//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9 
// Story: Vinyl and Octavia: University Days 
// by DawnFade 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 9



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“How did you-“ spluttered the cellist.

“Spoke to the student coordinator,” replied the DJ as she climbed out of the box.

“But you-“

“Told you not to do that cause it was unlikely she’d let us move in together?” Vinyl grinned and winked.

“When did-“

“Carried my stuff across town about an hour ago. I’ve never used so much magic at once in my life!” She gave a slightly breathless chuckle, and Octavia noticed beads of sweat clinging to her white coat. “Wow, I feel great!” The unicorn made to take a few steps closer but stumbled, and the cellist rushed forward to catch her.

The sound of fluttering wings came closer, followed by a thud in the doorway. “Sorry Vinyl!” said the light-blue pegasus. “I held her as long as I… oh, I’m sorry! Um, let me get the door!” She quickly pulled it closed before either of them could explain. Further muffled apologies came through the thin door, getting quieter as the odd pegasus retreated.

Vinyl seemed to have accepted the fact she could no longer stand, happily going slack in Octavia’s hooves. “This is cool. Isn’t this cool?”

“O-kay, I wasn’t aware that overexerting magic made unicorns delirious,” muttered the cellist, half-dragging her friend over to the freshly-made bed beneath the window.

“I feel pretty good about things,” the DJ informed her, nodding her head sagely as she was placed gently upon the covers.

“That’s nice, Vinyl,” giggled Octavia as she turned back to unpack the rest of the white pony’s possessions.

The mare in question let out a low chuckle as she did so. “You should walk away from me more often.”

“Get some sleep, you silly pony, lest I start writing down what you say so I can bring it up later.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes the room was flooded with soft snoring. Octavia rolled her eyes and dug into the nearest box. Unsurprisingly, she emerged with a stack of pristine records neatly stored in transparent cases and labelled with delicate consistency.

After going through a second and third box and finding nothing but records, the cellist became exasperated. “Did you even bring any clothes or personal items?” she asked irritably. It didn’t help that the only answer was in the form of a particularly loud snore.

Deciding to shake the next box before opening it, she was delighted to hear the sound of small objects sliding around.

If this isn’t her personal belongings, I’ll eat my bowtie.

Sure enough, inside there were a number of little gadgets and miscellaneous objects. Of notable interest was her phone, a small, easily concealed thing as was common to unicorns who rarely needed to physically touch their mobiles.

She rolled it between her hooves and it activated, seemingly welcoming her touch. Octavia glanced at the sleeping unicorn cautiously, then let a little smile creep onto her face.

It can’t hurt to see how many contacts is considered normal. I won’t look at any messages though, not unless my hoof slips.

Her eyes widened as the names began to scroll. “Oh my…”

There were hundreds! Although some were named That dude with the goatee and Red-maned mare, there were still a great many with proper titles, far more than the grey mare had anticipated. Compared to her own meagre list of three numbers (Vinyl, her mother, emergency services), she felt like an inexperienced player in a complex social game.

Oh dear, I’ve accidentally opened her recent texts.

Strangely enough, aside from somepony named ‘Shady Sexbomb’, she was the only pony Vinyl had texted in the last couple of weeks.

Where are all her party invitations? Does she call them instead of texting?

That seemed the most likely answer, but Octavia resisted the urge to look through the recent calls.

What if she is as bored and lonely as I am? Oh, thank Celestia she found a way to have us share a room.

Things were looking up.

Curiosity satisfied for the moment, she carefully placed the various keepsakes and such upon Vinyl’s desk. There was still a lot of unpacking to do, not to mention some shuffling of the furniture. A mixing table really shouldn’t sit in the centre of the room…


---


The DJ awoke to the soft, deep, reverberating tones of a cello somewhere to her right. Raising her head a few inches, a magnificent scene revealed itself.

There, sitting on the bed opposite her, half covered in the speckled orange glow of sunset shining through rain, was Octavia. Eyes closed, absorbed in her work, hoof gently guiding the bow across the strings, she struck a memorable sight. And in the waking-daze of the sleepy DJ’s mind, that sight became positively angelic.

Gasping, the unicorn finally remembered to breathe and in doing so unintentionally alerted the subject of her fascination.

“Huh?” Those amethyst eyes flickered open and trained themselves on Vinyl. “Oh, you’re awake! Sorry, I always practice at sunset. I should’ve gone somewhere-“

“No,” croaked the DJ. Clearing her throat and sitting up slightly, she continued. “It’s cool. Uh, can you keep playing please? I… gotta do something.”

Octavia frowned but did as she was asked, resuming the piece with the calm skill of a master.

