I woke up extremely early after bucking that poor colt's brains out. It was easy enough to slip the ring off my horn for a moment before he and I got down to business, and I wasn't in the greatest of mental states at the time to be casting magic, buuut...given he didn't freak out about my cock flopping on his belly every time I sunk down to the root on top of him, I don't think I miscast the spell.

Well, that or he was way too high on E to care, but that's neither here nor there.

I removed the ring from my horn and checked his memories one last time to see if he perceived me the way I wanted him to throughout, and when I was sure I'd done a good enough job of it, I left. Not much ceremony to it, and I really wanted to get home, take a shower, and pass out in bed. Maybe even curl up with Spike, because Spike was and still is the best little teddy bear sleep aid.

When I got home, I dismissed the foalsitter and offered to let her stay the rest of the morning so she didn't have to go out walking while it was still dark out, but she insisted that she was fine. Eh well, I offered. Her choice if she wants to risk getting mugged.

I took a quick shower, took some time to massage my bad hindleg, then slinked into Spike's room and picked him up out of his basket. He slept like a log, so I only interrupted his sleep for a brief moment before he zonked out once more. I carried him to my bed and curled up around him, hugging him close and quickly falling asleep.

You don't realize how much time of yours is spent on something until you truly cut that something out of your life. It gets even worse when you can't safely use your magic. That didn't stop me from using my magic, but I'm sure me repeatedly removing the inhibitor from my horn in order to do so probably extended the duration of my recovery.

So of course, with nothing better to do, I went into my laboratory in the basement and secured my privacy so I could re-evaluate my old plans in peace. They needed drastic revisions anyways, considering how horrendously out-of-date the information written down was.

The first step was gathering some intel, and that required a crew...or perhaps, just some old contacts. I still had ponies I could talk to all over Equestria, but one in particular came to mind. He was by no means loyal to me, but I think I could convince him to help me out. Beyond that, I needed some muscle, and I needed to find a lot more help than just two other ponies. I needed ponies that would see me as their boss...as long as they didn't actually know it was me.

Unfortunately, with my use of magic restricted, I couldn't function at peak efficiency, and I hated functioning at anything less than my best. You wouldn't like me when I get sick, I get really, really grumpy. Basically what I'm saying is, I wasn't going to be getting any real work done without my magic at my beck and call. Seriously, my hoofwriting's awful in comparison, and don't even try to talk me into writing with my mouth!

So, with little else to do, I spent my time catching up on some reading, watching some television, and making a point to avoid my parents whenever they, very briefly, came home. I had questions I needed to ask them, questions I'd been putting off for a long time, but I still wasn't quite ready. Even after my argument with Celestia, I couldn't bring myself to face either of them.

Shit...I really needed to apologize to her.

She didn't deserve that. I know why she did what she did. Fuck, I damn near predicted it for crying out loud! Why'd I fly off the handle on her like that? She'd been nothing but nice to me, and...fuck.

In any case, it was a solid two weeks before it was deemed safe for me to remove my inhibitor ring. Within that time, Spike and I had actually caught up on the Daring Do series. To say he was a big fan at his age was an understatement. That series was partially the reason he tried so hard to learn how to read.

Speaking of Spike, the moment I had all my affairs in order and my magic was back to full capacity, I found a foalsitter to watch him for a couple weeks. I didn't want to make a habit of this sort of thing, but for now, it was necessary. I had places to go and businesses to buy out.

Did I have the funds? Why yes, I did. Not from being Lady Sparkle of House Sparkle, but because if there's one thing the Mafia does well, it's paying those that do right by the organization. No one in my family knows exactly how rich I am, but to put it simply, I could retire for a very long time if I so chose, without ever having to work a single job ever again, even if I didn't get a royal stipend for personal research as Celestia's pupil. That money goes in an entirely separate account from where I keep the money I made from the Mafia.

Of course, there was always something I did as a kind of back-up security for Spike. No, I'm not overprotective, why do you ask?

It started with a visit to Vinyl's club. Strange, I know. Then again, I haven't told you a whole lot about a certain Octavia Melody. For one, she hates it whenever anyone brings up that last name of hers, since she technically doesn't have one, but that's neither here nor there.

Remember what I said before, about daring to lay a hoof on Vinyl Scratch? Yeah there's a reason for that. Let me put it this way: even I wouldn't want to fuck with Octavia, especially when I'm within her reach. She's got a temper worse than a greed-fallen dragon's and the strength to match.

One stallion talked shit about Vinyl while Octavia was in earshot, once, while I was around to see it. She broke his jaw, one of his forelegs and three of his ribs for it, went to jail for a couple weeks before being let out and being scolded by Vinyl for being such a fire-headed idiot. Didn't stop her from doing it again and paying for the next guy's hospital bills. Though, I suppose saying 'Vinyl scolded her' is a bit misleading.

See, Vinyl's a mute. Not by any natural means. No, she took a nasty stab through the neck. Damn miracle she didn't die from it. I can only be thankful I was around to watch out for her until she got back on her hooves and got back to her work.

Yes, I know who did it to her. Maybe someday I'll have the courage to actually re-open that wound and tell her.

It's difficult for me to think of myself as their friend. Not because either of them are bad friends or anything, it's nothing of the sort. In fact, both Octavia and Vinyl have been nothing but good to me since I first met both of them. Not to mention, I was really young when I met those two.

Vinyl was the first I met. I was only eight at the time, and she was...different. She lacked a certain presence that I'd become accustomed to picking up on. That kind of presence that has your gut instinct telling you to be cautious, and be prepared for anything. Mind you by meeting her first I mean that I observed her from a distance, but that's basically the same thing when you're as thorough at looking into someone as I am.

She was boisterous and a party mare, sure. Bad? Farthest thing from it. She grew up in the Red District, and I don't think I need to tell you how growing up in a place like that could really fuck a kid's life over. Despite that, she came out of it fairly normal, all things considered. I'm not saying she's some pure spirit, but she's certainly leagues above me on the ladder of saints. I don't even think there's a spot on it for me.

