The ocean’s sounds were all that greeted me when I got to the beach this time. Mondays were people’s busy days, so it was just an empty morning on the beach, which left me time to go to the pier and relax for a while. I thought that maybe I should consider a few job options too, since I was running kind of short on money.
However, as I got to the boardwalk, I noticed someone standing at my usual spot at the edge of the pier, leaning over. I thought she might be peering into the waters, but then I considered maybe she was depressed. I walked ever closer just to be sure, so I could catch her if she went in. I may not be on duty, but I have a personal duty that I like to keep in check.
Once I got a few feet away, the mare leapt into the air and flipped, looking at me and giving a quick wink before she splashed into the cool ocean blue. It was her, from before.
I had subconsciously reached out for her, but was too late in my reflex, so in a panic I started yanking off my armor, setting it carefully on the boards, and once fully nude I jumped into the water to look for her. The saline water stung my eyes badly, but I forced them open, looking for any slight darkness in the lit up water. Nothing. My eyes burned now, as they darted around the foggy murk, desperately trying to find her, but to no avail. I searched for what felt like a good ten minutes, but came up empty.
“F-fucking, damn.. I lost her..” I said, letting water flood into my mouth, reminding me that I needed to surface before I too met a watery grave. I broke out of the water, gasping and sputtering, cursing myself. I punched the pillars that held up the boardwalk, feeling a splinter jut into my exposed skin, breaking it.
I sighed. My legs carried me back to shore as I looked back to where she fell. I was, shocked. She just dove in out of nowhere and never came back up. And, I was too slow to stop her from it. I knew she seemed too innocent, I knew she was hiding someth--
“Hey! I remember you! Why you so glum?”
Oh. I was wrong. “I, thought you drowned in there, I.. I looked for like, ever!” My tone was a bit snappy, and surprisingly filled with worry. “N-not that I cared, just, doing my duty.”
“Oh, hmhm, silly. I can swim you know. When does a pony smile and wink when they’re about to drown?” She had a good point. “Thanks for the concern though, Dami.”
She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek, which resulted in a huge blush covering my face. I hadn’t even minded her calling me that nickname I was so taken aback. “U-uh, anytime, Foam.”
Shaking off my fur, and quickly using my bent horn to bring back my armor, I looked up and noticed her smiling at me. “Sorry about yesterday,” she said, “I uh, hate thunderstorms. Heh.”
“It’s alright, dear. Just could have said something.” I responded, patting her head. Her voice was still cheery sounding, just as yesterday. Again I wondered how she could be so kindly to a complete stranger, a much older one at that.
“Well, anyway, what were you doing here?”
“Meditating.” I replied to her, smiling sheepishly. It’s quite out of the ordinary to meditate, according to most ponies I meet around when I do.
“Ooh, like a monk? Do you do chants when you do it? Or yoga, do you do yoga?” Immediately I found myself being interrogated by her, unceasingly, but to my own surprise I wasn’t annoyed, but amused. She gave me a sense of personal wisdom, as I told her about the world, I felt like I was teaching her new things.
Each question she asked I answered honestly, and smiled in earnest. After a few rounds of questions, she seemed satisfied. “I like you, Dami, you’re interesting. Not many ponies that go around in armor, or meditate, or anything like that.”
“Hm, thank you. I think you’re rather intriguing myself, you have that quirky attitude, and your shell business is kind of cute. Charming, really.” The compliment gave her a short twinkle in her eye, and she thanked me in kind.
“Can I walk with you? I don’t have anything to do today and I could use someone to talk to while I sort these shells.” She asked, a hopeful look in her expression.
“Of course,” I said, which widened her smile. I walked towards home with her close in tow, talking with her as we went. She seemed happy to be there with me, the crotchety old man, and that was enough for me to take a small liking to her.
Eventually, after she talked my ear off and I replied to a question here or there, we got to the entrance to the woods, and she marvelled at the pretty flowers. “I like what you’ve done with the place!” She said, though I couldn’t tell if she was joking.
“Thank you, m’lady, just brought this forest in last week.” I joked back, just in case. Though something told me she thought I owned the woods. Either way, I brought her deeper into it and we got to the cabin, where she squee’d and rushed inside.
Once I got in, she was already at my dining table, shells splayed across the surface in a neat fashion. “Now you can see what I got!” She looked at me with the innocence of a child, beaming widely as she pointed at a big conch shell. I grinned back, and sat at the opposite end, just marvelling with her and watching her in her craft.
One particular shell she had, a sparkly blue oyster’s shell, held her interest for a while. She used a small tool she kept in her back to poke a hole near the top, and strung some kelp through it, then began using smaller shells and pearls, putting them to the sides of the oyster shell, making a necklace that kept it as the main event.
I had to say she had a very good talent for this sort of thing, the necklace looked very professional, and what was better was the authenticity of it. It used genuine shells and the yarn was from the sea itself as well, not that plastic wire and fake crap they use at those boardwalk stores. She could start a legitimate business with these, if she wanted to, but she seemed content in selling them at the market, individually.
