//------------------------------// // Disappointment // Story: Stroll // by re- Yamsmos //------------------------------// Octavia could talk to her friends about anything, and she wholeheartedly meant anything. Her time in grade, middle, and high school was absolutely filled to the brim with excited, hyped-up discussions between her, Lyra, Harvest, and Colgate, ranging from such topics as silly straws in bubbly soda to the current political views on the day's metropolitan society. There had been a nice, delightfully shaded spot on the eastern wall of her elementary school, below the scratchy white box that remained the last remnant of the massive banner that hung over it, and it was there that the group first began their social upbringings. Every day when they were finished with lunch, they sprinted their little legs off and practically flew to their selected area of the building to start up their new topic of the day. Lyra thoroughly enjoyed talking about colts, the stereotypical thing of filly conversations that Octavia tended to back away from whenever it popped up. She could go on and on about the Unicorn ("Do you see him? By the swing?") that she had prior bumped into while standing in line for recess the week before, and then she could point a hoof and joke about the mane style of the Pegasus standing out in the baseball field, stretching his wings with his other flight-capable friends as they debated whether or not they could make a run for it. Or fly for it. Flight? Whatever. Colgate rather liked whenever they talked about food. She'd always wanted to follow her father's footsteps and take up a position as a dentist when she was older, and she loved to annoy her friends with nutritional facts and prompt reminders of brushing one's teeth after eating away at a nice hayburger. To be honest, it was actually rather admirable in a way. The filly was so prepared—so very sure—for her after-school career, and here she was already showing the signs of those mares who would hand you a toothbrush for Nightmare Night instead of the usual helping of candy. Harvest could—and very will did—converse about everything. She held views on dogs, and cats, and pencils, and teachers, and all kinds of things that would assure her friends that she probably knew anything in the world there was to know. The filly was a bit "on the fence" about the first, thought the second was better off peeing in litter boxes—the opinion of which was instantly rewarded with a high hoof by Octavia herself—always had a hard time with the third, and liked all but two of the fourth. To be honest, Mr. Benedict and Mrs. Syrup were just a tad on the hostile side, but Octavia wasn't exactly on bad terms with them. Harvest, on the other hand, might have had recurring eraser mishaps with them, but that was beside the point. Octavia felt comfortable around them, and, together, she could ramble for hours as if doing so were some kind of social game. Talking was important to a pony's life. It built up and strengthened their social skills that they so desperately needed, and could start new relationships or rekindle already existing ones just with a few exchanged words. Soft hello's in the hallway, congratulatory high hoofs for doing good on a test, and playful bumps in the lunch line while waiting for Roseluck to get her peaches off the ground again. Talking was how one communicated with their fellow pony, and talking was how one remained sane in this wide world of Equestria. Octavia barely talked to others nowadays, and that was all for a very good reason. Keeping to herself was kind of nice, and she'd much rather not let people see how much of a behind-the-curtains mess she actually was, and she wasn't talking about her bedraggled mane, bunched-up pink bathrobe, and baggy eyelids. If she opened up her front door when they knocked, beckoned a hoof in, and showed them the garbage pail, they could see the bottles of wine and champagne lying at the bottom of the plastic bag. Pulling apart the fridge doors would reveal tubs upon tubs of ice cream. If you looked in her shower you could very faintly make out the worn down marks of an immobile Earth Pony. Maybe she was just... scared of talking to others. Maybe they'd take note of her personality, or chortle at her odd obsession with canines. Living with a mute was great. Sesame hummed. He had an odd affinity for low notes. She turned her head to look at him, reminded of the conversation at hand. He sucked in his bottom lip, hummed again, gave her a goofy grin, and said finally, "I'd have to say Language Arts." Octavia instantly scoffed. "Please, is it that hard to write down words on a piece of paper?" "Hey," Sesame shot, pointing a hoof at himself as he continued walking alongside her, "you asked me what I didn't like. I have my reasons." Now, Octavia may not have known Sesame as closely as her friends, but she had to admit that he was one hay of a conversationalist. He may have been a tad hypocritical about her drinking while he slowly killed himself with the arguably worse nicotine, but he could talk up a storm that any Pegasus would be jealous of. She cocked her head with a like eyebrow. "Oh, huh? What would that be?" "I hate taking notes." Octavia rolled her eyes. "You have to do that in every class, Sesame. It's not a sort of exclusive." Sesame shrugged and glared at her. "Oh yeah? What's your least favorite, then?" Octavia pursed her lips and regarded the sun hanging high above her and to the right. She let out a low note—a delightful E sharp—and looked back at the Unicorn by her side. "Science." "What, you didn't like making things explode?" Sesame asked, an almost genuine tone in his voice telling her that he was possibly offended. Octavia shrugged. Making things explode meant that you had messed something up, so, no, she didn't even think about it. "I thought it was pretty interesting. Kinda fun, too." "I don't know about your school, Sesame," Octavia began, catching