Vinyl slipped off the bed and padded across the room, giving the cellist an almost reverent berth. From the neatly stacked school supplies that had transported themselves onto her new desk, she withdrew her sketchbook and pencils.

Upon seeing it, Octavia’s cheeks flushed red. “Um, Vinyl, I’m not very good at-“

“Shh,” hushed the white pony, positioning herself in front of her roommate as if she was in a daze.

And dazed she was, now exposed completely to the musician before her. Higher thought processes escaped her, instead replaced by an insistent, congenital urge to create.

Together they sat, one reciting and the other creating, in the dusk bloom.

As the most perfect of moments are wont to do, it ended too soon. The sun drifted completely beneath the horizon and broke the two ponies from their mutual waking-dream.

Octavia lowered her bow and stretched her suddenly aching foreleg as Vinyl looked up in surprise at her odd position on the floor.

“Why am I sitting here?” she muttered, climbing to her feet and cracking her neck.

“You were drawing.” The cellist gestured at the sketchbook, currently open on an image of a pony with a… “You were drawing me?”

“Uh… I guess I was. And you were playing for me.” They frowned at each other.

After a moment of silence, Vinyl snorted and started to chuckle. “What the heck are we doing?” She laughed even harder.

“I have no idea!” Octavia burst into a fit of giggles. The absurdity of the situation only fuelled their mirth. “Not even a day of living with you, and I already feel like I’ve been drugged.”

“It’s all downhill from here, filly!” The DJ tossed the sketchbook back onto her desk and climbed up onto the bed beside her friend.

“Oh Celestia, why did I agree to this?”

“You didn’t. That’s why it’s so awesome.” She playfully jabbed a hoof into Octavia’s side, eliciting a squeak. “Oh? What’s this?” A devious grin parted her lips.

“N-nothing, don’t do that again.” Saying that was practically an invitation, as the unicorn dived on the grey pony and brought her hooves in for full effect, rubbing and tickling her stomach with glee. “Aha! No! Stop – no – please!”

“What’s that? You trailed off a bit at the end!” Vinyl redoubled her efforts despite the mare’s struggles and hysterical laughter.

“Vinyl – I – Will – Kill – You!” With a mighty buck, she rolled the two of them off the bed, narrowly missing her abandoned cello and landing with a thud on the carpet.

They lay there, panting and staring at each other, almost muzzle to muzzle. One wore a silly grin and the other tried her best to muster a fear-inspiring glare. It wasn’t working, as evidenced by a lazy white hoof drifting up and poking her nose.

“Boop,” whispered the DJ.

“You will die by my hoof,” the cellist hissed back, though she couldn’t help the smile that grew across her face.

“Such a nice little mare, aren’t you?”

“I was. You’ve ruined me.” Vinyl let out a familiar low chuckle, but remained silent, still wearing a lopsided grin. “What?” Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.”

Just thinking ‘bout ruining you.

“Tell me. What’s so funny?”

“You probably wouldn’t find it funny.” Her mind raced, knowing that the other mare wasn’t going to drop the issue.

“Only one way to find out. Tell me.”

“Alright, I was thinking… you think you’re ruined now, just wait. This is just the beginning.” She gave the most evil grin she could manage for emphasis.

“Oh, shush. I don’t think you’re as bad as you pretend to be.”

Vinyl moved slightly closer, glasses masking her wide eyes. “Let me show you how bad I am,” she said softly, heart pumping so hard she was afraid it might burst.

Octavia followed suit, apparently interpreting the movement as conspiratorial rather than… anything else. “How? Have you got pranks planned?” she giggled at the thought.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

What am I doing? Was I really trying…?

“Well try not to include me in any of them. I’d rather stay off the university blacklist for as long as possible, though I suppose now I’m sharing with you it’s an inevitability.” She chuckled and brought her own hoof up to tap Vinyl’s nose. “Boop!”

The DJ forced a laugh, her brain still reeling from certain thoughts. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, if you don’t have any pranks planned right now, we should get something to eat. All that ‘getting tortured by you’ has left me famished.” Octavia climbed to her hooves and helped her friend do the same.

“Good idea. Anywhere in mind?” Vinyl tried to keep her tone even as she shook her head to dislodge some persistent mental images.

“Perhaps Blues’ Tavern? For nostalgias sake?”

The pair shared a warm smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”


---


In contrast to the chilly grey streets outside, the tavern was warm and brightly lit. Ponies laughed with their friends as they let the stresses of life trickle down the sides of their mugs. A group of hardhat-toting worker stallions had taken three booths including the corner one, so Vinyl instead led her roommate to a table on the less-rowdy side of the bar.

“I didn’t even know this place served food,” muttered the unicorn, floating some menus over from the bar counter.

