/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>366389
>>366392
>green
>Enjoy...or don't.
I did. Thank you.
And like it or not, you little faggot, you need to Twilight for discipline and Trixie for cuddling.

>>366392
I think I'll continue this. Not much else going on in my life and I don't feel like socializing.

>Twilight was more forgiving than you feel you deserved.
>When she came in, you hadn't heated a frying pan yet, and so she offered to help you flip the hotcakes.
>Despite everything, you still had to swallow your pride to let her help.
>It's more than just feeling feeble and useless, but you can't think to put it into words. At least not articulately.
>The nagging thoughts are shut up temporarily as the two of you reap the fruits of your labor.
>She was even nice enough to pull out that vodka she brought home and mix it with some OJ for a screwdriver.
>God, though, your eyes still hurt a little. Having such long eyelashes makes the aftermath of every petulant cry session feel like ramming facefirst into a cactus.
>As you come down from the high of warmth that comes from the hot midday meal and gentle buzz of liquor, Pur....Twilight gives you a small pat on the back.
>"Did you want to do anything else today? I could help you find the Crusaders, or we could go to the market square. Not too much is on my agenda, for once."
"Ah...I think I'm gonna go for a walk on my own today. But thank you."
>"Of course! Do you need anything for the trip, or you just want to pack your own satchel?"
>"I'll be fine with some water."

>With that, the two of you clean up the mess, and you venture off.
>You have a pretty good idea where you want to go, and it's thankfully not very far from the castle.
>You don't even need to take a sip of water before you cross a small bridge, silently appreciating the sight of the animal nursery in all its rustic comfort.
>You smell tea from outside. Not cultured enough to guess by the scent but it seems sweet, not too bold.
>You knock, and before you even hear the mare inside respond, you see a pair of yellowed eyes appear right in the middle of the door, accented by white eyebrows.
>You hear his voice slightly muffled from the inside:
<"Ah, that was quick. I'll get the door for you, come right in."
>The door swings open, but he's not visible at the front door. You follow the scent toward the source, and you see the telltale swishing of a pink tail as the mare quietly hums to herself, dicing vegetables and preparing some salmon for her bear friend.
>All while Discord relaxes with some of that tea, naturally.
"Hey Ye--....F-Fluttershy."
>"Oh!" She turns around, cleaning off her dripping knife. "I heard Discord paid you a nice visit this morning. Did you want to follow up with him, or did you have something else on your mind?"
"I wanted to thank you. Whatever the motivation was, having him come by when he did helped a lot. And I wanted to pay you a visit instead of holing myself up in the crystal castle."
<"That's the spirit. I hope you flossed this morning though, because socializing with enough of these little ponies may risk a cavity or two."
>A little wink from the draconequus, and an encouraging smile from both hosts as Flutters gets to tossing all her ingredients into salads.
>You spot the devil-rabbit as he hops up and snags a small tomato from the bowl, seeming quite satisfied.
>"Do you like tea?"
"Oh, I'll be okay on the beverages front, had orange juice and now I got water, should keep me going till dinnertime. But thank you."
<"Am I wrong in assuming that orange juice had an extra kick added to it?"
>Your face warms up a bit at the acknowledgement, and your voice catches in your throat.
"J...just a little bit of liquid courage. Not a whole lot."
>Fluttershy seems unaware of what the two of you are referring to, but politely allows the embarrassment to subside for a moment before she speaks.
>"Whatever you need to get out there and meet some ponies is okay by me. If you ever need some...herbal remedies to relax, I do know somepony."
"Oh god, if I got hooked on the devil's lettuce too I'd probably be even more of a mess. But if if you know someone who sells tea, that'd be great. Twilight's coffee is a bit too much for me."
>"Actually, yes, Zecora has a lot of tea leaves."
"Zecora...oh, you mean the zeeb lady deeper in the woods. I guess I could pay her a visit sometime."
>"Look at you! Already full of ideas. All it took was a bit of time out of that stuffy castle and you're coming up with plans. I think you'll be making lots of friends in time, Anonymous."
>That condescending tone irks you, but you can't say no to the cute mare. You silently swallow a little more pride, trying not to notice Discord's silent chuckle at your expense.
"Ba....uh, small steps. I wanna find something I'm decent at first, instead of jumping into hijinks with the three little hellions."
>"Nothing wrong with being a utilitarian. Just remember not to strain yourself, okay? You are just--"
>She catches herself, clearing her throat.
>"I mean, your body..."
"I get it. I'm a kid."
>The mood pretty quickly dampens at that.
>"I'm sorry Anon. You know I don--"
"Don't mean it. I know. I know."
>God, not those big teal eyes...
"It's-- it's fine, seriously. I've heard it before."
>"Well...I'm still sorry."
"I should probably get going, not a lot of hours in the day. Thanks for the hospitality."
>Discord waves a white kerchief your way as though you were boarding a cruise ship, and with that you leave them to start feeding their animals.
>Despite her accommodating attitude and clearly accidental faux-pas, you still feel a little bit of resentment inside.
>If you weren't an alien or a filly, they wouldn't be tiptoeing around you and treating you like a charity case.
>You should have just practiced your hoofwriting and sent her a note. This whole trip was fubar.
>You bite your lower lip at these thoughts, shaking your head. Shut up, brain.

