>be Anon >You wake up. >Covered head to toe in sweat. >Shouldn't have fallen asleep in your suit again. >The smell of alcohol hits your nose. >Well, alcohol, tears, and sweat. >Anon's Favourite Combo™. >You sit upright on your bed. >The early bright sunlight reflects off of every single thing it can, filling the room with silvery tones. >Dust particles dancing around you, narrowly missing your eyes. >You blink. >Working on autopilot, you find the bottle on the floor and take another swig. >You're gonna turn into a slav with this much vodka in you. >But you don't really care. >Might as well be happy with your shitty life. >You go past your wimpy table and set the wine bottle on it. >You see a half-eaten PB&J. >It's weeks old, but still looks just as shit as when it was fresh. >You feel like that sentence could describe your whole life. >Yesterday you thought that something amazing was gonna happen, though you don't exactly remember what that thing was. >But today you still sense the amazing thing. >And you know you're gonna love it. >Sandwich in hand, you walk over to your balcony. >Open the door. >Take in the air around you. >Have a good look at the morning London. >And take a bite of your BLT. >The fresh lettuce fills you up with energy. >The crispy bacon makes you not regret living. >But you know what would make your life just that bit better. >You turn around to take your bottle. >Then you remember why you were so happy in these last couple weeks. >The portal to Equestria, glimmering in the sunlight with its bare metal and unshielded wires, stands there, ready for you to go through. >A great ring, just big enough for you to fit in, designed to close after a spike in power consumption. >How did you achieve that? >Just got a cheap power bar. It'll die after a single peak of high voltage going through it. >You throw all the stuff you have in your hands and jump towards it. >You visually examine all the loose wires you might've left when you got hammered while working yesterday. >Everything looks fine. >You try touching the metal, your fingers anticipating the cold feel of aluminium. >But you only hear a ringing sound and the sound of your nerves dying off. >Your hands are tied. >Your forehead is bleeding. >And you don't have your diary with you in such a moment. "Well fuck me." >TrixAnon Stories: Part 4. >Your eyes at this point are wide open, but you still can't make anything out. >Everything's a blurry mess. >You do hear a voice, though. Someone crying right behind you. >You try turning your head. >And only see a part of a light-blue mane. >A couple more degrees, and your head would've snapped out of your neck. "Trix?" >The sobbing stops. >"Anon!" >You've never thought you'd be so relieved to hear this voice again. >Though you feel like you'll have more problems than just Trixie crying very soon. >A shadowy figure moves inside the darkness, and you can only see a pair of amber eyes shining brightly, staring directly at you. >Only now you realise how the spotlight above only has you two lit up, albeit very dimly. >Tied to two chairs opposite of each other. >Then, everything changes. >A microphone feedback sound rings through the hall. >Get ready, Anon. >It's performance time. >"MARES AND GENTLECOLTS OF CANTERLOT!" >The hall rustles with voices. >"THE ROYAL CANTERLOT HALL IS PROUD TO FINALLY PRESENT TO YOU THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRRRIXIE!" >The other lights come online, and the audience on hundreds of pairs of eyes finally sees you. >All silent, waiting for you two to become conscious. >"W-what?" >Trixie's just confused as you are. >You whisper to her. "Trix, do you know what to do?" >"Not yet, Anon. Give me some time." "They're waiting!" >"I need some time to get into character." >You need to buy her some time. >Gathering up all your might, you yell as loudly as you can into the mist of eyes. "HELLO, PONIES! WELCOME TO OUR SHOW!" >The soundwaves from your mouth disappear into the darkness. >The audience stays almost silent, with a couple voices ringing out here and there. "AS YOU MOST PROBABLY KNOW, I'M TRIXIE'S AMAZING ASSISTANT, ANONYMOUS!" >You really need to train yourself to work without feedback. >'Cause these ponies will not give out a single noise. "CAN'T TRUST ANNOUNCERS TO GET EVERYTHING RIGHT THESE DAYS, YOU KNOW?" >Right, now you need to figure out what to do. >What seems like hours pass while you sit there, awkwardly staring at the crowd. >Oh yeah, the chair. "AND AS YOU SEE, WE ARE IN NOT THE MOST COMFORTABLE SITUATION TO PERFORM RIGHT NOW." >You hear a loud popping sound. >A poof of magic right in the back of your head gives out what Trixie's been planning. >be Silver Dust. >Mom finally gave into your begging and got you a ticket to Trixie's show! >This isn't the first time she's been to Canterlot with a show, but it is the first time seeing her for you. >And it's also the first time you've been to the Hall by yourself. >You've been hearing tons and tons about her amazing performances back in school, it seems like every other colt's already been here at least once. >Whatever, you'll enjoy yourself today. >Looks like Trixie's found a new way to introduce her this time! >Tied up to a chair with her new assistant. >You so