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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
2000–8000
Identity
Octavia closed the door to her patchwork home and sighed. It had become ever easier to navigate the blackness of the dwelling for a while now. She needed to wash the blood off of her muzzle before Vinyl spotted her. She took a timid step and―
The light flickered on revealing her housemate, Vinyl, casting a long shadow across the couch she sat upon. Octavia turned to face her and offered a weak grin.
Vinyl pointed a hoof at the easy chair. “Why don’t you take a seat.”
“Look, I can explain―”
Vinyl shook her head. “I said―” Vinyl’s voice froze the air between them “―why don’t you take a seat.”
“Well, okay,” Octavia said as she nodded meekly and placed herself in the rather comfortable chair. “I just wanted to wash off my muzzle first.” She felt her lungs frost over and looked up at Vinyl. “It’s not equine blood or anything like that―it’s pig’s blood, one of Applejack’s. I was busy ripping into its carcass before Granny Smith chased me off and then I ran away and then I got tired and hid for a bit and snuck my way over here and―”
Vinyl raised a hoof. “Wait a sec. I thought you got these urges under control. I thought this was behind us.”
“You know I can never go backwards,” Octavia said, glaring at her.
“Octavia.” Vinyl threw her head back and grunted. “The therapist said this was supposed to be a phase and he helped you work through it.”
“Well, Vinyl, I thought so, too. But one day I came across a curious book.” She let out a protracted sigh. “I read this rather curious book and found out a curious thing: there are others like me.”
Vinyl pursed her lips. “You mean crazy ponies.”
“We’re not crazy.” Octavia clenched her jaw. “Anyway, I read stories about others that were physically born one way, but felt inherently different.” She started trembling. “Unicorns that knew they were actually pegasi, or earth ponies that identified as griffons. There was one tale about a minotaur that knew since they were young they were a dragon on the inside.” She exhaled. “The point is, I’m not alone.”
“But your case is different.” Vinyl stood up and trotted towards Octavia. “You don’t think you’re any of those.” She put a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “You think you’re a shark.”
Octavia glared at Vinyl. “You’re wrong. I know I’m a shark.”
Vinyl groaned. “We’ve been over this, you’re not a shark―”
“Stop mis-specieing me!” Octavia pushed Vinyl’s hoof off her shoulder. “I was born a shark in a pony’s body and you can’t say otherwise!”
Vinyl stared at Octavia, then buried her face in her hoof. “Look, Octy, I know transspecieism is a thing, but you can’t be a shark. It’s just crazy talk. That’d put you on the same level of Screw Loose at the Ponyville Hospital who thinks she’s a dog.”
“At least she doesn’t lie to anyone about what he is.” Octavia kept her gaze trained on Vinyl.
Vinyl pressed her eyes shut. “Is that what you want? Strapped to a wheelchair because we can’t trust you not to bite ponies? Constant supervision? Is that what you want?”
Octavia looked away. “You wouldn’t understand, you cis-species ungulate.”
“Okay, now I know you’re making things up, because I don’t know what either of those last two words mean.”
“Maybe if you spent less time at children’s parties and around adults, you’d have a more expansive vocabulary.”
Vinyl stared at Octavia and slowly took off her glasses. “Did… did you just call me an idiot?”
Octavia snickered. “If the horseshoe fits.”
Vinyl threw her glasses onto the ground. “Alright, I was prepared to put up with this nonsense about your shark delusions, but insulting my intelligence is where I draw the line!” She pointed towards the door. “I want you out of here by tomorrow.”
“You know what, I’m leaving now. I’ll see if Twilight will take me in.” Octavia leapt to her hooves and left, slamming the door in her wake.
Vinyl grit her teeth and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee. She certainly wasn’t getting any sleep tonight after that confrontation.
She watched the coffee percolate, reflecting on the timeline of Octavia’s “shark thing”. It started on a night not unlike tonight, with Octavia coming home late, her muzzle covered in blood. Vinyl freaked out, asking Octavia who had hit her. Octavia cried for a good hour until she revealed that no, no one had hit her, but there was a poor cow that wasn’t with us anymore.
She recounted to Vinyl that she had been feeling an ever-growing bloodlust past previous seasons, and that very night was the night when it boiled over and she ended the poor heifer’s life with her jaws. Because she was a shark. And everypony knows sharks eat meat that they hunt.