>>366425
>You soon find yourself trotting through the park, spotting a mare with minty looking hair and a green coat, strumming a lyre.
>She watches birds and ponies enjoying themselves in the cool shade of a thin cloud hung above, which you imagine to be a really nice accommodation for the parkgoers.
>The bench she's on has plenty of room on it, and the ground beside her seat has a nice big jar with a small chunk of bits in them.
>It's obvious this isn't her main job, or she'd be quite poor; either that, or it's not about the money to begin with.
"Howdy, can I sit here?"
>"Of course. Want me to play anything for you?"
"I....don't know any song names."
>"That's not a problem, hun. Do you have a mood in mind?"
"I dunno. Just do what you want, no biggie, you look happy doing that."
>She stops strumming, turning her full attention to you as you climb up and sit beside her.
>"Oh this? It's just a melody I play when I've got something on my mind and need to think on it."
"Yeah?"
>"Yeah, not too fast, not too complicated or jazzy, not really sad or happy. Just, uh..."
"White noise?"
>"Yeah. That seems like a good way of putting it. What's your name?"
"Anonymous. Most ponies call me Anon."
>"Lyra Heartstrings. Lyra's good to me as well. What brings you out here, Anon?"
"I dunno. Just needed to get out."
>"Sounds like more than that, hon. Need an ear?"
"No, no, really, it's fine."
>She raises an eyebrow, not buying it, but she drops it.
>"So you said you don't know any song names. Got any melodies you can hum? Might recognize them."
"Uhhh...if you recognize them, that'd be a miracle."
>"Hipster?"
"What-- no, shut up...I just come from...another place."
>"You don't sound it. No thick accents. Plus, I get around."
>You can't help but let out a small groan.
"I can whistle out some melodies, but seriously you won't recognize them."
>"You're on shortie."
>You give your best approximation of a familiar song, gently rapping your hoof on the wooden bench to keep rhythm as you whistle the basic melody of the song.
>After about 40 seconds of whistling, you look to her, and she mirrors it back with surprising precision.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VHvutlgf80
>When she repeats it again, you feel a strange sort of comfort. The song certainly couldn't be explained with whistling on its own, so you couldn't get her to follow along if she tried, but the fact you got to remember a song like that is nice.
>If there's one thing you can say you were good at growing up, it's absorbing media and remembering even the smallest details.
>"You know, Anon, that's a really interesting song. Awfully short, but repeating it is relaxing in its own way. What's it called?"
"Lateralus. The song has more, but....it's a complicated song. Plays with rhythms and stuff, really isn't something I could convey with my hooves and a whistle."
>"A lot of layers, eh? Could scrounge up a band with a cellist I know providing backing, one day. She's a bit too upper crust to play on a park bench in a podunk town like this though."
"Hey, don't diss the country. The city's not all it's cracked up to be either."
>"You have experience with the city?"
"A whole lifetime of it, actually."
>"But you couldn't be older than eight."
"It's really complicated. You'd be better off asking Twilight Sparkle the mechanics of it all. I used to be a human, and you might have met me when I first arrived, but I guess this world doesn't like humans. Maybe because we're not really...magicky."
>"Not magicky?"
"Yeah, like...home's not a lot like this place. But, this is my lot in life now."
>"Actually...I think I've seen some stuff about humans before. Big tall fellas, got hands like minotaurs, not a lot of hair, right?"
"Yeah. But it's not like....the humans Twilight knows about. Most of us didn't have multicolored skin, it was usually somewhere between peachy and a really dark brown, and our hair was black, brown, red, or a sandy blonde color."
>"Fascinating! And how was life for you back there?"
"Like I said...not a fan of cities. Really didn't have anything worth a damn to give back to society though, spent most of my time playing games, avoiding the mirror, and hiding from the sun."
>"Well, the sun won't hurt you here, Anon. Maybe this is like a new start, yeah? You could pick up an instrument, share music with ponies. If you could put pen to paper on this stuff, you could be pretty popular as a composer or join the choir."
"God, in front of all those ponies? I'd be a mess on stage. I saved that kind of activity for karaoke night at the bar..."
>"Oh, so you like to sing, huh? Surprised I didn't see you busting out the singing voice during Winter Wrap-Up, hehe. A little egg-nog is all I need to enjoy myself during those festivities. Can't say whether it improves my singing, but Bonnie seems to like it."
>Shoulda known she liked girls.
>"Anyways. Nice chatting!"
"Oh, yeah. Same to you."
>She gazes out to the park, and it seems to be getting close to sunset.
>The ponies are dispersing, and the birds are returning to their nests as the sparse clouds turn a pleasant pink.
>"Before you go, do you have any songs you wanna sing? You can hum or whistle the first part, catch your breath and I can play for you."
>You think for a while, taking a sip of your water. You do actually feel like singing, even if your squeaky filly voice is a little distracting...perhaps a song that's not too dependent on vocal range?
>As she plays, you aid in keeping rhythm with your hoof again.
>It takes a little while to get up the courage or recklessness to start singing:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDdiyDTTZn4

If my prayer goes unanswered, that's alright
If my path fills with darkness and there's no sign of light
Let me praise you for the good times, let me hold your banner high
Until the hills are flattened and the rivers all run dry

And I won't get better
But someday I'll be free
'Cause I am not this body
That imprisons me

>>366427
>a Christian green
Refreshing.