She befriended a lot of the prostitutes in the Red District while growing up. She didn't judge them for their professions. Even at a young age, I think she knew what they got up to. But she'd always been an artist at her core, and instead of letting her environment get her down she just kinda...went with the flow. She drew inspiration from the strangest sources, taking the more carnal activities of the Red District and making a kind of rhythm out of them. Unfortunately, she didn't have an outlet for that rhythm until technology caught up with her genius when she was in her teens.

That was when she began to make her dreams come true. That was also when she became a target because she was stepping on one too many fetlocks, trying to set her club up right in the middle of the Red District. She'd put out a few albums of her own and gotten the fame and income to make it happen, and she'd refused to affiliate herself with the Mafia in any way. The Mafia doesn't like letting potential cash cows get away from them like that. Not only was she competition for up-and-coming ponies like Sapphire Shores, she was interfering in operations in the entirety of the Red District with her mere presence and her attempt to start up her own club. Clearly killing the mare was the only solution. She didn't exactly have anything in the form of a family they could go after.

How fortunate that the pony they sent to take care of her fucked it up.

They stabbed her through the neck before her security arrived. They didn't have time to finish the job. She survived the assault, but...well, she lost her voice. If she screams at a high enough pitch you can get a squeak out of her, but that's about it. No amount of magic stimulation ever managed to help her vocal cords heal, so she opted to leave it be.

She didn't let it get her down. No, she just kept on trucking, like it didn't change anything at all. Of course it did, but Vinyl Scratch is a consummate professional, and that's something I can respect above all else. I'm also entirely sure that as long as it didn't cripple her ability to make her unique brand of music, she didn't really let it bug her.

Still, that kind of attitude can be dangerous, especially when it causes you to turn a blind eye to potential danger. She didn't up her security around her fledgling club after the attack, and with how widespread the Mafia were, it was only a matter of time before she hired the wrong bodyguards and got herself stabbed in the back. That was when I got myself involved.

At the time I wasn't so deeply involved in Mafia affairs to know the ins and outs of how the whole organization worked, but I knew enough to know that she needed some assistance. Of course, directly approaching Vinyl would never work out for me. No, I needed a different angle. Why would she ever listen to an eight-year-old, y'know?

So I went looking for something specific. I started looking for security firms that had no affiliation with the Mafia. Unfortunately, those were few and far between, in and out of Canterlot. I was actually on the verge of giving up when another solution presented itself to me.

There had been a bit of a turf war in Trottingham, between multiple gangs. Normally that city was pretty quiet, but recent activities on the Mafia's part left a bit of a power vacuum there, and a lot of territory sat unclaimed. Multiple local gangs went after it with gusto...and a few of them were either completely wiped out, or pushed out of Trottingham entirely.

Enter, Octavia. Originally born into a prestigious noble family, she was disowned when she disobeyed and decided she wanted to make her own way in life instead of doing exactly as her family expected of her. Thus, her sensitivity to the name 'Philharmonica'. Frankly she hates her ex-family with a passion only matched by the fires of the sun itself.

But okay, that's not the point here. Octavia wound up on the streets and homeless after being disowned at the age of ten, with little to her name aside from the bowtie around her neck. Like so many others, I'm sure she did a lot of things she isn't proud of just to get up out of rock-bottom, but the point is, she got back on her hooves and started her own gang. Crime pays, regardless of what some may say, especially when you're the one in charge.

She formed a gang known as the Codas. Personally I'm surprised that, lacking a more formal, higher-class education, she knew what a coda was, but much like Vinyl, Octavia didn't let anything keep her down. She had that same fiery spirit. Hers just burned a whole lot brighter than Vinyl's ever did. That mare is loud, arrogant, cocky, and has a mouth worse than mine. That's saying something.

When they were in Trottingham, they numbered just over a hundred. Once they got involved with the territory disputes between gangs, that number got cut in half real fast, and that was when Octavia decided to make a run for it with what was left of her gang. Nothing solid, but the intel I had at the time estimated them to be around fifty strong, but only twenty or so stuck by Octavia after that debacle. The others just kinda dispersed and never came back, unless they got killed on the way out.

Octavia would be the one more likely to listen to a child, given her situation. Still, I had to approach her carefully. She was just the right amount of desperate that she would probably be on a hair trigger if I was even slightly suspicious or if I looked like I was trying to set her up. So I went with what I knew best: I approached her professionally.

It didn't go as well as some might expect.

After I used my magic to beat up a few of her colts, she decided to approach me directly. I'd proven I wasn't exactly a normal filly, so I'd piqued her interest on a more personal level. She didn't take kindly to me beating up her ponies, but eh. Shit happens. Who knew that brute force would get through her thick skull? Looking back, I was pretty stupid for thinking otherwise.

I actually had to fight her to get her to listen to me. I'm sure she was just putting on a show for her gang, and in all fairness, she was pretty tough. Unicorns have the advantage at-range, for obvious reasons, but some earth ponies...phew. Look, telekinetic grip isn't this foolproof thing that no one can break free of. Pegasi can break free by using the magic in their wings to overwhelm it, and earth ponies can do the same with their bodies simply by struggling. You know an earth pony's strong when they can break my grip, even if I was only a child at the time. She was only six years older than me, she was still a child too!

Still, I didn't need to hold on to her for very long to throw her against a few walls, so...yeah. Unicorn still wins if they aren't in bucking distance.

Now, this might all seem strange. Underage kids opening up nightclubs and buying property and such? Well, you have to understand, the labor laws in Equestria are really hit-or-miss. They were originally made with the idea of a stable, core family in mind. Sure, a child could buy a house, but it's expected that the parents would have some say in such things.

You know Rarity, one of my newest friends? She bought that boutique of hers when she was twelve. Need I say more? How about the fact that Pinkie Pie left her family behind when she was nine, went to Ponyville, and rented one of the rooms in Sugarcube Corner in exchange for working in the shop?

Of course, there are limitations. For example, Vinyl's 'nightclub' was originally a place that could only be open during the day, and only with clear adult supervision, during the day. Of course, by 'adult supervision', I mean some of the prostitutes that Vinyl had made friends with. Even set up a more discreet facet of their business in her club when it was just starting out. They kept an eye on her, she made her music, and things were fine. Her orphanage caretaker certainly didn't seem to have an issue with it. I'd question why she didn't have a problem with hookers wandering around the place, but then, I've also killed ponies, so that's tame by comparison.

