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What It Is to Be Haunted
Octavia Melody sprawled on the mattress in her Manehattan studio, her head spinning from a few too many shots of Coltvados. How many too many she wasn’t sure, but whatever. She wouldn’t regret it until tomorrow, at which point it would be future Octavia’s problem, and one she would no doubt rage at her for causing.
Future Octavia would also undoubtedly be angry that buying that bottle had only left a hoofful of bits in her purse – definitely not enough to pay the rent on her tiny, rat-infested hovel from which the last occupant had exited through the tenth story window. On the other hoof, it wasn’t like there’d been enough bits in there to pay rent before the bottle, so future Octavia couldn’t get too mad at her for buying it.
It was too hot.
The world lurched as she forced herself to roll off her mattress and stand.
The heat was present Octavia’s problem. Most other things were future Octavia’s problem. Yet, somehow, they always turned into present Octavia’s problems, something she found quite unfair. More and more, she found herself wishing future Octavia would disappear.
Nopony would miss her.
Not even present Octavia.
She took an unsteady step towards her window. It really was too hot.
It took effort to fumble the latch off and push the window open, but the only reward was more of the same sticky, sweltering air that filled her apartment. All she needed was a tiny breeze, and she couldn’t even have that.
She wanted to laugh.
She cried instead.
Through the haze of tears, she looked at the dark streets below and wondered what the previous occupant had thought as they’d taken their last step.
“That’s a bad idea. I really can’t recommend it.”
Octavia started, hooves flailing as she tried to spin and not fall over. Standing not more than a few feet behind her was a unicorn, her white coat seeming to glow in the faint light of the moon and red eyes shining beneath a shock of blue hair.
“Who are you?” Octavia squeaked, trying and failing to manage bravado despite .
“The previous tenant.”
Octavia stared in disbelief, slowly realizing that she could see the faint outlines of the room through the unicorn’s body. “You’re—”
“A ghost,” she supplied. “Yeah. Another musician who hit the end of her rope. Metaphorically. It was the ground if we go literal.”
Octavia kept staring. She had to be hallucinating.
“Look.” The unicorn took a step forward. “Stuff sucks. It always sucks. It’ll probably keep sucking. But it’s better than this, watching the world roll on without you, knowing that you’ve got eternity to regret what you did.”
Octavia sniffed, wiping the lingering tears from her eyes.
“So please, be stronger than I was and find a way to live.” The unicorn smiled. “I’d certainly appreciate it. It’d give my death a little meaning. You know, stopping somepony else from repeating my mistakes. Or, at the very least, convincing you to do it a different way.”
Despite herself – despite everything – Octavia laughed.
They sat and talked.
They talked long into the night, about things Octavia hadn’t talked to anypony about in ages. It was strange at first, talking to somepony who was dead, but the strangeness gave way to a sort of comfortable familiarity as the conversation left the subjects of mortality and ghosts and instead drifted to life. To alcohol. To music. To dreams.
“I wish I’d met you when I was still alive,” Vinyl said. She smiled, but it was tighter than it had been all evening.
“Yeah.” Octavia’s own smile lost some of its lustre. The unasked question that had hung in the air since they’d started talking was growing heavier by the moment. How much time did Vinyl have before she faded away?
Octavia didn’t want to ask, and it was obvious Vinyl didn’t want to either. So they didn’t.
In a sudden movement, she stepped forward and embraced the ghostly unicorn. It surprised to find Vinyl’s body actually had substance – not flesh, but not air either. A chill seeped into her coat wherever their bodies met. “You’re cold.”
There was a long silence. “Sorry,” Vinyl finally managed, seemingly more surprised than she was.
“Don’t be.” Octavia pressed her face to the side of Vinyl’s neck, relishing the feel. “It feels nice.”
She would deal with the answer to that question when the time came.