>>366429
If that's what you get from it. Isaiah 45:23 as a song takes obvious inspiration, but the song is more about someone doing what they can to stay optimistic as their health deteriorates. Romans 10:9 is emblematic of that same theme. Darnielle was a victim of religious abuse as a kid.

>>366427
>Your encounter with Lyra managed to awaken something inside you.
>Hard to say what, but it's tinged with nostalgia for the music you listened to instead of talking with classmates or listening to family arguments.
>You want to spread human music to Equestria, at least the punk and countercultural stuff that makes you feel a little less like a massive faggot.
>You've taken to helping ponies around town for chump change while Twilight does princess things, between helping Fluttershy cook (and missing the fuck out of meat) and helping the Apples sell their stuff.
>After two weeks, you can afford a quality looking acoustic guitar.
>Six strings, a little hard to handle, but if you sit on your haunches and rest the body in your lap...
>The instrument is a tad bulky for a f- person of your stature.
>But with this machine in your hooves, you have a feeling things are gonna be okay.

>A few weeks of by-ear playing later, you've translated three songs into a slightly simplified system to make up for your slower, less fancy playing.
>You revisit Lyra's park bench at dawn, same day of the week as before, and strum a few practice notes.
>A few ponies wander by, but it's not populous enough for the mason jar to be filled today.
>But it's not about the money...it's about sending a message.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnYfytuReMU
I swear I'll run away
From every home I ever have
So I'll build a new house
In every town I pass
Maybe then I won't always feel lost and trapped.

When I was growing up
I was the smartest kid I knew
Maybe it's just because
I didn't know that many kids
All I know is now I feel the opposite.

>By this point ponies are actually coming around, gathered to hear your amateur fretwork.
>Of course this part isn't what you wanted to sing this for.
>Your throat tenses up, anticipating the strain that you know is coming.

Like if you don't wanna work
Then that becomes your job
There's a lot of overtime
There's not many days off
I hope you know that I'm not trying to complain
It just gets hard to explain
To people that I know
Or kids who come to shows
That I just don't wanna talk about the- OFFICE TODAYYY!

>Ponies jump back at the shouting of the last line.
>Only to be expected; most pony music isn't like this, even the rare rock-type songs utilizing tabletop steel guitars. In your fleeting research it seems this place is stuck in the vaudeville era with little hints of rockabilly and disco.
>You focus on the strings for a bit, but as you prepare to sing the next verse, you spot a few familiar faces in the small crowd you gathered.
>One is minty-fresh Lyra, looking quite pleasantly surprised to see you in her spot; the other is Fluttershy, saddlebags full of groceries and ears folded down in worry as she keeps to the back of the crowd.
>You keep singing, knowing that a good chunk of the human euphamisms to drugs or household names won't make much sense to any ponies here.
>You close your eyes, relying on muscle memory to guide you along the fretboard.
>You hear concerned murmuring and comiserating among them, but you are more concerned with finishing your song.
>The vulgarity of the end certainly puts a few ponies off, but a few stick around, including the mares you know.
>After some bits clink into your jar, you take a break to drink some water and clear your eyes.
>Fuck, did you just cry a little?
>Lyra comes up and sits beside you, smiling.
>"More human music? Sounded good, definitely emotive."
"Yeah, I ah...felt that would be a good debut to folk punk."
>"Folk punk, huh? Interesting. But what the hay's a stay-at-home archaeologist?"
>Oh dear, this might get hard to explain.
"Uhh...do ponies have opioids?"
>"Opioids?"
"Like...in the hospital do you have pain relievers that go in your veins to put you under?"
>"Ohhh...so, what's the archaeology part mean?"
"Well...they dig skin deep to find a vein, inject the stuff, and spend their time, uh...zombied out."
>"I...think I get it. Why would anyhuman do that though?"
"Well, same reason I drank, I guess..."
>"Damn..."
>A long silence passes, and you look outward to spot a few stragglers chattering between each other. Fluttershy seems intent on listening from a respectful distance now that she knows you're socializing with somepony in a positive way.
>It's like she's cheering you on, despite being a wallflower herself. It's...comforting.
"Hey Heartstrings?"
>"Yeah?"
"Thanks for giving me ideas last month. Not to sound sappy but being here almost let me forget this music. Happy to have some way to get my blood pumping."
>"You were certainly...animated."
"One might say singing like that is enough to make anyone aaaa........."
>You keep your mouth open, having a hard time keeping from laughing.
>"What--"
"A little hoarse?"
>She seems not to get it at first, but when she does a snort escapes her and she turns her red face away.
"Still got it, hehehe."