Unfortunately, children cannot become a security team. That's just one of those obvious things, why would you ever assume they could? This was my main problem in presenting the idea to Octavia to begin with, but that was why I wanted her to talk to Vinyl in the first place. I laid it out clean as I could for her. Vinyl needed some protection she could count on, and while what she had at the moment was acceptable, she needed...witnesses, and potential friends that could step in if someone tried to threaten her life again.

So I introduced them. Well, it's more accurate to say that I pointed Octavia in Vinyl's direction, and Octavia introduced me to Vinyl, and aired suspicions that Vinyl might've sent me after her, but that's not important. What was important was, they were talking, and they were making some deals with each other under the table.

Admittedly, it was a gamble on my part. I had no way of knowing how well this would work out, nor did I know if they'd even get along. At the time Vinyl had to speak by writing things down, and kudos to her for investing in a portable whiteboard, really saves on resource costs. You can imagine how amusing it was to have the boisterous and rowdy Octavia trying to hold a conversation with Vinyl Scratch, a mute that had to use a whiteboard to converse. Nowadays she uses her magic to form words in the air if she really needs to talk.

So imagine my surprise when, upon meeting each other, they hit it off like they'd known each other their entire lives. Octavia was downright smitten, unrepentantly so, and her flirting method was particularly blunt-force trauma. How appropriate. She was like a dog chasing a car when it came to Vinyl and it was absolutely adorable. Only difference was, unlike a dog, she knew exactly what to do with that car once she caught it.

It's not like Vinyl was any better either. Say what you will about Octavia, she was at least considerate, regardless of how forward she might be. It was interesting to watch, almost basic in how easily they fit together. Octavia went full-throttle, then Vinyl stepped in and readjusted the pace to something that better suited her more passive personality, and Octavia acquiesced without a moment's hesitation.

It was like watching two teenagers find true love, and that's the most saccharine stuff you can possibly witness. Thus, it shouldn't surprise you to find out that some of the ponies in Octavia's gang didn't exactly approve of this new turn Octavia was taking their gang in. Long story short, only eleven of her original gang bothered to stick by her side.

I mean, I guess they both were very young teenagers at the time, but...whatever, you get my point. I'm getting scatterbrained about this.

Vinyl certainly had some questions regarding me, especially after Octavia said that I went and found her so she could talk to Vinyl herself. Heh, I just told her I was a nosy brat who happened to hear about what exactly happened to Vinyl that night. I was just lucky that Vinyl wasn't as inquisitive as I was. I'm sure Octavia was suspicious at the time, but she's the kind of pony that lets a lot slide as long as you prove you're worth the trouble.

When all was said and done, Vinyl had herself a new group of friends she hung out with like they were her groupies, and I got a thoroughly-needed reprieve from shadowing her at night. I'd killed more than a few that'd been sent after her, other hitponies like myself that didn't expect an eight-year-old to be so adept at wrapping garrote wire around their throats. Shows what you get for assuming, huh?

Fast-forward a few years, and they're both full-fledged adults, and Octavia's managed to pull off the monumental task of seducing that party mare to the point that Vinyl's fanbase is forced to concede that yes, they will never have a chance with that young starlet with the two-toned spiky mane. Didn't stop local ponies from trying of course, but they quickly learned that the head of security in the club didn't take too kindly to them trying to be homewreckers.

I think being protective has just always been in Octavia's nature. Take when I was a mere fourteen years of age, for example. Certain allowances were made for me back then, even late in the evening. Octavia and I had talked more over the years, when I'd made the place a more common hangout for Spike and I during the day. She understood my situation probably better than anypony else, being forced into a situation I didn't entirely know how to cope with. My situation was just far more tame than Octavia's, in several ways.

I never brought Spike there when the club actually became a nightclub in the evening, something that Vinyl had been looking forward to ever since she opened the place while she was underage. Things were a bit too wild for someone his age, and I wouldn't want to risk him being around all of that loud noise, and all those potentially drunk ponies.

I, of course, wasn't allowed to have any alcohol, and while I was in the club I was being supervised, and this particular incident was no exception. The bartender was keeping an eye on me this time around, and since he was the one serving me drinks, it was generally accepted that as long as I didn't wander around, I was fine. The only problem was that he was a new hire, only around a few months, and he seemed a bit squirrelly to me.

It was well into the night when I started feeling strange. I felt light-headed, and the world seemed to appear underwater to me the longer I sat there. Whatever someone had slipped me, it was taking effect alarmingly quick, and several ponies took quick notice of my drugged state. To this day I still don't know what that damn zebra put in my juice of all things, and the fact that I didn't taste anything in my juice...well, it was and still is impressive and scary in equal measure.

That striped bartender didn't delay in getting me away from the bar, and I didn't put two and two together until he carried me into one of the back rooms, away from prying eyes. That was when that fucker started trying to undress me, and I was so damn gone that I put up a token resistance at best. Using magic? Give me a break. I couldn't even clearly make out the small room I was in, let alone focusing on blasting his face inside-out.

He didn't get very far. He'd barely managed to unbutton my pants when there was a sudden hard bang against the door, followed by a second hit. The lock he'd flipped did nothing as Octavia's hindhooves slammed into it and broke it clean off the frame, judging by the sound of splintering wood and the loud bang of the door falling to the floor.

There was a moment of silence after that, and I tried to roll my head to see where Octavia was, but that just made the world spin more. I groaned weakly and pawed at the side of the sofa I'd been laid on, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

"You fuckin' what?!"

Did I forget to mention she's really, really cockney? Because she is, even years after leaving Trottingham behind.

She was on him in a second. She'd gotten faster compared to back when I'd fought with her. I couldn't clearly make out what was happening, but I could hear it and I could feel it. There was a brief moment of struggle, before someone slammed into the far wall of the room, and the dull, but reverberating bang of Octavia's hoof meeting his pinned muzzle was hard and loud enough that I actually felt the vibrations from the impact on top of hearing it.