Vinyl suggested therapy. Octavia tearily agreed.
They both met with the therapist for the first session. He explained that he had seen this kind of thing before―ponies thinking they were the wrong species―and that he had had a measure of success curing it.
“Now, Vinyl,” Doctor Carpe Calcium said as he sipped on his tea. “You understand that species curing is a group process, right?”
Vinyl nodded. “Of course, doctor.” She placed her hoof on Octavia’s.
Carpe looked at Octavia. “And a group process involves everypony. Especially the patient.”
Octavia looked the smallest Vinyl had ever seen her as she meekly nodded. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”
Doctor Calcium smiled at both of them. “Okay. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Vinyl rubbed her face as she reminisced about that session, the coffee drips narrating the pregnant silence. It was best to keep busy. She watered down a rag and washed the counters.
She knew it wasn’t going to be like flipping a switch. It wasn’t like Octavia just woke up one morning and decided she was an aquatic apex predator. Signals had been misfiring in her brain since birth. She had decided to ask around in case the therapy didn’t stick.
“So, Twilight,” Vinyl asked as she examined the bookshelves in Golden Oak Library, “let’s say someone thinks they were born the wrong species.”
“Transspecieism,” Twilight said without looking up from her book. “It’s an uncommon phenomenon, but not unheard of.” She flipped a page. “Best course of action is to help the affected realize their desired species.”
Vinyl snapped her head to face Twilight. “But what if they think they’re something dangerous, like a dragon, or―” She almost said shark “―a tiger?”
Twilight looked up, then barked out a laugh. “A tiger? Vinyl, are you crazy? Why would someone want to be a tiger?”
Vinyl tittered. “Yeah, I guess so.” She took a deep breath to collect herself. “But what if?”
Twilight took a deep breath. “Then you better have a lot of meat around, I guess.”
“But there’s no spell that could cure them?” Vinyl walked towards Twilight. “Like a reform spell, or a ‘make me think I’m the right species’ kind of spell?”
“Vinyl.” Twilight shook her head and looked up. “A reform spell would imply that there was something inherently wrong with transspecieism, and as for the second one… they do think they’re the right species. It’s their body they think is the wrong species.” Twilight clucked her tongue. “Besides, brain magic is very dangerous. I’m sure you remember the Want It Need It incident.”
Vinyl shuddered. “Yeah.”
The counters weren’t going to get any cleaner. She decided to start packing up Octavia’s things so Twilight could more easily pick them up. She opened the door to her housemate’s room. Vinyl shuddered.
It was so… orderly. Were sharks known for having obsessive compulsive behavior?
Well, time to get down to business. She rifled through Octavia’s shelves, throwing her things onto the bed until a disheveled pile of clothes made an unsightly lump. She went through the shelves one last time, making sure she didn’t miss anything.
It turned out she had, coming across a diamond-tipped hairpin.
Vinyl remembered this hairpin.
Snow lined the streets of Ponyville as it wafted from the sky, the marvelous show a sight to behold from inside Sugarcube Corner. Octavia and Vinyl had front row seats, each sipping on her own cup of hot chocolate, smiling at each other.
“So, Octy,” Vinyl asked, “how you doing?”
Octavia chortled. “I’m doing quite well. You know that as well as I.” She took a delicate sip.
Vinyl took a sip of her own. “You haven’t had any relapses recently, as far as I know.” Vinyl jovially eyed Octavia down. “Is I right?”
Octavia mocked embarrassment. “You is right. I’ve been a good filly.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, because I wouldn’t be able to give you this otherwise.”
Octavia stared at Vinyl while taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Give me what?”
“Gimme a sec,” Vinyl said, carefully navigating a diamond-tipped hairpin outside of Octavia’s line of sight. “I have to prepare it first,” she said as she deftly slipped it into Octavia’s mane.
“What do you mean, prepare it?” Octavia asked as she took another sip. “This isn’t another ‘musical present’, is it―”
“Hey, guys!” Pinkie showed up at their table. “Do you guys like your hot chocolate?”
Vinyl smirked. “I do. Can’t speak for my friend, here.”
“I quite enjoy this hot chocolate, especially on such a frigid day.”
Pinkie looked at Octavia. “Glad you do! By the way, nice hairpin!” she said before trotting off.