>>366440
Had this idea of Anonfilly starting off with angry music just as a vent and tie to home but indirectly leading ponies astray from magic, because the spread of this music ends up tainting them with chaos.
But I would be at this for far too long just establishing the bits of that, and I'm already so off the reservation it would be a mess anyway. Another green left out to dry. What else is new.

>>366530
Option #3
That's like the Incredible Hulk, only with Filly, and probably somehow more destructive too. Makes sense since filly is green.

>Be me
>Camera zooms in from above and focuses on a green bush.
"Rainbro that's the Bush."
>Refocusing on a horsfucker of a man.
"I'm- OOOUUHHHO!"
>Pink blur right at wizing level doing the woodpecker.
>"Haha, we sure got him this time Pinks."
>The pink blur in question pulled a sign out of her mane. Although the shaking of the camera makes it hard to make out some details, but feminine moans are recorded.
<9969 - 701
>He starts glowing ever increasing and the camera sees the long grass looking at a pink flank.
>"Mmmm yummy!"
"Ha! I'm out early, yo Pank Po I'll get you sumthin nice from-Mmf!"
>The horsfucker of a man now a fuckedhosr got snowballed by Pinkie Pie.
>She pulls one more sign out of her mane.
<9969 - 702
>A suspiciously purple voice comes from the bush.
>"Well done girls, now let's get to the operating room."
>Pony flank flanks the smoll hosr forced into the tree library still being aggressively kissed by Pinkie Pie.
>All the ponies gone and the door closes.
>The ambience of Ponyville as yet another Thursday passes by.
>Eventually Twilight Sparkle purple unicorn with a satisfied smile turns off the camera.

>>366440
>Be the filly.
>Whatever you say, boss...your eyes are stuck shut with the glue of puffy eyes and eyelash-sand.
>You shift your leaden skull off of the surface that it was resting on, only to hear a few quiet 'pings' from your sideways movement.
>Your neck hurts, and your flank feels like you've been sitting pretty on concrete for days.
>Your eyes tear right open as you realize where you're seated.
>You had been up late into the night practicing on a few new instruments.....and perhaps drinking a few pints...
>...of vodka.
>Turns out, with a few vigilant talent-seekers coming through Ponyville and talking between each other the last few months, you've actually been picked up!
>Part of you is excited to
>While Pur....Twilight is more than proud of you being able to make money, she still insists that you avoid touring and keep living with her, for the time being.
>Hey, it's free rent.
>That stray thought makes you feel pangs of guilt, starting from the tip of your useless little horn and shivering its way to your flanks.
>You hear the intrusive thoughts getting louder: 'She's not just your landlord, she's your friend. Even if she is a little pushy about getting you to socialize. She cares. You piece of shit. You owe her the company at least. Drink some water, you shitfaced horse.'
>Shit, yeah, now you're awake.
>You bop yourself on the side of your snout, before you sit upright and blink the mismatches out of your crossed eyes.
>You shakily manage to nudge yourself off the piano bench and land on all fours, though not without a stumble and a sickly belch.
>Tomorrow night you'll be playing with a small band for a club a few hundred strong. You don't even remember the name of the joint, but you did put a post-it on the vanity in your room. You spare a glance and-
>....
>Let's not look at the vanity again until the show.
>You contemplate a little hair of the dog, but a gentle knock on the door startles you.
>"Anon? You didn't talk or eat dinner last night. Are you alright?"
>Your lips move before you can stop them:
"I'm not a kid. I didn't have dinner OR breakfast back-"
>Your words catch in your throat when you realize you're raising your voice.
>Best to rip off that band-aid and just open the door.
"Sorry..."
>"It's alright. With the stuff you've been recomposing for Ponyville...I can understand the...aggression coming out sometimes."
>You can't tell her the music isn't at fault, because that might open you up to further questions. So you accept her excuse and nod.
"I'm still sorry. But anyway, I'll be alright with what I dra--eh, ate last night."
>Nice save, dickhead.
>"Well...apology accepted. Do you feel like talki-"
"No."
>She stops mid-word, her head dipping down.
>Your heart aches a little.
>Don't be an ass. At least come up with an excuse.
"I-- I mean, no, like, there's nothing really to talk about. I just felt like a drink."
>She looks over your shoulder.
>You are nowhere near tall enough to conceal the interior from her.
>The floor is littered with bottles. She counts at least five bottles beside your piano itself, and a small pile of malt drinks next to your bed.
>You got a magically-sealed cooler and used it to stuff...liter-bottles of vodka and cheap mixers in.
"Perhaps I get a bit....in-character, when I play."
>"Uhhh, huh..."
>You don't know how to feel about this tone, but it's not deadpan or angry.
>She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but when you look up at her, her horn lights up and you can hear glass clinking.
>"Well, Anon. Why don't we go do something today? I've finished my paperwork for the mayor's office and the stuff left over from this morning can be taken care of by Spike if you want to go anywhere."
>You hum to yourself. You've been able to at least convince one bartender in Creatureville that you're not just a little filly.
>Problem is, he's a griffin, and most of his clientele aren't exactly as calm and kindly as Twilight would appreciate.
>She clearly doesn't like the company you keep, but she keeps her lips sealed about it.
>Let's not...frazzle her too much today.
"Well. We could...go for a little hike in the Everfree. It shouldn't be overly dangerous these days, right?"
>She claps her hooves together with a dull 'clop clop,' wings splayed and her face shining with excitement.
>"Great! I'll pack snacks."
>Your stomach rumbles mere seconds after she's teleported out of earshot.
>You're not sure if you're hungry or you need to find the castle lavatory...
>You stumble out of your room and place all chips on brown.
>Suggesting a hike in your state might have been a mistake.
>Nothing you can do about it now but clean yourself up...

