The Death of Strawberry Cream
There are two things you should know about this story:
Stratosphere does not like space. And Stratosphere is a thief. Nothing else is really all that important. Except for maybe that she absolutely, definitely didn't steal an ancient book of spells the last night.
Let us get on with it shall we.
Stratosphere Light is not what one would call fond of early mornings. She could tolerate midday, late afternoon had its appeal. Dusk was legions ahead of midday in terms of appeal. If Nightmare Moon had gotten her wish and bathed the whole of Equestria in eternal night, Stratosphere would have been delighted. A lot can happen at night. Or, as she'd like to say, a lot can go missing at night. Stratosphere was a thief after all. Midnight was her home. She liked to believe she was nocturnal. Which was why the loud banging on her small, cute, molding one bedroom basement apartment sitting on the edge of the slums of Canterlot at 7 am wasn't particularly welcome to somepony who was nursing a hard apple cider headache that made her sympathize with the door. She wrapped her favorite robe around her, dragged herself to the door, opened it, and regretted everything about this already awful morning. Because standing in stiff looking uniforms and matching mustaches were the Canterlot City Police or the CCP. Officer Siren and Officer Parks their name tags informed her.
Oh no.
"Morning officers. What do you want?"
Stratosphere was a thief, but not a con artist. You have to be charming to be a con artist. Stratosphere is what we'd dub the exact opposite of charming. Or friendly. Or particularly likable at all. Of her many flaws she definitely lacked… tact in how she went about things. Today however, she wished she'd picked a different profession.
"Are you Miss Strawberry Cream?"
"I am… sometimes called that yes. But not, ya know, all the tiime. It's my legal name for sure Officer."
"What were your whereabouts last night?"
She could lawyer up, if she had a lawyer, but in this sort of situation, one she'd been in many a time, it was best to just answer their questions, "I was at a bar."
"Can anypony confirm that for you?" Officer Siren asked, ruffling his white spotted wings, trying to look bigger than he was.
"My pounding headache can." The police officers remained stoic, "And I was with a friend, Raspberry Blue, she lives on 21st street, she can confirm where I was last night."
"What bar were you at?"
"The 8th Inning, a couple of blocks from here."
"Are you aware that the book of spells," Officer Parks took a second to flip through his notes, "entitled 'Book of Powerful Things' written by Merlin the Great was almost stolen last night? A book that you have been caught, tried, and been found guilty of attempting to view unlawfully."
"I was not aware. When did this happen?"
"About 2:00 am this morning."
"Ah see, I was passed out on the bathroom floor at that point. Do you have any more questions?"
"No at this moment. But be ready to answer more in the coming days."
"Yeah, awesome, thanks guys." Stratosphere tried for a superior smile, close the door on their stupid faces, and locked the deadbolt. And almost dropped dead. She figured she had about a half hour or so before they realized a few things. One, the 8th Inning was a bar that was practically on top of the palace, it also wasn't a bar, it was a very nice restaurant with a bar inside of it. Two, Raspberry Blue hadn't lived in her 21st street apartment in years, and that apartment was right around where they'd lost their thief last night. And three, she had been passed out at about 2 am but that had been in a back alley bar she'd ducked into after tripping the one lock mechanism she'd forgotten about, and running away from the police for the longest 20 minutes of her entire life. Stupid Celestia and her stupid stupid security spells. They'd never been Stratosphere's strong point. Not that it mattered. She needed to skip town. Fast.
In a whirl of well practiced magic, Stratosphere packed up her entire apartment. She vaporized entire copies of books and transported the rest to a library down the street. Gone went her bed, the lovely comforter and bad mattress she'd just been lounging on. Strawberry Cream's cute frilly curtains bought in an attempt to bright the place up never even stood a chance. Once the apartment was clear she vaporized all of her clothes except for a few items she rarely wore and a scarf to tire around her rather ostentatious red and pink mane. A few dabs of makeup and her false cutie mark disappeared. The physical transition was rough but it would have to do for now. She left a stack of coins under the mat in hopes that the landlady wouldn't be too mouthy with the police when they questioned her about Strawberry Cream. With a final adieu to her teeny tiny apartment with it's rat infested walls, and peeling wallpaper, she proceeded to find the nearest metro station, which was a risk. The place was crawling with guards and she wouldn't be able to stay hidden from the authorities for much longer. Once they pieced together what she'd done, gotten back to her nonexistent apartment, the would set out a warning to any and all security personnel. She ducked past a few guards, scampered on a train and kept her head down.
A few metro stops in, she landed where she wanted to be. Carrot Stop Shop Station. This place was busier and more bustling than anywhere else. She would change stops here, and head to the suburbs where she could buy a little more time. First, of course, she'd have to shed Strawberry Cream. Funny, she was just starting to like that name. But that name should have been gone long ago, her sentiments had set her behind schedule and she needed to get back in the game. Even last night had been a mistake. She'd gotten too comfortable as Strawberry. She was almost grateful to the officers for reminding her never to get too comfortable in any one place.
She ducked into a small metro bathroom, relieved to find it empty. Putting up a maintenance sign, and locking the door magically, she set to work. As a professional thief, even if not very charming, Stratosphere was very good at disappearing. With a few quick snips of her mane with her shearers, she lopped off Strawberry's cutesy curls and was left with a short spiky mess. Which a little bit of mane gel swirled into something stylish if a little messy. A couple of cosmetic spells and a rather painful cutie mark changer, her coat went from cream to light blue, her mane from red and pink to a dark blue with white, and her cutie mark turned into a half moon. "Hello Hallow Moon." Stratosphere smirked in the mirror. Wrapping the scarf around her neck and carrying herself with much more confidence she repacked her bag and slipped out of the bathroom.
