"You sure you don't want us to go back to the apartment and grab your wheelchair for you, Vine?" Bon Bon asks.
I shake my head. Nevertheless, I wince slightly with each step I take across town. It's not so much that I'm in pain. I'm just... achy in a million tiny places. It all amounts to a big fluffy ball of ouch. If nothing else, it simply reminds me that I'm alive.
"It's okay, Bon Bon," Lyra says, levitating a case full of personal effects—Tavi's things. "You don't have to coddle her so much." She giggle-snorts. "That's Octavia's job."
I roll my shaded eyes with a smirk.
"Hardy har har, Lyra," Bon Bon muses. "Although, something tells me—once Octavia comes out of this, it'll be Vinyl who will do the coddling. At least for a few weeks."
"What do you say to that, Vine?" Lyra chirps. "A month of waiting on hoof and knee for Octavia as she recovers from her injuries?"
"I can't think of anypony better equipped for the job."
"Heehee! We should get her a little bell so she can summon Vinyl for the littlest of things."
"'Oh Vine, darling, would you kindly fetch me more red wine?'"
"Ooooh... I'm pretty sure Redheart's gonna tell her to go easy on the wine for a while."
"Ouch. Sorry if you'll have to deal with that, Vinyl."
I'm listening to them, and yet I'm not. As we approach the gates to Ponyville Central, I notice two... three... four ornate stagecoaches parked back to back, occupying much of the front lawn.
I'm not the only one.
"Yowsers... check out the wheels!" Lyra exclaims.
"Is Princess Celestia visiting?"
"Don't be silly, B-Squared. Those things are built out of dark mahogany. Celestia almost always rides in an open coach of polished gold and silver."
"Well, excuse me, Miss Vehicle Expert," Bon Bon mutters. "Still looks like royalty to me."
"Maybe one of the dignitaries from the Gala came to pay Octavia a visit."
"Heh. Wouldn't that be snazzy?"
I ponder on this as we enter the Hospital... as we take the elevator to Octavia's floor... as we approach the front counter of the ICU.
"Hey, uh... we're back," Lyra says, panting slightly as she heaves the bag onto the counter of the nurse's station. "And don't worry." She pats the satchel. "We've had this bad boy checked through security. Nothing but books, velvets, and bath products. Eheheh..."
The nurse behind the counter nods. "Indeed." Her eyes narrow. "And you are here to visit... who?"
"Huh?" Lyra blinks.
"Psssst..." Bon Bon leans in. "Lyra, she just started her shift."
"Oh! Right... guess we gotta do this officially." Lyra clears her throat. "We're here to... uh... visit Room 504?" She points at me. "This snazzy missy checked out of Room 501 just this morning."
"Mmmm... Room 504... Room 504..." The nurse scans down the list. "Oh!" She looks up, blinking brightly. "Are you here with the Melody party?"
"Hah! I guess you could say that—" Lyra blinks. "Wait... who's the Melody party?"
She's right to be confused. I'm blinking too.
And that's when I hear it...
"Would somepony kindly adjust the air conditioning as I requested twenty minutes ago? She's likely to freeze to death at this rate. Honestly..."
I grimace inside and out. There's something... putrid about it. Like day-old vomit. But what's worse is that there's a familiar color to the voice... despite its booming quality. It resembles indigo, only it's sprinkled with something else... something glittery, yet fake. Like fool's gold.
I turn in time to spot several well-dressed servants trotting back and forth with blankets and supplies. Down the hall—absorbing the glare of several nurses—is a tall, neatly dressed stallion with a gray coat and wearing an even grayer suit of fine silks. There's something golden on his lapel, and it brings out the amber in his cold, glazed eyes. He turns about, the light being absorbed into his slicked-back dark mane.
"I swear, if it wasn't for the Royal Princess' insistence, I'd take her to a far classier institution entirely." He strolls down the hallway, not caring how many patients' rooms rattle from the intensity of his dull, bass tones. I detect the unmistakable tilt of a Trottingham accent. "Then again, what more can you expect from government funding."
At last, his amber eyes fall on me. He freezes—as do his scrambling servants. For a split second, a layer of brown cycles through his voice.
"Oh... it's you." A sharp inhale. "I suppose I would run into you at some point or another. What was the name again? Vile Itch?" He shakes his head. "Not that it bloody matters. Miss Melody is being well-taken care of. You have my word. So you can kindly go home now."
Oh. Lovely.
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Hmm. So we finally meet again, for the forst and last time.
Oh hell naw.
This is why people stereotype the rich so much.
Because some bitches need stitches.
I hate this guy already.
hey assholes! if it wasn't for vinyl, you probably wouldn't have a daughter left!
6671847 I know people like that. And they assume that if a "lower class person" saved their daughter's life, well, that's what's supposed to happen. And if nobody did anything, it was their fault.
Oooooof course, why am I not surprised Tavi's got some assholes for family?
Haha! Just try and stop Vinyl... just try.
6671846
I'm pretty sure we all do.
I'm guessing that Vinyl doesn't get along with Tavi's family much, although from what she said earlier, Tavi doesn't get along with Tavi's family much.
I guess we now know why Octavia left Trottingham: to get away from HIM.
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May I reach into the story and STRANGLE this guy?
A term introduced a few chapters ago pops into my mind.
Screw that walking gluestick.
Ladies and gentlemen...
It's time to love and tolerate the shit out of this rat-faced bastard.
6672272
The piano wire of Love, and the pillow of Tolerance.
6671782
*sees the picture* Yes, go do that please, then go do it again
6672452 Oh, hello, sexy.
6671953
Tavi's family probably doesn't get along with Tavi's family.
I'd lay even bits on at least one of them being involved in litigation against the others over something trivial.
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. . . Go die in a hole
Oh boy...
If it's not one thing it's another. At least Twi can overrule those snobs' "wishes". Silver linings.
Yeah, Octavia did mention at some point that her dad is a tool.
There's dicks, there's total assholes, there's vile scum, ... and at the bottom of it all, there's snooty rich guys like that ass, who is probably Tavi's dad. Screw him all the way to Tartarus and back.
-GentlemanPirate
To quote a favorite Living Tombstone song of mine,
"I hope you die in a fire...
I hope you get stabbed in the heart...
I hope you get shot and expire."
Ooh! Asshole Plot-Device time! These guys are fun to watch as they fall.
Sounds like family finally decided to visit.
Whelp. Last two chapters were full of too much d'aww anyhow, I suppose it was about time for some one to ruin the good mood of others.
... Vinyl, Lyra and Bon Bon didn't by any chance grab Tavi's cello, did they? I'm under the distinct impression that she's just strong enough to take a swing at her family with it.
That said, this is going to be a mother of a showdown. Tavi family vs. The Mane Six, Vinyl, Lyra and Bon Bon. I look forward to the carnage!
6673561
What ever did those poor, poor denizens of Tartarus do to you to deserve that?!
6671782 Remember...
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6674161 Sending him back, for instance. No way in hell is that guy still alive for any other reason than the afterlife not wanting him either. Diamond Tiara at least got her punishment every once in a while. That guy obviously needed to fall into a pig mud hole as a colt, but was denied said opportunity.
-GentlemanPirate
Oh, no, dude, fuck this guy.
Every word you just spoke has made me violently angry.