>>366664
>Part of you is excited to
Oops...edit:
>Part of you is excited to become the rockstar, but the rest of you is getting hard to silence.

>>366664
>As you trot along the trail Twilight had paved around the castle's front entrance, the two of you get to lighthearted small-talk about your job.
>There's a lot of budgeting and paperwork, and you're paid based on how much you make for the agency.
>Really, this isn't much different from being a cut rate country musician back home, but despite the snooty Manehattan attitude of your 'guy,' you do appreciate having things to do.
>After some walking, the two of you eat egg-and-daisy sandwiches beside a quietly-roaring rapid, and you enjoy the feeling of mist sometimes brushing your ear while you eat.
>You couldn't tell her what you think of the crowds at this point.
>By now, there's a decent chunk of the Ponyville populace who attend most of your concerts in town.
>You're okay with a few ponies around the park bench, but some of these clubs are really seedy and your tiny filly body simply wasn't made for biker-club looking minotaur or griffin hangouts.
>There seems to be a fair bit of...instability in the audience too, when you play.
>The few who are persistent enough to ask probing questions about you usually get a boilerplate response.
>You don't like to get too personal. This is all just music from back home. Even if...some of it kind of is personal in nature.
>Okay, most of it is.
>You visited a studio the previous day before you came home; you picked out a band of two ponies to work the drums and piano, who are at the moment disposable.
>You silently kick yourself for thinking that thought. They're not disposable. They got horse taxes to deal with too.
>But...it is true, they're only showing up for a couple concerts because the agent wants the accompaniment for some of the songs.
>Otherwise you're mostly stuck to the solo guitar act right now.
>You're getting sick of the guitar.
>You love the sounds it can make...when played right. And you are quite adept at it now.
>But you also feel like a massive tool, even if what you're doing isn't that pretentious.
>Or is it?
"Agh. Shut the fuck uuuup..."
>"Oh, sorry. I'll just..."
"What!? Nonono, sorry, I didn't mean--"
>She quickly shifts from flustered to a more passive concern.
>"Anon....what were you thinking about?"
"Nothing, really. It's stupid."
>"It's not stupid if you're entertaining it in the first place. And especially if you're sounding that angry about it."
>She's got you.
"I don't know. I guess I just wanna do better and I'm not sure I know how. The money's not really that big of a deal even though my agent keeps pushing me to consider money important. At the least, I've paid off the stuff I owe you, at least aside from paying rent--"
>"And you will never, ever have to pay rent around me. Just keep me company once in a while and the debt's zeroed out. Okay?"
"I will, I will."
>Part of you doesn't like the answer you just gave. You don't know why.
>"Anon..."
"What?"
>"That tone of voice says more than the words, you know."
>You glance up at her face, and her stern, yet slightly downtrodden gaze meets yours.
>You feel yourself shrink a little involuntarily.
>"Am I a bad friend?"
>Fuck.
>Panic sets in.
"No I--! Twilight you're great, really! You're doing great, and you are great. You've stuck your neck out for me how many times now? You care, and that's more than I can say for most of the audience at those shows."
>She softens up a little, but seems discontent as she looks forward again.
>"I wish I could get in your head, Anon..."
>You've got to make it up to her. You don't know how but you just do.
>You don't speak for a few minutes. You're simply trying to put how you feel into the right words.
>She's done so much for you.
>You really never deserved her help since going filly. You've been a brat, and an unstable mess at that.
>But she can get so pushy! Sometimes you just wanna stay inside and read some comics, or listen to your home-brewed vinyl records thinking back on your life. Is that so much to ask?
>Thinking back on your life doesn't require half a handle of tequila. She's concerned for you.
>...
>You know what to do.
"Twilight?"
>"Yes?"
"I've got a song I wanna share with you. Personally. No crowd, no record label, just us. I hope that's alright."
>"Of course. Want to head back and 'jam' while we sift through my mail?"
"Sounds perfect. But you'll have to bring it to my room, if that's okay."
>"Why's that?"
"Well I can't rightly carry a piano through that castle, can I? Your paperwork's lighter anyway."
>She chuckles, a wing placed on your back.
>"Alright, fair. But I'm picking up your trash first."
"Oh, alright mom."
>She lets out a little bashful titter, her wing tousling your mane.
>You really don't deserve her.

