Chapters An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
The Beginning
In real life nothing interesting like what we see in the movies, games and books ever really happens. It’s just the way life is. However, I once heard that magical things can happen in one’s life, you only had to know where to look. That was not the case in my situation. I was college student living in Brooklyn New York, not a genius but then again not an idiot either. Recently I caught on to this new television show that has been gaining popularity amongst people of all ages. A little kids show called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” I know it’s weird, a little kids show with talking ponies that has a major fan base online with children, grown men and women. At first I had serious doubts about it however I gave it a chance and found it to be enjoyable. The show finished its second season or at least that’s how far I have seen the show.
I don’t know how it happened; I don’t even remember what happened before this. I started regaining my consciousness slowly, and before my eyes opened I already had the realization that I was not in my bed. I was on the ground near the edge of a forest when I began to wake up on. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that the world looked exactly like from a cartoon with outlines and extreme colors. At first I thought I was drugged or maybe I finally lost my mind. However as the hour or so it felt past, I realized that somehow everything was real. I touched the grass, trees and surroundings to realize that everything felt natural even though there were no details of the tree bark ridges or the dirt of the ground. As I took notice of my surroundings, I saw in the distance a small town and I realized where I was. I could not believe it but I was in a cartoon world. Yet when I looked at my body I noticed that somehow I had retained my own realistic view of my body. Imagine comparing your hand to the cartoon, it looked contradicting like the two realities were never meant to exist together.
Equestria, a land full of magic, talking pastel colored ponies and large importance on friendship. I was almost 100 percent completely certain that I have lost my mind and that I am probably in some mental institution right now dreaming and foaming in the mouth. But then again, ignorance is bliss. To make a long story short I went to the town and met up with its inhabitants. There were ponies exactly like in the show and they had no idea what I was. My first interaction with the ponies was exactly like what you would expect with meeting other beings or aliens. Their height was up to my waste, which made them more like dwarfed ponies if not about dog size. Surprisingly, whenever I mentioned my contradicting reality appearance they had no idea what I meant and did not notice anything weird or strange other than me being some alien to them. I met with the whole main cast, we had a good friendly beginning, and then shit happened. Twilight sent a letter to you know who about me, and through a short list of events I was publicly announced to be an untrusting, deceitful and murderous monster that will eat all ponies at any given chance. Trying to speak my mind and convince everyone (or is it everypony? Whatever) that those accusations were wrong did not make any difference. Apparently when the Princess has spoken no one doubted her words. I was exiled from her land, forbidden to ever return under the order of me being imprisoned for the rest of my days. Although Celestia was angry with me for some unknown reason, she was not cruel. I was to be exiled into the Everfree forest on the very same day of my arrival and given an old looking, yet sharp sword. She didn’t even give me a chance to talk to her or even ask her why. Celestia banished me instead of returning me home, which meant that she could not send me back and I was stuck in this world possibly for good.
So there I was, in a cartoon world that was supposedly full of happy and tolerant creatures who instantly started hating me as soon as the bitch princess said I was a monster for some unknown half-ass reason and thrown out of their land on the same day of my arrival. I can honestly say that I did not expect anything like this to happen to me today. Now that I look back at it, this was one the pivotal “What The Fuck” moments of my life. The first week was spent me having to survive in the forest, finding food and shelter. Aside from the crapy welcome and banishment from an entire country on the same day, I had to be one of the luckiest bastards ever. Not because I went to Equestria, it’s because I have spent the better part of my free time in my past life training and practicing survival techniques and skills. How to build shelters, make fire, tools, find and treat water and many other things. I got so obsessed with it that I carry a belt bag with me everywhere I go with important things. A multi utility tool, a zippo lither, some fingerless gloves for fighting, a scarf, a little notebook with some important recipes, a pen, a whole spool of strong fishing string and a pocket knife. It got so bad that even installed a survival guide app in my iphone. The clothes that I arrived were the best for this situation; jeans, shirt, a hooded jacket and sneakers, all in my favored color black. The jacket was made for every season except summer (which unfortunately was the current season); it is durable and has many inside and out pockets which is good for traveling and long term survival. I was ready for almost anything, a little too prepared maybe.
However there were other things on my mind, like surviving in the forest that is supposed to be the most dangerous place in the show. Besides the cartoonish appearance, the woods were like any other if you went into one .The first week was relatively easy in regards to survival and safety, the mental struggle was a different issue. Within that week I contemplated my life as whole before I came to this world. How I lost more than my home, the comforts and pleasures of humanities technology and accomplishments. My friends and family, how will they take my disappearance? My parents will take it the hardest, weeks held in hope that I will return to them. Followed by depressing hopelessness as the weeks turn to moths, knowing full well that the reappearance rate of missing people is extremely small in America or anywhere else for that matter. But I know that they are strong and they will get through it. Within that one week I had to force myself to settle in peace with what happened to my life. Knowing full well that if allowed this to hang over my head; it will eventually eat me inside until I make a mistake that will result in my death. I said my goodbyes to everything I once held important, not an easy task in a short period of time. Although I had an advantage that made this transition easier for me than I would have for others in such a situation, I never really did like humanity all that much. Or my own life for that matter, I trained and practiced skills that would not be necessary or all that needed in my old life. I remembered how I once held goals and ambitions for my future. However I also remembered how all those goals and ambitions slowly died, making me apathetic to most things and eventually not caring about others. The world that I lived in forced me in to studying hard to get a job position that I would not hate too much and that would give me enough money to enjoy myself. Maybe not forced, but I did not want live a life of poverty so I had to make a choice. How do you live when you have nothing to desire or care for? Yes you have family and friends, but that only goes so far before even that diminishes in value. I wanted nothing in my life that society or my world could provide me. I always wanted adventure and to travel the great outdoors, not to play games of my fantasies but to actually live them. Then again, I am guessing that I am not the only one with such desires. Besides the army or the peace core (which neither appealed to me), I decided on simple survival training, hiking, mountain climbing and anything else that I could find. I never really liked people, there were good individuals that I can call my friends and had their backs, and I knew that they had mine. Those would be the people that I would miss along with my family. As far the world goes, it can burn in hell for nearly twenty years of my life lived in torture. I did not want to get in to that topic, the world I knew is gone and I can say that was something to rejoice in. I know my world was not all that bad; it is only my experience in it that made me bitter towards it. Dealing with the feeling of loss was somewhat difficult seeing how all my possessions were from my old life. The iphone died out in the first two days with no way of charging it unless maybe magic. Which I could not get any and no unicorn would come near me to even ask if it would be possible to charge the phone with magic. You never realize how many things we humans take for granted on a daily basis. The abundance of food, the quick access to any information at the push of a button, cheaply priced clothes for every season, a roof over your head, even the bed sheets and covers. I can live without most of the conveniences, but man did I miss coffee for all that time. If it were legal I would marry coffee, that’s how badly I miss it.
I made a nice shelter on the first day and after two days I then stared to build something better for long term. The end result was a small hut under the roots of a tree and hidden with camouflage and reinforced with thick branches, sticks and leaves to prevent too much water damage if rain were to start. I found fresh water by a stream that went a little deeper in to the woods. It held some kind of fish that became my source of food along with the local fruit’s that grew nearby. I made spears with stone arrow heads which I practiced throwing at tree targets. Spear fishing was not easy for some time as I later learned that the trick is to hit them where they are going to be and not where they are. Sleeping was hard for the first week due to my habit of having to go to sleep late and waking up early like most others. I took me some time to readjust to a different sleep schedule so I could wake up early and be able accomplish more in the day. That meant I could not stay up late and then again I did not have anything to entertain me to keep me up at night. The forest was not as dangerous as the show stated, it was safe near the edge and it only started to get dangerous as it went deeper.
In the second week I encountered the dangers of this world, namely the wild life. The manticore was huge, not proportional to a normal lion in any way. The size alone made it formidable, it was taller than me when sitting in it hind legs. Not to mention the bat wings and scorpion tail. I saw it at a safe distance and instantly made a mental note to avoid it all cost. A lion by itself is dangerous, but that thing was overkill. It looked exactly like it did in the cartoon, but that did not mean that it was harmless and I was not going to test that. Within the next week I was greeted by a pack of six Timberwolfs. I was not stupid enough to leave my sword behind, but I didn’t have my jacket because it was too hot to wear it. Not having anything to cover my arms or my chest except a shirt has left me more exposed than I would have been if I had it with me. I felt confident in my fighting skills as trained in mixed martial arts and like most kids when they were young I practice sword fighting. Taking a fighting stance with my sword raised, I readied myself for the oncoming battle. It was my first test of skill and combat in this new world. The wolves were made from wood, sticks and leaves, but that didn’t mean that they were flimsy, fragile or slow. They were surrounding me, encircling me, reading to attack at the first sight weakness. Their behavior follows through with those of regular wolfs, at least as far as I know about wild wolves. One in the front and the other in the back, two of them attacked first apparently finding an opening. I quickly moved forward and sidestepped to the right as I swung my sword at the running wolf. The sword cut of the top right of the wolf’s head as it skittered forward and fell dead. Its insides looked like they were made from wood too, and instead of blood it looked like sap. It seems that it doesn’t matter if the wolf is made of wood, if you do damage to the sensitive regions of the body it will die like any other living thing. I quickly turned behind me and swung the sword at the other wolf. The wolf jumped at me as it ran and ended up having it left side cut to its throat while being impaled by the forward momentum. It was still alive, gagging and suffocating from the sword lodged past its throat. I pushed it of my sword with my foot before I stabbed in its skull. Right after, I noticed blood on my arm and realized that its claws were outstretched as it jumped forward, cutting across my unprotected right arm. The cut wasn’t deep but it still hurt, the claws were wooden and dirty so it left some splinters and a large chance of an infection. However, I couldn’t care about that as the other wolfs around me began to circle again. Readying myself for the next attack, one of them decided to start a staring competition with me as the rest stopped to look. It was relatively bigger than the other; actually it was bigger than any real wolf I have seen alive or dead. Has to be the pack’s alpha male, strongest of all the others by experience and survival in combat. It seemed strange to me, the normal wolf behavior only calls for the alpha when the prey has either shown itself to be a challenge and took out its best hunters or it called out the alpha for dominance. As far I knew, I did neither of those things. I guess they never really had a prey that fought back. The alpha didn’t wait and ran at me faster than I could respond. It was about to bite down on me before I raised my left arm to block its attack. The pain was like nothing I could describe. The wooden teeth forcing themselves further into my flesh with extreme strength had made my arm feel hot with pain and bleeding profusely. I raised my right arm with the sword and started to swing down on its back. With each blow I took out pieces of its back that looked like wood and bark. After some tussling back and forth it let go before it jumper right and bit on my left leg, just above the ankle. The pain was annoying but didn’t care; the alpha had made its mistake. I quickly raised my sword and forced it down on its head, shattering the back of it head and went all the way to the ground instantly. The thing fell down dead, still holding my leg in a strong bite grip. The other wolfs backed away from the scene before running away. So much for the idea of me becoming their new alpha, I guess their more like real wolves then they appear. The fight was over and I was safe for a short time. They know I am weakened and it won’t be long before my blood attracts other predators. My shelter is safe, but not against constant burrowing of wolfs for a long period of time. My best chances would be somewhere up top in a tree. However, the wounds need cleaning and treatment which I could do if I make it to my shelter. Tying the leg wound with a piece of my shirt, I started off to my shelter. The pain in my leg made it harder to walk, as the wooden fangs were still inside. I made it near my shelter before I finally could not hold on and passed out from a light head due to blood loss. I slept well with no dreams as I never had any as far as I could remember.
When I woke up, I found myself by the camp fire place I made in the first week with the fire bringing lighting to the surrounding darkness. I instantly noticed someone sitting on the other side of the fire. As I sat up, I noticed my wounds were cleaned and wrapped in white cloth that felt like hospital gauss. The one sitting across from me was none other than Zecora the zebra. Her rhyming was interesting to hear with her African like accent and the same voice as the show. Her story was that she saw me on the ground while walking by, she could not lift me or carry me so she made shore I was stable before running back to her home and bringing the necessary items for my wounds. It seems that she was warned about a monster that was exiled to the forest the day I arrived. While talking with her she seemed to show no judgment of me and when asked about it she simply retold the lesson of her first episode appearance. Don’t judge a book by its cover, I only wish the rest of the ponies held that lesson in mind when they banished me from their land. With her saving my life, a new friendship was made. In the weeks that followed my fight and rescue, I stared to do more hunting with other wild life. There were no deer or many rabbits, so I decided to mainly hunt things in abundance like the cockatrice using a bow and arrows I made. They were the same size as chickens and were relatively easy to kill. The mythology about them was wrong when it said that their gaze would turn its victims to stone. As long as you don’t look directly at it eyes you were fine, you can look at it in your peripheral vision or even straight at it as long as not its eyes. Using the fishing line for the bow string and two days worth of constant practice made my hunting easy. Shooting arrows at targets, learning to do so while running, and even how to shoot fish in the lake had made my hunting easy and exiting. The cockatrice tasted like chicken which sort of made sense except that the majority of it body was that of a lizard or dragon. Hmmm, slow rousted goodness. The hides were easy to tan and make them in bags if I need to go gather fruits or the some plants for Zecora.
She was a good friend that would talk with me on empty nights, teach me some remedies for cuts, burns and anti venom for common poisons. In return I showed her some of my recopies which were more useful for me than for her. Our conversations went to many topics ranging philosophy to the world around us. She understood my nature as a human and an omnivore. She used an analogy that a manticore cannot help but eat what it eats to show her understanding of feeding needs. In one of our conversations, I discovered that there was more to this world than the show portrayed. The pony society has a different outlook regarding culture, technology, relationships, different species, war and other things. Their culture is similar to humans, except on gender lines and some other things. The equine and herbivore biology naturally made them into a peaceful sentient society. The history was limited to what Zecora knew about ponies and Equestria. The ponies did know war, except what she described was not war but an equivalent of a skirmish. The griffins were a warrior race at some point in time. However because this world was in some kind of peace with different kingdoms and countries, there is little need for an over the top military society. The griffins hold a voluntary sign up for military and guard positions, the only remnant of a once battle worn and war ready race. The Equestrian guard didn’t really have a military purpose, if anything it is mostly for show of the royal bitches’ power to uphold peace with her own army. Equestria was the biggest country of them all due to the power of the two princesses. There are other lands with different cultures and history which Zecora only heard about. Some of the online MLP fandom was right regarding many things such as the female to male ratio of ponies. The whole relationship topic was rather strange to me; it never really occurred to me that this world has both monogamy and polygamy. I generally don’t care about such things as long no one bothers me about it. Apparently technology is in between two different periods of human time and it has not changed for nearly a hundred years. In some way it makes sense, what would be the point if magic takes care of everyone’s needs. She described to me her homeland and species which was in some ways surprising. Her home country was an island continent called Zebrika (really? doesn’t anyone ever notice the lame puns and lack of originality?) The zebra homeland has a tribal culture which mainly focuses on farming like many other countries of this world. Their knowledge of technology was modern as was their society. A modern day tribe if you can imagine. Although she was not a pony she did have a mark on her flanks. She explained that that was not a cutie mark (I can’t even say that word), but more of a tribal tattoo. The symbol was collection of meanings as it explains the tribe she is from, what their place in society is and what are their accomplishments. Her tribe was mainly peaceful medicine and potion makers as well as care takers for all troubles of the land. There were other tribe with their own special tattoo’s and place in society. Their history was relatively peaceful like the ponies although they did have more wars and conflicts like any other normal society. Key word here: normal. There was nothing normal about this world. Her country’s government was like that of Equestria, a monarchy over large land with democracy for representatives of towns and cities. Unlike Equestria, the zebra monarch was not immortal and had to be passed down by family and birth. And it seems that this opened a new topic of discussion. Interesting fact: while the princesses do not appear to age they actually do. Alicorns age extremely slowly and are not really immortal in any way. (That means if the bitch gets too high on her power trip I could cut her down. If I even get that close to her, alicorns are one of the most powerful magical creatures in this world. I was still rather pissed at my exile without an explanation. But I kept my mouth shut about the idea of killing Celestia. No point in scaring Zecora at the idea of murder, which is almost unheard of in this world. And I would not want to kill her for no good reason. Not to mention the consequences and implications that would arise from such an act.) The zebras had their own language which they called Zebrican, much like English is called Equestrian. The world’s most commonly known and spoken language was English to my luck.
I convinced her to not talk about me with any of her other friends, namely the pony kind. I did not want her to be in any kind of trouble because she decided to associate with me. She was not very happy with the idea of me having to hide when her friends come by and her keeping a secret about me at first, but I got her to promise me. She helped me make small garden near my hut for potatoes and some carrots. They won’t be ready for some time, but it will help with the future food necessity. This made me wonder about my future in this land. Will I live in this single place for the rest of my life or will I go somewhere, do something? I may not go to Equestria, but that does not mean that I cannot go anywhere else. There had to be other places with different towns and inhabitants. The griffins, dragons, zebras, donkeys, buffalo and anything else that is sentient had to have their own society and country. Those places that were not shown in the cartoon are what I focused on when considering what to do. As far I knew no other country or town except Ponyville knew about my existence. I could go anywhere and make up whatever I want when asked what and who I am. I would have to be quit and keep secret about my name and species if Celestia were to hear of it and ruin my travels. It was just an idea that began in the ending of my first moth in the new world. But time slowly past, a realization came that I could not stay in the forest forever. This world offers me a chance to explore and have adventure. I talked to Zecora about the idea of me traveling. She had mixed feelings regarding it because of all the things that could go wrong. In hindsight she was right about a lot of things. She was a zebra but still pony shaped and could pass by with her appearance. I however was too different to just be overlooked. I am furless bipedal creature, wearing full clothing, utilizing tool with clawless hands, as smart as any other sentient being and planning to travel the world with little to no knowledge about it.
What else is there for me to do? What accomplishments can I show from me being in this world? I knew I could not stay, not after all I went through. With determination I prepared myself to travel a world that was beyond different of my own. Zecora was saddened when I told her that I would be leaving, she understood that I had to do this for myself and offered to help me with any preparations that I would need. Away from her eyes, I made enough dried fish and cockatrice meat to last me two weeks if rationed properly. My positions were small in quantity and great in value. Clothes, weapons and, food were all I needed for this quest. I asked about a map of the world for my travels only to be answered that no maps were sold in Ponyville. Zecora suggested that she would go and ask for Twilight’s help knowing that the studious unicorn would have something to offer. I however told her not to bother because it would be too suspicious for her to ask for something like that out of nowhere. Within two days after my decision to leave I was ready to start my travels. Leaving my hut behind, I had everything that was useful and important for the future. All the items from my world, the sword, a bow with arrows, a makeshift backpack made from the hides of cockatrice, food and medicinal herbs, some rope that were given to me by Zecora and as parting gift a wooden drinking bottle with her tribal mark etched on it. She made this for me during the time I was preparing for the trip. (When I look back on it I can’t help but think how she could make something so complex with her hooves. My best answers to these kinds of questions were it’s a different reality, magic, shut up and just accept it before you lose your mind.) I felt somewhat bad because I had nothing good to give her in return. I know that she would not mind nor care if I did not have anything to give her, it just didn’t feel right to leave her with nothing. I decided to give her my old apartment keys and wallet. The keys in this world were ancient by modern day standards as they were all large and bulky which made mine look like some alien high tech. Zecora had a lock in her house that saw and tested to see how complex it is. It turns out I lock pick these easier than a closet door. Yes I lock pick too, the Anarchist Cookbook paid off. The wallet had some ID’s and three twenties. Makes me wish that I spent them on something useful before I came here and not like the ID’s have any importance anymore. I told her that they were not much of value to anyone in this world but they were a part of my life. It is easy to give off some deep meaning to even the most insignificant of things. She accepted them and told me that she holds my personal items in great value and will keep them safe for me should I ever want them back. With the exchange of gifts we embraced each other for the first time. I felt her fur as my hands held her while kneeling so she could return the gesture. Her fur felt real and the body was sturdier than that of a dog or anything else her size. I started off going into the deeper regions of the woods, past the lake of water which I marked as the point of where danger becomes more frequent. The light was bright in midday and made the path easily visible. Sometimes it got too bright for me to see. Thank god I had my sunglasses.
I look back on my first two months in this new world, it has been two days in my travels and I am still in the woods. Let’s see how far I can make it.
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
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The sunlight shining down makes me turn my face away from it. Ever so slowly and unwillingly I begin to wake up. Although I still had insomnia and it was some time before I fell to sleep, regardless to say it was the best sleep I had in a week hands down. Probably because it was on the ground where it was safe and not in a tree surrounded by a deadly forest. I actually like sleeping on hard surfaces, and I decided to just lay down where I came out of the forest yesterday. I must have overslept past sun rise, but I feel so rested. Right now I am in a really good mood because I don’t have any sleep deprived aches or stiffness in the joints. Standing up and stretching out my muscles, I take a look at my surroundings.
Green pastures as far as the eye can see, clear sky with not a single cloud. I was right about judging my surroundings last night, on the left of forest exit I can make out a long river that keeps going in the distance. Straight ahead in the distance there seems to be a small town or city. On the right there seems to go on further where I think a dessert with some mountains further on begins.
I’m not lost as far as my sense of direction goes. Having a clear mind I begin to rethink of what happened yesterday. I had good night’s rest compared to the whole week, I made it out of the forest alive (thank god) and in an adrenaline and fear mixed high I decided to go and kill a maticore. Uh huh. I am fucking moron. What the hell was I thinking?!! How I am still alive, I have no idea. I should have been dead the second I came near that thing. Ok alright I am alive, calm down. Seriously, do I have the most ridiculous luck or what?
I have to eat something otherwise I’ll be sluggish all day and won’t make it far. Can’t stay where I am otherwise some passerby’s might see me. I don’t know how far the knowledge about my existence was spread in Equestria. I can only hope that Celestia decided to cover it up and order silence to keep it a quit incident. Then again if she doesn’t want any of her subjects to be involved with me she wouldn’t stop the populace from thinking that the Everfree just got more dangerous. So I might as well go near the forest to eat and not be seen.
The edge of the forest provided enough cover to not be seen by anyone as I begin to make a fire for my food. Have not a seen or made a fire for nearly a whole week, it was nice to have something as simple as fire again without the concern of predators finding me or wasting too much time. I can’t really enjoy the fire as I once had in my own world. The fire looked drawn and plain with no remarkable details or the mysticism it once had, it was no longer beautiful to look at. Something as simple as the appearance of fire and it is one of the many things in this world that I to be deprived of.
After setting up a small pile of twigs and light it up using my zippo ,I started to go through my backpack. I still had the manticore meet from last night and the cockatrice hide bag had the meet protected from any bugs or the environment for the night. The meet was untreated and stank as day old exposed flesh would. Still good enough to eat I hope. Raw manticore meat on a stick slowly roasted in an open flame, glorious. It seemed so strange no matter how many times I have seen it. Imagine a cartoon image of a campfire with meat being cooked and yet smelling it like it was real. Now imagine having to eat and taste it, cartoon color appearance and all. The meat was actually pretty good. It did not have any particular taste as it can be compared to veal or a stake of some kind, which tastes like chicken. It would have been better with some condiments or maybe some kind of sauce.
That was the most satisfying meal that I had in long wile and with me not having to ration the water it was an awesome breakfast. I would not mind for a nice big hot cup of coffee to make this breakfast a lot better. I have one big piece of meat left that I could eat later. However the meat won’t last longer that two days so I will have to eat it within that time frame.
“I feel better already”
I stand up and begin to put out the flame with sand. I bury the ashes then place branches and leaves around to cover the scene. There is almost no chance that anyone would come even near here and think that some alien thing decided to make a rest stop here. I would rather not leave anything to chance, especially if anyone would be on to me. It seems paranoia has started to set in, although being in my position it is not that bad of a thing to have.
My main concern was to get through the forest and since that is done I can take my time while traveling. My mind wanders back to the manticore from yesterday. Not only did I kill a mythological monster, but I also ate it. How the hell does something like this even happen? Better yet, how do you even accept something like this as reality? I probably shouldn’t be talking about reality seeing as how I am in a fucking cartoon world. Reality is something that I have been lacking for about two in half moths. Regardless of how this all turned out I have to accept the situation for how it is and try to find a way to deal with it. At least now I don’t have to go through this again.
Suddenly, I came up with an idea. I should go back to the dead manticore and pull out its fang. At that point I can’t help but wonder if my brain has finally stop stopped working the way it should. I could use it as trade material or someone would want it. I really doubt that monster parts are common so someone would want it for some price. Or the worst case scenario it would be a nice memento to have around when and if asked about my travels and accomplishments. A nice manticore fang to prove that I killed one is some serious bragging rights.
Before heading off to the corpse, I decided to put my bag, bow and arrows near the forest edge so that if I had to run for some reason then my items won’t slow me down. Taking a light jog in the direction that I came from yesterday, it took me about five minutes to find the body. Even with cartoon blood it still looked and smelled bad. Its flesh was exposed with almost no skin or fur left, pieces of bone exposed with only the wings and tail not having any visible signs of damage. That is other than the damage that I have brought on. Taking a closer look I see that the body was eaten all around from different places. I guess that something followed the stench of blood and found a meal for itself. By the looks of things it was eaten by more than one creature, most likely timberwolfs. The head was left untouched from any bite marks and mouth was wide open with the fangs standing out. The eyes were milky white as though afflicted with cataract. Because it of the cartoon appearance this world has, I can make out facial expressions that in my reality would be impossible. The expression on its face was that of fear and pain.
No point in wasting time, I take out my multi tool and set up the pliers. After two minutes of pulling and tugging, I manage to take out two of its massive front fangs. Both were large enough to take up space of my whole palm, way bigger than a natural lions fangs. Placing the fangs in my jackets inside pocket, I turn back to the direction of the forests edge.
The river was not too wide as there was a small bridge way further down. The river seemed to come from the forest. I originally wanted to goes through the forest by walking alongside it. However, Zecora had informed me that following the river would take me longer to get out from it. Being a source of water would mean that other animals would use it, which included dangerous and strange creatures that I would want to avoid. That and Zecora did not really know which direction of the river to follow that would lead out of the forest and not into Ponyville or some other place. Trying to follow one side would take too long and I did want to waste too much time. The heat is not as bad as it was in the forest however my clothes don’t exactly help in staying cooled.
After wetting my hair to cool down and refilling the water bottle I set to go near the river onward. I walk so that I was not too far from the river’s edge. Not too close so that if anyone would come near I could still hide in the grass and not too far so that I could follow the path. I couldn’t help but think about my reflection as I refilled the bottle. It was a normal reflection in cartoon drawn water. It looked like a bad attempt at Photoshop. The reflection did not show me anything that I didn’t already know. My hair always long and wavy, the clothes somewhat dirty and my beard and mustache made me look like Jesus. A vary ragged, young and armed Jesus or maybe a cool hobo. I couldn’t really see my eyes, but I know that they probably look horrible. I take good care of myself in regards to hygiene. Always washing, shaving and showering. I haven’t been able to properly clean myself for about two weeks now. The only time that I did get to wash my hair was using a bucket with water in Zecoras home with green plant paste as soap. The paste was meant for furs and manes, not hair. Because my hair was thick enough, I was able to get it more or less cleaned. That was about two weeks ago. I can’t shave with any of my knife because how do you shave without some kind of foam and not cut yourself? I could try to depilate my beard and mustache using the pliers. Only it hurts like a bitch and I would have to pull out every single hair individually. That’s not going to happen any time soon. I know that I look like a mess except that I don’t really care right now. If my parents were to see me now… I don’t even want to think about what would happen.
As I get near the bridge, I also get closer to the city. Zecora had told me about the first city that I would come across when exiting the forest. It was called Dodge City (finally a name with no pun) and it had a western feel to it. I need to avoid the city and any of its inhabitants. There is a log road that goes from the bridge to the city. No one should be able to see me near the river so I was safe from being noticed. On the edge of the city I can make out some barns and old fashion fences. As I keep getting closer to the bridge I notice some cows were behind the fences. I remember from one of the shows episodes that cows were intelligent and they could speak. A sentient species and yet they live in farms and milked like normal cows. Did they choose this life where all their needs are met at the cost of them being milked and some other labor? Or was there no other choice for them? They seem happy and they weren’t forced into servitude or slavery as far as I know, then again what the hell do I know? I got thrown out of a kingdom that was literally made to be the most peaceful and nicest place on the first day. Maybe it’s a matter of preference or maybe I am just over thinking things.
Continuing onward past the bridge, I keep going along the path of the river. Further on there is a splitting where the river goes in to two directions. Zecora had told me to follow the river to where it splits and then go straight to where the river comes from. I was a good far distance away from the city, however I felt uncomfortable to be near any populated place right now. All it would take was for some douchebag to see me and report it to the bitch in the high castle for me to get screwed, again. What the hell was so interesting about the show anyway? It was a kid’s show for Christ’s sake! The animation was simple and somewhat entertaining and the plot of the story wasn’t all that bad. I was so fucking bored that my books stopped being interesting, all my xbox games got boring, the movies nowadays are just bad remakes and CGI explosion bullshit. My friends all lived far away so we had to take transportation so we could meet up on the weekends. And even then we had nothing to do because we already did pretty much everything there is to do in Brooklyn. Life was literally boring me to death, I was (and probably still am) in a massive depression and I have severe anger issues where everything just pisses me off. God I hate my life. Now I am forced to hide from extremely colored, dog sized, talking magical ponies. That is so embarrassing now that I think about it. I think the universe hates me.
In a city I could scavenge many things and resources that would be useful for me. The things you could find in alleys really would surprise anyone. With my survivalist obsession it would be like a gold mine for me. However this is not a normal city and would probably not have anything of value to me. Ponies don’t have mass produced goods that can be cheaply replaced. And I doubt that clothe or metals would be wasted that much. Not to mention the whole I can’t be seen and found out "or else" issue.
I can make out some houses in the far distance as I walk by the river, but I don’t see any of the inhabitants. What kind of lives do they live? The show only focused on the main six characters and everything else from the show is left to assumptions, observations and guesses. What are their lives like behind closed doors? How is life with magic and multiple sentient species different from my world? How much of a difference do their talents make in the world’s job markets? What is the rate of unemployment if any? How much does race have importance in their society? Are they affected by worry and stress as humans are? Is there more responsibility per individual or less? If the stress gets to some of them, how do they deal with it? Do some of them drink their problems away? Does family or any kind of abuse exist in this world?
The episode with the diamond dogs proves that slavery exists in some form. Could more violent crimes be happening in this world and no one knows about it? Zecora painted a nice picture of this world; however I can’t help but think how much of it is true. Maybe she never saw or heard of such things and she doesn’t really know. The princesses are very old and most likely as wise, so they have to know of such things. You don’t get to live some thousands of years and not learn of life’s misery and horrors.
Do the princesses keep these things quit from their subjects so that they could have some delusion of a grand peaceful and innocent society? No, it can’t be that, nobody can be that ignorant right? Twilight is too smart to miss something like this. Then again she did blindly follow her mentor’s orders without question in regards to me. That was an extreme change in hers and the others character. Applejack was supposedly a lie detector and yet my words of self defense had fallen on deaf ears. Even Fluttershy was no different when it came to me being kicked out into the forest. So I may be right on the theory of the world’s true state being hidden from ponies. I am going to have to look into this later. I have so many questions and no one to answer them. Zecora was helpful with some of them, but limited by only what she knows. Pony society is not her best subject, but she did give me more or less of an idea of how things work around here.
It started to get late as sun set begins. The river goes on between two woods on opposite sides. As I walk forward my body begins to feel lethargic. I feel a slowly growing pressure in my stomach. It was the starting signs of a stomachache. I don’t have to be smart to know the reason behind that. The lacking nutrition, eating a strange creature’s meat, drinking water from a fresh water river and walking for hours nonstop was bound to end up with me feeling somewhat bad. Maybe the manticore meat is poisonous or maybe the water was infested with something. In the first few weeks I came to realization that this world has who knows what strange new diseases and afflictions that could kill me. I lived off the land for two months and as far as I know I am not sick with anything (I hope). I didn’t have stomach pain the whole time I was here and Zecora didn’t give me anything for them. Great, now I am going to have to ride it out.