Then she proceeded to repeat those motions all over his body, calling him everything from a gutter-trash wanker to a child-raping twat that needed to be strung up by his balls and beaten with various blunt instruments. I do believe she also insinuated he needed a cactus shoved up his ass. I dunno, I was drugged with something pretty hardcore, so a lot of that evening is extremely fuzzy to me.

By the time she was done with him, he was out cold and probably half the bones in his body were broken. She had her ponies haul his ass out back, where I believe he was arrested for attempting to force himself on one of the club's patrons. I didn't come forward as a first-hoof witness because of my age, but I think it got the message across. He definitely didn't have a job, and you can be sure that I tracked him down once I was better and made the bastard disappear. Easy target, he didn't even have family or a marefriend that would miss him. Well, maybe he did back in Zebrica, buuuut eh.

After that, things got fuzzy until I found myself waking up in an unfamiliar place. Vinyl was a surprisingly private mare back then, and even I hadn't ever seen the inside of her apartment. She lived in a newer high-rise apartment, at least that's what everyone thought. It was close to the edge of the Red District, but far enough from certain activities for her to, in her own words, 'broaden her creative mind'.

The details of the inside of the apartment weren't as important to me at the time as the fact that my stomach didn't agree with me sitting up so quickly. The world was still spinning, and my equilibrium was so thrown off, I had no choice but to vomit. For all I knew, I'd already done that several times.

I struggled to get out from a set of covers that someone had thrown over me, and I found myself tumbling off of a sofa. I hit the floor and groaned, gurgling and wobbling my head to and fro. There was a bucket sitting right in front of me. I latched onto it and, with one final burst of strength, pulled myself up into a partially sitting position, and dry-heaved into it over and over.

"Hey! Whoa whoa, easy there Sparky," I heard someone say just barely, over the loud sound of me retching. "Hold on, I'll be-ah, fuck me arse, c'mon....!"

I attempted to hurl against my will once more, and several times after that before I felt somepony's hoof on my back, gently rubbing over the muscles there. It was surprisingly more soothing than most would expect, especially since I have a bit of an aversion to being touched unexpectedly.

"S'right mate, let it out, yer alright...."

I coughed and sputtered a few times, spitting out what little amount of nastyness reached my mouth before I even dared to speak. "Wh-why...I know I ate-!"

"Ipecac!" I heard Octavia say suddenly, patting my back a few times. "Had ta get that garbage outta yer gut."

"...Oh. Makes sense."

"What, you don't remember? Oh well. Better than gettin' yer stomach pumped, that's for sure," she said, glancing past the couch for a moment. "Sorry about the smell by the way. Cookin' dinner for Vine."

"Yeah, the smell-urp!-sucks, but I'll deal," I muttered, catching a whiff of cooked vegetables. "Feel sick, but also hungry and really thirsty. That's weird."

"Yeah, yer a weird pony, so everything's right in the world," she said bemusedly, stepping away from me. "Lay back down and rest yer 'ead. I'll getcha some water."

"Just hope I can keep it down."

I slowly crawled my way back onto the couch, the world still spinning a whole lot more than I was comfortable with. I tried to use my magic to pull the cover over myself again, but all I did was grab some bottle off of the kitchen counter (apparently) and twirl it around in the air before dropping it to the floor. It broke with a resounding shattering noise.

"Oi! Fuckin' 'ell, Sparky!"

"Sorry, sorry! Tried to use my magic-"

"Well maybe ya shouldn't!"

"I probably shouldn't."

"Too right. Fuckin' tosser...."

I could hear her sweeping up the mess I'd made. Looking back, that whole evening spent at Vinyl's apartment was kinda awkward. I was almost a hundred percent sure I was intruding on very personal space. Not like, getting too close to either of them. No, it was rare that either of them let anyone come to this apartment. Either they considered me a very good friend and they trusted me enough to let me in here, or Octavia just felt she had no other choice.

Either way, it was only after Octavia brought me my water that it occurred to me that my pants were zipped up and buttoned once more...and I'm pretty sure it wasn't me that did that. Alarms went off in my head, and I drank about half of my cup of water before I spoke up about it.

"Hey, uh...were you the one that buttoned up my pants?"

"All that happened to ya an' yer pants are what you think about?" she mused, while the resounding chop-chop-chop of a knife against a cutting board sounded off. "You got strange priorities, Sparky."

"Did you, though?"

"...Yeah. Why? You thinkin' I'm some pervert?" she asked, the chopping stopping for a moment.

I groaned out a weak laugh and shook my head just a little bit. I regretted the motions immediately.

"Urp! N-no, just uh..." I tried to say, clearing my throat. "You didn't see anything, did you?"

"Well I didn't see nothin', but I certainly felt somethin' by accident," she said, setting her knife down and walking over to lean over the back of the couch, looking down at me. "Pretty sure you ain't no colt, so I'm just guessin' yer like me aunt. Don't worry, mum's the word on it."

"Uhhh...that means you won't tell anypony, right?"

Octavia actually giggled at that. "Right, Canterlotian. Yeah, means I won't tell anyone."

"'Kay then."

I didn't push for much else. I was way too wasted and out of it to really make sure that she wouldn't say anything, and it was really weird to hear her giggle. I wonder if she realized she'd even done it to begin with. There are certain comforts you indulge in at home, away from prying eyes, that you would never do in public. Considering she ran a gang, giggling is just one of those things that Octavia didn't do.

As it turned out, there was a lot I and a lot of other ponies didn't understand about the two of them at the time. Especially Vinyl's fans, oh wow, they could be vocal about their opinions. Comes with the territory, really. You can't be a star and avoid getting numerous fans that want to tell you how to live your life.

Both she and Octavia come under a ton of criticism, mostly Octavia, because of how much of a gold-digger Octavia is. What? It's not like Octavia doesn't know it. She's very aware of what she wants, and what she wants is everything Vinyl has to offer. Her body, her money, and however cheesy it may sound, her heart. Of course, ponies also criticized that Octavia was just leeching off of Vinyl's fame to become more popular in the music industry herself, but both Vinyl and Octavia told her fans to go fuck themselves whenever they brought that up.

