Octavia thread

Cute burro

TOP DONK

https://derpibooru.org/1430408
The only Octavia pic you will ever need.

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uh MONNSTA in Poekneevil blahst

>>30378879
you are correct

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Some pastebin for you
JeffMango: http://pastebin.com/PG3x6Rtx
SirGreensAlot: http://pastebin.com/QXyTNukc

https://pastebin.com/AZErYFq0

Octavia Stories over the years:
http://pastebin.com/dMGiu2Rv

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>>30380092

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Octavia is a stupid pony.

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>>30380139
who cares as long she is cute?

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>>30380139
Octavia is pretty poni

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>>30380132

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>>30380211

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>>30380266

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>>30380361

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After climbing down the stairs towards winding darkness, Octavia found herself falling deeper into the catacombs. She landed, however, on Puzzle Piece, providing a bony cushion to prevent her from sustaining injury. She claims she wants to rescue them, but Puzzle Piece tells her that, if she wanted to rescue them, going in the labyrinth is not a good way to do it. Still, they must both traverse the maze, and watch for dead ends filled with roaming corpses.

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>>30380155
Yea, she's pretty. Pretty stupid.

>>30380473
>Game Anon is still here.

Oh shit, I was just thinking about you yesterday. How's everything going, friend?

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>>30380482
shhh

>>30380482

Slow but steady. I'm working on the game with whatever spare time I have before my next class starts. I'm almost gonna graduate! At the end of summer, you are looking at a guy that has a Bachelor's Degree in Video Game Development!

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Tavi a cute

>>30380543
kek

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>>30380667
very cute

>>30380543
>[donkey's braying]
>[sophisticated chello horse bray]

>>30379974
Let's repost and comment the stories.

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>>30381622

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>>30382052

DONKHAY

Noice groy ponay

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>>30382982
very nice

>>30383146
who is she fighting?

>>30381746
now the question is how should we post it? All at once? simulate a writefag?

music donkey

>>30381746
Better that then monomaniacal pic bumping.
>>30384699
Probably all at once. Or as bumps.

bum

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>>30387109

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>ywn be human burro's pet stallion

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>>30378312
:^)

where is horse

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>>30387768
idk, what horse?

>>30387894
you, silly grey horsey

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>>30387911

>>30387917
yes, so silly and cute

>>30386758
That's a sweet drawing. I'd like to comfort sad cellopone.

>>30378312
She really does look like a donkey.

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>>30388198
but a cute one

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>>30388751

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>>30389113

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>>30389414

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>>30389811

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>>30390107
someone bump this while i sleep, please

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Love for grey musician horse.

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Reposting + a fresh pic for the story
>Flipping through the letters, Octavia picks another one at random
>The knife cut cleanly through the paper, and Octavia makes sure to put it back on the table safely before slipping the paper out
>She registers what the words say instantly
>They're large, and angry
>"Go back to breeding, Earth Pony slut!"
>Great. More hate mail
>Despite her unwillingness, Octavia feels an unstoppable compulsion to read the letter all the way through
>Just like she does every letter, good or bad
>The mail goes into deep detail about how she'll never be a 'real' success in Canterlot, no matter how hard she tries, and how she should go home to start a family, in much less kind words
>When she's done, Octavia puts the note down, next to the knife
>She never asked to have a cutie mark in classical music, you know
>Her hooves raise themselves to her face, cradling her head for a moment
>She just wanted to make music
>Perform for a crowd or two
>Maybe write a sonnet when she was older and more respected
>As the pipes in the old apartment whistle above her, Octavia removes her hooves and pulls her head back
>Maybe she should just give up
>She hadn't found much success so far anyway
>It was much easier to open a music store, give in to her heat when it came, make enough bits to be comfortable
>She didn't even know what she was trying to prove
>That she was more than her race?
>That she actually had more talent than any unicorn in a line up?
>That she just wanted to be respected?
>She didn't know
>But something inside her wouldn't let her stop
>It was probably that old 'Earth Pony Stubbornness'
>While she still got rotten looks on the street, whatever it was kept driving her
>Just wouldn't let her stop
>And she hated it
>Picking up the letter, Octavia hung it over the candle, letting it burn down to nothing
>Then she picked another letter
>It was probably just going to be more hate mail
>And she hated how it would probably just fuel the fire some more

variation
>Flipping through the letters, Octavia picks another one at random.
>The knife cut cleanly through the paper, and Octavia makes sure to put it back on the table safely before slipping the paper out.
>She registers what the words say instantly.
>They're large, and angry.
>"Go back to breeding, Earth Pony slut!"
>Octavia discarded the letter without reading any further.
>The nerve of some ponies.
>Just because she was an Earth Pony did not mean that she was some sexed up twat.
>She knew how to keep herself under control, knew how to avoid letting the heat get the best of her.
>It was easy to push back the thoughts, she certainly didn't want to be...bred.
>Didn't want to pushed around by a stallion stronger than her.
>One that didn't care how fancy she was 'supposed' to be.
>She didn't want to be led towards the bedroom, and laid down, her thick thighs sweating from the atmosphere, her...flower on full display.
>The stallion would be gentle, would stroke her cheek just right while whispering lewd things into her ear.
>His manhood would press against her inner thigh, not enough to be uncomfortable.
>He'd kiss her, pushing his tongue into her mouth and wrestling hers to submission.
>Then he'd begin to rub, ever so faintly, against her slit until she was grinding up against him desperately, all composure lost.
>Then, when she was nice and wet, he would...
>Octavia stopped.
>When had her hoof found its way to between her legs?
>Had her heat snuck up on her?
>Octavia sat there for a moment, before shrugging and grinding her hoof against her clit.
>May as well get it over with now.
>The pleasure rocketed up her spine, and she gasped.
>The letter she'd discarded sat on the desk.
>Picking it up again, Octavia scanned over it.
>To her joy, it went into detail about what the writer would do to a slutty little pony like her.
>It was going to be a long night, and if anyone asked, she was making music for the entirety of it.

