//------------------------------// // 4. Untouchable // Story: Exit Through Canterlot // by TheBrianJ //------------------------------// Martingale Terrace was one of the more active areas in the Canterlot market district. With sidewalk clothes sales and booths selling all kinds of organic, expensive fruits and vegetables, it was always a cornerstone of activity in the already busy area of the capital city. Today was no exception: upper class ponies rushed about, utterly ignoring each other, lost in their own little worlds, browsing the lines of elegant clothes and gourmet food. Within the crowd, one mare trotted with purpose, carefully looking back and forth at the ponies to make sure she wasn't drawing attention to herself. She eventually came to a halt when she saw what she was looking for, causing a distracted pony behind her to bump into her. "Watch where you're walking!" the stallion grumbled at her, then shoved around her and continued on his path. Octavia sighed, then backed up out of the way as the stallion shoved around her. She stared after him, shaking her head, then turned her attention back to where it was previously: a long poster hanging on a wall. Still left over from the weeks preceding the Gala, it proudly advertised that this year's Grand Galloping Gala would be "the grandest of all time," and promised to be "a night of glory, a night of elegance, a night to remember!" The banner was lined with sparkling gems and streamers, but the largest feature on it was the picture in the center: a smiling Princess Celestia, one hoof proudly raised in the air, displaying the grand front door of Canterlot Castle. Octavia's eyes narrowed as she stared into Celestia's gaze. "Grandest of all time..." she grumbled to herself, then looked behind her, scanning the area until she found a small alley, completely ignored by the ponies in the market. As she shifted her gaze from side to side to make sure nopony was paying attention to her, Octavia casually backed away from the crowds, then slipped into the alley and trotted to its farthest end, out of sight of the fast-moving ponies in the market district. Sitting back against the wall, Octavia dropped the bag she had been carrying in front of her. As she pulled the bag open and stared inside, she pulled one hoof away. She slowly looked back at the open end of the alley, suddenly very aware of the number of ponies that were at the market that day. "All these ponies… Am I really about to...?" she muttered to herself, her gaze switching rapidly between each pony that walked by the alley entrance. After a few moments, her eyes wandered behind them to the poster. It only took a few seconds for her to shake the apprehension out of her head, and she allowed a smile to curl across her face. "Yes. Yes I am." Sliding back to the bag, she pulled out the coat and put it on. She dug through the bag a bit more, pushing cans to the side until she came to the very bottom of the bag. The smile only grew as she carefully reached down and pulled out the things that Vinyl had given her earlier in the day: her disguise. --- Upon waking up hours earlier, Octavia had gone straight to her desk and brainstormed ideas for Chic Trend's big winter fashion reveal that night. Pulling out a large sketchpad she borrowed from Vinyl, she wracked her brain to think of ideas for what to create. Hours passed. As she stared at the large sheet of paper in front of her adorned with an awkward drawing of a donkey wearing a jumpsuit, something just didn’t sit right in her mind. She looked the paper over, then crumpled it up and dropped in the trash can next to her desk, now overflowing with previously rejected ideas. She pulled out a fresh piece and set it down in front of her, staring blankly at it for several moments. Her concentration was interrupted when her door suddenly burst open. "Alright, Tavi, time to wake up!" Vinyl yelled, turning to Octavia's bed. "It's nearly ten! Why the hay are you still slee—" Vinyl slammed her mouth shut as she stared at the empty bed, then looked over at Octavia, who had one eyebrow raised. Vinyl shook her head. "Wait, how long have you been up?" "Several hours." "Whoa, you haven't made a peep! What have you been doing all this time?" Octavia stared back at the blank sheet of paper in front of her. "I've been trying to create templates for Chic Trend's show tonight." "Ooooh, awesome! So, whatcha got going for it?" After an awkward pause, Octavia nodded at the floor. Vinyl followed the gesture, and saw the countless crumpled pieces of paper overflowing the garbage can. "Oof." With a sigh, Octavia looked back at the blank paper. "I've been thinking all morning, but every time I get an idea, I start questioning myself and suddenly the idea looks awful. Nothing looks right to me when I'm sitting here, Vinyl. I don't know what I want to say, I just..." Octavia trailed off as she looked over at one of the many cans of spray paint that sat on the corner of her desk. Blinking a few times, she turned back to the sketch pad, and shook her head. "I'm overthinking this, aren't I?" Vinyl gave her a sideways glance. "No no, not at all! It's fine, you're—" "I appreciate the kindness," Octavia interrupted, "but I would much prefer honesty." "'Kay. You're overthinking this so hard I can practically hear your brain," Vinyl