It became all too apparent to me when I woke up next. My vision had stabilized, and apparently several hours had passed, because I needed to go to the bathroom, and those two were curled up in front of Vinyl's television, sides pressed together and Vinyl's head laid against the floor, calmly snoozing away while Octavia used the back of her neck as a headrest.

The TV's volume had been turned down to the point of almost being inaudible to me, and their bowl of popcorn was nearly empty. Now that I could see straight, I took the time to gather my thoughts, the only light source being the black-and-white screen of the television itself. I had to wonder why they didn't head to bed, but eh.

The apartment itself was a big open studio-like area when it came to the living room. The kitchen was attached to it, just behind the couch. Kinda weird when you think about it, but what do I know about modern home design? I'm a mage, not a happy home designer. Speaking of the kitchen, they had left their dinner plates on the kitchen table, uncleaned. My eye twitched when I noticed, sitting up on the couch. I hated it when ponies did that.

It seemed like a good thing to do for them, at least. They put me up in their place when they didn't have to, and this place was...well, I looked around, and the walls were littered with various art pieces, but here and there, there were photos of both of them together. Very few of them had either of the mares alone. Course, there wasn't much in the way of light at all, so I might've been wrong. In any case, I lit a dim light on my horn and slowly, quietly climbed off the couch and gave the sleeves of my top a testing tug with my magic to make sure I could control it before going to work on the dishes.

I tried to be as quiet as I possibly could, but how to you be quiet with a sponge, glass dishes and a draining rack? You have to stack the plates on top of each other, inevitably something's going to clink together far too loud to be missed in a household that's deathly silent. Even my magic couldn't secure that, not in my state at the time, anyways. I was still very light-headed and I was having trouble focusing.

Inevitably, I heard one of them rouse from their slumber. Strangely enough it wasn't Octavia, considering she was the one sleeping on top of Vinyl somewhat. Instead, the alabaster mare wandered sleepily into the kitchen to see what I was up to, minus her shades. There was a really popular rumor a long while back that she suffered from a very specific form of albinism and her irises were a rich red color, which led to other rumors that she was some kind of vampony...I swear ponies are dumb as bricks sometimes. They're more of a rose tinge, really. Still, even that's a pretty rare eye color, so it was still a hit when she finally started taking her glasses off more often in public.

She rubbed at one of her eyes while looking at what I was doing, not like it wasn't obvious enough. I increased the brightness of my horn just a bit, enough to show her how my magic was working to clean up the pots and pans Octavia had used to cook dinner, and she just smiled at me. Honestly I really didn't know what to say to her, considering I was standing there in her home under dubious levels of permission. It wasn't like Octavia owned this place.

"You've got a really nice apartment," I muttered as quietly as I could afford to, my magic staying the course on the dishes while I spoke to her. "Really feels like yours and Octavia's place."

She smiled wider and gave me a quick nod, before lighting her horn and reaching out for her whiteboard. She'd gotten a simple enchantment placed on it so it was easy for her to know exactly where it was, within reason of course. It wasn't like it had massive range. She didn't need massive range. All she had to do was use a specific wavelength of magic she'd been taught, and she could feel it as long as it was within her reach.

She quickly wrote 'Thank you.' on the whiteboard when she'd brought it over to us, holding it up for me to see. She leaned to the side and watched the dishes pulling a Fantasia behind me, enthralled by my magic, and quickly scribbled 'Feeling better?' under what she'd previously written. Yes, I'm aware Fantasia came out like...well, I dunno, a few years later? Maybe ten or something? I did the dancing cleaning supplies schtick before it was cool.

"Uh, yeah, a lot better. Still really light-headed, but at least the universe isn't revolving around me anymore."

She nodded to that and used the eraser attached to the whiteboard to wipe it clean. She bit her lip and her ears lowered against her skull, while she rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. If there was one thing you could say about Vinyl, it was that talking with her made you focus a bit more on how much she emoted everything she was feeling. It was almost like she did it to make up for the fact that she didn't have a voice.

'I am SO sorry.'

The squeak of the marker against the whiteboard drew my attention to it, and I quickly waved her off. "It wasn't your fault. How were you supposed to know? Not like he was going to tell you he was a rapist during the interview."

Vinyl quickly shook her head and erased the board again, writing down 'Normal bartender hired him. Gonna have a talk with him.' in its place.

"Hey, seriously, it's fine," I said, waving it off with a hoof. "I doubt he knew either. No reason to make a big deal about it."

'You almost got raped!' she wrote, visibly cringing at the thought of such a thing happening to anyone.

"Your point?"

'You're way too calm about that.'

I shrugged. "I'm jaded, I guess. I've seen a lot of shit. Please don't ask."

Her motions of erasing the whiteboard were almost second nature, I could tell. Her body didn't so much as flinch whenever she did it, and that's usually the sign that a unicorn's doing something with their magic that isn't practiced or completely natural to them. They usually shift their posture as they re-focus their thoughts on the more exact motions they're making with their magic, or their eyes dart down to whatever they're manipulating so they can make sure they can do it right. The fact that Vinyl just kinda did it without taking even a moment's pause spoke to how often she used it.

She began to write on it several times, the squeaking marker stopping suddenly so she can wipe the partially-written word away once more. Eventually she just sighed and nodded, leaving the whiteboard blank. We stood there in silence for a time, and she fidgeted as the uncomfortableness of the moment settled in. Great, now I'd made things awkward.

She glanced past me again, then smirked. 'Good magic.'

I looked back at the shuffling dishes, and grinned. "I'm Celestia's prized pupil. How could my magic not be good?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes. 'So humble, too.'

Perhaps it was childish of me, but I stuck my tongue out at her instead of properly responding like a mature adult...which I wasn't at the time, so hey! Totally appropriate. I looked past her in the direction of the television, and she glanced back, smiling just a bit to herself when she spotted Octavia's silhouetted form laid out comfortably in front of the TV.

"I've never seen you two like that. All..." I muttered, sitting down and bringing my forehooves closer together. "Close."

Vinyl stared at me for a moment before a look of dawning comprehension overtook her, and she rolled her eyes while nodding her head in Octavia's direction.