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Why are there never any happy Octavia greens? They always have to be mindfuckingly sad and that displeases me

>>30391678
I could write a happy one for you, if you want, but I just don't know what to make it about.

>>30390664
this one tugs on my heart strings

>>30391590
this one tugs on my benis strings

bls continue

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Chav tavi is best tavi

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>>30393080

I want her to break me.

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>>30393140

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>>30393389

I want to suck on Octavia's clitoris and finger her until she passes out from pleasure.

>>30393080
This is the most beautiful mare in Equestria.

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>>30393692

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>>30394332
SHARIA DON'T LIKE IT

ROCK THE CASBAH, ROCK THE CASBAH

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>>30394502

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>>30394792

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>>30395176

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>>30395587

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>>30395814

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>>30395982

>>30391678
I like the ones that are sad but have sweet happy endings

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>>30396303

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>>30396603
bimp bump

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>>30396603
God damn it I won't be able to get that out of head

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>>30397223
Out of my head* what is grammar

>>30396899
I want to ask her how she plays and then play with her and then make fun of her because no matter how hard she tries she will always suck.
I want her to eventually give up and throw down the controller and stare at her useless hooves dejectedly.

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>>30378312
I bet none of you faggots can even read sheet music or play an instrument can you ?

>>30397333
I would play a gentle piano accompaniment whenever she practices just to annoy her.

>>30397333
Can you?

>>30397333
She wouldn't be my waifu if I couldn't, ya bloo'y ponce.

Have a goodnight bump, pretty donk

>>30397333
it's not like i have to become her

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>>30396899

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>>30400711

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>>30400964

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>>30401099

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>>30401338

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>>30401689

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>>30401874

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>>30402148

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>>30402811
i need more pictures. i'm considering scrapping all the octavia pictures form derpibooru desu

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>>30403152

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>>30403503

bumpis

>>30403896
Octavia is definitely a depressed alcoholic.

So, I've been off the ride for a couple months. Did Teegray ever come back? Or was it another dead green?

>>30403896
>Stupid anon, kissing me like that

>>30378312
What do you think her bow tie smells like?

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>>30408010
Horse and cheap wine.

http://imgur.com/PC8ZV2u

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>>30406112

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>>30408098

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>>30408183

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>>30408548

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>>30408679

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>>30409136

>>30381689

>>30388693

>>30409843
i cannot unsee that is one of her back legs

>>30405088

>>30397333
I can... I make music!
https://tkrico.bandcamp.com/album/ip3jlv-ldwo-no-ss-w

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>>30409773

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>>30410444

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>>30410759

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>>30411576

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How lewd is Octavia? Is she reserved or straightforward about lewdness?

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>>30413465
She's mostly reserved, but every couple of months comes down with an overpowering, unstoppable need to breed, made stronger by her Earth Pony body, in which she needs to confine herself or risk jumping on the first stallion she sees.

>>30413465
Reserved.
Reserved like a real lad:
Until the door is locked.

>>30409843
More adventures of Britbong Octavia when?

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I'm kind of hoping she'll make at least a background appearance in the movie. Given that's she's basically a product of the fandom I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they'll pander a bit

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>>30414433
Vinyl made an appearance in the trailer, I'm sure they'll get here in there from time to time

>>30411576
>>30413640
What is it about pones in legwear that makes them so appealing?

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>>30414800
Octavia also made an appearance in the trailer, silly.

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>>30415967
Fuck me, didn't even notice her.

>>30416867
cute

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I want to cuddle with those two music horses.

>>30411804

bunp

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>>30414433
>double dubs
She has to be in the movie.
>product of the fandom
DYEWTS?
>pander
Copyright law has it that fandom works are off-limits for show creators. I wished the makers of FiM had thrown out the writers of episode 100 fiasco upon hearing they'd browse fan sites. The only good thing coming from that episode was the DJ being a mute.

>>30418829
Mate, we already know she is: >>30415967

>>30418829
>episode 100
>fiasco
You do not know what you're talking about. Slice of Life was an order from Hasbro and Discovery Family, specifically to be a fandom-tribute episode. The guy who wrote the thing, a literally-who by the name of M. A. Larson, thought it was a bad idea initially.

>>30418154
best hat horse

>>30418806

>>30419725

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>>30420266
At least fucking bump with pictures or something

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>>30420833
Picture Volume is unmounted atm, have my faggish pony.town pone instead

>>30418829
good to see I'm not the only one.

>>30378312
Bad money is sronger than good money.

>>30421041

>>30424608

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Im

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just

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bumping

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with

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pics

and now I bump without pics. Sorry m8s.

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>>30426238

>>30378312
Which artist makes excellent content of Ocatvia?

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>>30426897
this one is good

>>30427179
whose the artist?

>>30427252
why would people plow a donkey?

>>30427254
NCMares iirc

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>>30427284
because she cute

>>30427559
The signature is right there.

>>30427284
Why would people not plow a healthy, fertile, and classy earth pony mare?

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I like this mare.

>>30381746
how about we post ALL Octavia greentext we can find-
of course we can't find every single one she's in, but at least it's more than posting our favourite ones.

>>30431969

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>>30433118

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>>30434209

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>>30434620

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>>30435047

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Do you have cello horse merch?

>>30435524
I wish...
I'm working on it though

Bamp

>>30435524
I have a plush, a foam cutout, several buttons, some commissioned traditional art, some prints, and a few other trinkets.

Working on getting a daki

>>30378312
No kidding, I was thinking about naming my daughter Octavia bc it sounds like a good Roman name and kinda fancy. If in name here this image is make her watch mlp and tell her that made this character bc of her and hope she pics up music

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>>30428878

>>30380509
Where do u study senpai

>>30438163

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>>30440421

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>>30440957

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>>30441817

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>>30442302

>>30439435
Teetees

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>>30438561
thought about this as well, as I've become rather fond of that name for obvious reasons
>>30435524
small figure, pic related, and that's about it really need to get more.
>>30432512
I'll see if I can post some of the stories I enjoy when I get time.