said, sitting down on Octavia's bed. "Listen, I know this is something you want to pursue, but if you keep overthinking things you're just going to stop yourself. Remember yesterday when you said you wanted to be 'real?' Well, tell me one time when thinking about something made it immediately happen.” She paused, then her eyes tilted upwards, staring at the horn on her head. “Okay, maybe not the best example, but you know what I mean.” Octavia reached back and took the can of paint in her hoof, looking it over for a few moments. Vinyl saw her eyes shimmer for a second, and Octavia stood up, gathering a few of the cans on her desk. "You're right. I'm not going to get anything done by sitting here thinking about it." Vinyl cocked her head to the side as Octavia grabbed a bag from her closet and put the cans inside. "Wait," Vinyl said quizzically. "I thought you weren't going to head to that fashion show until tonight when it's in full swing." "I'm not," Octavia began, taking the coat out of her closet. "But that doesn't mean it's the only thing in Canterlot I have a problem with. For example," she mused, "there is that banner for the Grand Galloping Gala that's still up." "The one in the market district?" Vinyl asked, smiling. "Ooooh, awesome. That place is always super busy, too. I bet a ton of ponies are gonna see it!" Octavia paused, staring straight ahead for a few moments, then looked over at her cello. She sighed, quietly saying to herself, "I suppose there's no way around it.” She turned back to her friend. "Vinyl, about that... I could use your advice." "Lay it on me." "As much as this is something I want to do, as much as I am going to pursue this, my cello and my music are still the most important things in my life." Vinyl nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that." Octavia bit her lip awkwardly. "Well, I don't think that a lot of the concert halls in Canterlot would want to book a performer who is also going out and vandalizing walls." Rubbing her chin, Vinyl nodded again. "Yeah, no two ways about it: that's gonna be a problem." "So, do you think it might be best if I... hide my face?" Octavia looked back at her coat, tugging at one sleeve of it. "This coat hides my body and Cutie Mark well enough, and I can tie my mane and tail back, but I'd really feel more comfortable if I can keep my face hidden. Canterlot is big enough that I doubt anypony would recognize me, so I'd be able to keep my musical career intact. Does that sound silly to you, do you think it's—" Octavia was cut off when she looked back up, and found herself face to face with Vinyl. Vinyl's eyes had stars in them, and her jaw was shaking as if she was using every muscle in her body just to speak. "You... you want a secret identity." "I suppose you could call it that." Vinyl's hoof reached out and grabbed Octavia awkwardly by the shoulder. "Tavi. You have absolutely no idea how happy I am to hear you say that." Before Octavia could even react, Vinyl jumped and took off into her own room. Octavia was about to follow her when a sudden crashing from the room made her jump. She eventually followed and peeked her head around the corner into Vinyl's room, which was suddenly a mess. Vinyl was digging through her closet, throwing random articles of clothing behind her and occasionally pausing for a split-second to examine something. Octavia slowly entered the room. "Vinyl, I just need something to cover my face. Perhaps a scarf, or—" "Booooooooring!" Vinyl yelled, momentarily poking her head out of the closet. "Tavi, this spray paint deal that you are doing is entirely your thing. Yeah, I gave you some advice, but remember that you decided to do this, and it's awesome. You should be really, really proud." She turned back and dug into the closet again. "But when it comes to appearance? When it comes to looking cool? That's my department. Sorry, Tavi, but I'm taking command here." Vinyl stood up, holding a hoodie in one hoof and an eyepatch in the other, glancing between them for a few seconds before shaking her head. She tossed them aside and dove back into the closet. Octavia carefully stepped over the miscellaneous clothes that lined the floor, and poked her head over Vinyl's into the closet. "It’s, erm, nice to see you so enthusiastic about this, but I really would prefer something simple..." Vinyl poked her head back up, nodding. "Minimalist. Got it!" Octavia sat down on the bed and shifted about as Vinyl spent another minute digging through her closet, occasionally pausing to scrutinize some piece of clothing before tossing it away. Just when she started to get antsy, Octavia jumped when Vinyl let out a loud "A-Ha!" and threw two items at Octavia. "Try these!" Vinyl happily chimed. "That's a fleece face mask I wore for last year's Vanhoofer Sparkle Party, and I got that bandana when I was the headliner for the Pasturgis Motorcycle Derby. Try em' on!" Octavia pushed her tongue into the side of her cheek as she stared at the accessories. Vinyl smiled and leaned in closer, waggling her eyebrows as Octavia slowly put the face mask on. She took the bandana in her hooves and carefully wrapped it around her forehead, watching as Vinyl's eyes widened and her smile grew even more. After sitting still for a few moments, Octavia stood up and walked over to the mirror hanging on Vinyl's wall. With the mask and bandana on, only her eyes were visible on her face. She turned to the side to get a good look at her whole body, looking over the face mask and coat, and couldn't help but admire the outfit, smiling behind the mask. "Hmmm…" she pleasantly hummed, turning the other way. In the reflection in the mirror, Vinyl’s smiling face slowly shifted into one of more bemused confusion. "Wait… You actually like that look? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it, but I was totally expecting you to say no." Octavia untied the bandana and took the mask off, walking back towards her room. "It's… It will do just fine, Vinyl." She re-entered her room, placing the items into the bag containing the spray paint. Octavia pulled out a brush and began to un-style the end of her tail as Vinyl followed her into the room, cocking her head to one side. "Whoa, are you going out right now? As in, right now right now?" "I don't see why not," Octavia said, stuffing the coat onto the top of the bag. Octavia slung the bag over her shoulder, and started to march away. She got to the front door and raised a hoof to open it, but halfway to grasping it, she froze. As Vinyl walked up to her, she saw her friend's hoof trembling, slowly moving away from the doorknob. Vinyl patted Octavia on the back, smiling. "Lemme give you a bit of advice here. Sometimes, it's way, way more rewarding to stop thinking and just do," Vinyl said. "More specifically, this is totally one of those times." Octavia looked over at Vinyl, and her apprehensive expression turned into a sly smile. She nodded her head and reached out, finally opening up the front door and stepping outside. --- Sitting back against the alley wall, Octavia put the face mask on over her muzzle. She carefully tied her hair back into a tight ponytail, then picked up the bandana from the bag. As she slipped it over the top of her head, she caught a glance of herself in a dirty pane of glass leaning against the other side of the alley. Pausing, she stared at herself, taking in her outfit: with the mask, bandana, and coat covering her, Octavia could barely even recognize herself. She wasn't one to dress up very often for performances; the Gala had been by far the biggest stage of her performing career, and even for that she merely wore her favorite bow tie. She had never understood the obsession with clothing that so many ponies in Canterlot pursued. Vinyl had always been a little more direct with her criticisms, stating that fancy clothing was "the height of phoniness." To a degree, Octavia had agreed with her, although she had never seen the idea of phoniness with clothing. But as she turned to the side to continue to look over her disguise, a smile had once again found its way onto her face. She had never seen anypony dressed like this anywhere in Equestria, let alone a high-class city like Canterlot. Yet there was something about it that she found appealing. It was different; it was real; it was unique; and although she could hardly call herself an expert on the subject, there was something about it that just felt... cool. After zipping the bag up again, Octavia slung it over her back and turned around towards the entrance of the alley, where busy ponies continued to pass by. She took a few steps forward, and for a split second she froze, her hoof trembling in the air. Her mind raced for a few moments before she reached into the bag and wrapped it around a can, immediately clearing her mind and forcing the trembles to stop. With a quick crack of her neck and a confident breath, Octavia continued her path, stepping out of the alley. Out of the corner of her eye, she was vaguely aware of the eyes that were immediately on her. But her focus was planted firmly on the banner across the way, and she walked through crowd of ponies and up to it. She spent several seconds looking back and forth over the banner, then dropped the bag down next to her with a clattering thud. "I suppose there's no need to wait any longer," she mumbled to herself, then crouched down and rummaged through the bag. She shoved a few of the cans aside before her eyes twinkled and she pulled out a full can of green paint. Shaking it thoroughly, Octavia could barely contain her smile as she heard the rattling coming from within, then turned back to the banner. As she looked it over, the rest of the world seemed to disappear in the back of her mind. With slight nod of her head, she popped the cap off and aimed it at Celestia's image, pressing down on the nozzle. As green paint began to cover Celestia's body, she let out a euphoric sigh; it just felt right. Her worries completely melted away, replaced by complete focus on her art. She calmly moved the can around the banner, covering Celestia's entire body with green until the Princess was almost completely unrecognizable. Just looking at the image made Octavia laugh, and she took a step back, just admiring it for a few moments. "Still needs more," she said under her breath, then turned and crouched down next to the bag, again looking through it. She found a can of red paint and pulled it out, but as she did she caught something out of the corner of her eye, and nearly dropped the can as she jumped back a bit in surprise. A massive crowd of ponies had gathered in a semi-circle around