wanna see how she gets out of the situation. >You've been staring at the scene for so long now that your eyes are starting to hurt. >You blink. >A puff of smoke pops onto the scene, reflecting the spotlights across the Hall, spreading their light in waves through the crowd. >Aw horseshoes, you missed it. >You hear the Hall release its famous Roar of Voices upon the scene, covering it with a wind of soundwaves. >"Welcome to the show, ponies!" >The roar loudens, as if the manticore that produced it just got even bigger. >Trixie sure does know how to get the crowd going. >Her signature circus-like music starts playing, almost deafening you with its tingly-high piano chords. >She taps her hoof on the floor, and her weird-looking assistant gets untied. >"I can't believe Trixie's been able to get Anon the Amazing onto the show!" >There's a mature-enough-looking earth filly sitting next to you. >You glance over at her. >All of the bright lights illuminate her soft-looking pale yellow coat, making it look almost golden. >Her green-ish mane shined by itself, it seems like. "Oh, did something happen to them?" >You always get anxious about replying to ponies in environments like this. >She might've said that to someone sitting next to her on the other side. >"Oh, didn't you hear? Their carriage broke on the way from Fillydelphia to Ponyville!" >She still seemed captivated with the show, while you didn't even pay attention to it. "That's awful." >You awkwardly stop looking in the filly's direction and go back to the watching the show. >Though… >You glance over to your right one last time. >She's looking at you. >Ooh poo. >"It's your first time here, isn't it." >She said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. >What's that even supposed to mean? >S-so what if you're here for the first time!... >"Don't worry, it's my first time alone here too." >You unknowingly let out a sigh of relief. >She giggles. >"Wanna go for milkshakes after the show?" >Oh. >... >Tartarus yes. "Sure, why not." >Her eyes light up brighter than Trixie's fireworks, and her smile blurs your eyes stronger than Anon's Blinding Storm spell. >The filly scoots over on her seat to be closer to you. >This night is going even better than you expected. >"Now lets watch the show." >... >An hour and a half later you feel not only the filly's warmth beside you, but everypony else's. >The Hall was never famous for it's big entrances and exits, so ponies had to rub sides to get out in numbers of at least two at a time. >While you were standing in line to the exit, you noticed another pony going onto the scene. >She said something to Anon. >He immediately ran off to somewhere behind the curtains. >You were left pondering where he'd gone. >The pony on the stage was left alone with Trixie. >You'd never seen a anypony like her before. >Dark green coat, ash-grey sometimes curly, sometimes straight mane and tail… >You couldn't see the cutie mark from that angle, but you were pretty sure she didn't have one, despite being a fully grown-up mare. >You feel a bump from behind. >And go out into the darkness. >The opening seemingly pushed you through into the vacuum of the night, cloaking you in cold and dry autumn air. >You stood at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for the filly to catch up. >Oh, yeah, you never actually got her name. >You see her gracefully hopping down the wide steps. >"Thanks for waiting for me, umm…" "Silver Dust." >"Yeah, Silver Dust." "And you are?..." >"Little League." >Only now you notice the little baseball on her flank. >You've heard all sorts of things about sportsfillies from colts at school. >Doubly excited for the night now. >be Anon >Phew! >You're finally done with the Canterlot show. >You feel as if the whole planet just fell off your shoulders. >And the best part is that you have a whole month before the next one. >... >You and Trixie are now sitting on the edge of the stage, looking at happy ponies cramming into the small opening they call the exit door. >"See, Anon? You should've expected only the best from Trixie!" >You sigh. "I know I should've believed in you, Trixie." >You feel her smile shining through you. "Just didn't know if you could handle the stress." >You clench up, anticipating the blast. >"You know what?" >Huh? >"I wouldn't have handled it if you weren't around." >Huh? >"Thanks, Anon." >Uh, what. "Um." >"I'll count that as "You're welcome" for the last time." >She snickers. >You force out a chuckle too, why not. >The two of you calm down once again, waiting for everypony else to get out. >But one of them isn't going towards the entrance. >The greenish pony. >Her amber eyes shine, staring directly at you. >Is she a mare or a filly? >You cannot decide. >She doesn't even have a cutie mark. >You wipe sweat from your brow. >Why are you sweating? >And then, the world dies for a moment. >You hear a familiar voice. >"Hey, Anon! Didn't you forget something?" >The pony smirks. >Forget what? >You let out a sound you don't even know how to describe. >Trixie doesn't seem to notice anything. >"Alright, I'll put it in your room, since you've been a good boy." >Her at least somewhat neutral expression turns into a piercing stare only you could've pulled off. >"Now go get