She'd bought that oven just a few, short, unentertaining days after she and her roommate had first stepped hoof inside their new house's practically empty interior, when money had been low and better spent on disgustingly gorgeous fast food and spirits were so incredibly high they might as well have been their own little Pegasi with bountiful wings and the whole package. Octavia's roommate had opted on staying home to unpack her various taped-up boxes—and by unpack Octavia inwardly knew it simply meant fling them on the ground like a kind of magic-infused tornado—so it was up to the Earth Pony, once again, to roll her eyes, sigh into the popcorn-painted ceiling, and trot over to the local appliance store to go buy some kitchenware. Octavia may not have been as good a cook as her grandmother, or really anypony for that real matter, but she held the ever so slightest belief that she would fare infinitely better than her mute roommate.
Trotting along the morning dew-stained grass with her chin held high and her posture perfectly straightened, Octavia had walked across the familiar town no real problem. Entering the establishment of her choice—and frowning deeply at the lack of shopping carts she certainly would have loved to make use of—Octavia had been shot at with the horrendous smell of woodwork and the hint of quietly burning plastic. Her main objective was to simply waltz across the store, not ask for any form of help, and find a desirable oven as fast and as soon as was Earthly possible. This massive crusade of hers had been foiled and utterly obliterated in the span of a single minute as some stallion, clad in a straight blue vest she'd have been so incredibly ready to tear off and strangle him with, had cantered over to her position to ask if she needed any assistance. She, of course, knew how rude it was to blow off somepony if they were literally staring you in your face, so she had simply said no and continued on her way. The stallion was... adamant, to say the least, and was swift to tell her that she could call for help by pushing one of the buttons located on each aisle.
She had shaken her head right then and there, but when she found one of those Godsdamned buttons, she had spent a lot more than a healthy amount of time just studying it and lightly tapping it to test how far she could push it in before some pony would come galloping over at the speed of sound. Octavia knew how to not take things too far, and quickly regained her apparently limited composure to walk further into the store. She was a tad grateful that she was in an appliance shop and not some kind of grocery store, citing the ponies approvingly listening to eyeglassed tech nerds as much better alternatives to the silent gawkers and sh-sound sharpening gossipers. Every pace she stepped, not a single pony turned to look at her and raise a brow at her obviously displaced presence in such a town as Ponyville, and that was something that Octavia had found comfort in until she had finally found the kitchen appliances section, neglectfully nestled in the southeast corner of the store so that nopony but troubled teenage chain-smokers could make use of it. Unfortunately for her, such isolation meant that she wouldn't have any real help getting the shining oven/stove combos lining the topmost shelf directly underneath the hanging ceiling lights.
Now, Octavia wasn't stupid. Far from it, in fact. She wasn't going to pull some ridiculously wacky, cartoony scheme to pile things up one over the other to try to pillar herself up to the top.
But she did it anyway.
When she had walked out of the store after paying for it—where flurries of ugly looks suddenly shot her way at the acknowledgment of her chosen item—her prior brushed mane was now fussed up and bedraggled, and her entire body sported a few new bruises. The devilish smirk she had given the vested stallion at the front could have made even Discord zap a pair of pants next to him, put them on one freakish leg at a time, and deafeningly sully them right on the spot. It had been relatively easy to drag the new, apparently envious oven back across town to her and her roommate's home, with the scalding sun and the now staring ponies being her only real complaint. She shouldn't have been surprised in the slightest—and she most certainly hadn't—since she'd carried both her double bass and her music stand countless times in the past with no sign of toiling present on her gray brow.
Octavia had been quick to chuckle at the gaping jaw greeting her once she had returned home, and even quicker to set the whole appliance up in her designated kitchen and test it out almost immediately. As the shadowed inside of her newest loved one lit up brightly from the inside, Octavia's purple eyes had reflected something so incredible, so promising, that she was almost moved to hysterics. Gone with the days of greasy burgers and salty fries, gone with the meals of shame and ridicule, gone with the tub and the pail and the tears!
It had taken little less than a week for Octavia and her roommate to experience problems with it. For starters, the leftmost knob that controlled the adjustable heat of the closest pad port side was a bit faulty at times, to say the least. Many times those few days, Octavia had found herself grumbling very childish things under her breath as she switched the stove on and off to see if she could make a difference somehow, subtle or not. The knob always stuck a little bit, as well, but she and her roommate had simply decided not to use it until they could repair it somehow. Her morning eggs now had to be cooked on the right side, but it was a better fact to face than the stove simply not working.
