Bull Session
Energen Levels: 100%. Reserve Bank: 99% full. Estimate minimum of 7.3 days until replenishment of main supply is required, accounting for self-repair.
Well, it wasn't quite enough to get my reserves up to 100%, but 1% is negligible. Provided something disastrous doesn't happen, I won't need to worry about replenishment for a week. My auto-repair should be making some serious progress by then.
With that update aside, here is where I am now. The fashion district is several long streets worth of boutiques, specialty shops, and vendors that offer everything that ponies and other local species need to make themselves look 'fantastic', for a certain stretch of the word. It's a place where they can go if they're blue or otherwise don't know where to go to. This is where fashion sits in Manehattan.
"Fair warning," I tell Gray as we enter the district proper. "I don't know the first thing about fashion. I may need help through all the difficult segments."
"You identify as a girl, and you're clueless about clothes?" Gray scoffed. "And here I thought some things were universal."
"I didn't care in the slightest about fashion back home," I say in reply. "I mean, look at me. Helmet. Light armor. Vest. Arm guards. Boots. Bodysuit. This is my daily wear, Gray. Do I look like the type that's good at being pretty?"
"...Interestingly, I've been thinking about this since breakfast. I'm no expert in clothes myself," Gray answers skeptically, "but I'm pretty sure the term 'bodysuit' doesn't mean what you think it means."
"Far as I'm concerned, since it covers my whole body, it's a bodysuit. Let's not argue semantics." Work with me here, pony.
"Call it what you want. You're still wrong," Gray argues. "That's closer to a unitard."
"And this time you're wrong," I deny. "It's not skintight enough to be a unitard." Why are we having this conversation? I'm not seeing what the deal is with this.
"Well, it's sure not a bodysuit." Gray's being persistent here. Seriously, stop. "I was under the impression that bodysuits didn't cover the legs. Or arms, in your case."
"Again. It covers my whole body. It's a bodysuit." I fold my arms, trying to give the impression of 'this is how things stand, and nothing will change that'. "Official definitions can go hang."
Gray rolls her eyes. "You're just going to keep being difficult about this, aren't you? Fine. I'll ask somepony in the district who's in the know. Bet you five bits you're wrong."
"I don't need to gamble to know when I'm right about something, little pony," I retort. "Just drop it already."
"Sure, I'll drop it," Gray agrees. "Just so long as you admit you were lying about not caring about fashion."
"Lying?" I ask with a frown. "What are you talking about?"
"If you didn't care about fashion, then you obviously wouldn't care whether it was called a bodysuit or a unitard, would you?" Gray smiles victoriously. "Ha. Got you there."
Geh... "If that's how you're going to play this, then maybe I should've asked somepony else to be my guide," I pointed out. "Why should I trust you to help me around the fashion district if you don't wear clothes yourself?"
Gray flinches at this. "Ponies have natural coats, Leviathan. We have room to call clothes optional. And I'll have you know that I have a very nice and frilly lavender dress in my closet that I wear every anniversary. It gets compliments, it's still in fine condition, and it looks stylish. Since I picked it out myself, that makes me more qualified to judge fashion than you."
"I'd have to get confirmation from whoever it was that sold it to you before I'd believe that," I tell her firmly. "In any case, I wasn't lying. I seriously don't care that much about the topic. I just like to think that after having the exact same wardrobe for almost my entire life, I'd know just what it is I'm wearing."
A cute little horsey snort. ...'Horsey'? Maybe I should consider readjusting my priorities and looking for a way home before I'm fully repaired if I'm going to be using language like that. "Well, you don't," Gray says disapprovingly. "You can swear to Celestia if you want that you're wearing a bodysuit. That does nothing to change the fact that you're wearing a unitard and it means that you lied to the Princess."
"What it means is that I'm confident in what I'm wearing and I'm willing to stick to what it's supposed to be." I waggle a finger in denial--no, closer to refutation. That's more like it. It's a much better word. "Oaths and lying have nothing to do with it. It's a bodysuit, and nopony or no one is going to tell me otherwise."
