A Regular New Year's


                                            >As you turn your head to look from Octavia back to Vinyl, you have to wait a second for your eyes to catch up.

                                            >Alcohol in Equestria is funny.

                                            >On one hand, it feels like it works the same, and in the same quantities.

                                            >You haven’t had enough to be drunk, or even tipsy.

                                            >You also don’t feel drunk, or even tipsy.

                                            >The only thing that’s changed is your sense of time.

                                            >Berry said this was special stuff, she dug it out of her cellar.

                                            >She has a lot of booze down there, you saw it all yourself.

                                            >Magic alcohol is apparently something of her workplace’s specialty, stuff with weird effects you have no idea why people would want.

                                            >The other four mares seemed really enthusiastic about it, especially after Berry mentioned it was new and they’d be helping test it, so you weren’t going to say no.

                                            >You look around the room at them

                                            >Then you wait for your eyes to send that information to your brain

                                            >What the fuck is in this wine? Is it only hitting you this bad because you’re human? You swear can even taste the magic. You’ve finally found your special talent, and it’s testing if drinks are spell-spiked.

                                            >Vinyl and Tavi are sitting on a couch near you.

                                            >Vinyl’s fussing with her laptop, currently connected to Berry’s home sound system.

                                            >Octavia’s fussing with her wife, currently commenting on what’s coming out of Berry’s home sound system.

                                            >Berry herself is on the other side of the living room, having a conversation with Derpy. One is doing most of the talking, and the other most of the listening.

                                            >Cheerilee’s commandeered what passes for a pony recliner; a chair that folds out not to lie back in but to lie down on. She’s got her head down and eyes closed, but as you watch, you catch her open one eye to look at the fillies playing some party game.

                                            >You can take the mare out of the school - for a week’s winter vacation - but you can’t take the school out of the mare, you guess.

                                            >The last of the four foals present is sitting on the floor beside your almost-too-small chair, the biggest in the room.

                                            >Upbeat is watching watching his mothers work, but you can tell his attention is thinning.

                                            >”This bit, right here. Bring it forward a little bit.”

                                            >Octavia points a hoof at Vinyl’s laptop.

                                            >The hoof’s easily a third the size of it’s screen, how Vinyl knows what part she’s indicating is beyond you.

                                            >That doesn’t stop the unicorn from complying.

                                            >You suppose you should be happy they’re letting the room hear their new work at all, incomplete as it is.

                                            >At least they’re not looping the same song constantly to polish it.

                                            >You look down at Upbeat, and wait a couple seconds for the world to catch up.

                                            “You know what they’re talking about?”

                                            >He shakes his head negative, but seems quite enthusiastic about it.

                                            “Don’t imagine you’ve ever helped them, then.”

                                            >The little pegasus colt looks up at you, beaming. “I like it when they play!”

                                            “Not so much when they work?”

                                            >He nods, just as enthusiastically.

                                            “You don’t want to be like them someday?”

                                            >Another extremely cheerful shake of his head.

                                            “What do you want to do then?”

                                            >”Dance!”

                                            >Just like that, he starts moving in place with the music playing. Simply swaying at first, but adding more complex movements as he gets a feel for the music.

                                            >There’s no real rhyme or reason to the moves, but they’re pretty well done for a little colt, and cute as fuck to boot.

                                            >Looking back to his mothers, you can see Vinyl’s still got her snout in her laptop.

                                            >Tavi, however, has one eye on Upbeat, watching his moves.

                                            >Restrained as ever, her smile is slight, but it’s there.

                                            >How long is this song already?

                                            >Is that just the time-fuckery wine talking?

                                            >Who would ever drink this willingly?

                                            >All present company excluded.

                                            >Upbeat tries to perform an aerial flourish, but his flying hasn’t improved since his escapades at your house last week.

                                            >You catch him in mid-air before he can fall, then put him on the couch next to Tavi.

                                            “You’ve got moves, kid, but you might need more open space to practice them.”

                                            >Tavi extends her smiling gaze to you, and you answer it with a nod.

                                            >The time between catching Upbeat and releasing him feels like it took a minute and a half.

                                            >This stuff’s awful.

                                            >You head towards the bar in one corner of the room, placing your half-consumed drink down. You intend to leave it there.

                                            >You make your way across the room for Berry.

                                            >She sees you coming and moves to intercept you instead. The two of you meet near the fillies playing their game.

                                            >”Having a good time, Anon?”

                                            “Nice atmosphere, but something about the drink’s not agreeing with me. The uh, extra effect is coming on a little strong.”

                                            >She looks shocked, then crestfallen. “Oh! Here, lemme see what else I can getcha.”

                                            “I’ll be fine with something plain, I don’t need fancy.”