>>366668
>You enter the castle behind Twilight and quickly prepare for your music, allowing the princess to grab her paperwork.
>She seems hesitant to let you go, like the second she rounds a corner you'll disappear on her or do something dangerous.
>Despite this, you make it to your room and pick songs out from your mental library.
>Something softer, that much is a given.
>
>Your eyes pan across your room, and immediately regret it.
>Maybe this room was a little bit plain when you moved in with the princess, but now...
>Setting aside the bottles and trash, this place has seen better days.
>You haven't opened the blinds in weeks. There's dust on the windowsill and the top of the headboard. The little sunlight that makes it inside shows that the dust isn't localized to those places either, but floating around freely.
>Your bed hasn't been made since the sheets were washed a month ago. The topsheet is all you really use, especially with summer being the way it is.
>Not wanting your room to worsen Twilight's mood, you decide to change this.
>Pulling the bottom sheet from your bed with your teeth is a frustrating ordeal, but you've done it a few times by now.
>You decide to fold the covers and put them atop the stripped bed for now, and you set the bunched up sheets on the bottle-less side of your bed.
>Knocking some of the dust off the windowsill makes you regret your decisions a little, but after a quick sneeze and dusting off your fetlock with your other hoof, you pull the blinds open.
>The sky is gorgeous and brightly lit with only a few thin clouds in sight. Although...your eyes do ache a little, especially after your hung-over hike.
>Note to self: buy shades for future shows.
>"A-Anon??"
>It seems that she's surprised to see you in the sunlight.
>You don't quite understand why, until you glance toward the reflection in your vanity:
>You're a fucking mess.
>You didn't even shower before that hike. Gross.
"Sorry for the mess. If it makes you feel better...I'll keep the blinds open. And...I'll get a bigger wastebasket."
>She lets out a little sigh, approaching your side and resting her wing on your back again.
>She lifts up your vanity and sets it down to her side so she can use it as a desk for her paperwork.
>The sound of her heavy stack of bills and treatises on the thin, simple space makes you jump.
"Goddamn. Er, anyway. There are a lot of songs that popped into my memory the last few months. And...I'm not used to having a band with me, so some of them don't quite translate as well as the folk punk stuff I started with."
>She doesn't reply, simply following along with you as you come to rest on your piano bench.
>Her wing doesn't leave your spine for a single second.
>"Did you have something specific to share with me?"
"Actually...yeah. This one might be easier to understand if I share a few things with you, so feel free to do what you wanna do."
>She doesn't waste a moment, her magic encompassing every remaining bottle in your room. She lifts her other wing, revealing a trash bag.
>The clanking of glass is...distracting. But in a way it also reminds you why you want to play this song for her.
"There's this film back home. It's called...Willard. The main character is a man in a big, worn down home with his mother. He doesn't...have a lot of friends."
>She listens intently, still maintaining the contact and even leaning a bit closer to you.
"His mom gives him a surprise birthday party, and all the guests are her friends. I hope I don't have to explain that it doesn't feel great. So...he leaves. And he feeds bits of his birthday cake to some rats that he finds there. But his mom just sees rats in the house and tells him to take them away and drown them."
>"That doesn't sound like a story with a happy ending."
"Well...this is merely a small portion of the setup. He hears them squeaking and crying and can't bring himself to do it. He keeps these rats as pets instead. And they are his closest friends."
>She smiles gently, hopefully.
>"Does he learn something about finding friendship from..."
>Her words trail off.
>You shake your head, avoiding her gaze.
"No....no. The story gets...grim. But, one of these rats is named after a philosopher from ancient Greece. Socrates."
>She seems to light up, although it's tempered by her misgivings about this story of yours.
"He was a great man. One of the things he is known for is an allegory. Think of a bunch of ponies, who were from a young age, but not from birth, chained to a wall inside of a deep, dark cave. The only things they can see are shadows from the light outside. But, one day, someone manages to escape their restraints and see the outside world. But they can't understand what he's trying to explain..."
>You chuckle slightly at the schizophrenic ramble you feel like you're on.
"But...another time I could give the whole lesson."
>"Of course, Anon. But, what does all of this have to do with this film? And....how does this relate to the song you wanted to play?"
>You wish you could get into it with this cute mare, but...unfortunately, you're a little low on energy today, especially after going on that hike.
"Maybe I should just skip the preamble and get to the song, huh?"
>"Alright. I understand."
>As you begin to tap at the piano to set the rhythm, you glance around the room, to see almost the entire space is cleared.
>Even your sheets have been teleported out, presumably to the laundry room...
"Thanks again Twilight. For the pickup, for accompanying me...for everything."