Gray takes flight and hovers up to eye level, bringing me to a stop. "And yet that's what I'm doing anyway. The worst you can do to me is tell me I'm wrong, which I'm not. Taking a stand is all well and good if you have the know-how to back it up. If you don't, then you've done nothing but embarrass yourself in front of the entire community."
"Kind of hard to be embarrassed about being correct, Gray." I smirk, giving her the expression that I normally reserve only for potentially life-ending opponents. "Unless it's something that you preferred that you weren't correct about. You can stop arguing with me about this at any time."
"This isn't an argument," Gray denies. "It's a discussion. Arguments have a lot more yelling, nopony wants to admit they're wrong, and they typically end with everypony angry about things they really should not be angry about. So far we've only got one of those."
"You're being as logical as you can right now," I point out. "Isn't that technically an argument?"
"No."
"Oh? Why not?"
"You told me not five minutes ago that 'definitions can go hang'." There's a little smirk of her own on Gray's muzzle now. "Is that something else you're lying about?"
I don't know what's more amazing: that she's actually going through with this, or that I think I'm starting to have fun. "Well, if you're not presenting an argument, what would you call it then?"
"Just basic dialogue."
"Not quite, Gray. Basic dialogue is along the lines of 'Hello, how are you?' 'Oh, I'm fine. You?' 'The same, thank you.' Nothing too complex, unlike everything you've said up until now."
"What, like 'that's a unitard you're wearing'?"
"Yes, and just like 'no, that's a bodysuit I'm wearing'. That's complex dialogue, not basic."
"Sounds like 'basic' to me."
"It only seems like that, trust me. The truth is far more complicated."
"All a matter of definition, and we stopped caring about that a while back."
"No, I stopped caring about that. You're still trying to fight me with logic."
"Sounds like you're admitting that you calling that a bodysuit doesn't make sense. It's a unitard, Leviathan."
"You're not going to win this one. If I say it's a bodysuit, then it's a bodysuit."
...
...
A short ways down the street, two random ponies bemusedly listened to Gray and the creature bicker. "How long do you think they'll keep talking about absolutely nothing?" one said to the other.
"I'll say... fifteen minutes."
"I'm thinking closer to twenty."
"You're on. Let's check it out."
Our "discussion" was interrupted about twenty-one minutes later by the sound of coins hitting the sidewalk. We looked down to see six bits scattered around, and eight ponies watching us with wide eyes. "...What?" the both of us ask as one.
"Um..." one of the spectators speaks up after some hesitation. He smiles as he gains enough confidence to continue. "Your act was funny. How often are you in Manehattan?"
Gray looked at me, her face mirroring the confusion I was feeling. "Act...?" she mouthed.
I scan over the group's faces. They seemed to have been entertained by it all, so I hated to let them down like this, but... "Sorry, folks, but we didn't put this on for entertainment. Gray just doesn't want to admit that I know what I've been wearing for the last three decades."
"And Leviathan just doesn't want to admit that she doesn't," Gray added. I glance at her sideways, but she just smiles unapologetically.
"If I may, that was an incredibly smooth delivery for something unrehearsed," a pony with a very high-class demeanor comments. She's weighed down by two suitcases and a bulky carrying case of some kind on her back, though it doesn't look like it's bothering her. 'Earth pony', I remind myself. Nifty little bowtie she has there. "Imagine what you could do if you planned those out. Have you ever considered a career in vaudeville or similar?"
I give Gray a raised eyebrow... or at least try to, since they're both concealed under my helmet. She catches on to my confusion and quietly offers a quick definition of the term, leading me to shake my head. "Sorry, but no. I've got other plans, so I don't see myself walking the stage anytime soon." Or ever.
"The same," Gray adds. "I'm happy with my life as is. Thanks for the compliment, though."
The high-class pony smiles gracefully. "You're welcome. I had to ask."
The group dispersed, with those who had tried to donate bits reclaiming them before leaving. There were a few chuckles as they talked about what they had just seen. I huffed a little to myself. I'm not getting how something like my choice of clothing could be considered humorous by others.