As for the oven, she was very much content to just say that her first pizza with it wasn't anything very edible, and then satisfyingly leave it at that. The oven was her worst enemy. The stove at the very least had four different areas to use for cooking. The oven had one. And if that one somehow got a single slop of cheese on it, the whole entire thing stopped working like some teenage chain-smoker on his first job working the drive-thru. The middle rack—which she'd use for baking and other such delicacies—was very loose now that she thought about it. She'd had her fair share of slightly inclined cookie dough where the baking pan had tipped just one degree to the side.
Come to think of it, the whole appliance was a bit faulty in itself. Sometimes, the heat would just... turn off at a moment's notice, when its owners were beyond hungry and needed some kind of fuel to continue their artistic works out of sight and out of mind of the town completely surrounding their beings. The oven door was a bit sticky, too. She'd had to force it open with a bit of an aggressive shove many a time. Octavia never really lost her temper, however. She was well-maintained, classy, and so reserved she might as well have been a table at a five-star restaurant. She knew how to control herself, even when her lovely oven was pooping out on its admittedly starving compatriot. She'd always double-check to make sure that it was off, so that nothing caught on fire.
She was always wary of that.
Octavia sniffed at the air, the telltale aroma she'd always dreaded wafting in and settling like pilgrim ponies with their funny hats. Though she lightly cringed for a select few seconds of her life, she quickly swiped at her nose with a hoof and lifted her chin, a clearing of her throat sputtering out not too shortly afterward. This purging caused her to find her throat devastatingly dry, which she intended to immediately change until another smell shot its way toward her. She turned to her left, brow to the sky, and bit her lip at Sesame's upward stare toward what had once been his not-currently-burning house. Nestled in his lips was a new cigarette, its white smoke spiraling into the blue sky to mix with its heavy, dark gray cousins. He hummed a low grumble, blinking and staring as if it wasn't his apartment that was in a present blaze. He may have been a bit more relaxed due to the yellow-suited griffons currently spraying his windows with water, but Octavia had to acknowledge that he had to have harbored at least some form of resentment toward her.
There was no time for lip-biting or looking away. Coughing into a hoof, she spoke softly, "I'm sorry I burnt your apartment down, Sesame–"
"Looks like the only resident here's fire now." He smacked his lips, his teeth taking its one-second turn to clench his cigarette before being relieved once more. "He'll prob'ly enjoy it a lot more than I did."
Octavia blinked at him silently. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, licked her lips, and tried again. "Are you all right?"
Sesame turned and shrugged, now looking at her with his dijon mustard yellow eyes and a small smile on his face. "Never better, actually!" He swiveled about and raised his right foreleg, then shook it limply. "I've... always wanted to paint those walls a charred black anyhow."
Sarcasm. Legitimate sarcasm in the face of financial trouble and possible homelessness. Octavia shook her head and spoke her piece once more. "I'm sorry, Sesame. Truly, I am."
The Unicorn chuckled now. Looking to his left and smiling down at her, he replied, "No, I'm serious though, I really didn't like it there." Pressing his frown into his cheeks and bunching them up, he added almost longingly, "Landlord wouldn't let me keep a dog..." The fire, fortunately confined to Sesame's apartment due to its tortoise-like slow burn, snapped and popped in front of them. "...what kinda bullcrap is that, huh?"
Octavia giggled, despite the circumstances. "Most certainly a cat person."
Sesame snorted, elbowing the mare in her right side. "No kidding! Guy's got, like fifteen of them! That's a mare's thing, not some big burly minotaur's thing!" His eyes went wide, and he sucked in his bottom lip as he gave Octavia a cautious glimpse. He waved a hoof. "No offense, I mean."
"None taken, Sesame," Octavia replied, slightly surprised somepony had actually taken her feelings into account, "I personally love dogs as well."
He raised a brow, the cigarette in his mouth twirling round and round. "Corgis?"
She lifted her chin, a look of amusement framing her features. "Labradors."
"Pegged you for a poodle pony," Sesame admitted, shrugging to himself, "seems to fit you Canterlot guys."
It was her turn to purse her lips and push them to her left side, a glare now narrowing her eyes. "And what is that supposed to imply–"
She stopped, something small and noticeably blunt prodding at her right hindleg. A confused look on her face, she spun about expecting to find some kind of woodpecker continuing its species' combined hatred of her—long story—but was surprised to see a small, really cute, young griffon riding a befittingly tiny skateboard, and wearing a helmet lined with little green dinosaur spikes that was way too big for his feathered head. His green eyes, filled with glee, brightened at her noticing of him, and he leaned forward and balled his claws in front of his face.
"Hi!"
Octavia felt an uncontrollable grin cross her lips. Raising a foreleg up, she bent the end of it like some kind of sock puppet mouth and replied back happily, "Hello there!"
The griffon smiled. "Is that place on fire?"
Octavia blinked. "Yes...! It is!" She awkwardly stood there for a brief few seconds, then threw out a hoof and pointed it at the currently ablaze apartment complex. A lump crawled its way up her throat and decided to just sit there.
