A/N
Alright, yes, the first chapter is done. Keep it in your pants, guys and girls.
Unless you're a hot girl. Then pics or it didn't happen.
"That was fun!" Pinkie exclaimed, demanding the highest of fives from the DJ beside her while giggling like a maniac, as per usual. "Y'know, we make a good team!"
"Dude, I know!" Vinyl replied, giving the five with gusto. The wedding went pretty well after the shapeshifting bug monsters got chucked back whence they came, thanks in no small part to some sick fucking drops that totally made Twilight's sweet-ass vocals sound like those of a crying baby by comparison. "We should, like, hang out or something!"
"Oh, we should!" The pink lady agreed, bouncing in place from the sheer happiness that idea filled her with. Pinkie was the type of person who could only get off if she made at least three new friends in a day, and at last count, that DJ lady made nine. "Hey, it's only like ten! You wanna help me put a whoopie cushion on every chair in the castle?"
"Uh... won't we get, like, arrested?"
Pinkie grew a diabolical smile that looked strangely out of place on the young lady, and wrapped her arm around her new partner in crime. "Of course not, Silly! I have friends in high places."
Suddenly, the pink lady pulled a 180, turning with her one-armed hug hostage to face Princess Celestia, who was fiddling with the punch ladel. "HEY PRINCESS!" The pink lady shouted, causing Celestia to turn towards them. "WE'RE GONNA GO PUT WHOOPIE CUSHIONS ALL OVER THE CASTLE!"
Celestia laughed, and nodded. "Very well. Have fun you two!" She replied, and as the two young women started their journey into the castle, she placed, the ladel back into the punch bowl, along with the hole she carved into the bottom. "You'd think they'd learn to watch me while I'm at the punch bowl." She said to herself, chuckling. She had a habit of doing this at every party she's ever been to, and at least four royal orgies. But there hadn't been a royal orgy in about six hundred years, and that fact made her quite sad.
But back to the protagonists. Pinkie led Vinyl to what might have been a storeroom of some sort. It was big, and empty save for a number of wooden crates, and the pink lady must have decided that it would suffice, because she immediately withdrew both her arms through her sleeves, and slid the whole thing off. Apparently, she was a firm believer in always coming prepared, because she then flipped her dress upside-down, revealing rows upon rows of deflated, and neatly folded, whoopie cushions. "Whoa." Vinyl said, trying to count them and then giving up almost immediately. They were damn near infinite, and math was boring. "Do you take these everywhere?"
"Of course not, silly!" The other lady said, bending down and starting what was probably going to be the long and tedious job of unhooking them all. "I'd look ridiculous if I carried all of these around with me everywhere! I usually hide a few in my shirt, though." She added, shrugging. "I've also got a bunch of them stashed around town. Y'know, in case of a prank emergency. Here," She began, handing a neat stack to Vinyl, who accepted them somewhat hesitantly. Even though the Princess seemed fine with the idea, she had a bit of a criminal record, and while it was nothing serious (mostly disturbing the peace and, once when she get really drunk, public indecency), she would much rather steer clear of people who had the ability to arrest her. "Hold these for me. I bet you didn't bring a catsuit, huh?"
"A... a catsuit?" The DJ asked, obviously confused. "No, I didn't. Sorry."
"That's okay!" Pinkie exclaimed, reaching an arm waaaay into the gigantic, floofy domey thing (TM BEARSHARK 2012) at the bottom of her dress, and withdrawing what was obviously the tightest-fitting thing anyone has ever worn, ever. "You can use mine!"
"Uh... huh. I see. Well, this was fun." Vinyl said, opening the door, fully prepared to put as much distance between herself and the crazy lady who may or may not also be a ninja, apparently. "But I think I hear Octavia calling. She's my ride home, and I'd hate to keep her waiting. So... uh... bye, I guess."
Pinkie blinked confusedly a few times, frowned briefly, and then smiled again, even wider than she was before. "Okey dokey, lokey! I'll see you around!"
"Yeah. Seeya."
She closed the door, and sighed. She'd been in a number of awkward situations before, drunk off her ass or otherwise, but that one took the cake. Alone in a room with a crazy pink lady that seemed to think carrying around a shitload of whoopie cushions was more important than wearing something under her dress.
Well, that mental picture would be with her for a while, whether she wanted it to or not. And she kind of wanted it to. As far as completely batshit insane people go, Pinkie wasn't too hard on the eyes. And honestly, Vinyl always wondered if she was a natural pink. Now she knew.