I don't think these ponies are mind readers, but looking at my companion, one starts to wonder. "I guess we got a bit carried away there," Gray admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck and giving me a chance to admire these creatures' flexibility. "Don't look so upset. You were enjoying yourself through all that. I can tell."
"...You're not wrong," I answer in the affirmative as I let her continue to lead me. The discussion itself had been fun, even if Gray's insistence on being wrong bordered on the ridiculous. "So, where to?"
The pegasus surveys the street we're on. "Hmm... last time I was here was a few months ago, and that was just to buy my earrings," she comments. "Not too familiar with what they're have, but I don't have to be. You can typically tell who they sell to with just a look..." She focuses on a two-story building a few doors down, its 'Open' sign indicating its status. "And there we go. Come on."
The advertisement posted behind the store's window display catches my attention immediately. I'm not unfamiliar with minotaurs, since Neo Arcadia's Mass Driver transportation team boasted a Reploid based on one (the fact that I have never met said Reploid notwithstanding). I do wish I could have seen it coming; we've had pegasi, unicorns and griffons so far, so having other mythological beings join in seems like a reasonable assumption to make in retrospect. I guess if they have to have bipeds here, minotaurs are an obvious pick.
The minotaur in the advertisement, assuming that's what they really look like and aren't just being exaggerated for the sake of the illustration, is appropriately well-built and is adorned with a suit jacket, shirt and tie. No pants, though I've concluded that they're available if they're really needed; one of the ponies watching my skit with Gray earlier was clearly wearing a set of trousers. I'm not delusional enough to believe I'm as stocky as one of these, but maybe finding something for me here won't be too hard...?
Octavia Melody took a look behind her one last time as she walked, seeing the pegasus follow her unnerving but ultimately benign partner into one of the specialty stores. Doesn't surprise me, she thought as she focused her eyes on the street ahead. Poor thing looked like she had been subjected to a pack of timberwolves. If something like that happened to me, I'd want to hide my wounds too.
She had gotten a letter back from Canterlot just a few days before, approving her for a new job there that would begin the following week. She'd taken action immediately, selling items she couldn't bring with her and finding a rental house in the town of Ponyville where she could practice in peace. Just this morning she had turned over her apartment key and her final month's rent to her superintendent, grabbed what she had packed and started her journey towards the train station to catch the next ride out. The impromptu performance by the two-legged creature and the strange pegasus had stalled her, but she figured she still had plenty of time to reach the station.
It's little things like that act that made life in Manehattan worth living. I'll miss having a residence here, but it's high time I closed that chapter of my life and moved on to the next. She smiled eagerly as she imagined what awaited her at her new job. Adjusting to a more quiet life in Ponyville feels a bit daunting, but I could use the solitude for practicing. I wonder what my landlord's like? Hopefully, whoever it is will be the understanding sort and won't complain about the constant noise too much.
...
Given that the store just opened, it's no shocker that there aren't any other customers in yet. So when the proprietor ducks through an office doorway into the store proper, there's nopony present to see how dilated my eyes are right now.
There's no doubt that who I'm looking at is the largest sapient biological entity that I've ever seen in my life. I make that distinction because I've seen a few whales that haven't yet gone extinct. You know how when people say "That's a lot of bull", they're typically using watered-down profanity? Not in this case: this is literally a lot of bull that I'm staring at.
The beast before me stands a full two hundred centimeters tall (or right around six feet and seven inches, depending on your measurements of choice), being the first one here I've met that was either eye level or higher. I'm really hoping that those massive arms are just for show, because they look like they could use wrecking balls as flails. Its fur is a crimson color, which shifts to maroon from the waist down. It walks on hooves, but it actually has hands on its arms--four-digit hands, but hands all the same.
And for reasons I don't understand, it's wearing a vest with a pair of wings stitched into the collar. It would probably be amusing if the one wearing it wasn't so intimidating.