“I feel like shit”
The forest was not like the Everfree. It was a lot brighter and it didn’t have that ominous appearance that the other forest had. The trees weren’t made out to look bad or scary or whatever. The sun had set and darkness was slowly taking over. I can’t go on much further with my body feeling sluggish and the pain in the stomach. I went past the edge of the forest to lessen the chance of being found. This was not the Everfree so the ponies were not afraid to go in here. That means that there shouldn’t be any dangerous animals or predators for me to avoid. This is good because I can’t fight in this condition and sleeping in a tree is hard when I have to climb it first.
Going for as far as I can I finally settle down not too far from the river. Near a tree so it would provide some cover from any possible ponies on the ground or in the air. It’s good to lie down after a whole day of walking. The pain is slightly lifted but showed no signs of stopping. I obviously felt worst things than that, everyone did and does. I learned a long time ago how to completely ignore the unwanted feelings. In a way, I welcome the pain. Pain is one of the only ways I have left to feel like I am live and not in some delusion state. To feel it is to know that what is happening to me is real and that I am not losing my mind, yet.
Looking up in the sky I see the stars, the moon covered by some leaves. This world can’t even get the color of the night sky right. The stars look like a drawing that I could almost reach out and touch. Better than nothing I guess. At least drawings have their own appeal to it. The images and drawings that I have seen throughout my life are often more beautiful than the real life counterpart. There is a reason why people look better in portraits and manga drawings. They are designed to look beautiful and almost flawless. Although right now I would prefer the flawed night sky from my world.
There I am on the ground, staying awake due to insomnia again, holding my pendent like before and thinking. I wish I had my iphone working would so I could listen to something. Some music would really be nice when walking all day. I don’t care if it’s one song, I’ll take anything at this point. Wait, does this world have those singing moments like in the show? I mean do they really just get into a song without any practice and music coming from nowhere? Or is just something that the creators had put in to make it more kid appealing? Imagine singing a tune and hearing music that goes with it out of nowhere. Something like this would make life interesting for some and unbearable for others. The type of music they sing is not my taste, so I would be really annoyed by it. In fact, if I really get pissed off by it I can see myself going on a killing spree just to end it. Now I really do hope that there is no spontaneous singing.
I don’t know how or when I fell asleep with the pain and all, but I woke up feeling better. Might as well finish the manticore meat I have left. I am guessing that pain was from me having eaten a large breakfast after some days of eating very little. Malnutrition and eating only once or twice a day can bring health problems. If the meat was poisonous and I didn’t die than my body can handle it. All that and I really didn’t want to waste any food.
Setting up a nice small fire I start heating up the meat. It didn’t take too long before it was ready to eat. This would go really well with some barbeque sauce or any other sauce for that matter. Regardless, it was a good breakfast and I have run out of meat. At least in this forest food should be easier to find. Putting out the fire and hiding any evidence of my presence, I set of along sides the river once again. The sun was shaded for me so I didn’t need to put my sunglasses on.
The river was getting shallow enough for me to cross it with the water slight reaching past my ankles. Taking of my shoes and socks, I try to roll up my pants as much as I can and cross the river. I don’t want to walk around with wet shoes and socks. And I am definitely not going to take of my pants to cross it either. That is just begging for some awkward or weird situation to happen, it would be a fucking cliché too. My feet were greeted with a cooling sensation as I move them into the water. It felt exactly like real water would and it was refreshing. Being in the forest for so long didn’t give much of an opportunity to wash myself and my clothes. Not taking of my socks for so long or even washing them has left them in a horrible and smelling sate. In the Everfree I tried to clean my clothes as much as I could. Not having soap made it difficult to keep my clothes clean. Thankfully Zecora was more than willing to share some soap, probably because she couldn’t stand the smell herself. The socks looked like they will get ripped soon and I don’t have any replacements. I can’t really make any from leather because that would just be impractical. At least my feet won’t smell as bad now.
I close my eyes while standing in the river. I did that many times since I got here, closing my eyes and letting all my other senses to take over. If I don’t see anything, I can almost imagine that I am in my world in some forest. The sounds of birds are the same as they would be from home, the feeling of the wind through my hair and in my face was calming, the water surrounding my feet flowing calmingly. I always did prefer nature over big cities. The simple and relaxing surroundings bring out a natural sensation of peace from within some ancient part of my mind. Moving my head up I look up at the sun, it is bright but I can still make it out as fake. That ended my little moment of peace. After crossing the river I decided to go barefoot for a short time while my feet completely dry. It didn’t take long before I put on my socks and shoes again.
The forest edge provided enough cover from the sky to prevent me from being seen by anything in the sky. I didn’t need to be concerned with being seen so I traveled a good distance for some time without having to look over my shoulder. I decided on a light jog to change my mood and o get more distance covered. I always did like to run for exercise. My speed was slower than what it once was. Two months of limiting exercise, lacking of proper nutrition and sleep issues has made me really weak. I can only imagine how badly I would get my ass kicked if I were to get into a real fight.
The weight of my items weren’t too bothersome as I sprint forward and avoid any obstacles. I remember when I used to go out to just run in the evenings for the hell of it. I used to practice free running whenever I could, but Brooklyn didn’t really have that much obstacles to play around with so it was just me running and jumping. I wanted to have some company with me during those sessions, but most of my friends didn’t like the idea of running.
Most of my friends were lazy so I was more fit then they were. Then again they were way smarter than I was when it came to school. Associate yourself with smart people and some of that intellect will start to rub off on you. But they were more interested in things like video games and table top board games. Even their choices of card game weren’t that respectable seeing as how they played yugioh and magic the gathering. I have no issues with that, it’s just that it gets boring after a while. Sometimes we do go out to do more interesting things like kayaking in the Manhattan ports. Except some of them don’t like the exercise of it and whine the whole time.
College gave me a chance to meet new people. Some were really interesting seeing as how they liked to fight and learn new techniques. Thanks to them I picked up some interesting new things that were really useful and fun. This one guy showed me some cool Muay Thai moves. And this other one was a survivalist who was involved with gangsters and did drug runs and stuff like that. At first I didn’t really believe him because who would openly say that he does these things. That is until he flashed a roll of hundreds and showed me some of his disarming techniques. Now those guys were fucking awesome.
The jog was all I need to make myself feel better. The small exercise made me sweat which made my shirt stick to my skin like a wet paper towel. Having one set of clothes is not good. I don’t have to carry a lot of things, but having clothes to change would be nice when something is dirty or ruined. My clothes were better suited for winter so I will be fine more or less for the next changing seasons. Unless shit happens and I can’t help but predict that it most likely will. I hope to get out of Equestria before anything does happen.
In the distance I notice buildings that can be seen through the woods. I have gotten closer to the edge of the forest and found another open clearing of green pastures. There are train tracks that lead to a small city ahead. The river continued on near the city, and to further on I can see a port with ships and the ocean. Weeks ago I asked how Zecora got to Equestria. She took a boat to a city and walked all the way to her new home. She told me about how the city was called Baltimare (damn puns) and was a port settlement that grew from the commerce that it brought. The port had ships coming and going so travel was not difficult, for her. Now I am going to have to think of a way to make this work. My plan seemed easy when I first came up with it: Leave the forest, reach a port and hitch a ride to anywhere out of Equestria.
I am now so close to getting the hell out of this place that I am almost tempted to smile for once. Almost.
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
While standing in the forests edge I look onward at the port, some typical buildings that are used for storage and the two ships that are docked there. I can see moving shapes of ponies and gryphon’s working by moving crates and barrels. There is clear path through the pastures for me to walk from the forest all the way there without actually going into the city. The pastures were exposed without any trees or covers for me to use. I already know that I can’t avoid being seen, but at least I can more or less hide what I am. Covering my face using my scarf and sunglasses to hide my face completely, I put on my jacket with the hood on and slowly start walking forward.
I am too far away to be noticed, so can think about what I can do and say to gain passage on a ship. I have no doubt that my appearance would be suspicious if not frightening. Anyone in their right mind would be careful around a stranger covered in clothes, looking like he went through hell with a bow, some arrows and a sword. Not to mention that I am technically an alien to them. The ponies that I first met were not really scared as they were more curious and cautious. Most staid a safe distance away from me while some actually ran in to their homes. I can’t really blame them for their reactions, after all to them I was a tall unknown being. By human standards I was not frightening or imposing in any way. My height is five feet and seven inches, everyone in my family look younger. So people sometimes confuse me for different ages. Last time I was mistaken for between a sixteen and twenty year old. My voice tone makes me sound young, so sometimes I slightly deepen my voice to make myself sound older to make some people take me seriously. I may not look like much, but I can definitely take care of myself in a fight.
Regardless of my appearance, I am covered enough for those who see me to possibly confuse me for some other species. My hands are not as long as that of the diamond dogs, I don’t walk hunched forward, I don’t have any fur and nor do I have a snout. Or at least that’s how I think they look based from what I have seen in the cartoon. Everything else seems to look exactly like from the show so maybe the diamond dogs would look the same her too. Besides a minotaur, I don’t know of any other bipedal sentient species. Still, I won’t be able to fool anyone for long if at all. As long as I don’t make any trouble or gain any unwanted attention than maybe I can get a ride on one of the ships. I just hope that they don’t act upon first impressions and call out some guards or I am going to have to run, hide and or possibly fight.
Some strands of my long hair stick out of the hood and flow in the air. Having long hair makes it hard to deal with it when there is a wind going. When I first woke up in this world I only had one hair rubber band on me. It broke in three weeks after constant retying whenever my hair slips out or the band gets slack. I can’t tie my hair using anything else as it always gets untied later. And I don’t like to make my hair into a braid as it gets uncomfortable whenever I try to sleep. I hate cutting my hair so I left it how it is, flowing in the air and sometimes getting in to my eyes and face. I can only imagine how I look with those loose strands of hair flowing out of the hood.
I notice how the grassy ground is slowly replaced by dirt and eventually by concrete as I get closer to one of the storage buildings. The buildings are about two or three floors high, each was the same grayish white color with brown roofs and they were all in a row with the entrances facing the sea. They are in a line that leads all the way to the city. Around them were small houses, exactly what you would expect to find near a port. I can make out places that look like small inns, bars and health clinics. There were alleys between each building that were occupied by various crates, garbage cans and trash. I took the more straight forward direction that would let me get to a ship faster, but leaves me more visible for anyone to see. I could have gone to one of the ships at night and be less seen, however I really want to get out of here and I doubt my appearance would be any more welcoming at night than it would be at day time.
The first one to notice me was brown unicorn near the edge of the dock. By the facial characteristics and physical build I could tell that it was a he. He was near some crates and appeared to be in the process of moving them when he noticed me. I can’t really tell what that look is called, the one where their eyes are open but not comically wide and the mouth is just closed. It was neutral with no indication of any emotion, like you would see on an observer. I kept my eyes focused on the ship and let my peripheral vision look at my surroundings. Some other ponies and griffon’s begin to take notice of me as I get closer to the ship. The feeling that I have right now can be best compared to that of someone being lost in a foreign city and surrounded by strangers who did not speak the same language or that of being a little kid and being separated from your family in a big place like Manhattan. The fact that I am being watched by everyone (or everything to be more precise) doesn’t make me feel any better if not worse. I remember kindergarten, when I was in a play and had to recite lines for a large crowd. This was a European kindergarten so the crowds were as large as the ones you would see in a high school graduation. Some kids were fine, some cried and some pissed themselves on the stage. I was one of those who were able to get through it with stuttering and mistakes. The feeling of being seen and judged by others is almost the same right now. Except that these weren’t people in the human sense. They were cartoon characters, drawings that I could just dismiss in my head as not real and not care for whatever looks I get. So the effect was more of me having paranoia and being ready for almost anything. Obviously I was nervous, however I kept my cool as I walk up to one of the ship’s entrance.
No one stopped me as I walked up the sturdy flat plank going up to the ship with knotted rails on both sides of it for support. On the top near the entrance there was an earth pony sitting at a small table and reading a magazine of some kind. The pony was a male with a dark green coat and a yellow mane. He kept reading his magazine (probably this world’s version of playboy) without noticing me as I walked up to him. No point in dragging this out.
“Excuse me. Where can I find the captain of this ship?”
“He’s not here. He’ll be back later. ” He spoke with an accent that I can’t really identify but I definitely heard it back on earth. He didn’t even look up at me as he said it. It does make asking questions easier if he is not freaking out on me.
“When will this ship set sail?”
“Two days tomorrow, we’re having time off” Again he answers without looking up at me.
I really don’t want to spend any more time here then I have to, two days would be too much. Maybe the other ship will be leaving sooner. I turn around and start walking back.
“Thank you for your time.”
“You’re well…come… ” How stereotypical, the pause in between a word to express shock. This is like the biggest cliché in every kind of show. I keep walking down without changing my pace and turn left as I leave the ship. Without looking up I can see in my peripheral that the pony was looking down at me confused before shaking his head rapidly before turning back to his magazine. At least the responses are as typical as the situation, the guy will most likely mention what happened it to a buddy or the captain.
As I walk to the next ship, the glances in my direction followed. There were more griffons near the next ship with only one pony lifting a crate and going to the nearest storage building. The looks they give me resemble that of curiosity. As I pass some crates and come up to the plank, I again start walking up the plank entrance to the ship. At the top near the entrance edge I see that there is a griffon standing up with his claws over the wooden rail looking at me. Looking and comparing the griffons that I have seen in this world and from the show I find that distinguishing genders is rather easy. The males have bigger beaks, slightly bulkier builds than the females and the animation style makes it easy to distinguish gender facial characteristics. I stop near the entrance and I notice that I was taller but that is probably because he was leaning on the rail, he lifted his head to look at me. I look him in the eyes and start to talk.
“I am looking for the captain of this ship. Is he here?”
The griffin is looking at me with wide eyes as though he did not expect me to talk. His eyes quickly looked over me and stopped at my bow and sword, his irises turned to pinpricks. Oh great, beginning signs of a freak out. Having weapons on me may not be a good idea when trying to communicate in a peaceful manner. However, I am not going into some situation that I don’t even know how it will end up without some means of defense. That and I am seriously paranoid right now. The griffin blinked once before opening his mouth.
“Uhmm yes…Yes! He’s here. What do you want?” He responded first in a surprised manner and then tried to make himself sound tough. His voice told me that he was maybe around my age and that he was really nervous. I can’t have the guy freak out on me now, not when this could be my best chance out of here.
“I would like to talk to him.”
“About what?” He asked too quickly, probably so curious that he forgot to whom (or rather what) he is talking to. I can’t waste time in dealing with him.
“That does not concern you. Lead me to him… would you kindly?” I made my tone of voice deeper to make me sound irritated and less patient but not aggressive. I really can’t afford to fuck anything up.
“Oh, uhm ok. F-follow me.” His eyes slightly widened with a nervous look. He took his claws off the rail and put them on the floor, now standing on all fours. He turned and motioned for me to follow him.
Some of the griffon’s further away on the deck were looking at the scene with curious expressions, I made sure to keep them in my line of sight in case shit goes down. As we were going to the ships cabin, I notice just how different this ship really is. It was relatively longer and taller than the regular old fashion ships. It was dark brown and made out of wood with metal pieces on the sides and some on the inside, logic says this thing should be sinking due to the weight alone. The deck seemed longer than that of regular ships and its sail masts looked like they can be retracted inside the ship. There was a sharp outline on the deck floor with hinges next to the rails that tell me that it can open outward like some door or something. There were some pipes leading from the floor near the walls and rails with what looked like clockwork mechanical peaces sticking out near some corners. Not very practical to have moving peaces exposed, it’s as if it made to look like something out of a fantasy. Oh that’s right I forgot where I was, so logic and practicality be damned.
As we got closer to the cabin door I noticed the steering wheel on top. Near it were three levers sticking out of the floor. One of them was probably to open that big hatch on the deck and the others something else that I don’t know. The gryphon leading me opened the cabin’s door and walked in with me after him. We were in a short corridor with three doors in respective sides and a staircase that was on the side that lead down. We went to the last door facing the entrance, it was light red while the other doors were the same brown color as the ship. The griff knocked on the door three times.
“Come in.” The voice was calm with a hint of authority in the tone.
“Sir, there’s some… thing here that wants to talk to you.” The griff said as he opened the door.
The room was like what you would expect the captain’s room to look like, the same thing like what they showed in the pyrite movies (except there is no dark gloomy atmosphere and everything is a god damned drawing). It was a big room with it has dark yellow wallpaper that has some designed patterns, a dark red carpet that covered the whole room and a giant window at the opposite wall facing the door. The entire left wall of the room was occupied by filing cabinets while the other side had what looked like a liquor cabinet near the window, some large plant next to it and a closed door (most likely the private quarters.) In the center there are some simple looking chairs for guests and a big table facing the door. At the table there is a seated griffon that was looking over a pile of papers that covered the entire surface with a quill in his right claw. The griffon was a light shade of grey, yellow eyes and had his head feathers styled back like it was hair. Seriously, how the hell do they do that?
“What?” The gryphon asked as he looked up. He looked right at me and his eyes widened in shock and then confusion. Those looks are seriously starting to get annoying, well at least it is not fear on his face. He then turned to the griff next to me.
“This… I don’t know what, wanted to talk to you sir.” The captain looked from the guy and then back to me again. His eyes looked me over and rested on the bow across my shoulder and then at the sword at my left side. This might get ugly soon.
“Alright, I am Gazer the captain of the Blue Wing. What is your business?” He regained his composure and had a serious look about him.
Gazer? Blue Wing? Wow this is not even funny, it is really sad how this world is lacking any originality. Gazer is a name you would give to a peeping tom, hell at this rate I am willing to bet that there is a name like peeping tom out there somewhere in this world. Blue Wing, the ship is brown and the color blue is way overused in expressing something to do with the ocean. I was almost thinking that he would have a stereotypical nautical accent.
“I would like to discuss something if you have the time sir.” I usually go by the rule of respect being earned and not given. However seeing as how I don’t have many options, showing some respect for the guy that can get me out of here is a good idea.
“I have some time, what is it?”
“In private If possible.” I turned my head to the guy that lead me.
The captain nodded his head to the guy and the griffin turned away looking at me until the door closed.
“Now what did you want to talk about?”
“I would like to have passage on your ship out of Equestria.” This caused a raised eyebrow.
“This is a trading ship, not a passenger cruise liner. There are other ships that you can buy a ticket for cheap here.”
“I don’t have any money to spend. I want to work in exchange for my trip.” Gazer has a look of surprise on his face. Granted it is not my best plan, but is the best one I have got. I can’t get any money unless I go to a city or some populated area without the risk of being found or caught. Working for my keep on the ship is all I could offer. My possessions are worthless for selling to anyone and are only useful to me.
“Look I can’t hire you. I have no money left in the budget to hire another worker and-“
“You misunderstand me. I do not want you to hire me, I want to leave Equestria on your ship while I work on it as payment. You give me passage and I work for you, for free.” Was I not clear or did he not get the offer?
“But working for nothing isn’t fair for you. I can’t just let you work for me and not get paid, the unions would have my tail feather for it.” What the fuck is this guy talking about? He could make work the hardest through the whole time that I would be on this ship and all he cares is that it would be unfair for me? Fine, whatever just get me out of here.
“Sir, I find it very fair. I don’t really need money and all I want is to travel with you out of here. I don’t need any lodging and I don’t eat that much. As far as you getting into trouble with unions, I won’t talk and you don’t have to say anything.”
“It don’t feel right. I would be taking advantage of you and it just wrong.”
“It is not wrong. You would be helping me out here and I would be repaying my debt.” Now a little well placed hint of desperation in my voice. “I have no one else to turn to.”
“Well…Oh fine. Ok, you can travel with us.” Huh, that was easier than I thought it would be. “Wait, do you even know where this ship is going?” Captain Gazer started opening the table drawers and pulling out a small sheet of paper.
“Honestly, anywhere is fine with me as long as it is not in Equestria. When are we sailing?” He began to write something down with the quill still in his claw.
“We are setting sail to Avias city tonight” Was that a bird pun?
Alright! I get to leave this shit hole tonight! How convenient, a little too convenient. My paranoia is starting to act up again.
“That is fine with me.” He finished writing and then looked up at me.
“What is your name?”
When I first came to Ponyville, the ponies have found my name to be strange and weird. My name is not all that common and I only gave them my first name and I can imagine the whole alien thing going if they knew my last name. I find it funny that they think my name is weird because their names are just two regular words put together in an unoriginal manner. Was I the only one who noticed this? Did their parents just wake up one day and decide to name their child Twilight Sparkle or Rainbow Dash or some other shit? Applejack, Big Mac, Granny Smith and Pony Joe have regular names in there and nobody seems to either notice or care. Even Zecora (a rather good name in my opinion) had thought my name to be too different to not be noticed. With the princess and all of Ponyville knowing my real name I can’t use it without the risk if it being somehow heard by any of them. The chances of my name somehow reaching them are small, but I am too paranoid to let even a small chance screw up my plans. So any name I pick I would have to change it later when I go to any other place that has not seen or heard of me. I would have to use some made up name or alias. That was something I thought through the whole first week when I left. I could use any cool anime name or something from an awesome video game. But then I would feel like a douchebag because that is what anyone else would do in this situation. Seriously, everyone would pick a name that sounds cool (technically I can do that because there is nobody around to judge me for it). Although because most of the cool names would probably also be strange for this world, I would have to use either simple names or my imagination. I came up with a list of some really awesome ones, but I kind of don’t want waist one for a freaking trip.
“My name is … Traveler” Ugh I suck, whatever. This is a onetime use anyway so who cares if this name sounds like someone made it up on the spot (which I technically did.)
“…That’s not a real name” Oh here we go.
“Says who Captain GAZER?” He lifted one finger/claw and opened his mouth like he was about to talk. Only he didn’t and now he has a look like he is thinking.
“Ok fine, fair enough” He shrugged and wrote something down on the paper again. Then he handed it to me. “Keep this with you, it’s your working paper and it will allow you to come back onto the ship if you get off of it.” Working paper? Must be this world’s version of a permit or document and why would I want to get off the ship? Unless he wants me to carry crates or some other work that would require me to get off the ship.
“Also you can’t bring your weapons aboard this ship.” Now I have a problem. I can live without the bow, but I need the sword. Zecora said that there still is some form of conflict in this world. There is no way in hell that I would go anywhere on this freaking toon world without a weapon. I have my knives but those can only go so far.
“I need my weapons.”
“I can’t have weapons on my ship. Why would you even need weapons these days?”
“These weapons have kept me alive for the past two weeks. I will need them for where I am going if I am to survive.” Half truths for both, but the captain doesn’t need to know that. Honestly, I don’t know what is out there. Maybe I will need it and maybe I won’t. I would rather not need it and have it then need it and not have it.
“You needed weapons in THE safest kingdom of the entire world?” The captain had one raised eyebrow as he asked. “I find that rather hard to believe. I know that there’s some places that need you to have a weapon to protect yourself, but not where we’re going."
“Sir, I only need my sword. It is important to me.” I was having a hard time keeping my voice in the same tone. The Captain looked like he was thinking hard again.
“Ughhh. I will allow ONLY the sword, but it has to stay hidden with me the whole time until we reach Avias. Is that clear?” Wow, two in a row. I am on winning streak today.
“Yes sir, thank you.” I untied the sword from my belt and handed it carefully to him. The sheath made out of cockatrice hide and the old rusting hilt made the sword look less of a weapon and more of an antique.
The captain looked it over before taking a dark green sheet of fabric from underneath the table (why does he have fabric underneath his table, did he prepare for this or something?) and carefully wrapping the sword around it before leaning it on the right side of the table.
“Ok, now that that’s out of the way. You should go and get a shower, because frankly ‘sniff’ you smell bad.” Ok he got me there, I can’t even blame him. After not bathing or changing my clothes for so long, I reek.
“Where would I go for that?” Taking a bath in the pear does not sound appealing to me in any way. I have at least some dignity left.
“There’s a bath house near here that you can go to.”
“I have no money if you can recall.” How the hell do you forget something important like that when it was said less than a minute ago?
The captain went through one drawer again, taking out a small red bag and then tossing it to me. I already had an idea what was inside, when I caught it and heard and sound it made it was confirmed. This guy just gave me a small bag of money or bits as they call them here.
“Sir, I can’t take this. It’s-“
“I can’t have you working here and smelling like that for the whole trip. Besides, it’s spending change and it’s the least I can give you for not getting paid.” Well I really do need a bath and if this guy is paying then why not.
“Alright, however I do not know where the bath house is.” This is weird. Things are going for my benefit a little too easy.
“Ask the one that lead you here to walk with you. Show him the paper so he knows you’re with us.” And with that he went back to his papers.
“Thank you. I will see you later than, sir.” He nodded his head without looking up as I turned to the door.
Leaving the cabin, I see the griffin that I first met leaning on the same spot as before. He does not hear me as I walk up to him.
“Excuse me.” The griff flinched before turning around to face me. I took out the paper and handed it to him. He looked it over it before facing me with an uncertain look on his face.
“So you’re going to be working with us then huh?” He didn’t sound as nervous as before, but he was still visibly not used to me. He handed me the paper back and I pocketed it.
“Yes, the captain said I should ask you to walk me to the bath house near here.”
“ ‘Sigh’ Let’s go” He said as he got down on all fours again and turned to the entrance.
“Hold on.” I took of the bow and snapped it with my leg in half. The sound made the griff turn to me quickly with a surprised expression. I untied the fishing line from both ends quickly and put it in my pocket. I took out my remaining arrows along the two pieces of the broken bow and threw them over the ships edge in to the water. I put my hands in my pockets and turn to the griff. “Ok, let’s go.”
The griff still had the dumb look on his face before he shrugged and stared walking down the entrance. I followed him down unto the pear and into the street. I couldn’t tell the time but I could guess that it was probably around one. There were some ponies and griffins both on the street and in the air. I am glad that the street was not as full as it was in Ponyville. If those ponies had not made some space for me to walk I would have had to push through them. For a small town they were really packed, although when I walked through it the first time I realized that it was way bigger than the show made it out to be with those cut scenes.
Some of the residents were looking at me as I walked through the street. I have noticed that the looks were of curiosity and not of caution or fear, probably because they can’t see my face. The bag of bits the captain gave me had weighted down my left pocket slightly. As far as I know this whole world use coins as their currency, it is like the old child view of how money works in the world. The ponies and probably every other sentient creature would think that humans are insane if they find out that our currency was paper printed bills. The paper bills were supposed to represent their value in gold so that we didn’t have to carry all of it and that the exchange of it would be easier. But you can’t even use gold as currency in modern day. Nobody goes to the supermarket and hands in pure gold when they try to buy something. Then there are credit cards that basically use money transfer as a means of purchase and payment. I can see why this would seem stupid in some way, but I guess that is what happens when society advances. In the future paper bills will most likely be out of circulation permanently and it will all be done electronically like now.
Here things seem to cost less or maybe more now when I think about it. The episodes where Applejack was selling an apple for like three bits seem way too high. If it were per weight or something then it would be better. But there was the episode where Fluttershy went to the market to buy groceries and Pinkie was bargaining with the stand owner. Even the ponies are cheating assholes when it comes to money, big surprise. I have realized a long time ago that I will most likely never use any of this world’s money. What the hell would I even want to buy? This world is decades if not centuries behind on anything interesting to sell. Other than clothes, I don’t really have any major concern for money. Food I can hunt and scavenge in the wilderness, tools and weapons I can make (not very good ones but they can get the job done.)
The paper in my right pocket brushed my fingers as I walk, I haven’t even looked at it when the captain gave it to me. Taking it out and looking at it, I am not surprised that I can’t read it. Most of the words were written in a language that I never saw before. No wait, I did see something like this before. From the episode with the sisterhood social that had the flyer advertising the event. The symbols resemble letters, some even looked like Russian. Except that none of the letters or words were in Russian because then I could have read it. Some of the words on the paper were in English, but the letters were written either upside down or backwards like in that newspaper reporter episode. So it was a combination of words written in an unknown language with some English, which makes no fucking sense at all. The episode with the parasprites had a welcome banner for the bitch with sun tattoo on her ass written in English. Zecora had some books in her home that she let me read, it was the same issue. When I asked her about it she had no idea what I was talking about, it was as if she did not see any contradicting language or words in the book. Maybe it is something that only humans can notice, some kind of association or attempted translation into a language that I could understand. Same thing with the books that were in Zebrican, the language was visibly different from equestrian with only some letters that were in English. I tried to learn how to read equestrian, but Zecora had work and did not have much free time except in the evenings. Maybe latter I will ask someone to teach me.
“Soo… Traveler? Where do you come from?” So his curiosity perks up again with an attempt at conversation. I don’t feel like talking anymore after the longest exchange of words I had in the whole week.
“Far away lands that you have not heard of.” Technically that was not a lie.
“Oh, uhm what exactly are you? I-if you don’t mind me asking.” That last part was said rather quickly. Hesitant, probably doesn’t want to offend me.
“Dovahkiin.” Damn it! I never even got to play Skyrim. That just sucks. And now I feel like a douchebag for using that.
“Dova… kin? Never heard of you’re kind before.”
“Far away lands that you have not heard of.” I deadpanned.
“…right.”
We came to a stop near a white building that had an image of a bathtub etched into a wooden board and hanging to the side from the wall. The whole walk took about one minute and was really close to the ship. Walking inside a bell rang from the top of the door, I noticed that the interior was covered in tiles, a brown rug and a large counter on the left of the entrance. Behind the counter sits a single old looking dark blue unicorn mare. Her hair (or is it a mane? who cares) was red orange with streaks of grey hair to emphasize her age, it is styled back in a loose fashion almost like mine except my hair is longer. Her eyes were light brown with wrinkles forming around them. I can’t really tell cartoon ages but I would guess around forty or maybe more. She saw us come in and took noticed of me right away. She looked somewhat confused, but she shook her head rapidly and smiled up at us.
“Welcome to the Bath Wash Bay! How may I help you today?” That sounded like it was rehearsed. Her voice was light yet firm, like that of an old teacher who knows how to deal with children.
“I would like to take a shower.” Might as well get this over with it and I really do need a shower.
“ ‘sniff’ yea, you could sure use one.” Smartass griffin. He can’t see my face due to scarf and sunglasses, however if he could then he would see me giving him a rather annoyed look. (I know that I stink, I don’t need any more reminders.) Somehow he must have felt what I was thinking at the moment because he had a nervous look as he made the stereotypical gulp when someone thinks they got in trouble.
“I-I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later, bye!” He just ran off as if I was about hit him or something. Whatever, not like I need him anymore.
“Yes sir! Large wash rooms fit for any size! Here we provide with all your grooming needs! ” Well, I would like to shave and wash my hair.
“How much?”
“Payment is after the service sir.” It doesn’t really feel right with being called sir by someone who is probably twice as old as you. I guess here they bill you after so they know how much of their items you have used up. Cheap bastards.
“I want a shower, to wash my hair and a shave.” Now you know you know how much to bill me.
“Yes sir! Well we have a various selection of shampoos for your mane if that is what you meant. And we do have shaving razors.” Good to know that the hair and shaving issues are covered, but she still didn’t give me the price.
“How much for all of those services? I would like to know now so I would know if I will have enough to pay.” I can’t be anymore clearer than that.
“Oh! Yes of coarse sir. The price comes up to be six bits.” Back home I have been to some spas with an idea of how much something should cost. I can’t really compare prices from home to here because I don’t understand the money value, this is the first time I am actually spending something in this world. To me six bits seem like less than what I should pay, but I am not going to complain if it means spending less. Looking into the bag of coins I counted ten bits, enough to pay for the shower and maybe for something else. Now comes the next issue.
“Do you have a private shower? Something closed off?”
“Our showers come equipped with curtains for the privacy of everypony!” She said those words with such exclaiming pride that it makes me wonder if she is related to Trixie.
“That is good. How about a locker?” I have my backpack and clothes, my growing paranoia won’t let me leave them out of sight. That and I don’t trust anybody here.
“Yes sir! We have lockers for all you things!” Her enthusiasm made seem younger that she was. A world where everyone is happy, I find that hard to believe. The old pony was looking me over, paying attention to my clothes and scarf.
“Why do you wear so many clothes sir? They don’t seem like any kind of formal wear.” Her curiosity got to her, like everyone else probably. Here they only wear clothes on formal occasions, parties and their version of Halloween. I didn’t want to explain to anyone at Ponyville why I wear clothes when Rarity first enquired and Zecora was either too respectful to ask or she didn’t care.
“It doesn’t matter. I would like to get started.”
“Yes sir! The lockers are on the right of that hallway there and the wash rooms are on the left. Just place your things in a empty locker, close it and take the key. Here, let me show you!” She walked around the counter and waited for me to follow her.
