Stroll

by re- Yamsmos

Town

First, she'd have to make sure her oven was perfectly clean and switched to off. Perfectly clean to her meant no dust, no crumbs, no smudges of any kind, almost bare non-existence of anything totally alien to the oven's otherwise black surface, all polished and shiny like the bald head of a fashion model. Octavia had inwardly hoped that she hadn't left the kitchen appliance on—mostly out of concern for the electric bill she would surely pile up and gorge if she had done so than the possibility of burning her entire humble abode down in a blaze of accidental glory—but truth be told she honestly couldn't quite remember. It wasn't that it was that long ago either. If she recalled correctly—which she was positive she was—she had been gone for, say, five or six days. There was the first day she'd been taken, then the night she'd spent running, then the day she'd spent with the griffons for the first time, then the night she'd woken up in the log cabin, then the morning trek she'd seen the abandoned train, and then...

Gods, how long had they been in the cave? The one in the Smokey Mountains? She felt she'd been in there for years, it had taken so long to get through it! What with its... bloody twists and stupid turns, and its damn rocks, and the cave water she was glad she hadn't joined the griffons in drinking. She inwardly hoped she wouldn't have to go into and through another entire cave anywhere in the near future. She'd only gone in one so far in her later years, and already was she tired of them. She of course had gone... what was the word... spelunking when she was a kid with Colgate, Lyra, and Golden, into large, tunneling er, tunnels, with ups and downs and lefts and rights that would loop back over each other and through each other like some kind of necktie knot straight out of the wild wild depths of Tartarus. They'd walked a few miles, possibly equivalent to a marathon or two, while inside there, and with no coincidentally placed holes marring the rocky ceiling for all that time, it was a little difficult to deduce just what time of day it was, and how many times of day had passed. The only clear sign was that Octavia and the griffons had entered it in the crisp, early pre-afternoon, and emerged from its shadowy depths to a bright mid-day with a blinding sun and a cold chipper air.

But yes, the first thing Octavia had to do when she arrived home was make sure her blasted oven was off. She was a little worried about its current state of hopefully inactivity, and seeing as how her roommate never stepped foot into the kitchen unless it was to get a new plate of china to break and obliterate, it was most likely still functioning at peak condition since her departure from its lovely confinement five or six or how many or so days ago. She could easily come home to a smoldering wreckage, and she would have nopony to blame but herself for such an effect. She didn't like owing up to her mistakes, even though she valued honesty and tried her hardest to be such to everypony she was acquainted with, and her house burning down definitely wouldn't be on her list of things to fess up to. Once she arrived back in Ponyville, she'd have to sprint as fast as her legs could handle to her front door and step inside as quickly as possible to assess the possible damage. That would be the first thing to do.

...

Actually, no. The first thing she'd have to do is take out her key and open up her front door, with hooves she knew would be shaky beyond belief and a head rush she knew would be painful and blinding. Maybe not just a rush, maybe she'd have a headache as well. She wasn't really fit for running all too fast; if she did, she might sprain something and have to take a few weeks off of her work that she couldn't bare to detach herself from. The Symphony had an upcoming concert in Trottingham in about a week or so, and she had to be there so she could play with her coworkers to the night's end for all the lovely twenty or so people who would most likely attend. One would probably have an infant with them, and she'd start crying and crying and have to be taken out, and then there would be eighteen and oh who was Octavia kidding they'd probably be packed beyond belief, like salty sardines in a Gods-damned oily canister. Octavia involuntarily sniffed at the air, the current conversation around her drowning out her odd action. She could still smell the grease. Eugh.

Well, at least she had a plan now. Open her front door, and then step inside. A good first two steps, if she did say so herself. A welcome start to her prior having nothing on the matter of returning home. W had told her there was a train station in the northern part of Tall Tale that led right back to Canterlot's rail line, which itself led to four other locations in the surrounding area: Manehattan and Hollow Shades, Fillydelphia and Baltimare, back to Tall Tale and Vanhoover, and finally, Ponyville. She'd take the next train there and bid her goodbyes to W and his crew. She was a little sad that she'd have to leave them—she didn't really know why, honestly—but she wanted to go home a whole hay of a lot more than walk around Equestria with an armored old griffon and his dysfunctional subordinates. She was already getting stares from the guards at the front gate, she couldn't possibly imagine the intensity of the actions she'd receive in the city's walls. Once they got inside, they'd find those train ponies, make sure they were okay, give the pendant back, and be off on their merry way. Octavia was a bit hungry herself, though not as much as the griffons, but she was sure she could persuade them to wait until they got on the train to get food. Train food wasn't all that bad. They had some nice dinner platters and assorted cheeses. Namely brie, oh how Octavia loved brie cheese.

The first step was to get to her house's front door.

But the first step to getting to that was getting into Tall Tale.

Octavia wanted to get home. But these ponies guarding the front gate were trying their absolute hardest to make sure that she wouldn't get the chance to. The current argument was surely one for the ages.

"Let us in, mud pony, or I swear to Sputnik I'll break your legs and toss you to the Goddamned Marshmallow Factory!"

Oh Valkyrie, never change, dear.

Standing in front of the group with a balled up claw raised in front of her beak, the griffon looked up and growled at the ponies in their watchtower. Their looks of normality seemed to serve for the sole purpose of further angering the aggressive bird cursing at them from below, looks that they showed to one another to find they all bore the same expression. Their armored heads dipped to their left, accompanying the synchronized eye-rolling from within.