Octavia looked at Pinkie. “But I’m not wearing a hairpin.” Octavia shook her head. “She’s a nice mare, but sometimes I worry for her mental fortitude.”
Vinyl removed her glasses and floated them towards Octavia. “Check again.”
“Well, I don’t see…” Octavia examined herself in Vinyl’s glasses, and let out a gasp, touching the hairpin. “Vinyl, this is… this is beautiful!” She smirked and kicked Vinyl under the table. “Of course you would sneak this onto me, you cad!”
Vinyl grinned. “Just a small reminder that I’ll always be in your corner.”
Always be in her corner…
Vinyl examined the hairpin in her magic, tilting it this way and that as she trudged back to the kitchen. The coffee was done. She poured herself a cup and sat back down on the couch, continually eyeing the hairpin.
What exactly was “being in Octavia’s corner”?
Was it, as the doctor suggested, helping to avoid her cateusian impulses while being supportive nonetheless? Or was it more along Twilight’s intimation that she should have let her be the shark she thought she was and, as Twilight put it, ‘keep a lot of meat around’?
Vinyl took a deep swig. Whatever it was, she had certainly failed Octavia. Evicting her from their home was certainly unsupportive no matter how you cut it. It was just… Octavia had crossed a line. Calling her an idiot by way of insulting her profession was just cruel. That was reducing what she was to a punchline.
Vinyl’s breath caught in her throat as she dropped her coffee cup, the contents spilling on the floor.
Maybe this was how Octavia felt? Vinyl certainly wasn’t born a disc jockey, but still took great offense when it was insulted.
Had Vinyl been doing this to Octavia the entire time, denying and insulting her belief that she was a shark by attempting to cure her?
She couldn’t explain the sensation coursing through her as she picked up her glasses and examined her reflection, noticing the uniquely pained expression on her face as she realized she had been denying Octavia's true self, what she actually was in favor of what Vinyl wanted her to be. She then looked at the hairpin, the representation of a promise of friendship.
She hadn’t been a very good friend tonight. She’d venture to guess that Octavia hadn’t thought her to be a very good friend each time Vinyl had patronized her about her core beliefs. Vinyl then looked back at her reflection, a look of sorrow borne across her exhausted features as she bit her lip.
The light flickered on revealing her housemate, Vinyl, casting a long shadow across the couch she sat upon. Octavia turned to face her and offered a weak grin.
Vinyl pointed a hoof at the easy chair. “Why don’t you take a seat.”
“Look, I can explain―”
Vinyl shook her head. “I said―” Vinyl’s voice froze the air between them “―why don’t you take a seat.”
“Well, okay,” Octavia said as she nodded meekly and placed herself in the rather comfortable chair. “I just wanted to wash off my muzzle first.” She felt her lungs frost over and looked up at Vinyl. “It’s not equine blood or anything like that―it’s pig’s blood, one of Applejack’s. I was busy ripping into its carcass before Granny Smith chased me off and then I ran away and then I got tired and hid for a bit and snuck my way over here and―”
Vinyl raised a hoof. “Wait a sec. I thought you got these urges under control. I thought this was behind us.”
“You know I can never go backwards,” Octavia said, glaring at her.
“Octavia.” Vinyl threw her head back and grunted. “The therapist said this was supposed to be a phase and he helped you work through it.”
“Well, Vinyl, I thought so, too. But one day I came across a curious book.” She let out a protracted sigh. “I read this rather curious book and found out a curious thing: there are others like me.”
Vinyl pursed her lips. “You mean crazy ponies.”
“We’re not crazy.” Octavia clenched her jaw. “Anyway, I read stories about others that were physically born one way, but felt inherently different.” She started trembling. “Unicorns that knew they were actually pegasi, or earth ponies that identified as griffons. There was one tale about a minotaur that knew since they were young they were a dragon on the inside.” She exhaled. “The point is, I’m not alone.”
“But your case is different.” Vinyl stood up and trotted towards Octavia. “You don’t think you’re any of those.” She put a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “You think you’re a shark.”
Octavia glared at Vinyl. “You’re wrong. I know I’m a shark.”
Vinyl groaned. “We’ve been over this, you’re not a shark―”
“Stop mis-specieing me!” Octavia pushed Vinyl’s hoof off her shoulder. “I was born a shark in a pony’s body and you can’t say otherwise!”