I told her that it was unwise to be such a small girl in the middle of a big market, but she said she does it all the time. I considered just tagging along, to keep her safe. On that subject with her, she told me that she has really weird luck with things, for instance; once at the boardwalk she was walking down, a board or two fell under her feet, but there was a boardwalk explorer underneath, that looked up in surprise, keeping the boards up.
She told other stories about her weird luck, each one making me wonder moreso than the last, “How the hell is this lass still alive?” I told her that I was tagging along from now on, that I’d be her hired knight for a while to see this for myself. I set the bar for her way low, just a bit an hour, because while I did offer, I still do need money.
She agreed, and we settled on leaving in the morning.
“Are you going home?” I asked her, and then her ears lowered to her head, and she frowned.
“N-no, I can’t.. The storm yesterday kinda, heh..”
It clicked for me, and I sighed. “I’m sorry that happened to you. If you need to stay here, I’ll let you, just don’t ruin anything please. And don’t touch my armor if I’m not around, that was expensive. And it’s mine.” I frowned at her jokingly, and she perked up.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed, running up and giving me a hug. “I’ll be careful, promise!” She gave me her necklace that she finished as her thanks, and went back to her seat to continue making them.
A few hours passed, and I headed to the bedroom to sleep, since her constant questions and chatter did drain me after a while. I’m not much of a talker, so when I’m forced to reply to a million things at once, I get tired easy, so getting some sleep was a godsend at this point. Then, she got up herself and followed me, to sleep herself.
“Uh, you sure you want to sleep with me? Isn’t that kinda, uh, scandalous?” I asked.
She looked puzzled. “Scandalous? Whaddya mean?”
“Uh.. I’m a man.” “Yes?” “With a penis.” “Mmhmmm?” “There’s usually a bad connotation in a girl sleeping with a man.”
“.. I don’t get it.” She replied. I sighed at this, and just gave her my permission. I flopped onto one side of the bed, and her the other. We didn’t cuddle, for obvious reasons, but she seemed to find the whole thing innocent. Was weird, most young girls don’t spring to sleep with some twice-their-age stranger.
I didn’t care though, she was alright. Tiring, and energetic, pretty much the opposite of me, but I liked her enough. And she needed a place to stay while her house was destroyed, and I wasn’t about to kick her out. So for now, I’ll let her be happy in whatever way she wants.
It isn’t like I didn’t want her there, anyway.
We left early in the morning, her bag of shells and necklaces in tow, and started at the furthest end of the boardwalk, waiting for the tourists and beachgoers to arrive. I sat on my haunches, armor clanking as it hit the wooden planks, and stuck my sword between a small crevice.
“What does your cutie mark mean?” She asked out of nowhere. She pointed at the thorned bloodred rose on my armor, engraved by the very pegasus that made my armor. I shuddered as soon as I uttered pegasus.
“It means that I’m dangerous, but have a soft, fragile side. It also means I’m a gardener, I like roses.”
“Oh, that sounds pretty, can I see your garden?”
“Of course, once it’s in season, dear.” I told her calmly, rather happy that she held an interest in my talent.
After a time, some people came in, and my little lady sprang up to meet them. “Hello!”
She worked her entrepreneur's magic, and sold off some necklaces, getting five bits each one that she gave off. It took a while, but she managed to wrack up about fifty bits from her business, and I raised my brow. “Impressive. How often do you do this?”
I sat down on a nearby bench, and she did the same, and we discussed her job, and subsequently, mine. She asked, “You’re a knight-for-hire, right? Who hires you, and do you get around a lot?”
Smiling, I replied, “Usually the well-to-do types, rich ponies with paranoia issues, the smaller, weaker ponies that need help, sometimes a changeling hive if I’m unlucky. I get paid two hundred bits an hour, typically, for those. Protection doesn’t come cheap, at all.”
“Ooh. But, why are you doing it so cheap for me, then?”
I stopped. I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it again. I knew I wanted to protect her myself, but I never really knew why I did it so cheap. “Uh, because you made a good first impression?”
She seemed satisfied with that answer. I leaned my head back to rest on the back of the chair, and closed my eyes for a moment. That was, until some old hag soccermom decided she had to intrude on my nap.
This prude went up to Sea Foam, giving me the nastiest look she could muster, and whispered rather loudly, “You know, honey, there are younger fish in the sea.” I got a little bit pissed, but I’d gotten that before, so I didn’t quite care as much. And it wasn’t like we were dating anyway.
However, she replied back, “Whaddya m- Oh, like baby sharks? Or dolphins? Baby dolphins are so cute, they make those cute little squeak noises and play with bubbles..” Foam went on for a while about as many baby fish as she could think up, until the mare got tired of it and stormed off, flicking at me with her tail. I never understood the contempt ponies gave me, I’m not even that old. Fourty seven isn’t considered senile cougar as far as I’m concerned.
But it was what it was, and at least Sea was innocent enough not to care. I thought it was very charming and cute how innocent she was, me almost never seeing that in anyone. Maybe that’s why I’ve been having such a soft spot for her, she reminds me a little bit of a daughter or sister, something along those lines. She was special, to me, because she wasn’t like other women, and she wasn’t after anything I didn’t want to give. She seemed like she’d care no matter what, and wouldn’t have any ulterior motives, aside from maybe making me happy.