Walking behind her I notice her cutie mark, it was a back scrubber. How the hell can someone have a talent for cleaning others? That to me seems like a shitty deal that life gave out. Nobody dreams of being janitors, trash collectors or cleaners. That is just the way life works, we need those people because nobody else is going to clean or take care of those things, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I would know. Back when I was still at home, I needed money so I took any job I could find. I ended up as cleaner at a small law firm office for once a week. I didn’t like it, I hated it and I know that nobody else would like that kind of work. However, here is different I suppose. They say that if you do what you love than you never really have to work. But just because you have a talent and end up doing it for a living doesn’t mean that you are happy with it.
We entered a large white locker room with no one it. I realized that this was the only room with lockers, which means that it is shared by both genders. It seemed like all the lockers were free. The ponies usually don’t carry any things around unless for shopping or some reason. The lockers were all colored dark grey, small, had top and bottom lockers and they were all about my height. I took the top closest one to the entrance. I took off my backpack and placed it inside. The mare was still there and seemed to be waiting for something. I reach over to my glasses and notice how she was looking attentively. She wanted to see what I really look like without my clothes hiding my features, probably no other living being that needs to wear full body clothing. Except now there is another good reason for me to keep covered other than decency.
I pulled back the hood, took off my sunglasses and unwrapped the scarf from my face. The old mare gasped and covered her mouth with her right hoof. When I look at my body or into a reflection, I see myself as always did. My body was real in the way I always perceived it with the same textures, colors and details that contradict the world that I am in right now. This world is plain like a drawing with solid colors, almost no details or sharp textures. I don’t know what the ponies see when they look at me, probably their own reality version of me. When they first saw me in Ponyville all those months ago they commented on my scratches and wounds. It seems that this world highlights my scars, makes them stand out even if it is a light scratch that you would have to look very closely to even notice. In my childhood I received many cuts and bruises, most kids do. My face has some permanent cuts and marks that really stood out to the ponies. I have light cross cut mark on my right cheek and a deep small horizontal on the left. Some cuts near my eyes from old fights have left me with some gashes. I caught a disease when I first arrived to New York. It ended with me losing some small pieces of flesh, two small holes in the center of my fore head just above the eyebrows and some various other scars. They were all small and barely noticeable, didn’t hurt my chances with girls in any way. In fact, a published psychology paper says that scars attract women due to an old part of the brain and survival instincts.
Acne was bitch when I was younger; it took me my whole junior year in high school to clear it up. Acne doesn’t go away so I have to clean my face regularly to keep it away. Zecoras plant extract as soap was alright, but I have not washed my face for some time now. Every single one of the slightest old cuts and scratches shows up, the old cuts on my lips, the old hot water burn on my chin, the massive abrasions on my cheeks. All of those old scars that nobody can’t see or even tell if they happened have all been highlighted in this world for the locals. They were not stupid and could tell that some of them were from fights, part of the reason why they were so cautious in the beginning. I don’t even want to think how they would react to the other parts of my body. Some scars never heal and those are the ones you can see clearly.
The old mare was staring with wide eyes as I take of my jacket. My arms were exposed due to my short sleeve shirt. Her eyes widened even more if that is possible. It was either the scars, the visible veins or the lack of fur that made her gasp again. I am done scaring the old girl.
“Can I have some towels? Large ones would be preferable” She still had that shocked look when she looked up and opened her mouth.
“Yes.” Her voice was raspy with a hint of fear. She walked off back to the entrance while I started taking of my shoes and socks.
She came back with two large towels on her back and a basket with some bottles in her mouth. I reached out and took the towels. She flinched when I outstretched my hand but relaxed when she realized I only took the towels. She put down the basket on the ground not too far from my feet.
“Now you know why I wanted a private shower room.” There is no point in pretending that I didn’t know why she was so shaken up. She looked up into my eyes and was even more frightened.
“What happened to you?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Life.” These scars are not signs of pain, abuse or war. They are part of my experiences, my accomplishments, my victories, my losses and my life. My gaze remained the same emotionless expression as I looked at her. “I don’t need anything else. I will see you at the front desk to pay when I am done. Thank you.” She must have gotten the hint because she turned and slowly walked back to the entrance.
I did not waste any time as I quickly stripe off my clothes leaving only my leather cuff, bracelet, pendent, and underwear. I locked everything up, took the key, put my knife in the basket, picket up the towels with the basket and quickly walked to the shower rooms. The key was like a toy because the way it was shaped and how it was a light yellow color. The feel of it was of some metal, probably steel.
My paranoia was screaming inside my head for how vulnerable I am here, exposed with only one knife for self defense and tired with an out of shape body. (This may end really badly, I have to do this quickly and get out of here.)
The shower room was large, tiles were everywhere except for the ceiling and the showers were lined up like locker room showers. The inside of the shower was way bigger than the regular ones (it could fit three or four people easily) with a large mirror on the right side of the wall and curtains completely covering the entire entry. There were three closed showers that I could see with the sound of running water and steam coming out from them. Someone was witling a tune I could not recognize. Quickly going inside the nearest shower and closing the curtains completely. The entire room was well lighted and the curtains have covered the entire entrance which meant I would not have try and hide if anyone walks by. I take of my last piece of clothing and turn on the water. The water was cold, the shower had colored knobs like the ones at home so I can regulate it to the proper temperature. I have not felt water on my bare skin for a long time, too long. I close my eyes to enjoy the feeling completely. For just one small moment in time, for almost a second I felt like there was nothing wrong. A delusion from a tired, paranoid and angry mind. I open my eyes and turn to the mirror.
Jesus Christ! No, really. Looking into the mirror I am greeted by an image of Jesus. That is if he had some of the scars and holes in his face that I do. On second thought, I look more like Rob Zombie. My body looks bad, some of my muscles have shrunk and my abs are not as well formed as they once were. (Did a two and half months really screw me up this badly?) The dirt and grime on my face, the extremely dark circles around my eyes and the long hair and beard makes me look like I went through an apocalypse or something. Back home some people used to tell me that if they were to just listen to me and not look at me, they would think that they are talking to an old man. Now I sound and look the part. I always had dark circles around my eyes, however they were never this dark. It was not a very pleasant sight to say the least. No wonder the old mare was scared when she looked into my eyes.
I started to wash myself as thoroughly and quickly as I could. There was some steel wool in the basket that I didn’t hesitate to use. Not cleaning for weeks leaves some stuck exfoliated skin on the body that sucks up dirt and sweat. My back acne was not doing any better, I think it got worse now. Exercising and practicing martial arts have made my shoulders look horrible over the years, that is part of the reason why I always prefer to wear a shirt even on a hot summer day. The shampoo and conditioner were alright for my hair. It felt refreshing to have all the dirt and sweat off my body and hair. After completely washing myself, I am left with only to shave my face and then I could go. I found a straight razor and a plain white can that had an image of shaving cream on it. I only used modern day razors and electric shavers so this going to be difficult. Each move had to be carefully and slowly done so that I do not cut any arteries and kill myself. Slowly shaving with a sharp knife was not comfortable. I ended up finishing with some small cuts on the chin and one small cut above the lips. However now I don’t have a beard or a mustache and look like myself again. I have not seen myself like that for over two months. The dark eyes made me look somewhat older than I am, but not as much as with the beard. I couldn’t wash away the dark circles, the insomnia must have broken a lot of capillaries to cause this much of a darkening. Some good rest and food should make it better.
Drying up quickly with the towel I put on the months old underwear to my dismay. I have only a single set of clothes and nowhere to wash them. Washing myself so that I would put back on my dirty old clothes again makes all the effort seem wasted, however I do not have many options currently. Wrapping my waist with one towel and placing the other over my head and shoulders I cautiously open the curtain and look out. The previously three occupied showers were empty with no sign of anyone else here. I quickly run up the locker room and carefully look in. There was no sound and I do not see any one in there. Running in I open the locker and begin to dress up. It feels horrible to put on old dirty clothes after such a nice shower. What a freaking waste. I finish dressing up with all my clothes, placing my knife on my belt and everything else back on where they belong. It feels good to at least be covered, even if it is in dirty clothes. Putting on the glasses and gloves, I take the basket and walk out to the front desk. I was finished with no problem and I did not need to use my knife.
I see the old pony is behind the counter and reading something. I did not cover my face with the scarf because she more or less saw everything already. Placing the basket on the desk and reaching out into my pocket, I pull out six coins and place them on the table. When I look up at the old mare, I see her staring at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
“Thank you. Have a nice day.” I turn to leave.
“How old are you?” Her voice was no longer a whisper or any traces of fear. Yet it was not the enthusiastic voice of happiness that ended with the word sir. It was the voice of an old caring woman with sympathy and sadness.
I turn around to see her with a sad expression on her face. She reminds me someone that died a long ago, a dear old friend that I did not even think about until now.
“Old enough.”
“What did this world do to you for you to end up like that?” Her voice was sad and her eyes began tear up.
“Nothing that I did not do to myself. Don’t worry about it.” I turned and left without waiting for any response.
I could have made her feel better by calming her and telling her something, anything. However, I felt like getting some kind of revenge on the ponies. I know that she did not deserve to cry, however I cannot waste any more time and risk being found out just to calm her down. She would turn on me if she knew who and what I am, it would make no difference no matter what I do or say.
Placing the scarf over my face again, I walk quickly to the ship. My paranoia returns as I walk through the streets with more locals outside. There are some ponies that do not pay attention to me, but there those that do. No one had any troubling looks so I felt better. I quicken my pace and try to listen in case I might have to run. I make it to the boat and walk up the entrance where the same griffin that I first meat stands in the same place as before. I didn’t bother asking his name and I do not really care for it.
“Halt! Your working papers?” What a jackass.
“Are you serious?”
“No, I’m just joking with you…Sorry” He had a big smile on his face when he said that. How the hell did his beak stretch like that? Fucking cartoon planet.
“Where am I to sleep and place my items?”
“Oh right, you didn’t get to see the barracks yet. Come on!” He started walking back into the ships cabin with me following him.
There were more griffins on the deck, some looked at my direction and then turned back to whatever they were doing. Entering the cabin and going down the staircase, I noticed that there are three floors as we entered the second one after passing the first. At most these olds boats have only two floors, it is as if the interior of the ship got bigger on the inside. (At this rate I will not be too surprised if I see a big blue police box out of nowhere.) The barracks was one large room across the entire ship with bunk beds parallel to the walls. The entire room was made of light brown wood, had only six windows with three on each side across the length of the entire room. Each bed had a dark grey bed sheets and covers with a single white pillow. Some of the beds had bags placed on or near them. There is a bed that has the top bunk near one of the support beams on the ceiling, making the back closed off like there was a wall.
“Is that one taken?” Pointing at the top bed that was next to the support beam. The griffin looked at where I was pointing.
“Nope, it’s free. You can have it. Put something on it so others would know it’s taken.”
I threw my bag onto the top bunk bed and pulled myself on to it. My strength is weaker then it was two months ago, however I am still strong enough to lift myself. The bed was barely big enough for me to lie down completely. The sheets felt like the cheap blankets you would get on an airplane and the pillow was small. It does feel more comfortable than the ground or any tree by a lot. I jump off the bed and turn to go to the door. The griff is still looking at me.
“Thanks. Is the captain in his room?”
“Y-yes.” Why was he stuttering now? Whatever. Walking up the stair case and next to the captain’s door, I knocked.
“Come in.”
The room has not changed since I previously here, except now I did not see my sword there. The captain was sitting in his chair as before and looking up at me. Looking me over, he frowned.
“Did you take that shower that I told you to?”
“Yes. I only have one pair of clothes. At least I do not smell as bad as before.” The captain sighed. “Here is the change of the money you gave me.” I was pulling out the bag from my pocket.
“Keep it. It’s cheap change and at least something for not paying you.” He is still going on about that? I do not need it; however it would be foolish of me to give it away. I can use it for something if things become desperate.
“Thank you. How much longer before we set sail?” I took of my scarf and sunglasses as I asked. The captains eye widened slightly but then returned to normal. He must have seen worse things or he doesn’t care what I look like.
“In a few hours when the sun sets.”
“Thank You. Is there anything you want me to do?”
“Not yet, you’ll be assigned your job later tonight.”
“I will see you later then.” He nodded his head and looked down at his paper covered table. Apparently he did not notice how I did not refer to him as sir or captain.
Walking out onto the deck I notice how the sky was a slightly different color, the suns position has changed. There were more griffins walking to the entrance and flying onto the deck. Some looked at me and kept going, others tried not to stare at my face with no success. I do not care anyway what they see when they look at me. I leaned on one side of the ship and looked at the city in the distance. The highest buildings that the city has are ten floors and there were about four or maybe more of them.
I barely noticed how some of the griffins have begun to pace around and move things. The time to leave has started. Everyone was either standing and looking around or walking and doing something. In few hours the ship started to move and turn to the sea. (It moved and turned to the side way more faster than any regular ship, it was almost a perfect ninety degree angle.)
As the ship moved away, I quickly walked up to the end of the ship and looked at the slowly disappearing land mass. The captain walked up next to me on my right side on all fours and sat down looking out at the same direction that I was.
“It is beautiful isn’t it? After all these years and it still gets to me.” I did not respond as he continued.
“ Goodbye Equestria. Until next time we meet.” He then gave a salute with his right claw.
The land was covered in twilight as the sun sets behind the mountains. Looking at Equestria as the ship moved away, I outstretched my right hand and flipped my middle finger at it. The captain obviously misunderstood the meaning of my gesture as he nodded approvingly at me with a smile. (God I hate this world.)
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
The captain had left me alone after some minutes of starring at the slowly disappearing land of Equestria. I stood there leaning on the wooden edge of the ship and looking out as the darkness slowly took over and the day had turned to night. I can hear motion and orders being given out, and yet no one had bothered me or even called me. I guess they either do not know what work to give me or they are possibly too intimidated to approach me. It did not matter to me either way at the moment as my mind has turned to thoughts about today’s events.
It was either the lack of sleep or the lack of proper nutrition that has made my judgment rather poor lately. If I am trying to avoid being caught by a ruler who has almost cult like followers as her subjects, then walking in to a populated area for any reason at all was doing the exact opposite of that. I could have done everything differently than what I have. I could have just stowed away on the boat at night and dealt with whatever happened later, or I could have just not gone to the bath house and stayed on the ship. I still smell bad so who gives a shit if I washed myself before I put on dirty clothes again. This always happens, I think everything through carefully and then later on I find something wrong with it. I either missed something, I didn’t see it coming or I later find something that could have been done differently. Well, at least it is over and I didn’t get caught. Someone had to have heard of me or wise up when I was walking through the street. Me being seen by the locals guarantees that somehow someone will bring up the news and Celestia will figure it out or maybe not. I cannot tell the difference between logical deductive reasoning and paranoid delusional thoughts anymore.
The temperature is rather worm outside even though it should be fall by now. I counted the days since the first week up to my first month. I stopped after that because there did not seem to be any point in doing it. All those holidays and birthdays seem to mean nothing now that I am in a different world. What is the point of celebrating a holiday that does not exist in this world or a birthday that no one will ever remember? Having a reminder of these things would serve me no purpose, if it were not for my family than I would probably not have bothered in celebrating anything. Seasonal changes should be evident by the temperatures and changes in climate. Counting the number of years is just not appealing enough for me to be bothered with yet. I keep track of the weeks passing so I know how much time I have spent here. It is interesting for me to see how fast time seems to fly by. One day you are young and free without a care in the world, and the next you are in fucking cartoon world that can kill you. That is just weird and wrong in so many ways.
Although the weather seems to be warm, my hair is still wet from the washing and I don’t want to catch a cold. It would suck for me to be sick on this ship and have to work. Wait, if I get sick then where the hell am I supposed to go to get better? The hospitals on this world know nothing of human diseases, anatomy or physiology. One small pill that they give to their kids could potentially kill me; anything that they have as medicine could kill me! If I get sick with something serious than I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I will suffer slowly and then I am going to die. Fuck! Zecora’s recipes are great for small ailments like headaches and wounds, however I do not think that they will be very effective against something that needs surgery. My paranoia is having field day with this. God I hate my life.
Opening the door and going through, I notice that there is light coming from the captain’s room. I have some questions that maybe he can answer. Coming up to the door, I don’t bother knocking anymore because now that I am on the ship I don’t have to play the role of the poor wretch with no other choice but to beg for a ride. Walking in the captain was still seated at his table with papers spread around him and the quill still in his claw. Wow, paperwork sucks no matter where you are. It looks like he was writing for a long time even though I saw him like a few minutes ago. The quill looks really warn out, there are ink blots on most of the papers and some of it on his claws. His writing looked like squiggly lines from the door; I should be able to read the words from this short distance. The writing would still be illegible to me though. The captain looked up from his writing with a tired look.
“Sorry to bother you, I have some questions if you don’t mind.”
“I’m kinda busy, but I guess I can take a break.” He was rubbing the space between his eyes with his left claw as he said it. “You should go get some rest while you can, we start work soon.”
“Alright, first question. Why did we set sail in the evening and not in the morning?” I don’t know anything about sailing, but I do think that it is better to set sail in the morning to have a clear view of direction and to catch the winds. Maybe I am wrong, I do know that star navigation is utilized even in the modern day if the tech fails for some reason. But that does not make sense, the guy should know the directions and have travel routs memorized.
“Doesn’t really matter what time we set sail, we are good on schedule and we can spare a day or two if need to. But I’m pretty sure that the crew would like to get home sooner.” That explains the working at night part. The sooner we get there the better or everyone.
“Do they all come from Avias city?” Even if it’s a bird pun the name is not half bad.
“Some of them do, were goanna dock there for a week, have a new shift of workers come in and then back to work again.” Now I know the future plans of this ship, this will give me some time to think through my next move. Now it’s time to figure out where exactly I am in regards to the show, throughout my whole time here I did not know in what time or episode I am in. Zecora had very little interaction with the ponies, so her knowledge of events is almost nonexistent. The few times that the ponies or the cutie mark cru… (god I can’t even think those words out) have visited her, they rarely talked about their adventures except for the CMC who have adventures every day. I don’t even know what season I might be in, or if the show was even relevant to their lives. For all I know, the show might have just been making up the adventures and using the characters as a means of telling it. I know that I am at least past the first episode because the main characters have already met.
“Have you heard of anything happening in Ponyville lately? Maybe an Ursa Minor attack, an old spirit of chaos making a return, a wedding, changelings?
The captain had a confused look on his face, like I just asked the weirdest question or something.
“Well I never heard of a Ponyville before, is it some small village?”
A village? It is in the god damned name! I am not too surprised that he does not know about it, small villages don’t really get much recognition unless they have some great quality to them. I thought that Sweet Apple Acres would be known, I guess it is just a local farm that gets through the years with its sales. The farm is not rich after all. He should have at least heard of it, that was where the sun celebration happened that Nightmare Moon crashed, Discord had a field day there and Spike had a Godzilla moment there. Come on, this is news worthy stuff here.
“Yes, it is a small town near Canterlot.”
“Oh yeah! That’s the place where Princess Luna came to after her thousand years of banishment. I don’t know anything about any Ursa attacking, and a… spirit of chaos? What?” He had confused look on his face as he moved to the subject of Discord.
Ok, I can understand him not knowing about Discord. The ponies did not know anything about him until old sun ass told them. And his so called reign of chaos lasted only a day. God of chaos my ass! True chaos cannot be contained in stone or anything else, it is a law. He was actually my favorite character, hell he was the reason I even found the show. Never really thought about what a shity god he is, losing to six talking barnyard animals is a MAJOR low point for a god. What the hell is the point of having reality manipulating powers if you don’t use them?!
“Never mind. What about Canterlot? Was there a royal wedding lately? Anything involving changelings? Maybe something about a Chrystal kingdom?” Give me something to work with here, where am I in the shows chronology?
“Ok. I heard there was some wedding about a month ago. It was attacked by some swarm of pony like black insects or something. I think they were called changelings, I’m not sure. I never heard of any Chrystal kingdom in Equestria or anywhere else really.”
Apparently I am past the second season by about a month here. I came into this world earlier than the show ended back home and the show ended almost six months ago adding in the two and a half months spent here. So I arrived before the wedding and probably an episode or two before the finale. He does not know about the Chrystal kingdom, I thought that it was a small part of Equestria that Cadance and Shiny governs but is still under the rule of the two princesses. So how will it come up in the third season? Is Cadance going to make her own kingdom or something? Or maybe the show is relevant in the sense that it happens as the writers come up with it? Whatever, I am not in Equestria anymore so who cares what happens there.
“When are we going to arrive to Avias?” Might as well know how long this trip is going to be and maybe try and figure something out for the future.
“If everything goes right, then we should make it in three days.” I have three or more days for me to figure something out, not too bad. Not time for some experiments.
“Would you have any spare piece of paper that I could use?”
“I don’t know, let me check” He started rumeging through the papers on his desk. Picking some papers up, looking them over and then setting them down. Then he opened his drawers and started going through them. He pulled out one decent sheet of paper, looked it over from both sides for any writing and then outstretched his arm to hand it to me.
“What do you need it for?” Everyone here is too curious for their own good. There is no point in telling him that I am going to try something and probably waste it.
“To write a letter.” The paper felt real in my fingers even if it looked fake and somewhat slightly grayish. The papers on his desk were mostly parchment scrolls which I guess were meant for documents and important paperwork. That is probably normal except that there is not a lot of need for that. Plain paper is actually better than scrolls just because of their practicality. They have regular mail envelopes and all that, so then why does Twilight use scrolls all the time? Then again this is monarchy ruled lands, so the classics still hold true. That’s probably not even parchment because if I recall correctly it would be made from dry animal skins. Most likely papyrus or something similar. There is no point in asking him about it, it is not like it makes any difference to me.
“Then you’re probably going to need some ink and quill. I don’t k now if I can spare any…” He was rummaging through his table drawers again as he said it.
“It is fine, I have something to write with.”
“I can maybe find a pencil for you.” At least they have pencils, maybe I can draw something later to pass the time.
“Really, it is fine. Thank you.”
“If that’s all then I should really get back to my work. And you should go get some sleep or you will be too tired to do anything.” He is right, I don’t know what work waits for me and I should get some rest. Although something tells me that there might not be any sleep for me tonight.
“Thank you for your time. You should get some rest yourself.”
“I would if I could, but this pile of forms and letters aren’t going to write themselves.” His words came out with a smile as though the idea of going to rest now is humorous to him. Paperwork really sucks.
Leaving the captains room, I turn to the stairs and go down to the main barracks. I can hear the sound of talking before I even reach the door, it seems that nobody is sleeping yet. Before entering, I stop to collect my thoughts and prepare myself for what might happen next. In real life, there are many ways in which something like this situation could play out. It could be fine and no issue would arise, if only life were that easy. From their point of view I am the oddity that none of them has ever seen before. It is inevitable that I would receive stares as though I were some new exhibition in a zoo. I might me barraged with questions to which I would most likely have to lie. Their curiosity is understandable as I know that I would be in their position. I might be met with prejudice or some other reaction, possibly fear. Then again my paranoia might be making this into a bigger issue than it is. That and I do not see why I should care what anybody thinks of me, three days and I am gone.
From what I can understand based of the cartoon, everyone in this world is openly trusting, open to being befriended eventually and offer a chance at it. It was as if they were never exposed to treachery, deceit and real betrayal. They were like a young child’s idea of what an adult is. My first interaction with the ponies, the captain and the old bath house lady were evidence that it might hold true. However, the main characters and the sun cow were the opposite of that. I continue to ponder on that out of character behavior from time to time. (They were exactly like in the show until she came and spoke her warnings about me.) Regardless, I assume nothing about anything and I have nowhere better to go.
I open the door and walk into the barracks, noticing the details of the surroundings through my peripheral. The room was lighted from what looked like gas lamps on the ceiling that were not there when I first came here, seriously where the hell did that come from? The majority of the griffins were in their beds, there were two groups in different parts of the room seated around some of the beds and looking like they were playing cards and talking. Some of the griffins were simply resting in their beds, there is one in a top bunk in the closer right side of the room who is reading a magazine and there is one who is standing over the bed of another and looking in at a newspaper that one of them was reading. Their coat and feather colors were interesting as they were not natural in comparison to my world. Many of them were a variation of the brown and blond, two I thing were dark green and there was a blue one there too. I guess they are like ponies, colored in by a kindergartener who was color blind and never seen what animals look like except in cartoon pictures. This really getting stupid, what other messed up colors do these poor bastards have. This world has hair dye, use it!
The ones in bed didn’t pay attention to anything as most were either sleeping or too occupied with talking. Some of the griffins that noticed me were simply looking at me curiously and some looked over whatever they were doing and went right back into it without any interest in me. Overall I did not seem to change the mood in the room to much, a decent reaction considering it could have gone worse. The griffin who led me to the bath house most likely told everyone about me and some of them had to see me on the deck when she ship was setting sail.
I walk up to my bed and climb onto to the top bunk, my backpack remains undisturbed as I have left it. My shoes are not visibly dirty, they are however worn out from being constantly worn for two straight months. I do not want to have to sleep in them if I can, however taking them off would not be very appealing for the others whit whom I will be sharing a room. I do not want to antagonize them without a good reason, so I am going to have to do a little more acting then I would like to. The bed feels comfortable as I sit up and lean on the side of the support beam. I am still wearing my jacket and hood to hide some part of me from their eyes, and I can feel their stares from behind and around me. Wearing the same clothes for so long can make anyone feel uncomfortable after some time. This jacket is comfortable by itself and practical for the situation I find my life in. However, the black color is slowly losing its luster and beginning to have signs of aging, it smells of dried old sweat and forest grime and it can only be worn so long before I find myself wishing I had something else to wear. The black shirt underneath is in no better condition. It smells, it is ripped and when it will get colder I will not be able to protect myself properly from the weather. I actually like cold weather and enjoy the winter season. However, having a high tolerance for cold does not mean that I cannot get sick, it might be worse because I don’t necessarily feel it when the weather could reach dangerous temperatures. New York weather was really screwed up within the last few years. Global warming, what more proof do you need when people are walking around in shirts and shorts in October?
The heat of wearing a jacket indoors is annoying me, might as well take the jacket off. It feels nice to have my arms free of cloth for the second time today. If there were any sounds of surprise or gasps I did not pay attention to them. My hair is free to fall on my shoulders and back being slightly damp, should dry soon. Folding the jacket and placing it near my makeshift bag, I close my eyes still seated and take in the sounds. The ocean can be faintly heard from behind the side of the ship, the talk of the crew was slightly quieter but not relenting. I can hear their talks of their card game, the food they and some of it regarding me. The long hair made some of them assume me to be a female. Not the first time in my life that my long hair had caused me to be in to some less than pleasant situations. I have my mother’s face and with long hair my features become slightly androgynous and the issue with my voice makes it sometimes worse. Regardless I don’t want to cut it and nor do I have any rubber bands, so I have to deal with it. It still is annoying as hell to be confused sometimes for a different gender.
The talk about me had died down as their interest was lost, good for me. Sitting on the bed, I thing about how I am in a room full of griffins. I really prefer solitude over crowds of people; this is obviously not a crowd, however I still want to be alone. At least they are courteous enough to not bother me now or not interested enough, I am fine either way. The topic of me being alone always frightened my mother and grandmother. Mom wanted to have at least two children, she was an only child herself and she said that she knows how horrible it is to be alone. However, things do not always go as one whishes and my mother ended up with just me. My family wanted me to go out more with friends, find new and better friends, to get myself a girlfriend. Hell my own mother told me that I need to get laid. We always had this openness with each other and so conversations were easier with them then most people would have with their parents. They never understood my desire to be alone, they always thought it was because of my last girl friend breaking up with me. The truth is I never really had much in common between us and when we broke up it did not really change anything for me. Parent being parents, they think they know best and yet forget their own mistakes of youth. Their hypocrisy never ends to annoy me. All that open talk didn’t help much as they were certain that my desire of solitude was some kind of complex, a phase or my depression acting up. I did not bother in trying to explain anything anymore as I find that they were certain that they were right and I was wrong. At least I listened to what they had to say, I was not given the same courtesy or if they did listen than it was not evident in their conversations.
How good it is to be left alone without being annoyed by every minor thing that comes up. I used to hate having a cell phone because they would call me constantly to ask me the same questions that have the same answers. And then they expect me to call back and do the same. We see each other at the end of the day, so what is the point of having to call them at all? It is not like they don’t see me for weeks. I understand that they are my family and that they care for me, however that caring is sometimes really annoying. They get emotional and unreasonable with their demands, always having an issue when there should be none. I do not do anything to bother them; in fact I go out of my way to not bother or to be bothered. People need a break from each other from time to time, except that now the break seems to be permanent. Why could we have just gotten along when we had the time, it could have all been different. Sadly this issue was around long before I was born, longer than my mother even.
Slowly the conversations died down and everyone had started to go to their own beds. I open my eyes and see how everyone began to go to sleep and rest. One griffin was walking up to my bunk bed, most likely he sleeps in the bed beneath me. His lion body is light brown, his head and feathers were white, he has grey eye shadows and the feathers on his head were stylized in a rather modern hairstyle with the tips colored slightly red. His eyes were yellow like eagle eyes should be. Overall the guy was one of the most normal looking of them all or at least as far as normal goes in this place. He looked up at me and noticed I was looking at him. His expression became nervous and he smiled at me sheepishly.
“Hi! I guess were gonna share a bunk bed huh?” He has a young voice, probably somewhere around twenty. He is nervous and yet he did not stumble or break eye contact as he spoke with me, that gets him points.
“Yes, we will. Good night.”
“Goodnight!” He seemed more at ease after I spoke, probably worried I would be jerk or something.
The lights was slowly dimmed and then turned off completely. I can see through the darkness clearly and make out all the details of the room. The night in this world was never dark enough for me like back home, part of the problem why I could not sleep in the first month. The sounds of breathing, light snoring and the ocean water was all that could be heard in the room. I am left to my thoughts again as I consider trying to go to sleep. My jeans are comfortable, however sleeping in them is not. The temperature in the room is worm and will guarantee that I will sweat at night. I already know that it will be difficult for me to fall asleep tonight, I don’t even feel tired yet.
Sitting on the bed in the dark is not doing me any good. My hair is dry and some fresh air would do me well to help with my insomnia, there is no way that it will stop from just one good night sleep. I do not trust the sleeping griffins enough to leave my jacket in the same room with them. Placing my jacked over my shoulders, I slowly get down onto the wooden floor of the room and quietly make my way to the door. My feet make no sound as I walk, which again I have to question because the floor was plain wood with no carpet or rug to protect it from feet (claws I this case.) Going through the door and gently closing it without any sound from the hinges. In the unlit hallway I notice that there are two more doors. Opening the closest one, I see that inside there are mops, buckets, sponges, bottles of cleaning soap and some rags. A regular janitor’s closet with all the cleaning utensils, how did I not notice this the first time? Walking up to and opening the next door, I see that it is a bathroom with a small metal sink that is near the height of my waist and a wooden bathroom stall door. A bathroom within a bathroom, yea that makes perfect sense like everything else around here. I have not heard of a wooden ship that has running water and plumbing, or at least not in the classic wooden ship. I am not complaining because this solves a problem I have not even thought about.
I quickly made my way up top floor and noticed that the captain’s room was dark. Most likely finished his work and getting some rest himself, more than I can say for myself. I am out on the deck again and I savor the view of the night, cartoonish as it may be I still enjoy the night. Walking up to the right side of the ship and lean on the railing to look at the scenery. The smell of the ocean air is a nice change after the two months of constantly smelling the woods. The salty air is good to breath in, helps to clear out the nostrils and the mind. Eyes closed, I listen to the sounds of the ocean while taking in deep breaths of air. The wind blowing through my hair feels nice, it gives me moment of peace. But only a moment as I cannot lie to myself into thinking everything is fine.