                                            >When Berry makes her way to the bar area, Ruby comes up to your side.

                                            “She seems like she’s holding up okay.”

                                            >”She’s pacing herself.”

                                            >Something in Ruby’s voice draws your attention to her, but she’s looking at her mother.

                                            “What, is she normally three sheets to the wind on nights like this?”

                                            >”Like, five. There’s a reason she starting hosting stuff at our house.”

                                            “Why’s that?”

                                            >”When the night’s over, she’s already home.”

                                            “She seems alright tonight.”

                                            >”She’s been… better lately.”

                                            “Oh?”

                                            >”Yeah. Just one or two a night, some nights. And the second she’ll nurse it, maybe not finish.”

                                            >Berry’s return cuts off any further prying. How long were you talking with her daughter?

                                            > She’s got one of those miniature trays on her back, a single wine glass atop it. You pick it up with thanks and take a sip.

                                            >Blissfully magic-free.

                                            >Also smooth as fuck, you’ve never had wine this easy to drink. You’ll have to be careful.

                                            “Thanks a ton. I’ll, uh, wait for the other stuff to wear off I guess.”

                                            >”If it’s still sticking to ya ‘fore you go home, I got something for that.”

                                            “I’ll keep it in mind. Stuffs good, just doesn’t work for me. Tragic, honestly.”

                                            >Something in Berry’s expression changes. Not quite a slackness, but a stripping of some lower layer.

                                            >It’s gone after a few quick blinks. “Glad t’hear it. If you’ll excuse me...”

                                            >She maneuvers around you to make for the two music mares.

                                            “Did you see that?”

                                            >”Yeah, that was, uh,”

                                            >You look down at Ruby, still watching her mom as she speaks to her other guests. “My dad used to say that. Would always call things ‘tragic’.”

                                            >You wince. You haven’t heard much good of the mystery unicorn stallion.

                                            “Sorry for bringing up bad memories.”

                                            >Ruby turns back towards the other fillies, just now noticing their eyes on her. “Don’t worry about it. My turn over there anyway.”

                                            >You watch her take her seat at the board with Joyance and Dinky, then make your way over to Cheerilee’s post.

                                            “You look like you could use a vacation.”

                                            >”Very funny, Anon.”

                                            “I mean it.”

                                            >She opens her eyes and lifts her head to face you. “This is my vacation.”

                                            “Falling asleep at a friend’s house?”

                                            >Come to think of it, you never remember this group being friends. Sure they knew each other, but this was the first time you recall them all socializing in private.

                                            >Curious.

                                            >Cheerilee tosses her head towards the three fillies. “You know what’s nice about them being Joy’s friends?”

                                            “I know a lot about their friendship, but I can’t think of any that might answer some hypothetical question you’re leading into.”

                                            >”I don’t have to be a schoolteacher around them.”

                                            “I do imagine that’s nice.”

                                            >She sighs and puts her head back down, closing her eyes once more. “This is my vacation.”

                                            >But it’s not long before she cracks an eye, looking at the three fillies.

                                            >This close, you can’t miss the smile on her face.

                                            >Derpy slides off her seat and heads over.

                                            >Is that really Derpy?

                                            >She’s stone-steady.

                                            >Normally she has a slight weave when she walks, moving in a wavy pattern, one she’s able to keep fixed in her intended direction when taken as an average course.

                                            >She just made a line straight as an arrow, even if it was only across eight feet or so.

                                            >She sits down on the other side of Cheerilee’s claimed recliner, looking down at the earth pony doing her best to look asleep.

                                            >You hold an open hand towards Cheerilee.

                                            “It’s her vacation.”

                                            >Cheerilee snorts, while Derpy nods sagely. “Deserves it.”

                                            >Huh, no stutter either, though still as laconic as expected.

                                            >She might have taken longer than expected to respond, but that could be the dumb time wine.

                                            “You, uh, you seem… sharper.”

                                            >She lifts and drops her wings over her back. Body language is a lot easier when the pony has something that approximates arms they signal with all the time. “Special drink.”

                                            “Really? Hell if I found something that could make me think clearer, I’d chug it every day.”

                                            >”Then I be drunk.”

                                            “Yeah, fair. Wish it worked for me.”

                                            >Derpy cocks her head.

                                            “Everything feels like it’s going slow.”

                                            >She responds with her head still tilted, “No, your head’s fast.”

                                            “Uh, yeah. I guess. Strictly speaking.”

                                            >Derpy points her nose towards Cheerilee. “Her world sleeps.” Then to the pair on the couch, “Their music’s slow.” Back to you. “Your head’s fast.”

                                            “Everyone’s using it differently, huh?”

                                            >She nods.

                                            “Your head’s fast too?”