>>30442437

>>30439435
You are not worthy.

>>30443604

I want to suckle Octavia's teat while she's on stage.

>>30445867

>>30447665

>>30448352

>With a screech of wood on concrete, the cab grinds to a halt
>Gingerly, you step out, clutching your guitar case tightly against your body
>You pass the driver a handful of bits without bothering to look back at him
>Instead, your attention is focused on the monolithic structure in front of you
>"Quarter Note's Fine Dining and Cocktail Lounge," one of the top spots for music in all of Canterlot
>And you're here for tryouts
>You saw an ad in the paper last week, saying they were looking for a new main act for Thursday nights
>"Any style is accepted, provided it fits the sophisticated atmosphere we strive to cultivate."
>You play mostly folk music from back on Earth, which you hope will be "sophisticated" enough for them
>As per the instructions in the paper, you head around back, and are greeted by a shades-wearing pony bouncer
>He looks you over, and you see his eyebrows raise quizzically behind his shades
>"The heck are you, kid? Some kinda monkey minotaur?"
"I'm a… yeah, whatever, let's go with that."
>"Okay, pal. I wouldn't get too hopeful about your chances, looking like that."
"Gotcha. Can I go in?"
>The stallion waves you in, and you flip him off as soon as his back is turned

>You follow a short flight of stairs up to messy backstage area, all of which is lit in a soft white glow from lamps along the walls
>All manner of ponies, carrying all kinda of instruments, fill the room
>You feel out-of-place, and incredibly conspicuous, given how you tower over everyone in the room
>Ponies turn to look at you as you step inside, some even put hooves to their mouths in shock
>News of your arrival was spread by newspaper, but few ponies have actually seen the alien visitor up close
>Trying your best to act casual, you lean against the wall next to a bearded green stallion carrying a set of bagpipes
>He looks you over, and you notice that his face is rugged and scarred, an unusual sight for this peaceful cartoon land
>"What's in the case, lad?"

>You flip it open, and display the soft wood finish and shimmering silver strings of your guitar
>He whistles
>"Mighty fine piece ya got there. Can only hope it sounds as good as it looks, hmm?"
"Yeah. I hope so. Sometimes I feel like I spend more time polishing the thing than I do playing it."
>The bearded pony laughs, the sound is warm and friendly and calms your nerves slightly
>"I'm sure you'll do fine. Not like it matters in th' end, though. I hear *she's* here."
"She? Who's she?"
>"Oh, right, forgotten you're not from around here already. Well, let's just say 'you'll know her when you see her.' I hear she refused to even wait with the rest of us."
"Huh. Well… I guess we'll just have to try, eh?"
>"Right, lad. Try as hard as ya please, but don't hope for too much."
>Just then, an orangish mare with her mane pinned in a tight gold bun enters the room
>She clears her throat loudly, and begins
>"Welcome, every…pony."
>She looks at you strangely before continuing
>"We will be beginning tryouts shortly. Please line up in an orderly and professional manner, and we will get this under way."
>Every pony in the room shuffles towards the center, evening themselves out into a rough approximation of a line
>Most of them barge in front of you, and you end up dead last
>You'd complain, but at least now you have more time to think
>Who was that bearded pony talking about?
>You know there's some famous, and incredibly talented, musicians in Equestria, but you can't imagine any of them needing to try out for a spot like this
>Racking your brains, you search for any clue as to whom you might be up against
>The line moves slowly, as ponies disappear through double doors at the end of the room, presumably to perform
>Your nerves become more and more frayed as you near those double doors, a queasy, fluttery sensation brewing in your guts
>You try to focus on what the bearded pony said
>If that famous pony really is here, then you probably have no chance

>So what does it matter?
Just go out there and play, no holds barred
>If they're impressed, then great
>If not, well, what have you lost? Just an afternoon
>Slightly calmed, you watch a unicorn levitate their harp through the double doors
>You're only about ten ponies away from performing

>Your zen is starting to fade once your turn comes
>The orange mare, now incredibly bored-looking, waves you through, muttering an unenthusiastic "good luck"
>You step through the double doors, through a short, cramped, dark hallway and through a small sheet of curtains
>The stagelights blind you at first, but your eyes adjust quickly as you gaze out into the theater
>The dinner tables and chairs are stacked neatly against the walls, and the dance floor is empty, save for three suited ponies
>One of them, a mare, looks up from her clipboard at you
>"Name?"
"Anonymous."
>Each pony scribbles on their own clipboard, before turning their attention to you
>"Whenever you're ready."
>You notice a stool positioned on the edge of the stage, and pull is over, before bending down to unclasp your guitar case
>The instrument shines in the stage lights, and the strings seem to glow white hot under the glare
>Tentatively, you strum a chord
>A single note warbles out of place, and adjust the tuning peg slightly, reigning it back in
>The chords fades, and you take a deep breath, steadying your nerves and mentally preparing yourself for the task
>You give the judges one last glance, and begin
>The song you picked is fairly simple in structure, but engaging in rhythm
>Your left hand shifts back and forth from one chords to the next, sliding easily up and down the guitar's neck
>Meanwhile, your right hand dances over the strings, plucking them and occasionally adding a flourish to each chord, giving your song a powerful, dynamic feel
>After a few bars, you feel confident you have the judges' attention, and you allow your voice to join in