I hold my hands together with the fingertips touching each other, the sensation of my finger nails makes me open my eyes and look at them. My nails are long, dirty and jagged from lack of maintenance for so long. It was nice to not be badgered about my nails from my parents for so long, however the sharp and uneven points make it uncomfortable sometimes when dealing with fabric. Thankfully there are no loose threads for them to get caught in. Cutting my nails was more along the lines of personal grooming rather than hygiene or necessity. I doubt that the locals would know the difference between nails and claws, on the ship there will most likely not be any issue about it considering that the griffins have sharp eagle claws. I do not want my nails to be tangled in the bed sheets or annoy me in any way, cutting them would reduce the chances of any of that. I take out my multi tool from my belt bag and open up the pliers. The tool does not have scissors, so I would have to improvise with the wire cutting part of the pliers. Each cut is uneven and more than once the nail simply bends rather getting cut. The length was shortened enough to be less noticeable, however they are still long enough to cause my parents to frown. I cut the thumb nails in to sharp point, nails are useful sometime too. Too bad that I did not have any of the manticore venom, I could have placed some on my nails and have them as sharp weapons like how the women did in medieval times. A less know used method of killing in the old ages of man, however it was rather effective in its purpose. Then again, it would suck if I were to accidentally cut myself with them. Man would I feel stupid if that were ever to happen.
My body is somewhat numb from the long day even though I feel like I could go on for hours. I find my feet to be stiff as I stand and my arms feel weak as I lean forward on the rail. The idea of how much my body changed in such a small amount of time aggravates me. All that time and effort I put into exercising and training feels like a waste now, then again it can be said that all my work was a waste to begin with. I am person of a different time in the modern world, or was to be more exact. I am a fossil dreaming of the glory from the past while only moving forward to the future. It is depressing to realize how the things you like have little to no value to anyone in the future, or rather it was when I was younger. I enjoy fighting almost more than anything else, and would join any sparing matches or even street fights that I could. Friendly neighborhood fighting competitions were often made amongst the teenagers as we did not have many video games and all the good movies are only shown in the evening. I had less and less fights as time progressed when I first came to New York. People interested in fighting were hard to find and to join in any clubs cost money that I did not have.
Looking back at how I was and how I am now makes me depressed and angry as hell. I have no idea when I can start to exercise again or if even there is a point to it anymore. I am in a cartoon for Christ untsake! Everything is just pissing me off more every second. Just looking at the things around me makes me want brake everything with my bare fists, except that then I remember how weak I have gotten and that just makes me even madder. It is really good that there is nobody around because if they were to talk or bother me, I would honestly kill them and throw the body overboard. God how I hate being weak like this.
I walk around the deck for some time to get myself well acquainted with the ship and to know where best for me to jump off said ship if the need should arise. It is not likely that I would get into any real trouble, however trying to think with reason is rather difficult for me at the moment. Having an escape route or two planed out would not hurt. There are no life boats as far as I can see, they have wings so they can fly away if they have to. I do not have that luxury, so if the ship goes down for any reason I am going to have to swim for hell knows how long. I really hope it will not come down to that. The mast is tall and it can be climbed to the very top where the flag would be if it were there.
The moon is full tonight as the stars are clear with only a few clouds in the sky. The whole scene in the sky is beautiful even for a drawing. The idea that Luna had made the sky is rather ludicrous for me or anyone else really. Then again who cares if that is true, it would not change anything for me. I would stand there all night but that would not do anyone any good in the morning when I would have to start work. I do not even know what work I might be assigned. They are probably going to give me all the crappy jobs that nobody wants to do, assholes. Whatever, three days worth of labor for a free ride across the ocean sounds like a good deal to me. I turn and make my way to the cabin door and down the stairs to the barrack room.
The inside of the room was calm with only the sound of breathing being audible. The griffins do not react as I slowly make my way to my bunk. Lifting myself up to my bed quietly, I take of my jacket and with some hesitation I take off my shirt. I am going to keep my shoes and jeans on. I never want to get caught with my pants down, literally or otherwise. I place my backpack and clothes near my feet under the covers so they don’t fall out. Lying down on the bed in the dark, I try to rest and fall asleep. Not surprisingly I end up in the bed awake for some time. Not having a watch, I cannot tell how long I have been awake in this state. I am not certain that I will be getting any sleeping tonight.
After some unknown amount of time, my tired body was starting to affect my mind as I felt myself slowly drifting to sleep.
“Rise and Shine!” The loud sound and the sudden appearance of a bright light woke me in a startle. My heart is racing as though I have encountered a wild animal ready to pounce and kill me. My body filled with adrenalin as awareness slowly took over. I t was time to get up and go to work. I do not feel rested at all, sometimes it feels like the whole universe is out to get me. Fuck you universe!
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
Sitting up with the blanket covering me, I see how everybody is going through the door. Some do not look all that happy to be awake while the majority had a look of those who had done this many times before. They were like children waking up in the morning to get ready to go to school, and not one of them looked like they were too tired. The cheap blanked was barely covering my shoulders and chest from sight even though nobody was even looking at my general direction. I would gladly fall back in to bed and try to fall asleep, however I need to make myself look useful to stay on everyone’s good side or at least not get in the way and become a nuisance. That and I cannot go back to sleep once I am awake. Brushing away the hair of my face and eyes, I take out my shirt from under the blanket near my feet and quickly put it on while making sure that no one is looking. It would be a bad idea to wear my jacket while doing hell knows what job they will give me, although I do not want to leave behind my things for someone to get too curious and go through them. If some asshole goes looking in to my things, I am going to break his hands and tell everyone that it is some bullshit custom to break the limbs of the one who looks into my possessions without permission. I might even be able to pass it off as a cultural misunderstanding or something.
I don’t want to leave the jacket so I put it over my shoulders as a cloak with the hood over my head. The hood will not hide my face from others eyes, it will only make it difficult for them look at me without me knowing it. A hood that hides a man’s face always gives off a feeling of secrecy and mystery. Except in the modern day it is overused by everyone to make themselves look cooler. Everyone wants to be cool and mysterious, even me in a situation like this. The hood will attract attention rather than avert it, and I know that the griffins will only look at me more because of it. Everyone is a freaking poser who wants to get attention and be looked at with interest. Those who act and say that they don’t want it, those who declare themselves as original individuals who do and wear things that they like then telling themselves that they don’t care if no one else likes it. Everyone does it even if they don’t admit it to themselves. My fingerless gloves have no fighting aid, they were just regular exercising gloves that have padding in the palm to give me a better grip on things. I like how they look on my hands even if they do not help in a fist fight, they cannot even protect my knuckles from any impact. I like the color black and I always liked it when people could not see my face. I am not any different from the rest. Pathetic.
Jumping down off the bed onto the floor, my legs felt stiff and sweaty. Sleeping in jeans for months is not good for the skin as it does not allow air flow and the release of heat, I got used to the discomforts in the first three days and it does not bother me anymore. The handmade backpack has nothing important other than some medicine leaves and dried fruits that I am certain no one would bother taking. I wonder how the crew would react if they knew it was made from cockatrice skin. I do not need the extra attention, I don’t want to answer any more questions than I have to. Some of the guys were cleaning up their beds and neatly setting up the bed sheets. I remember how I always made my bed in the morning back home. I quickly place the blanket over the entire bed and my bag, the bag is covered but can be noticed. Does not really matter if they do see it anyway, they should know where I sleep and that it is mine.
Following crew through the door and up the staircase, we enter the first floor and to the door nearest the stairs. Inside was small looking mess hall that had two long tables close together to somehow fit everyone in the cramped room. The interior of the room was all dark brown wood, the floor was covered in a cheap light grey carpet and there is one small circular window that from what I can tell was still dark outside. The room was lighted with the same gas light lanterns like in the barracks. The two long tables were a light brown wood with a low height that is shorter than the griffins. Because there were no visible chairs, than it is obvious the tables are meant to be sat at on the floor. I have only noticed now how everyone was avoiding getting in my way or even bumping in to me, although it looked like they were not even aware of doing it. Somehow the small room had fitted in a food counter on the right side of the room from the entrance. Behind it was a dark green griffin with a chef’s hat and was giving out trays with food on it. This one small room is somehow able to hold two long tables, a food counter and the entire ship’s crew of I don’t even know how many griffins. This is some serious bullshit.
The ones that got their meals walked to find a spot on the table. Most of the crew already have their meals and are now sitting by the table. The room is filled with chatter from every griffin. There is a short line of six in front of me and I do not know how many more behind me. I took a quick glance at the food that was being handed out, it looks like mashed potatoes with some kind of meat and two sticks of celery. The griffins are a combination of two predatory animals, it is logical that they would eat meat. The consumption of other food groups is more or less normal for both the lion and the eagle. Probably an evolutionary trait for survival, or some artist made some shit up when he or she could not figure out what to make the griffins eat. The guy in front of me got his tray and walked off. The one in the chef’s hat gave me a curios look before looking down at the tray with food in this claw.
“If you give me moment, I am sure I can find something else for you to eat.” The guy was about to take the ray away before I take hold of it.
“This is fine, thanks.” Pulling at the tray towards myself, the guy looks up at me.
“You eat fish?” So that is the mystery meat. If you are on a ship in the sea then food should not be too much of an issue if you know how to catch it. They probably have nets that they toss in during the day. But the food was already made when the crew got up, so when was the food prepared and where? The little counter has barely enough space and this guy has ready trays to give out.
“Amongst other things.” The guy let go with a look that I did not pay enough attention to see what it was.
Turning around I find the same old issue that can be found in any cafeteria. Finding a place to sit, doesn’t matter where I choose it is still going to be awkward. Some of the guys who were seated were looking at me in between taking bites out of their food. Maybe eating out on the deck or near the door might be better.
“Hey! Over here!” I turn to look at the speaker, at the second table near the center is sitting a young looking griffin with a smile on his face and is waving his arm at me. The griff was the one that was sleeping in the lower bunk bed under me.
“I saved you a spot.” Might as well go and sit, refusing would be rude and probably would make the others think something unpleasant of me.
“Thanks.” I sit down on the right side near him, there is space under the table for me to put my legs. The chatter continued, although some had their voices lowered and some of the others were leaning in to have a look at my face under the hood. Setting down the tray I Look down to see it has a fork that I somehow missed. The Food smells like it normally would, the fish being the only one with any real distinctive smell. Looking at it I could not tell that it was fish, however the light cooked brown color, shape and size makes it easier to believe that it is fish. The fork feels like metal to my fingers as I pick it up. Cutting in to the fish I take a small peace. Looking at the peace on my fork I do not really want to put it in my mouth with it looking like a drawing. I close my eyes as I eat the piece, it is a fillet fish with same taste as I remember eating so long ago. I am rather glad that there are no bones in it, I hate having to pick the food apart to take them out and then end up having a bone in there anyway. Having to catch fish in the forest left me with little choice than to cleat it as best as I could and then chew slowly. The taste is pleasant seeing as how it was not roasted over an open flame and has extra ingredients. Opening my eyes, I see how the young griff from my left was looking at me curiously. I guess anyone would stare at an alien cautiously taking a bite out of food with his eyes closed. It is still rude to stare though.
“Something wrong?”
“Um, no… You look like you didn’t get to sleep much.” The griff is trying to change the subject and forget that he was gawking at me less than a minute ago. If the black under my eyes was so dark that I could make it out clearly in a mirror, than I can only imagine how they would see it with their cartoonish views.
“I am fine, it does not matter.”
“Ok. I’m Beak and you?” The griff extends his arm for a hand shake. I turn to look at him with a serious expression on my face.
“Is that your real name?” No freaking way would someone’s parents (even griffins) name their child Beak. I can deal with Gazer and almost any other bullshit names that come along, but Beak? Too fucking stupid, seriously what the fuck Hasbro? Are you actually hiring people off the street or something? Who the fuck writes this shit?
“No, that’s just what the other guys call me here because of one … accident a long time ago.”
“Yea, it’s an accident when you keep walking into walls with your face first the whole day.” The guy facing us across the table laughed with some others snickering. Beak’s face was a deep red color.
“I was tired and my head was spinning, I told you that a million times already!” The other kept snickering at Beaks retort.
“So what is your real name then?” Hopefully this will bring the conversation back on topic and give the poor bastard a brake.
“Its Facili.” He said it with a smile. His name is pronounced with a k, Latin if I remember my college course correctly. Gilda is a Latin derived name from the word gild, I guess the old language existed here at some point or something. The captain has changed his name or it is a nickname or maybe even that is his real name, who cares? A nickname Beak is way better than having a name that is dangerously close to something else.
“Call me traveler. It is a pleasure to meet you.” I took his claw and shook it lightly. I remember having parrots resting on my hand a long time ago. The skin on Beaks hand/claw has a certain texture to it that reminds me of the parrots. The claws are not too sharp, probably only at the tips. His grip is relaxed so I do not know how strong he really could be, I better to pay attention to them just in case. As the handshake ends I notice how Beak has a curious look that I have seen many of the griffins having before. Most likely surprised by how my hand feels like in his claw, although the glove would limit the experience seeing as how only half of fingers were exposed. The guy across is staring at my arm, he is either looking at my glove, leather cuff or probably looking at the old scratches, cuts and bruises. Or maybe he is interested how my hand has no fur or scales except for some thin hairs. Can they even see the hairs on my arms with how their world is lacking in details?
Some of the guys who were listening in have doubtful looks when I said what to call me. Technically I am not lying seeing as how I did not say that that is my name. None of them seem to want to press on that issue or call me on it. I can appreciate them not asking any unneeded and wanted questions.
“Nice to meet you too! So where’d you come from?” God damn it, can’t a guy eat in peace?
“From faraway lands that you have not heard of.” I am getting tired of this.
“Oh, ok.” He understood me not wanting to talk about it and he actually dropped the topic, this guy is not an asshole. Some of the others look disappointed at not being able know more. And it looks like nobody else is brave enough to ask, that is fine with me.
The food tastes good after having to scavenge and hunt for all my time here. The potatoes and fish remind me of the many meals I have had back home. Some of which I doubt I will ever even get to see again. I look at the food as I eat it, however the idea that I am eating a drawing does not leave my mind so I close my eyes once every two bites to enjoy the taste. Everyone else is eating their food and paying attention to their own plates while talking amongst themselves. The griffins are at least omnivores if not carnivores, which again makes no fucking sense. Two completely unrelated in any way carnivores do not make an omnivore. However, I am looking at them eating potatoes and celery so fuck biology apparently.
The thoughts about carnivores make me remember the maticore. Something was not right with it, there was no way in hell I could have out run it even with those extra appendages weighting it down. I have a more or less clear head now with food in my mouth and stomach, so I can think about this clearly now. Its body had meat on it, but maybe not as much as it should have. The dead carcass was chewed up to the bone, but there was not much of it to begin with now that I think about it. That hungry look in its eye when it was chasing me, the persistence after all those arrows to its face. The manticore was weak before it started chasing me, probably starvation or maybe old age. However it continued to chase me, as an animal it should have some kind of survival instinct and cut its losses to live. Its eyes had some weird eye lashes in the corners almost like a… a female. I did not pay enough attention at the time to notice those eyelashes, the manticore was a female. What would make a female lion (or manticore in this case) to chase a prey to the point of exhaustion and death? It is possible that it or she was a mother, and it was chasing the only food it could for her young. However what difference does make now? I lived and it died, end of story. Now I know that if I were to face against a manticore with all of its strength then I am most likely going to die. And those timberwolfs, the attack now that I think about it should have gone differently. Normal wolf's would all attack simultaneously if met with a strong enough prey and they did not attack my throat like they should have. I could have died and yet somehow I beat them off with a shitty but sharp rusting sword. My mind returns to the present.
There is nothing to drink or I maybe I do not see it anywhere. I would not mind some coffee or tea, then again I still have my bottle with about half of the water left so I am fine for now. I really miss Zecoras tea time, she makes an awesome green tea. While eating I count up the griffins in the room, the total crew number as far as I can tell is twenty five not including the captain, all male. Personally I do not think that you would need that many people for a ship, than again I do not really know much about ships anyway so maybe you need more workers.
I am suddenly aware of a feeling of motion on the floor that I have somehow not noticed before. The ship is in water and the sails were up from last night so I guess that means we are moving forward. Shouldn’t someone be looking over the sails and making sure that the ship does not go off course? I do not know anything about ships (especially the fantasy kind like this one) so maybe it has some fixed one direction route that makes it so that it does not make a difference where we go or something. There is a sense of light vibration on the floor, almost unnoticeable. It is mechanical in nature of that I am certain. However this is a wooden ship and something that can generate vibrations on it floor is usually heavy. Or maybe it is a washing machine, who the hell knows what else this ship holds.
Some griffins had already finished eating, stood up and placed their trays on the counter. I finish the last piece of my food in satisfaction, although I am not hungry I would definitely not mind for seconds. Although I did not use a fork or any other utensil for over two months, I can appreciate the usefulness and value of having one. I am going to have to take one before leaving the ship on the third day.
“Thank you for your company, see you around.” I say to everyone as I stand up from the table. The others had nodded their heads and waved their arms in acknowledgement. I walk up and place the trey on the counter. The griffin cook is still behind the counter doing I do not know what.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“You’re welcome!”
Going out through the main door, I stop just outside of the room and out of the way of the passing griffins. I have no idea where to go and the captain said someone would give me job to do. The others were walking out of the room and in to the stair case. Standing by the door in the hallway I notice that there are only two rooms on this floor, the kitchen being on the smallest corner near the stairs and the big room that is above the barracks. That room is below the deck and from what little I know about old ships from books and movies it is most likely the storage space for shipments. What exactly does this ship carry anyway? I have some free time now so I can go back to barracks and rearrange my bed or something, or maybe I should go talk to Gazer. He is the only one that I had any real interaction with on this ship and he is a source of information about this world. I should talk to him more in order to learn whatever I can about where I am going.
“Hey new guy.” I turn around to the voice behind me; it is the same griffin that had led me to bath house.
“What?”
“Yeah, the captain told me to give you a job after breakfast.” He does not seem to be annoyed and yet he does not seem to be all that happy either.
“Fine, what job?” Probably the worst job there is, please do not let it be toilet scrubbing.
“He didn’t really say what kind of work to give you and since you’re the new guy I’m gonna give you something easy for your first day.” Already playing the nice guy card with the strange alien, smart.
“Lead the way.” Following him back down to the staircase, we stop near the supply closet as he opens it. I freaking knew it, god damn cleaning work. He takes out a broom and hands it to me.
“Don’t worry, we all had to start sweeping the floors when we all first got here.” As if the guy had tried to read my mind, if he did then he would have known that I was imagining beating someone over the head with the broom. That someone most likely being him. So he wants me to just sweep the floor and not pick up the dust, because he did not give me a dustpan. All those cartoons that show someone sweeping the floor almost never include a dustpan or something to pick up the mess, they just put all the dust from one place the next.
“So go through every room on this floor and just sweep up the floors. When you’re done, go downstairs to the engine room and help out the others if they need it.” There is only one room not counting the closet and the bathroom. This guy obviously does not know what work to give me because obviously if he did then I would have had to clean the whole ship. Fine with me, if anyone says anything then I can just say that I did what this guy told me and nobody can blame me for shit. Wait, engine room?
“An engine room on a wooden ship?” I deadpan.
“It’s not all wood, but yeah.” He completely missed why I asked this.
“And after that?”
“That’s it. You can walk around and see if anyone needs any help. There’s really not a lot of work to do on a ship you know.” What kind of work do you expect to do on a bout that is basically just moving through a body of water? How much work can one person possibly do on a ship? Not much apparently. Hey, if it means less work for me than I am not complaining.
“Alright, see you later then.” Might as well get started, I turn and walk to the barracks.
“Later dude.”
The room is empty as I go to the very end and begin to sweep the floors. The only thing that had made this kind of work bearable in the past for me was music. I would always listen to music on my iphone while cleaning otherwise my thoughts would wander to rather depressing topics and philosophical arguments with myself. And just like that my mind once again begins to wander to my situation, I am cleaning floors again. I wake up in a new world only to end up working in a shitty job, again. My mother would be so proud. I am doing work that no one in their right mind would want to do, it is the same shit that I had to deal with back home. I remember how a friend of my grandmothers would always say how things were easier in the past; things always seem more or less easier in the past. Thirty years ago you could have came to New York without any formal education and open up a business. Now you cannot do anything without a degree in something, a good credit score and good banking history. Now businesses are failing, life became but a shadow of what it once was and people are now surviving but not really living. So any job was better than nothing, even the one that requires you to clean up others shit after them and nobody is happy about it. Except for those people who do not have to do it.
I remember how my family had always told me that I would never be shit, well look at me now. I am glad that my family cannot see me right now, I have put them through so much already. In a way my disappearance may be seen as a blessing, I am no longer around to screw up and disappoint them anymore. They would always say that it does not matter what I did or something along those lines, after they had their session of yelling, bitching, accusing, and making me feel guilty and just plain shitty. Ah the good old day…What good old days?!! For every single one happy smile and good moment that I remember, I get reminded of ten crappy and bad times. However at the end of the day, the fact that we are family would mean that all the anger is temporary and that it would go in to a restart mode where it would start all over again as soon as some other shit comes up. It was not really all that bad though, I cannot really say that I truly hated every moment of my time with them. They were not abusive or manipulative like one of my friend’s parents, it was more like we could not help but fight all the time. Even now with worlds apart I would do anything for them. I cannot help but love my family regardless of our past quarrels.
A man once told me that we should count our blessing that we did not lose everything; of course his statement was out of context seeing as how he said it after a hurricane had hit. I technically did lose everything and yet instead of loss or pain I feel a sense of relief for not having to care about all the shit in my life, although I am not all that happy about losing all my possessions. Especially my knife collection, I really like knives. I wasted whatever pocket money I had on flee market knives and weapon stores. One of my favorites is or rather was a black stainless steel hunting knife with a false bottom with wishing supplies inside, a built in compass and a sharpening stone in the sheath. I also liked my throwing knives, I would spend hours practicing in my room with a target board I nailed on the wall. One of the major reasons I had fights with my family was over the wholes I made in the wall from the knives. Not one of my proudest moments I admit, throwing knives at a wall inside a small room is not exactly smart or good practice.
I finish sweeping the dust from the barracks, it turns out the room is rather clean for a place that is being used by twenty five guys. I sweep the dust over to the hallway, now I have the hallway left to clean and then I have to go down to the engine room. An engine room on a wooden ship, that does not sound right. And once again my thoughts begin to wander. How the hell did I get here? I know I asked this already but seriously did Twilight fuck up a spell or something? A human in Equestria, how fucking typical. This is the kind of shit that people write about and becomes a cliché on the internet. I know that there are some stories online about how people go to Equestria and they have fun and all that. Oh yea this is fun alright, this is so fun that I want to take a blunt force object or maybe the sword and go on murderous rampage. What the hell did I even see in this show? The main focus of the show is childish bullshit about friendship, if someone would have wanted to kick my ass and their justification for it was because I watched the show then I would honestly agree with them now. God, now I want to kick my own ass.
I am finished with the hallways and there is a noticeable pile of dirt left. I have nothing to clean it up with so I am just going to do an old trick when I had to clean the stair case in my old apartment building; I sweep it over to one stair and as closely to the corner next to the wall as possible. (How many people actually look to the corner of a step on a stair case?) With that done now I get to see the engine room, I already know that there is going to be something that will make no sense so I might as well get ready for it.
Placing the broom back in the closet I go down the stairs to the third floor, I notice the entire lower section of the ship changes completely. The floor is bare of any carpeting and it looks like it was not cleaned for some time. Why did the griff not tell me to clean up this room, it really needs a good sweeping and floor moping. The entire lower level is one great room with two big upright containers that look like silos at the very end of the room which is the front part of the ship. They are of a light grey color with pipes coming out of them and different sized red valves on the junctions, they kind of look like something out of steampunk. They are almost identical except that one has a small red square label and the other has a blue one. There are some crates of varying sizes piled up near the silos with label tags on them, no surprise that the writing looks like plain illegible lines. There are no windows and the walls look more reinforced with thicker wood. The room is somewhat dark with a reddish tint; the room is warmer than either the barracks or the mess hall. There is a light that is coming from what looks like a dark grey furnace at the back end of the ship. I guess that the furnace itself is some kind of steam engine and it looks like it was once part of an old style train. Heavy metal riveted to the floor and the back of the wall, pipes and other extensions coming out of it and into the walls and ceiling of the ship. Pistons are moving on both sides of the engine into the very back of the ship with almost no noise except for light hushing sound. Red valves are on all the pipes, there are golden yellow leavers sticking out from the floor on the right side of the engine. The artwork of the scene by itself looks rather nice and impressive. But the logic, there is none. I am not even going to bother with it anymore.
Next to the engine on the floor there are a stack of bags with one partly opened and filled with what I think is coal. And sitting on that stack of bags is a light brown griffin wearing a dark grey working apron and gloves of the same color with a shovel near his feet. He is staring at the flame coming from the opened engine door. I saw him in the cafeteria so then he should know that I work here, more or less. From what I can tell by looking at him, he is about maybe middle age. Although age is hard to define in this world when all you have to work with is height, wrinkles and voice tone. As I walk up to him he turns his head to me. His facial expression quickly changes from surprise to smiling as he stands up and sits down on his hind legs, he recognizes me well at least he is not nervous or scared of my appearance. I guess the scars do not bother him.
“Hello, I was told to come down here and ask if you need any help with anything.” By the looks of things there is nothing to do around here.
“Well hi there! You’re the new guy! The name’s Fuma and as you can see there’s not much work to do here.” Another Latin derived name and no work, not surprising. It is hard to tell his age by his voice, probably middle age or maybe bellow that. He has an accent that makes me think of Slavic, however I am not entirely certain.
“Call me Traveler.” I outstretch my hand to the guy which he quickly takes into his own with no hesitation. He shakes and then looks at with focused interest while still holding it.
“If your names Traveler, then why do your gloves say Harbinger?” His voice is casual with curiosity and no sign of incrimination or an interrogative tone. The guy read the word sown on the glove, Harbinger is a brand name for sports equipment. I guess this means that they can read regular English, now I don’t have to try and see if they can read any of my writing. Zecora never bothered to look at my little book of notes to see if she can read it, I always read it for her.
“I never said that was my name, I only told you to call me that. Harbinger is… something else.” Harbinger was going to be one of the names that I was planning on using. I might still do as long as this does not get out to anybody else. Then again Beak and probably some of others have seen the word at the mess hall already.
“Oh right you didn’t, sorry. I am not the brightest one around here. ” His face takes on a sheepish smile. He is either honest or not confident in himself. Not many would actually admit to being not very bright. He is still holding my hand and looking at it.
“Is that your houses sign?” My houses sign? He is looking at the brands symbol over the written name; it is a white shield with a black cross in it. He is probably thinking about a coat of arms that most noble families had in the old times. I guess that exists here too, makes sense that nobility would uphold such traditions seeing as how monarchy still exists.
“No, it is nothing important. So you take care of the engine? What exactly is it for?” Hopefully he will drop the subject, I do not want to explain things like brand names and mass produced goods. I am not even certain that mass production even exists in this world, except for in that one episode with the Flim Flam brothers with their machine.
“I sure do!” He finally let goes of my hand as he exclaims, pride can be heard in his voice. “This here engine works the water pipes in the bathrooms and works the ships propellers.” How the hell does an engine provide water irrigation for a ship? A wooden ship at that, I admit that I do not know much about engines. If this ship has propellers than why does need sails? Propellers obviously need energy so the engine actually has a purpose.
“How? Where do you get the water for the ships bathroom and sink? Is that what those silos are for? How exactly does the engine provide irrigation to the whole ship? That engine looks like it is solid steel, how does stand on a ship without braking or burning the wood?” It is interesting to see what kind of goddamn answers this half assed excuse for a wonderland might give me and they better be good.
“Well I just take care of the engine really so I don’t exactly know how everything works. I know that one” He points at the silo with the blue square. “holds a week’s worth of water for the whole ship and the pipes bring it to bathrooms. The wood in this ship is special, I don’t what it is called but it really strong and it does not get burned.” So the guy working on the ships engines does not know how water gets transported in it, wow that I just perfect. So this ship is made from some kind of strong wood, I guess that kind of explains how it can handle the engines weight and not get burned.
“I was told that there were others down here. How long have you worked on this ship?” I might as well learn something about the guy through small talk seeing as how there is nothing better for me to do.
“Oh some of the guys come down to help me with feeding the engine once in a while or just to keep me company. I’ve been on this ship since day one. About two years now I think.” The look on his face is that of remembering. He sits back down to where he was previously sitting and gestures me to do the same. The floor seems clean enough, so I sit down on crossing my legs.
“The company was new when it started and it needed a crew. Captain Gazer offered me a job aboard his ship and so I took it.”
“So this is the first ship that the company had since it began two years ago.”
“First and only, the company is the ship.”
“What? What kind of shipping company only has one ship?” If UPS only had one car then it would have gone under a long time ago.
“A private one, what other is there with one ship? There is only one major shipping company and it works for the royals.” No surprise that royalty and higher positions would control trade. In history those who control the trade also control the income that comes from it.
“There is only one major shipping company? Why?”
“Well, I don’t really know. I guess because royalty has the most ships.” He actually looked confused as if he never really thought about it. Private companies usually have benefits that regular ones do not have or they cannot offer. Maybe they have specific goods or special services.
“So what exactly is the difference between this company one and the royal one?”
“Oh we guarantee to bring packages faster and safer than the other one. This engine makes sure of that.” He has much pride for the engine, probably really likes his job.
“I am guessing that you have a weight and quantity limit if you have only one ship.”
“Yea, but it was never a problem. Most of the things we have to carry are decently heavy like expensive gifts and sometimes even statues.”
“So this ship is faster than the others because of the engine. Is it a special ship or something?”
“The other ships don’t have engines, something about them costing too much.” Same old dilemma as back home. I often ask why the military do not use the more advanced technology for each individual soldier. The answer is that the new tech is too expensive to be mass produced for each soldier. If it were not expensive then the soldiers would be like something out of a science fiction video game. Same problem, different situation.
“You seem to really enjoy your work.”
“You bet I do! It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s… the only thing I’m good at.” His face turns to that of sadness. That last part seems to have brought on some old memories, and not very good one by the sound of it.
“What about you? Where’d you come from?” A change in topic, he probably does not want to talk about his shortcomings. I can relate.
“I do not have much to tell, I came from a faraway place that I am certain you have never even heard of.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you? I-I mean if that’s ok with you?” I thought that the griffin who first asked that question would have told everyone already.
“My kind is called Dovahkiin.” And just like that I feel like an asshole again.
“Don’t push yourself. I know the word is hard to pronounce.” With that awkward expression on his face, the guy looks like he does not know what to say next. I honestly do not want to say anything more than I have to and I am saving most of my questions for Gazer.
“So why do you wear all those clothes? They don’t look like a uniform to me.” Talking about the subject of clothing with a species that have no use of them would make a rather interesting conversation that would branch out to many other topics like philosophy and so on. However, something tells me that this guy might not be able to follow through most of the conversation. That and I have been talking too long for my own liking.
“Unlike you, I do not have either feathers or fur. I require clothing to protect my body from the elements and different temperatures.” I take out my arm from under my jacket for him to see and to emphasize the point, Fuma leans forward to look closer at my arm.
“Huh, I guess you don’t have anything. Not even scales, weird. But you don’t need to wear them now, it pretty worm in here.” I do not want to take of anything, my current appearance makes me self conscious. That and I do not want to get into the nudity topic, it will take too long to explain things that are simple to me and difficult for others like him.
“Clothing is a part of my culture, we always wear them.” Let it be left at that.
“Always? Like at home too? That must get uncomfortable. But why?” Although I can respect his curiosity, the questions are starting to get annoying.
“I have already told you that it is a cultural thing. You would not understand.”
“Yea but, well maybe you can explain it to me?” A hopeful look appears on his face.
“Perhaps later, some other time.”
“Oh, ok.” His face turned slightly disappointed.
I could spend the day here and talk to Fuma. I would not have to deal with anyone else or have to do any more work. However sitting in this room does not sound all that appealing. Everyone on this ship must know that there is nothing to do in the engine room, so then they know that I have no excuse for not working. Might as well do something, sitting around and doing nothing is boring.
“I will see you later. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I stand up, stretching out my arms and legs.
“Leaving already? Oh well. Guess I’ll see you later then.” I give a slight nod to him and turn to the stairway. I might as well walk around and see what else there is to do.
I come to the door of the barracks and look inside to find it empty. My next destination would be the mess hall, washing dishes was never hard for me seeing as how I always did it in my home. As I come near the door and open it, I find it to be also empty. There was no griffin with a chef’s hat behind the counter or a sign of any work needed of doing. There are no dishes or trays or anything for me to do and the carpet seems to be clean so I do not need to sweep it. Looking at the floor I would not be able to tell if it were dirty unless it had some visible blemish or a cartoonish light coating of dust. Dust, which I might add is invisible by itself in this place.