Vinyl stared at Octavia, then buried her face in her hoof. “Look, Octy, I know transspecieism is a thing, but you can’t be a shark. It’s just crazy talk. That’d put you on the same level of Screw Loose at the Ponyville Hospital who thinks she’s a dog.”
“At least she doesn’t lie to anyone about what he is.” Octavia kept her gaze trained on Vinyl.
Vinyl pressed her eyes shut. “Is that what you want? Strapped to a wheelchair because we can’t trust you not to bite ponies? Constant supervision? Is that what you want?”
Octavia looked away. “You wouldn’t understand, you cis-species ungulate.”
“Okay, now I know you’re making things up, because I don’t know what either of those last two words mean.”
“Maybe if you spent less time at children’s parties and around adults, you’d have a more expansive vocabulary.”
Vinyl stared at Octavia and slowly took off her glasses. “Did… did you just call me an idiot?”
Octavia snickered. “If the horseshoe fits.”
Vinyl threw her glasses onto the ground. “Alright, I was prepared to put up with this nonsense about your shark delusions, but insulting my intelligence is where I draw the line!” She pointed towards the door. “I want you out of here by tomorrow.”
“You know what, I’m leaving now. I’ll see if Twilight will take me in.” Octavia leapt to her hooves and left, slamming the door in her wake.
Vinyl grit her teeth and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee. She certainly wasn’t getting any sleep tonight after that confrontation.
She watched the coffee percolate, reflecting on the timeline of Octavia’s “shark thing”. It started on a night not unlike tonight, with Octavia coming home late, her muzzle covered in blood. Vinyl freaked out, asking Octavia who had hit her. Octavia cried for a good hour until she revealed that no, no one had hit her, but there was a poor cow that wasn’t with us anymore.
She recounted to Vinyl that she had been feeling an ever-growing bloodlust past previous seasons, and that very night was the night when it boiled over and she ended the poor heifer’s life with her jaws. Because she was a shark. And everypony knows sharks eat meat that they hunt.
Vinyl suggested therapy. Octavia tearily agreed.
They both met with the therapist for the first session. He explained that he had seen this kind of thing before―ponies thinking they were the wrong species―and that he had had a measure of success curing it.
“Now, Vinyl,” Doctor Carpe Calcium said as he sipped on his tea. “You understand that species curing is a group process, right?”
Vinyl nodded. “Of course, doctor.” She placed her hoof on Octavia’s.
Carpe looked at Octavia. “And a group process involves everypony. Especially the patient.”
Octavia looked the smallest Vinyl had ever seen her as she meekly nodded. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”
Doctor Calcium smiled at both of them. “Okay. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Vinyl rubbed her face as she reminisced about that session, the coffee drips narrating the pregnant silence. It was best to keep busy. She watered down a rag and washed the counters.
She knew it wasn’t going to be like flipping a switch. It wasn’t like Octavia just woke up one morning and decided she was an aquatic apex predator. Signals had been misfiring in her brain since birth. She had decided to ask around in case the therapy didn’t stick.
“So, Twilight,” Vinyl asked as she examined the bookshelves in Golden Oak Library, “let’s say someone thinks they were born the wrong species.”
“Transspecieism,” Twilight said without looking up from her book. “It’s an uncommon phenomenon, but not unheard of.” She flipped a page. “Best course of action is to help the affected realize their desired species.”
Vinyl snapped her head to face Twilight. “But what if they think they’re something dangerous, like a dragon, or―” She almost said shark “―a tiger?”
Twilight looked up, then barked out a laugh. “A tiger? Vinyl, are you crazy? Why would someone want to be a tiger?”
Vinyl tittered. “Yeah, I guess so.” She took a deep breath to collect herself. “But what if?”
Twilight took a deep breath. “Then you better have a lot of meat around, I guess.”
“But there’s no spell that could cure them?” Vinyl walked towards Twilight. “Like a reform spell, or a ‘make me think I’m the right species’ kind of spell?”
“Vinyl.” Twilight shook her head and looked up. “A reform spell would imply that there was something inherently wrong with transspecieism, and as for the second one… they do think they’re the right species. It’s their body they think is the wrong species.” Twilight clucked her tongue. “Besides, brain magic is very dangerous. I’m sure you remember the Want It Need It incident.”
