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Literature Text
Vinyl Scratch never took things too seriously. She was a famous DJ, although she didn't really care if anypony knew her name, so long as everypony was having a good time. She lived with her good friend Bon Bon… and for all intents and purposes, Lyra. Despite what can only be called a weird break up, she was still good friends with her ex… what more could she want?
The white unicorn trotted into her favorite place in all of Equestria. That is, besides behind her turntables. And at home on her bed. And where ever there was food to be eaten. Besides THOSE places, Scratch was in her favorite place; the record store. Scratch could spend weeks in the store if somepony would let her. The only problem, though, is that the colt who owned the record store, also owned the adjacent instrument store. As if on cue, somepony started playing… whatever Celestia-awful instrument they were playing. Scratch grimaced at the man behind the counter.
"Don't you ever get sick of hearing this garbage?"
"Eh, you learn to tune it out."
"Yeah, the same way you'd tune out somepony running over a toaster with a lawn mower."
Scratch shook her head and tried her best to focus on finding a record that she hadn't yet bought and exhausted. She needed something new, something fresh.
SCRRRRRREEEECH
Something that didn't sound like a group of fillies with their parents pots and pans. Scratch shot a look at the guy behind the counter but he just smiled and shrugged it off.
"One more outburst like that, and Scratch's gonna smack a mare."
Vinyl Scratch mumbled to herself as she continued to peruse her options. With dread, she noted that the only place in the store she had left to browse was the new records part… the part of the store that was closest to the already wide open glass doors that lead to the instrument shop. Scratch heaved a sigh and pointed a hoof in the air.
"For music!"
She headed towards the section and did her best to find something worth going over there for. It wasn't fast enough, though, as somepony had begun testing another instrument. The noise assaulted Scratch as if there was an electric toothbrush getting shoved into her ear. She grimaced in pain and shot a disgruntled look at the colt behind the counter. The colt behind the counter slowly moved his head in tune with the piece. Scratch grumbled to herself and went back to searching for a record. Truthfully, the piece was played with much emotion and, for as much as Scratch cared to admit, it was played quite well. Scratch shook her head and found the colt staring at her.
"Hey, if you don't like it, feel free to go do something about it."
"You know what? I will. This music is against the law. It makes me feel dirty and cheap."
The colt shook his head as Scratch marched through the glass doors. She quickly slowed her pace, though. She had never been in this section of the building. Everything was white. The tiling on the floors, the walls, the ceiling. It was all a blinding shade of white. The glass on the counter tops was so clear that Scratch could see the dust bits on the harmonicas underneath. Not that there was much dust. Everything was so pristine…
"Ugh. Is this a music factory or a hospital? Must be a hospital 'cause I don't hear any music!"
Vinyl Scratch did her best to hide her true awe of the instruments and clean appearance, and continued her mission to find the music-killing culprit. The shop wasn't too big, though, so it took no time at all for Scratch to find the musician. And when she did, she promptly ducked under a counter, barely missing the slightly outstretched edge.
Scratch couldn't find her words. Her heartbeat was in her throat. She had no idea what instrument of death the pony was playing, nor did she hear the music anymore. Scratch let her emotions settle as she peeked over the glass counter top. Playing what looked to be… something. Scratch stopped caring about the stringed noise machine almost immediately.
"Wow…"
Vinyl Scratch had seen a lot of ponies. She was a DJ, seeing ponies was part of her job. But for some reason this pony took her breath away. She did everything she could to soak in the very essence of this pony.
"She's beautiful…"
In the back of her head, Scratch was making fun of herself for loosing herself over this pony with horrible tastes in music. The light grey pony was very dignified in her movements. Each muscle in her body working in perfect harmony with the others to create a masterpiece. She almost looked like a robot, Scratch noted. Her body was one with the instrument and as much as Scratch loathed it, she was starting to dig the music. The grey pony held her last note and opened her eyes. Scratch ducked as her heart lurched into her throat. Those eyes. Those beautiful purple eyes. Vinyl Scratch could practically hear the hearts floating around her head, and she COULD hear her own voice screaming into her ears.
Hey. Wanna hear a funny story? It's called, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Scratch jumped. High. When she landed back on the floor, she rubbed her head and looked up at a new colt looking down on her.
"Is there anything I can help you with today, miss?"
"Uh, just admiring this… uh… floor. Yep. It sure is a floor. Nice sturdy floor with a… holy Luna is that a dustmite? Bye!"
Though she currently had a throbbing headache, Scratch dashed out of the store the way she came. She had to hand it to herself, though; she sure did know how to get out of a situation. However, she dared not look back at the gorgeous pony she had just seen, after all, with all the white around, there was no way she could hide her bright red face.
The white unicorn trotted into her favorite place in all of Equestria. That is, besides behind her turntables. And at home on her bed. And where ever there was food to be eaten. Besides THOSE places, Scratch was in her favorite place; the record store. Scratch could spend weeks in the store if somepony would let her. The only problem, though, is that the colt who owned the record store, also owned the adjacent instrument store. As if on cue, somepony started playing… whatever Celestia-awful instrument they were playing. Scratch grimaced at the man behind the counter.
"Don't you ever get sick of hearing this garbage?"