'Old habits,' she wrote quickly. 'Doesn't want to look soft.'

"Ah. Makes sense, I guess," I said, looking back at the dishes for a moment. They were just about done. "That explains why she's so forceful with you out in public."

Vinyl at least had the decency to blush at that. Neither of them even tried to hide just how promiscuous they could be, and Vinyl's passive behavior bordered on outright submissive when it came to giving Octavia what she wanted. One time while Vinyl was in the DJing booth, Octavia just stood in the doorway staring at her ass for like an hour before Vinyl took a break, and Octavia hauled her off to one of the staff rooms in the back. Everyone in the back area heard what happened next...and I'll leave that to your imagination. Just keep in mind that Vinyl can't actually vocalize her pleasure, and you might have some idea of who was being the loud one.

'Not something I should be talking to a kid about.' she wrote slowly, rubbing the back of her head.

I just quirked a brow at her. "If you seriously think I haven't had sex yet, you really don't know me very well."

She stared at me for a moment before raising the whiteboard up again, writing quickly onto it. Everything about her posture told me she was very uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

'Not gonna ask.'

"Probably a good thing. I warned you not to!"

She nodded and let out a soft sigh of relief that I wasn't pushing the matter. For a mare that grew up in the Red District, she was strangely timid about things of a sexual nature, despite her passive exhibitionism. Seriously, I'd overheard some things from Octavia before. The things they get up to when they think they can get away with it, especially inside Vinyl's club....

The dishes finished up with a final clink of a ceramic plate against one of the pots. Gotta hoof it to Octavia, for a street mare she really knew how to cook. I mean, I dunno what she made for dinner, but there were a lot of pots and pans I had to wash. Not that it took much effort, magic and all that. Kinda makes a lot of tasks pretty trivial.

"So I guess there's more to your relationship than what you show in public?" I asked, looking around for a towel.

Vinyl solved that problem for me, and even walked over to help me as I began to dry off each of the dishes. Do you have any idea how moldy draining racks can be? It's disgusting. I don't leave dishes in draining racks for very long because of it, if only to avoid letting water stagnate in the bottom of it. Just the thought makes me shudder.

She used her hooves to dry the dishes in quick, circular motions while her magic held the whiteboard up.

'Yes. Octavia is perfect.' she wrote while smiling wistfully down at the plate in her hooves.

"Nopony's perfect." I retorted, setting one dish down and picking up another.

Vinyl shook her head and smiled a little wider. 'Perfect in all her imperfections.'

"Ah," I hummed, pondering on that while my magic kept working at the dish floating in front of me. "I think I get what you mean."

'Octavia = muse. Only one for me,' she wrote quickly, the corners of her eyes curling upward, joining in on what looked like such a beaming smile. 'I will give her everything, if that's what it takes.'

I stared at her for a moment, taken aback by the sincerely happy look in her eyes. "I...can't imagine what it feels like."

Her eraser finished scrubbing away the words on the whiteboard so she could write more, and she nodded to me. 'Neither did I, until I met the real Octavia. Hiding behind the crass comments and tough exterior.'

"That sounds really nice...I'm happy for you."

'If you're lucky," she wrote, giving me a sly wink. 'You'll know what it feels like one day.'

I snorted at that and shrugged a little. "Maybe."

We continued drying off the dishes in silence, the idle clink of ceramic against metal the only sounds heard from the kitchen until we heard the light clip-clop of hooves behind us. We both looked back to see a drowsy Octavia walking over to us in the dim light from our horns.

"What're you two poppets doin' in 'ere?" she asked just before covering up a yawn with her hoof.

'Dishes.' Vinyl wrote, turning the board towards Octavia to let her see.

"In the middle of the night? Right daft, you two," she mumbled, walking up behind Vinyl and pressing her chest against Vinyl's back. I respectfully kept my eyes on the pot I was drying. "C'mon Vine, let's hop off to bed then. M'knackered an' I want cuddles."

It took her a moment to process what she'd just said in front of me. Vinyl suppressed a breathy laugh while waiting for the gears to turn in Octavia's sleepy head. Once things finally clicked into place, she gave me one of the most tired glares I've ever seen.

"You know what's good for ya, you'll keep yer flappin' gob shut and pretend you didn't hear nothin'." she muttered, before nudging Vinyl's neck with her muzzle.

I just gave her a simple nod, and she and Vinyl headed off to bed. That was one of the first times I'd really gotten a glimpse at the 'real Octavia' as Vinyl had put it, and I was glad to see that there was more to her than being wild and rough around the edges. That wasn't entirely my focus at the time though.

The way they walked together, the way Octavia pressed against Vinyl's side and nuzzled her with such tender motions while Vinyl's tail curled ever-so-slightly around Octavia's...it unsettled me. Not because the idea of them being so in love was disturbing to me, but I couldn't deny the ache I felt deep down. As I walked back into the living room, shut the television off and climbed back onto the sofa, I realized that I envied them. I didn't sleep well the rest of the night.

I was convinced that I could never feel what that was like. I couldn't afford it, not with what I had planned.

Either way, I eventually fell asleep after a time of rolling over again and again. It really shouldn't have effected me as much as it did, but as much as I say I couldn't allow myself something like that, that didn't mean I didn't want it. It's one thing to read about ponies waxing poetic about matters of the heart in trashy romance novels, but to hear it and see it first-hoof, to see the look in Vinyl's eyes and how they just lit up with life the moment Octavia drew near...I dunno. I'm still a mare despite my bits down there, how could I not want something that seems so wonderful?

I think I got...huh. I got really off-track with that. It's one of my fonder memories, despite what almost happened to me back then. It was my first time seeing true love in such a pure and undiluted form. No frills or excess, just two ponies that fit together like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes I get lost reminiscing about it.

Octavia earned my trust through Vinyl that night. I saw more to her, and when I woke up that morning I felt awful from the drug siphoning out of my system, and I didn't want Spike to see me like that, so I asked Octavia if she could check in with Spike's foalsitter and make sure things are alright. I just needed time to get some liquids in me and get some food in my stomach so I could recover a bit better. Some aspirin helped too.