The... hatchling(?) shook both his claws, shouting, "That's so awesome!" He turned to the building and added, "Burn, baby, burn!" Octavia's eyes grew wide. This was getting a little weird. He looked back at Octavia and hummed for a second, then suddenly oh'd and excitedly rattled his skateboard. "Hey, you wanna come to the park and meet my friends with me? They've never seen a mare before!"
Octavia's smile wobbled about in amusement. She shook a hoof. "I'm sorry, I have someplace to be. I think, um–" she craned her neck and found Sesame still looking at her with a look of normality. In a bit more hushed tone, she asked "–Sesame, you wanna go?"
Sesame magicked his cigarette and levitated it next to his head as he trotted forward and leaned over. "No thanks, Gorty. Say hi to them for me, though."
"I will, don't worry!" Gorty exclaimed, waving them both goodbye as he began to skate away. Octavia, a bit curious to see which side of the otherwise horrendous town harbored the local park, watched as the griffon went. Her eyes, following him, suddenly darted toward the four other, much larger griffons a few feet away currently having a chat with the pair of blue-clothed police officers who'd look more in line at the beaches of Baltimare than the urban environment of Tall Tale, if their dark aviators and short sleeves were any indication. They'd arrived a few minutes after Octavia, Sesame and W's group had escaped the apartment, and, if her noticing of the denim jeaned minotaur lying on the floor with handcuffs in tandem with Boxer next to him would prove to be any help, were here to take the two to the local jail for—if the justice system here was somehow untouched—a month or so.
Gorty, kicking along the road at the pace of an interested passerby, suddenly bumped into Valkyrie. Octavia's eyes widened. Valkyrie slowly turned around, a frown on her beak and a glare on her brow. Octavia could hear Gorty's gasp of recognition from her position about ten feet away. The pavement beneath her hooves felt a lot more sharp and rocky than she had previously noticed.
"You're a griffon too?! That's so cool!"
Valkyrie stared.
"Hey, you wanna come with me to see my friends?"
"No."
Gorty blinked. Octavia could see him shuffling along the road nervously.
"Have fun gaining abnormal leg muscle though, loser."
If she'd had fists, she would have balled them up and clenched them as tightly as soaking paper towels at Gorty's little sniffles. Bowing his head, he halfheartedly kicked a leg forward, propelling his skateboard a bare inch away from its prior position. Octavia found herself breathing heavily, her head lowered and her teeth bared. Clips and clops of hooves stomped over to her side. Sesame, his cigarette back in his mouth, spoke up.
"Thought she was just angry b'cause she didn't have food in her." He took a drag. "She always like this?"
Octavia shook her head, not even paying attention to the Unicorn trying to initiate conversation.
She spat, her lower lip doing most of the movement as she growled, "Bloody asshole."
She didn't even care that she had just cursed in broad daylight. She inwardly hoped that Sesame had either not noticed, or didn't fully care. Were this any other occasion, she certainly would have thrown a hoof over her mouth and prayed to every single God that had ever, was, and would ever live that nopony had heard her. Paparazzi, as silly and foalish as it may have been for them to peruse the musical department, were everywhere, she swore. Behind the windows at the restaurant, at her front door, inside her potted plant—though that was mostly just that... damned pink party pony that had ruined the Gala a year or so back—it was horrible.
"Gods, I'd hope not," Sesame said from next to her, "can't imagine how'd she act then." Oh, Octavia could imagine just how she'd act then. "Probably... put it into a bucket and, like–"
Octavia incessantly waved both her hooves in an instant, shaking her head with enough vigor to rival that really buff Pegasus back in town. "Going to stop you right there, Sesame. That image is a bit too... risqué for my head." She pressed her sarcastic smile into her cheeks and waggled her eyebrows at the Unicorn's obviously amused expression. He chuckled a short chuckle, then let out a prolonged sigh like he'd just seen his long lost lover.
"Never thought I'd live to see Boxer and Bully taken away." He smacked his lips, turning his head to look back at Octavia. "Or, y'know, at least conscious enough to recognize it through a pair of black eyes and bleeding gums. Guess I've got you and those griffons to thank for that."
Octavia turned to her left just in time to see an orange hoof facing her way, its hovering course oddly stayed.
She looked up at its owner with her eyes narrowed and her head slightly turned back to the right.
Sesame blinked.
"Hoof bump."
"What in the hell is a hoof bump?"
She and her friends had had... hoof fives, hoof shakes, hoof down-low-too-slow-you-prune. The adept gears in her head spun and turned and twisted for any recollection of hoof bumps. None came up, and so she stared at Sesame with the inner feeling of a nervous puppy about ready to piddle. She, of course, wouldn't have. That would be really, really gross.