                                            >A shake of her head, this time. “Different drink.”

                                            “Ah, your own special stash. Lucky.”

                                            >Another up and down of the wings. “Just for me. Berry’s nice.”

                                            “Even when she’s a few deep?”

                                            >Derpy’s better eye narrows a fraction. “Berry’s nice.”

                                            >”Too nice,” Cheerilee sighs. “I think it’s why she drinks.”

                                            >Derpy starts to shake her head again, but it’s a slight motion, quickly aborted. Cheerilee’s eyes are still closed, so she couldn’t have seen.

                                            “You don’t know for sure?”

                                            >”We haven’t socialized much, but I have seen her sober, rare as it may be.”

                                            “I was wondering about that. The socializing. This seems, uh, well I never knew you all to be friends, not like your children at least. Strange guest list.”

                                            >You drink a bit more from your new glass.

                                            >Delicious unensorcelled wine.

                                            >”It’s an unlikely group, to be sure. But I think you might observe something.”

                                            “Like what?”

                                            >Derpy looks over to the other three mares around the coffee table. “Truth.”

                                            “Truth?”

                                            >Nodding to Tavi and Vinyl, “Too busy working.” Then she dips her snout down towards Cheerilee. “Too busy trying not to work.”

                                            >Both you and Cheerilee laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” Cheerilee says, picking her head back up. “And what about you?”

                                            >”Delivered myself to party. Work finished.”

                                            “Heh, alright, you’ve got a sense of humor too. You’re a lot more lucid than most ponies suspect.”

                                            >Another feathery shrug-analogue. “Special drink.”

                                            “All respect, bullshit.”

                                            >Derpy’s only response is a faint smile.

                                            >Something that sly looks out of place on a face so innocent.

                                            >”Deeper than I was expecting, Derpy, but that’s not what I meant. Anon, this guest list has one thing in common. What is it?”

                                            >The kids are all friends, but that’s not something Berry would consider, you don’t think. Cheerilee’s the one who takes care of them second to you, what with occasional after-school projects. This would be her thinking. Besides, you don’t have kids, so that rules you out. It rules ONLY you out, and the kids are-”

                                            “Are you trying to tell me this little shindig is for me?

                                            >Now they’re both smiling.

                                            >You’ve been had!

                                            >Well, okay, you’re actually enjoying the wine now, it’s fine.

                                            >On that note, time for a refill.

                                            “Alright ladies, after blowing my mind that bad, I gotta get something to cool down.”

                                            >”The conversation was just getting started!”

                                            “Go back to pretending to be asleep. Don’t think I don’t see you sneaking peeks at them.”

                                            >Back over to the bar. You’ve no sooner put the now-empty glass down than Berry’s at your side. “How was it?”

                                            “This stuff is great. Got any more?”

                                            >You look around the room as she pours you another glass.

                                            “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the purpose of the time-wine? Why would anyone want to feel like the world is going slower? Back hole we had people drink to make it go by faster.”

                                            >Berry twists her head to place the bottle back on a shelf below the bar’s counter. When her mouth once more is free, “It plays’n instinct. Ponies think they spend more time together’n they do. Creates a sense’a group belonging that gets them t’loosen up more. Same’s a herd, but temporary. Social lubricant. That’s the theory, anyway, we’re still testing it.”

                                            “That sounds smart as hell and also like something that wouldn’t work on me at all. That being said, everyone’s kinda doing their own thing here. We gonna get together for the countdown or something?”

                                            >Berry looks chagrined. “We don’t do anything like that around here.”

                                            “Oh. Why the get-together then?”

                                            >”Ruby told me something about your holidays, after Hearthswarming. That you have twelve days, with a big New Year’s celebration in the middle. Wanted you to have a good time on us for once, instead of the other way around. So, uh, sorry about the experimental stuff.”

                                            “Bah, how could you know. Don’t worry about it. So if there’s no big event, when are you expecting everyone to go home?”

                                            >”Why’ya ask?”

                                            >You look down at the glass, swirling it a bit.

                                            “I want to know how much of this I can chug like grape juice and still make it home in one piece.”

                                            >Berry tries – and fails – to suppress a laugh. “I’m glad y’like it.”

                                            “Kidding, but yes, it’s nice. Not against something with more bite, but that can wait for another time.”

                                            >”I’m also glad y’like this enough t’consider ‘another time’.”

                                            “Look, I don’t exactly have much of a social life, here. I exist to enable the social lives of others.”

                                            >”I’m hoping we can change that. We owe you, big.”

                                            >First part of that almost sounded like a date.

                                            >She does look pretty cute.

                                            >How much wine have you had, again?

                                            >She’s looking down at your glass, then the bottle behind the counter.

