Evade [Dead]

[Sirel]

Pearl rushed out of the photography studio, zipping up her plain, blue fade hoodie as tightly about her as she could despite the blistering heat of the day. It was a routine, futile attempt to disguise herself from the general public. Not as if this did much good beside melt her in the sun. The dense fabric trapped the beating rays like a sauna. Of course, the mare was easily identified by her large, distinctive feathery wings and the decorative tail that bounced behind her as she trotted through the city streets nervously. With one polished hoof she pushed her large, dark-lens sunglasses up her muzzle, eyes shifting about beneath them. Ponies everywhere would suddenly turn and gasp excitedly as they saw her approach, their hooves pointing jovially as they gestured to their friends, some even swarming about with their breathy, over-exasperated voices. Her grey, pink-dusted fur stood on end as they seemed to close in ever tighter around her. The mare blinked as a unicorn stopped abruptly in front of her; silently sucking in a gasp of shock, her shiny eyes stared up at a stallion whose mouth began to drip with a black, oily substance, his eyes growing dark and more globs of ooze spraying from his muzzle as he opened it to speak, "Hello, Miss Maeve Pearl!" his voice was clear and professional with a melodic ring of optimism. 

The mare hardly appeared flustered at her vision, as it was a normal occurrence.. not as if it ever stopped bothering her, though. She grit her teeth and looked back at the stallion. His coat was a bright cerulean blue, white mane groomed stylishly, and certainly no dripping black tar from his pink, well taken care of mouth. With a glow of snowy, sparkling magic he held a microphone uncomfortably close to her face. She tossed her mane and threw her nose in the air in the typical Canterlot celebrity fashion and budged him out of her way as she quickly stepped past him. Fame was her game, but the pestering got old fast. Fan mail..? Taken care of by ponies she paid. She huffed as she began to lose the crowd. Pearl slipped into an alley-way more by accident than anything. An alley is no place for a celebrity, especially not her, and if she had been thinking presently she most certainly would not have stooped so low as to visit such a dreadful, filthy place. However, the shade the high walls of the surrounding buildings offered was cooling, and the lack of ponies made the alley very tranquil. The mare sighed and folded her designer sunglasses into a pocket of her hoodie before pulling the hood back. A gentle breeze tousled her styled mane as she peered into the lurking darkness. It would take a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dank light, but she assumed she was alone here.

[Deleted]

Fame. Nothing better then relaxing outside your house then getting toppled by a whole bunch of paparazzi and fans. Oh joy. It might seem awesome to be famous, getting known outside the world, always getting others to pay attention to you, and only you. That was the problem, though. You could possibly never know when or where they would come from. It's like they were spies, or black ninjas that bounced from wall to wall without you noticing. Soon they would end up scaring the snot out of you, and you would be off to the raced again.

Of course these things never happened to Hard Core here. She was just an average drummer who just likes to play to the beat of what ever thing pops into her head with her cracked, old drumsticks. And of course that's what she was doing in that exact moment. Slamming her sticks onto whatever thing her eyes found apon. Different types of sounds would pop out. Low ones, high ones, big ones, small ones. Some of them were almost a whisper, but they still made a sound and that's all that mattered to her.

Now, while making these dumb tunes, her mind started to get all foggy, soon losing track of where the music loving unicorn would go. Her hooves had made up their own thing, walking down a dark alleyway and to a filthy, area where no pony was seen, except for one.

Hardy stopped, looking ahead of herself. Her sticks floated to the sides of her, making no more sound. Her ears twitched as her eyes squinted, seeing a very.. strange pony. She blinked a few times, noticing the beautiful Pegasus in front of her did not see her yet, so she made a move to say something, though she hated to talk. "Um.. hey," she muttered, hopefully not startling the pretty pony, or you know, knowing her she probably wanted to scare her for fun.