"Welcome to The Big and Taur Shop," the minotaur rumbles. The voice is clearly female, but she sounds like she's mimicking an earthquake. "I work with two-legged folk and ponies who are too big for their britches. I'm the store owner, Bossa Nova. And you can shut your mouth at any time."
Gray reaches over and presses a hoof against my jaw, closing my mouth and bringing me back to my senses. "Sorry about Fairy. First time she's seen a minotaur in person."
"That's not an excuse for poor behavior," Bossa states disapprovingly. "Just because I am tall for my race doesn't give either of you carte blanche to stare." She inspects me for a time, either judging me personally or my damaged attire. Either way, it feels like a giant spotlight's shining down on me. If I had the glands for it, I'd be sweating right now. "I can see why you're here. An Ursa Minor must have tried to maul you recently. Are you looking for someone to mend your suit?"
Gray twitches at this. Before she can continue our 'discussion', I recover enough of my decorum to give Bossa a proper answer. "I can handle that on my own, but thank you," I tell her. My suit and armor are both made of materials that my auto-repair system recognizes, so it can handle that along the way. "I'm actually in the market for a coat, preferably in a shade of blue and long enough to reach my boots. Other than that, I'm not partial. I'm also looking for a purse large enough to hold what's left of my money after my business here is done."
"Then let me get your measurements and we'll work something out for you." Bossa summons a measuring tape from somewhere and beckons for me to follow her. "This way."
While the minotaur's working with me and writing things down, Gray's persistence wins out. She hovers over the dressing room door to make herself visible; not really the sort of thing one should do in most circumstances, but since I'm only getting measured and not trying on everything in the store, I decided to let it pass. "Got a question for you that's been bugging me all morning. That uniform that Fairy's wearing: what would you call that? She calls it a bodysuit, but I think it's more of a unitard."
"Remove that giant wristband you're wearing," Bossa 'instructs' me. With her voice it feels more like an 'order', but I think 'instruct' was what was intended. "Let me see your arm."
Obligingly, I detach one of my arm guards for Bossa to see what's underneath.
The minotaur makes a circle around me, humming thoughtfully, then pinches the fabric on my wrist. "Be honest with Bossa. Does the material on your hands feel like a second skin?"
"No," I say. "I'd describe it as more of a thin glove."
"In which event you're both wrong," she tells us bluntly. "It's unusual in that your outfit covers your hands and presumably your feet, but it's not as form-fitting as a unitard and it doesn't have the structure of a proper bodysuit. It would be more accurate to call this a jumpsuit."
Aaaand just like that, we've been subject to an artillery strike. Some would probably continue to argue the point, but as for me personally, it doesn't make sense to argue with someone who far out-masses me (at least in a non-combat situation). Gray and I trade defeated eyes as I re-equip my arm guard. "Well, I did tell you earlier that I knew next to nothing about fashion..."
"That makes two of us."
"So instead of the 'pick what you like' phase, we'll head straight for the 'Bossa picks for you' phase," the owner decides. There's just nothing about her that's upbeat. "I've narrowed down my choice to twelve different possibilities. Would you be inclined to buy a hat with your coat?"
"I'll just stick with my helmet, thank you."
"Seven possibilities. Short sleeves or long?"
"Long."
"Four possibilities. Lightweight material, or fit for winter?"
"Lightweight."
"Two possibilities. And you've already said that you prefer it in blue, so that leaves only one choice. Follow me, please," Bossa requests 'politely', exiting the dressing room and pulling me with her. Again, wrecking balls as flails.
...
It amazes me that she was able to decide so quickly what I needed. I'm wondering if that was a fluke, or if Miss Musclebound has a good head for this...
...because the coat she's pulled off a rack and showing to me looks like it'll fit me perfectly. The color's perfect, the length is ideal, the sleeves are just roomy enough to accommodate my arm guards, and... getting permission to try it on here, excuse me a moment... yes. It's neither too snug nor too loose. This, I decide, will be my souvenir when I go home.
Sensing my satisfaction, Bossa leads me to a small section of the store where assorted purses, handbags, and... uh... "Gray, what's the equivalent of these for ponies?"