I didn’t really know, not at this point, but I kind of wished for that, and hoped that she didn’t disappoint in the future. Until then though, I voted on keeping her happy and being a friend. Not that I could really stop now anyway, she still needed a place to stay.
I laid my head back again, listening to her talk about anything that was on her mind, falling asleep to her sweet, perky voice. After a time, she just laid her head on my stomach, and kept talking, not minding that I was sleeping and not answering, she appeared to be content in just letting me listen. I liked that.
The sun beat down on my armor, heating me up inside, but again, wearing this every day has the perk of being used to extreme temperatures. I definitely felt like a cooked goose though, and wanted to go for a swim. “Hey, Foam, you want to head into the water with me?”
Her face turned slightly pale, and she lost her smile. “Um..”
“Well? Just a quick little swim, I need to wash off the sweat and stuff.”
“N-no, I think I’m okay, eheh.”
“Why not? It’d just be a quick dip, c’mon, I wanna see how well you swim. I only know from how fast you got ashore a few days ago.”
She stammered, “Uh, buh, nuh uh, I’m good. I, I’m not very good. I hate swimming actually.”
“But.. You jumped straight into the water before. You, your job is literally going into water to get seashells. You told me this this morning.” I wondered what was up, she jumped into the water without a care, even winking and smiling, and her job -does- consist of swimming all over. Now all of a sudden she can’t do it near me? What’s this all about?
“Err.. I’m waterlogged. Yeeeeah, when you were napping, I went swimming again, and I went into really deep water to surf. With my body. And boy, I can’t even stay upright, I’m so dizzy and waterlogged!” She feigned falling over, adding dramatics to her act.
Giving up on trying to pry, seeing as I didn’t really care all that badly, I let it slide and just patted her head. “Fine. We don’t have to swim. But here, pull that lever right there.” I pointed to her left. She pulled it, slowly, and a rush of water came from above me.
“Thank you. Hey, I wasn’t about to let the heat get to me, swim or no.” I let the shower run for a while, letting it run off my armor, and felt a cold release from the extreme oven temperatures that once encapsulated me.
She looked at me, with an expression of relief and interest. “Who made this armor anyway?”
I recalled the day I went into Canterlot, looking for another job for one of the rich unicorn folks. The town center was bustling, every pony having something to do in some part of the city. I was bare of armor back then, with only a scabbard and boots to cover myself. That was another reason I was there. I needed some armor.
My hair back then had gone down to my chest, it was straight and messy, washed but covered in sweat and oils. I tied it in a ponytail to keep it somewhat kempt, but it always flowed with the wind, which never agreed with me, blowing it into my eyes no matter what I tried.
Most of the ponies that saw me thought I was, what they called, a “weeaboo”. I didn’t understand at the time, but apparently ponies think that having long, greasy hair and carrying a greatsword is cause for being someone who enjoys pleasuring themselves to cartoons of various genres. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it was insulting. And what was worse, other ponies agreed with them, giving me looks of disgust every so often. I stopped caring after the tenth one.
Eventually, I came across a little blacksmith’s shop, called Spears in Mint. I went in, and was greeted by a grey pegasus with black and blue hair, down to his chin, which was tufted with fur at the edge. His striking purple eyes met with my yellow ones, and I held back a grimace. Pegasi.
Now I wasn’t racist, to an extent. I just had a small dislike for pegasi, because whenever problems arose, it seemed that a pegasus was either to blame or was there to make it worse.
I shoved it back though, he seemed nice enough, and if I was going to commission him for anything less than my arms and legs, then I’d need to make a good impression. “Afternoon, sir. Do you do armor here?”
He looked me up and down, taking a longer look at my hair, and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Need somethin’ done?”
Nodding back, I told him what I needed. “Full plate, preferably done in damascus steel, I’ll pay any amount you wish, as long as you make it look good and mercenary-like.”
“Good and mercenary-like, huh? Hm.. Well. Damascus steel will cost you, but, how’d you feel about eight thousand bits? Chainmail and underwears would be an extra thousand.”
“Deal.” I proudly exclaimed, and gave him a large pouch, filled with silver and copper bits, all coming to be worth around the amount I had to pay. “This oughta make your life, huh, pegasus?” Damn.
“Excuse me? I have a name. I’m Spearmint, thank you very much, and don’t use my race as a deadname in my own store.” I may have pissed him off, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“A-apologies, I’m, a recovering racist. I’m very sorry, I was raised to believe pegasi were under me, and I’m, trying to get out of that mindset.” Hey, honesty was the best policy.
He chuckled at me, after a long pause. “Alright, I’ll let this one go. Only condition is, I’ll take however long with this art as I want, and you’ll just have to be patient. Check in again in a few weeks.” I left feeling satisfied, hoping the artist of my future uniform would make the most spectacular piece he could with what I gave him.
Having it now, I can say that he definitely did.