Stroll

by re- Yamsmos


Ideas

Octavia had always held a bit of an almost unhealthy fondness for her own name. She had to admit that it seemed just a tad odd—and maybe slightly depressing—if one were opposed to the name that their mother and fathers had slaved over for months since their child's conception, if even just a bit rude. It would seem a little ungrateful, really. Pony naming conventions were so incredibly difficult and absolutely precise, it was always such a wonder that it consistently appeared to work out in everypony's favor. Though it was a bit humorous whenever she heard of ponies with household names such as Cottage Cheese or Cinnamon Stick—which in turn would cause her to giggle amusingly to herself next time she was forced to buy groceries—one's name was something to be proud of and thereby uphold, and Octavia had always strived to be the best version of Octavia Philharmonica she could be.

Her family's naming schemes always had something to do with music, a tradition that her mother had told her stretched years and years and millennia back during the time of First Harmony, when the very first Celle Violica stepped hoof on the earth. Octavia had always liked her name, though. Octavia, she presumed, was based on octaves, and Philharmonica, she knew, was based on philharmonic, which referred to a symphonic orchestra. It was always fun to inform ponies of what her name was, and then explain it when they raised brows and screwed up their lips in amusement. A soft, unwanted glare would cross her forehead, but she would kindly smile and inwardly remind herself that there was no deep, wondrous, convincing story about the origin of Tomato Paste. Still though, what an ass.

It took her until this very second to realize why she always slightly fidgeted whenever W or the others turned to address Lavi. It was exactly one letter off and in a completely replicated rhyming scheme from a nickname she'd gotten during grade school: Tavi. She'd always... kind of been annoyed by it. What was the point of nicknames, really? Just call the person by their actual name! She'd heard, time and time again, that the excuse for the existence of nicknames was that it was quicker to use one. Quicker by—what—a whole five milliseconds or so? Syllables shouldn't be the reason for misidentification!

Ponies had called her Octi, as well. It pained her in the ever so slightest manner whenever it was used. She'd always held a sort of mind-numbing fear of octopuses—octopi? Octopusi?—since she was a filly. Their... beaks, and their big, bulbous, freakishly gargantuan heads they had as they swam along the ocean depths by way of troglodytic propulsion. She'd always loved swimming when she was younger, but it was always the number one thing that kept her close to the shore and in eyesight of her overprotective mother and father.

Said overprotective mother and father had a strange love for calling Octavia in groups of three, whether it was to get her out of bed in the morning, find out where she had gotten lost in the market, or when they had to tell her to go to sleep because she wouldn't stop practicing her bass lessons. Her friends, even, whenever they all decided to go out to a restaurant and she took too long to order. She wasn't even safe at Symphony rehearsals, where her constant daydreaming was foiled by Frederick or Dan, their conductor. Octavia loved her name, as she had previously mentioned, but when it came to her in the form of three loud, thunderous, usually-belonging-to-parent shouts, she held only slight resentment. She was a grown mare now—and, really, had been for the better part of seven years now—but even at this very moment, she swore she could hear them calling for her from far away somewhere.

"Octavia!"

She groaned from way down in her throat, a gurgly reverberation promising Smoker's Voice if she kept it up. She bared her teeth, reaching for the pillow that she was sure was just above her head. Gods, she really wasn't feeling up to going to school right now.

"Octavia!"

Was it just her groggy misunderstanding, or had her father taken some kind of punch to the gut not two seconds earlier? His voice sounded a lot... deeper and gritty than usual. Adding onto that...

...was that a ringing in her ears?

Oh Gods it was getting louder–

"Octavia!"

She blinked rapidly, the bright sun above blinding her in an instant. Narrowing her purple eyes, she tried to grit her teeth and cringe at the unwelcome delivery of pure Vitamin D, but suddenly realized she was... hyperventilating, as if she were the asthmatic kid back in high school with the paper bag. Wild eyes darted around as Octavia sat up on what she assumed to be the concrete—if the sharp rock and cold pebbles were any indications. Shaking her head, she looked up and found W and Sesame reaching for her with a black claw and an orange hoof. Groaning, she felt the appendages lift her up from the back, shakily plopped all four of her hooves back on the ground, and tried steadying her breathing.

Oh Gods what had just happened. It was like she couldn't... she couldn't breathe! The world was painfully scalding now, and she hadn't a fan anywhere nearby to rid herself of the sweat pouring down her brow. She stared straight ahead, eyes wide, as her chest rose and fell in stammers.

"Thank you," she barely sputtered out, half-heartingly looking to her left and right.

W opened his beak, presumably to ask if she were alright, but was caught off by a voice she found familiar.

"Ya blacked out, lass!" Lock Jaw informed, chuckling potato-encrusted chuckles at her.

She'd what?! Blacked out as in... passed out?! She fainted?! She'd never passed out in her life! Why now?!

"Ya look as if yuh've seen a ghost, little mare! Are you doin' alright?"

