The hooded figure ran through the back allies and side streets of Canterlot City, the bandana covering her nose and mouth while a pair of sunglasses hid her eyes. Ordinarily, the glasses also would have made running through the darkened streets at night difficult, if not dangerous, but she'd had more than enough practice to make it work.

Breathing a bit heavily from her run, she hoisted herself up onto the lid of a dumpster, the cans and bottles in her backpack clinking together as she did, and jumped to the side of a fire escape. She hauled herself up and over the railing and started to climb as quickly and quietly as she could, ducking under windows and staying as low as possible. When she finally reached the roof, she dashed across it and took a running jump from the edge across the next alley. Then another across the next, and even clearing a third as she continued to run.

However, her luck ran out on the fourth; the alley here was just a bit wider than the other three and, while she did make the leap, she landed awkwardly, and the weight of her backpack put her just off balance enough that she started to tip backward. Her arms flailed as she struggled to keep her balance, but she was past the point of saving it now; she started to tilt back further...

Only to be jerked forward as a hand grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled her onto the roof.

Sunset Shimmer sighed as she watched her regain her footing. "You're lucky I was looking for you when I did," she said. "That was too close."

Dusting herself off, the hooded figure looked at Sunset, expression unreadable due to her disguise. "Thanks," she said at last, her thick accent distorted a bit by the bandana. "Woulda been nothin' but street pizza if youse hadn't come along."

Sunset Shimmer smirked as she raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I almost believed that was genuine. How long did it take you to learn to talk like that, 'Flanksy'?"

She was silent for a bit longer before reaching and removing her accessories with a sigh. "A few months," Octavia said, her Trottingham accent back in place. "I was getting to the point I'd started to spawn imitators, and wanted to differentiate between my art and the 'tagging' of some random hooligans. Phone interviews were the easiest way to do that."

"I see," Sunset said, folding her arms and appraising her fellow student. "That being?"

"They are doing it to prove their own 'coolness'," she said, spitting out the last word like it tasted of a bitter lemon, "while I am simply trying to get people talking." She narrowed her eyes slightly at Sunset. "And I am not going to stop, if that is what you have come here to ask."

"Even after your near-death experience?"

Octavia did an admirable job of imitating Rarity's beatbox style of scoffing. "I have made that jump countless times before tonight. I did not get where I am by folding at the first sign of difficulty."

That got a chuckle out of Sunset. "No, I suppose not." She shook her head a bit, still smiling. "Anyway, I'm not here to ask you to stop. Rather, I was curious. How much would I have to pay you to get a... commission, let's call it."

Octavia blinked. "Come again?"

Rarity groaned, resisting the urge to either find a large tub or ice cream to drown her sorrows in, or go curl up in Applejack's arms until the problem at hand went away. However, she knew, knew all too well, that neither of those would do anything to fix the issue at hand. Prim Hemline had been counting on her to design something eye-catching for the storefront, and despite her monumental efforts and the input of her various friends, she had come up with precisely zero workable ideas. She had even considered asking her pony counterpart for help, but the elder Rarity had been occupied with her own workload and couldn't spare the time.

As such, with no real hope of fixing things in the scant amount of time left to her, Rarity continued to walk toward the shop, preparing herself to face the consequences of her failure like a big girl. However, as she approached her workplace, she became aware of the crowd that had gathered in front of her place of business, several of them with cellphones out and taking pictures. Eyes wide with shock and confusion, she had to pause to gather her wits for a moment before pushing her way through the crowd. "Excuse me, pardon me, let me through if you could, sorry."

Eventually, she managed to reach the front to get a good view at just what everyone was so interested in.

The front of the shop was now covered with vibrant colors; a diamond—modeled after the very same ones that where now hidden under her skirt no less—seemed to shimmer on the wall, a beam of light cascading down into it and splitting into a radiant rainbow that snaked about and around the windows of the shop. Even the displays themselves had been worked into the design, each boasting backdrops modeled after the various dresses within them.

And, in the corner of each, a heavily stylized 'F' marked the work of Flanksy.

"Hm." Rarity almost jumped as Prim Hemline walked out of the crowd, regarding the display with a critical eye. "A bit unorthodox," she finally declared, "but effective enough." She glanced at Rarity, her face impassive. "Adequately done, Rarity." And, with that, she walked off to attend to other matters.

"Thanks," Sunset said, watching from a nearby alley with Octavia. "I transferred the money to your account."

"You are quite welcome," Octavia replied with a smile. "And thank you as well." She turned to walk away, then hesitated. "You do promise not to tell anyone about me, right?"

"I promise," Sunset replied with a chuckle.

Octavia sighed in relief as she resume her walk. "Good. Vinyl would never let me hear the end of it if she found out."

Author's Notes:

Neither SaintAbsol nor I have read Exit Through Canterlot. We should probably correct that. Of course, this is based on the recent EqG short that used the same name for a roving street artist as much as it is that story.