Everyone is most likely out on the deck. If there is not much work to be done on a boat than why is everyone out doing something? Gazer must have realized that I would not be of any use on the deck, I do not even know the first thing about sailing. Maybe I will get to learn something before the ship arrives to its destination. Going to the first floor I look at the captain’s door seeing it being closed as always. He is most likely in there writing his papers and documents. I could come in and talk to him, maybe give him another much needed break from the monotony of paperwork. Although me simply coming in and talking rather than working and being useful would make me look like a bad and lazy worker. That would be bad for my resume. Yea right, like I am ever going to need one in this world. Do they even have resumes in this world? Ah, who cares?
Going through the door and standing next to it, I notice that the deck is full of griffins walking on the wooden floor of the ship and in the air. Most were on the deck working with ropes and knots that hanging from the sides of the sails. I remember from all the pirate movies that the old ships had many ropes that are were used in sailing the ship. The number of ropes present is way less than it should be. There are no nets for climbing or catching falling workers, not like there is a need for any seeing as how the whole crew can fly. (Except for me.) The sky appears to be that of day time and yet it feels like less than an hour has passed since I have woken up. The forests foliage always covered most of the light so I never actually got measure the length of day time in this world. Although my perception of time in the forest told me it was like on earth. I am probably still tired from no sleep and did not notice how time went by, which means that I was working at a slower pace. Wow, first day of work and I already suck at it.
The griffins are all working and do not seem to notice me. The air is somewhat colder than it was last night and the speed of it is that of a breeze. My running sneakers let the air go right through them, so I feel the wind going by my feet. If the wind gets any colder then I might actually catch a cold. My footwear might prove to be a hindrance in the future and with the winter months coming in the problem might come up sooner, great something else for me to be concerned about.
A griffin flies down and lands not too far from me. The guy is walking up to me and I recognize him, he is missing his chef’s hat.
“Hey there… traveler. Nunt said that you’re free for any work today. Right?” Apparently my so called name is now known to almost everyone and they obviously do not believe it. That is what I get for taking such a shitty name.
“Yes, I am free. Who is Nunt?” What kind of name is that? Might as well make it easier and just call the guy Nut instead.
“The full name is Nuntias and he’s the one that gave you a job early today.” So that is the guys name, no wonder he did not tell me.
“Oh. So you have work for me?”
“Yea, how are you with peeling potatoes?” I saw this coming, cooking is next to cleaning on a list of jobs a new guy gets to do on old ships.
“Decent. I was the one that always did it back home.” Every time cleaning the potatoes was my job, not like it was a hard job or anything.
“Perfect! Let’s go to the kitchen then.” I am most likely going to do his job, no wonder he is so happy now.
I follow him through the door and all the way to the mess hall. Near the right side of the food counter there is an opening door for getting behind it. There is enough space for the griff to walk around on all fours as he makes his way to the center. The floor behind the counter is the same colored rug, only dirty and worn from what looks like grease stains, wet stains, burns, scratches, pieces of brown dust or food or something. Overall it looks like a neat freaks nightmare or one of my grandmother’s many reasons to get angry to be more specific. There is a small white sink and a strangely modern day dark grey oven and stove by the wall that I somehow I missed in the morning. The guy opened a cabinet behind the counter and took out and old fashioned potato bag, I have not seen one of those bags in over eight years. He then took out a small grey garbage can from the same cabinet. He then pulls out a small kitchen knife from a spoon/fork cabinet and hands it to me. The knife is plain with a wooden black handle, running my thumb through the blade I find it to be decently sharp enough to cut food. I cannot tell the sharpness by looking at it, too cartoonish. He opens another cabinet and takes out a big metal grey cooking pot and places it on the stove.
“So, peel thirty potatoes and put the waste into the basket. Then wash the potatoes into the sink and after than put them into this pot. Any question?”
"Your name?" His eyes widen quickly.
"I'm sorry! where are my manners? The names Marks, but around here I'm called sergeant. As in mess sergeant." Interesting name, rather human.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Likewise. So any questions about the work?"
“No.” This is all self explanatory. The only thing that is missing is a chair for me to sit on, the floor is too freaking dirty.
“Great. I will be back twenty minutes.” And with that he walks out from behind the counter and out the door. Looks like it is menial labor for the win today. Getting myself comfortable on the shitty floor I take off my gloves to prevent any dirt from getting on them and start the work.
The work is easy for me as I have done it many times before. The griffins on this ship are rather decent individuals, makes me want to see their homeland. What kind of things can I find in this world? What secrets can discover? What the hell am I going to do next? This is a rather interesting experience, although it maybe not be what I had in mind when I said I wanted an adventure. Obviously this world has dangers and threats, the timberwolfs and manticores are proof of that. There has to be something even more dangerous out there, more deadly than dragons, hydras and other monsters. How will this world be different from my own? Is it possible that everything in this world is all sunshine and rainbows or is Equestria the only place that has the kid friendly filter on? Zecora told me of wars and dangers in the distant lands, she told me to be careful and to watch my back (in her own rhyming way.) Who are the bad guys of this world? And how ‘bad’ can they really be? This is children’s world so the enemies can be more or less easily found. The bad guys from the cartoon were easily distinguishable from the rest by their stereotypical behavior and facial expressions of frowns and evil smiles. It is the most basics recognition system of the human mind. So then the evil looking guy actually could end up being the bad guy and screw the whole ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ lesson. Or maybe the lesson it is true to some extent. The local might see me as a bad guy because of how I look, that might be a problem in the future.
How “human” are the locals of this world? How much of my knowledge in psychology can I actually use on them? Psychology is not even an exact science, most of it is guess work and statistics. How much of human psychology is applicable to the intelligent beings of this world? From the human point of view they are animals and past attempts at using human psychology on animals was met with failure. They are rational beings and can be said that they are technically not animals. Except that humanity does not know what exactly reason is, all we have are some trivial definitions that we came up for it. Every definition always comes down to intelligence, common sense, logic and making smart choices. The irony of reason is that it gives a living creature the ability to perform unreasonable acts. Human history and present day current events being the prime examples of that.
As I finish pealing the potatoes, washing and placing them in the pot, I clean my hands and begin to put on my gloves. The work being done I have nothing to do again until the griffin comes back. I have nowhere to go or even anything to do on this ship. While leaning on the wall and think about this, Marks comes in through the door.
“Finished already? You weren’t kidding when you said you did this before.” He says while looking over my work.
“So is that all?”
“Yep. I need to start for cooking lunch.” He takes out the chef’s hat from out of nowhere (I am going to have ask someone about that later) and begins to take out small pots from a drawer near him.
“Is it not too early for cooking lunch?” I finished my work in less than twenty minutes; the time cannot be any more than twelve or one at the most.
“Nope. Lunch time will be in an hour, so I need to get started.” Turning on the stove, he fills up the pot of potatoes with water. “Can you go and throw out the basket overboard?” He hands me the garbage basket he had me put all the peels into.
“Sure.” I take the basket even though it is technically a metal garbage can and walk out on to the deck. The daylight has not changed and the wind got slightly stronger. It seems rather bad to throw out garbage overboard like this, than again what else could I expect. It is not like it is plastic or something else like that is harmful, organic stuff is biodegradable and all that. Besides, what could old ship like this do with its garbage? Well, it could be used as makeshift fuel for the engine. The deck is still occupied with griffins except that they do not seem to be working as much as before, which was not much to begin with. Some were sitting on the floor while some of the others were flying around for fun. They all look like they are relaxing and lazing around, I guess I am not the only one who has nothing better to do. I go to the side of the ship and empty the garbage out into the ocean. I wonder if there is a real living mother nature in this world.
I make my way back into the mess hall, passing some griffins that wave to me. They are probably getting used to me. Entering the mess hall I can smell cooking and feel the heat of it, the chef is already cooking something in the small time that I left. Placing the garbage can behind the counter, the griff quickly turns to me whit a smile.
“So tell me my friend. What would you like for old Marks to cook you up for lunch?” That is rather nice of the guy to make special request on my behalf. Or suspicious depending how I look at it, everything seems to be going a little too much my way. I have to be careful around here and not lower my guard.
“No thank you. Anything you make is more than satisfactory for me.”
“Are you sure about that? I can probably find you something you might like.” His words are enticing; I am tempted to ask if he could make me some barbecue baby back ribs. Yea, that is not going to happen any time soon.
“No really thank you, I am fine. Do you need anything else?”
“Nope, I have nothing for you to do now. Why don’t you go relax before we start lunch.”
“I will see you later then. Oh, wait. Do you have any water to drink?”
“Yea sure!” he pulls out a cup from a cupboard and an unlabeled bottle of what I think is water from the same place. He quickly fills up the cup and hands it to me.
“Thank you.” The water looks animated, it is still refreshing. Giving him the cup back I turn to leave.
“You’re welcome.”
Having some time before lunch I may as well try out some of things that I wanted. The deck is drafty and would give me much privacy from any wondering eyes of the crew, the barracks should be fine. The room is not entirely empty, two griffins are resting on their own bunks away from mine. Both are sleeping so they do not react to me walking in. My bed remains undisturbed since the morning; my makeshift bag is still under the covers with everything inside. Jumping on my bed bunk and taking off my jacket for the first time, I make myself comfortable. Walking around with a jacket on for the whole day will make anyone hot and slightly sweaty.
Taking out the paper I got from the captain yesterday and my ink pen, I begin what I have no doubt is a waste of time. I figured that because this world has magic all that then maybe some of the myths about it from home might be real and work here. My mother was into that magic stuff for some time, she bought books on the topic and all sorts of talismans and other junk. I did not bother her with any of it because it was what she wanted, let other believe and do whatever they want as long as they do not bother me with it. I picked up on some of her stuff and had and read some of the books on the topic. Not enough to know any spells or some bullshit like that, however enough to know some symbols, their meanings and how they should be used. I draw up a pentagram and some other good luck charms hoping that maybe they will actually maybe do something. After some more minutes of drawing and wasting precious ink, the conclusion comes down to me having achieved nothing. Maybe there is a need for specific ingredients and chants and all that, or maybe only certain individuals can do such things. The Zecora episode said that magic through cauldrons and stuff like that is fake magic that is just smoke and mirrors, or perhaps maybe such things are possible. I should look into that whenever I get a chance.
With the failed experiment being done and me not having to test and see if the griffins can read my writing, I am left with only two more things to try out before I am completely done. I would need a volunteer for both, I still have two days worth of time so that will not be a problem. On the other side of the paper I write the entire alphabet and three simple sentences, bending the paper in half I stuff it inside my jackets inner pocket and put away my pen. With that done resting on the bed is boring without anything to do, I a need to walk around a little and get some exercise. This ship has more than enough space for me to find a place to exercise and practice my fighting. Who knows, I might end up fighting one of these griffins or any other local.
I put on the jacket again only without the hood and quietly jump off the bed, careful to not wake up the griffins. I make my way to the door and then to the stairs. Might as well go and see how the captain is doing, for all I know he probably knows how little work there is on the ship so there should not be an issue concerning that. His door is closed again as I come up to it and knock.
“Come in.” His voice comes from behind the door. Entering inside I find him sitting at his desk and looking over the papers on his desk again. That seems like too much paperwork for any one guy to still be doing for so long. He looks up from his work and smiles slightly at me.
“You know you come by around the time when I need a break.” He leans back on his chair. “So how was your first day?”
“It was fine.” He looks at me and his smile falters.
“Did you get enough sleep? Your eyes are all red. Or is that normal for you?” I guess I still look like shit, no surprise considering I did not sleep.
“No it is not. I am fine, do not worry.”
“You should still get some rest. You look like you need it.” I probably do.
"I have not seen you at breakfast this morning."
"I had mine in here." Was he sitting at his table the whole day? I think there are more papers on his desk then there were yesterday.
“You seem to be rather preoccupied with paperwork.”
“Yeah well, being a captain and managing a business is more work than it looks.”
“Fuma told me about that.”
“Yes, Fuma always was a great worker and a good friend.” He smiles at his own words.” This ship just wouldn’t be complete without him." I cannot really say that I would agree with him about that, although the guy is the only one that works on the engine so whatever.
"I have some questions if you do not mind." With the pleasantries out of the way it is time to for some answers.
"Yea sure, we got some time before lunch. I think."
"The day seems to go by fast today." I could not help but comment.
"It does, time is a little different out in the sea." Wait. If Celestia raises the sun, then how the hell does it move throughout the day? Or does it even do that? The forest had a constant cover so I have not paid it any attention and I did not bother going in to any clearings because there was no point. If the sun does not move then, does that mean that there are no time zones and other things like daylight savings time? Seriously, why the hell do I bother thinking about this anymore? This world is just too fucked up. There is no point in asking him about so I might as well change the subject.
"Can you look at this and read it?" Taking out the paper with the side of the alphabet written on it, I hand it to him.
"Uhm, yes I can read the letters. Why?" The confusion is obvious on his face.
"Do you know what each letter is?" Cant allow any mistakes, if he only sees symbols that he does not know then at least I will know where this will lead to.
"Its the alphabet. You know, the ABC's?" Now he is really confused.
"Can you write each down letter next to the one you see? I know it is strange, It is for an experiment." This must be really strange for him, I can imagine how it would look if someone asked me to do it. So far I am probably not making much of an impression around here.
"Okay..." He takes the quill from the ink bottle and begins to write down the letters on the paper. From where I am standing I could tell that he writes down each letter exactly how he sees it. There are no differences in how we both see the words. I thought that maybe I see things differently from how they do, and maybe the writing in this place only looked weird to me because of some reality warp or some other bullshit. Apparently that is not case. He finishes writing and hands me the paper, other than his letters looking like cartoon printouts it is all the same.
"Thank you. I thought that I needed glasses, now I see that I do not." A shitty little lie made up on the spot to make things easier. He does not seem to be entirely convinced by my explanation. He simply shrugs before leaning back on is chair.
"Anything else you'd like to talk about?" So many things and yet so little time. I need to prioritize the limited time that I have with him. I need to know what to expect from this world, the continents, the different nations, anything an everything about it. I need to see a world map to get an idea of where exactly I stand in this world and where should I go next.
"Do you have a world map or a globe that I could see?" There should be maps on all ships, both modern and ancient.
"Yeah, sure. Let me just dig it out for you." Shifting papers and moving stacks off the table, he takes out a large rolled piece of paper and opens it, covering the entire surface of the table. The map by itself looks typical, latitude and longitude lines, a compass drawn on the bottom right corner and some notes written on the sides.
It looks cartoony like everything else, however it is enough for me to make out the continents from where I stand. The lands and water bodies are colored in with their respective colors like in that of a children's coloring book, no surprise there. To say that the maps looks like it was drawn by a five year old would be too kind for words. The map is shit. No, less than that it is total and utter crap that had to be made by retards who came out from surgery after a massive car crash and were high from an overdose of heroine and a mix of cocaine. That would be an accurate description what I am seeing before me. The continents have jagged edges as though they were broken peaces of glass. What the hell? Leaning forward I notice that it only looks like that from a distance, the lands themselves have small ridges like what you would expect when looking at a map. There are visible signs of a Pangaea existing once, the jagged edges of the continents fit together too much like puzzle pieces. The continents themselves barely resemble earths geography, there are two major land masses with three slightly smaller island continents. Over all, it looks as different as it would be expected from this place.
The more closer I look at the map, the more details I can make out on it. For some reason the names and locations are written in English. Equestria is easy to find being one of the main continents, the map shows a number of cities, small towns and even the Everfree forest. Actually now that I look at it, the damn forest takes up a large chunk of the land, most of it is empty and not colored in. It would have taken me months to cross all of it, this map cannot be made to scale. Ponyvile is a really small town, almost a dot compared to some of the other things I see on it. Looking a the other parts of the world, I find it to be incomplete. Parts of the land near the Everfree forest for instance are left blank like they were never there or something. Same with some parts of the island continents and even the main land that reads as griffin territory. Large chunks of it are incomplete with some having question marks written on them and other have a bird skull and bones cross to indicate danger. Even the water regions have strange looking markings and exclamation points on it. Who the fuck made this map? This is a new level of bullshit!
"Is this an old map? It does not seem to be accurate. Why are there blank spots on it and what are all those marks?" I kept my voice calm although usually i would have made my opinion of the matter well heard.
"No this map is pretty accurate last time I checked." Looking over the map he turns to me.
"The blank spots are places that are unexplored or constantly changes that no map would be up to date." Unexplored? Constantly changing? What?
"Could you explain? How come those places are not explored and mapped?"
"How do you not know this? Didn't they teach you this stuff in school?" Great, there is common knowledge that is not so known to me. I am going to have to be more careful what I say and how I say it.
"We learned different things. Can you explain it to me how Equestria or the griffin lands have locations within its own borders that are unknown?" A kingdom that does not know its own land, wow that is just sad.
"Those are the kind of places where if you go in you don't come back. Even dragons have been known to avoid those spots. Some even say that they are afraid of them." His voice had changed to that of a serious tone as he said those words. Places where even dragons are afraid of, interesting. "There were countless scouts sent out to write down out as much as they could about those places, even from a distance. Most never came back, those that did mentioned strange things that none could make heads or tails of it. There were stories of how during the ancient wars there were small troops that were lost in them or diploid directly into them and lost forever."
"So nothing ever came out from there?" This is actually really interesting. Myth within a mythical world, oh the irony.
"No, It is pretty safe around them as long as you don't go into them."
"And what about those places that you mentioned that constantly change?"
"Most of them are these places" He points his claw to the large blank regions of the griffin lands. " the wastes of the borderlands. I'm guessing you don't know anything about them either." How the hell could I?
"No I do not. So those lands are not part of the griffin lands?"
"They never were. Those lands never could be united under any one flag, and believe me they tried. The wastelands are full dangerous creatures, weird environments and criminals. Whatever city or place that gets built there never stays for long, everything always changes from the roads that lead to them to the ones in control of the places. Not even the names stay for more than day. So they remains unmarked, there is no reason to go there in the first place." I really doubt that those who live there never bothered to map out their own environment. Then again with titles like wastelands and borderlands who knows. Sounds like my kind of places, maybe I will go there some day.
"So nothing is known about any of these places? Those are not the only dangerous places are they?" That question causes Gazer to look at me intently.
"Looking at you, I would say that you do not need me to answer that question."
"..."
Without a word in reply I continue to look over the map. The details are lacking, however the general descriptions are good enough to be understood. There are small blank spots in some regions of a dessert and in various other places. It seems strange to me that such places exist and yet were not mentioned in the show, I mean if Discord is attracted to chaos then why not go there? Why stay in Equestria or does he simply have a thing for it? Maybe the fans were right and he loves Celestia, that bitch. It does not matter, it is not like I could ask him. The idea to bust him out had come to mind once or twice, however in the end it did not seem to be worth it. Not like I could have gotten vary far anyway. I am going to have to get a world map for myself when I get the opportunity, or perhaps copy it down in my notebook.
"Lunch time will be soon. You should prepare yourself." How would you know that? You do not have a watch. And prepare what? Wash my hands? I did not even get to ask about the different nations and who is in control of what, next time then. Straightening up, I turn to him.
"Thank you for your time. Will you be available to talk later? I apologize for any inconvenience."
"There's no problem. The thing is that I am way behind on some of this work and I really need to catch up so I'm going to be busy for the rest of the day. Why don't you stop by tomorrow, I really like our little talks." He gives me a slight smile as he says that. That is a nice way of saying ' I'm bussy, get lost.' The guy does seem to have a lot of work so I cannot really blame him for not being able to talk. At least he is not a dick about it.
Leaving his quarters and walking to the mess hall, I think over everything that I have seen. The map was not made to scale, of that I am certain. The distance between Equestria and the griffin lands alone should take about a week, possibly even more. Avias city is not too far from the main griffin lands. I might have just found my next destination. Walk around, see the sights, visit the capital. All the typical tourist crap, and maybe find some of the underground districts. There will be time think these things over when I arrive there.
Everything goes by almost mechanically, no effort in any of my actions, no thought put into my movements. The lunch meal is grilled fish with cooked potatoes and tomatoes. With the hood covering my head again, the others on the table do not bother to look any closer as there is nothing new to see. There are the occasional glances of curiosity, however nothing more than that. Beak continues to try and talk to me, asking me how my day went and did I have any fun. What kind of fun does he expect me to have while cleaning on a ship? The others began to get used to me as they said a few words here and there. Some even asked the usually expected questions of who and what am I. I would have thought by now that my answers to these questions had already spread throughout the ship. Fuma had decided to sit across from me join the makeshift conversation between me and Beak. The conversation was mostly one sided as I only responded to questions and made observational statements. They do not seem to mind as though they expected for me to not be vary conversational. Fuma tried to get me to talk about my glove symbol again, he is convinced that it is some kind of house crest. That topic had gained attention amongst those that heard the conversation, I tried to explain of it being something different. Eventually the discussion ended with the symbol being considered something between a personal touch from the glove designer and a coat of arms. Apparently somehow I befriended Beak and Fuma without trying, actually they befriended me.
With lunch being over, Marks asked me if I could help with cleaning the dishes. A task that I always had to do back home, a menial task where I do not need to place any thought. Time passes by as I wash and dry the dishes, thinking over the map in my memory. Given some time, I could memorize the entire map in an hour or less and then i would not need a copy of the map. The idea of getting it means that I would need money, something that I have vary little. Regardless how self sufficient I might think of my self, money will always play a role in my life. With the work being done, I leave the mess hall and go to the deck for a short walk. The sky is much darker than it should be for this time. There are about five griffins on the deck, they do not pay me any attention as I walk to one side. It is colder than usual tonight, far more than any other night I have experienced here. As a slight breeze goes by, my feet receive the full force of the cold wind and I am once again reminded of the upcoming future issue. These are running sneakers made for summer with holes to allow air in and sweat out. These shoes can not hold out water from a puddle, yet alone handle a cold season. I am not even thinking about winter, when that comes I am screwed. I have no problems with cold temperatures, I actually like the cold. However that does not mean that I cannot get sick. And the jacket will not help much either, I only have a shirt under it. Only my jeans seem to be good for winter. I wish I has skinned that manticore and made a pelt, it would be really useful in the future.
Looking over my problems, I cannot help but think that I am going to be royally screwed in the future... again.
Author's Note
I am not satisfied how this chapter turned out. It was supposed to be released like three months ago. I had to rewrite the entire chapter and the other chapters I had finished got deleted. I have to rewrite them from scratch because of some bullshit that came up.
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
The short walk on the ship’s deck has become even shorter due to the weather getting colder and windier. In the distance I can make out some clouds slowly making their way closer to the ship. Making my way into the barracks, I begin to feel bloated and lethargic as though I have eaten a whole feast by myself. My body feels heated and sweaty, long stray hairs keep getting in my face and eyes. The jacket only makes it more uncomfortable to walk. Each step becomes harder, each breath heavier, I feel tired from just standing and find myself wanting to lie down on my bed. The idea that I have a bed now is still rather humorous to me seeing as how a couple of days ago what constituted as a bed for me was either a tree branch or the ground.
The room has some number of griffins (that I do not bother with counting) relaxing and talking amongst themselves, none seem to notice me as I slowly walk to my bed. It is becoming harder for me to hold my composure, I try to keep my back straight and head held high as I walk forward. There really is no point in me doing so, it is not like they would actually care or pay attention if I appear weak and tired (If anything, I mainly do it for myself.) Again I have to brush the moist hair out of my eyes as they continue to cling to my face annoyingly, I should really tie them back. This whole time I did not bother tying my hair up out of sheer defiance of me finally not having to do so. My parents did not like me having them this long, saying they were too long for me, telling me that it is too feminine and not for men, they clog up the bathroom shower (we had a shower drain net that prevents things from going down and clogging), too much hair falling on the carpets (which I always had to clean by the way, so I do not even know why they were complaining) and just because they thought I looked stupid with long hair. So I always had to tie them into a pony tail (the fucking irony) whenever I went outside anywhere. Although, to be fair I did want to have long hair so I have to deal with the issues that come with them. Loose hair always gets in my eyes and face whenever I sleep, walk or a wind passes by. My hood would keep the majority held back, however stray hairs would always find their way in my face and piss me off. I wish I had some of those rubber bands that I had stockpiled at home. Now that I think about it, I always carried a couple of them with me whenever I went out somewhere for when my hair gets too annoying to deal with, except that I woke up with only the one that was with me. I could maybe use one of the leather strips from one of arm bands, they would get untied later so that will get annoying rather quickly. Or I could just ask if the captain has any plain rubber bands, those hurt whenever I try to untangle my hair. I will probably do that later because I am about to drop dead on my bed.
Lifting myself up to the bed, I take off my jacket due to the heat. Some loose hairs instantly fall on my face while others rise up from static charge. Brushing them off I try to make myself comfortable on the bed, the belt bag makes it uncomfortable to lie down to my side as it gets in the way. Why the hell did I even wear it? It is bulky, uncomfortable when I run and is actually pointless. My jacket has more pockets than I could use, I could have just put all my things inside it to make things easier. Why did I keep wearing it? Because I thought it was cool, and I did not have this jacket when I first bought it. I feel really stupid for making all of these problems for myself; then again I could not have possibly foreseen myself in this situation to begin with. That is why I wore it, because shit could happen and I would be somewhat prepared to deal with it if I had to.
I take off the belt bag, trying to make sure no one notices the few stone knifes I have tied to my belt and place it near me. Good thing Gazer did not bother to check my pockets and belt for any knifes, boy would he be surprised. I should probably put those in my jacket, in case anyone might notice them and bring unwanted problems. Doing that, I try to get comfortable on the bed. I find that to be hard seeing as how my shirt sticks to my skin from the month’s old sweat, the jeans feel too hot to sleep in again and the socks feel like they were fragile, crusted cardboard. And I cannot take any of them off due to me instantly stinking up the room with my odor and the shear fact that I would be most likely be stared at like at a striper on a pole.
Turning to the side facing the wall to try and see if it would be more comfortable, I feel an almost painful pressure from my stomach and quickly return to lying down on my back. I should have known better than to consume all that food so greedily and without thought. Such small portions were more than enough to overwhelm my stomach after a long time of having little to eat. My metabolism did not have enough time to adjust to this rapid change. That is probably what happened to me after eating that manticore steak. How the fuck did I missed that? Did I really get that dumb and careless the last two months that I lost all ability to logically reason? I keep making stupid mistake after mistake, if this keeps up my luck will eventually run out and then… well, then I guess I really will be fucked. I need to get my head together and start focusing on what I am doing. First I am going to have to get over some issues brought on from the last two months. Like my paranoia for one; I almost completely certain that no one on this ship is out to get me or wants to choke me in my sleep and I probably do not need to sleep with knifes near my hands. Well maybe just one, just in case (you never know.)
Lying in bed does relieve some discomfort in my legs and back, although the lethargy and bloated feeling tells me that it is not going away for some time. This sluggish feeling makes me angry and the lack of sleep is not helping. I should try to get some rest, at least for one hour. My insomnia will not allow me to sleep for some time; however I will take whatever I can get. Although lunch was only about half an hour ago, the griffins seem to be more or less ready to go to bed for the night. I am more than certain that on an actual old time ship, things would be a whole lot different. Hey If I do not have to move or do things than I am not complaining, not that I think I could do much in my current state anyway. Closing my eyes and drowning out all the noise in the room I try to breathe in calmly and relax.
“Hey buddy! How’s it going? Relaxing?” Son of a bitch, not even a full minute! Opening my eyes and looking the side of the bed I find Beak standing on his hind legs and front claws holding on to the side of the bed with a big grin on his face. At the moment I am debating whether or not I should punch him in the face. I will not be able to take on the whole ship the way I am now so fuck it. I guess he gets to keep his face the way it is.
“I was trying to. And you?”
“Just walking around and checking up on others, nothing much to do really.” Nothing for him to do and he decided to bother me, what an asshole. As he stares at me curiously without saying anything for some time, I realize that this is probably the first time he sees me without my hood on. My hair probably looks like a mess.
“Anything else?”
“No, just thought maybe we could talk?” His cartoonish face has a hopeful look. I honestly would not have been able to read his facial expressions if it were not for the exaggerated properties of a cartoon. So much for resting.
“Sure. About what?” His face lit up with those words.
“I don’t know, anything would be fine really. Any plans for after we dock for Avias?” Great, he wanted a conversation and he does not even know what to talk about. Don’t you just hate that? If you have nothing to talk about then don’t say anything. I have no doubts that he wants to ask anything and everything about me, I know that I would in his situation. Probably still thinking how to go about doing it.
“Not really, still thinking about it.” I pause to look at him and notice that he is still standing on his hind legs and holding on the ledge of my bed. “You maybe want to sit down? It would be more comfortable.”
“I don’t think the bed would handle both of our weights.” The idiot had a confused expression when he said that.
“I meant on your bed, we are not that far apart that we could not hear each other.” I deadpan.
“Oh! Right, your right. Sorry.” His face flushes with embarrassment as he lets go of the edge and goes down to sit on his bed. I sit up with my back leaning on the wall and my legs bent.
“What about you?”
“I’m going to take a break and spend some time at home. See how things have changed in the last two months.”
“You were on this ship for two months?” I guess that is a decent amount of time to work on a ship.
“Yea, this is my third time on the ship. Last time I spent four months here.” Four months on a ship, must have been boring. “So hey, Traveler? Why exactly are you here? I mean, I know that you’re working here temporary but why?” A decent question I guess, however an annoying one none the less. I hate having to explain myself.
“I needed passage through the ocean and the captain took me in. So now I am working for my trip.” I have hard time keeping my eyes open as fatigue continues to grow.
“Where are you headed for?”
“No idea. Like I said before I am still thinking about it.” I at least have an idea of what I am going to do. First either copy or get myself a map, then find a library to learn as much as I can about this place. Although seeing as how there is the issue regarding the inability to read things here, that might be problematic. I will deal with it when it comes up.
The sound of thunder could be heard from behind the wall, followed by the sound of slowly starting rain hitting the water and ship. It starts out slow and then picks up in pace as wind begins to rise to that of a storm. It just would not be a ship ride without a thunder storm. Some of the griffs seem to notice the weather as they turn to different directions and listen to the sounds and then returning back to what they were doing.
“Huh, the wind is picking up. Sounds like it might be a big one.” Beak spoke up.
“Apparently.”
Some small amount of time passes as he does not say anything. My eyes closed and back leaning on the wall, I slowly begin to get comfortable. The feeling of wanting to sleep and yet not being able to returns as I recall the nights that were absent of any rest.
“Hey, I kind of want to ask you something.” Great, here we go.
“What?” I try to keep my tone of voice free of aggression an annoyance, although it is begging to be harder to do so.
“Well, me and the rest of the guys were…” His voice is cut short as a ringing bell is heard from above. Everyone suddenly becomes alert as heads turn to look up. Everyone starts to get up in a hurry as though an emergency. All this sudden movement is enough to cause a reaction out of me as I become alert and adrenalin begins to course through me. I quickly jump down of my bed and turn to look at Beak who himself is beginning to get up.
“What is happening?” Beak visibly flinches from my voice as he turns to look at me.
“That’s the emergency bell. It means that something bad is happening and we all need to get on the deck to keep the ship going.” The urgency in his voice tells me that he is telling the truth.
“What do you mean keep it going? This ship has an engine.”
“Yea, but the wind will mess up the sails and we could go off course. We have to make sure that the sails hold in place until the wind goes down.” It seems that this ships navigation is entirely reliant on the sails like the old ships and the engine is just a makeshift thruster. That is really retarded, even for this world.
“So what do we have to do?”
“We need to go to the deck and do whatever they tell us to. Now come on, let’s go!” He quickly gets up and dashes for the exit. That is the first time I see a gryphon run, anatomical movements just like that of a lion.
I should go upstairs to help them; I would probably just get in the way do more harm than good. Although not doing anything would be just as bad. The weather is shit, my body is weak and I am having a hard time staying awake. I am going to be drenched regardless of what I am wearing so I should try to save some things. My jacket is relatively clean and dry so I should leave it behind, the shoes will get wet instantly so that is out too, the socks are fucked and the shirt is already wet and dirty from sweat so whatever. And the jeans are all I have so that stays. There is no point in bringing the belt bag; it would just get in the way. Taking off my shoes and placing them on the bed, I turn to go upstairs.