>Here goes nothing...

>>366680

You know I couldn't hurt a fly, my friend
I'm not the type to step on ants.
I've nearly cried for moths that die at porchlight lamps,
More for the plight of mice than men.

See, I myself have been stepped on so many times,
It's started to feel like my place.
I failed to fit into those nests that scrape the sky.
Is there room for me in your cave?
>You swallow slightly, steeling yourself a little.
>You don't want to fuck this up, not in front of Twilight.
>So you play a brief reprise of the notes to work away the welling of emotions inside you.
>It only takes that verse for her to understand what you're getting at.
>However, the show must go on.

Animals are people too, but these people are animals.
Hunt in packs and act as though it proves they can't survive alone.
And I guess wе just evolved disgust for prevention of infection, though
Shame was an invention made for prisons, pales, and pest control.
Yeah, sure, thumbs are great and all...

But I just get bare necessities,
Hakuna matatas and c'est-la-vies.
Que sera sera's, what a crock, I mean
Big talk for a chimpanzee!

You might seem behind bars, but friend, this cage is inside oouuuut...
It's awful out here, Socrates.

>You can't quite stop yourself from tearing up a little.
>You can't just stop now. There's so much more to say, and you won't accept this private performance unless it's perfect.
>This has been on your chest for far too long.

I've never understood what humans do and want;
It's quite confusing to me to try to connect.
Never learned how I should feel, instincts somehow stunted,
Just seem haunted by my stupid urge to protect.

Until frustration makes me wish my teeth were sharp as yours,
Chew through their garage doors, these carnivores will no more use my heart!
They'll call me crazy but their words all seem made-up to me.
Maybe they just need more friendship like yours!

So gather 'round Pandora's Skinner's Box, look through the one-way mirror.
If you can see in shades of gray the colors are much clearer!
Oh, my friend, you've got a friend in me.
Let's go and make more enemies.
Although my eyes face forward, climb up on my shoulder,
Sure you'll see my point of view, I'd bring you with me

To the office in my pocket, but the world would put us down,
Lock me up and toss the keeee-eeeyyy...
You might seem behind bars, but friend, this cage is inside oooouuut...

It's dangerous out here, Socrates.
It's lonely out here, So-cra-tes...

>You breathe heavily as you play out the small melody at its end, eyes shut and tears streaming down your cheeks.
>Your voice is a lot more ragged than you expected it to get.
>You can't stop a hiccup from coming out, and with that the dam bursts.
>You don't sob loudly. You manage at least a quiet cry, for what that's worth.
>She hugs you closely from your side, gently hushing you.
>She...starts rocking you back and forth in your seat.
>Your eyes open as you stabilize enough for only the occasional shiver.
>"You weren't a pony before. You used to be a human, but you didn't belong there."
>You slowly, reluctantly nod, burying your face in her shoulder.
>"When you came out here, and saw everypony so...peaceful, even sometimes placid and simple, you thought you were...Willard, peering in from the outside, with all the knowledge we lacked. But now, as a unicorn with no magic and no conception of Friendship...you feel as ignorant and lost as the rat must have been. Maybe even moreso."
>You don't respond, simply staying wrapped up in her wings, trying not to make any more of a scene than you already have.
>"I think I understand everything I need to know, Anon. And I hope you know that whatever troubles you, I'll be here to help. Alright?"
>You peer up into her eyes, catching that gentle, sympathetic smile on her face.
>You stay nuzzled up against her for what must have been hours.
>By the time you disconnect, the sun is nearly completely hidden, and the castle and its surrounding clearing is blanketed with an eerie white glow from the moon.
"Thanks Twilight."
>"No, thank you. This is more than you've opened up in a long time...and I think I learned more from that song than from the last year living with you. Let's go out for a bite, how's that sound? Your choice where."
"You know what? Sure. Just...let me take a bath and clean up. I feel even grimier than I did this morning."
>She reaches her hoof over your neck, hugging you tight and squeezing like a heartbeat before she lets you scurry off to the bathroom.

>>366664
Have read this part so far. Rockstar filly is neat. ^^

>>366684
Thank you, and thank you as well for the oekaki.

>>366685
Np. ^^ Hopefully it's the thought that counts even if the I'm not delusional about the qaulity of my drawings ^^I also don't have many fitting pictures for what I wanna express.
>>366668
Now I have read this part.

>>366680
Read this so far.

>>366683
Now, I have read this.

>>366686
>>366687
>>366690
Thank you for the draws, fren. It is indeed the thought that counts ^^

Filly power move: Bump!

>>366728
There's really no point to bumping a thread that's on page 1 of its board as well as the overboard.

>>366729
Yeah, I just wanted to type something with the picture I drew. ^^

>>366683
Great read

Here's my weekly filly tribute.

Filly is sleepy. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

>Mfw..?
What spooked our gal, fellas?

