She gave a small groan as she poked at her slight pudge, trotting towards the kitchen. “Hrm. Well, practice and a bit of tea always helps calm the mind, anyhow. Let’s hope Vinyl hasn’t gotten any more surprises in the milk again… might be best to at least not use as much, just in case.” The earth pony lightly hummed to herself as she set a kettle on to boil, perusing through the various flavorings on offer in the cabinet. After a few moments with no choice particularly jumping out at her, she shut the cabinet door in mild defeat, giving her head a slight shake. Practice, come on, focus on the practice… least it’ll do is give your mind something else to think about.
Making way into the small sitting room at the back of the house, the ever-comfortable couch sat in front of the TV set, her cello resting not too far away in the corner next to another small table. A grin came to her muzzle as her hooves gently rubbed along the strings, her eyes looking over the instrument - partly to just inspect it, but mainly just regaining fond memories. Mm, perhaps she should be hoping that Vinyl got the wrong milk again, always did feel quite wonderful to play while she had a wonderfully soft belly there to feel all the vibrations… ideally airfilled, anyhow. She gave her head a shake, putting those thoughts back for a moment. Now’s not the time to think about indulging in her relatively newer fascinations, she’s got music to make. Or at least practice making, anyways…
Steadying herself on her hind hooves, she lifted her cello from it’s stand, taking the slender bow in one hoof while the other steadied her using the long neck of the instrument. All’s well, right, let’s just try something from memory for the moment… oh, what was that one tune she’d heard Vinyl sampling from earlier? Sounded rather soothing, if nothing else. She rested the bow across the strings, adjusting herself only slightly before starting to draw out long, melodic notes, feeling the air fill with something that almost started to sound like what she’d heard earlier, a gentle, mournful tune. Granted, she didn’t think the particular instrument it was played on was a cello, despite it distinctly sounding stringed, but even without the soft hum backing the main notes it still resonated wonderfully as it flowed from her hooves. Was simply so easy to get lost in her own music sometimes…
A good handful of minutes had passed before the cellist finally took note of an odd whistling noise coming from the kitchen. The last few notes she’d been playing trailed off as she looked over to the doorway in confusion, then hasty realization as she moved to set her cello back down upon its stand, rushing to the kitchen in a half-gallop. The kettle upon the stove was putting out a steady scream of steam as she arrived, her hooves quick in shutting off the flames, the screaming starting to slow. A relieved sigh escaped her as she rested against the counter, looking back up at the tea cabinet. Well, suppose now’s a good a time as any… Earl Grey sounded like a rather nice choice to her now as well. Retrieving the tin of individual bags, along with her personal mug, a bit of careful mouthwork saw her sitting pretty with one gently brewing cuppa.
The light grin that rested on her muzzle faded, however, as she finally opened the fridge and was greeted by a single milk bottle. Of course Vinyl hadn’t bought more of the wrong milk, she hadn’t bought any fresh milk to begin with. Loosing a gentle sigh, she pulled the single bottle out, letting the door shut behind her. Undoing the lid, she gave the dairy product a couple light sniffs - hadn’t spoiled yet, so that’s at least one thing going for it. Whether or not it was potioned was a different matter entirely, granted… well, she’d already done a bit of practicing, so even when she got back to it it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it resulted in her getting ballooned up again. Possibly a bit more problematic if she suddenly became a pooltoy, or gryphon, or especially one of those large plaid dragon creatures… whatever they were. Eh, she’d make it work out, somehow…
Moving back to her mug of dark brew, the milk was added in a modest amount, being moved back to the fridge as she trotted back to the living room, taking a moment to rest on the couch. Her first sip went down as smoothly as usual, a long, relaxed sigh leaving her as she rested back against the cushions, holding her mug at the ready and taking idle sips. Perhaps she should ask Vinyl for the base recording, or perhaps to record her rendition of that song sometime, it was just so wonderfully calming to listen to, after all… could almost fall asleep to it. A chuckle escaped her at the thought - not really giving her profession a good reputation, if she’s able to play stuff even herself would end up sleeping to. Ah, well, nothing to be done for that, I suppose.
As she sipped from her mug, gentle relaxed hums escaped her, her resting eyes not even noticing as the ceiling seemed to be coming closer, nor her forehooves really feeling as they started to grow digits and form into fingered hands. A plaid pattern covered her core body, extending out further as her long, smooth tail suddenly started to balloon out itself, the tip forming into a wide mouthpiece. The pattern soon began to stretch as her belly grew, filling up with air, growing even more plump and pudgy than it already was to begin with, while out of her back extended six tapered pipes restrained with lengths of soft rope tipped with tassels.
As she idly opened her eyes on her next sip, the end of a draconic snout met her vision, as did a good bit of the extent of her unplanned transformation. No longer occupying a single cushion, her plaid posterior covered nearly the entire couch, and the accompanying belly had her less than amused, to say the least. Letting off a low grunt, she moved to examine her mug, partly annoyed with Vinyl but largely just miffed with herself. Whoever packages that milk has seriously got to invest in better bottle labels…
Letting off yet another defeated sigh, she looked at one of her now-draconic hands, flexing her fingers and squishing them against her stomach. The fabric bulged around it in response, air shifting about inside her, a few tuneless hums drawing themselves from her newfound drone pipes. Oh, wonderful, now she can make even louder music, because that’ll definitely be calming… eh, suppose as long as she refrains form squeezing herself, it should be fine. Leaning forwards to place her mug on the pushed-aside coffee table, her eyes fell back to her cello over in the corner. Well, she’s large enough to practically use it as a violin now, if not for the support spike on it’s end, anyways… she let off one last sigh.
“Of all the things that milk could’ve done… well, no sense getting worked up over it. As they say, the practice must go on…”