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Game Night Sidestories 01: Orktavia plays Settlers

By twilightgamenight
Created: 18th December 2020 10:22:03 PM

  1. >Six drinks in, Lyra was pretty sure Octavia would join her for some "fun". Pretty sure.
  2. >Better make it eight.
  3. >”Hey, Shot Mixer, another round!”
  4. >”Of what?” the bartender answers, pulling two clean glasses from the stack.
  5. >Good question, what will her friend drink…?
  6. >”Hey Octavia, what do you want?”
  7. >”Dun’t care,” the musician growls, angrily eying some of the other ponies at the club. Despite her smaller stature, even the stallions refused to meet her gaze.
  8. >Octavia has a bit of a… reputation.
  9. >”Fine, Tavi, just pick a color,” Lyra responds with a shrug.
  10. >”Green! Make it green!” Octavia shouts, slamming her empty glass into the bar.
  11. >”You heard the mare, Mixer,” Lyra laughs, “Something with Midori!”
  12. >He ponders it for a second.
  13. >”Green Lizards or Tropical Sunrises?”
  14. >Lyra glances to her friend, carefully catching the earth pony before she tumbles from her stool in an ill-conceived attempt to make a rather rude gesture towards a rather scared stallion.
  15. >”I FUCKED YER MUM!” she yells after the retreating stallion.
  16. >”Dammit, Tavi, stop scaring away all my customers,” Mixer grumbles, pulling a bottle of Midori from the shelves with his magic. “This is your last drink, then I’m cutting you off for the night.”
  17. >”AIN’T NOBODY CUT OFF DA TAVI!” Octavia roars, slamming her hoof into the bar for emphasis. Well, trying – and a valiant attempt it was, though she misses by about six inches, almost flinging herself from her stool again. “Okay den, youz can cut off da Tavi dis once.”
  18. >Shot Mixer is fairly certain Octavia continued talking, but none of it is worth listening to – mostly a single rambling string of mispronounced four-letter words.
  19. >”So…?” he asks Lyra. “What’ll it be?”
  20. >”Two green lizards,” she answers with a quick nod of her head.
  21. >”Goin' back to the dorms after this?” the bartender asks as he pours the drinks.
  22. >”Yep,” Lyra answers. “It’s game night.”
  23. >”Game night, eh?” Mixer drops the two glasses on the table, one in front of each pony. “Gonna play some poker?”
  24. >Lyra leans forward over the bar.
  25. >”Don’t really know *what* we’ll be playing,” she whispers into his ear. “Tavi and I left our friends to figure that out.”
  26. >She sits back in her stool, shrugging.
  27. >”Okaaaaay then…” the stallion pulls a pad out of his apron pocket, going over the night’s tab. “Ready to settle up?”
  28. >”Yeah, sure thing!” Lyra slides her glass over to her friend, tapping Octavia’s shoulder gently. “Your drinks are ready.”
  29. >”But, no! Only one for – oh fuck it,” Mixer sighs, shoving the pad back into his pocket. “You two aren’t my problem after this.”
  30. >”I knew you’d see things my way,” the unicorn grins, digging into her bag. “How much?”
  31. >”Twenty-five.”
  32. >”Ouch!” Lyra winces, pulling out the coins and sliding them over to Shot Mixer. “Give a mare a little head’s up next time, okay?”
  33. >As If Lyra and Tavi had ever run up a tab under 20 bits.
  34. >Lyra looks askance to her friend – the earth pony is still facing away on her stool.
  35. >”Hey, Tavi? Drink up, it’s time to go.”
  36. >”Fuck yeah, it’s time ta go,” Tavi growls, standing slowly. “See me a little faggot just *wantin’* a go at the crown.”
  37. >The musician drunkenly lumbers forward, aiming for an off-duty royal guardpony, still in his armor. He has that had-a-rough-day-don’t-mess-with-me look in his eyes, as he knocks back his third cider. Lyra sees a REALLY BAD SITUATION in the works.
  38. >”Hey, Tavi! TAVI!” the unicorn shouts, scrambling after her friend. “Your drinks!”
  39. >”Drank ‘em.”
  40. >”Then… how about we head back to the dorm?”
  41. >Octavia pauses, her brow furrowing as she tries to remember.
  42. >”Come on, Tavi.” Lyra wraps one arm around her friend’s withers, guiding Tavi away from the guardpony. “We’re going back to the dorm to have a little fun…”
  43. >”Oi, I like da sound o’ dat,” Tavi returns, roughly nuzzling the unicorn.
  44. >”Not like that!”
  45. >Lyra shoves the drunk mare off of her, much to the disappointment of most of the club – the collective groan is almost audible over the obnoxious music.
  46. >”Damn it, Tavi, you know I don’t go that way.”
  47. >”Yeah, I know you love COCK!”
  48. >”Um… yeah…” Lyra tilts her head, staring at her friend in confusion. “Was that supposed to be an insult…?”
  49. >At a loss for words, Tavi settles for an angry growl.
  50. >With great difficulty, the unicorn leads her friend out of the club and into the street, at times resorting to… well…
  51. >”I think that lamp is looking at you funny!” Lyra yells as Octavia tries to meander down an alleyway that looked like – in the earth pony’s words – “an ‘venture.”
  52. >”I’LL FOOKING CRACK ET’S ‘EAD, I WILL!” Tavi cries, charging away from the alley, back in the direction of the dorms.
