The decision having been made en route to their destination, Octavia found herself following Vinyl into her flat, carefully treading over a secondary carpet of DJing magazines and old glowsticks. She made to sit on the couch, but noticed her intentions impeded by a disarrayed assortment of vinyl records, pop tart boxes, and record player parts. She gently brushed the detritus to the side before comfortably resting herself on the sofa.
Vinyl wandered off into the kitchen to organise some food, Octavia having mentioned her sudden pangs of hunger during the walk home. Alcohol made a habit of draining her stomach, it seemed, and the organ often attempted to compensate with yet more food. Not often a clever idea, but the situation normally presented itself when Octavia was not in the mental state for clever ideas.
Vinyl's couch, while hardly being an exemplary sample of furniture - or at the very least, well kempt - was extraordinarily comfy due to the fact each of the springs inside it had broken through age. This resulted in an almost beanbag-like effect where Octavia found herself sinking euphorically into the depths of its suede comfort, until she resembled an aristocratic prairie dog.
Vinyl finally returned from the kitchen, a swarm of teacups and toast in her horn's aura. Octavia would normally complain at the notion of eating jam on toast like some sort of pre-school filly, but at that moment she was far too famished to complain to any degree.
The record player parts and other paraphernalia were delicately raised from the couch in a haze of magic and placed on a side cabinet with an almost reverent level of care. Octavia stared at the pile, chewing on a piece of toast with a thoughtful expression on her face. She finally finished the piece - and several more - before she found her mouth available to perform other, less nutritious tasks. One such task was breathing, the other, being speech.
"Why the pile of record player parts? Did you get bored and attempt to destroy them?"
Vinyl held up a hoof, furiously working her jaw to chew the toast before swallowing. Octavia had to admit a level of contentment that at least some of her more gracious ways were wearing onto Vinyl's composure.
"Well, course I broke 'em at first. It's the only way I could get to the parts."
Octavia's outstretched hoof wavered over its position indicating the pile of parts, as she tried to understand the intentions behind the actions.
Vinyl's magic grasped the parts in a grey aura, levitating them under their mutual muzzles. She brought each item forth one-by-one as she spoke, waving them in front of Octavia's eyes to give her a closer look.
"This part here is an anti-crackle filter, keeps the records playing more cleanly. This one's a multi-purpose deck for all different sizes of records, this part here is for anti-vibration when the record's playing, 'specially when you've got a banging bass nearby. A higher grade stylus here to catch the music better, and a high-grade magic board for running it all. Oh, and I took the case from this one...because I thought it looked cool."
Octavia's jaw slackened at the tsunami of unsuspected knowledge. While she was normally able to process unexpected situations fairly coherently, alcohol is a substance well known for its ability to confuse such thought coherency. In fact, some could argue that was the entire reason anypony drank it in the first place.
"Well...I see you're getting fairly in-depth with this. I never knew you to be the technical expert, Vinyl."
Vinyl waved a hoof at Octavia in a modest manner, swatting the compliment out of the air.
"Nah. Record players are easy, just an analogue circuit with a small pre-amplifier to boost the signal out through the phono. Wiring stereo's a pain in the rump, but it gets sweet results. Trying to get an amp up and running is a lot harder, trust me."
"Again...you have a lot more knowledge on the subject than I expected."
Vinyl chuckled, her hooves free and her toast had long been consigned to the place in the sky where toast goes after it vacates this world. She dusted the crumbs from her hooves, and found a convenient gap in a nearby pile of cereal boxes to sit her plates on top of.
"I'm a DJ, if I can't get a decent setup built for myself, what good am I? Kinda like how you build your own cello, right? A lot of guitarists build their own instruments."
Octavia nervously poked her own cello case, suddenly aware of how little detail she had afforded to it in her thoughts. It was simply a machine that fulfilled its intended purpose, nothing more or less.
"I received my cello as a present on my birthday. Most musicians I know simply have one made for them."
Vinyl's eyes lit up, her mouth gaping into a genial maw.
"You're kidding? Building your own stuff is half the fun! You get to spend forever tweaking it until it's perfect, and it sounds just right for you. I woulda thought you'd be all over your cello like that."
"I just...let it play. Tune it, and that's it."
"Ah, obviously I take far more care and attention in my profession, Miss Octavia."
Octavia snickered, before realising that she was in fact snickering, and instead turned her mirth towards a tinny laugh. Vinyl's lips quivered as she attempted to hold a poker face, before they reached their resonant frequency and shattered apart, allowing deep, heaving laughs to break through.
"Oh Vinyl...you really are a kidder."
"I was serious."
"Shut up, you."
Octavia playfully cuffed Vinyl around the ear, who jerked away from the hit in mock pain. She rubbed the 'sore spot,' signalling her hurt feelings with a firmly pouted lip.
"Octy, that wasn't very nice. You'll have to kiss it all better, now."
The sly wink Vinyl had attempted was turned to a confused blink midway through the motion as Octavia cuffed her again, slightly more forceful this time than before.
"Hey...if I told you I liked it when you hit me, would you stop?"
Octavia held her hoof in mid-air, musing over the question with a contented smile on her face. She hesitated a moment, before cuffing Vinyl again, lowering her hoof to defer towards a sly wink of her own.
"Well, I would consider that you would be a very strange mare to enjoy such abuse. But I already know you're a strange mare."
"I prefer not mainstream, much more flattering."
"But of course. If hitting is the only thing you enjoy, I don't know how far we can go before I have to bludgeon you with your own record player."
Vinyl locked her eyes with Octavia's, trying her best to maintain a coy expression.
"Oh, there are other things I enjoy too. But I think you're kinda familiar with them after that night."
"On the contrary, I can't remember a thing about that night. You may need to...reeducate me, if it's not too much of an effort."
Vinyl smiled, leaning in closer to Octavia and whispering in her ear.
"Just one warning though. I like teaching through demonstration, if that's okay with you."
Octavia blushed, coughing into the sole of her hoof in an attempt to hide it. She giggled, before being whisked away by the hoof as the lesson began.