A Moment Of Honesty

Rush hour had ceased hours ago, allowing a momentary lull to greet the streets. At this time, there were only a few cars passing by on the roads, ultimately leaving things quiet and particularly lonely. The sun hadn't yet fully set, therefore basking the city in an orange glow just before the eventual dusk. There was the occasional pedestrian walking by, yet nothing to warrant curiosity or a turn of the head.

That was until a particular griffon had entered the scene.

She had decided to walk this evening. Flying was wonderful and she had no need to use vehicles, but this was a calm and collected night where she could take her time. And despite this, she still sought to flaunt it.

Therefore, walking down the streets was a white griffon. Completely white, like a recently washed dove. The sound that shattered this lonely night was a set of bright pink heels clacking against the pavement, with the confidence and pzazz of a fashion show walkway participant. Indeed, this woman in particular was fond of the colour pink. Long, pink hair. Pink eyes. Pink short dress. Pink gloves. Pink lipstick on that pink beak. It was obnoxiously garish and bold, and she had every intention of showing it off.

She walked down this street with a wide and confident smirk on her lips, her hips swaying with a beat in her head. She had no audience, yet she still considered herself a performer and a star. Passing by a bus shelter, she hummed cheerfully to herself.

Now Maxie was more than happy to strut along, hand on her hips, her tail swaying from side to side. She was happy to walk freely and confidently and did so with a consistent air of blatant smugness. In fact, if the air wasn't so quiet and if the night wasn't so silent, she would have been lost in her own mind and would have easily missed it. But the small murmuring of the feline cut the air like a knife. And Maxie was prime and open to hear it.

"Excuse me, honey?" the griffon declared, giving a sudden and graceful twirl on her feet, landing it with a firm and authoritative CLACK of her pink heels against cobblestone. Her lips, graced with dark pink lipstick, twitched into a wry smirk. Her pink eyes glowered at Victoria through the glass.

Maxie never did well with people ruining her fun. A lot of people did it all the time, and she disliked it at every instance. After all, if it's not hurting you directly, why hate it? There was already too much sadness and anger in the world, and scoffing at someone's looks, at someone having fun, was the bottom of the barrel.

"Got something to say to me, babe? Cause mmm, I'm all ears~" She didn't move towards the girl, but stood still with her arms crossed and a disappointed frown on her face. Taking a proper look at this girl, the griffon raised her nose up in disgust. Great. She had no issue with punk - people had ways to express themselves, and that was one of them. More power to her. But her outfit was littered with black, and it was that sort of appearance that she personally didn't like. The brat could do better. Then again, they probably didn't care - they were too busy hating everyone else to give them a chance to love themselves.

Victoria didn’t budge at the griffin’s confrontation; instead, she just kept staring at her nonchalantly from the corner of her eye. After a while, Victoria slowly turned her head to face her, looking her up and down again. 

Yep...this person was nothing but a walking ego alright. Even though Victoria didn't mean to make that comment out loud—her mouth's filter was lost behind stress—she meant every word of it, and even moreso now. The air this woman was putting on made Victoria just...sick. And then she even had the nerve to turn her nose up like she was so much better? Oh, no. If there was any way to tick this margay off, that’d be it.

But instead of immediately snapping back, Victoria squinted as if looking straight through her, searching for ammo to retort with. This griffin—just like everyone else, she cynically presumed—was just another liar. She wasn’t buying the loud dress, the gaudy ribbons, the high heels, the bright makeup, the bratty vocal inflection, the exaggerated body language, the pretentious bravado: none of it. People this flashy externally were usually compensating for something internally. And in those few seconds, Victoria read everything she could about this woman to decipher what this 'something' was...a 'something' she picked up on after examining the griffin's physique. 'Something' that showed the griffin had no right to look down on anybody.

But Victoria didn’t bother to say it right then and there, tempted as she was. More than anything, right now she just wanted to be left alone.

“...Did I stutter?” she coldly replied to the griffin's remark, raising an eyebrow. Obviously this woman must’ve heard her; otherwise she wouldn’t have confronted Victoria so aggressively. She shook her head and returned to leaning against the bus shelter’s siding, closing her eyes. “You know what, just...just keep walking, toots. You really don’t want to start with me, alright?...But seriously, kill the act. Or at least fix the wig. It’s getting lopsided.”