  53. >”Wait, no, it was that lamp over there!”
  54. >”STOP RUNNIN’ AWAY YA FUCKER!”
  55. >At times like this Lyra wishes the dorms of Canterlot’s Institute for the Musically Inclined allowed alcohol – either that or she had a video camera. Miraculously, not a single guardpony is called that night, nor any innocent lamps shattered beyond repair.
  56. >Well except for one, but it *was* asking for it.
  57. >”You know… you know wut my problem is wiff da violin…?” Octavia asks as her friend helps her up the stairs.
  58. >”Is it that you practice too much?”
  59. >”Naw, damn fing just TOO SMALL!” the earth pony roars, waving a hoof in front of Lyra’s face. “I GOT ‘OOVES, LYRA! ‘OOVES! ‘OW DA ZOG CAN A PLAY DAT TINY FING?”
  60. >”Then get something bigger,” Lyra grunts, shoving Tavi onto the next landing. “Something your hooves can deal with.”
  61. >”YEAAAAAH!” Octavia stands rigid, looking into space. “Yeaaaah, sumfin’ BIGGER. Sumfin wiff MORE NOISE!”
  62. >Without warning, she rounds on her friend, grabbing her up and slamming her against a wall.
  63. >”Let’s go steal an organ!”
  64. >”Let’s not…?” Lyra suggests, slipping free. “We’ve got some games waiting for us and… anyway… do you know how to play an organ?”
  65. >”Wut duz dat matta?”
  66. >”Well, you wouldn’t be able to play it?”
  67. >Tavi grunts, crawling her way up the stairs – almost successfully. Almost under her own power.
  68. >”Maybe you could try the cello instead?” Lyra offers. “They’re both string instruments. How different could they be?”
  69. >”Da last time you said dat, you ended up playin’ a bard.”
  70. >”Yeah, but it worked out okay, didn’t it?”
  71. >”Worfless git died fiddy times.”
  72. >”Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
  73. >”Mebbe. Is you eva’ gonna stop gettin’ me drunk so I’zl play yer silly games?”
  74. >”Not if you’re going to keep being so much fun to play with,” Lyra grins, “besides, you know you like it.”
  75. >Tavi groans as Lyra drags her over to the nearby table in the dorm’s communal room. Four other ponies sit around it, stacks of gaming detritus and musical instruments filling most of the space.
  76. >”Didja fags decide onna game?” Octavia slurs, dropping into a chair.
  77. >”Yeah!” a scrawny “stallion” (term used VERY loosely) named Skin Flute answers, dropping a box on the table. “Settlers!”
  78. >”Oi, you colossal fags!” the mare moans, clutching her head. “Tha first cunt wut says wood fer sheep is getting’ mah hoof up their arse.”
  79. >Skin Flute frowns, opening the box and setting up the game.
  80. >”Any chance this game won’t end in genocide…?” Brown Jug asks Tavi, wiggling his eyebrows. “This game doesn’t even have –“
  81. >”Errypony dies,” Octavia grunts. “Nopony lives.”
  82. >Brown Jug laughs, sitting back in his chair.
  83. >”This game doesn’t have warfare!” Uptight String shouts. “There’s no way –“
  84. >”Iffi win, you gimme yer cello,” Octavia groans, fumbling for one of the bags of game pieces. “If errypony dies.”
  85. >She holds up the plastic baggy, sticking her tongue out at the yellow pieces.
  86. >”No!” Uptight String shouts, “No way in – GAH! LET GO! LET GO OF ME!”
  87. >Octavia growls, digging her teeth tighter into the stallion’s foreleg, shaking her head – and him wildly.
  88. >”You’d best do as the mare says,” Lyra smirks, grabbing her own game pieces. “You’re new to the group – didn’t you wonder why we suddenly had an opening?”
  89. >Well, it was because Parish Nandermane had moved out of the Institute’s dorms to live with his latest marefriend, but Uptight String doesn’t know that.
  90. >”Fine! FINE! LET GO!” he screams, jerking his leg free of Octavia’s teeth. “CRAZY BITCH!”
  91. >Octavia grins a bloody smile, causing the stallion to look down at his leg in shock. Two crescents dimple the flesh, but to his surprise the skin isn’t broken.
  92. >”Don’t worry,” Lyra laughs, “the blood is hers – silly mare got into a bit of a fight with a lamppost on the way back.”
  93. >”I wonder who won,” Uptight String grumbles, rubbing his leg.
  94. >”Well, I won’t say it was Tavi…” the unicorn teases, “but it certainly wasn’t the lamppost!”
  95. >”Iffi win, I getchur cello,” Octavia repeats though her bloody teeth. “Needa bigga noisefing.”
  96. >”Why shouldn’t I just leave right now!?”
  97. >Skin Flute shrugs, smiling slightly.
  98. >”Well, you can forfeit if you want,” one of the other ponies tells Uptight String, “but you might as well play. Give yourself a fighting chance.”
  99. >”You’re all crazy!”
  100. >”We’re musicians,” Lyra tells him as she pours out her pieces and organizes them. “It’s a fucking prereq!”
  101. >”Well, what if *I* win?” Uptight asks, looking around at the other five ponies.
  102. >”I’ll hold Octavia back long enough to give you a head start.”
  103. >He looks around fearfully, eyes growing wide as the other ponies nod seriously.
  104. >”Deal.”
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