Very calmly, she pours herself a cup of tea.
Very calmly, she stirs it.
Very calmly, she lifts the thing up to her muzzle and takes a dainty sip. Her eyes are shut as she allows the warmth of the drink to flow through her. Then her shadowed lids lift.
Very calmly, I continue glaring at her. We sit at a booth at Sugarcube Corner. I'm not about to take this mare home.
With a burgundy sigh, DJ Capricorn levitates the cup by her side. "I do not blame you for being angry at me. All things considered, this is the very definition of stalking. But..." She leans bad in her seat, clearing her throat. "If it's any consolation, Miss Scratch, I had previously planned to approach you at Salt Lick City. But... considering our last... erm... debacle, I did not feel right with the idea of cornering you in public. It seemed awfully unfair. I judged you for a mare who likes to live in peaceful, countrified seclusion. So, when I saw the train you were departing on... well... I simply couldn't resist."
I raise an eyebrow.
"I must say, I am rather surprised. Ponyville is no longer the inconspicuous dot on the map that it used to be. The Friendship Castle has made short order of that. And—" She cuts herself off upon seeing the hardness of my leer. Sighing, she takes another sip and places her teacup down. "Yes, well. Rest assured. Your secret is safe with me."
Around this time, Mrs. Cake shows up, mane and cheeks flouncing happily. "And just can I getcha, Ms. Scratch?"
Without taking my shaded eyes off Capricorn, I point at a straw dispenser on the nearby table.
"Oh... uhm..." Mrs. Cake carries it over. "But... no Dr. Pony, though?"
With a hoof, I slam the dispenser, causing several straws to roll out onto the table top.
"Uhhh!" Mrs. Cake gulps and trots away briskly with a nervous smile. "Okie doke!"
Nostrils flaring, I levitate two straws, rip them loose from their paper sleeves, and geture in the air with curt, angry blank speech: "Why. Are. You. Even. Here?"
"To give you something, of course."
My blood runs cold.
"Because... you very well do need to receive it." Eyes trained on me, DJ Capricorn reaches into her saddlebag. "Trust me, I mulled and mulled over it for days. I considered giving it to Beau, but he's so protective of you, there's no telling where the vinyl may have been."
As soon as I see a hint of blue, I swing my head to the side, fuming.
The burgundy continues rolling across the table between us. "I considered destroying it. Such would have been a simple thing. But perhaps it also would have been what you wanted..."
I clench my eyes shut. I refuse to look at the bright pastel album cover. I refuse to look at the embossed gold trim. I refuse to look at the title words or the song list or the pale bright mare with a glamorous grin posing on the stage in a glittery diamond gown.
"...and then something became clear to me, a fact of life that is seldom well received." Her voice grows hard, like mahogany. "We hardly ever do that which is healthy for us. And artists—more than anypony—are helpless victims to their own creativity. Our muse is our poison, and without an antidote? Well..."
"... ... ..."
"Mrs. Scratch, please open your eyes."
There's no use in fighting. She'll only stay longer if I refuse. I'm not about to take this to Twilight or her guards—as if they could even do anything. There's no way I'm letting this get out.
I open my eyes... and a young mare smiles back at me from behind a photographed micorphone.
"You need to stop running from Cyan Sings," DJ Capricorn says. "There are so few of her records left. So few bits of evidence that such marvelous talent once graced the stage... the airwaves... the record business. And you, DJ-P0N3... a far more amazing product—for sure—can only benefit from... acknowledging the part of you that she is. It is not something to be sad about. It may not even be something to be proud of. But... to neglect something that's so deeply ingrained... so much a part of our own very essence? Well... is it not unlike chopping loose an arm or a limb... or a horn?" Her eyes narrow. "As a mare who can appreciate the finer challenges of triumphing over life's shortcomings, surely you must understand the value in—"
I swing my straws around, producing three short words in inquiry.
Capricorn blinks. With a sigh, she nods. "Yes. I am quite done... if that is how it must be." She nevertheless places the vinyl face-down on the table and slides it towards me. I recoil from it like it's on fire, and she notices it. "I'm not all that surprised, Miss Scratch, at your reaction to all of this. And whatever you do with the priceless specimen will be whatever you do with it. But please understand that I did not buy an expensive train ticket just to come out all the way here and harass you before going back into the woodwork from which I sprung."
She stands up, gathers her saddlebag, and tightens it. Before making an exit, she takes one last sip of the cup, then shuffles towards me. She lingers by the table, eyes dull and melancholic. The burgundy in her voice fades to black.