                                            >You probably shouldn’t be tempting her… but she looks in command.

                                            >You’ve seen her when it’s rough. When she’s rough. You didn’t release Ruby to her one night, and that got her to straighten out real quick when it came time to take her filly home, but tonight’s the first indication you got that it started a trend, and Ruby didn’t exactly give you a timeframe on it.

                                            >How long would it last?

                                            >You’re not sure you want to contemplate the question.

                                            “I think I’ll cap myself here, you can put the bottle back. I’ll take you up on any offer to enjoy it some other time, though, when we’re both free.”

                                            >Berry smiles. “That sounds suspiciously like a date.”

                                            >Weren’t you just thinking that?

                                            >She goes to put the bottle away, but she hesitates. Glances to where the other glasses are stored.

                                            >You can see the fight there, the struggle. You know she’s already had some of the same fake-herd-wine the others have.

                                            >Then she looks up at you, and you can see a bit of that same falling away. Something’s behind her eyes, but you can’t quite read it.

                                            >It feels like you’ve watched her for minutes, but you know it’s only been a handful of seconds from her hesitation to when she looks back down and shakes her head. “Heh. Tragic.”

                                            >Once the bottle’s away, she looks back to you. “Not a date, Anon, not like you monogamists mean it, but I wouldn’t mind showing you some of the things you’re missing out on, when you cut everypony else free.”

                                            “Damn, I was just thinking- nah, nevermind. I’d really appreciate it, Berry. Sometimes I need to get out.”


                                            * * *


                                            >Holy fuck, why are you out?

                                            >It’s fucking freezing, It’s frickin’ frigid. You feel fit for flu.

                                            >Not fit for much else. Berry’s spell-away was, fittingly enough, more alcohol.

                                            >One shot, way too strong.

                                            >Time’s moving normally now.

                                            >You feel like you shouldn’t be.

                                            >You’re managing.

                                            >Derpy’s walking alongside you, her path still straight.

                                            >Dinky’s on your other side.

                                            >Derpy looks content, but Dinky’s looking just as miserable as you are.

                                            >Damn pegasi and their cold resistance.

                                            >You try to still your chattering teeth long enough to speak.

                                            “Hey. Thanks. For tonight.”

                                            >”Just making sure you get home, Anon,” Dinky says.

                                            >You can her the chatter she’s trying to hold back too.

                                            >You should have just stayed the night at Berry’s, but she insisted that wasn’t possible.

                                            >Why, she wouldn’t explain, but she was insistent.

                                            >Probably some politeness thing. Maybe you should have run her through the “baby it’s cold outside” routine, because god damn it is.

                                            “Hey, Derpy.”

                                            >The grey pegasus looks at you.

                                            “Sorry about before. I was a bit rude, the way I was talking to you.”

                                            >There’s that weirdly sly smile again. “Used to it.”

                                            “That just makes me feel worse.”

                                            >Another wing-shrug.

                                            >”Don’t tease him, Mom.”

                                            >Derpy looks down at Dinky surprised, then straight ahead once more, silent.

                                            “You’re gonna have to run that one by me again, Dinky.”

                                            “It’s nothing.”

                                            >How cold.

                                            >Just like the temperatures.

                                            >Well, they’re walking you home. You can’t really complain that much, in the end.

                                            >Your house comes into sight just as gusts pick up, making moving towards it much harder.

                                            >Derpy hustles to get in front of you, extending her wings out and angling them to make a wall of feathers in front of you.

                                            >The sheltering effect kicks in immediately, but you pick up Dinky just in case, earning you a little squeak as she struggles for a brief moment.

                                            >Shivering aside, you all make it to your door without incident.

                                            >Putting Dinky back down, you turn to Derpy.

                                            “Thanks for the trip.”

                                            >Derpy gives you a strange salute, then turns to one of your bushes.

                                            >She the sticks her head inside it, to her shoulders.

                                            >When she pulls back out, she’s got the strap of a thick mail bag between her teeth.

                                            >When did that get there?

                                            >Had to be when they stopped by to get you. You hadn’t even noticed.

                                            >Was she planning this that far back?

                                            >She drops the bag on the ground and stomps on it a few times, then noses Dinky towards it.

                                            >The filly gets in and immediately buries herself into some material inside, though none of it was visible for you to examine.

                                            >She looks a lot more comfortable now, though.

                                            >Derpy slings the bag around her neck and spreads her wings to take off.

                                            “Have a safe flight! If I hear something happened because you were nice to me, I’ll be really mad.”

                                            >Derpy nods, giving you one last smile before taking to wing.

                                            >You fiddle with your keys, managing to get the right one in your lock on the third try. Once you have the door open, however, you drop them on withdrawal.

                                            >Damn cold.