The rain is pouring relentlessly fast and strong as though it were from a bucket, the wind is fast and cold. The night sky is covered with grey clouds with the moon being hidden out of sight. The impact of the rain on my face and skin slowly takes away some of the tiredness, it feels refreshing and cold. My hair is now wet and sticking to my scalp and back. My shirt is soaked almost instantly along with my socks as I walk across the deck. Griffins are moving all around, pulling ropes from all sorts of angles; some are in groups trying to hold the rope from slipping as the wind pushes the sails violently. The entire deck looks like it is crowded and in commotion. I can feel the ship slowly and steadily starting to shake to the sides as the ocean waves hit the ship. Less than a minute outside and I already begin to regret taking off the shoes and jacket. Too late now.
“Hey you! New guy, come here and help us with this!” My attention is instantly grabbed by the shouting over the wind. The one yelling is looking at me while trying to hold on to a thick rope held by two more griffins behind him. It seems that they are having trouble holding on to it. I run over and grab the end of the rope and begin to pull. I cannot tell what the rope is for seeing as how it is part of some network of ropes going into separate directions all over the ship. My fingertips feel the rope as I hold it firmly and pull on it; my gloves moist from the rain do not budge from my grip. The texture of the rope, the sounds of the ocean and rain, the salty smell of the air and coldness of the wind paint a rather interesting picture in my mind. That this is going to be a long night and that I am most likely going to get sick by the end of it. I begin to feel the signs of an oncoming pain my head. Oh great, now I think I have a headache coming up too.
The three griffins pull on the rope with their front claws while trying to have a firm footing on the wet deck floor. The floor is not slippery for me as my feet have some friction from the crusty socks and the unpolished wood. They bodies covered in water as each of their heads have an almost comical ruined wet hair style and the occasional drop of water from the sides the feathers and wings. Standing the way they do at their full height, they seem look almost taller than me. Makes sense in a way, lion bodies usually are longer than humans. The work of pulling on the rope is showing the strain on their bodies if their grunts were not evident of the fact. Holding on the rope I pull on it and apparently making a difference as the rope slowly comes forward to me. The other begin to pull on it more easily now as it steadily makes its way inward. I am not pulling on the rope at my full strength, which I do not think that I actually could at the moment. Thankfully the amount of force I am giving seems to be enough. After a few more minutes of pulling out a large amount of rope the lead griffin started tying down the rope to a small hook near his feet or paws I guess. Tying the rope in some nautical knot that I do not know the name of the three seem to be happy with their work and started looking around in different directions. One moved to a group of five griffins who are trying to pull on a long rope from the top of the mast, not too far from them another hook was there for the rope. The wind probably undid some of the knots and caused the issues. Two more started running off to the front of the ship, the one that called me is looking every direction trying to find something to help with.
“Now what?!” I shouted over the wind and noise to the griffin. My question seems to confuse him as he has a lost expression on his face. “What do you want me to do?!”
“Go around and help the others!” Quickly turning his head around he points his claw/finger at a group on the further right near the edge. “There!”
The ship continues to be swing to the sides, however not hard enough for me to have any problems running over to the group. Again grabbing the back end of thin rope I begin pulling on it and helping out the rest. My help is noticed as the rope almost effortlessly gets pulled in and some of the griffs look behind to see me aiding them. I do not know what exactly I am doing by pulling on the rope, nor does it matter. This is just one more mindless menial task for me to do while enduring a lethargic state, a bloated stomach and a headache. The wet hair is not getting in the way as it would if it were dry so that is good, although it still sways from side to side with the wind. A big wave hits the left side of the ship and the griffins nearby get sprayed with shower of salt water, some small drops hit my feet. The job is finished faster than the previous as the griffins again spread out to help the others. Moving on to the next station I see there are only three groups left with me joining one of them. The rest seem to be either monitoring the tied down ropes or going back and forth from one side of the ship the other.
Looking around at the things happening on the deck I notice the captain behind the wheel turning it rapidly to his right with a concentrated look on his face. This whole scene is just way too dramatic, gusting winds, strong pouring rain, huge waves rocking the ship to the sides, everyone on the deck moving franticly around, the captain staring off in to the distance with a focused glare. An action scene right out of Hollywood, the only thing that is missing is the dramatic orchestra background music. Maybe it is a strictly only cartoon thing? Well it would not help me at all with this growing headache; it is really getting stronger quickly.
With the last rope getting tied down I am left with nothing else to do except stand at the side of the ship and not get in the way of those who are running back and forth. I am not the only one as many others do the same thing and stand out of the way. Everyone is yelling to each other to be heard over the storm, waves and rain. I could really go for some Excedrin and a quiet dry room right now. Leaning forward on the rail I try to rest as my body is still weak and the headache is only getting stronger. I do not feel the wind or the rain anymore as I ignore it. Another big wave hits on my side of the ship and water pours down on me and the other griffins nearby as though it were from a bucket. The ship shakes from the impact and some sounds of complaint are voiced from the nearby victims. Everything is just happening around me as I continue to feel sick. This is the second time something like this has happened to me, the first being in an airport after arriving to New York for the first time. I got really sick from the airplane food and some issues caused me to get nervous and worried; I do not know how many times I threw up on that day, did not bother with counting. I could not sleep on that night and I could not eat for almost two days straight. Good times.
I could just go to the barracks; it is not like they really need me that much. Hell, Gazer said it himself that he has a full crew of workers. Wait, then why is there an extra bed for me? Screw it, I am too tired to care and my head is splitting. Some of ropes are getting untangled from all the rain and motion from the storm. Griffins run in to grab the ropes and tie them down again. So far I do not have to do anything as the ropes are all being taken care of by those rushing in. Apparently some inaudible order is made as almost all the griffins go to the ropes again and begin to either retie them or to adjust the lengths.
“Trav! Over here!” I get drafted with a call of my name to one rope station nearest me with two other griffins. Trav, I guess that is less of a mouth full then Traveler. I already got myself a nickname, a very human one at that. Oh the freaking irony.
And again I begin to pull on a rope along with the other poor wet bastards. Everyone is pissed off and tiered as far as I can tell. No one wants to be out in this weather on the deck, however not a lot of choices in the matter. It is obvious that this weather is not going to go down anytime soon, it is actually getting stronger and the rain is pouring even harder. Not even close to some of the weather I have experienced, the wind is strong however it not strong enough to push me along with it. Everything I see is slightly darker with a grey tint, dark grey scenery that is fitting for this situation. Time is irrelevant at this point; fatigue and pain are all that is on my mind. How many times have I asked myself if this is real? That this not just a delusion, a fantasy from the mind of some deranged madman. No, this is real. The headache and lethargy are proof of that, that and the fact that this is all too stupid to be made up. Seriously, why the hell would a random human being eve be here? Out of nowhere with no visible purpose, this is like some messed up joke. Then again, life is just a messed up joke.
I am able to force myself to do the work without having to stop and hold my head from the pain. I probably appear to be really angry to all the others if they even bother to look at me. The sounds of the ocean waves and the yelling of the crew only aggravate me further. It is almost enough for me to want to strangle them all. My body’s whole condition is impairing my thinking, aggression and irrational anger is constantly on my mind. I have to be careful and not lose it on some poor bastard who might piss me off without even knowing it. Just have to try to keep calm through the tiredness and pain. Time passes and I cannot tell for how long I have been moving from one rope station to the next. Now I have to stand in the middle of the ship near the mast and pull on the rope along with two others behind me whenever the order to ‘raise the topsails’ or whatever it is called came. I have seen diagrams and models of real old time ships in books and museums so I know for a fact that this ship has way too many ropes, I am not entirely certain about the number of sails. Gazer’s voice call out the orders to perform what task, some get called by name other get pointed at. Orders come and go, the shouting died down slightly to only orders and grunts of frustration. My whole body is completely wet as the shirt and pants are clinging to my skin, at least the socks do not feel like crusty cardboard anymore. The wet hair clings to my head on the sides and out of my eyes from the weight of the water pouring on it. As long as I do not pay attention to the wind and the cold I can ignore it and not feel it.
More time passes as we all stay on the deck in the wind and rain. I keep standing in the same spot and pulling or loosening the damned rope whenever told. My sluggish tired feeling slowly passes away, making me feel only slightly less like shit. The whole ordeal is monotonous to me by now and the sense of action dissipates, leaving me along with the other rather tired and probably bored. Almost suddenly the wind begins to calm down. The rain becomes less intense as the drops of water loose their force on impact. This is noticed by many as they look up from their slouched positions, the tiredness and misery is evident in their eyes and expressions. Those depressed looks slowly begin to look hopeful as orders began to be less frequent. There is still some wind and the rain continues only less strongly. The waves seem to calm down to some extent however they are still strong to shake the ship. It is still night outside with the sky being covered in dark grey clouds with the grey tint remaining over everything. I still would not call it night as I can make out everything clearly. I guess the other can see in the dark as well because they were not stumbling like they would if it were too dark. Shouldn’t they have some light fixtures set up so that the crew could see what they are doing? In this weather it would probably not make much difference anyway. Again Gazer’s orders are voiced all over the ship, pull this, loosen that, tie this, and untie that. I cannot focus on what those orders are yet alone try to understand them, all these nautical terms are way over my head as all I can do is feel the never ending pain in my head. I need to get some of those leftover leafs in my bag. I don’t care; I will chew them as long as it makes the pain stop.
I feel a tug on the rope from behind me; I turn to see the other gryphon’s trying to pull on the rope. I must have missed the order to do pull on the damn thing. Their effort in force is decent, however not what I would have expected from two full grown griffons. I guess they were more tired than I thought. And so once again I pull on that freaking rope, my frustration built to the extent that I grip the rope and begin pulling on it with as much strength as I could out of anger. It resists with a great deal of force, however that only makes me angrier. Son of a bitch, piece of shit rope!
“Dude! Trav stop! That’s enough!” A griffin calls from behind me. Turning back I see that the one who called me is holding on to the loose rope while the other one behind him is tying down the excess. The griffin tied down the rope and gave us a thumb’s up to show that he is done. I slightly loosened my grip on the rope and let it slowly go so it would not snap tight suddenly and possibly rip. The one who called me was looking at me the whole time with his stupid cartoon expression.
“Are you ok dude?” His voice is audible over everything else due to him being right there and the wind calmed down enough for him to not have to scream anymore. I did not really think that they had the word dude here, for some reason it does not fit him. And other one showed a thumb’s up, I guess that would exist here. They do have opposable thumbs, or claws. Fuck it whatever.
“I am fine.” Trying to sound calm is hard and frustrating. Not a lot of point in doing it anyway, he looks rather tired and somewhat unhappy himself.
Looking around I can see that the majority have tied down most of the ropes while some of the remainder have not moved or changed anything. The wind and rain continue to slowly calm down. Some griffins look hopeful and the rest continue to look miserable and depressed. Huh, just like the kids you would see in high school on Monday morning. I continue to look around and stop at Gazer on the steering wheel. He is entirely soaked with his feather hairstyle ruined and down as if was regular hair. The determined look on his face is still there as he stares out into the distance moving the wheel ever so slightly to opposite directions from time to time. He notices me looking at him and he gives me an acknowledgeable nod before turning his gaze back into the front of the ship. Well at least now no one can say that I did not do anything on this ship. Now I earned that bed that I so really badly want to fall down on.
Everything keeps on going as the weather shows no signs of changing; I notice that some of the hopeful looks drop from the faces of the griffins from the corner of my eyes. And then the rain suddenly stops as though the water was turned off. Well that was rather sudden, it is still rather dark and the wind is almost unnoticeable. The clouds do not seem to move, almost like they were painted in place. Which in this world sort of makes sense, I guess. The others on the ship all seem livelier now that the rain stopped. Some smiled wide grins as they looked up and started to talk amongst themselves again, to my displeasure. The pain in my head is not getting any easier, I could just run off into the barracks and get the damn leafs. However that alone would get me more attention that I do not want, I sign of weakness to a bunch of sad excuse for hybrids that I do not care about and probably something for Gazer and rest to bitch about how I ‘left my post’ or whatever. God I hate my life.
And nothing is happening as I stand for the beck and call of any orders to do something. Well, at least all I have to is just pull or let go of some rope so it is not all that bad. However it does not make this any less boring. The noise from the crew’s growing talking is starting to annoy me; I want the rain to come back now. The waves have calmed down again as the ship does not sway as it has before, the wind has also calmed down to a negligible breeze. No orders have come by for some time now, many of the crew begin to sit down on the deck floor or by the rails and relax. I sit down with my back to the mast as the other two griffins do the same. My knees bent upward and my head low, I try to tune the noises out. When I have a headache, I cannot stop thinking. Meditating on it is pointless as it the pain is only slightly alleviated for a short time. And any stray thoughts that come to mind brings the pain back in full force. No matter what I do, I am screwed right now.
“Wow that was a tough storm.”
“Yea you said it.”
“Hey. Are you alright?” I turn to look at the one who spoke to me. It is the same griffin that told me to relax when I over did it on the rope pulling. He is sitting not too far from me with the other griffin next to him. They are both staring at me with expressions that I do not care enough to look at.
“Fine. Just tired.” Leaning my head down again I try to just relax. Not easy being all wet and in my clothes.
“Hey don’t worry. As soon as the captain gives the all clear, we can go dry off and go back to bed.” I just nod my head because I do not really bother with a verbal response.
Nothing is happening as me and the rest continue to sit on the wet floor. Some have actually fallen asleep while the rest just lounge around. When will this shit end so I could go get those leafs? The sky has slowly turned into a less dark shade of grey and began to resemble the deep blue that the sky usually has. I guess that a couple of hours have passed during the whole storm, it is probably not long until the sun begins to rise. The clouds have ever so slowly moved during this time of rest. Apparently in my case there is no rest for the wicked.
A bell starts to ring from nowhere; I turn to look for where the noise is coming from and see the captain ringing a yellow hand bell in his right claw high over his head. Where the hell did he get that from anyway?
“We have past the storm! You can all go back to your rest!” He calls out for everyone to hear, waking up some of the sleeping griffins. He lowers his right hand and seems to put the bell in what probably passes for a pocket in this world. He has no jacket or bag or anything on him that could hold the bell so where the hell did put it?!! I am seriously getting tired of the fucking lack of physics around here! And I am tired of saying what the fuck! And… I am getting worked up over this crap for nothing. My head hurts even more from the small mental rage moment.
Everyone begins to stand up on all fours and walk back to the cabin entrance. I slowly stand up, cracking my back and arms to relieve some of the stiffness in my joints, then cracking my knuckles and neck. Some have flinched and turned around from the noise, I really don’t care. Now that the storm is not a priority everyone begins to look more closely at me. My wet clothes cling close to my body, my wet hair is messy as I draw it back out of my face and sides as I walk to the door. Some just stand and stare as I walk by them, some began to whisper not so quietly that I can hear in detail. Most are just about how my strange clothes and body shape look; some comments are about my apparently big muscles. Well that is rather flattering even if my body is actually not all that great right now. Still nice to hear something nice now and then, it feeds whatever is left of my ego.
Some of the griffins have moved out of my way and stood aside. Seriously, when are they going to get over it? This is getting a little too much guys. Walking down the steps along with the rest, I notice that some are going into different places. A number of them go to the mess hall while some were standing in line for the bathroom. One guy in particular was holding his crotch with a comical expression that most have when they really have to go to the bathroom. That is the first time I see something even remotely funny in a really long time.
“Dude?” I look down to my right to see Beak standing on all fours looking at me with a confused expression. He is as drenched as everyone else from the storm.
“Yes?”
“You’re smiling.” He sounds surprised.
“Yes. So what?” What the hell is his problem?
“You never even smiled once since the time you came here.” I did not even feel my face stretching or anything when smiling now that I think about it.
“I didn’t?” I guess I have gotten rather numb over the time. So what? I showed no expression on my face the whole time like some emo character from an anime? No, I scowled in pain not too long ago on the deck so maybe I just had a neutral expression the whole time. Or something.
“No you didn’t. It’s not bad, you should smile more often. Some of the guys thought you were a maniac when they first saw you.” Why am I not surprised?
“That is nice to know.” I deadpan. The majority of griffins have made their way to whatever destination they were going to while I was his short exchange of words. I should go to dry up somewhere, my wet feet are making foot prints wherever I go. The only places for that would either be the bathroom or the engine room by the furnace. The bathroom line has gotten longer so my best bet is the engine room.
“Don’t take it personally. It’s just that… well they never saw your kind before.”He almost sounds like he is trying to apologize.
“I understand, see you later.” I turn and go downstairs as Beak call out later to me as well. My headache has somewhat relieved to a more tolerable state, so I can bear with it for now. The engine room is as big and full as it was before. The light of the engine lights up the room with soft hummer of the engine in the background (more silently then an engine of that size and type should be.) The whole big room is really warm. Fuma is lying on the floor, leaning on a crate behind him and panting from the heat in a cartoon fashion with beads of sweat coming from his forehead. He sees me and smiles.
“My that was one great storm, huh? I had to work this here engine for hours. How are you friend? Wet from the rain I see.”
“I came here to dry up. I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all! In this heat your fancy clothes will be dry in no time. Here, you can put them over there. Warm enough to dry, not hot enough to burn.” He points next to the engines levers.
“Do you have a towel or something I could use to cover myself?”
“Sure, but why do you need to do that?” I am not about to strip naked in front of any guy, I do not care if it’s a frisking griffin. Nor am I about to start the whole nudity conversation again.
“I would feel more comfortable if I am not naked. So can I use it?”
“Of course! Here come with me.” He stands up and starts to walk deeper in to the room. Following him, we come over to a small makeshift bed hidden by the crates. The bed seems to be one of those metal carrying beds with a white thin mattress, one deep green pillow and bed sheet on it. Fuma picks up the bed sheet and hands it to me.
“It’s going to be hot in here for some time so I don’t need this for tonight. You can have it.” Besides the fact that he used this sheet for sleep and is probably not vary hygienic, he still gave something I could use. And it is big enough for me to cover myself more than just my waist.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You can change here while I go keep an eye on the engine.” And I thought I would have to go somewhere else or make him turn away for this part.
I try to take of my clothes quickly; however every movement I make begins to take more effort than it should. Finally striping off all my clothes I wrap myself in the sheet and carry my clothes over to the place near the lever. The gloves are too wet to ignore so I have to leave them to dry. I am not entirely certain, I think Fuma is staring at my hands as I walk over. Setting my clothes down in the best way I can without them having to be spread out or my underwear showing, I sit down by a wall nearby with my back resting on it.
“You look more tired and then usual, maybe you want to go and rest up a bit while your clothes dry up?”
“That would be nice. I will stay here if that is alright.” My voice betrays my tired state as it is good to be out of those wet clothes, even if my hair and body is still somewhat wet.
“Sure, if you want. I’ll be real quit and the light from the fire shouldn’t be too much of a bother for you. Why don’t you go and lie down on my bed, I need to keep on watching the engine for a short time anyway.”
I do not bother answering him or even listening to him anymore as I lie down on the floor with the wall to my back. My whole body feels tired and sluggish with a continuing throbbing in my head. I do not care about anything anymore, I just want to sleep and not think about anything. The sight of everything around me just pisses me off. I close my eyes and hope that I could get some rest. And if I do fall asleep, maybe it would not be too bad if I do not wake up from it.
Author's Note
I do not really need to say that shit happened, you get the idea.
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
“Hey buddy, come on wake up.” A voice sounding to my left ear and a hand on my shoulder shaking me lightly are the first sensory feelings that I am aware of. Followed by the hardness of the floor on which I am lying down on and the thin bed sheet covering my naked body. I can barely feel the movement of the ship on the water. Then comes the feeling of semi moist hair clinging to my face uncomfortably along with the usual tiredness from waking up. My head still hurts however enough for me to ignore it and to sit up to look at my surroundings.
Almost every time that I open my eyes, regret and the desire to close them follows immediately. I am still in the engine room of a wooden ship maned by cartoon griffins out in the ocean of a made up world. Yea, I regret waking up. Fuma is standing in front of me with his right claw still on my shoulder, my body is mostly covered by the sheet and only some parts of me are exposed. None of the important parts thankfully.
“Oh good, your awake.” He has that big smile on his face again.
“How long was I asleep?” It feels as though I barely slept an hour.
“Just a couple of hours. Two or three maybe.” Letting go of my shoulder he remains seated on his back legs in front of me. Almost unnoticeably looking over whatever he can see.
Sleep, so peaceful and calm it is almost like one does not even exist or ever even had. I remember the surgery I had not too long back about a year ago before any of this shit happened. The anesthesia they gave me had put me to sleep like I have never felt before. I am usually aware of me lying in my bed and the twists and turns that I do while sleeping. However, I literally passed out and felt like almost instantly I woke up after. During that time I felt nothing, it was as if I was not alive or conscious and it was the best rest I have ever had in my entire life. I remember reading how Edgar Allan Poe had once called them 'little slices of death,' how I envy them sometimes. It would have been better if I have not woken up at all, or ever again.
Fuma is sitting and watching me, almost as though he is studying whatever he can see. My right arm and shoulder along with some exposed part of my chest and my right leg below the knee. I sit up more properly with my back leaning on the wall and legs crossed, the left foot is sticking out from the cover and most of my chest is hidden. His sights are focused on my arm and foot, probably thinking over how different my body looks from anything else he has ever seen. Either that or he is looking over my accessories. He should probably know what leather looks like, makes me wonder how he views such things on me.
“Why did you wake me up?” I do not care how he perceives my tone of voice, I am too tired to care.
“It's morning, well really its past that. I let you sleep in a little, but if you want breakfast you should get up.” I almost said fuck breakfast, however I held it back. I do not need any issues coming up over some vulgar words that I am not even certain they know the meaning of. What would they even call it here? I know about the internet jokes with the word buck, however it cannot really be that. Can it? Whatever.
I am not hungry nor do I feel like eating. I would gladly try to go back to sleep for a couple of more hours, that is probably not going to happen. So we worked up until the morning, the sun rise was probably not long ago. Everyone else most likely is feeling like shit too, maybe even still sleeping like I was. What an asshole! If you see a guy who worked all night sleeping you don't wake him up for some bullshit like breakfast. This fucking sucks.
A sound grabs my attention as I hear foot steps coming from the stair case and Beak walks in a couple of seconds later. His eyes look somewhat tired with some grey circles under his eyes. He sees us and smiles while coming closer.
“Morning Beak. So how are you? Did you sleep well?” Fuma is the first to respond and with a question that should be obvious from just looking at Beak.
“Uh a little, still tired from last night. That storm was a big one, but its not the worst we ever had to go through. Right?”
“Yep. The old ship sure had a rough time last night. Say, did you get breakfast yet?”
“No, just woke up. I didn’t see Trav in bed and came down here looking for him.” He turns his head and looks down at me. I am not entirely sure what he sees, however I am certain that I look like a real mess with my unbrushed hair, semi naked form and probably angry face. Probably staring at me like Fuma was.
“Hey Trav. Did you sleep here all night?” I guess that is my new nickname for now, not the worst one I could have gotten.
“Only a few hours.” My voice is deep and tired as I yawn and place my right hand over my right eye. Putting slight pressure on areas that hurt helps lessen the pain. So he did not get much sleep either, at least he did not have some dick waking him up over breakfast.
“That must have been uncomfortable. Well come on, lets go get some food. Or do you still want some sleep?” At least he asked if I wanted to sleep instead of just assuming that I did not. In a way I got lucky that I even got to sleep an hour or two instead of not sleeping at all. Not like I will be able to go back to sleep now anyway.
“Sure. Let me get dressed first.” Taking hold of the cover and wrapping it safely around myself I stand up. With my shoulders and body covered I walk over to where my clothes are piled and inspect them. They are all dry and comfortably warm in my hand, that is good to know. My gloves have some slight tears under the thumbs along with loose threads. Not all that surprising, these gloves were meant for workouts and not for constant wearing into the wilderness. The water and rope pulling must have finally damaged them, too bad I do not have any sewing thread or needles. I could probably use the fishing line to try and fix them, a problem that I will deal with later. Maybe when we arrive to Avias I could buy the needed supplies to repair them. The pants are fine, the underwear is fine, the socks do not feel like cardboard anymore although there is still a light smell to them and there are some holes that will be annoying to deal with. Another problem for later. The shirt only has the small ripped off portion from when I had to stop my leg from bleeding. I should look into getting a new shirt or making a new one myself.
Picking up my clothes I turn to see that both Fuma and Beak were staring at me, again.
“What?” I do not bother with hiding my annoyance.
“N-nothing.” My question has caught them off guard or maybe it was my tone of voice as they both visibly flinched. Their faces took up worried expressions.
“You can go without me, I will come up when I am done.” Walking over to where Fuma had his little bed set up, I quickly begin getting dressed while out of their view.
“Ok. See you there... I guess.” I can barely hear what Beak says.
“Yea, don’t take too long.” Fuma said as the sound of them both moving out is heard. Getting dressed in warm clothes felt rather good after such a long time. It almost makes up for the fact that I am putting on dirty clothes again. Getting clothes wet and then drying them is not really washing. This just adds to the list of things that I want. All dressed up and warm leaves me feeling rather incomplete without my jacket. Ah crap, I left it on my bed in the barracks all night. I do not think that anyone would actually bother looking over my stuff last night seeing as how everyone must have been dead tired. Still, leaving behind my things like makes me rather paranoid. What if they found my knives or iphone, questions that I do not want to answer would come up. I run up the stairs all the way up to the barracks door, opening and going through the it I do not bother to slow down or try to walk quietly. Many of the beds are full with griffins still sleeping, some were even snoring in a stereotypical cartoon fashion.
Everything is as I have left it, even the sheet wrinkles stayed the same. Placing the jacket on my shoulders I feel more comfortable with it, I wore it for so long that it does not feel right without it. Next time I am keeping it on, screw the rain. Careful so to not be noticed or that anyone could see, I look over my inventory and see that everything is there. No missing knives, iphone is still there, multitool, shoes,belt bag, scarf, not even a single missing herb or leaf from the backpack. Again, I was paranoid over nothing. Placing everything back in my belt bag, I put it on , take down the shoes and then put them on. Note to self: wear shoes next time, everything will dry out anyway. My head does not hurt so much that I could not handle it and using any remaining medication leafs means that I will have less for when I will really need it. I have to try to save up as much as I can and only use them for emergencies. Keeping that in mind and leaving only the backpack behind, I go out of the room and close the door. The extra weight of my things feels slightly comforting as I walk in the hall. There is no line for the bathroom, so I should clean up before going to eat.
Going inside and closing the door, I take off the jacket and tie it at my waist so it would not be on the floor. The issue with always wearing gloves is that taking them off is annoying and time consuming. Wearing the gloves will only further damage them, I should at least wait until I can find a way to fix them. Placing them in my jacket's inner pocket, I turn on the cold water and wash my face in the sink. The cold water feels refreshing on my face as it helps wash away some of my remaining fatigue. My hair continues to get in the way as I have to lean forward to the sink, time to deal with the hair issue. The leather wire on my left hand is too thick to and loose to tie it up properly, it will only unravel and fall off in less than an hour. Same thing with the other leathers pieces, I could just braid them into a single tail and as long as I do not move around too much or something then it should hold for the rest of the day. There is the option of going over to Gazer and ask for a rubber band, however because it is still fairly morning and the majority of the crew is dead tired in their beds (like I should be) Gazer is probably sleeping. And no one wants to be bothered in the morning with stupid shit, I should know. One single long braid it is then. It would be easier if I had a come, grandma always nagged about how I should cary one around with me at all times. I guess she was right, although to be fair no one could have predicted this situation. My hair still being slightly moist from last night's rain helps in trying to brush my hair with my hands as best as I could, some stray hairs come off along with my hand. Having long hair means that they are more likely to fall off earlier, the nutrition intake changes with the extra length so they die off from lack of specific proper feeding. Keeping food in mind, my diet has not been great over the last couple of months. It is annoying to deal with falling off hair, not that I have a choice really. Brushing off the loose hairs I begin to start braiding the hair. I have not done this for a long time and yet each motion comes automatically from repetition. I used to let my grandmother do it for me, she would make it in the center and it would always be tight so that it would not untangle itself.
With that finished I have nothing to tie it up at the end, leather and string would just fall off so leaving it untied is all I can do. Taking out my iphone I look at the screen to see my reflection. The screen protector is clean and clear enough for me to see my face. Just as I thought, looking uglier every day. And the new hair style is not helping at all, the face looks rounded again. I am most likely going to wear the hood again and it is going to be hot today. Great, just another regular day of my life. Well might as well go to the bathroom while I am here. Opening the stall door, I look inside to find a European styled public bathroom that was basically a hole in the floor. Wow, I have not seen one of these in over eight years. So much for a toilet, oh well.
I feel like shit, I look like shit and my mood is shit. Oh yeah, I am at good start today. This is nothing new, if anything this is just a repetition of what life was like before. Minus the working on a ship in the storm with mythic creatures. Everything just seems so pointless and I mean more than just this trip. It feels like everything that I have ever done in my life was worthless and it is true. What the hell did I ever do in my life that made any difference in anything? All my life was wasted on things that have no value anymore, no meaning in this world. All that time spent worrying and pursuing things that I thought actually mattered, waisted years of youth. I starved myself by barely eating anything good and avoiding junk food, sweets and any other crap that people like. It is always the bad stuff and the things that will kill you that tastes good and feels good. All those things done and avoided so that I could have a good appealing figure, so that I would not be like all those fat disgusting cows that I see every time I leave the apartment. Being lean, athletic or muscular were the ideal body type's that everyone always wants and many strive for. It is considered to be one of the most desirable characteristics. Except that this view was not true and could almost be said to be bullshit especially when I notice really, really hot girls going out with ugly, skinny and or fat guys who look like they will role over if some tougher looking guy comes up and starts trouble. What was the appeal? What possible reasons could people have for making such strange and foolish decisions? I could not see it and I definitely could not understand it. Hours spent every seven days a week exercising and using excruciatingly hard techniques my personal trainer thought me that I named suicides because that is what they made me want to do when I exercised. After each suicide I followed with a regiment of different types of exercises, fitting in every major muscle group. Having followed this regiment for years it eventually lead up to my muscles growing and not feeling as much pain. I was really something back then, I had a great body even though I never thought that it was good enough, my mind was in the right place, everything about me was what everyone wanted and I do not care how narcissistic this sounds. It was all true. I have spent years of my youth and free time on such pursuits, even though never really getting much out of it. Never settling for me possibly being just like any other average asshole. No television, nothing that most would consider their average source of entertainment and relaxing time. No cheep fried food or sweets so that I would not add up the pounds or get even an ounce of extra fat. No drinking so that I do not loose any brain cells and act like a retard as so many others do when they get drunk, this is a bad excuse by the way due to the fact that on average we loose about a hundred thousand brain cells a day anyway. All those times going into bars and lounges now seem like wasted opportunities. Hell, I was cheap as fuck to myself; I did not waist money on my self or the things that I wanted. Always reasoning that I did not need any of those things, that the joy I would get out of them would be temporary and that I would regret for waisting my money. The knives were exceptions because pocket money for me was twenty or less dollars.
Exercise, reading, self improvement and any other small things that I enjoyed and did for one reason or another. Having all of my years worth of hard work lost in just a few months, well it hurts. It really fucking hurts. Knowing all of that really makes me angry. No, not just angry, I am fucking furious! I want to break something, smash through a wall, to kill something! Anything! And yet I just sit here in this makeshift mini cafeteria raging in my head while my body is calm with no sign of any distress. Why the hell do I bother with trying to keep myself in check? For these freaking chicken/cat hybrids? I actually wish they would start a fight, annoy me or anything else that would allow me to beat the shit out of one of them. Even in my anger, I can not stop thinking rationally. Sometimes I just want to go in to a blinding fit of rage with no thinking, not concerning myself with the consequences or the outcomes from it. I am even deprived of something as simple as anger, because I cannot stop thinking clearly unless I am either too freaking tired, malnourished or some other shit. If I start a fight or any kind of trouble then I will only make things worse for myself.
What is the point of anything anymore? I am but a husk of what I once was, I am nothing now. I am less than nothing. I always knew the truth, hell I even admitted it myself. I am waste of potential. I could have become anything if I really wanted, do anything, achieve anything. And yet all of that potential was waisted. My parents knew it, and I think that out of all the things that I have ever done to make them upset they were most disappointed by that fact. To know that something really amazing could have beed done and yet never utilized out of sheer stupidity and laziness. That is what I am, an insult to their whole lives. I wish I was never born. All of my anger and rage has changed into depression and disappointment. Great, now I think my depression is coming back and my headache might be making an encore appearance. It is like the universe decided to give me one strong kick right between my legs and the then left the foot there.