>You've never been a great singer, and you warble around each note, straining to be heard over the chorus issuing from your guitar
>And just as soon as it's begun, you strike the final chord, and the song ends
>You're breathing hard, sweating, and your throat hearts
>The judges pause to scribble in their clipboards
>"Thank you, Mr. Anonymous. Please clear the stage for the next performer."
>Somewhat disappointed by their lack of enthusiasm, you re-encase your guitar, and slide off the stage, making your way to the back of the room
>However, instead of leaving, you creep around to the stacks of tables, leaning against them in the shadows and watching the stage
>You want to see who this Mystery Pony is
>A minute of silence passes before the sound of hoofsteps rings through the room
>They grow louder, and louder, until a pony emerges from stage left, crossing to stand in the center of the spotlights
>Her coat is sleek and gray, and her mane is black as night, perfectly trimmed, spilling down her back to end in a curl at her wither
>She is clad only in a simple bowtie worn around her neck
>She carries herself with utmost precision, and grace, and keeps her eyes shut, her nose turned up, as if to reinforce the idea that she's too good for this place
>You're… kinda captivated
>You've never seen this much presence in a cartoon horse before
>"Name?"
>One of the judges asks
>"You already know it."
>The gray pony's accent is perfectly measured, and vaguely British, and her voice has a regal, yet slightly singsong quality to it

>Another pony, a burly white stallion with a prim, feminine haircut, carries a black case out, setting it down behind the musician pony
>She nods in his direction, finally opening her eyes
>They're violet, and sparkle with a fierce intelligence
>You're starting to see why everyone holds her in such high respect
>She unlocks the case, revealing an ornate cello and bow, which she stands in front of herself, taking up the bow in her hoof
>"Begin."
>The gray pony closes her eyes, and waits
>The room falls so silent, you can hear the sound of cabs rushing by outside
>And then, slowly, the pony begins to play
>The sound is beyond beautiful, somehow both ephemeral and physical, careful notes dropping like gossamer threads across the room
>The gray pony stands perfectly still and relaxed, drawing her bow easily across the strings as her hoof slides amongst the strings with perfect muscle memory
>Your own performance seems laughable in comparison
>You don't recognize the song, but it seems to strike you with some sense of familiarity, an almost nostalgic quality as she plays
>By the time the song finishes, you can't help but clap along with the judges
>The gray pony doesn't even bother to bow, instead she returns her instrument to its case, and struts off stage

bumb

>>30451075

File: goodnight tavi.png (387KB, 1200x941px) Image search: [Google]

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goodnight bump

>>30452157
Who the hell is groping her, Trixie?

>>30452888

>>30454273

>>30454943

>ywn be Octavia

>>30455980
sadface

>>30449454
>The radiance of her performance has left you feeling light-headed
>Setting your guitar case down, you lean against the wall, trying to process what you just witnessed
>You've never heard music like that in your entire life, and something about this pony…
>Something about her is absolutely stunning
>You don't even have the words to express it
>As soon as she disappears from sight, the judges disperse, each heading for a different exit
>A wiry, hipster-looking pony with a beret and a goatee heads toward you
>You flag him down, and he stares at you quizzically
>"Hmm? Somethin' wrong, man?"
"No, just… who was that, just now? She didn't say her name."
>"'Who was that?' You mean you've never heard of Octavia Melody before, man? What are you from, like, the moon, or something?"
>He chuckles at his own little joke, before continuing
>"She only, like, one of the fastest-growing, most-recognized talents in all of Canterlot, man. Honestly, I'm surprised she actually tried out, y'know? It's not like we can say no to talent like hers."
>You thank the hipster pony for the info, and duck out the door
>Outside, dusk has fallen over the city, and only a few of the musician ponies remain, chatting idly amongst themselves
>You don't see any sign of… wait, there she is
>Octavia steps out a door on the far end of the club, her muscular assistant in tow, and the pair begins to head down the street away from you
>You follow them, careful to keep your distance, but still close enough to hear the two of them speaking
>The stallion is talking now, his voice surprisingly high-pitched for a such a large horse
>"…could tell the judges had never seen anything like it. Honestly 'Tavi, I'm surprised you settle for places like this."
>Octavia replies, her voice colored by an unexpectedly playful tone
>"Oh, believe me, these little clubs are only the first step. As soon as we have our connections, it'll be on to the Equestria-wide tours."
>The stallion chuckles

>>30457518
>"Now that's what I like to hear."
>He pauses, and you see him suddenly slap his forehead
>"My book! I left it back in the club! You go on ahead, I'll catch up later."
>He wheels around, and begins running back towards you
>You duck into a stairwell until he passes, before resuming your pursuit of Octavia
>She's walking by herself now, cello case perched precariously on her back
>You approach her slowly, trying your best to fix your shirt and hair
"Hey. Need some help carrying that?"
>She stops, and sizes you up
>"No. I can manage."
>Octavia continues on her way, eyes focused straight ahead
>You follow along, behind her and slightly to her right
"That was an amazing performance back there. I've never seen anyone play quite like you did."
>"That's good to know."
>Her voice has lost the playful quality form when she was with the muscular stallion
>In fact, she's downright chilly
"So, uh… think you got the gig?"
>She looks at you like you just asked about her estrus cycle
>"What do you think?"
"Well, you never know, there was some pretty stiff competition…"
>"Like who, you and your little toy?"
"Hey! It's not a toy!"
>"Hmph. An instrument so simple, it might as well be. If you ever wish to be taken seriously as a musician, I'd recommend mastering something no designed for uneducated hicks. And I'd also recommend not leaving your instrument behind after a show."
"Behind? What do you…?"
>Suddenly, you realize that you're missing the familiar weight of your guitar case in your hand
>Without another word to the patronizing gray pony, you spin and sprint back towards Qarter Note's

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>>30397333
I played the viola. Ya I know I'm a faggot

>>30455972

>>30458602

>>30401874
Döner Horse ; -)

File: 901444__safe_oc_scootaloo_trixie_princess+cadance_artist+needed_octavia+melody_source+needed_oc-colon-anon_harem.png (536KB, 1361x1341px) Image search: [Google]

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RIP this green and the author
;_;

>>30459186

>>30459186

>>30457522
>It takes a good ten minutes of arguing with the bouncer to get him to let you back in
>By then, ponies are already setting up the main room for tonight's even, bustling past each other as they drag tables and chairs into position
>You duck in and grab your guitar case, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, and duck back out
>Strangely enough, you didn't run into the burly stallion from earlier; didn't he say he was going back here?