I found out later that Spike found her accent and unusual form of speech very amusing. He didn't understand any of her slang at the time.

It became a thing that I asked her to do, whenever I left town without Spike in tow. It didn't happen very often while I was Celestia's student, but when it did, I could count on her to keep an eye on things, even though I made a point of hiring a dedicated foalsitter during those times. She was reliable, and I paid her well for doing that for me. She didn't need the money, but I happen to have principles, thank you very much.

With that being said, you can probably guess why I was standing outside of the club. I had already made sure to get my other affairs in order, so I just needed somepony to keep an eye on Spike and make sure the foalsitter I hired didn't flake out on me and shirk her duties while I was out. I am very serious when it comes to making sure my little drake is safe and secure.

The club was a very different place earlier in the day. Workers milled about, cleaning things up, wiping down the tables and replacing any broken chairs any particularly rowdy customers managed to break the night before. The place never really closed down, it just kinda shifted between mellow after-party clean-up and hardcore music haven. Actually, during the daytime the bar attracted a lot of more artsy types, ones that just wanted to chill and talk shop. Then there were ponies like me that just liked the atmosphere and having a place to get a good drink and possibly even better company.

When I entered, I could hear the familiar sound of an acoustic guitar being played, along with several other instruments. As I stepped into the main area of the club, I could see Octavia and a few others all set up together near the dance floor, all playing a song together while pretty much everypony except the workers went silent and stopped what they were doing to listen to them play.

Octavia's a bit remarkable in the sense that, with some practice, she excels with just about any stringed instrument. It doesn't take her long to pick them up. I've seen her play violin, guitar, I think she even played a harp once, though don't ask me where she even got a freakin' harp from. Those things are expensive and ridiculously difficult to play so well, so I don't know where or when she got the practice in.

I walked over to the bar and took a seat next to some mare wearing a beret and some black eyeliner, her eyes closed and her back pressed up against the edge of the bar counter while she listened to the song. I just ordered some brandy and let myself take in the atmosphere. I wasn't in any particular rush, so I didn't feel a need to try to draw Octavia out of her performance. I mean yeah, it was pretty early to be drinking, but eh.

When they wrapped things up, calm whoops and applause sounded off from the crowd, forehooves clopping together in a quiet praise of the band's efforts. Octavia bowed, and I joined in on the applause while she and her small group began to put their instruments away. You might think it's really odd that someone like her would be able to play such relaxing music, but she's a mare full of surprises.

I waited for a bit while another small band took their place, playing an odd polka tune, far more upbeat and energetic. They at least succeeded in getting quite a few of the ponies in the room whooping and clopping their hooves in rhythm with them. Well, at least these artsy types were young enough to not have their heads stuck so far up their asses they can't undo their ties and have a little fun. Personally, polka's not really my thing.

It at least made good background music while I enjoyed my brandy. Not the sort of thing I usually drink, but it sounded good at the time. Kinda like how taking that hit of E the previous night sounded like a good idea. Reality could've had it go either way, and luck favored the bold this time around. It's not something I make a habit out of.

Eventually though, just as I was finishing my drink, Octavia plunked herself down in the seat next to mine, on the other side of me.

"Oi, barky! Gimme some water, I'm parched!"

I looked over at her with a smirk. "You could ask nicely, you know."

"Yeah, I could," she said, rolling her eyes and looking in my direction. "'Sup, Sparky?"

"Not much, just enjoying a drink at an entirely inappropriate time of day," I muttered, turning in my seat to face her. "What about you? I expected you to be off somewhere making goo-goo eyes at Vinyl's sexy ass."

"Okay one, only reason I'm not doing exactly that is because Vine's back at home cookin' up a new song," she said, huffing a bit. "Two, that sounds a whole lot like you've been lookin' at my mare's ass. You been havin' fantasies about my mare, Sparky? That it?"

"Pff-whaaaat? No, no no no..." I said, barely holding back a grin. "Not while you're in swinging range, anyways."

I ducked my head as she reached to smack the back of it, only to find that she'd predicted the motion ahead of time. Soon, my eyeballs rattled in my head as she whacked the back of my head hard enough to make my head jerk forward, almost hitting my horn on the bar counter.

"That's for bein' a twat. Be glad you're me mate, or it'd be worse. Might be leavin' a piece of yer horn in the counter," she teased, gladly accepting her water when the bartender walked over to give it to her. "So then! What's got you down here this time o' day, tryin' to get pissed?"

I rubbed the back of my head with a small wince. That'd leave a bump. "Get pissed? I'm not-oh, right, pissed. Nah, just having a drink while I waited for you. Wanted to ask if you could check in with Spike for a couple weeks."

"Oh, same old? Easy money, sure, I can do it," she muttered, tipping her water back and chugging some of it down. "The usual? Show up randomly, three or four times a week?"

"Yup."

"Cool, alright. Got permission to kick the foalsitter's stupid arse if she cocks her job up?"

"Mmmhmm."

Octavia knew I was joking of course, just as much as I knew she was joking. She also knew that if the foalsitter didn't perform to expectations, such as leaving my son unattended for an hour, she'd have to take over and get in contact with me as quickly as possible, if she even could at all. It was a simple job, and she got paid the same either way, so it all worked out in my favor.

"Sounds aces as usual. So, where you buggerin' off to this time? Prance? Manehattan?" she asked, drinking her water at a more sedate pace while leaning her weight against the countertop more, a foreleg folded under her to brace herself.

I didn't miss a beat, downing the last dregs of my brandy. "Heading to Stalliongrad, actually."

"That shithole? The fuck ya goin' there for?" she asked, a glimmer of concern welling up in those normally confident eyes.

"Business. I don't want to rely on the family fortune anymore, so I'm going there to invest in small businesses. Nothing too spectacular."

I wasn't exactly lying, if you replace 'invest' with 'buy', and 'small businesses' with 'extremely illegal operations that the Stalliongrad Police aren't equipped to properly shut down'. Honestly, I was being entirely truthful if you look at it that way. Not my fault she didn't catch my meaning, sheesh!

I mean, there's also the fact that I fully intended to actually invest in some of the more legitimate businesses out there, but that's not important.