The last statement was a lie, solely to get a reaction. But she did pick up on the wig; she didn’t notice a hairline when she inspected her, and deduced that someone this vain, who’d go this far to gussy up their looks, had no reason not to their natural hair. She cracked her eye open and watched just to see how the griffin would react.

This was such a repulsive brat. When your immediate response when you see someone is to insult them and then tell them they're the issue? It disgusted her. Genuinely disgusted her. And as Victoria spoke, Maxie's face contorted from a forced grin to an outright frown, her gaze shifting quickly from minor amusement to contempt. It was brats like her that gave Maxie more motivation to flaunt her stuff. It was brats like her that gave her more motivation to be an idol and defend those who couldn't.

At the 'wig' comment, her facade didn't break - she'd heard those sort of comments before. But her hand did reach up to adjust her hair instinctively as the griffon responded back, "Aww, cute, looks like someone needs an itty bitty reality check~" she cooed, clasping her gloved hands together. That statement was pretty ironic considering who it was coming from.

"Here's a little tip from dear ol' me, sunshine," she began, refusing to 'keep walking' like this little rude troglodyte ordered. By Victoria saying that, it just made her want to stay all the more, "Stop being such a judgemental little brat? Because oooohh sweetie, you are such a foul and unlikeable little bully."

Running a hand through her hair, she flicked it dramatically with her grin returned. Even if it was artificial, it was still fabulous and she was going to flaunt it right in front of this girl's face. She didn't like it? Well tough, she was going to deal with it. "And 'don't start'? Sweetie, YOU started this. With ME. I was just enjoying my lovely little walk, being as FABULOUS as ever until you raised your ugly, judgemental little head and made a filthy little comment that you could have kept to yourself."

"Are you jealous?" she continued, her pink and frilly form looming over this feline, "Jealous that I can wear what I want and still feel just... mmm... SO great about myself, and 'act' how I want, and, hah-" she motioned with a hand at Victoria, "-Well. After looking at you? I just feel so much better."

Victoria had to hold back a triumphant smirk when the griffin fell for her lie and reached for the wig. Not only was it satisfying to make a fool out of this stuck-up, would-be princess, it subtly confirmed that everything Victoria read of her—both the wig, and what laid beneath it—was more than likely true.

But the griffin didn’t back down at all, immediately retaliating with a barrage of belittling insults. Victoria just slowly picked her head up from the shelter’s siding and eyed this pink nuisance with an stone-cold glare. The insults themselves didn’t mean much: being called ‘jealous’ was predictable, something all arrogant people say when their pride feels attacked, and the other labels—’judgemental’, ‘unlikable’, a ‘bully’—were fairly ironic, even hypocritical to be coming from someone so snobbish. The biggest peeve was just how adamant this chick was to keep up an argument over a single petty comment muttered under someone’s breath. Victoria told to her to just go about her way and drop it, but instead she decided to snap back as if it was so crucial to defend her inflated ego. That, coupled with what Victoria read earlier...yep, this was the exact kind of person Victoria hated the most. And given that she was in a bad mood already—oh, she was more than ready to tell this broad off and make her regret even thinking about arguing with her. 

But simple name-calling wasn't Victoria's forte. She did things a little...differently. Unlike many, she actually knew how to read people past their superficial qualities. And what better way to cut this griffin down…

...than to expose her for the liar she really was?

“...Yea, you’re right. Someone needs a little reality check.” Victoria said. She turned her body, fully facing the griffin, leaning her back against the bus shelter’s side. After pushing away a loose bang from in front of her face, she refolded her arms and put the griffin back in her sights.

“...Pretty fancy get-up you’ve got there. Must not come cheap, hm?” she said, squinting once again. “Your job must like, pay pretty well.”

She paused for a second as if giving the griffin a chance to answer, but abruptly continued speaking before she could: “You’re some kind of performer, aren’t you? It’s obvious you love being the center of attention...you must love shaking your stuff in front of people, huh? Crowds of them, even?...Let’s see, your voice—as obnoxious as it is—doesn’t seem that cut out for singing or whatever...a dancer, maybe? And judging by those moves you were making...something like, an exotic dancer?”

After another brief pause, she gently leaned forward, pushing off of the bus shelter’s siding. Planting both feet firmly on the ground, she started to walk slowly, straight towards the griffin. Her folded arms and loose hands showed that she wasn’t going to physically attack her, but with every step, her eyes would leer deeper and deeper into the griffin, like a predator studying its prey; every move, every expression—heck, every breath—she made, Victoria would be watching.