Vinyl shuddered. “Yeah.”
The counters weren’t going to get any cleaner. She decided to start packing up Octavia’s things so Twilight could more easily pick them up. She opened the door to her housemate’s room. Vinyl shuddered.
It was so… orderly. Were sharks known for having obsessive compulsive behavior?
Well, time to get down to business. She rifled through Octavia’s shelves, throwing her things onto the bed until a disheveled pile of clothes made an unsightly lump. She went through the shelves one last time, making sure she didn’t miss anything.
It turned out she had, coming across a diamond-tipped hairpin.
Vinyl remembered this hairpin.
Snow lined the streets of Ponyville as it wafted from the sky, the marvelous show a sight to behold from inside Sugarcube Corner. Octavia and Vinyl had front row seats, each sipping on her own cup of hot chocolate, smiling at each other.
“So, Octy,” Vinyl asked, “how you doing?”
Octavia chortled. “I’m doing quite well. You know that as well as I.” She took a delicate sip.
Vinyl took a sip of her own. “You haven’t had any relapses recently, as far as I know.” Vinyl jovially eyed Octavia down. “Is I right?”
Octavia mocked embarrassment. “You is right. I’ve been a good filly.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, because I wouldn’t be able to give you this otherwise.”
Octavia stared at Vinyl while taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Give me what?”
“Gimme a sec,” Vinyl said, carefully navigating a diamond-tipped hairpin outside of Octavia’s line of sight. “I have to prepare it first,” she said as she deftly slipped it into Octavia’s mane.
“What do you mean, prepare it?” Octavia asked as she took another sip. “This isn’t another ‘musical present’, is it―”
“Hey, guys!” Pinkie showed up at their table. “Do you guys like your hot chocolate?”
Vinyl smirked. “I do. Can’t speak for my friend, here.”
“I quite enjoy this hot chocolate, especially on such a frigid day.”
Pinkie looked at Octavia. “Glad you do! By the way, nice hairpin!” she said before trotting off.
Octavia looked at Pinkie. “But I’m not wearing a hairpin.” Octavia shook her head. “She’s a nice mare, but sometimes I worry for her mental fortitude.”
Vinyl removed her glasses and floated them towards Octavia. “Check again.”
“Well, I don’t see…” Octavia examined herself in Vinyl’s glasses, and let out a gasp, touching the hairpin. “Vinyl, this is… this is beautiful!” She smirked and kicked Vinyl under the table. “Of course you would sneak this onto me, you cad!”
Vinyl grinned. “Just a small reminder that I’ll always be in your corner.”
Always be in her corner…
Vinyl examined the hairpin in her magic, tilting it this way and that as she trudged back to the kitchen. The coffee was done. She poured herself a cup and sat back down on the couch, continually eyeing the hairpin.
What exactly was “being in Octavia’s corner”?
Was it, as the doctor suggested, helping to avoid her cateusian impulses while being supportive nonetheless? Or was it more along Twilight’s intimation that she should have let her be the shark she thought she was and, as Twilight put it, ‘keep a lot of meat around’?
Vinyl took a deep swig. Whatever it was, she had certainly failed Octavia. Evicting her from their home was certainly unsupportive no matter how you cut it. It was just… Octavia had crossed a line. Calling her an idiot by way of insulting her profession was just cruel. That was reducing what she was to a punchline.
Vinyl’s breath caught in her throat as she dropped her coffee cup, the contents spilling on the floor.
Maybe this was how Octavia felt? Vinyl certainly wasn’t born a disc jockey, but still took great offense when it was insulted.
Had Vinyl been doing this to Octavia the entire time, denying and insulting her belief that she was a shark by attempting to cure her?
She couldn’t explain the sensation coursing through her as she picked up her glasses and examined her reflection, noticing the uniquely pained expression on her face as she realized she had been denying Octavia's true self, what she actually was in favor of what Vinyl wanted her to be. She then looked at the hairpin, the representation of a promise of friendship.
She hadn’t been a very good friend tonight. She’d venture to guess that Octavia hadn’t thought her to be a very good friend each time Vinyl had patronized her about her core beliefs. Vinyl then looked back at her reflection, a look of sorrow borne across her exhausted features as she bit her lip.