Yes. Yes she was.
"There you are!" Said Octavia, rounding the corner, hand on her hips in the universal stance of 'you're about to get an earful.' "I've been looking all over for you! I had to ask the Princess if she saw where you got off to!"
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, mom." Vinyl replied, mimicing her adopted sister's stance. Vinyl came from a family of famous musicians, and just when she was just about to get born, someone dropped a perfectly good baby on her parent's doorstep. Long story short, Vinyl decided classical wasn't really her style, while Octavia simply couldn't get enough of the stuff. This resulted in more than few disputes (read: fights) while growing up. They both got their marks when they tied for first place in their school's talent competition, and it was about that time that her sister accepted Vinyl's quote-unquote 'wubs' as a type of music, and they've gotten along pretty well ever since. Not fabulously, but pretty well. The cellist glared at her sister, and then flicked her on the nose, causing the DJ to let loose a stream of profanity people usually only heard when she was drinking. "Ow, what the fuck!"
"At least I wear panties, Vinyl. C'mon let's get home."
"What? Boxers are comfier."
"Good morning to you too." Octavia groaned, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. Vinyl was humming (humming) in tune with the custom dishwasher she made last year, which didn't use soap, because soap was for pussies. It used wubs to turn the water into a sweet-ass rave party, after which the water got its shit together long enough to clean the dishes. At least, that's how Vinyl described it. Octavia, who paid enough attention in school to know how sound waves affect standing water, begged to differ, but she kept that opinion to herself. Her sister was quite proud of the machine, and it worked, so she saw no harm in it. But, thankfully, she was able to convince Vinyl to soundproof the thing, so it didn't blow out every window in the house (again). "What's for breakfast?"
"Bass."
"Very funny. Seriously, I'm famished, and you know what happens when I attempt to cook." The older sister said, sitting at the table and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Fire. Fire happens."
Laughing because it's true, Vinyl dropped a plate of waffles onto the table before her, which he pounced upon before stopping dead. "Wait a moment. It's your birthday."
"Of course not. My birthday's in the Spring."
"It is Spring. May tenth. Your birthday. So happy birthday, I suppose." She added, quite unenthusiastically. "Remind me to get you a cake or something later."
"Shit!" The younger sister suddenly exclaimed, tossing her apron to the floor ("I'm not picking that up." Octavia said, chewing slowly.) and running over to the window. "Shit shit shit. Okay, um... act natural!"
"I'm not already acting natural?"
"Shut up, you know what I mean."
Suddenly, there was a knock on their door, followed by a few more knocks, followed on one last knock, followed by a surprise knock that just completely fucked their shit up. Vinyl took a deep breath, gathere herself, and opened the door, revealing a smiling pink lady. "Uh... hey, Pinkie."
"Hey! It's your birthday, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SCRATCHY! Oh, can I call you Scratchy? I mean, I don't usually use nicknames, but Vinyl's kind of a weird name, no offense, and Scratchy's kinda catchy, y'know? Oh, I rhymed!" She added, giggling insanely. "Anyway, I stopped by to drop off your gift and say hello and then say goodbye and then leave so bye!" She said all of this very, very quickly, and it took a few seconds for Vinyl's brain to comprehend any of it. By the time it had, of course, the pink lady was long gone, and Vinyl realized she was holding a small, wrapped box.
"I... I feel like my brain just got raped. It was really weird."
"Before you say another word, let me ask you something. Why were you dreading a visit from Pinkie?"
"Long story."
"You two were only gone for five minutes last night. Can't be that long."
Pinkie led Vinyl to what might have been a storeroom of some sort. It was big, and empty save for a number of wooden crates, and the pink lady must have decided that it would suffice, because she immediately withdrew both her arms through her sleeves, and slid the whole thing off. Apparently, she was a firm believer in always coming prepared, because she then flipped her dress upside-down, revealing rows upon rows of deflated, and neatly folded, whoopie cushions. "Whoa." Vinyl said, trying to count them and then giving up almost immediately. They were damn near infinite, and math was boring. "Do you take these everywhere?"
"Of course not, silly!" The other lady said, bending down and starting what was probably going to be the long and tedious job of unhooking them all. "I'd look ridiculous if I carried all of these around with me everywhere! I usually hide a few in my shirt, though." She added, shrugging. "I've also got a bunch of them stashed around town. Y'know, in case of a prank emergency. Here," She began, handing a neat stack to Vinyl, who accepted them somewhat hesitantly. Even though the Princess seemed fine with the idea, she had a bit of a criminal record, and while it was nothing serious (mostly disturbing the peace and, once when she get really drunk, public indecency), she would much rather steer clear of people who had the ability to arrest her. "Hold these for me. I bet you didn't bring a catsuit, huh?"