the Unicorn's gaze, "but my science class was filled with equations, formulas, and sequences that would be much better off as coded messages to Griffonia." Sesame sniggered, shoulders bunching up and down as he clenched the cigarette in his lips. "Which one'd you take?" "Chemistry." The Unicorn laughed a lot harder than Octavia would have thought possible for such a simple, one-worded answer. For a second, she had half a mind to prod at him and ask what else lay in his cigarette's lining. "One of my friends, actually, took Chemistry too." He coughed into a hoof to regain his composure before he continued, "He, uh, mixed up some of his chemicals during a lab and set his eyebrows on fire. His partner next to him started socking him in the face because she panicked and was trying to put him out." The word "lab" caused a bit of a falter and hesitation in Octavia's amusement, and for a split second she swore that she could hear barking in the distance, but she shook her head and jostled her mane at him. "How'd the trip to the nurse go?" "Oh, it went great. She handed him some ice and then wrapped it up with gauze against his face. He said he almost got frostbite because he couldn't get the damn thing off." She snickered, then fell silent. The pair continued trotting back toward the docks in a peaceful quiet until Sesame broke it. "Speaking of chemistry, you notice Valkyrie with Andy awhile ago?" Yes, she had. She felt an odd smile cross her lips, one that she immediately raised a fuss about. Was she happy for the prudish griffon, or was she just relatively glad that there was something else that Valkyrie could occupy herself with besides making fun of her? Oh no now there were images in her head. "Oh, it was impossible to miss it." That sounded like a neutral enough answer to her. Oh Gods this was actually bugging her now. "Oh yeah, no, I think her dirty jokes on the ladder were evidence enough," Sesame replied, "I'm just a little surprised is all. I would've expected Lavi more than the rest of them." "Definitely. I find that mares go after bad colts more often than colts going after bad mares. Then again, they're griffons, but–" "I can't tell, though—is Lavi a lesbian?" Octavia felt a small tickle in her stomach and immediately started coughing. Sesame raised a brow and opened his mouth, presumably to ask if she was okay, but she raised a hoof up and bunched up her cheeks. With shaky breath, "Assuredly not, Sesame." "That thing with Hail, though..." That did happen. "Just a joke, I'm sure." Was she sure, though? Really, really sure? "And she slapped that griffon's ass." That occurred. Fair enough. "The stallions at my high school on the Hoofball team did that all the time." The two stopped, having reached the end of the sidewalk, and looked to their left and right for any sign of a nearby carriage or wagon. Finding a large sardine pack on the far right and only a single taxi heading their way from the other side, they trotted across the street and reached the opposite sidewalk. Their conversation once again resumed, with Sesame taking his next turn. "How'd you meet 'em, anyway?" Octavia blinked. Was he– no... was he? "W and the others?" She hoped her voice wasn't quivering. "Yeah." Octavia sucked on her lower lip. This wasn't something she was too excited to retell, or even recall in the first place. That whole thing had been part of a not-so-great day. What kind of way could she shorten it so that her getting kidnapped was cropped out? She prodded at her cheek for a few seconds, hummed, and explained, "I met them around Ponyville. They needed my help opening the box that Lavi has." That was good enough, and wasn't entirely untrue. The Everfree Forest was relatively around Ponyville, and they did need her help opening the box... the contents of which she still didn't know. She didn't want to pry, because it was probably important to W and the others and didn't actually concern her, but she was just a touch curious about what she'd almost been attacked for back in that clearing. "Why're they here anyway? Do you know?" Octavia pouted out her lower lip, shaking her head loosely and wide-eyed. "I don't rightly know, Sesame. It doesn't really matter to me, I find. They'll beee..." she let a sigh out of her nose, "...off on their merry way tomorrow, and I'll be heading back home." "What's your plan for a new ticket?" Octavia side-stepped a bright red fire hydrant lying on the sidewalk, giving herself ample enough time to think something up before she had to admit to herself that she actually had no idea. "I'll try to, I guess, sneak away when we all return to the hotel and buy one. Hopefully, the station is actually being manned by then, and I'll be able to get back before anypony notices." "They're griffons–" "Shut up." ... Oh she didn't actually mean it. She flicked her chin toward him. He mouthed a feigned, "oh," before actually replying, "Sounds like a good plan. Here's hoping." There was a long pause before he clicked his tongue and asked, "What do you think I should do?" "What do you mean?" She inquired. "Well, you're going back to Ponyville. Where does that leave me, y'know?" Octavia dipped her head and splayed her ears back. There it was again. That little burning inside her stomach that usually cooked her alive from the inside. She felt a frown break through the clouds and didn't even try to stop it. "Hey." His snap shattered her brick wall, and she perked her ears up to glance at him. His expression, previously angry, softened up relatively quickly. He tilted his head and added, "I told you that it's fine, okay? Don't get down and shit on me. I told you it was fine. That place sucked." The hat hanging over her head still felt a lot heavier than usual, but the small spring in her step made a slight, welcomed return. "Thank you." The smell of salty air and the sound of seagulls grew in volume, ceasing their conversation and prompting Octavia to look toward their destination. She