Whether from rooftop dispensing an abundance of it or the midnight sky, flakes of snow cascaded in little droves to meet against the cobblestone roads and sidewalks spanning through Canterlot. The roads, freshly plowed moments ago by passing workers on their final rounds for the night, now looked almost diamond studded by the shimmering flakes of fresh snow fall. On the other hand, the sidewalks that lined the road were powdered by the aftermath of passing plowers, leaving them thick and puffy; like mounds of sugar in the shop of a baker. The only exception to the sidewalks were the benches and streetlights. Rings around the base of the lights remained slightly dug out as light whittled away the piles of snow; while the benches kept snow fall from touching the small amount of sidewalk under their curved shape. In all, Canterlot was at peace in the blissful chill of winter.
Few disturbances were made against the snow lining the sidewalk; so few would exit their homes so late into the night. But, children scampered though the mounds and couples walked hand-in-hand down the picturesque city streets. As well to those numbers was a lone Octavia garbed in a thick, brown overcoat and sitting with a shiver against a bench under one of the streetlights, her head hung low with puffs of her own breath whisking against her face. It took her some time, but she brought herself to Canterlot post-haste once she left Vinyl and the apartment. If there existed anywhere that could bring her a shred of solace, it was the majesty of Canterlot. In all the world, Canterlot always felt the most 'at home' sort of place to her... On exception to one other place.
As she sat in the cold on that bench, her mind rattled with every thought and conflicting feeling she had been forced to endure in these short few hours. Her fingers curled against her forehead and ran sharp traces through her now knotted hair. Groans born from frustration departed from her clenched teeth as she pushed the bases of her palms against her eyes; not feeling the need to cry, but just trying to rub away and annoyance she could from her body. But, it aided nothing... And she already knew it wouldn't. She had just wanted to find some other solution...
When she put her hands back against her knees covered in the drape of the coat, she sent her eyes to scan across the snow fallen street. Canterlot's beauty could always bring some degree of joy to her, even in this dreary point she had fallen to. For a moment, her heart lifted for the first time that night and felt a thread of comfort sitting alone on that bench. In the moment after, that feeling of uplift was switched to mild interest and thought when she noticed a collective of children bracing through the mounds of snow covering the sidewalks with high, bounding steps. In each of their tiny arms were tied bundles of papers that they all took great care to not allow the snow to touch even an inch of from the bottom. It was a cute sight; it was a heart warming sight; it was a curious sight.
Two years, correct? I have seen that same collection of children running that paper route three times a week for the past two years now. From Canterlot to home, I have seen these children walking the same path at the same time on each of those nights to deliver those newspapers. Dedication, though I admire it, must be pulled to question in this scenario. Newspaper delivery boys and girls are the staple to that sort of business structure. However, they wrote the paper themselves, they are not paid, and -to my knowledge- a handful, if that, are the only ones who read it while the others simply throw it out or use it for the common displace for newspaper leavings. Why even trouble yourself to such a degree for no gain?
Octavia watched as the four children continued down the sidewalk until they came to pass by Octavia's bench. She had to admit, the four children wrapped in heavy winter clothes and waddling with bundles of papers did seem rather adorable. But, her curious nature took to the head of her and she gestured to the boy of the four as they came closer. When the children saw, they formed a quick huddle and make for quick whispers amongst themselves before they sent the boy out while the three remaining took for houses across the street. When the boy neared, he pulled one of the newspapers from his bundle with a crinkle and outstretched it to Octavia, a bright cherub of a smile across his face as he did so. "Night to ya', Ms. Octavia," he tried to keep quiet, but his cockney high-spirited tone still jolted a little echo through the silent street.
For a moment, Octavia was hesitant to take the paper, but submitted to taking it with the given allure she was being shown from the boy's smile. "Thank you..." she rolled the paper up and tucked it into her coat; she would throw it away when the boy was further way. "Now... Pip, was it? I have a question to pose you if you are willing to humor my query."