“Hey blondie. How's your morning?” I felt a hand on my shoulder as those words came out. Blondie? Where the hell do people always get blond from? My hair is light brown, not blond! I hate it when people say that I am blond, something to do with how the light hits my hair and makes it look blond. I turn to look at the one who has his claw on me. I do not know what he saw on my face however it was apparently enough to make the guy's eyes widen and an almost scared look appear o his face. I do not think that I was scowling too much or bearing my teeth at him, then again I do not feel much of anything at the moment.
“Uh, s-sorry about that. Um, nice mane style?” Mane? Really? It is rather pathetic to see them so worried that they might piss me off or something. It is as if they are not confident in themselves or they forgot the fact that they outnumber me. Hell, they have eagle claws and the mass of a lion (I think) and all I have are arms and legs. Plus the weapons that I am not really supposed to have on the ship.
“It is called a hairstyle and I am not blond. It only looks like that.” I could explain how my hair looks differently because of the lighting, however I do not feel like going into a small lecture about such simple things.
“Ok... so..hows your morning?” Does he not have anything better to do then to pester me in the freaking morning when it is obvious that I do not want to talk right now? What am I thinking? Anything less of me either having to scream at his face or spelling it out will not work. I think that I preferred when they were still cautious around me and kept their distance. At least then I did not have to talk to them.
“Tiresome.”
“Yea. After last night I just fell down on my bed like a sack of bricks.” And just like that his mood is suddenly all happy again. How did he do that? Meh, who cares. Sack of bricks? Do bricks ever come in sacks? Is that even a real expression? And if he obviously knows how tired I am then why the fuck would he bother me?
“Hey, if we are all tired and the rest are sleeping. Then why is breakfast being made now?” If the guy feels like talking and wasting my time, then he should at least say something of value.
“Well you can thank mister 'I don’t work on the deck' over there,” He points with a mocking sneer at the chef behind the counter who is seemingly oblivious to our conversation. “he didn’t have to go help out last night so he slept through the whole night. And he has this rule where if you don’t make it to breakfast on time then you only get whats leftover.” Huh, sound like someone from the military. I would sometimes go for days without eating so skipping a meal or two would not really be a big deal for me.
“Yes!” The chef suddenly spoke out loudly, some griff's got startled and turned to him. “And for those of you who decided to wake up get to eat all the fresh pancakes you want.” Apparently he was not as unaware to our little conversation as I have thought. Those words seem to lighten up the mood as smiles and small cheers came out from the griffins present, so that is what he was cooking. Not bad, almost makes up for not sleeping enough. I have not eaten any pancakes for a vary long time. And since it is all you can eat then I guess this gives me an excuse to pig out. Might as well, not like I am going to get any better at any time soon.
“Trav, why are you sitting there all alone for? Come here and hang with us.” Beak calls out siting with the rest while the guy who had his claw on my should walks off and sits down with the rest of the small group.
Their eyes have a look of hope I think, and a little doubt. Hard to tell. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? Hell, I did not get this much attention back home as I do here. You would think that if the guys are cautious around me they would stay away and give me my space, well apparently not. This is mostly Beak's and Fuma's fault, their friendly attitude is rubbing off on the rest. Might as well, maybe their stupid cartoon faces and antics will lift up my mood. Probably not.
“Sure.” I try to keep my voice deep and calm. Getting up and walking over to the group, Beak moves to his left to make some space for me as the guy next to him follows his example. I was going to sit at the edge or slightly further to them. Now I am almost in the middle, this would usually be rather awkward in some other situation. Apparently not in this one.
“Hey what you do to your mane?” Beak asks as I sit down. Well I saw that one coming.
“It is called hair and I braided it so that it would not get in my eyes.” I place my right elbow on the table and my head on my hand. This is feels repetitive.
“You look kinda weird like that.” One griffin sitting opposite from me spoke up.
“It is only temporary.” I do not even bother to look at anyone particularly.
“Why not just cut it if it gets in your eyes?” Another one spoke up from besides me as two of the others nodded their heads.
“Because I do not feel like it. It is only for a short time anyway.”
“Ready! Come and get some!” Right when I was just about to close my eyes, the chef spoke out form behind the counter. Again, getting up along with the rest, we quickly form a small line at the counter as the chef gives out the food.
“When you're done, don’t be shy and come for more. Doesn’t' matter if it is seconds or twenty-thirds.” The cook call out as he gives the tray's with food to each griffin. Twenty-thirds? That is sorta funny. I am not certain, however I think that I am smiling.I can not really tell, does not mater. My turn comes up and he hands over the tray with a smile.
“Hope you like the pancakes.” I can not really be angry at him for something that he has nothing to do or be involved with. I give him an honest smile, or at least I try to as I take the tray
“Thank you, I will.” He smiles even more back as I move to the table and sit down. The cartoon pancakes look like what you would expect cartoon pancakes to look like. There are five of them stacked on top of each other on my plate along with a fork and a butter knife on the tray. One of the griffins who got his meal first took a bottle of syrup and placed it on the table for everyone. I could definitely use the glucose for my brain. Taking the bottle and pouring a generous amount of it on the pancakes, I cut a piece off and try it. Ignoring the fact that this is some cartoon drawing that I am eating, the pancake tastes delicious. It really was a long time since I had something like this. I close my eyes and savor the taste as I chew the piece. It almost makes me want to sigh in pleasure, almost. Opening my eyes I see that one of the griffins at the far end left corner is looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Once he realized that I was not amused, he quickly turns back to his plate with haste. Little bitch.
I continue to eat as the rest of the griffins get off the line, take their seats and begin to eat. As always conversation arises in between bites amongst the others, I don not pay attention to them. Food, something that most never really think about beyond the prospect of what they are going to eat or at what specific time and place. I almost never feel hunger, even during my time in the forest. Yet I wonder about what things I will never be able to eat or ever try again. Some foods cannot be made without the proper equipment, or at least not vary well. Not that I could make any of them even if I wanted. Besides some basic food recipes and barbeque preparations there is not much else that I could do. I was raised on my grandmother's cooking, everything she ever made always tasted great. And it was homemade so it was not that big of a deal when considering what I eat. That is something that I will miss. While on the topic of my grandmother, how is she? How is my mother doing? Maybe they finally made some peace with one another after such a life changing event. How have things changed if at all? Probably nothing has changed, the world keeps on spinning regardless of who dies or disappears in my case. How did my parent take my sudden disappearance? I think we were on good terms for that week so I did not leave with an argument behind or any hurt feelings. That would have caused guilt for my parents as situations like these stereotypically do. Was there an investigation? Had to be, my parents would have raised hell itself to find me. Kind of makes things worse after knowing that. Oh crap. I did not delete my internet history in a long time. I just hope the police I.T. guy who goes through my pc does not feel the need to reveal to my parents just what is on it. Probably will, what a fucking asshole. Now I know that I probably broke my parents hearts even more. Well, maybe my grandmother's. Mom already knew about the shit on my computer. Still wish I could have deleted it or even better, throw the whole damn thing out the fucking window with no chance of survival. That would have been way better.
As I ea, some small peaces of conversation are heard from the griffins talking amongst themselves. Mostly about the food and yesterdays weather.
“Boy that was some storm last night! I sure wish we had some time to put on our raincoats before running out into it...” The rest became irrelevant as the mention of raincoats became my the subject of my thoughts. They had raincoats on the ship... You have got to be fucking kidding me. I went out into the storm and exposed my self to the possibility of getting sick only to realize that they could have given me a fucking raincoat?! There could have been easily a spare so there would not be any bullshit as why I could not have gotten one. Alright fine, lets not loose it right now. They were all in a hurry and everyone got hit by the rain so nobody was getting off. The idea that there could have been some protection form the rain and water just makes it... uhh just freaking annoying.
I finish eating my food and while I do feel rather satisfied, I could definitely go for some more. I get up, pick up my tray and walk back to a new forming line of griffins waiting for seconds. My turn comes up quickly as everyone gets what they want and goes back to sit down.
“So you do like them. I am glad, come back again for as much as you want.” A new stack is placed on on my plate.
“They are delicious. Thank you.” Going back to my seat, taking the bottle again and pouring syrup I continue to gorge myself with the delicious food. The subject of the raincoats is easily left behind as the notion of great food takes precedence. Where will my mind wander to now? What exactly will I do once the ship arrives at it's destination? What will I have to deal with once there? I am well aware that there will be looks from the locals and I can not blame them, it is not every day that you see something completely foreign to you. My sword and other weapons might get me into trouble. I do not know the laws and customs of the gryphon lands. Carrying a sword may be illegal or I might need some special papers or permission. That is something I need to investigate before we arrive, Gazer is due for a visit today. However he was with the rest of us on the deck all night and he barely gets any sleep as it is. Perhaps later in the day when he is rested. Then again, some of the more talkative crew members might be willing to inform me about such things. Perhaps a certain gryphon who seems to have a reputation for walking in to walls face first. From what little I know about him, he lives where I am going and he is more than willing to partake in a conversation. Slightly bit more eager for my taste however it can not be helped. With that in mind, I should not ask him about weapon laws anywhere near the others so that they may not overhear some things that do not concern them. I will have to wait when he is done eating and away from the rest. What will I have to deal with in the long run? There is no point in even trying to believe in any delusions of a simple life, things are just too different for any kind of simplicity. I think that this is what most people overlook when they think about going to other worlds or Equestria in this particular example. Out of boredom I have read my fare share of online fan fiction and other crap. The human, mostly male with an age from mid-teens to mid-twenty's, usually giving a vague physical description, sometimes made to be anonymous so that the readers could pretend that they are that character or something. Ending up either in Ponyville or Canterlot with or without a specific reason. For some weird reason having the main six character involved instead of some random other individual or maybe even someone that was actually trained to communicate with foreign countries like a diplomat. Some small issues arise, then things start going on about in making a life and then all the other bullshit. What I found rather interesting is that the writer often assumes that a good life in this new world can actually be made for that human. This is a different world, for all intense and superposes it is nothing like the earth from which they came. The idea that the ponies or whatever would just accept a human being, some creature that they never even seen yet alone heard of, after some time or some “good deed” is just not vary plausible. The whole love and tolerance thing is crap. To tolerate does not mean that they have to like it, they just have to not show their distaste so obviously. In order to make the whole acceptance thing happen on such a massive scale would literally would have to be done by something outside of humanity to even come near the idea. Which obviously they were created to be portrayed that way. Sure there are the assholes in those stories who are meant to be the antagonists with closed minded tendencies, however in reality those assholes are the normal ones and are more common. In reality, any average human being will never fit in into that world, never truly be a part of it or be one of them. The transformation stories leave out so many issues that come with that, like would a whole population really accept something that was once a different being. Maybe some, however most would not. Hell, the more brighter ones would chastise the being for abandoning his species, betraying who and what he once was. The best anyone could ever hope for in those situations is that the population would eventually forget about the differences and get used to them. That is nor realistic nor possible, not even in a world that was made for it. Enough of that, never really liked most of the stories anyway.
I should have asked the cook if he had any coffee, I am beginning to thirst for something warm. Even if he does have coffee I like to drink mine with milk and sugar and those things are probably not present on this ship. Tea would be nice, I have not had that for some time. I will ask after my meal is complete and maybe even go for another serving. I really should not over eat, yesterday was a good indication that my body is not used to large quantities of food so soon. Those manticore pieces were rich in proteins, in reality they could have caused more damage then a simple stomach ache. The manticore, I still have its fangs in my jacket. And now I want to take one out and examine it up close. What would happen if I showed them to someone, however why would I? Revealing them and telling how I got them would serve no purpose other than to show off and probably make them even more curious and cautious around me. Or even consider me a threat and take up arms against me. Not worth the trouble.
When I really think about everything regarding my whole situation, I find it all to be rather depressing. Not just how things are in this world, however how my life was like before my arrival here. A rather unpleasant past year overall. Getting depressed for a whole year with no known reason or cause, having a constant feeling of tiredness and lethargy following me day after day. It had gotten so bad that my school work had started to take atoll on me. To an extend where I could not even find a reason to bother with getting up in the morning. I got … in trouble at college that year. The fallout of that haunts me even to this day regardless of how far away I am from it all. That is nothing new to me, I always remember my past mistakes, humiliations and moments that are just down right fucked up. Usually those memories come out suddenly and without warning followed by a hollow feeling in my stomach and some strong flinching in the shoulders. I guess I am just disappointed at how things turned out. I was not an angel nor a down right asshole scumbag by any means, however I definitely did not deserve something like this to happen to me. It all starts with one thing then you just stand back to see how the time swings by, turning moments into days as the clock tick's life away. That is how it is for most people, some try to change things, make them better, fight for something more in life. I certainly have tried and alright, I will admit it that sometimes I have succeeded so it is not all that bad and depressing. Only thing is that the times that I or anyone else for that matter have won do not really add up in the long run and when counting up the score, almost everyone losses in the end. I tried, I really did try to hold on however it just feels like I have wasted it all. And now I am holding on to that memory of a time I tried so hard. No point in thinking about such things anymore, it does not really matter. Not anymore.
Why me? That is one of the many questions that has plagued me for some time now. Out of all the people that his could have happened to why me? I certainly never thought that something like this would happen or even could happen in my lifetime. How many people would have wished to be in my spot right now? People who so pathetically dream and beg for such a thing to happen to them. Those are the poor sad bastards that should be allowed for something like this to happen to. And maybe... not necessarily the bad experiences. Maybe some poor weaklings who's lives are just shit, with hopelessness and sadness drowning them on a daily basis. For them to go out into a cartoon world like what they saw on the show and let them have the false happiness they so desperately desire. A world where the sun bitch would grant them a home and give them a life that they always wanted. I feel no pity for such people, pathetic weaklings who could not stand the pressure of the world and had succumbed to being nothing, doorstops or just some foot-mats for those who would step on them. And yet, out of all the people who deserve to go to other worlds for better lives it is them that should have that possibility. The weak, the sad and the poor. I am not one of those, I am nothing like those people. I do not deserve to be here.
“Oh that was good! I am so full!” My thoughts are interrupted by some jackass exclaiming loudly. Many of the others nod and agree with his statement, as though anyone really cares for others opinions about such things. At least I am not thinking about the past or any depressing thoughts anymore, my mood is shit as it is. No point in making it any worse.
Finishing the last of my meal, I get up again and go to the counter. It seems as though some of the sleeping crew members have woken up and are now enjoying whatever they can get. There is no one at the line as I near to it.
“Back for more?” The cook... Marks! That is his name, comes up to the other side of the counter.
“No, I think that I am full. Thank you.” Placing the tray on the counter. “Is there a chance that you would have any coffee or maybe tea to drink?”
“Oh, sorry no. We ran out of both of them a couple day's ago before you came up. We didn’t restock any of it because we were not far away from our next docking spot. It would have been cheeper to buy all of them there than in any of Equestria's ports. We have some soda left if you like?” Well that was rather informative, even if I only asked if he had any coffee or tea. When was the last time I drank any soda? I think it was two or three years ago, no point in breaking that record.
“No thanks. Can I have some water?”
“Of course! One moment.” He quickly takes out a glass and a bottle of water. Pouring in water to the top, he hands me the glass. The water is not transparent, it almost never is. Instead is a light blue color. And yet it tastes as water does, perhaps I should be surprised that I have not gone mad yet. Then again, who is to say that I am not already insane.
“Thank you. You need any help?” I should still try to make myself useful, at least for decency.
“Oh no, no, no. No work for you today, go and rest. I heard that last night was vary hard.” Well I did ask and now I have time to myself. Except that I have nothing to do with it.
“As you will. Thank you for the breakfast.”
“Your welcome.”
It seems that Beak is still eating and talking with the rest. He sees me and waves his hand at me, I acknowledge it with a nod and leave the room. What should I do now? I will not be able to sleep for a long time and with food in my system it would be even harder to try and sleep, at least right now I do not feel as bad as I previously had. Some fresh air would be good for me, to clear out my thoughts. A short walk up to the deck and I see that the sun has risen already. It is weird, the idea that the one who forsaken me to a forest that promises death (or at least made to seem like it did) rises the sun over my head. I never liked the sun, it annoys me to no end. At least now I have a face to go with my annoyance. I wish that Chrysalis had killed her when she had the chance. Oh well, nothing can be done about that now. The deck is covered in some big puddles, just enough to leave an indication that there was rain. I walk up the right side of the ship and lean forward on the railing. The air is filled with salt as the ocean has calmed down greatly since last night. There are some clouds that cover parts of the sky, the colors are horribly sharp with no sigh of blending or shading. Not to mention that they are too close to ground level, at this elevations the clouds would not be able to sustain their form and would have condensed in to water. And just like before this world ignores physics and gives it the middle finger.
I guess I could try and actually relax seeing as how I have nothing else to do. Maybe draw something, I have not done that for some time. I wonder, if I were to draw one of the gryphons would the drawing be close enough to be almost like a photo for them? It would be less of a drawing and more of a tracing of something that I see. It might answer the question of how they see themselves, as the cartoon world looks like or maybe something else. I would need a subject to draw, it would take maybe a minute however I would need him to stay still for that. My best bet for that is in the cafeteria, although coming back there will definitely result in me being observed as I obviously draw something. I swear it gets awkward every time I am in the same room with a large number of them. It does not matter, I just need to hold on for a short time more and then it will be over. Maybe I should just draw some random pony and see how they react to that, it should produce the same results anyway so who cares. Taking out the paper that I wrote on from before, I consider of getting a pencil. The ink in the pen is not unlimited and a pencil could at least be easily replaced when it is all used up. That would mean I would have to ask Gazer and he is currently either still sleeping or stuffing his face with the rest of them. Great, now I have to wait for some time. At least I am left alone and not bothered right now.
The sound of the doors opening reaches my ears. Turning to the door, I see Beak walking in with a searching look in his eyes. As he notices me he smiles and lightly runs up to me, he seems a little too exited to see me. So much for being left alone.
“Hey I found you. Why are you here?”
“Had nowhere better to go. Is there something you wanted?”
“Just thought that you might want a little company to talk to,” Oh how wrong you are. “Why didn’t you go to the barracks or the engine room?” Because there was nothing there except heat and some sleeping crew members.
“I felt like breathing in some fresh air”
“Oh, ok.”
Silence follows his last word and I have no intention of changing it. Beak walks up to my right side and takes up a forward leaning position on the railing like me. Nothing is being said and the only sound audible is the ocean below us, it is nice.
It is strange, how I always find him trying to be nice to me. Maybe it is the paranoia however I find his behavior towards me to be rather suspicious. Could he have an ulterior motive for wanting to interact with me? Is he just playing the fool so is to not arouse suspicion? Or am I just getting myself worked up over nothing? Forget it, just drop the topic.
“What can you tell me about Avias?”
“Its an average sized city, although most would confuse it for a town because they only first see the docks and the houses near them. The real city goes on up to the mountains where the old homes are.” A city near the mountains, I can only guess as to what kind of style the houses are built in. It is probably an old city that started a long time ago, so there are probably not manny tall buildings or even sky scrapers.
“Are there any laws regarding weapons like sword or anything like that?” That question caused him to raise his right eyebrow. Does that even count as an eyebrow? I mean his face is covered in feathers so why or how would he have... I am doing it again, damn it. I have got to stop thinking about these things.
“Not that I know of any, only the guards cary around swords or spears. Why do you ask?” Well that answer is not vary satisfying, Gazer might be of better use for that question.
“Just curious. So, what are you going to do when you get back home?” A quick change of topic to throw him off from any possible suspicions he might start to develop, although something tells me that he is not really capable of forming any suspicions from what I can tell about spending time with him.
“Thats nice.” And once again the deck became quiet. I could ask him about the points of interest regarding the city, he should at least know know that seeing as how he lives there. Although there might not be much of a point in that. Even if he did tell me I doubt that I would go to many of those places, or even care about them. I do want to go to the library if the city has one, it should have one. I want to see the worlds history and science books, just get myself familiar with the worlds past and level of knowledge. Or maybe just try to understand the the current events of the world and see how it came up to be what it is. Maybe I could find regarding the alicorns, the show did not really give much on that topic. Then again the show was never really meant to be dissected to such an extent. It was meant for the entertainment of small children with no questions asked regarding the structure of its world.
“So... what do you think of the ship and rest of the guys?” Beaks voice brought me out of my thoughts, he is looking over the ocean in the same leaning position as he was before.
“The ship is fine, the rest are alright too. Why do you ask?”
“Its just that a lot of the guys feel like you have been giving them the cold shoulder. You were so quiet the whole time you were here and you always look like you’re angry at something.” More like angry at everything.
“I did not exactly have a good week before this.” Not really all that bad except for the insomnia and manticore attack. Could have been worse.
“What happened?”
“Shi-stuff happened.” Damn it, I thought that I was better then that. Almost said something that could have been problematic. Great, now I have to censor my self. This is kindergarden all over again.
“What kind of stuff?”
“Nothing important, just some annoying things I had to take care of. Don’t worry about it.” I wonder what would be his reaction to me telling him that I had killed a manticore in the Everfree forest. Would he be offended because he is kind of related to it due to the whole lion part thing? That would be interesting to see. “How much longer before we reach the city?”
“Well the storm last night actually pushed us further to where we are going to, so we will be there even faster. Maybe in a couple of hours.” He shrugged as he said that.
“Cool.” He turned to look at me when I said that. Probably did not expect that from me. “What?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to say something like that.” Called it. That actually made me smile. Enough so that he would notice and start smiling himself. I cannot really say that this trip was all that bad, almost. Eh, who am I kidding? It was horrible.
A moment passes by before beak turns to me and asks.
“Say I kind of wanted to ask you something. What does that red R on your strange bag or whatever it is there stand for?” He points his left claw at my belt bag. The anarchy styled letter R patch that I had gotten some time ago back home. It was just something I sewed on my belt bag because I liked how it looked. It was actually from a video game that while I enjoyed had received some bad reviews. It had free running, guns and a post apocalypse oriented story. Who does not like games like that?
“Resistance.”
“Resistance? Against what?” Confusion and curiosity is clear in his voice so such an extent that I do not even need to turn to look at him to know that he looks confused.
“Resistance against oppression, tyranny and anything else that forces others against their will.” Some dramatic words for the hell of it, not like many people actually try to live up to the symbols that they carry on themselves. If anything people only walk around with a bunch of signs from a video game because they think that the signs and symbols look cool. Although I agree with the notion to fight against those who try to take away freedom form others and oppress the people. I hate those who think they are stronger and powerful then others enough to terrorize and hurt people. Hate enough to kill them.
“Wow. That is deep. Are you like a soldier or something?” How the hell was any of that deep? He is looking at me with a big smile and wide eyes, a look of... expectation I think? I am not a soldier, not even close. I do not really think that I could ever be a soldier, I have issues with authority and people telling me what to do. Now that I think about it, I have a really long history of that. I could just lie and tell him I am a soldier or something, then again what would be the point? All I am now is just a traveler who can fight and probably will do somethings for money that uses my skills. Does that not make me a mercenary? I am getting full of my self, just because I killed a few things here and there does not make me into some badass mercenary. Eh, who cares?
“Something like that.”
“That is so cool! I bet you have like a ton of awesome stories to tell!” Ah shit, I should have just kept my mouth shut. This is what I get for talking when I should have just stayed quiet and not draw attention. Well, at least try to draw less attention then I already am.
“No, not really.” He looks slightly disappointed before his face light up again.
“Well I bet you do.” He is almost like a child arguing about him being right regarding something even if he is wrong. It is almost like he is daring me to say that I do not so that we could go back and forth at it like little kids.
“Whatever.” Let him think whatever he wants, it is not like I will have to care for such things much longer.
As we stand there, the minutes go by and some griffins come out on to the deck. The sunlight is starting to annoy me so I take out my sunglasses and put them on. The weather seems decent and not too cold, although these things tend to change rapidly and without warning so I better be careful. I wonder if Gazer is awake and if he had eaten anything yet. Might as well go and see, it would give me something to do. Standing up at full hight I turn around.
“I am going to go see how the captain is doing. See you later.” I walk to the door as his voice called out.
“See ya!”
Through the door and down the stairs to the captains door I walk. Taking off my glasses and placing them in my pocket, I knock on the door three times. It seems as though he is either sleeping or already eating, this leaves me with nothing much else to do. I guess then that I will have to wait for my rubber band and pencil some what longer. Unless Beak might have one, I should have ask him before. Turning around and starting to walk back up to the the deck I hear the door behind me being opened. Looking back I see Gazer opening the door and looking at me.
“Morning. You knocked?” He does not seem tired or irritated that I am here, nor does his voice carry any edge of agitation or tiredness.
“Good morning, sorry if I am bothering you.”
“No no, it is alright. Is there something you wanted?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any rubber bands and a pencil that I could borrow, would you?”
“I don’t know about the rubber bands, Im going to have to go and take a look. And I have a pencil you could use. What do you need them for?” He scratched his head with his left claw as he spoke.
“The rubber band is for tying up my hair and the pencil is just for some small writing.” I do not think that telling him that I want to draw would help in me getting a pencil from him. He most likely uses them for drawing courses and mapping out shipping routs.
“Your hair?” A confused look appears on his face, I point toward my head. His attention goes up to my head as he notices my current hairstyle. His face takes on a rather strange look of either curiosity or surprise, or maybe both it is hard to tell.
“Your mane or hair looks like its tied up already. And why would you need to tie it up anyway?”
“My hair is long and it gets into my eyes. Besides, the braid I made will not hold for long, I need something more long term like a rubber band.”
“If its long then why not just cut it off?” Great, it is just like back home where everyone used to tell me to go and cut my hair. I am probably going to be hearing that a lot more later on.
“Because I like having my hair long.” He rubs his chin or the bottom of his beak or whatever. Then he shrugs his shoulders.
“Alright come in and give me a moment while look for some.” He turns back to his office as I walk inside.
“Close the door will you.”
“Sure.” Closing the door behind me I see Gazer looking through his desk drawers. A good opportunity for me to ask him some questions while he is doing that. “I was told that we are going to be near Avias soon.”
“Yes, the storm helped us push the ship in the right direction. We should be there in a few hours.” Good to know, although the idea of arriving on a different country that I have no knowledge of does leave me with some concerns that I should have probably addressed earlier. “I saw you on the bridge last night. You did great work out there, makes me feel bad for not paying you.” The compliment came out of nowhere. Not exactly great work if all I did was pull on ropes along with the others.
“Do not worry about it, it is fine. We already talked about this.” He simply hummed in agreement as he continued to open drawers and look inside. Back to the questions.
“Are there any weapon laws that I should be aware of?” That made him look up from the current desk rummaging. “Namely the ones concerning my sword.”
“You should be fine as long as you don’t go about waving it around others or causing any trouble.” Not exactly an assuring answer.
“Should be?”
“Im not gonna lie to you. Your looks are definitely going to get you noticed and having a sword with you is not going to make things any better. The guards might just pay more attention to you , but as long as you mind your own business and stay clear of any trouble then you should be fine.” He did not say anything that was new to me, I already know what to expect. At least he is giving decent advise.
“There you go! Found one.” He takes out a simple white greyish rubber band from his desk drawer and hands it to me. It seems to be about twice as thick then a usual ribber band so it should last longer and not break too easily.
“Thank you.”
“Your welcome.”
Unwinding the already loose braided hair, I take the makeshift hair scrunchie and begin to tie it. The issue with rubber bands is that because of the rubber texture they often make it uncomfortable to tie hair with them. Instead of tying up my entire hair, I only tie up the top portion of my front into a pony tail so that the back remains free and the hair would not get into my face and eyes. With that done I will not have to worry about my hair for some time now. Gazer was standing and watching the whole time while I was tying my hair. I honestly do not know what could possibly be so interesting for him to look at how I fix my hair. He had to have seen hundreds of ponies with different hairstyles so this should not really be all that new to him.
“Huh. That looks a little better, although I still think you should probably get that cut.” He comments before returning to look back into his desk drawers.
“I will consider it.” Probably not. Gazer takes out a pencil from the first drawer and hands it to me. A simple cartoon light brown colored pencil with an eraser on top. The pencils tip is blunt and it is thicker near the end rather then near the base from where led comes out. The pencil itself is about twice the usual of an average pencil, probably so that they would not bee too hard to hold for ponies, griffins and whatever else uses pencils. Not as sharp I am used to for drawing, then again an electronic sharpener tends to make better work then the old small pencil sharpeners that were before. This pencil will have to do for me to waste some time before the ship arrives to Avias.
“Thank you.” Apparently that one question regarding the weapons was all that I had. I cannot think of any good questions right now for me to ask. The majority would involve history and some background information about the world, which I am guessing would seem rather strange if not suspicious to the captain, the library at Avias might be my best bid for that information. Although he might not really care seeing as how he had given me passage on his ship regardless of what I am and accepting the fact that I did not give him my real name. No, it is better that I do not risk it. Everyone has their limits and I am not in the mood to try and find out what might be his.
“Your welcome. Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you. That is all I need.”
“You sure? How about some paper for your 'small writing'?” He actually did the quote signs with his claws as he mentioned the small writing. He saw through my lie, I guess he is more clever then I originally thought.
“Yes...I could use some more paper.” Might as well get more space to draw something and pass the time faster. He pull out one sheet from under a stack of papers on his desk before passing it on to me.
“Here, next time don’t be shy about it and tell me what you want. Oh and you can keep the pencil.” He smiles to me as he says those words. It seems strange to me how he though that I was being shy. If anything I was trying to be polite and not bother him. It does not mater now. I got a free pencil so now I will not have to buy or steal one later.
“Thank you very much.” A smile to show my gratitude.
“Don’t mention it and don't forget we will be docking soon so you should probably get ready for that.” Not like I have all that much to do except pick up my things and leave.
“Will do and thank you again. I will see you later then.”
“See you around, ” With that being said and done, I might as well go.
Leaving the room and closing the door I head back up on to the deck. The sun is too bright for my liking so I put on my glasses again. There are five griffins on the deck, they hanging out and talking by the mast. I notice that Beak is amongst them and has not seen me seeing as how his back is facing me. Since they are just standing and talking they make for good drawing subjects. Now I just need to find a good place from where I can draw. The deck floor still looks like it is wet so sitting on it may not be a good idea and going anywhere near them would just make it too troublesome with their curiosity and possibly apprehensive behavior about me. The corner near the ship where I can see them looks like the best location. I can lean on the rails if the floor there is too damp. Walking over to it I find the floor to be not all that bad, good enough to sit without having to worry about any wet stains on my ass afterwards. Without a hard surface the pencil and paper that are still in my hand would be rather hard to use properly. I am going to have to use one of my thighs as a surface like I used to do back home whenever I needed a place to draw. Placing the paper on my right thigh I look on at the still talking griffins. I am going to have to be vary careful so that I do not puncture the paper with the pencil. The pencil head is too blunt for me to make smooth lines, I am partially tempted to take out a knife and try to sharpen the tip; however that would be foolish seeing as how it would be an unnecessary risk. Simply make do with what I have. It is not hard to draw what I see, mostly because how they are just basic cartoon figures. Anyone can trace simple things like these especially if they are lacking any concrete details. The pencil is rather annoying and I will have to darker in the outlines once I am done. I am not even relying on any art skill at the moment, just copying what I am seeing. It is good that they are not moving around that much as it makes it easier to trace faster. Since I am doing that might as well give the drawing a background and add in the ships mast, floor, nearby ropes and railings. And just like that I have a nearly identical image on the paper. Erasing and correcting any irregularities, I stand up and use the railing for a better surface to correct any other mistakes as well as darker the outlines. Now to just get someones opinion. I do not want to walk up and ask the griffins on the deck, they may not like the idea of me drawing them without them knowing and if it is nothing like what how they perceive their reality then the responses will not be too full of criticism. For all I know they could probably think that the drawing was extremely cartoony and nothing at all close to what is their reality. Better to ask one of them that is not going to overreact or ridicule me. Gazer is probably busy with work again and I do not want to annoy the guy anymore, Marks was nice however I do not really know what his reaction could be, Fuma and Beak are the best choices. Beak is still talking and I do not know where Fuma is, most likely in the engine room.
As I turn to leave for the cabin door, I hear the sound of two sets of feet walking behind me. That and the voice of a rather familiar character.
“Hey Trav, you came back. That was quick.” Not quick enough. Turning around I see Beak walking over to me. The others by the mast seem to continue on with their conversation and not paying any attention to me or Beak. He must have excused himself to come to me. Why would he do that?