"You are an inspiration to me, Miss Scratch. And I hate to think that something is carving you hollow from the inside. It's okay to move on from the past, but please... do not forget that there are three sides to the bridge. There's Cyan on the far side, DJ-P0N3 in the present, and Vinyl Scratch in the center. You are the bridge, Miss Scratch. You are the substance that carries your genius into sound, and it would sadden me greatly to imagine all of that collapsing... and where you might be when it does. Is bitterness and regret enough to keep you afloat?"
I say nothing. I stare at the tabletop.
She exhales. "I may not have your success or notoriety... but I have many years under my saddle... and I have made many mistakes to cover them. Now, there are things forever buried that I would love more than song itself to recover. Don't let your accomplishments measure up to a mere funeral dirge, Miss Scratch. You are worth far more than that."
And with a swish of her tail, she's gone.
I sit... alone with the bright blue past. As I hear hoofteps, I sigh and slide the thing out of sight.
"Is... is everything alright, Miss Scratch?" Mrs. Cake nervously asks.
I fold my forelimbs, glaring ahead into the seat once occupied by Capricorn.
"Was... was that strange mare bothering you?"
I don't respond. Instead, I give Mrs. Cake my usual gestures, requesting two bottles of Dr. Pony. Soon, she returns, and I guzzle the lump in my throat away.
I've already had my fill of bridges...
Well, I suppose if nothing else, she's at least being sincere. Still, it's a lot to take in. Hopefully Vinyl can finally come to terms with her past one day.
Also, what the buggery happened to the music?Ah, there it is. I'm gonna have to save this one for later use.
Regardless of her good intentions, Capricorn can go buck herself.
As for bridges...
I'm not going to beg you to write that scene.
Whew, deep chapter man, deep...
Thsi was kinda intense, nice job dude.
oh boy i think i got it! Did Vinyl try to jump off a bride only to be saved by Tavi and her violet voice? 'Cause Im going to say I CALLED IT if I called it!
You know what...
I'm with Capricorn on this one.
Yes, Vinyl is hurt by her past, but ignoring it is not going to help. She at least needs to have a moment to deal with it.
6536183 upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/7a/U.s_Playing_card_co._playing_cards_(1906).jpg
you know I would love see sweetie belle sing one of cyan sings songs just to rile vinyl up
typo, should be Mrs Cake, she's not actually Pinkie's mom.
Hmm. How long before she plucks up the courage to sample her past works? Assuming she will at all.
Well... that was a lot more... respectful than I expected.
Hmm, not to sure what to think of this chapter. On one hand Capricorn's reappearance seems to suggest something a bit more sinister - after all she was basically stalking Vinyl and discovering things Vinyl wanted to keep secret. Then again, Capricorn giving Vinyl the opportunity to reconcile with her past gives a good opportunity to see more into Vinyl's backstory. Though, with Vinyl's reaction and personality I kind of doubt she will take Capricorn up on the offer... which would mean this scene didn't really do much to advance the story along.
Though it did give us the hint about bridges, which could very well be a hint toward 'The Event' or perhaps something related to her and Tavi's relationship?
Vinyl needed to hear this... And Capricorn... Needed to say sorry. It was kind of an odd, backhanded way of apologizing, but that's what it was. She could have kept the record, but after seeing how it upset Vinyl to begin with... I think giving it back was the right choice.
I know what I wanna see vinyl do with the record, but I am not holding out much hope that she won't just toss it or lose it.
I strongly suspect that Vinyl will spend days or even weeks agonising over that album before deciding what to do with it. What do I think she'll do? She'll transcribe the lyrics and vocal melody and make a gift of it to Sweetie Belle - To the one voice that she's encountered to date that was entirely worthy of it. Then she'll use the resulting recordings in her next album.
After that, she will finally be free of her past.
Wait... Bridges? She lost her voice and couldn't sing... and says that Tavi saved her life...
Ah snap. Bridges.
What a stalkery but clearly well meant visit.
I wonder how many others would see what dj cap sees. Tavi has, but idk how many others know vinyl enough.
There's this kind of ever present dread that hangs in the background of these scenes, all from the slowly assembling picture of vinyls experiences.
Interesting chapter. Capricorn seems wise beyond her youthful years, and I really hope Vinyl reflects on what was said once she's less emotional about all of it. She's a complicated mare, that she is.
~SolidFire
Cap, sweetheart... Can we talk?
Look, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you really do have the best of intentions. Hell, I'm not even going to say what you're trying to do isn't, in some regard, noble.
But, for God's sake, girl! You can't just stalk a person across the freaking country, to a location they *vehemently* attempt to keep secret, and then sit them down and try to psycho/philoso-analyse their whole life based on one negative encounter you had with them. Even ignoring the several infringements to common decency (or even law) that you're making, do you really think being confrontational like this was gonna work? Seriously?
You seem like a nice girl. I'd really prefer to like you, not berate you. Please don't keep this sort of behavior up. Please.