it." >The pony disappears into thin air. >You rush off to wherever. >"Anon? What?" >The Great and Powerful Trixie, left in the dust behind you, was really confused. >You find a room labeled "Anon" in the hallway behind the curtains. >You turn the knob. >You slowly (or so you think) open the door. >... >There's nothing in the room apart from a leather-bound book. >You take a step inside. >Sit down on the cold wooden floor. >And touch the book. >The memories come to you. >A wave rushes over you, drowns you, and leaves you hyperventilating and now lying on your back, feeling the grain of the warm maple planks beneath you. >What?... >What the fuck happened in Canterlot? >Sewers? >Ghouls? >You just… Forgot about it? >Well, shit. >Must be a magic thing. >Speaking of magic. >You pick up the book and unbuckle the little leather belt. >Knock knock >Oh, Trixie is here. >Did everyone leave already? >You could swear you sat down here just a minute ago. >KNOCK KNOCK! >What even was the book, again? >"ANON!" >Oh, right. "Yeah, yeah, wait, wait, wait." >Your legs are going to kill you... >You open the cute little door to see the blue pony without her hat and cape, and seemingly very, very anxious about something. >"Anon! Somepony took everything from my room!" >She glances past you, eyeing the emptiness of the room behind you. >"And as I can see yours wasn't spared too." "I don't even remember if anything was here in the first place." >"What do you mean?" >The blue horse stares into your eyes. >You stare back. >Trixie turns around and runs off to somewhere. >You open the book and automatically turn the pages to the last one with anything written on it. "Ponyville, Equestria, Week 10, 7:29 A.M. The transformation procedure went great! Didn't even have to teach myself hoofwriting. Doc said that I'd continue transforming for a while before everything's finished, but I feel fine right now. Guess it happens overnights or something. I really dig the new colours, too. The green has always suited me, I think. New life, here I go." >What. >The green horse stares into your eyes. >You stare back. >She turns around and runs off to somewhere. >You stand there, dumbstruck, complete blankness in your head. >What in Celestia's balls is going on? >You try moving your legs. >The stubborn hooves don't even budge a millimeter. >You concentrate on your front legs and finally start moving. >The clopping of your hooves on the heavy mahogany resonate and ricochet back into your ears, getting you out of the trance. >You shake it off out of your head. >Where's… "Trixie?" >You wait for an answer for a couple long seconds, not moving. >The lights in the corridor start flickering. >Are they even electric? >You look around yourself for an exit out of this place. >It stretches over, over, and over, and also over. >Seems like the horizon actually hides even more of the same hallway. >You glance over at the door to your room and dash into it, closing yourself off behind you. >The room hasn't changed, unlike everything else in this place: the same armchair, fireplace and the TV above it. >No light, though. >You sit down on the chair. >The TV turns on by itself, lighting up the room with flickery-cold tones. >A familiar face appears on it. >The brown horse guy appears to see you through the TV line, and he seems kinda worried. >He speaks to you in his funny accent. >"Anon? What happened?" >The picture sounds like the connection is somewhat off. >You won't bother to fix it, you can read it clearly. >"Anon? Are you alive in there?" >The connection interrupts. >White noise. >The noise sounds like some obscure music band your friends on Earth would show you. >You kinda dig it, too. >The flickering image imprints itself into your brain. >"Anon." >A strong female voice speaks through the discord. >"I have a question for you." "Yes, mom?" >The noise clears up into black and white dots scattered about the screen in some pattern. >The colours come in. >A white pony face with some sort of pink, green and light blue hair. >"When will you die?" >W-what is that horse t-talking about? >You won't die anytime soon, will you? >You hope you won't. >"Hoping won't help." >You can't handle it anymore. >They're fucking with your brain. >THESE. >PONIES. >ARE. >DEADASS. >FUCKING YOUR GODDAMN BRAINS OUT WITH THEIR FOOTLONG HORSECOCKS. "STOP IT!" >"You know what I'm talking about, Whooves." >What? >"You know I've done plenty of things to you." >Is she not talking to you? >"Now it's time for you to repay, Doctor." >You hear the static again. >Mom vanishes from the screen. >Was she blabbering about your Doctor? >The noise fills your eardrums with bliss once again. >You're having a very positive ASMR experience with this thing, and you hope that no other bullshit will interrupt it in the near future. >And it probably won't, since you're falling asleep already. >Too much stress, you know. >Your heavy eyelids come together after a long breakup and a divorce case, where the top half almost took over everything the other half had. >What a poor court system your body has. >You'll sort that out later. >Good thing that this chair is so comfy, 'cause right now all you need is some sleep. >You finally close your eyes and catch up to your sleep schedule.