The end of her left foreleg was suddenly enveloped in a magical aura, and Octavia watched as her hoof lifted up at a bit of an L-shaped angle, flew forward, and hit Sesame's outstretched hoof with a resounding clap. As the Unicorn released his hold on the mare's hoof—which clopped to the pavement absent-mindedly like a phantom limb—he shot air out his nose and mouthed 'wow' before finally having the gall of saying it.
"Wow. You really are from Canterlot, then."
Though she drew a glare and showed it to Sesame, her brain... slightly approved of her action. She'd actually kind of enjoyed that!
"Bah!" Valkyrie's voice called out from deafeningly close to their position. Octavia turned, finding the griffon in question standing next to she and Sesame. W, T, and Lavi still stood a few feet away, conversing with the police officers. "When are you two making friendship bracelets?" She leaned in close to Octavia and added, "I've got one I can put around your neck–"
"That would be a necklace, dear Valkyrie," Octavia interrupted with a straight face. Empty threats didn't necessarily bear any weight.
The griffon rolled her eyes. In the swift moment of relaxation, Sesame glared. Octavia and he could get along just fine.
"Whatever. Gonna have ta say goodbye ta him soon anyway."
"Excuse me?" Octavia asked, taking a step forward.
"He ain't comin' with us," Valkyrie replied, her head slowly shaking to allow her as much glaring as possible.
"As it looks right now," Sesame spoke up, prompting Octavia to swivel about and almost snap her neck in the process, "I'm a bit homeless. And jobless." The normal, almost joyous tone in his voice betrayed the true ice on his words.
Octavia smiled softly as a trio of paws and claws began to scratch at the sidewalk next to Valkyrie. The griffon turned her head to find her feathered companions glowering at her, annoyed. W took a step forward, commenting, "Sorry about that. Didn't think we'd burn the whole thing down, though I can't say it was my fault." He gave Octavia a look that made her stick out her tongue and want to cross her forelegs. The bird chuckled. "What are we talking about with the so-incredibly-nice Valkyrie?"
"Just tellin' the Unicorn he's not comin' with us–"
The griffon's head suddenly shot forward, her beak wide open as a resounding thud sounded out. W's outstretched claw, now exposed due to Valkyrie's leaning forward, returned to its rightful place on the ground. "Really?" He asked, "We burn his house down and muck up his job, and you treat him like shit?"
Valkyrie tilted her injured head and, as if she were slightly afraid she'd be reprimanded, asked, "Unicorn isn't... actually comin' with us, is he?"
W snapped to it, his head swiveling about like a hawk—a feat not too surprising for a bird—to Sesame's position. The Unicorn, his cigarette still burning in his mouth, blinked dumbly.
"What can you bring to the table?"
Sesame cleared his throat. "Well, you know I know a bit about maps." He licked his lips when he noticed the griffon's still facade. "Know a bit of how to lockpick, too." Fortunate. Huh. Now they had a criminal in their depths, or at least a potential one. She didn't mean to accuse, but such a power could only lead to trouble.
W smiled toothily, nudging Lavi next to him as he whispered in a higher volume than was intended for such a thing, "God, just what we were looking for."
"Shut uuup," Lavi said, eyes glaring at the bright blue sky above them. Octavia now had a bit of a hunch over why the griffons first needed her help with that stupid box in the first place. She screwed up her face to quietly giggle, but quickly closed her mouth at Lavi's annoyed scowl. The griffon kept her expression, but shook her head and smiled at the mare, who grinned back in kind. "Anyway, if you're gonna come with us, we're gonna head down to the train station. Might wanna pack up whatever you–"
"My house is gone."
Lavi blinked. Twice. She coughed into a claw, sputtering, "O-oh, right! My bad." She shuffled about, looking every which way and sheepishly grinning at the griffons and ponies currently all wondering if she was all right in her little bird brain. Her smile of sheepishness shifted to one of enjoyment, and she struck a sassy pose as she claimed, "Looking costs extra." She was scowling now. "Are we heading to Baltimare, or what?"
Octavia expected there to be nods, or even simple acknowledgments that Lavi had said something, but the griffons simply turned tail and began walking toward the train station, with its namesake—or at least the first part anyway—screaming in the distance. Sesame, beginning to follow them, brandished a horribly casual look that didn't fit a pony just wandering with strangers. Octavia, trotting over to his side, knew she probably had to get him off this ride as fast as possible. She was going to be home soon, and those griffons probably wouldn't know what to do with him.
"Are you... sure of all this?" She asked, walking alongside him a foot behind the griffons.
Sesame simply looked back at her.
"I mean, my house burned down. Where else would I go?"
She had an answer on her tongue, but it crawled its way back down into her gut and sank there.