One spoke up, his sharp spear thumping on the wood by his hooves. "We told you already, bird brain, we can't!" Allowing Valkyrie time to place her previously raised claw on the cobblestone road, he continued, "Whole city's on lockdown because of the recent robbery at the mayor's office! No one gets in or out!"

Octavia noted his distinct usage of the phrase "no one" instead of "nopony". What an interesting side-effect of living in a city with a pony minority.

"Are you sure about that, glue boy?" Valkyrie shouted, crossing the line that Octavia had secretly set up for herself, "I've got a loaded gun on my back that might disagree with that– hey!"

W tightened his grip on her shoulder, glaring at her almost annoyingly when she turned his way, "Valkyrie, now's not the time to make a fool out of yourself. We need to get in, and I need you to let me handle this."

"Oh, right, like they'll listen to the old ass griffon who'd rather invite them to tea than shoot them," she spat, crossing her arms and frowning heavily, "y'know we'd probably get a lot more things done if you'd just shoot first more. Questions can wait until they're limping around and seizing on the floor."

"Shooting first gets you wasted shots, Val. Now step aside and let me handle this."

Valkyrie's furrowed brow scrunched up. Rolling her dark green eyes, she let out a heavy sigh and over-dramatically lifted her right hindleg, stepping out of the way of W. Shaking his head dismissively, the griffon's leader calmly walked up to the gate, kicked at the road, and looked up to see the ponies now regarding him with dung-eating grins and bent elbows. Clearing his throat, he said, "We'd like to come in."

Octavia looked to the sky at Valkyrie's exasperated groan.

"Oh, is that right?!" One of the guards asked, holding a chewed-up apple in his hoof. "Here I thought you all were just making pleasant conversation!"

W glared.

"We told you lot, we can't let you in! The robbery! Mayor's office? Ring a bell, old-timer?! You've been here arguing with us for the past ten minutes about entry, and each and every single time you ask we always say the same thing! And that's, no!"

W remained silent, a soft frown on his black beak as he simply studied the jerkass ponies in the tower.

How such a division of the guard could be so rude under Celestia's rule quite honestly astounded Octavia. They had a bit of a point in their favor, but they still had no real right in being so boorish to a group of absolute strangers.

"Now look, griffon! It's been a bit of a long day for me and my friends here, and we're not really itching to get back to our houses in those streets of dragons and dogs, so I'll tell you what!"

W, still silent, waved his claws around and sat on his haunches like a child watching a movie in the theater.

"We'll let you in, but we need you to do something first!"

Oh, wait! Octavia knew these parts! This was like those events in one of her fantasy books, where the heroine—or hero, she didn't want to be sexist—had to go on a short quest to gain access to something! Usually, the something was a nice new suit of armor, or a shiny sword, but the effect was all the same! That meant that she could go out and...

...prolong her not being at her home.

She stopped dead in her thought tracks. Oh Gods she really didn't want to go off and do another thing to get back home. Hadn't the cave and those cabin ponies been enough?! Judging by these guardsponies, they'd request something completely ridiculous, like a long lost Pharaoh's staff or a crystal skull or something. There was no way they'd be able to get into Tall Tale! Even Unicorn magic couldn't do something like think up an ancient relic!

"My friend here didn't get the name of that pretty mare running the cart that just ran out of here! If you could trek back a ways and get it, we'd be much obliged! So much, in fact, we could possibly see letting you in!" The guard roared with laughter, his friends joining in as they grabbed their bellies and shut their eyes to face the setting sun.

Octavia turned to the others near her. They reflected her look of confusion.

Swiveling about to ask W about whether they were going to go about it, Octavia's eyes grew wide. W stood up on all four of his legs, reaching for the bags situated on his body. Grabbing at one of them, he pulled out a small sack that jingled and jangled as he stretched his arm out, rotated his body, and promptly chucked it at one of the pony's heads. The guard fell with a metallic clunk and a shout. All looked toward the heavily armored griffon, who raised a claw to the side of his beak and shouted, "That's about fifty bits for you! That enough to shut you up?!"

The remaining three ponies, now wide-eyed and frowning, turned to one another in obvious panic. Two faced one, then nodded. The lone stallion, baring his teeth, quickly walked out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

W's blue eyes darted back at Octavia and his group. With a smile on his beak, he raised a brow and shrugged.

The large gate to Tall Tale suddenly began to rise upward with a hellish creak and a flurry of dust and broken rock.

As it reached the peak of its ascension, W walked back over to his companions and pointed at the entrance.

"Ready to head in?"

Nods.

Octavia shook her messenger bag, remembering her plan. Hopefully the others would stick to it as well. She'd much rather not walk through a foreign city of stares and gawks alone.

"Well, come on then."

Comments

[DoContra]

mostly out of concern for the electric bill she would surely pile up and gorge if she had done so than the possibility of burning her entire humble abode down in a blaze of accidental glory

Plot twist! (up until now, I thought it was a gas oven)

[re- Yamsmos]

7093290 Luxuries, man, luxuries!

[the other sans]

The lone stallion, bearing his teeth

1. Baring. Again. Yep, just that one letter.

Indeed, electric ovens are the luxury item to use. Less chance of a gas fire and you could just stock up on one kind of fire extinguisher and not use the multiple ones which cost a helluva lot more.