her, all staring in surprise. Much of the activity in the market had seemingly ceased, instead replaced by focus entirely on her. A number of ponies were murmuring to each other, but many were just standing still, watching her every move. Octavia felt herself shivering, which was only exacerbated when the crowd parted, and two Royal Guards stepped forward, aiming their narrowed eyes at her. She stood straight up, trying her best to hide the nervous shaking of her hooves as the guards looked at the banner, then back at her. "I assume you are the pony who defaced the statue of Princess Celestia, and painted the pictures of Blueblood?" the first guard pressed. Octavia slowly nodded her head. The other guard stepped forward. "You go by the name Flanksy, correct?" Several of the assembled ponies chuckled as Octavia's eyes narrowed upon hearing the name. She grunted in frustration, then nodded her head again. The guards nodded back, and there was a long silence. Octavia shifted uncomfortably on her hooves as the guards glared back and forth between her and the banner. Finally, one of the guard's determined glares softened, and he leaned in towards the other one. "Erm... What do we do now, Seraphim?" Seraphim blinked, then turned to the other guard. "What do you mean?" "Well, no laws are being broken here. Same with the statue and the Blueblood pictures. I don't believe it's within our jurisdiction to do anything to her..." "No, Chambers! She’s also insulting Her Majesty Celestia!" As the guards went back and forth, Octavia struggled to maintain her upright posture. She could feel herself sweating, and she hadn't been able to take her eyes off the guards. Once she finally tore her gaze away and turned it back to the world around her, she realized that she had involuntarily taken several steps back, standing in a slightly crouched position in front of the poster, almost as if she was protecting it. "But it’s not like she’s physically hurting anypony," Chambers persisted. "We can't really do anything to her either way..." "Maybe not to her specifically, but there has to be something we can do about this." The more that they talked, the more Octavia could feel her forehooves pressing into the ground. She looked around at the assembled crowd of ponies, and although they were split in their reactions, the only faces she could focus on were the ones who's eyes were narrowed and who were muttering to each other in frustration. Octavia's mind went back to the first discovery of the statue of Celestia, when Blueblood had gone on a rant about it. Octavia hadn't wanted to expose herself then, but with her identity covered up now, she was feeling completely different. Even with seemingly hundreds of eyes on her, she felt strong. Confident. Almost invincible. She huffed in frustration as she stared at the two guards, still talking amongst each other. Finally, the older guard shook his head. "Well," Seraphim began, "at the very least, we can take the banner down." Chambers nodded as Octavia's eyes widened in shock. The two guards turned back and began to step towards the poster... Without even thinking about it, Octavia leapt in front of them. As if her body wasn't listening to the cries of her brain, Octavia leaned forward, staring down the two guards. Seraphim and Chambers stopped in their tracks, both surprised at the sudden resistance. In the back of her mind, Octavia was panicking, desperately trying to convince herself to step aside. But in the forefront of her mind, a single sentence formed, far louder than anything else. I'm not going to let them destroy my art. As more murmuring broke out in the crowd, Seraphim took a step to the side. Octavia followed him and planted her hooves in the ground, glaring at him as he paused again. She straightened her body out and stared back and forth at Seraphim and Chambers, then shook her head very slowly. The two guards took a step back as the crowd went quiet, and for a few moments, a tense silence filled the market atmosphere. Finally, Chambers sighed and tapped Seraphim's shoulder, and the guards faced away from Octavia, quietly talking. Octavia took a long breath, looking back at the banner. She smiled at the green figure that had replaced Celestia, but the smile disappeared the more she thought about the very idea of it being taken down. Her memories shot back to the Gala, when in the middle of Beethooven's Fifth, the ballroom had descended into chaos. When she could do nothing but hide behind the stage as stampeding animals, crashing statues, and screaming ponies had silenced her music. When Allegro Sonata had approached her and explained that the musical requirements were filled up for the rest of the Gala, so she could put her cello away. As the image disappeared, words swirled through her head. My music was silenced at the Gala, but I'm not going to let that happen here. After another deep breath, she turned back to the guards, who had ended their discussion and were again looking over the banner. Seraphim shook his head, then turned to Octavia. "You're not going to back down without a fight, are you, Miss Flanksy?" Octavia ignored her desire to scream about being called that name, instead just slowly nodding her head. The guards looked at each other for a few seconds, then Seraphim turned back to her. "Look, just... just