“Yea.”
“So did you get to talk to the captain? Did you do something with your mane again? It looks a little different now.” I did not really think that he would be attentive enough to notice that. Then again why would he be paying attention to the slight differences in my appearance? Alien, right. Dumb question. If you see a new creature or species then you are definitely going to be noticing the changes that go about of it.
“Yes, I got to talk to him. And it is not a mane, it is called hair. I tied up the top portion of it so it would not get in my eyes.” Since he is already here and the others are not paying attention, I could go about with my experiment. Strange how this whole situation ends up getting solved by itself. It is rather convenient, a little too convenient.
“It looks good.” If this is his attempt at flattery then he first needs more practice and second a different target because I do not care for such things. However, I guess he does deserve some points for trying.
“Thanks. Hey, can you do something for me?”
“Yea, sure. What is it?” He appears to be rather enthusiastic with helping me.
“Here” I stretch out my hand with the drawing and hand it to him. “What do you think? Any good?” I cannot just ask him if it looks real to him or not, what kind of question would that be. I need him think that this is just a critique of a drawing so that whatever the answer may be it should at least give me a clue if it is close to his reality or not.
“Wow! That looks really good, its almost like a photo. You drew this?” I did not need to wait long for his response as he just starts of talking about it as soon as he saw it. And there is my answer, The reality that I am seeing is in fact the reality of this universe and dimension. I am literally trapped in a cartoon world, at least now I know for sure that this is what they see.
“Yes, I got bored so I drew whatever caught my eye.”
“This is really good. You'r really talented, are you an artist?” Talented, yea right. All I did was trace out whatever I saw in front of me. My artwork back then was by no means great or amazing, it was just something that I liked doing once in a while. I did not really get recognized for it, my work was never the that great of a level. Sure there were some people who liked my art and said that it was amazing, however I sometimes wish to have a bigger audience tell me that. Drawing was just one of the manny things in my life that I liked doing, however it was also one of those things that would have never paid off in my future. I tried many different things in my life and they were never amazing. Good and great once in a while, however that is about as far as it went. Not that I ever really cared or gave much thought about it, it is just the way things were and probably still are. Makes me rather disappointed for not being able learn how to make amazing digital art like in the internet websites. I never had the opportunity to learn it and I had no one to teach me. Just one more thing to add to the list of personal disappointments and failures.
“No, just something I do once in a while.”
“Well its really good.”
“Thanks. You can keep it if you want.” Not like I need it anymore.
“Really? Thanks! Im going to show this to the guys.” Whatever, it really does not matter how the rest might perceive the drawing.
“Sure, go ahead.” With that he ran off to the others who are still standing and talking by the mast. Now what do I am I going to do? Maybe just walk around or sit down alone somewhere.
“Land Ho!!” A sudden scream from above made me quickly turn my head up while bending my knees and raising my hands in preparation of an attack. On the top sails there was a wooden crows nest in which a griffin is standing and pointing his right claw at the front of the ship. What the fu... When the hell did he get there?! How long was he even there? Was that crows nest even there before? I do not think so, although I was not exactly searching for it before.
I realize that I am still in my fighting stance before quickly standing straight. None seemed to have noticed my rather embarrassing reaction as their attention was drawn to the front of the ship or rather what is beyond it. I quickly walked up tot he front to where the others were standing I could faintly make out the sight of a mountain. I can barely see it from how far we are, however there is not doubt that there is land in that direction. So, here it is. I am finally close to my destination. Except now I don't really know how things are going to play out. Oh well, too late to turn back now.
Author's Note
This chapter was supposed to come out a couple of months ago, however like everything else in life shit just kept on happening. And it did not stop there. I did say that I would start writing more often, apparently that was not the case and all I can say now is that I will write whenever I can which is not vary often. So no more promises because that will just lead to more disappointment. Well at least this is the end of chapter four and things can finally get started.
Tell me what you like and dislike so that I will know what to focus on.
An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. An Outcast's Realistic Perspective
Author's Note
This was a rather unpleasant month for me so I got to write out another chapter. Just as before the story is left mostly unedited and was written in a slightly more faster pace so that should get things moving along.
Comments are appreciated so tell me if it is any good or not.
Chapter six
We walked on a clearly made out dirt road for what felt like about a minute before we reached the first house. There was no distinctive barrier or sign indicating the beginning or the end of the city. It almost looked like all of the houses had just suddenly sprung up in to some kind of grid form. Although I could see that from distance there were some house that were further away from the rest, so they were not constructed in any visible order. At least not like the houses in a suburb, placed side by side in to a designed pattern.
There was no concrete or sign of any purposefully made road. In fact the dirt road that we were walking on had melted off into a light green grass that was more reminiscent of a properly cut front lawn than the streets of a city. The reason why dirt roads are formed the way they are is do to continuous pressure and erosion made by people and animals that have used the same path for years had made it so that grass and weeds could not grow. That does not mean some small patches of grass will not grow here and there, however I have noticed that there was no small patches or signs of grass on the road that we walked on. I assumed it was due to the maintenance and use of the locals, however now that I see the streets of the city I am not so sure. The streets should have been empty ground and dirt, and instead it is short grass that actually makes it look like it had grown around the buildings or even more accurately as though the buildings have just suddenly appeared on clear field. Reminds me of how Ponyville was exactly the same way, except I was not thinking about such things at the time I was there.
To distract myself from over thinking these things and possibly giving myself another headache again, my attention instead focuses on the buildings themselves. There were distinct differences between some houses in that all of them were two, three or even more floors and yet not one was a single floor building. Some were made of red bricks, while the majority were light yellowish made out of some material that I cannot identify and had the old fashioned style houses that had wooden support frames visible on the outside. The brick buildings seem more modern in that their roofs actually had tiles while the older styled ones had what looked like hay staked on it. In any case both types of buildings seemed too advanced architecturally in that people of the time period that used these kinds of building materials could not conceive nor actually construct them in such a way. Some had balconies and outward extensions that made a rooms on the top floors have more space inside. I cannot decide if either the society was highly advanced in architecture, or someone had drawn up some plans while they were drunk and had actually been able to pull it off without getting it to break down. Or the more likely answer is because some artist drew it that way and it became a standard building model for the show. If it were not for the brick houses then I would have actually mistaken this place for Ponyville because it looks so much like it. Well, except for the griffins that were populating the streets of the city.
There were a lot of griffins out on the streets, walking in various directions, talking to each other, carrying paper bags and straw baskets with food sticking out and just going about their daily lives. There were a lot of them, however I would not say that thee were so much that they would crowd up the place. They were all light colored in different shades of brown, gray, blue, green and some other colors. No sharp dark colors or contrasts except maybe some highlights on the top of their heads or under their eyes for the girls. Some had slight darker shading at the tips of the wing feathers. The lion parts of their bodies seem the least colored portions as they have the lightest shades, it was as if they were colored in by pencils. The most noticeable thing about them however was that they were all smiling. Every single one of them was walking and talking while smiling. Not a single frown, serious or sad face anywhere to be seen. It was actually kind of weird, like a cult or even 'Stepford wives' kind of weird.
Even in a society where all of the population's needs are met, no one would be happy constantly everyday. Maybe for the begging day or even week, however eventually everyone adapts and gets used to it. Accepting things as part of their average everyday lives. They could probably be content however not constantly smiling about it. Right? I mean I honestly would not know. I never really had anything remotely like that to compare it to. Except maybe my early childhood, before I knew anything or even had an idea of how the world really worked. I was just happy to sit and watch television for hours on end, go outside to play and not have any care in the world. A time that is now long gone and something that people can never relive no matter how badly they try. Anyway, I just find it to be rather strange with how they just keep smiling. Maybe this world follows the general rules of the show in having background characters always smiling without drawing too much attention to themselves. It makes me wonder if this is how it is everywhere and if the whole city just resembles a random background of the inhabitants going about their day. This place still does not resemble a city in my opinion as much as it looks more like a small town. Beak said that the city goes beyond and into the maintains. Maybe there will be more large buildings and apartment houses.
My thoughts stop as I have noticed that my presence has finally cough the attention of the locals. Those who saw me have stopped whatever it was that they were doing, their smiles faded and their conversations were replaced with hushed whispers. Those who did not see me had their attention directed at me by their peers who were nearby. None had looks of fear or even concern as much as plain curiosity at something that is unknown. No doubt observing every detail of my as anyone else in their position would do so. My black clothes, my rough leather backpack, my accessories and no doubt the long wrapped object slung over my back. Anyone with any brains could easily deduce a sword or some other weapon shape. The fact that they are not backing off or even panicking in any way tells me that the cover sheet over the sword works enough to hide it. That's cartoon logic for you I suppose.
Again with the staring, it slowly gets on my nerves with each step that I make further into the city. My heart begins to beat rapidly while my breathing slows down. I feel on edge with a knot in my stomach that could drop at any moment. That feeling of dread that that is always there at the back of my mind begins to make itself known.
This was a mistake. I should not have came here, I should have just walked somewhere else outside of the city or better even staid on the boat. Away from everyone, away from their stares. Panic was starting to set in and my thoughts become ever more erratic. Rationality almost gone, replaced with a familiar feeling of fight or flight. The sword's weight reminding me of what I cary with me, my hand nears the knife on my belt. I have to try and stay calm, no sudden movements or this situation will become a major shit storm. Don't over react, don't loose it. Not now! Stay calm, they are just fucking cartoons!
“Hey guys how are?” Beak suddenly speaks up to the griffins staring at me. A part of me on reflex wanted to react by withdrawing my hand and hitting him with my elbow. That would not have ended well for me or for him.
“Oh hi, long time no see. Say who's that?” One male griffin spoke up in response while still looking at me. His voice did not have an indication of any fear or hostility, just curious inquiry. Strangely it was calm even, like the idea of danger did not even cross his mind.
“This is my friend Traveler. We picked him up on our last stop before coming back here.” Great, now that name is going to stick here too.
“Huh. So he's with you? Never seen his kind before.”
“We tend to keep to ourselves.” I responded as calmly as I could. I need to regain control of this situation. Before everything starts going sideways.
“Oh, well.. umm... welcome to Avias.” While he did not seemed to be surprised by me talking, he did however appear to have trouble in finding what to say. Probably unsure on how to proceed with this interaction.
They are cautious of me, they are afraid even if they do not show it. I can use that if things start going down to shit. I still need to relax, at least enough to have a clear head and to think things through.
“Thank you. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” My usual response with a slight forced smile.
That was apparently enough to calm some of the nearby griffins as their smiles returned and some started to go back to what they were doing before. Others farther away were still looking at me, however they seemed more relaxed even if nothing about them has really changed. Strange how some small sign of civility is enough to calm people down, or mythical cartoon creatures in this case. Their reactions, how they stood and looked at me was all to familiar when I first visited Ponyville. The ponies stoping what they were doing and looking at the stranger that did not belong there. Even how they calmed down more or less at my introduction was the same, another common attribute that is shared by the ponies and griffins. A repeat of history as it were, the only two major differences is when I first arrived at Ponyville I did not have any unpleasant tension growing in my stomach and the second one being that I intend to keep quiet about who and what I am. Attract as little attention as I possibly could, which is a hard thing in my case.
The small group of the griffins that have joined me and Beak on our walk to the city began to talk to the present company around us. While Beak continued to talk with the griffin that had just welcomed me here. I did not pay attention as to what they were talking about, as I was still trying to calm myself down from the adrenaline rush. My nerves were still on edge, as though my head was going on the chopping block of the guillotine. The knot in my stomach remained, as though a warning that things are still not in the clear.
So I just stood there like an idiot while I waiting until Beak stops talking. Not sure why I bother waiting because I am already in the city so there is no need for me to stay there and wait for him. We were going our separate ways anyway so maybe it would be a good time to do that. However, I am still rather tense and should at least try to calm down now. Also, Beak did sort of inadvertently calmed everyone down and defused the tension enough for them to not look at me as much. I should at least thank him for that and everything else that he done for me up to now. He was friendly when most were too afraid and he was nice to me, he deserves some gratitude for that.
Their talking does not last for too long before they say their goodbyes and surprisingly the new griffins says his farewells to me too. I did not expect any other interaction with the guy.
“Nice meeting you Traveler. See you around.” He walked off with a smile on his face and just like that it all ended. No one seemed worried or afraid, somer still looking my way however not enough to cause for concern.
As we began walking again to some unknown destination, the locals actually greeted us as well as me along our way. All had smiles and were generally nice with their “hello's” and “how are you's.” It was still rather weird for me, it actually got weirder with how they kept on greeting us as we passed them. Even new griffins were generally welcoming, as if they were there when I first came in and already knew that I pose them no threat. Well, at least no immediate threat.
Some even had tried to engage in small talk and conversation with all of us. Asking how was the trip back, if there was anything new and interesting, how we all met and where I was. I tried to keep the small talk short and move on. At least they were only asking the same questions that I was already asked on the ship, with the same answers to keep up my evident consistency. Cant let myself get caught in my own lies if want to void any problems.
I find it strange how most of them want to talk to me, it is rather uncomfortable. Most people would honestly try to ignore one another as most places follow the same cultural norm of leaving strangers alone. I rather enjoy that notion, not having to deal with unwanted attention and not have to pretend to be nice while all I really want is for them to shut up and leave me alone. The modern society in America seemed rather fixated on building social barriers towards other people, essentially separating each other and distancing one another further. A concept that I grew well accustomed to and even to like when I first arrived in the states. This society or perhaps more appropriately this small city apparently does not follow this particular norm. If anything this society/small city/town seems open and friendly toward each other as well as to the unknown. I find this to be rather disturbing. It is almost like what one would expect for Ponyville to be like after watching the show.
However that is obviously not the case as it would seem. Or who knows, maybe I am just that special enough to get the ass end of the stick in that situation. Maybe some other dumbass who would get himself thrown into my shoes would have faired better. Hell, maybe he would have had all of his life's problems solved while he was there too. All handed to him on a silver platter while the ponies practically wipe his ass for him. Is that not what people generally think would happen if they arrived at Equestria? Well that and most likely hope of eventually fucking a pony.
After some walking and passing by buildings that all looked the same with some slight changes, the griffins that have tagged along with Beak and me have split up into various directions after saying their farewells. Beak and I kept on walking forward, or rather I was just following where he was going. Not much was said between us. There were no visible stores as we walked by the houses, the houses themselves were not really arranged in any clear order. Ones back door entrance faced someone else's front door and mail box. Each house had their own small decoration, however nothing that screamed originality. Each had some plants on the windows, on the sides of the front door or both. Different colored doors or mailboxes along with maybe an occasional different colored drapes behind the windows. No house had any front lawn, they were all too close to each other and the street literally surounds the house. Some old fashioned metal garbage cans were spread out next to some houses, really nothing worth even looking at. Even the sky seems to be clear of any griffins, you would think that they would fly around everywhere seeing as how they have wings. No wait never mind, that was one that just flew by some distance ahead of us.
Maybe this would be as good of a time as any to ask Beak about the city' main locations and to go our separate ways.
“Hey Beak, can you tell me how I can find some places? Or better yet, is there a map of the city that I could get somewhere?”
“I don't know about a map, maybe in the city hall but thats too far away. And you would probably find what you are looking for by the time you get there. What exactly is it that you are looking for?” He chose to stop and talk in the middle of the street. At least we were not getting in the way of griffins walking on this particular street.
“A market, a library and a museum.” A general open street vendor store is good for seeing interesting items that I might be able to trade some of my stuff for and while unknown to most people, a vendor with items from different locations tends to know more things that others. A good source of information on locations, customs and anything else revolving around the culture of interest. The library is obviously for research and information, assuming that I can get around the weird squiggly line and geometric shape writing. A librarian will more useful than a book in that particular situation. And a museum to have some visual understanding of this worlds past, or at least this country's. One cannot really move forward into the future without first at least having some idea of its past.
“Well you can find the market and some stores if you turn here.” Unfolding his right wing he points to the right from where we were standing. So all of sudden he starts using his wing to point with while for some reason he was using his hand/claw, whatever. Those wings are rather limber with the way everyone here uses them. “Walk straight two blocks and then make a left and you should see the market square from there.”
Not too far from here then, good. I have a great sense of orientation so even if we move from here, I would still be able to find it. Just need to have some unique building or something constant that would serve as a landmark. The house while unreliable as landmarks with the possibility of having multiple versions of the same design would have to do. The three house surrounding us would be unlikely to have copies aligned in the same pattern so they will be fine for now until I find somehting better.
“Thanks. And hod I find the rest?”
“The library is actually not too far from the market square, just follow the big main road out on to the street until you start to see some stores. It will be the long building next to the 'Chairs and Forks' store.”
Oh dear god, they actually have one of those weird stores where only two objects that have nothing in common are being soled. And here I thought that that kind of stupid thing was only exclusively available for ponies. Ignoring everything about it that makes absolutely no freaking sense what so ever, I will just point out that it is a poor choice economically to only sell two specific things and noting else related to it. Could have just been a furniture or tableware store, definitely would have been more profitable. Just saying.
“And the museum is pretty far away from here. It's close to the city hall building, but you would have to walk all the way there next to the mountain.” He looked up at the mountain further ahead of us as he spoked, almost as if to make a point. He did not exactly give directions to the museum, however since he said it was near city hall then I just need to get there and find my way from there.
He did say that the main parts of the city were more further away. The problem with cartoon mountains is that there is vary poor dept perception to them. They may seem like they are far away and later turn out to be far more closer and vise versa. Whatever little details that I could make out from here tell me that it is not all that far away, maybe an hours walk or even less at my pace.
“Thanks.”
“So... I guess you probably want to go where you were going to, huh?” An obvious look of sadness if I have ever seen one and a voice as if the guy just herd some bad news. I hope this guy does not make this weird.
“Yes, I should if I want to make it before nightfall. But hey, I want to thank you for everything, especially with the crowd back there.”
“Oh that was nothing, you don't have to thank me.”
“Still, thanks”
“Ok then, your welcome. I will see you around then, right?” Again with the hopeful sounding voice, why does everyone here seem so clingy?
“Yea, definitely. See you around.” Probably not.
“Goodbye.” We shake hands and part ways as he continues on his track, probably going home.
The best thing that I could do would be to go to the library to get familiar with area and to get started my research. As I follow the directions to the market, my thoughts come back to the reality that I am alone in a foreign country, walking around in a city that I have never been to before. And just like that the panic starts all over again. In all honesty maybe I was too rash in my decision to leave the Everfree and explore on my own, I though about it for a long time, however maybe it was not long enough. Being lost somewhere where I have not been to before is not a pleasant experience. I have nowhere really to go, no one to turn to in my time of need or to rely on anyone. In truth, that is what I have always wanted. To be free from having to depend on anyone for anything, to not have to rely on people who could just as easily throw me under a buss if they felt like it. While I know that my parent would never do, it certainly felt like they wanted to sometimes. There is also a different kind of freedom to being self reliant, there is no one to depend on me.
I had people depend on me before and it really sucked. They always want something more out of you, even when you help and give them everything it is never enough. Why would anyone want people to rely on them? The less people that need you, the less work and responsibilities you have. And yet people continue to make choices that end up with even more needy people attached to them. I heard the counter argument to that from a classmate once when I proposed my argument. If people rely on you then there are people that need you. Personally I do not want to be needed, I do not have some weak emotional dependency to being wanted by others or to fit somewhere in.
However, a familiar place would probably help me calm down. The griffins out on the streets continue as they were, some greeting me, some waving and saying hello, while those who did not yet hear about me were looking at me form a distance with curious and cautious expressions. Still weird.
I have finally noticed what would appear to be the marketplace from a distance. It was a large open space where wooden booths were placed in in lines. From what I could tell they were selling various items ranging form food, to rugs to some other things. Just what I was hoping the place to be. If it were only food being sold then the stores would not be useful to me. With limited a budget I could not afford much anyway. The detail that had really made itself apparent o me was the fact that the whole marketplace was full of griffins. It was overcrowded, there were some that were trying to do their shopping while hovering in the air above the booths. There would be no point in trying to go there now as nothing would be accomplished with looking up things or getting any information from the vendors. That and I would probably end up murdering someone if I get agitated enough with the still present anxiety.
So instead I have decided to walk around the crowded market and houses to find the main road out of it, it was on the right from where I first came close to the place. The stares from the griffins was unavoidable, even by just walking around the place and some houses there were stares and hushed whispers following me. I did the right thing of not going into that crowded space. Everyone would have probably stopped doing everything and just stood there looking at me awkwardly. That is something I would really like to avoid.
It got to the point where I was really starting to get annoyed. I understand their curiosity and interest, however it did make this any easier nor did it lessen my aggravation. There was a pair almost next tom who were sating intently and whispering amongst themselves while looking at me. I stopped and just stood there looking at them in the eyes while they still kept on whispering. They did not even bother to hide the fact that they were looking at me and talking about me, in fact their whispering had gotten even more exited. I guess it should have been no surprise to anyone with what happened next.
“What!” I could not take it anymore. I was no longer panicking or concerned about my situation, I was angry. My voice was loud, not loud enough to be called a yell however it was enough to get attention from the pair and the surrounding locals.
“N-nothing! Nothing!” The first one spoke up first with wide eyes, a scared expression on his face and a voice that showed surprise and fear.They did not expect me to react
“Yea, nothing! Sorry!” The other one quickly agreed with his friend before both of them walked way from me rather quickly. They were obviously scared and hopefully this little show had made it clear that I do not like being stared at.
The locals were still there standing and watching, shunned up by my little display of annoyance. Apparently they did not learn the lesson here, lets try this again.
“What are you all looking at.” While not loud, my voice did cary the edge aggression that should have told anyone that I am not be screwed with. And it would seem that it was enough as everyone quickly looked away and started walking in various directions. None were looking at me as some held their heads low as to not make eye contact. It proves to show that a little rage actually can solve some of life's problems.
Returning to my walk along the main street, stores started showing up on both sides. There were many different stores that made it evident that there was actually more to this small city/town then it appeared at first glance. There was a hardware store, a bed and mattress store, bakery, furniture, clothes jewelry an artist gallery, arts and crafts supply, toy store, an outdoor restaurant, a store that only soled bathtubs, a box store. No seriously, a store that had a sign that said 'The Box Store' and had boxes of various shapes and sizes made from different things displayed in the window.
All the signs were legible and printed in clear english if not in a childish font. Except for the restaurant as it tried to make itself look fancy with a cursive font, the waiters wearing bow ties and some even having the stereotypical curly mustaches. There were white stylish tables with matching white chairs set out near the entrance, most were filled up with customers sitting and eating their food either alone or with company. The food being served was sandwiches, chicken drum sticks, cooked steak, mashed potatoes, various salads that I could not make out due to a lack of details in their composition, desserts like ice cream, chocolate chip cookies and muffins served with tea or maybe even coffee. Some of the griffins who were seated and eating had looked up at me as I walked by, even the waiters had stopped what they were doing to look.
What really got my attention was the clothing store as it made me wonder why would griffins need clothes. Then again why would ponies need clothes and yet Rarity was able to keep herself in business for some time. Maybe it was the same for the griffins, dresses for parties and formal occasions. I will need to make a stop there later to get a spool of sowing thread for future use. Maybe even try to see about some socks, a new shirt and some other clothes for the various seasons. However paying for those things is a different issue on its own. Unfortunately that while I am in a city I need currency to get by and without a source of income there is vary little chance of me getting to acquire anything that I will need. Maybe the small change on me will be enough to at least buy some sowing supplies for repairs.
The store 'Chairs and Forks' comes up and next to it stands a long single floor building that has a wooden post with a picture of a stack of books on it. I guess the image is for those who cannot read the word library and would not mistaken it for something else. It was rather plain looking, modern even with the building being made from red bricks. Two windows facing the front with the main entrance being a pair of brown wooden double doors. With s piece of paper having been nailed on it, some note maybe a the library hours. Although why nail a peace of paper instead of using tape or a stapler is beyond me. No way in hell can anyone tell me that those things do not exist here, there are way bigger things that should not exist here and yet they are.
Approaching the front doors and try to see what was on the appear revealed it to be written in clear english for once. The note read 'Library closed for book re-shelving day.'
“...You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Good thing that there was no one close enough to hear me otherwise I do not know how that would have been received. Damn you Twilight! Even here your OCD with book organization manages to take hold. I used to work in my high school's library, shelving and re-shelving books is not that freaking hard! Learn the damn Dewey decimal system!
Fuck. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? It will be evening in a few hours and while the weather is good now it might get cold at night, I need to find a place for me to stay the night. Seeing as how I am in a city, have nowhere to go, not enough money for some kind of motel or inn if they have one, the only places I have left to go would be a local homeless shelter, a secluded and secure alley or under a bridge. I do not think that there are homeless shelters in this small city or even this world for that matter. And I did not see any bridges out here while walking through the city. So that would leave the alley as my best choice. Besides, this kind of city does not look like it would have any abandoned or even condemned buildings and even if it did then it would take too long to find one. I could also go out of the city and find some woods or sleep in a tree. However that would be too far and would take too long. A park would also be fine, however I did not see any so far and it would probably be too exposed for me to stay there. With the alley at least I am where I need to be and could go out right to the library in the morning, assuming that it will not be closed for some other stupid reason.
Might as well try to find an alley somewhere near the library so that I would not have to go too far. However I will have to wait until nightfall before settling in so as to avoid any unpleasant and rather awkward stares from the locals. Not exactly comfortable when others see one's predicament in life that forces a person to sleep in the streets. I can only imagine what it is like for people who had their lives go down hill and end up homeless for the first time. People would have to forfeit some if not all of their pride and self esteem to survive. Reading about such things is one thing, however to actually be going through it is completely different. It makes me feel vary uncomfortable, in part because it would be embarrassing to be caught sleeping somewhere near a dumpster. Even if this is a cartoon city with cartoon characters for citizens, it is still be awkward to be in such a situation. Never really though that I would end up like this, in a way the past fears of becoming nothing and ending up a homeless bum has come true for me. The forest was one thing, it was survival and freedom where no one was around to judge me or look down upon me. If anything I could look down upon others because my skills would keep me alive and moderately comfortable while the inexperienced others would starve and die. This, this however is just rock bottom, some people have actually committed suicide than to end up sleeping in the streets. In a way maybe I am rather lucky for not having much if not any pride and self respect, it will make things easier for me in the future as I will no doubt have to sleep outside in the open night sky for many evenings.
I have walked around the library and even some of the surrounding buildings to discover that pretty much every single part of the city road was being used like a highway. The placement of the buildings made even less sense as they were not arranged in any visible order that would be functional, some of the streets were wider than others while others were short enough to only make ten steps before it ended. There were no alleys that I could find anywhere near the damn library. In fact I am starting to think that this city/suburban town has no alleys which translates to me being screwed. All I could do is expand my search further before settling to go outside of the city, maybe even returning back to the docks and staying behind one of the storage buildings.
It was slowly becoming dark and the wind was picking up speed, time had passed by quickly. My exploring of the city has taken far longer than I though it would for such a small place. Walking around back and forth has eventually led me back to the market square. It was already closed with no one being present, not even some passing by griffins. Some of the booths were empty while others were gone, most likely wheeled away by the owners. The streets were for the most part slowly becoming empty with only one fourth of the numbers that I have seen at the beginning. All were walking and talking, barely even noticing me as they were too focused on their conversations. The few that did looked away to avoid eye contact, at least they were not staring anymore. The stores were still open with lights coming out of the windows and doors, some last minute nigh shoppers trying to buy stuff before the stores close. The restaurant was closed with the tables and chairs remaining outside, not a good idea if it were to rain. Although with the weather being their bitch and all I guess they can afford to be careless, they would still have to clean them everyday anyway. It was when walking by the restaurant when I noticed a narrow space between it and another building next to it. I was not looking at that direction at the time as I was still dealing with my agitation from the two gawking griffins to notice it. An actually alley that would work just fine, narrow enough to hide me unless someone were to stand directly in front of the entrance to see me.
Inside there was a door at the side of the restaurant, probably leading to the kitchen. On the right of the door and near the end of the alley was a rather large dark green metal trash container. If I were to move it slightly then I could cover the back entrance and decrease the chances of getting noticed. While no one was looking, I went inside the alley and quickly started to move the metal container. There were no griffins on the other side of the street so none would see me move it. The trash container had no wheel on the bottom, so I had to push it from one side to get it to move. It was heavy and reeked of spoiled and rotting food, it was unpleasant however nothing new to me. I got it to move in position without making any loud noises that would attract attention. So found myself a spot for the night, too bad I could not start a fire to warm up and pass the time before I fall asleep. A hobo fire in a trash can would have been fine, however if that kind of scene is not common in that specific location then it will certainly cause some unwanted attention. So much for sleeping by the fire. That is assuming that I will actually sleep instead of returning to my insomnia pattern again. I always had a problem with sleeping in new locations on the first night. So I probably will not be doing much of any sleeping.
Taking of my back pack and placing it on the grown I sat down near the front entrance of the alley with my back leaning on the the restaurant building. My wrapped up sword placed vertically in front of me while my left hand was holding it place, I simply stare ahead at the opposite wall blankly. The sounds of griffins talking reaches my ears, they were too far away to make any sense of what they were saying. It was all just static notice to me, much like any voices in cities. This was not a city, at least not by the standards of New York. Cities tend to be full at all the hours of the day, and yet this one looks like it was actually going to sleep soon.
Not bad for a first day in a new place, I traded in a semi comfortable bed on a ship for an alley that had a smelling trash can covering one entrance. Yup, this is my life. This is what it came down to. You were right mom, I guess I did not amount to anything after all. If my internet browsing history did not make you cry then this surely will. Good thing you are not around to see this, I know that you would just use it as an excuse to scream at me even more. You know, despite everything I still-
“Trav? What are you doing here?” An all too familiar voice rings out, startling me out of my thoughts. There standing not too far from the alley entrance was Beak with two large paper bags on his back and one in his arm.
“Relaxing.” My response came out as more of a question than a statement. I am not even sure how to react to him being there. Probably the same way I would react if I were back home, general indifference towards everything.
“Out there? Are you... is this where you are staying tonight?” He sounded incredulous when he asked me that question. He was rather quick to deducing that.
Looking first down at the grown as though I were searching something and then back at him to respond.
“Yea, pretty much.” My reply was rather nonchalant as I was staring to care less about how he or anyone else would look at me.
Opening and closing his mouth a few times as though unable to say anything he quickly shakes his head before finding the words he wanted to speak.
“No friend of mine is going to spend the night out in some dirty street.” I really did not think that we were friends after spending only as short time together. “Lets go, your coming home with me.”
“Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do-”
“No buts! You are coming with me to my place and we will have a nice evening dinner with my family.” Well that sums up everything in one line. Do people really say things like that, their whole plans instead of a short mention?
“Beak, I do not want to to be an inconvenience. Especially when you have your family over.”
“They love it when company joins them for dinner! Come on dude. It's better than staying here.” Cant argue with that, a free meal and roof over my head sounds rather good right about now. This is actually all well timed really. Either I am extremely lucky lately or some unseen force is guiding things my way. Kind of makes me wonder what kind of a fall I am being set up for. Screw it, a meal and a bed sounds too good to pass up.
“Alright. Thanks dude, I mean it.” Getting up and picking up all my things, I walk up to him, “Let me help you with those bags.”
“No its alright.”
“Come on, let me at least do something for offering to take me in.”
“Well, ok.” Picking up the two bags from his back, I could tell that it was filed with food and some other items. He obviously was one of the few last minute shoppers.
We started off walking with me holding the two bags while he placed the third one on his back, somehow being able to balance it like it was nothing. Practice I guess. It really is interesting how this opportunity had presented itself so perfectly. My paranoia was telling me that it was too convenient and that something was going on. While the more apathetic and lethargic side of me is saying fuck it. I hope that I am not making a mistake, with my track record so far it would not surprise me if in fact I am making a bad decision. I still have my knives and sword so I should be ready for anything bad. Although I am not so certain that I am ready for dinner with Beak's family. I barely know the guy and he offers me to stay at his place and eat his food. What if he is a serial killer who makes dinner out of unsuspecting visitors, cutting them up in his basement and wearing his victims skin like some griffon version of Buffalo Bill? Or what if it is even worse? What if he is actually gay and I am just there to make his coming out to his parents easier? I think I rather prefer him being a serial killer, at least then I could just kill him and vent out some of my frustration.
Either way, this is going to be an interesting evening.