Future Octavia would also undoubtedly be angry that buying that bottle had only left a hoofful of bits in her purse – definitely not enough to pay the rent on her tiny, rat-infested hovel from which the last occupant had exited through the tenth story window. On the other hoof, it wasn’t like there’d been enough bits in there to pay rent before the bottle, so future Octavia couldn’t get too mad at her for buying it.
It was too hot.
The world lurched as she forced herself to roll off her mattress and stand.
The heat was present Octavia’s problem. Most other things were future Octavia’s problem. Yet, somehow, they always turned into present Octavia’s problems, something she found quite unfair. More and more, she found herself wishing future Octavia would disappear.
Nopony would miss her.
Not even present Octavia.
She took an unsteady step towards her window. It really was too hot.
It took effort to fumble the latch off and push the window open, but the only reward was more of the same sticky, sweltering air that filled her apartment. All she needed was a tiny breeze, and she couldn’t even have that.
She wanted to laugh.
She cried instead.
Through the haze of tears, she looked at the dark streets below and wondered what the previous occupant had thought as they’d taken their last step.
“That’s a bad idea. I really can’t recommend it.”
Octavia started, hooves flailing as she tried to spin and not fall over. Standing not more than a few feet behind her was a unicorn, her white coat seeming to glow in the faint light of the moon and red eyes shining beneath a shock of blue hair.
“Who are you?” Octavia squeaked, trying and failing to manage bravado despite .
“The previous tenant.”
Octavia stared in disbelief, slowly realizing that she could see the faint outlines of the room through the unicorn’s body. “You’re—”
“A ghost,” she supplied. “Yeah. Another musician who hit the end of her rope. Metaphorically. It was the ground if we go literal.”
Octavia kept staring. She had to be hallucinating.
“Look.” The unicorn took a step forward. “Stuff sucks. It always sucks. It’ll probably keep sucking. But it’s better than this, watching the world roll on without you, knowing that you’ve got eternity to regret what you did.”
Octavia sniffed, wiping the lingering tears from her eyes.
“So please, be stronger than I was and find a way to live.” The unicorn smiled. “I’d certainly appreciate it. It’d give my death a little meaning. You know, stopping somepony else from repeating my mistakes. Or, at the very least, convincing you to do it a different way.”
Despite herself – despite everything – Octavia laughed.
They sat and talked.
They talked long into the night, about things Octavia hadn’t talked to anypony about in ages. It was strange at first, talking to somepony who was dead, but the strangeness gave way to a sort of comfortable familiarity as the conversation left the subjects of mortality and ghosts and instead drifted to life. To alcohol. To music. To dreams.
“I wish I’d met you when I was still alive,” Vinyl said. She smiled, but it was tighter than it had been all evening.
“Yeah.” Octavia’s own smile lost some of its lustre. The unasked question that had hung in the air since they’d started talking was growing heavier by the moment. How much time did Vinyl have before she faded away?
Octavia didn’t want to ask, and it was obvious Vinyl didn’t want to either. So they didn’t.
In a sudden movement, she stepped forward and embraced the ghostly unicorn. It surprised to find Vinyl’s body actually had substance – not flesh, but not air either. A chill seeped into her coat wherever their bodies met. “You’re cold.”
There was a long silence. “Sorry,” Vinyl finally managed, seemingly more surprised than she was.
“Don’t be.” Octavia pressed her face to the side of Vinyl’s neck, relishing the feel. “It feels nice.”
She would deal with the answer to that question when the time came.
This is cute and pleasant and fits the season. I like it! I'd like something of a better idea on what got Octavia here; what they talk about that helps her, but as is, it's still very nice.
Ghost girlfriend is a decent idea for this round. What you did works well, and I don't have any overarching criticisms. The only thing that got me was the line "trying and failing to manage bravado despite ." I'm thinking a word might have been deleted here, but I can't figure out what it could be.
Even though this is a suicide fic, I think giving it a more upbeat tone at the end was a good choice.
Oh, and I saw that contrast between the heat at the start and the cold at the end. You sly author you.