[joxis]

The inevitable Baldoire Pertuisane was skipping about dark, dark alleys, proving once and for all that what he should have learned to his cost that one time he got mugged and robbed of thirty ancient and long devalued coins in one of said dark alleys, he never remembered. On this particular day, he was wearing a pony-sized t-shirt, a pony-sized pair of slim trousers and pony-sized trainers. In a nutshell, the everypleb's attire. Fortunately, Ponyville seemed safe this on this day. This conclusion could be drawn from a flawless logical progression : Unspeakable eldritch abominations had subsequently invaded then gotten kicked out of town less than a week ago. Thus, nothing was to be feared for the next five days, not even bandits, who never originated from Ponyville and always turned out to be quite the faint-hearted fellows when faced with even the bottom of the barrel of the Everfree forest.

Then Baldoire heard them. The drums. To the Laymane, that sound would be assimilated to either a neophyte using drumsticks backwards, or a new revolutionary style of music. But Baldoire was no fool to the obvious, invariably true nature of the beat. War drums. Not that he had ever heard war drums in his life. He just read about them once or thrice and the definition remained : 'A drum beaten as a summons or an accompaniment to battle absolutely wherever in the entire world even in the most peaceful and godforsaken of places'. That's exactly how he remembered it. Thus, following his instincts, he charged one alley in particular, in aim of standing upright and ready for war. The drummer in sight, his speed doubled, causing him to knocked a blue unicorn over as he braked and saluted.

"Reporting, sir-" He then noticed the appearance of the one who had summoned him and decided to give her Something more appropriate than 'sir'. Nothing came to his mind, though. Slightly distressed, he turned to the beautiful immaculate pink-maned unicorn beside him and gave her a feeble push in one particular part of the ribs, usually causing ponies to stand up as straight as he always did. "Psst," he then whispered to - unbeknowst to him - the celebrity, "salute, miss private ma'am. I don't know why we're fighting or where we're going, but at least show some respect for our invoker."

He paused, not quite letting enough time for either of the three ponies present to realise exactly what he was going on about. "By the way," he was still whispering. "need a bodyguard for the day ? Only 20 bits. I really need them to buy ... Something."

[Sirel]

The mare's dark blue-black colored eyes widened and her ears flew forward as she heard an odd noise.. Are those.. drums? Oh god, her stomach lurched as she imagined a parade of ponies flooding around her, their flutes and drums and trumpets blaring thunderously as they marched in step down the exact path she had taken. Alas, the reel of imaginative thought was at once absent from her mind as one singular pony appeared at the other end of the alley. The sandy pelted mare stared at her in what seemed like as much shock as Pearl possessed at seeing her. A small, awkward greeting arose from the unicorn's mouth, and it took the celebrity a moment to register. She did not have time to react to this, however, as a blur of grey fur flit past her.

The pegasus furrowed her brow and made a move to speak, yet was cut off again. His hooves slid in the dirt as he came to a sudden halt in front of the mare who had previously addressed her. Who are these ponies? she scowled, hoping she hadn't run into the most ridiculous fan prank of all time, but she decided to keep it cordial in the chance that there were hidden ponies observing. Her eyes quickly scanned the alley in search of such ponies, but she then flinched as the stallion's presumably grubby, muddy hoof dared poke her in the side. She didn't much care for this hoodie, but it is designer!! She huffed indignantly at this outlandish, thoughtless pony's actions and how he even dared command her to do such a thing as salute this random peasant who happened upon her only moments before. "Excuse me!? Do you know who I am? Who are you ponies anyway?" her voice was beautiful, but she raised it sharply at them.

Her lips were drawn in a tight line and she narrowed her eyes at the stallion who, even after his offense, whispered an inquiry of his hire. Twenty bits was but a thing to scoff at. However, if this stallion was any good at actually keeping ponies away from her, perhaps she would consider it. His attire was absolutely dreadful as well.. that would be the first thing to change if I did consider hiring him, she pondered. "If your talents are satisfactory and of my standards, perhaps. I only ask you make an appointment to see me through my agent, it is unprofessional to discuss business at such a time as this," she rolled her eyes as if this would be obvious to anypony.

[Ashti Sandburst]

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