“Yea...being in the spotlight day in and day out...having a bunch of guys drool all over you, playing them like putty in your hands—it’s almost addicting isn’t it?...Hundreds or like, even thousands of people all showering you with every bit of love and attention that you desire...that you crave…And you’re just drunk in it, aren’t you? Going around making a spectacle of yourself, feeding off that spotlight and thinking that everybody’s gonna just love and adore and idolize…’this’. You think that people...owe you that attention...don’t you?”

At this point, she’d now be directly in front of the griffin, as much in her face as her short stature would allow. She spoke quietly, as if directing her words straight towards this woman: “I get it, babe. I really do. Guys don’t like naturally flat-chested, bald-headed, thin-hipped tramps like you...don’t they? So, just drown it in makeup and expensive clothing and all that to become….’this’. Someone you’re completely not just to get the affection you oh so desire...See, I wouldn’t have a problem if your attitude wasn’t so...yick. Like you think hiding behind a fancy getup is going to magically make you better than everyone else...”

“...Here’s my ‘little tip’ for you, 'sunshine'. Don’t ever try to talk about ‘reality’ when everything about you is a lie. You’re compensating for something...Something that goes beyond all this…’this’.”

She paused and leaned in ever so slightly, just breaking into the griffin’s personal space. Her expression was emotionless, but her aura was as harsh, icy and fearless as ever. Her eyes were like daggers, staring right into the griffin’s with almost soul-piercing intensity. Her speech would get even slower, making sure the griffin soaked in every single word she uttered.

“Someone...really hates you to bring you down this low, don’t they? Someone you consider close...Close enough for their opinion to really matter, hm?...A guy, perhaps?...Daddy issues?...Yea...yea that person—or those people—they hate you, alright. And pretty much killed what little self-confidence you had left…And so, you put on this little…’act’, this fake show of pride, manipulating people into getting the attention you oh so desire because...because you’re scared...scared to let everyone see what goes on behind all the glitz and glamour, hm?

...Now, you want to give me a reality check, babe? Let me give you one in return...You want to put on all this tacky crap and parade around like a desperate clown? Go ahead. But you have absolutely no right...No. Right. Whatsoever….To act like you’re better than anybody. Wanna know why?

Because you’re a liar. And nothing more.”

She leaned in even more, whispering to the griffin with a tilt of her head and sly, somewhat devilish grin: “Now...how’s about we save the insults for someone who really knows what they're looking at...k?”

At first, Maxie stayed where she was, her footing strong and firm, refusing to budge against the approaching feline. After all, she was a trained fighter.  If this bitch made any moves of aggression, she'd find herself thrown to the floor in an instant. She rolled her eyes dramatically, placing her hands on her hips with a drawn-out sigh, expecting a rant about how she wasn't that pretty and who did she think she was. So many things she'd heard before.

But the feline kept going.

It was true that she bathed in spotlight. After all, why shouldn't she? She was an idol of the people, she had to leave an impression. Attention was a drug to her, but she didn't think of that as a bad thing. Everyone liked attention, everyone liked to be validated. If she wanted to show off what she had and get praise for it, she had every right to do that. And it's not like she sat and expected it, she worked for it! She danced, and she fought, and she worked hard to get where she was! Maxie scoffed loudly, opening her beak for a retort-

But Victoria wasn't going to let her get a word in.

The comment about being a 'flat-chested, bald-headed thin-hipped tramp' made her take a step back, her eyes wide with equal disgust and surprise. Who did this little brat think she was? These comments weren't new to her, she couldn't hide her figure. Occasionally, she had heard insults flung her way from the jealous type, but she'd learnt to dismiss them and overpower them with her own confidence. Despite that though, she didn't take that affirmative step forward.

Her attitude was yick? Her attitude was 'yick'? This little brat, this pathetic demeaning child had the absolute worst attitude she had ever seen! All Maxie had done was walk by, and this girl thought her existence gave her the right to insult and drag her down? This brat thought herself better than anyone else! She was the biggest hypocrite here, and Maxie's hands balled into fists.

This was the kind of person Maxie hated. Loathed. This was a bully. Lowlife scum that brought nothing to society, and only sought to make it worse or only benefit themselves. They sat, and they judged, because they thought themselves the peak of mobian creation, and everyone else was a troglodyte. They didn't care about feelings, they didn't care about others, they only cared about their own advancement. She hissed, her feathers bristling. Maxie had heard all of this before.