She clenched her eyes shut, felt wrinkles on her nose, and opened them not a few seconds after. She glared in silence, not knowing what to really say. Lock Jaw, Lionheart, and Red Vines... the three ponies who'd kidnapped her back in Ponyville. They had caused her to worry about her oven, they had caused her to be out here in the first place... and they were standing right in front of her, right now. Last time she'd seen them, they were heading, what, Southward down the Everfree. How in the wide world of Equestria had they gotten to Baltimare before she had?!

She saw a yellow ear twitch from behind the mass of red that was Red Vines, and remembered Banana Peel as well. He'd been the one who escaped from the homestead back in the Everfree, but he'd been on hoof. How did he get to Lock Jaw and the others, and in turn gotten to Baltimare—again—before she had? She felt her heart twinge just a bit. He'd tricked her as well, back when she'd first met W and them. He wasn't actually a fan at all, and mind her they didn't really exist anyway, but she felt her throat lock up all the same. Banana Peel stared back at her, the look of a kicked puppy plastered on his face. He clearly didn't want to have ran into her, either. Maybe he and his thief friends had a conscious after all.

Wait.

Octavia stopped, her prior look of defiant anger instantly fading to fear. Beyond Banana was a massive shroud of ponies. Had she made a scene by fainting? There were bystanders, for sure. She risked a look behind her and, ignoring the wayward glance from Valkyrie, sucked in a small bubble of air at the other half of watching ponies just behind them. Oh Gods they'd garnered a crowd. The atmosphere was free of spoken words by either party of thieves and griffons, but Octavia knew that their audience was talking amongst themselves like they were watching a Godsdamned movie.

She turned back around. Maybe if there were some paparazzi, they'd only get shots of the back of her head, and then it could be anypony on the front cover of Pony Magazine. She idly brushed her long tail up against her left flank to further disguise herself, the purple Treble Clef wannabe hiding under a swarm of smoky hairs.

"Ya know, mare, it was very rude of ya ta steal away with our bags an' all. Ya call us thieves, but you're the one who made bank."

"Unless you had plans for filly birthday parties, I don't believe the juice boxes and cookies you stole would've meant anything anyway."

Octavia felt nine pairs of eyes suddenly look her way, four of which she could actually see. She swallowed a lump down her throat. Her snark would seriously be the death of her.

Valkyrie's laugh echoed across the sidewalk. Eight pairs, Octavia corrected.

"You guys took juice boxes and cookies?! Sputnik, did you rob a kindergarten?!"

"Shut it, you fowl," Red Vines spat, a growl reverberating from behind her clenched teeth, "the only thing you'd rob is a pregnancy test–"

Octavia leaned her neck back and rotated her head a bit to her right. She muttered a silent, "What?" of puzzlement, but shortly afterward heard an audible version from Lavi next to her.

"What?"

All eyes were on Red Vines, now. The mare looked to her left and right to find the stares of her own companions leering confusedly at her. The mare's Pegasus fur was a deep red, but Octavia could still see the disgruntled blush coloring her cheeks.

"I– I– I... it... because you..."

"Awkwarrrrd..." Lavi sang.

"Right?" Valkyrie asked, as if the two were talking about common interests, "Worst thieves I've ever talked to," she added in a slightly lowered volume.

"How many thieves have you talked to, then?" W asked, attention more fixated on his subordinate than the rising conflict happening right in front of him, "Is that just a thing you do when you're alone or something? Is it a good idea to let you walk around while we go eat?"

"No," Valkyrie said swiftly, almost not letting the older griffon finish.

"Should I have someone watch you or something–"

"No."

"Watching over Valkyrie is like waiting for Gilda to finish baking her scones," T chimed in. Gilda, was that the griffon she'd seen stalking the market a year or two back? The one Rainbow Dash had brought along?

W and the others laughed, obviously tickled by some sort of inside joke that apparently Sesame was part of as well. Octavia turned to her left and cautiously stared at the ex-fry cook as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"And why are you laughing, Sesame?"

"I like to be a part of things."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Ugh..."

"Hey!"

Octavia looked up. W and the others, presumably, did so as well.

Lionheart had stepped forward, one of his hooves pausing in the air in mid-stomp. Realizing that he had already kicked the concrete once, he stuttered to himself and slowly lowered the offending foreleg. Valkyrie giggled behind Octavia.

"You robbed us of a very important business meeting back in the Everfree! We're not gonna let that stuff fly!"

"Oh please," Lavi replied, "if those ponies we wrangled up in that clearing were your guys, I really doubt there's much you can do."

"Plus the eight or so Octavia took out at the lodge..." T spoke once more.

"Wait, eight?!" Valkyrie asked incredulously, "Why the hell didn't you tell me about that?!"

"I didn't even mean to!" Octavia shouted back, turning her head to glare at the griffon. "It was just... accidental!"

Valkyrie leaned to her left to look over Octavia's shoulder and address her kidnappers. "Eight guys by accident?" Her eyes went up and down. "Geez, you guys should consider getting good at some point."

"Listen, we–"

"First the petty thievery of grade school lunch snacks..." Valkyrie started.

"...and then getting your asses kicked by a mare who can't fight..." Lavi continued.

It was Octavia's turn to gasp and scowl. "Hey!"

"...and now you're making fools of yourselves in broad daylight," T finished, a smile on his beak.