Even though this is a suicide fic, I think giving it a more upbeat tone at the end was a good choice.
Oh, and I saw that contrast between the heat at the start and the cold at the end. You sly author you.
>>Cassius
Objection!
AndrewRogue isn't the only OctaScratch shipper. Therefore, he shouldn't be considered as its first representative!
...
...
...
Yeah, this is totally Andrew's fic. You beat me, Andrew, I'm defeated. You shall be the official OctaScratch shipper. Especially since you've managed to produce an engaging and heart-warming story.
Nice one.
Objection!
AndrewRogue isn't the only OctaScratch shipper. Therefore, he shouldn't be considered as its first representative!
...
...
...
Yeah, this is totally Andrew's fic. You beat me, Andrew, I'm defeated. You shall be the official OctaScratch shipper. Especially since you've managed to produce an engaging and heart-warming story.
Nice one.
Nice story. The entire suicide bit feels a bit jarringly dark to me, but overall it's not bad and pretty cute at the end. Bonus points for it not ending up as a slash-fic, no matter what those poor, poor deluded souls above might say.
This is a lovely story, Writer. Octavia and Vinyl both are well-voiced and feel true to their fanon interpretations. Octavia’s plight is relatable, and I can easily see the combination of stressors on her leading her to entertain the thoughts that she does.
Like >>Not_A_Hat, I think that if you were to expand this for Fimfiction, I’d like to see a bit more of the conversation that lasts long into the night, and maybe a bit more on how Octavia found herself in the situation she’s in. I don’t think the lack of these elements detracts from the story as it's presented here, though.
Final Thought: I love the concept of ghost-as-air-conditioning.
Like >>Not_A_Hat, I think that if you were to expand this for Fimfiction, I’d like to see a bit more of the conversation that lasts long into the night, and maybe a bit more on how Octavia found herself in the situation she’s in. I don’t think the lack of these elements detracts from the story as it's presented here, though.
Final Thought: I love the concept of ghost-as-air-conditioning.
In the sequel, Vinyl gets therapy for her delusion, and decides she does have something to live for. :)
What It Is To Be Haunted
aka My Lovely Ghost Vinyl
Originally I was gonna try to do a pair of Vinyl/Tavi ghost stories (this one and one with Vinyl exploring a haunted theater and getting drawn into Octavia's ghostly concerto for all eternity), but I got hung up on this story when I was writing it, and ran out of time so sadly I could not deliver twice the Halloween music pone, and for that I am eternally ashamed.
The story is indeed, at least spiritually (ha, ha) based off the seinen manga My Love Ghost Kana.
At a broader level, it was inspired by me being uncomfortably warm and thinking on how when, I am most frustrated, it is often the little things that gnaw at you the most and really drive you up the wall. So, combine that with the idea that ghosts are cold, and here we are. I was basically writing to the hug as the big thing.
I got hung up for several hours at the line about Octavia laughing (right around there, at least) because, uh, honestly? I didn't know how to move forward from there. Dealing with both talking someone down from a really bad (though, I don't think ultimately suicidal) mood AND talking about being a ghost was a lot of complexity to navigate, particularly in the short set of words I had left.
So, in a final act of desperation, I exposited my way out of it. Suck it show don't tell.
Ultimately, especially given the scope of the fic, it isn't a bad choice, because the importance is not what was actually said, but the just the idea of some sort of connection and someone being there being the sort of thing that helps pull you back from the brink. it doesn't magically fix everything, but it provides the means to take the bad times in stride.
Of course, then I got hung up on a tricky technical question of what Vinyl's haunting actually meant, so I just turned it into a bit of bookending by leaving the question ambiguous and tying it into the theme of moving forward. Still kind of a problematic thing to gloss over though.