found it just a tad queer that trips up and down the streets were always so incredibly quick when she was talking to somepony. She flicked her tail idly as the Baltimare Docks sign passed by over the duo. Her hooves felt the concrete prior beneath them give way to an audibly creaking set of wooden slats that she swore would give way at any second. It was another short while before Sesame spoke up again. "I think I wanna go with them." If she'd had any amount of water residing in her mouth, she would have looked the Unicorn straight in the face and spewed it across his forehead. She gave a double-take to make up for the lack of liquids. "Are you sure?" The lack of an instant response caused her to shuffle a tad as they continued trotting. "Griffonia... it isn't Equestria by any definition, Sesame. Surely it's no Itrot, but it's..." She trailed off when she noticed Sesame's very simple, very nonchalant shrug. He wasn't actually considering this, was he? Hell, even she didn't know what Griffonia was like! She'd heard stories about how less wealthy it all was, and if she learned anything from her time in Canterlot, no bits equaled whiny ponies and aggressive tones. There was no telling what a country-wide version of that could lead to. "Maybe..." She looked his way again. "Maybe I need something like this." Octavia scrunched her eyes shut tightly, wrinkles appearing around her nose as she crinkled it in pain. A dull ringing, sudden and definitely impactful, had set in her two, poor ears. Attempting to blink it away as quickly as she could before the Unicorn noticed, she shook her head and brushed her mane back to its usual state with a hoof. The ringing declined before simply disappearing. "I mean, like, you always read about ponies going off on grand adventures. Hell, the Elements back in Ponyville do it all the time, don't they?" Sesame asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. "When there aren't any deafening explosions, oddly rehearsed song-and-dance-numbers, and Bumblebears, they do tend to head off to Gods know where at the drop of the metaphorical hat." "Exactly," Sesame exclaimed, as if the mare hadn't realized what she was confirming when she had last talked, "maybe this is something I need to do. This could be a good thing. No more standing in that cramped room, listening to my asshole boss and contemplating sweet death–" "Um..." "–now it's just me, and I can do whatever I want." Octavia felt a cold shiver go up and then down her spine. She gulped. She was now heavily considering seeing what else was lying in his cigarette right now. Surely, living alongside a group of merc griffons and flintlock-carrying pirates wasn't something he was actually looking into. Maybe he was just tired. She knew what it was like to start babbling when the bags under her eyes reached another five or so pounds. Sesame scratched at his goatee, signifying what Octavia hoped to be the end of their conversation for the time being. If there was anything the Unicorn should be doing at this moment in time, it was recollecting his thoughts so he could dash them all by the time the day was over. He'd probably just hitch a ride on the train and head to nearby Fillydelphia. Maybe he could work in a sandwich shop or something considerably healthier than his last job, where he couldn't burn other people with scalding grease fryers and smoke cigarettes inside. The next few seconds went by without any further voices, save for the distant ones belonging to seacolts and harbormasters, and Octavia was able to let out a sigh. It may have been about two in the afternoon on a bright, sunny day, but the mare was already feeling dreadfully tired. Maybe this is what it was like to be out and about amongst other ponies. She wasn't a terribly big fan of it, truthfully. A whole day was really all she could take. She wished she was back home, behind a locked door, nice curtains, crafted wood, and a gliding bow. The two ponies kept up their trot back toward the Scuttlebug, one humming a nice tune and the other silently analyzing it. They took a hairpin-like left turn and saw the massive ship appear at the far end of the dock... and a few individuals beside it, if Octavia squinted her eyes and leaned forward enough. Quickening her pace a tad—and checking to make sure that Sesame noticed and joined her—she cantered across the rickety wooden boards and slowly realized that the figures belonged to... W and the others. She raised a brow. Did they get off to search for her and Sesame? Reaching within earshot, she heard the voices of griffons finishing their goodbyes for the day. "...back tomorrow, Andy," W claimed, shaking the sailor's outstretched claw. "Thanks for taking us!" Lavi beamed with a smile, adjusting her pack. "Ohhh, my pleasure boyos. I'll be seein' ye tomorrow." Andy turned to look at Valkyrie, who remained standing still as her three companions began walking toward Octavia and Sesame. "You too, lass." As giddy as a Chineigh school filly, Valkyrie nodded at Andy and joined the others. Octavia groaned as she realized what was happening. She and Sesame had just walked all the way back here, only for them to just turn right back around. Sometimes, Tartarus seemed to have more of a connection to the daily events of her life than she'd thought possible. W flashed the mare a grin as he grew closer. She mimicked the gesture and wheeled around so she could trot by his side. She heard Lavi regard Sesame, "Long piss, huh Sesame?" He laughed in response. "Like a Wonderbolt, Lavi." "Are we, by any chance, heading back to the hotel, W?" Octavia asked, looking up at the old griffon. He looked back down at her. He shook his head. Octavia felt a frown appear. "We're just gonna make a quick stop at the library. Need to look for something." Did the universe just get together one day and make a blood pact to prolong Octavia's return home however possible? She grumbled to herself and pouted. It sure seemed like it.