>The walk back to your apartment is lonely, and tiring
>Octavia's words run in circles through your head, to the point where you can almost feel her taunting you
>For such an amazing artist… she's really kind of a bitch
>'Your little toy...'
>With no avenue for release, your anger bubbles and simmers in your gut, turning every step you take into a nuisance
>When you finally reach your apartment, you don't even bother flicking the lights on
>You just toss your guitar onto your couch, and flop down into your bed
>Your performance, and the walk home, have left you exhausted and jelly-limbed, but your troubled mind makes sure that it's a long time before you sleep

>Next morning, you wake feeling not terribly rested, and head to the kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast
>Your pantry is pretty much barren, only a loaf of a bread and half a jar of peanut butter
>Looks like it's gonna be toast then
>You cook yourself up a piece, plop it on a plate, and head into your office
>By "office," you mean the corner of your bedroom where you shoved a cheap wooden desk
>It's littered with papers, all of them scribbled over with lyrics, chord progressions, unfinished ideas for songs
>One the far edge lies a stack of vinyl records of your first full album
>They haven't been selling terribly well, but the money from record sales and gigs has been at least enough to get you this small apartment
>You were really hoping to get that gig at Quarter Note's…

File: IMG_4986.jpg (85KB, 960x674px) Image search: [Google]

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>>30463298
Jeff-sama is back

>>30463298
>Damn gray cello horse mucking up your plans
>You munch absentmindedly on your toast as you try to brainstorm new ideas
>Your last record was a lot of peppy, upbeat folk songs
>Maybe you should change it up for the next one; go slower, and a bit sadder
>You've never been one for sad songs, though
>Still, if it'll keep food on your table…
>After two hours of chewing on a pencil, you only have two lines of lyrics completed
/I gave birth to twin wire hangovers
And now I am a personal space invader/
>What the hell does that even mean?
>You crumple the paper up, and heave it over your shoulder, before slumping face first onto your desk
>You didn't really get a lot of sleep last night…
>Maybe you could just catch a few z's right here…
>*tap tap tap*
>Dammit, can't they see you're trying to sleep?
>*TAP TAP TAP TAP*
"Alright, alright, I'm coming*
>You slide groggily out of your seat, and cross the apartment to the front door, pulling it open
>The gray, cross-eyed mailpony is waiting out there, smiling as brightly as ever with a letter clutched in her hooves
>"For you, Mr. Anon!"
>You take the letter from her, rubbing your eyes before examining it
>It's from Quarter Note's…
>Eh, probably just a form rejection
>"Looks like it's from someone important, doesn't it?"
>The mailpony is still grinning at you
"Yeah. Someone real important…"
>"Well, I gotta get going. See you around, Mr. Anon!"
>The mail pony zips away, flying in a bizarre zigzag pattern across the cityscape
>You really need to learn her name…

>>30463402
>Back inside, you tear the envelope open, and slide its contents out
/Mr. Anonymous:

We regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you a position as the Thursday-night act…/
>Figures, you knew you weren't getting in
>Still, for whatever reason, you read on
/...however, your tryout has impressed our establishment, and we would like to extend an offer to you to perform as an opening act. You will be given an hour before the main event in which to play. Please contact us soon if you wish to accept this offer.

-Quarter Note's Fine Dining and Cocktail Lounge, Management/
>Holy shit
>You're almost lightheaded with excitement
>Sure, it's not as good as having the night all to yourself…
>But even an opening act at this place is sure to do great shit for your career
>Even if you'll have to see Octavia again…
>Actually, the letter doesn't list who the main act will be, but it's not too hard to guess
>Hell, even putting up with her is worth is for a gig like this

>Back in your bedroom, you lift up your mattress and remove your bag of savings, pouring a handful of bits out into your hand
>You don't have much right now, but you hear Quarter Note's pays pretty well
>And this is too good of news not to celebrate
>Back in the kitchen, you pick up the phone, and dial in the number of your best different-species bro
>You hear the phone being picked up on the other end, followed by Soarin's voice, sounding like he just woke up
>Fucking bump
>"Hello…?"
"Guess who got the job?"
>"Anon? Job, what… Oh! That job! Congratulations, man!"
"I know, right? One week from today, Imma be playing one of the biggest clubs in Canterlot."
>"That's great, man. So… we celebratin'?"
"Hell yeah."
>"The usual?"
"You got it."
>"Alright, see ya then."
>The phone clicks down on the other end, probably because Soarin rolled over to go back to sleep
>You're too happy to even be annoyed by that
>Your music is finally going somewhere!

File: Rain.png (1MB, 800x1066px) Image search: [Google]

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>>30463326
m8 I truly wish I were Jeff, or at least possessed his skills

>>30463420
I don't know who you think you're fooling.

>>30463409
Jeff please come back to the incest thread we miss you,
Also really loving the Octy green so far.