>>Cassius You sure, 'cause that's not what the guessing chart says! :p Also I miss you commenting on my stories. =(
>>Not_A_Hat Thank you kindly. Regarding the conversation, see the above. Regarding what got Octavia here, yeah, that seems to be a consistent issue I'm having lately in that I'm starting a bit too deep in situations for people to be comfortable (same issue with Sad Life of a Solitary Mage).
>>Dolfeus Doseux "the presence of her heart in her throat" or something along those lines. Not sure when I accidentally managed to delete that line. Upbeat is the name of the game for me. I'm a big believer in happy - or, at least, bittersweet/survivable endings. Anyhow, thankies. =)
>>Fenton Thank you. Your surrender is accepted with grace.
>>JudgeDeadd Given the source of my inspiration is a manga where the ghost and main character fuck in the first chapter... :p That said, your read is not necessarily wrong either. I realize a fair amount of people don't like ships, and I have a sort of view that romance is often just sufficiently advanced friendship (with added sexual compatibility), so I'm willing to do stuff that can be read as friendship or prelude to more depending what you want.
>>Icenrose Thanks. =)
>>georg *Octavia. Unless she just missed a crazy girl living in her apartment this whole time. <<
aka My Lovely Ghost Vinyl
Originally I was gonna try to do a pair of Vinyl/Tavi ghost stories (this one and one with Vinyl exploring a haunted theater and getting drawn into Octavia's ghostly concerto for all eternity), but I got hung up on this story when I was writing it, and ran out of time so sadly I could not deliver twice the Halloween music pone, and for that I am eternally ashamed.
The story is indeed, at least spiritually (ha, ha) based off the seinen manga My Love Ghost Kana.
At a broader level, it was inspired by me being uncomfortably warm and thinking on how when, I am most frustrated, it is often the little things that gnaw at you the most and really drive you up the wall. So, combine that with the idea that ghosts are cold, and here we are. I was basically writing to the hug as the big thing.
I got hung up for several hours at the line about Octavia laughing (right around there, at least) because, uh, honestly? I didn't know how to move forward from there. Dealing with both talking someone down from a really bad (though, I don't think ultimately suicidal) mood AND talking about being a ghost was a lot of complexity to navigate, particularly in the short set of words I had left.
So, in a final act of desperation, I exposited my way out of it. Suck it show don't tell.
Ultimately, especially given the scope of the fic, it isn't a bad choice, because the importance is not what was actually said, but the just the idea of some sort of connection and someone being there being the sort of thing that helps pull you back from the brink. it doesn't magically fix everything, but it provides the means to take the bad times in stride.
Of course, then I got hung up on a tricky technical question of what Vinyl's haunting actually meant, so I just turned it into a bit of bookending by leaving the question ambiguous and tying it into the theme of moving forward. Still kind of a problematic thing to gloss over though.
>>Cassius You sure, 'cause that's not what the guessing chart says! :p Also I miss you commenting on my stories. =(
>>Not_A_Hat Thank you kindly. Regarding the conversation, see the above. Regarding what got Octavia here, yeah, that seems to be a consistent issue I'm having lately in that I'm starting a bit too deep in situations for people to be comfortable (same issue with Sad Life of a Solitary Mage).
>>Dolfeus Doseux "the presence of her heart in her throat" or something along those lines. Not sure when I accidentally managed to delete that line. Upbeat is the name of the game for me. I'm a big believer in happy - or, at least, bittersweet/survivable endings. Anyhow, thankies. =)
>>Fenton Thank you. Your surrender is accepted with grace.
>>JudgeDeadd Given the source of my inspiration is a manga where the ghost and main character fuck in the first chapter... :p That said, your read is not necessarily wrong either. I realize a fair amount of people don't like ships, and I have a sort of view that romance is often just sufficiently advanced friendship (with added sexual compatibility), so I'm willing to do stuff that can be read as friendship or prelude to more depending what you want.
>>Icenrose Thanks. =)
>>georg *Octavia. Unless she just missed a crazy girl living in her apartment this whole time. <<