"Still, Stalliongrad? Goin' there's like dippin' yer stick in the filthiest quim you can find and expecting it ta turn out ace, let alone doing business there," she said, blech'ing to herself. "That was a nasty analogy."

"Your words, not mine." I muttered, setting my empty glass down, slipping one of the ice cubes into my mouth and crunching it down.

"Too right. I'm all buggered up for that one."

"Eh, I've heard worse. Anyway, Stalliongrad's a decent opportunity because even after over two-hundred years, that place is still trying to claw its way out of the situation it was in back then," I said, shrugging a little. "Plenty of money-making opportunities there, long as you don't plan on being a billionaire from said opportunities."

"True. Why start small though? You got more bits than brains, an' that's sayin' lots."

I made a rotating motion with my hoof. "Too much competition and rich ponies in the big cities for me to make any real cash. Plus I'm looking for something specific in Stalliongrad. Something I can really corner the market on, if there's anything left."

"Well, ponies don't like goin' there for any reason, so I guess you're on the right track. Good luck to ya, mate."

With that taken care of, I went through the simple motions of getting myself a new pair of pistols and cleaning up my spare revolver once I got home, down in my lab. I would need to keep them on me if I planned on staying safe in Stalliongrad. Magic works for a lot of things, but there's no telling which will be faster: your magic, or a bullet. Best to cover all bases in that regard.

As the day dragged on, I retrieved my toolbox from one of the shelves in my lab and removed the nails in an older section of the basement that I hadn't converted into a part of my lab. I pulled the wood boards away carefully and reached inside to open an old safebox I'd kept locked away there, and pulled out a decently-sized suitcase.

Contrary to what some may think, Equestria doesn't rely purely on sacks of bits to pay for things. We do have such things as credit and paper money. I mean, can you imagine carrying around giant bags of solid fucking gold just to make a business transaction? First of all, you'd break your spine, and second of all, your ass would get mugged. You may as well carry around a giant neon sign that says 'I can barely walk let alone run, and I'm probably exhausted from carrying all this money around, rob me please'.

However, that doesn't mean paper money's very widespread. It's moreso for ponies that have more bits than they could ever carry around, ponies that do big business and make large transactions. Considering I had a suitcase full of the stuff, that should tell you exactly how much I had stowed away for emergencies and future plans.

I didn't intend to do anything massive with this trip, aside from securing my own sources of income, both legitimate and illegal. However, I had my eyes peeled for some muscle, and perhaps if I was lucky, my intended contact would be willing to work with me as well. Time would tell, as it often does.

I hammered the boards back into place, making sure to put the nails exactly where they'd been before in the boards so as not to make it obvious something was hidden back there, and returned to my lab, setting the suitcase down in the corner under where I usually keep my labcoats hung up. I lit my horn and pulled several folders out of a hidden storage area in the bottom of one of the storage cabinets, setting them down on a workstation and flipping them open, pulling several of the papers out of them. They were the profiles I'd personally recorded of various targets I'd need to take out to do any real damage to the Mafia's operations.

There were three primary targets in my plans, priority targets that, if the opportunity presented itself, I needed to eliminate with extreme prejudice. Beyond that, I had numerous other Officers working for the Mafia that needed to be taken care of, though their level of importance had likely changed over the years.

First was Deep Scarlet, a Magister that worked for the one that came after me, and a mare with the most pornstar name ever. Or perhaps the leading female role in a Con Mane film. I still can't believe somepony got away with naming one of the characters in one of those movies Pussy Galore. I let Spike watch that movie before I heard about that!

Scarlet was a prodigy in her own right, with her sharp and calculating mind. Very few ponies could match her level of focus when it came to magic. She also had an extremely rare color of magic, thus the origin of her name. She was in charge of the Mafia's finances, with the vast majority of her time being put into streamlining Manehattan's businesses to ensure the Mafia made as much money as possible. She was ruthless, merciless, and saw even her own ponies as nothing more than numbers.

Then there was the Magister's son, Turning Spell. The strange name came from the exotic reverse fluting of his horn, though I still feel it's a bit of a stretch. Very few know who his Mother was, and it's a sore subject for his Father, so he rarely ever brought it up. He wasn't exactly a target like Deep Scarlet was, and that was because he once had a fiance he planned to elope with. He never wanted anything to do with his Father's Mafia dealings. Then one day both he and his fiance disappeared, and when he finally reappeared, he was quiet and curt, and very withdrawn. Now he does whatever daddy tells him to do. I think he senses foul play as much as I did back then.

Finally, my main target. The one that matters more than anypony else. I've been avoiding saying his name because his name still pisses me off something fierce, really gets my blood boiling.

Magister Weaving Thought.

...Sorry, just needed to take a deep breath and let it out. Anyways. He was the one responsible for the pony I became. He was the one responsible for destroying my foalhood before it ever had a chance to be a thing. I hated him, I despised everything about him, and I couldn't wait to kill him, preferably in the most slow and agonizing way possible, starting with the removal of his horn. Preferably with a dulled hacksaw, so it takes me forever to really cut through it.

It would take time to find a chance to get to any of them. As I said, I needed new intel, current information about the Mafia, so most of the profiles I'd written down didn't matter much anymore. For all I knew, half of them were dead. Until I was able to confirm that though, I'd be hanging on to them.

I stared at the papers for a moment, sliding them back into their folders and holding them up in my magic. I could still turn back and leave all of this alone. I could just live my life and leave the Mafia be. It wouldn't be hard...but that was rarely how I did things. Twilight Sparkle doesn't back down like a coward. I put the folders back where I'd gotten them from and went back upstairs with the suitcase in tow, packing my things in preparation for my trip.

Time to get to work.

Author's Notes:

For those of you who don't understand the reference with Octavia's gang name....

Coda [ˈkoːda] (Italian for "tail", plural code) is a term used in music primarily to designate a passage that brings a piece (or a movement) to an end.

Y'all can thank Lithe for the pure genius that is that gang name. I already thanked him of course, so you all go do that too!

Music this time around?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgPpWTEanrY

It felt more appropriate for the more mellow daytime hours of Vinyl's club. Also, all you British readers that I may or may not have? I'm sorry.