>>366991
Most likely? Niggel's plebbit furry futa history.

Slightly less likely? Unsolicited opinions on pissrahell by mason lodge police officer/alphagoy soup shills.

>>366995
Can we NOT bring him up in every thread, please?

>>366998
Bit disingenuous to complain about that when nigey is shitting everywhere else. Have (you) ever tard wrangle him before?
I remember nige only posts here to tell you how he's too much of a Chad for this "tranny isekai" thread.

>>367001
I am well aware of him. That's besides the point. This thread is about Anon Filly.

Which filly r u? I think I'm the left one.

>>367007
Right one without any doubt.

>>367001
I did that dozens of times. All I got from it was a couple of butthurt mods that wouldn't do the right fucking thing.

>>367007
Left, but it needs pineapple and hot sauce. Maybe some fried rice.

>>367014
>pineapple
>hot sauce
>fried rice
Yacky.

Anyone of you own any filly merch? I don't even own a pony plush. The only thing I own is an old pinkie pie plastic figure I got from buying a girl's magazine.
Ouch. Dat memory. ^^

>>367009
As excepted by a burger? ^^

>>367014
>Left
D: R u using a vpn?

>>367015
R peetzer horse? ^^ >>366747 →

>>367016
>As excepted by a burger? ^^
Shouldn't be a "?" here.

>>367016
>Anyone of you own any filly merch?
Got the V1 and V2 Anonfilly plush what was sold in the /mppp/ threads on /mlp/. Other then that I have a Filly Patch.

>>367018
>then that
than that....? Glim Glam probably know the right grammar here.

>>367016
>As excepted by a burger? ^^
As gimma all that meat.
Burgers are the true food. Pizza.... nah.

>>367023
>Trixiemom
I need moar of this

Trixie leading the anonfilly army.

>>367037
>"Hey, fatso," you hear the voice of Diamond Tiara say from behind you.
>You look back and see that she's not alone, Silver Sppon is tagging along behind her.
>You know you shouldn't reply but you can't help yourself.
"I'm not fat."
>"Oh, sorry. I meant, hey freak."
>She grins a wicked smile at you.
>You turn away from her.
>You're unfortunetly on the backside of the school where few other students are.
>Tiara probably followed her in her aimless wandering and started harassing her here were there basically no witnesses.
>You start to increase your pace to get out of her but despite her short legs, Tiara easily keeps pace with you by lightly jogging.
>She was lighter as well afterall.
>She steps in front of you.
>"What's the rush, huh? Need to pee?" she asks.
"No," you answer back.
>You try to step around her but she moves into the way.
>You stop again as she bodyblocks you again.
>You glare at her for a moment but you look down as you face her gaze.
>"Tiara, let's go a rope-jumping, this is boring," says Silver Spoon as she walk over to Tiara lightly tugging her tail.
>"What? No, rope jumping is lame besides..." Tiara says but trails off as she notices that you have moved passed her while she was distracted.
>She quickly catches up to you.
>Where are you going, huh?" she asks and then punches your barrel right next to where it connects to your hindleg.
>She has been hitting you for so long that she has found your body's weakpoints and has beens tartign to exploit them.
>It really hurts.
"Argghh!" you yell and suddenly you see red.
>Your yell comes out like a booming roar.
>You turn on Tiara and shove her with one hoof.
>She rolls a few feet across the grass.
>You step over her and hoist one of your front hooves into the air, its ready to punch the filly below you.
>Tiara's eyes are wide and her pupilsare pinpricks.
>Her mouth hang slackjawed as she lays on her back.
>You eyes are filled with hate but soon they are filled with uncertainty.
>You just hold your hoof in the air.
>"Anonymous! Don't you dare!"
>You look up and find an angry Cheerilee running over towards the two of you.
>You start to walk away in the opposite direction from your teacher, along the shool building's backside wall.
>"Oh, you don't walk away from me missy. Anonymous stop!" she shouts after you .
>You're anger reignite again.
>Tiara started it.
>You clench your face into a point in subdued rage but your head hangs low.
>"Anonymous, I know you can hear me. Stop right there."
>You anger flares up again and you deliever a punch with all your might into the school building.
>Wood snap and crack.
>Vertical wood ledges and wooden boards shatter and just fall off.
>A spiderweb of crack and dangling wood surrounded crater that you made upon impact.
>As you pull back your hoof, isolating matter that itch but look a bit like yellow cotton falls out of the hoof-sized hole in the wall you created.
>Nopony says anything for a moment.
>The rage is gone now.
>It's almost peaceful after you let it all out but you can feel a dread creeping into your heart.
>You dare yourself to peek over at Cheerilee.
>You find her standing nearby, staring at you in shock.
>Then she gethers herself and says in a quiet voice.
>"I'm gonna call Princess Twilight. We need to discuss this. Until then, I want you to stay in my office."
>You look away.
>That was the one things you didn't wanna hear.

>You're hurting her. Stahp!

>>367038
This has a continuation. I will eventually write it.