At first, Pip blinked a puzzled look at the older woman. Though, he ultimately chose to simply nod and let Octavia say what she was wanting to. "I have noticed that you and your friends always deliver these non-profit newspapers that you make on your own time and funding. Noble as it is to practice something you take pleasure in doing, I find it a bit questionable to the degrees and lengths you will do it. Within your home town is understandable; making enough for only your families makes sense; but you travel all the way to Canterlot; you make a surplus of papers. Why?"
For just a minute, Pip seemed to consider what he was hearing. Flakes of snow drifted down between the two in an air of silence. The silence, however, was broken when Octavia watched Pip step through the small pile of snow between them and shuffle himself to sit next to her on the bench. "Well, Ms. Octavia... We don't do it for the fun of it or 'cause we want somethin' ta' do. Doing it 'cause maybe someone'll get a little laugh or somethin' out of one of the pages, or could learn somethin' new. Don't know what. But if one person gets somethin' out of it, that's worth somethin'," Pip kicked his boots across the small powder pile of sand that gather a slope under the bench as he spoke.
Octavia looked from Pip to her coat, tugging it slightly agape to look at the rolled up paper she was keeping. A huffing chuckle came from her and she shook her head, letting the white puffs take to the air like fresh smoke. "Learn something you say? Maybe by chance there could be a dating column in it that could help me find my answer..." though she spoke the words bitterly to her own ears, Pip still looked up at her with a captured interest.
"Datin' column? Why would ya' need one of those? Ain't'cha with that Vinyl lady?"
"With her... Yes... I am, or perhaps was," Octavia sighed and slipped defeated against her spot on the cold bench, "We both have come to an impasse in our relationship..." when her eyes slipped a look to Pip's confused expression, she felt she would have to treat this as if speaking to Vinyl, "We had a fight. And, this fight ended with us at a point in our relationship where we can't go further without something breaking."
"Like 'ow?" Pip urged her to go on, giving an eye over to the rest of his group to make sure they were still around.
"She... She gave me a choice that I could not make in all good sense..." Octavia muttered, her bitterness growing to dig against her wounds.
"Did she tell ya' to murder some bloke or she'd throw ya' out a window?" Pip asked flatly.
"No..."
"Did she 'old your parents 'ostage until ya' took over Canterlot?"
"No..."
"Then what did she ask ya'?"
For a second, just a second, Octavia considered if her choice was as bad or worse than the ones this boy presented. "She... asked me to marry her."
A silence fell between the two, leaving Octavia to look down at herself with narrowed, shamed eyes as she reflected upon the-- "Aaaaand told ya' to say yes or she'd blow up your mum?"
"What? No," Octavia shot the young boy a harsh look of disbelief, "She only asked me to marry her and left it at that."
"What's the problem then?"
"It's... Complicated... You see, we're both females. I do not know your parents, but I assume the are a man and woman. The same can be assumed of your friends as well. Married couples are generally male and female; it's the status commonly seen. Same gender couples are generally frowned upon... I admit it is more liberal and tolerated in these parts... But that does not make it fully accepted. To date one of your own gender is risque as it is and has impeded many endeavors I have tried for. However, if I were to marry one in my same gender... My reputation and rank would quickly die out and I would become a no-name musician against the street curb. I love my reputation and renown as a musician of high-class; I do not ever want to lose that."
As Octavia kept speaking, she bit her tongue as she realized what she was saying. This sort of talk was above most minds, and she was pouring it our over some child she pulled aside for a remedial curiosity. Her words came to a still and she looked back to her lap, seeing the flakes of snow touch and disappear against the brown of the coat. Sinking into her own mind, she nearly missed the words Pip had spoke after her small silence. "Do you wanna' lose Vinyl?"
The question was ridiculous. "Of course I do not want to lose her. She is my world and greater half." Octavia did not mean to speak in anger at the boy, but her tone betrayed that thought.