"Eh, you learn to tune it out."
"Yeah, the same way you'd tune out somepony running over a toaster with a lawn mower."
Scratch shook her head and tried her best to focus on finding a record that she hadn't yet bought and exhausted. She needed something new, something fresh.
SCRRRRRREEEECH
Something that didn't sound like a group of fillies with their parents pots and pans. Scratch shot a look at the guy behind the counter but he just smiled and shrugged it off.
"One more outburst like that, and Scratch's gonna smack a mare."
Vinyl Scratch mumbled to herself as she continued to peruse her options. With dread, she noted that the only place in the store she had left to browse was the new records part… the part of the store that was closest to the already wide open glass doors that lead to the instrument shop. Scratch heaved a sigh and pointed a hoof in the air.
"For music!"
She headed towards the section and did her best to find something worth going over there for. It wasn't fast enough, though, as somepony had begun testing another instrument. The noise assaulted Scratch as if there was an electric toothbrush getting shoved into her ear. She grimaced in pain and shot a disgruntled look at the colt behind the counter. The colt behind the counter slowly moved his head in tune with the piece. Scratch grumbled to herself and went back to searching for a record. Truthfully, the piece was played with much emotion and, for as much as Scratch cared to admit, it was played quite well. Scratch shook her head and found the colt staring at her.
"Hey, if you don't like it, feel free to go do something about it."
"You know what? I will. This music is against the law. It makes me feel dirty and cheap."
The colt shook his head as Scratch marched through the glass doors. She quickly slowed her pace, though. She had never been in this section of the building. Everything was white. The tiling on the floors, the walls, the ceiling. It was all a blinding shade of white. The glass on the counter tops was so clear that Scratch could see the dust bits on the harmonicas underneath. Not that there was much dust. Everything was so pristine…
"Ugh. Is this a music factory or a hospital? Must be a hospital 'cause I don't hear any music!"
Vinyl Scratch did her best to hide her true awe of the instruments and clean appearance, and continued her mission to find the music-killing culprit. The shop wasn't too big, though, so it took no time at all for Scratch to find the musician. And when she did, she promptly ducked under a counter, barely missing the slightly outstretched edge.
Scratch couldn't find her words. Her heartbeat was in her throat. She had no idea what instrument of death the pony was playing, nor did she hear the music anymore. Scratch let her emotions settle as she peeked over the glass counter top. Playing what looked to be… something. Scratch stopped caring about the stringed noise machine almost immediately.
"Wow…"
Vinyl Scratch had seen a lot of ponies. She was a DJ, seeing ponies was part of her job. But for some reason this pony took her breath away. She did everything she could to soak in the very essence of this pony.
"She's beautiful…"
In the back of her head, Scratch was making fun of herself for loosing herself over this pony with horrible tastes in music. The light grey pony was very dignified in her movements. Each muscle in her body working in perfect harmony with the others to create a masterpiece. She almost looked like a robot, Scratch noted. Her body was one with the instrument and as much as Scratch loathed it, she was starting to dig the music. The grey pony held her last note and opened her eyes. Scratch ducked as her heart lurched into her throat. Those eyes. Those beautiful purple eyes. Vinyl Scratch could practically hear the hearts floating around her head, and she COULD hear her own voice screaming into her ears.
Hey. Wanna hear a funny story? It's called, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Scratch jumped. High. When she landed back on the floor, she rubbed her head and looked up at a new colt looking down on her.
"Is there anything I can help you with today, miss?"
"Uh, just admiring this… uh… floor. Yep. It sure is a floor. Nice sturdy floor with a… holy Luna is that a dustmite? Bye!"
Though she currently had a throbbing headache, Scratch dashed out of the store the way she came. She had to hand it to herself, though; she sure did know how to get out of a situation. However, she dared not look back at the gorgeous pony she had just seen, after all, with all the white around, there was no way she could hide her bright red face.
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"Octavia Philharmonica," the beige stallion interrupted flatly, eying the mare across the wooden expanse of his desk. "Currently known through all of Canterlot as the pony who aided and abetted the ruination of the Grand Galloping Gala by participating in the rendition of, of all things, the 'pony pokey'."
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Fluttershy and Pinkie shared a sleeping bag and were lying alongside each other. Rainbow Dash couldn't help smiling at the sight of the yellow pony covering Pinkie with one of her wings. Pinkie had her face close to Fluttershy's ear, and she ruffled her mane with almost each breath. Both ponies slept s
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Okay, this is my second shipfic. I'm so Rainbow Dash, it hurts, but I can't not write about Vinyl Scratch right now, so we'll see if I can take my AppleDash musings and turn it into a great OctaScratch. Please... be gentle. I haven't really even read this through yet. It's quite short for a first part, but I'm getting there.
MLP belongs to Hasbro and all that. Lauren Faust is a goddess.
Christmas Edit: I maked it purdy.
MLP belongs to Hasbro and all that. Lauren Faust is a goddess.
Christmas Edit: I maked it purdy.
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Hello, I've just recently begun to appreciate Vinyltavia more than when I first knew of them and I am definitely liking this already.
(I also will only call them Vinyltavia because the alternative does not sound good at all.)
(I also will only call them Vinyltavia because the alternative does not sound good at all.)