But what she hadn't heard was what Victoria said next.

There had been insults, there had been scoffs. There had been plenty of that, and she'd always fought through it. She was someone she was proud of, after all. Why shouldn't she be? She's Maxie. ...But to hear someone openly state that she wasn't, with such honest flatness, caught her completely off guard. For someone, in a matter of moments, to completely unveil everything. It was like this person was actively tearing down her defences to see the miserable, sad, little worm beneath. And they were watching it wriggle in the blazing heat.

His voice broke. For just a second. Just a small, tiny, window of weakness. 
A crack in the glass.

"Y-you... I'm not...-"
They took another step back.
"Who... who gave... you the right... to speak like that... to me...?!" they gasped, holding a hand against their chest, their lion tail recoiling between their legs. Ironically enough, it was as if the air had been forced from their lungs, "You... don't... know me....!"

As the griffin backed away, Victoria’s sharp gaze remained fixed on her. She leaned back, straightening her posture, and surveyed the griffin’s reaction to her words.

Of course, Victoria was no mind-reader; in fact, she didn’t completely know if everything she said was true. All she could do was make educated guesses based on the griffin’s characteristics. However, by directing these guesses to the griffin, she hoped to trigger a response, be it verbally or nonverbally, that implied these guesses were in some way significant. *

And the griffin’s reactions showed that they were more than just significant to her. Hearing Victoria's words seemed to have adversely affected her; her smug disposition quickly turned into anger, shock, even a tinge of fear. On top of this, there was something peculiar going on with her voice...something that made Victoria's eyebrow twitch with curiosity. Nevertheless, she noted every bit of this response, and, piecing it all together, concluded that her read was a ‘hit’.

Now, it was time to dig deeper.

After the brief pause—giving a chance for the griffin to stew under her frigid glare—Victoria continued, switching her tone from cold and condemning to more relaxed and calm, with a hint of sarcasm:

“...Is that it? Just, ‘you don’t know me’? That’s all you’ve got?...No insults, no sass, nothing?...Well that’s disappointing. What happened to that overconfident bimbo that was just walking by a second ago, hm?

“...Does hearing the truth shake you up the badly?”

She paused again, then chuckled, tilting her head. “You know, it’s kind of funny you even say that, ‘you don’t know me’...People only say that when they’re getting...defensive. Like they’re being confronted with something they don’t want to face…Heh, and you wanna know what’s funnier?...The fact that you immediately came back with that--”

--without denying a single word I just said.”

Suddenly, the triumphant grin she held back earlier slowly began creeping over her face. She had this griffin now, and boy was it satisfying to cut this arrogant little tramp down to size. But she didn’t stop there. Keeping her arms crossed, she shifted her weight, cocked her hips, and leered smugly at the griffin, taunting her: “What’s wrong, hon?..Did I strike a nerve? Did I hurt that fragile, fake little ego of yours?...I mean, just look at you: stepping away with your tail between your legs...hand over your chest, as if guarding your heart...Not to mention, that cute little voice crack that leaked out earlier...Nope, that...definitely doesn’t feel like the stuck-up princess who was in your place just a second ago…

...Unless that was never you to begin with.”

“...But,” she shrugged, “You’re right. I don’t know you...So let me just put it to you like this—” She stepped forward, abruptly closing the distance between her and the griffin to get right back in her face. Her voice grew cold, callous, and damning once again. If the griffin stepped back again at any time, Victoria’d step with her, not letting her get even an inch away.

”—I don’t need to know you. You’re a fraud. A phony. And all your lies are written all over you from head to toe. There’s no amount of frilly bows or loud dresses—or fake voices—that can hide it, toots.”

“You’re nothing but an insecure, spineless little coward playing dress-up so they don’t have to face reality.”

She’d again lean in as close as she could to the griffin’s face, jabbing her words right into her. “It sucks, doesn’t it? An ‘unlikeabke bully’ like me, taking this little act you’ve worked so hard on for so long and ripping it all apart like the trash it is...you must’ve been genuinely scared of this for a while now, huh?...Something you could’ve easily avoided if you just walked away like I told you to...But you know what?...Fine. You’ve made me curious anyway. So, you wanna stick around so badly, babe? Wanna keep up this little argument?...Then how’s about you let it loose, hm?...C’mon. Show me who you really are...Stand up for yourself for the first time in forever...Or, if you wanna leave...then go ahead. Run. Again. Like you've done from your real self for so many years.”