However, to her surprise, Pip did not look back at her with any worry or fear. Instead, he looked almost as contemplating as she had been moments ago. "Two 'alfs make a 'ole. That right?"
"Yes, of course..." Octavia had room for simple, thoughtless questions... A tact she gained from living with Vinyl.
"So... If that's true... What's the other 'alf?"
"Pardon?" Octavia raised a brow to the boy, one white flake of snow clinging to her black 'lashes.
"You said Vinyl's your better 'alf. What's the other 'alf if Vinyl's one 'alf."
Children today had little to no understanding of such metaphors it would seem. "The other half would be me. I am one half, Vinyl is another. The idea itself is not too far complex."
"If you're one 'alf and she's the other... I don't see 'ow being a musician makes you any more 'ole."
Pip dropped off from the bench and reclaimed his stock of newspapers from the bench as well, taking off to regain his partners further down the street. Octavia did not voice any complaint, nor a farewell... She just remained there in the most stunned manner she had been in perhaps all her life. Beyond any belief of her own, she had been deconstructed, unmade, and out-reasoned by a child... And she found herself completely lost for the second time that night. In a sense, he was completely right in his analysis. Yet...
Octavia put her palms back against her eyes and flicks her fingers through her scalp, groaning harsh breathes into the cold air. To pick between the two... It was a hard choice, but it had crossed her mind. She had made plans for the case of them being married some time ago... But she had also wished it to never come to that. But why? For fame? Fortune? Honor? Thinking now... What was it for? The loss of so much... Was it all worth this much thought in the end?
In the midst of her thought, Octavia opened her coat and reached in to grasp the paper she held within. As she reached, her fingers curled to a stop and she bit into her warm bottom lip which stood at contrast to the cold world around her. "A child has pointed out a matter most blatant to me that I have over looked... My girlfriend has put me into a corner that I dread to stay in... And the longer I wait, I find myself more and more lost..." her words felt dry and cruel as she spoke them, no one around anymore to hear it except her, "If there exists any time I would ask for some sort of otherworldly power to show me what I have to do, I would accept it now..."
She was answer... by the soft drops of falling snow and passing wind brushing the collected mounds. Nothing more to follow through the winter night in Canterlot. She heaved a snide huff and put her hand to meet the paper. "As I had assumed..."
When she gripped the paper, she found it a bit strange that it felt thinner than when she put it in. Pulling her hand out, she still felt the rolled up newspaper pressed against her chest and saw that between her fingers was a scrap of wrinkled up paper. By the bends, folds, and rips in it, it seemed as if the paper had been there for as long as the jacket was had. On the backside of it, worn writing was made out to Octavia's strained eyes. She brought it up and put it against the street light, using her free hand to stop the wind from blowing against it so she could read it.
"Alright. Gotta cheat again. A little bit after I gave you that last note, I remembered to hate the nickname 'Tavi'. So, I'll give this one last letter to make it the name you like being called. 'Tavia'. But honestly, whatever name you go by is great. You could be named 'Pickle-Dickle' and you'd still be the most amazing person in the world galaxy solar system galaxy universe. You probably know something bigger than universe, but go ahead and keep it. I prefer world anyway. Your world. Because someday, it'll be our world. We might be shit poor and living off beans when we finally tie the knot. But don't you worry. I may have to stuff you on ramen for a few years, but I'll make sure every year after we get married will be filled with every cent I saved from every job I did. Sorry about that too. I lied about my money. I wanted to surprise you when we put our money together and I had more than just a penny to my name. My name, your name; I don't care, I just want our name."
"By the way... I hope you find this note soon. Otherwise the whole note romance of this will be worth jack!"
Octavia looked over the paper once again... Then another time over. Perhaps even ten times before she covered it up with her trembling hand and placed it back into the pocket within the coat. For once, when her breath drew out from her body in that night, the puffs of air looked and felt more like gentle clouds wanting to return to the heavens above. As too did her tone change; from her bitterness came a new, gentleness that felt heavy with the release of the greatest of burdens. "Thank you..."