"Saddlebags."
Right, those. Anyway, there's a decent selection of carrying cases here. I appraise their sizes and carrying capacity, thinking carefully about how much is in the Police bag before selecting one. My choice is less of a pink purse and more of a puce shoulder bag, but a lot of money deserves a lot of space. It's the only color for this size available, and I'd rather not be too picky.
...
"I have to say," I comment when we arrive at the front counter, Bossa stepping behind it to total up my acquisitions. "I'm very impressed with your efficiency. This didn't take anywhere near as long as I'd feared."
The only response I received was a noncommittal grunt. Seriously, I'm trying to pay you a compliment here.
"We didn't catch you on a bad day, did we?" Gray wonders. "I mean, we could have just come back another time."
The minotaur sighs heavily, folding her arms. "Don't want to give false impressions, so listen to me. I hate this job. I hate everything that goes with it. Just because you like what you're buying doesn't make me any happier. I am only in this line of work because arm wrestling doesn't pay the bills. Had I the choice, I would turn this shop over to another."
"Arm wrestling?" I gently ask.
"Yes." Bossa smiles for the first time since we walked in, and it doesn't take perfect vision to see the pride on her face. "Back in my homeland, there is a yearly series of competitions that revolve around strength and ingenuity, with the overall winner receiving a tidy sum and plenty of prestige. As you can figure, arm wrestling is one of those events. I've been a first- or second-place finisher for the past five years." The smile fades to a frown. "But there are few here in Equestria who are willing to challenge me. They are either scared of me or of my strength, but either way they are scared of failure. It leaves me with little to do but run this shop to make ends meet. I have no choice but to be familiar with what I sell, customer. Am I good at this? Yes. Do I enjoy it? No."
...Well. Put it that way, I feel kind of bad for thinking of her as just a brute with a brain. "Two weeks," I say as an idea pieces itself together.
Gray's eyes widen, and Bossa perks up. "What's this, now?"
"Two weeks. That's my best estimation for when I'll be fully recovered," I tell her, trying to hide a measure of eagerness. It won't be like fighting Zero by any means, but I'll take it anyway. It isn't as if searching for a way home is going to take all of my time, is it? I could use the challenge. "I can't do anything about your job, but I can at least make it somewhat more bearable."
Bossa seems almost hopeful, but then she deflates. "Bossa admires your enthusiasm but pities your scrawniness. How much effort can you really put in?"
"How much effort does it take to send somepony flying through deep water?" I ask. "You might be reading about it eventually, but I'll tell you now: I'm a warrior by nature. What sort of warrior would I be if I didn't have confidence in my strength? Give me two weeks to return to full power." I look her in the eyes and grin. "Arm wrestling might not be my idea of a good time, but I'm still willing to give it a go."
I raise my hand towards Bossa for her to shake, and she slams her hand against it. The glass in the window display rattles a little, but my arm doesn't budge. "You never formally introduced yourself, challenger," she rumbles, smirking as she puts emphasis on the term. "Who will I be pitting myself against?"
"Fairy Leviathan. The Siren General of Neo Arcadia's Deep Sea Squadron."
"Accepted. Two weeks time, ten in the morning, outside of this shop. Be here." Bossa lets go of my hand, dropping her smirk as she gets back to business. "As for your purchase, the coat and the shoulder bag total 700 bits together. Judging from that sack you're carrying, I can only assume you have enough..."
It takes some time to count off what I owe, but between the three of us it doesn't take as long as it normally would have. When I leave the shop it's with an empty Police bag in my hand, a replacement on my shoulder, the remainder of my reward money and Heartbreakers contained in said replacement, and a lovely ocean-blue buttoned-up coat hiding the worst of my injuries from the world.
I wish I had a clever one-liner for this situation, but none comes to mind. I'll just be happy with what I have and be done with it.
Gray wants to head for a different store, this time to do a bit of her own shopping. I don't want to keep this money longer than I have to, so this time it's me in the tagalong role. On the way, the sneaky cat decides that she wants more information on me. "Got another question, Fairy. Have you ever removed your helmet in your life?"