“It’s nothing really extravagant, but it will do. My… mother took me here once, when we came to inspect the campus grounds.”

“Yeah? Sounds like you and your mum are pretty close.”

“Well… to some degree, I suppose so.” Octavia picked up one of the tall menus and hid her expression behind it. “What about your parents?”

Idly browsing down the array of greasy foods, Vinyl shrugged. “They’re lame. Kicked me out as soon as I turned eighteen.”

The cellist gasped, forgetting her own troubles in an instant. “They what?! How could they do that?”

“Pretty easily, apparently.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Eh, who needs ‘em. Besides, if I hadn’t got kicked out, I might not have been able to move in with you so easily.”

“Well… still…”

The topic slipped away as a tall, blonde-maned stallion approached. “How can I serve you?” he drawled, accent offsetting his manner.

“Large hayfries and a deep-fried daffodil kebab,” announced the unicorn, slamming her menu down with more force than was necessary.

“Excellent choice. And for the missus?”

Vinyl opened her mouth to correct him, already preparing a fake laugh to dispel the anticipated awkwardness, but Octavia spoke too quickly. “I’ll have a daisy salad, please.”

“Another good choice. Coming right up.” Marching away, the odd stallion began to whistle, completely unaware of his actions.

“Uh, Octavia… You know what a ‘missus’ is, right?”

It was the cellist’s turn to shrug. “A slang word for ‘friend’?”

“Er, almost. Well, not almost. Not even close, really.” The white mare couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well what does it mean, then?”

“Like… partner. As in, partner-partner. Female partner.”

“Oh.” As expected, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “So now he thinks…?”

“Yup.”

“Oh dear. I’m very sorry, Vinyl. Is there a dictionary or something where all of these slang words are defined? I seem to be making this mistake often.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll get the hang of slang eventually.”

“Should I go find that waiter and explain it?”

The DJ sat upright instantly. “No! I mean, uh, it’s not important enough to bother with. Okay?”

“Alright, it was just an idea.”

Silence reigned for the next few minutes, punctuated only by the ambient noise around them. Octavia felt awful, and had yet to stop mentally kicking herself.

Vinyl must get so frustrated with me sometimes! Why must I be so awkward?!

Thankfully, Vinyl seemed to be tactful and polite enough not to make fun of her. Whatever she had done to deserve such a tolerant roommate, it wasn’t enough. A little, grateful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. A better best friend she couldn’t have hoped for.

For her part, Vinyl was busy studying the table carefully. Only because she had an appreciation for well-built furniture, not because she wanted to keep her mind from wandering. It did that enough already.

The giddy feeling that spread through her every time she relived the waiter calling Octavia her ‘missus’.

Seriously brain, shut up.

It was a relief when the food finally arrived. They both dug in immediately, not daring to leave a moment for conversation.

As her stomach slowly filled up, the DJ felt her mood improve significantly. That was why she kept having weird thoughts: her brain was just food-deprived. It made sense.

“I’m feelin’ good. Wanna hit up some clubs?” she asked, ignoring the glances ponies threw at her from nearby tables.

“After dinner? That’s just asking for trouble.” Octavia delicately pushed her plate forward and dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

Vinyl snorted. “You’ve had half a salad. You’ll be fine. Plus we don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

Biting her lower lip, the cellist fiddled with her mane before shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m honestly tempted. However, I have a history lecture tomorrow that I would rather not miss.”

“I guess I was wrong. You’re still a nice little mare.” She stuck her tongue out and the grey mare rolled her eyes. “Hey, it’s almost eight! We better get home in time for homework!”

“Oh, har har… though I really should get started on my homework.”

They stood up and walked over to the counter amidst giggles. Octavia carefully began to count out each bit until Vinyl tossed a hooffull of coins onto the counter and pulled her away with a grin.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” The DJ raised her eyebrows behind the purple shades as they walked out onto the street.

“What was?”

“Paying that much for the meal. I mean, I looked pretty cool, right?”

“I suppose so. It seemed like a waste though. You could have saved those bits for the next time we go out.”

A white hoof smacked into a white face. “That wasn’t the point.”

“Well, what was?”

The simple question hung in the cold night air. Vinyl looked at the ground, studying each step.

“I don’t know,” she muttered.

Together, they ambled into the welcoming darkness in which emotions could hide.





Sorry for being a little bit late. My own university studies occasionally intrude on ponies.

Probably no references this chapter, and thus probably no cameo contests! Sorry folks, they only happen if they happen naturally. I'm not going to just go back and plant them.

In case you are somehow unaware, Mysterious Bronie made a song based on this fic! Consider it the theme song. I recommend playing it before each chapter while imagining an opening title sequence.

As always, throw up your thumbs or throw down a comment if you're enjoying the story!