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>>30465407
Pretty sure this is an old green.
But yes, we do miss him

>>30465407
i enjoy this green and the incest coco green he's writing
i honestly hope he didn't just up and decide to quit writing the coco green
things might get ugly fast

bumpis

>>30464875
these people apparently >>30465407
>>30463326

>>30463409
>Eight o'clock rolls around, and you put on your best casual clothes, and head out into the cool, clean Canterlot evening
>A few blocks from your house lies your favorite drinking spot in all of Equestria: Hook and Talon, a griffon-run bar with a great atmosphere
>It looks a little out-of-place, sandwiched as it is between a beauty parlor and a high-end bookstore
>Still, that claw-shaped neon sign out front brings back so many blurry memories…
>The after-work crowd is just beginning to show up: a few ponies leaning on the bar, chatting over mugs of frothy beer
>Soarin is late, as usual, so you grab a booth in the corner for the two of you
>You settle back against the cushioned seat, gazing at the window at the quaint city life as you listen to the candy-sweet sound of pony pop music
>The sound of the door opening reaches your ears, and you look over to the front of the tavern, expecting to see Soarin
>Instead, a muscular, familiar-looking white stallion steps inside
>You recognize him as the pony who was with Octavia last night
>Two other ponies, both young mares, and both incredibly attractive by pony standards, follow him in
>His girly haircut draws stares and snickers from the other ponies, but only when he's not looking
>The stallion leads his mares to the bar, and raps his hoof against its wooden surface
>Gerald, the elderly griffon barkeep, pops up as if from nowhere, holding a glass and a stained dishrag in his claws
>"Evening sir. What can I get you?"
>"Hmm, yes. How about you go ahead and whip me up a…"
>He goes on to list a drink order than sounds more like an organic chemistry lecture than a beverage
>"You can do that, of course, can't you?"
>He grins smugly at Gerald, who looks sweaty and uncomfortable
>"Well, I'm not really familiar with…"
>"Not familiar? Oh, isn't that a shame?"
>His grin widens, and the mares on either side of him snicker
>"We'll just take cosmopolitans then, for the three of us. You can manage that, can't you?"

>>30467639
>Gerald nods, obviously eager to get out of there
>Immediately, you feel a deep sense of loathing for the muscled bishi
>"Anon? You okay, man?"
>You look over to see Soarin standing next to your booth, still wearing his Wonderbolts uniform
>God, what a dork
"Heh, yeah, I'm fine."
>Your pegasus buddy slides in across from you, picking up a menu and listing off choices
>You only half-listen, still staring across the room at the muscled stallion
>The mares on either side of him continue laughing at whatever he says, one of them leaning up against his side
>"Anon? You listening to me?"
>You nod, tearing your attention away from girly-hair and back towards Soarin
>The two of you shoot the shit about your lives, him going on about the difficulties of working with Spitfire, while you talk about your music, and the tryout last night
>For whatever reason though, you neglect to mention your conversation with Octavia
>"So you got the gig? It's a definite thing now?"
"Looks that way. Just gotta show up, do my thing, and hopefully get asked back."
>"That's great, man. I'm kinda envious, really."
"Envious? How would you be--"
>You're cut off by a pony stepping up to your booth
>"Excuse me, sirs."
>Looking up, you see the white stallion from earlier, a mare at either side of him, and an incredibly haughty look plastered across his face
>He gestures to Soarin
>"I couldn't help but notice... is that Wonderbolts uniform you're wearing?"
>Soarin looks down at his clothes
>"Um... yeah?"
>The stallion extends a hoof
>"My name is Andante Giardo. I'm a talent promoter here in Canterlot."
>Soarin awkwardly shakes his hoof, clearly trusting the guy just about as much as you do
>Which is to say, not at all
>You've always been suspicious of people who smile that easily

>>30467657
>"If you were ever thinking about moving away from the Wonderbolts, maybe to achieve some real celebrity status of your own, I've been thinking of making my bid in some of the Equestria-wide single races. Interested?"
>Soarin's mouth opens and closes, soundlessly
>He withdraws his hoof
>"I'll think about it."
>"Please do."
>With a final, self-assured grin at the both of you, he trots away, silver curls bouncing around his neck
>"What the hay was up with that? Do you know that guy?"
"Nope."
>You watch him disappear out the door, mares leaning on his withers, and can't help but feel a pang of jealousy imagining Octavia on him like that
>Which makes no sense, because you want nothing to do with that stuck-up bitch, right?
>"Anon, you really gotta stop zoning out on me, man."

*********

>A few hours of bachelor debauchery later, you stumble up the stairs to your apartment, and collapse in bed
>Your head is spinning pretty badly from the alcohol, but you're still too excited about your good news to sleep
>So, in lieu of anything better to do, you grab your guitar and begin to compose, strumming aimless arpeggios as weird, nonsensical lyrics spin through your head

*********

>You wake the next with a slight headache, curled up like a lover next to your guitar
>And you must have done something right last night, because you suddenly find yourself filled with inspiration
>Hastily grabbing a stack of paper and your single working pen, you set out to writing
>You can't remember the last time music came this easily to you
>Lyrics seem to write themselves, falling out in neat little rhyming couplets on your page, matching perfectly to your favorite chord progressions
>By the time lunchtime rolls around, you've already got the bones of a new song written out
>You just wonder where the inspiration came from...

>>30467664
>After all, you've gotten drunk with Soarin plenty of times, and never woken up the next morning feeling like the next Jeff Mangum
>Maybe it was the news from Quarter Note's?
>Or maybe it was watching *her* play...
>Nope, nope
>Now is not the time for thinking of arrogant music horses
>Now is the time for Anon to be a genius
>After scarfing down a thin sandwich, you head back to your room to finish your song

*********

>The pattern continues for the next week
>Wake up, breakfast, compose, lunch, compose, dinner, listen to some other music, compose, bed
>Aside from Derpy's occasional mail deliveries, you don't see or hear another pony the entire week
>But damn, do you make some music
>By the time the day of your gig rolls around, you've got ten new songs written, enough to release another album of your own
>And, hopefully, enough to wow tonight's audience
>Your nerves have that jittery, electric feeling coursing through them from the minute you wake up, and you spend most of the day obsessively practicing, working your fingers raw as you ensure that every song will go perfectly
>Because you wouldn't want to mess up in front of her...
>In front of anyone, you mean
>Because you don't care what bitchy music ponies think about you
>You're gonna go out, wow the audience, and get your career on the road
>No matter what Oct-- she thinks

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bump for best mudpony

>>30468527
cute pic

If any of you would like to join in we're making a picture for your waifu. Template's in the OP. >>30468806

>>30465127

>>30469296
working on it

File: tavi sprite.png (3KB, 102x102px) Image search: [Google]

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>>30469762
Thanks Anon. Have the 1:1 for your collection.