"A... a catsuit?" The DJ asked, obviously confused. "No, I didn't. Sorry."
"That's okay!" Pinkie exclaimed, reaching an arm waaaay into the gigantic, floofy domey thing at the bottom of her dress, and withdrawing what was obviously the tightest-fitting thing anyone has ever worn, ever. "You can use mine!"
"Uh... huh. I see. Well, this was fun." Vinyl said, opening the door, fully prepared to put as much distance between herself and the crazy lady who may or may not also be a ninja, apparently. "But I think I hear Octavia calling. She's my ride home, and I'd hate to keep her waiting. So... uh... bye, I guess."
Pinkie blinked confusedly a few times, frowned briefly, and then smiled again, even wider than she was before. "Okey dokey, lokey! I'll see you around!"
"Yeah. Seeya."
She closed the door, and sighed. She'd been in a number of awkward situations before, drunk off her ass or otherwise, but that one took the cake. Alone in a room with a crazy pink lady that seemed to think carrying around a shitload of whoopie cushions was more important than wearing something under her dress.
Well, that mental picture would be with her for a while, whether she wanted it to or not. And she kind of wanted it to. As far as completely batshit insane people go, Pinkie wasn't too hard on the eyes. And honestly, Vinyl always wondered if she was a natural pink. Now she knew.
Yes. Yes she was.
"There you are!"
"And that's what happened." Vinyl finished, draining the glass of orange juice she didn't remember pouring before realizing it was her sister's. "Huh. Well, that's why. Because she's crazy."
"I expect you to pour me another glass, birthday girl." Octavia said dryly, before cracking a smile. "I also like how you left in the part about Pinkie being easy on the eyes. It really brings the whole story together."
"Shut up."
"No. I didn't know you like the ladies." Octavia teased, forking another forkful of waffle into her face. "In hindsight, it's pretty obvious. You're a slob, you wear men's underwear, you drink, you-"
"Hey!" Vinyl interrupted, pouring another glass of orange juice and then drinking it out of spite. "You drink!"
"No, I enjoy wine with my good friend Rarity. You go out to a bar, drink until you can barely stand, and stumble home at two in the morning. Oh, and there was also that one time when you talked about how hot that one lady was."
"That one lady's pretty hot." Vinyl said, pointing at the supermodel draped across the guy with the nice stache. "Hey, is that your pal Rarity over there?"
"Oh yeah, I remember that."
"Which is surprising," Octavia began, setting down her fork. "Because you then immediately proceeded to get drunk."
"Eh, whatever. Now then, let's see what Crazy McBatshit got me. I swear, if it's a severed head, I'll... oh." She finished, quite anticlimactically. Inside the box was a single, neatly folded slip of paper, along with two knitted bowl-looking things. "Well, it's not a head. Let's see... Dear Scratchy, I got you some headphone cozies. HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN! Pinkie. Wow. That was... awfully nice of her."
"You should really try to get to know her." Octavia said, silently wishing she had more waffles. "Rarity says she's always ready to make friends." She finished this sentence with a suggestive wink, and received a death-glare from her sister in response. "Oh, come on. She doesn't just hand out birthdays gifts to anyone, you know. Rarity said she hasn't gotten one in a while."
"But... they're, like, best friends!"
"Well, Pinkie can't afford gifts for everybody. All of her money goes towards those parties of hers. That's why she lives in the bakery, you know."
"No... I didn't." Vinyl replied, thinking very hard for a few seconds before starting towards the door. "I'll be back eventually!" She said, closing the door behind her as Octavia put her plate and fork into the dishwasher.
"Well, now I'm bored. I wonder what Rarity's doing?"
A/N
THERE. I DID IT. HAPPY NOW, WANKERS?
I feel like this went well. I feel like it could've gone better, but it went well.
This fic is secondary to me. I have a primary fic I'm currently writing called Indigo, and while that's gonna make no fucking sense whatsoever for a while, I have plans for it. This one, on the other hand, is just a little side project. I'm gonna go ahead and say that this is a prequel/spinoff to Indigo, so keep an eye out for plot details, people who are reading both of these!
Yeah, all two of you.
There aren't going to be a lot, but there will be some, and I think that's incentive enough.
-BEARSHARK