"Fools, huh?" Lock Jaw asked, horn levitating something by his side, "Let's see you call us fools again after this–"

TWEEEEEEET!

The two parties shut their eyes and covered their ears, grimacing at the loud-ass whistle that had assaulted their ear drums. Octavia cursed under her breath. Gods, she'd always hated the staff members with their damn whistles during recess. It was like everything in the world halted at once whenever you heard it. Wincing, she and the others turned to the outside of the sidewalk to find a blue-uniformed figure silently glaring at them with a pair of ropes sticking out of her mouth. Pursing her lips and spitting the bright silver buzzer out onto her clothes, the mare looked to her left with a condescending frown to Octavia and her merry band of griffons and Unicorn. The mare blinked, then swiveled about to look at Lock Jaw and his hearty crew of petty robbers with a deep hum of disapproval.

She gave a sly grin, a hoof adjusting the black brimmed cap atop her head.

"After what, Lock Jaw?"

Octavia turned to the Unicorn, who turned to her in kind. His horn's aura cut out in an instant.

"Hail, what in the hell do ya think you're doin'?"

"Well," the assumed Hail began, flicking a few long dark tangelo hairs out of her eyes, "helping these folks out from the shroud of your spud-famined figure, it looks like."

"Better watch your mouth, Hail–"

"And you better walk away..." Hail shot back, waggling her eyebrows as a hoof went to the side of her uniform, "...unless of course... you want a couple hours in a cell next to Big Boo, who—by the way, Red?—is still waiting for your call!"

Red Vines shuddered like it was thirty below.

"Four of us, and one of you. You wanna try that arrest, still?" Lionheart asked, going into a low crouch.

Hail chuckled to herself and whistled a tune with her ever-so-slightly strong voice, her hoof suddenly coming out with a side-handled police baton that she began spinning around by the nylon wristband as W, simultaneously, reached to his back and pulled Candidate free of its holster.

The police officer and the old griffon exchanged looks of silent approval, then nodded at one another with grins.

"I'll give you five seconds," Hail said, popping her neck, "and maybe you'll figure out what you wanna do."

Lock Jaw looked from one member of his group to the next, and then back again. Shutting his eyes, he let out a long sigh and glared at Hail out of the corner of his eyes. "We'll be back, mare–"

"In hoofcuffs, maybe," Hail retorted, flinging a hoof toward the opposite end of the street. "Now shoo, you're crowding the hotel."

Lock Jaw turned his head and faced Octavia with a snarl. He shook his head, then about-faced with a simple, under-his-breath, "Let's get goin', now."

As the four began trotting away, Hail brought her previously flinging hoof to the sky and waved it around in an arc, calling, "That goes for the rest of you! Move along, now! Nothin' worth seeing here anymore!" The crowd that had enclosed Octavia and the others began to disperse, leaving only Hail and them on the steps leading up to the Red Baron. Octavia felt her heart beating out of her chest. She had gotten through this morning without getting injured. She felt absolutely sure that she would've been attacked then and there.

"Now, 'flaccid' isn't normally a word I'd associate with a stand-off," Hail called, cantering over to Octavia, "but... that was flaccid."

Octavia turned her head to face the approaching officer, whose brilliantly gamboge fur shone at her from underneath a dark blue shirt. She narrowed her eyes at Hail's uniform, noting its odd appearance compared to the usual police officers' she'd seen while they roamed the streets, but didn't think anything of it. The bumps on either side of Hail's body as well told signs of something not quite right, but Octavia shook her head and realized that they were just police equipment attached to her black belt.

"Name's Razor Hail. Hope I wasn't disturbing anything there."

"No ma'am," W replied reassuringly, bringing a claw up in front of the mare, "always nice to avoid kicking ass in the morning."

Hail chuckled, shaking the griffon's claw with a hoof and causing the badge over her heart to jangle, "Always nice to not have to write another damn report." Her hoof clopping back onto the concrete, the officer turned her head and looked at Octavia, who smiled despite the circumstances. "Hey, you're Octavia, right?"

"Indeed I am, Miss Hail," Octavia replied with a curt nod.

"And I'm Sesame–"

"Shut up," Valkyrie spat.

Purple stared into brown. "Do you know of me because of the Canterlot Symphony?"

"Yeah, yeah. You've got that concert in a few days up north, I think."

Right. Octavia sucked in a breath, but let it out when she realized she'd be there in time. Speaking of which, they really had to get going, so...

"We were just heading off to go get some food," W spoke, "you want us to buy you something? You definitely deserve some free food for defusing that bomb."

"Nah," Hail said, the golden badge cresting her hat shimmering in the sun, "but thanks for the offer." She turned around and flicked a fly with her long tail, "I gotta go patrol a few blocks down. Stay safe, though! And I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Octavia! Gotta see your bass playing for myself!"

"Later, officer–" Sesame called, interrupted by an overly excited Lavi.

"See ya, Hail!"

"What's so cheery about you, Lavi?" Valkyrie asked, genuinely confused.

"Dude, she's hot!"

"You're not even a lesbian!"

"Hey, I can tell."