>>30469589

>>30471053

>>30471551

>>30467669
>Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at your front door
>Opening it reveals Derpy hovering just outside, mailbag slung over her withers, and a big, doofy smile on her face
>"Good afternoon, Mr. Anon!"
"Hey Derpy. Got something for me?"
>The gray pony shakes her head
>"Nope! I just wanted to wish you good luck on your big day!"
>Right, you forgot you mentioned that to her
"Oh. Thanks."
>Derpy reaches out and clumsily pats you on the head
>"I know you'll do super great! Make sure you tell me how it went tomorrow!"
"Of course."
>Despite your nerves, you force a smile for the mailpony, before she turns and flies away
>You return to your guitar, but your hands are shaking too much for you to play properly
>Letting out a deep breath, you lean back in your chair, trying to calm yourself
>It's just a gig...
>It's not like this is your first time performing in front of people, or ponies
>Sure, this is probably one of the biggest gigs of your career so far, but what difference does that make?
>Just go out and do your thing
>However, as much as you try, you can't seem to convince yourself to calm down
>You decide to go for a walk instead, pulling on your shoes and stepping out into the Canterlot streets

>The city is as upbeat and fancy as ever, with multicolored, overdresses ponies hustling to-and-fro between quaint, gaudy storefronts
>As usual, you attract a fair number of stairs from the populace, but you've learned to ignore it at this point

>>30473061
>A few blocks down from your house, you reach your destination: a shopfront that stands in stark contrast to the others
>Where the rest of the street of the street is covered in pastel colors and pristine white walls, the store before you is constructed from dark red brick, with various bands' posters papering every window
>There isn't even a sign outside; the place doesn't need to distinguish itself
>You step inside, darkness meeting your eyes and the scent of incense tickling your nostrils
>Rows of wooden shelves form a maze around you, each stuffed precariously with records still in their packaging
>"Can I help you?"
>A groggy female voice sounds out from the darkness, and an alabaster unicorn sporting a spiky, electric-blue mane steps into view
>"Oh. Hey Anon."
"Hey Vinyl. What's up?"
>"Eh..."
>She rubs her forehead
"The usual, huh?"
>"Aw, shut up."
>She leans against one of the shelves, rubbing her eyes
>"So, you lookin' for somethin', or can I go back to sleep?"
>You shake your head, running a thump across a row of records, reading the names on their spines
"I'm just killin' time. Got a big show tonight."
>"Sounds great. Watch the store for me for an hour or two, will ya?"
>Vinyl saunters off around the corner, and you hear a soft thump as she slops down onto one of the beanbag chairs that are randomly scattered throughout the place
>That horse...
>You pull out an interesting-looking record, and scan the cover
>'Huey Lewis and the Neighs'
>Eh, how bad could it be?
>You find a working turntable in the back of the store, and put the album on

>>30473117
>It's... pleasant, you guess
>About as pleasant as pun-based pony rock can be
>The store remains empty as Vinyl snoozes away in the corner, and you slowly watch the afternoon pass into evening through the poster covered windows
>By the time 5 o'clock rolls around, you return the stack of records you listened to, and head back to your apartment
>After a quick shower, you pull on your best clothes, and grab your guitar case
>Chilling at Vinyl's place helped calm your nerves a little, and you've even got a little bit of confidence coursing through your veins as you flag down a cab

>The cab pulls up neatly in front of Quarter Note's, and you make your way around to the backstage entrance
>The bouncer eyes you over, clearly surprised
>"Well, what do we have here? I didn't think you'd make it, last time I saw you."
>You shrug your shoulders
"Neither did I, really. But hey, crazier things have happened, eh?"
>"Guess so."
>The bouncer waves you in, ending the conversation

>Inside, the backstage room looks much the same as you remember it, only a lot less crowded
>Which is to say, you're the only one here
>Several plush armchairs are scattered throughout the room; you grab one and sit down, resting your guitar case against your knees
>You're stuck in that awkward phase of having nothing to do but wait, drumming your fingers against your cases shell to keep the silence from driving you crazy
>Fortunately, the orange-ish mare from last week trots into the room, clipboard clasped in her mouth
>She removes it when she sees you
>"Good, you're here. Finally. Where's the other one?"
"The other... I don't know."
>The orange-ish pone gives an exasperated sigh
>"Ugh! Supposedly one of the greatest musicians in Canterlot, and she can't even bother showing up on time? How disgustingly unprofessional."
>She snorts, and grimaces

>>30473121
>As if on cue, Octavia trots through the doorway behind you, eyes closed and muzzle upturned, with her lush black mane swaying at her withers
>The white stallion, Andante, you think his name was, follows closely behind her, the cello case strapped along his side
>Slowly, the pair stroll into the room, positioning themselves in front of you and the orange-ish mare before Octavia opens her eyes
>And she doesn't look too happy to see you
>"You? What are you doing here?"
"I'm opening."
>"Opening? For me? You can't be serious."
>She glances between you and the orange-ish mare, as if expecting to be let in on the joke
>The mare just sneers at her
>"Perfectly serious. Now, if you would please hurry up and make yourself ready, we have a show to run in only half an hour!"
>"Hurry up? Do you know who you're talking to?"
>"I do, in fact. And if you want to make it in the showbiz world, I suggest you learn to act like a professional."
>She puts a weird emphasis on the word 'professional,' but her rant seems to shut Octavia up
>The gray mare looks positively enraged now, but the orange-ish pony next to you pays her no heed, instead spinning around, and walking briskly through the door
>As soon as she's disappeared, Octavia explodes
>"Gah! Who does she think she is! As if she knows anything about the performing arts!"
>She throws herself into a chair and sits there, pouting with her forelegs crossed
>After the haughty attitude you'd seen before, her reaction is somewhat surprising
>Andante crosses the room to stand beside her, leaning the cello case up against the wall
>"Don't listen to her. I'm gonna go scope out the crowd, see if there's anyone out there we need to impress. I left the cello over there. You'll make me proud, right?"
>He wraps a foreleg and Octavia, who returns his hug with a bit more enthusiasm than you'd expect
>"I always do, don't I?"
>You look away form the tender moment, face hot with embarrassment
>...and maybe a little jealousy