"No. As a combat Reploid, I must always be ready to fight at a moment's notice. Why?"
Gray just looks inquisitive at this. "I was looking at it and wondering if Reploids have manes of their own, is all."
"Depends on the Reploid and what they're modeled after," I explain. "If they're based on animals, they usually don't. Those that more closely resemble our creators are given a full head of hair depending on design choices. Artificial hair, yes, but still hair." Please don't ask me further, please don't ask me further---
"Have you ever wondered what your hair looks like?"
...Blast it. "Not often, Gray. Unlike some who obsess over their hair, I don't consider it a concern. I've always had higher priorities to deal with, and I'm not inclined to think about it now."
Gray doesn't press the topic, shrugging and falling silent as we continue walking. Silently, I'm relieved. I've had a few casual conversations over the years, and at least two of them have delved into the topic of how I look without my helmet. It's true that I've had a multitude of other concerns, but it's also true that part of me's afraid to look in a mirror, remove my helmet, and view that aspect of my appearance firsthand. The one time I contemplated checking, I just stood there with my hands near my head for two full minutes before finally just giving up. I couldn't bring myself to do it.
If I'm ever going to find out it'll be while I'm here in Equestria, but the trick will be forcing myself to go through with it. When I'm back in Neo Arcadia, the time for such trivialities will be gone, and I'll never get that chance again.
Contrary to what I said, I'll have to think about it later.
The first link leads to an instrumental of "Yumemiru Dake Ja Dame", Usagi's image song from the original Sailor Moon. I thought about using the original, but I decided that the singing was a bit too distracting. The second link leads to the Colossus' stage music from Spyro 2: Ripto's Rage!.
I had a lot of fun writing that first scene. Such a basic question, and yet it's not very easily answered. 
Regarding Leviathan's explanation on hair, I just had it as "a full head of hair" at first. Then I remembered the baldness that is Sigma. I'd just about finished a Mega Man X playthrough for my channel around the time I started the story, so I shouldn't have forgotten that. 
Laugh if you want, but Bossa Nova strikes me as the sort of name that a powerful minotaur would have in the MLP-verse.
As a reminder, I'll be having next Thursday and Friday off, and possibly Wednesday too. As such, I'll be taking a short break from writing as well. I'll still be keeping an eye on comments and such, but that's about it. Ciao mein, everyone, and I'll see you when I return.
P.S. Not looking forward to taking Humira. Here goes nothing...
Estimated Update Deadline: December 6, 2021
EDITED 6-30-2022: Added a few extra words to the start of the discussion to account for Gray's earlier description of Fairy to Ebony.
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I think she had made a new friend! Also poor Octavia she has no clue what she is in store for.
so this is set before Octavia moved in with Vinyl? Interesting. Also good to see you are making friends and having a warddrobe upgrade.
Loved the update, keep up the great work!
Yes another lovely update. ^^ And a potential rival in a sense for levihithan.
I do recall seeing one web comic (that is now sadly defunct) that all of the Guardians were bald under their head except Phantom, much to their embarrassment.
But honestly Fairy could have almost anything under there, but I doupt it would be poofy.
11057934
I honestly wish I could have seen that.
Momma Bossa will take care of you, one way or another! 😉
> It's a place where they can go if they're blue or otherwise don't know where to go to. This is where fashion sits in Manehattan.
PUTTIN ON THE RITZ
11210052
Glad that someone finally caught that. >^_^<
She's aquatic. Of course she's bald.
Become human
It is incredibly gratifying to see that someone else has also gone through the trouble of researching the differences between jumpsuits, unitards, and bodysuits instead of lumping everything under "bodysuit."
When the shopkeeper's unhappiness was revealed I thought she would end up a sidekick. She might still.end up as that, but it would take some convincing for Levi to allow a flesh sophont to risk themselves that way.
"Bos" is part of the scientific name of "normal" cattle. Thus BOSsa Nova works well I think?
11827067
Thanks for pointing that out!
...Wow, I did not know that.