don't cause a riot or anything." Seraphim turned and walked away, leaving the other guard. Chambers turned to her and nodded at her, but she could detect a slight hint of a smile on his previously stoic face. As Chambers followed him, all eyes in the crowd returned to Octavia, whose gaze followed the two guards until they were well out of sight. A part of her wanted to pause, to savor the feeling that was rushing through her body. But once she turned back to the banner, she threw it out of her mind, instead stretching her neck out and walking back to her bag, grabbing a small can of red paint. The euphoria enveloped her again as she paced back and forth in front of it and thinking before raising up her left hoof and spraying it red. She reached up and scratched her hoof across the banner, drawing large red teeth and horns on the green image of Celestia, which drew a few more gasps from the crowd. One pony had enough. "You can't do that to Celestia!" he yelled. "She's our Princess: you can't just treat her like that!" Octavia spun around, shooting the pony an angry glare. He glared right back, but then a third voice came from the other side of the crowd. "So what? It's her opinion, like Fancy Pants said!" As the two ponies walked up to each other and argued, Octavia just rolled her eyes and turned back. She started to put away the spray paint cans, but stopped when she looked back at the banner, this time looking over the phrase proudly displayed in massive letters along the bottom of it. "Hmmph," she grunted, pulling the red can out again and spraying over the three key words in the sentence. She tossed the can into the bag, then pulled out a black one. After a glance back at the crowd, she started to rewrite the sentence. With each word she wrote, the ponies in the crowd gasped louder and talked, some of them even yelling. Octavia could barely hear them though, as she was so focused on her work that the rest of the world was a blur. When she finally finished and backed up, she laughed to herself again, reading the sentence that was making so many ponies behind her downright horrified. "A night of ignorance, a night of entitlement, a night of superficiality." Octavia turned around to leave, but paused as she felt prying eyes on her. Turning back to look at the banner, she rolled her tongue between her teeth a bit, thinking that there was something missing. Something that would tell everypony who saw it exactly who was responsible: something that would tell them that it was hers. She reached down into her bag and pulled out a black can of paint. “I suppose there’s no way to get out of that name,” she quietly mused to herself as she raised her hoof to the corner of the banner, then sprayed a large ‘F.’ She took a few steps back and stared at the signature, and all she could do was smile; as much as she disliked the name, there was something about seeing the letter affixed to the banner that was wonderful to her. She had never been able to attach her name to any songs before, but this was different. This was hers. Octavia slipped the can back into her bag and pushed through the crowd, who had all walked around her to examine the banner more closely. She had gotten to the back of the crowd when she came to a halt and looked over her shoulder to survey the scene. The market was still busy, but now much of the activity was centered around the banner. The two ponies who had started arguing were now calmly discussing something in front of the crowd, but she couldn't quite make out their exact words. At that moment, however, she really didn't care what they were saying. She knew that some ponies were angry, and some ponies were happy. But all that mattered to her was that everypony was talking. After a few minutes of walking, Octavia made sure she was out of sight before slipping into another alley and taking off her outfit. Just as she put them in the bag, time seemed to freeze for a moment as her eyes met the mask and bandana sitting on top of the coat. She leaned her head back against the alley wall, sliding down slightly as she sighed contentedly. "I just did that," she quietly said, staring up at the sky and smiling. "And they didn’t touch me." Octavia closed up her bag and exited the other side of the alley. Just as she was walking away, a mare rushed past her and up to two others. "Stunning Style! Red Dress! Come on, we have to get to Martingale Terrace!" One of the ponies cocked her head to the side. "Peccavi, calm yourself. We're discussing my latest case right now. Can’t it wait a few minutes?" "No, it can't! Flanksy just showed up in the market and went after the Gala banner!" The third pony gasped. "She did?! Where, where?" "Here, follow me!" The three mares took off towards Martingale Terrace, Octavia staring after them. Part of her wanted to follow them, to see their reaction to her work. She’d stand far away on the sidelines of action and just observe their reactions. But she shook the thought out of her head and calmly turned around, trotting away with a smile on her face. She couldn't bother to wait around; she had preparations to do. After all, Chic Trend's show was only a few hours away.  ---------- Exit Through Canterlot End of Chapter 4: Untouchable Special Thanks: Worstshel Layton, Luke Razton, Granny Wardenton, and Don Propslo