>>30473125
>Andante exits, and you and Octavia are left alone
>The gray pony seems to avoid looking at you, a troubled scowl etched into her face
>Slowly, you cross the room, and take a seat a few feet from her
>She still doesn't look at you, but her ears perk up at your approach
>You twiddle your thumbs for a minute or two, trying to think of something to say
"Man. What a bitch, huh?"
>Octavia doesn't respond
"So... what're you gonna play tonight?"
>She turns to you, and gives a look like you just asked her the stupidest thing imaginable
>"I will be playing some of my more famous compositions. Because unlike *some* performers here, I actually have a reputation to maintain."
"A reputation for being late?"
>Anger flashes briefly across her face, but Octavia quickly returns to her composed, haughty state
>"Hah, cute. It's a pity they didn't hire you as a comedian."
"Who says they didn't? I could be a professional clown, for all you know. Maybe you're just not in on the act."
>Octavia rolls her eyes
>"I can admit, being a clown would suit you better."
"Oho, really? Alright then, how about we make a little wager?"
>"Wager? Please. What could I have to gain by gambling with you?"
"It's not about the gain. It's about having a little fun. Don't tell me you don't know how to have fun, now."
>"I have no need of 'fun,' right now. I'm here to perform, and that's it."
"No need of fun? To me it just sounds like you're scared you'll lose."
>"I'm not! How could I lose a competition to the likes of you? I just don't feel like trifling with such silly things!"
"You sound awfully worked up about this."
>"I am not...!"
>Octavia takes a deep breath
>"Okay, fine. You want to challenge Octavia Melody? Have it your way. What sort of wager do you have in mind?"

>>30473145

>You grin slyly at her, putting more confidence into your face than you're currently feeling
"Simple. At the end of the night, we ask the crowd which of us they liked best."
>Octavia blinks in surprise
>"That's it? Ha. And here I thought you were actually going to challenge me. So, what'll I get when I win?"
>You stand up, positioning yourself in front of her
"I was thinking the loser would have to buy the winner's entire discography."
>"So, money then? That's pretty boring. I think the look on your face will be satisfying enough."
>You inch closer towards her, she rises up in her chair as if to challenge you
"What's that? You're gettin' satisfaction from my face now? Didn't know you liked me so much, Ms. Melody."
>"Don't try to act cute. It won't make me go any easier on you."
"Oh, you won't need to worry about tha--"
>"You! Anon! You're on in five minutes! Hurry up!"
>Orange-ish mare's voice interrupts your face-off with Octavia, bringing you back to your senses
>Your face is inches away from hers, staring angrily into her violet eyes, your nose inches away form her snout
>The heat of her breath tickles your nostrils
>Embarrassed, you pull back
>Octavia does the same, and you notice a bit of a red flush has crept into her cheeks
>Trying your best to avoid looking at the gray mare, you grab your guitar case and head out onto the stage
>Strangely, arguing with Octavia has actually calmed your nerves a little, and your fingers are perfectly steady as your tune your instrument
>A curtain separates you from the crowd, but you can hear ponies chatting and bustling about on the other side
>It sounds pretty busy, especially for a thursday

>>30473180
>A hush comes over the pony crowd as the PA crackles to life, and a smooth, chocolatey male voice fills the room
>"Fillies and Gentlecolts! Tonight, we here at Quarter Note's Fine Dining and Cocktail Lounge are pleased to present not one, but two exquisite musical acts! Opening for us tonight is Anonymous, trans-dimensional alien bringing strange yet beautiful music from his dimension to ours. Following him, we have Canterlot's own Octavia Melody, the up-and-coming composer as gorgeous as she is talented. So, sit back, and enjoy the finest music this city has to offer."
>The curtain rises silently up into the ceiling, leaving you staring into stage lights and a crowd of several dozen ponies, all well-dressed and seated at fancy-looking dining tables
>Some of them turn their attention to you, but most continue their conversation or sipping at their drinks
>Slowly, you make your way to the center of the stage, where a short wooden stool stands next to a microphone
>You position yourself on top of the stool, adjusting the mic to rest near your mouth, and remove your guitar from its case
>Your first chords catches the attention of about half the room, the ponies' ears flicking in your direction
>You play slowly at first, letting your chords ring out bright and clear, the room's masterful acoustics carrying ever sound to your audience
>More of the ponies are starting to pay attention now, and even a few of the waiters have slowed down to watch
>Invigorated by their attention, you add your voice to the song, keeping it restrained for now to further lure the ponies in
>The sound of your mellow warble turns yet more heads, and by the time finishes, the whole room has ground to a standstill, every pony's attention fixed on you
>You can't help but smile

>On the next song, you up the intensity, playing the same song you used to wow the judges last week
>You put a powerful amount of emotion into your voice, confidence boosted by your captive audience

>ywn be Octy's bitch

>>30472951
pretty poner give me boner

>>30473187
Oh god I need MAOR

>>30472242

>>30476302

File: 1450467140606.png (90KB, 361x361px) Image search: [Google]

90KB, 361x361px

>>30477021

File: 1481638.png (358KB, 860x625px) Image search: [Google]

358KB, 860x625px

>>30477462