the night progresses.
>She was exuding happiness, her eyes full of warmth and promise.
>Highly in contrast to her mood from earlier.
>Just a few hours of your company has done this to her.
>Can you imagine any longer period of time?
>….
>You didn’t really have to return to Ponyville anytime soon….
>It’s not like you have much of a connection there.
>Work comes and goes there.
>Surely it would come and go here?
>What would be the harm in staying in Manehattan for a bit?
>At least until Octavia was back on her hooves.
>She was a strong mare; you know she’d bounce back in no time.

>A good idea, you thought.
>Though you already know that she would not be happy with your decision.
>Not because of the company you would give her.
>But because you want to stay to help her out.
>Octavia would undoubtedly feel like she’s inconveniencing you.
>No matter what you tell her.
>You sigh deeply as Octavia exits the shoppe, approaching your table with a smile.
>Might as well ask her how she feels about your idea.

>”I forgot how lovely their restrooms are!”
>She sits down, shaking her mane cutely.
>Your waiter returns with another platter of fresh éclairs and bottle of wine.
>”Ho ho! Another order of our fresh éclairs!”
>He puffs out his chest again lifting a bottle of expensive wine into the air.
>”And a bottle of our finest ‘Chateau du Cynge Élégant’.”
“Sounds wonderful!”
>Octavia groans.
>”Sounds… fancy.”

>He gently places the platter on your table and proceeds to fill two glasses with the choice beverage.
>”Enjoy. Let me know if I can do anything else for you two lovebirds. Ho ho!”
>You and Octavia blush furiously.
>He proudly bows and returns to his post.
>Octavia’s eyes widen as she looks at the bottle of wine.
>”Anon, this wine is quite exp-…”
>You raise your eyebrow at her.
>She laughs nervously.
>”…exquisite.”

>She takes her glass and swirls it around, the cranberry-colored liquid swishing about.
>You take your glass of wine and raise it to Octavia.
>She smiles and raises her as well.
>”To a wonderful evening.”
“To a wonderful mare.”
>You clink your glasses and drink as your merriness continues late into the night.

~

>After enjoying your fill of wine and sweets, you and Octavia return to her apartment.
>Your bag of bits much lighter than before.
>Worth it.
>Slightly buzzed, the two of you can’t help but giggle and cling to each other as you make the walk back.
>Ponies eyed you nervously, not that either of you cared.
>You were having a grand ol’ time with Octavia.
>There was no way you were going to stop letting her have fun with you.

>You reach the stoop, still laughing and carrying on.
>Octavia nearly stumbles, but you expertly catch her.
>She laughs and blushes.
>”Oh my! I’m glad my gentleman is here to rescue me.”
>She bats her eyes at you again.
>You smile and peck her forehead.
“Don’t be so… so silly!”
>You pick her up and carry her into her apartment.
>Octavia giggles and nuzzles you as you search for a light source.

>”Over there, Anon.”
>Only illuminated by the moon and stars, you see her flails her hooves towards the wall across the room.
>You walk over there slowly, being careful to not to hit anything.
>You search aimlessly, unable to find a switch of some sort.
“I don’t… I can’t see anything, Octavia.”
>She groans in response.
>”Here… turn around.”
>You follow her instruction, with your back to the wall.
>Octavia reaches over your shoulder searching for a switch on the wall.
>After a few moments of struggling, she manages to switch on a light.
>”Haha… got it!”

>The light turns on, and the apartment comes clearly into view.
>And you deeply wish that it hadn’t.
>Octavia rubs her cheek against yours.
>”I’m glad we are back….”
>You are unable to respond.
>She pulls away slightly, trying to get your attention.
>”Anon? Anon, dear?”
>She looks into your blank face.
>”What’s the matter, Anon?”
>You feel like turning the lights off and taking her from this place.
>You don’t want her to turn and see what you see.
>But you can’t.
>You put her down on the ground, letting her turn around.
>What’s left of your shared mood dissipates as Octavia’s eyes see what you’ve seen.

>Furniture broken, dishes strewn about, picture frames shattered.
>Your luggage was ripped open and your clothes scattered all over the floor.
>Her shelf of awards and honors broken beyond repair, plaques and frames damaged.
>You feel your head begin to pound.
>The sight of her ravaged apartment breaks your heart.
>Octavia doesn’t speak as she continues to take it all in, her face appearing devastated.
>The silence in the room only letting you hear your own heart beat in your chest.
>She slowly moves around and looks at her ruined domicile.
>”I… I….”
>She turns her head to the middle of her apartment.
>Your heart jumps as she falls to the ground.
“Octavia!”
>You rush to her side and hold her.
>She doesn’t move.
>You look into her face.
>Her eyes red and watery, her face exhibiting pure pain.
>A pain one has when they lose something dear to them.
>Something close to their heart.
>You look in the direction she was staring at.
>And in an instant you feel her pain.
>Chunks of polished wood and varying lengths of silver strings lay all over the floor.
>Octavia’s cello lays in pieces, completely destroyed.

>What do you say now?
>What can you do?
>You feel helpless.
>Realizing that you are truly unable to do anything for her.
>You try to pull her into your chest, covering her eyes from the sight of her cello.
>She doesn’t fight back.
>You pull her close, gently putting an arm around her head.
“Octavia… I’m... I don’t….”
>You are unable to form words.
>Unsure of what to say, you do all that you can do and hold her tightly.
>The tears begin to form in your eyes as your continue to look at the remains of her instrument.

>What kind of monster would come into her home and ravage her things?
>What kind of beast would destroy that which brings nothing but goodness?

>Octavia breaks down, crying profusely into your chest.
>You stroke her mane, trying your best to comfort her.
>You feel time stop as the two of you remain on the floor.
>Existence outside of the room becoming irrelevant.
>Your breathing becomes more strained the longer you are there.
>But you are unable to leave.
>You are unable to move.
>Her pain far surpassing your own, you try your best to take some of it away.
>You are all she has left right now.
>She may not say it.
>But you know this.

>Octavia’s obscenely difficult time in Manehattan has been met with this fate.
>Her attempts to share the love that comes from music shattered and littered about.
>The question is why?
>How could this happen to Octavia, who has done nothing but worked hard her entire life?

>The answers do not matter.

>What is done is done.
>And the two of you are forced to deal with it.

>”An… Anon… why…?”

>Octavia’s cries louden, ringing in your ears.
>The sorrow of a heartbroken goddess, the only thing you feel.
>Her anguish, the song of a beautiful swan that has lost its way.
>Unable to find the light at the end of the tunnel.

~