Trip is !g1QOdsQIjQ
 
>Be anon.
>You've been in ponyland for about 8 months now.
>You're pretty well adjusted to the weird shit that goes on.
>You've got your own place on the path to everfree forest.
>You've got a humble little house with a huge shed and shit piled everywhere in the back yard.
>It's mostly reclaimed materials you keep intending to us for a stack of projects that has never shrunk once.
 
>Such is the life in the life of someone trying to recreate modern comforts.
 
>Today was a day for one of the endless projects in your mind.
>You were making some rough welding electrodes.
>Rough being the operating term, there.
>This shit would not sell at all back home.
 
>But still, you're finished with your first batch of electrodes, and it's time to test it.
>So, you stick one of the thick things in each clamp, hooked up to a crystal battery and voltage regulator.
>Yes, you're cheating by using crystals.
>Shut up.
>You throw down your mask and approach the crucible.
>It's got some chunks of iron ore and a small steel fragment are in there.
>You close the lid and stick the electrodes in the holes in the sides.
>Aww yeah. You know that sound. That's the sound of electricity fucking shit up.
>You are ANON! Arc welder SUPRE-
>"Hey anon."
 
>You pull out, and set your stuff down on a slab of rock.
"What's up?"
>You turn around. It's twiggles.
>"Not much. I was hoping you could help me."
>You shrug.
>Usually when she says that it's something that eats up a lot of time, but whatever.
>You need a reason to talk to people anyways.
"Friendship problem?"
>"Friendship problem."
>Ah, yes. When Twilight needs help with friends she likes to come to you.
>For some reason.
"So what's the problem today? Another depressed stallion?"
>You haven't seen Thunderlane since two weeks ago, but he's apparently doing much better
>"Nothing like that. You remember that mare I told you about? Commander Tempest?"
>How could you not?
"Yep."
>"Well, she's staying in Ponyville for the time being, and I'm helping her make some friends."
>wut
"Another villian to the collection, right?"
>You finally take off your stuff and dump it inside the shed you're next to.
>She scoffs
>"You know that's not why i help them."
"Oh I know." you tussle her hair and walk into your house with her in tow. "It'll only take-"
>"-one insincere reformation to do me in, I know." She pauses. "That's why I think you really need to meet her."
"What, because I'm paranoid sometimes?"
>"Because she is too."
>...ooooooohh.
>Okay, actually, you don't know if that was supposed to be very meaningful.
>You're no philosopher
>"Anyways, Pinkie is hosting her party tomorrow night and we're just a bit scared that not many ponies will want to come"
"Sure, I'll come."
>You grab a beer from your fridge
"She much of a drinker?"
>"No. She's a pretty sober pony."
"Damn."
>You were hoping to find a good reason to share that mead you've been making.
>Maybe you'll just bring it anyways.
"She like, want, or need anything in particular? I think i have some spare things around here i could give her"
>"She could use a job if you know of any around. She doesn't seem to like vanity much."
"I'll keep that in mind."
>"Thanks anon. She'd really like to meet someone as different as her."
"Sure thing Twiggles."
>You taste your beer.
>Eww.
>Fuck, you must not have bottled it right.
>You dump the bad beer and put the bottle and cap over near the dish pile.
>"Anyways, she's staying at my place until she can afford someplace. Drop by if you want to meet her before the party."
"Maybe. I'm trying to get Clockwork to help me out with a ratchet system tonight. I'll keep it in mind, though."
>She gives you a quick hug and starts trotting towards the door.
>"Thanks again anon."
>She goes out and leaves you again
>You stare at the dishes, along with other piles of crap around the house that need to be taken care of.
>You fucking hoarder
>Oh well. Best clean up at least some of it before more surprise guests.
 
---
 
>It's later.
>Significantly later.
>And you've cleaned off your design table and prepared it for Clockwork
>But, he was supposed to be here an hour ago.
>It wasn't like he didn't know the time.
>He probably just forgot.
>...or he had a family surprise again.
>His kids are always dicking around where they shouldn't be.
>Oh well. You chalk it up to him being busy tonight.
>What to do then?
>You could make Shadow the Pony a nice gift.
>what would a practical pony like?
>...
>Oh, you know! Mercenaries LOVE knives!
>You go out your back door and run towards the back, where piles of things were pushed away from a cold furnace.
>Yep, there it is.
>Not sharp, though.
>And where's that harness?
>Shit, you may not have made it yet.
>Okay, time to finish it up.
>Okay, you found the harness.
>And your sharpener.
>You couldn't find that GOOD oil, though, so you settled for that other bottle of shit that always stains your fingers.
>Oh well.
>You can only hope they don't mind the smell.
 
---
 
>You kick in the door to the Twiggle's castle.
"Heeere's Nonny!"
>You love doing that.
>Spike, though, does not.
>"Stop doing that!"
>He throws a book at you, which you barely catch.
"Nah man. I couldn't break those damn doors if I tried. It's much more fun to enter violently."
>"I'm still telling Twilight."
"Sure think Mr. Assistant. Hey, is that new pony here?"
>"Uh.." he thinks for a second. "You mean Fizzlepop?"
>Who the fuck is Fizzlepop?
"No, Tempest Shadow.
>You toss the book in your hand onto a nearby table.
>"Yeah, her real name is Fizzlepop."
>Oh.
>Well.... that's disappointing.
>Must not have liked her birthname or something.
>"Anyways, you just missed her. Glimmer is taking her to the spa.
>The spa.
>The center of all evil.
>Where they remove the dirt and oil from your body!
>A dirty body is the proof of all effort, damnit!
"Well crap. I made her a welcoming gift and now I have to either wait around here or go to the spa and find her."
>"Or... you know, I could just give it to her when she gets back."
>You just had a brilliant idea ALL on your OWN!
>Just give it to spike! He can give it to her later!
>Perfect
"Sweet. It would be great if you could do that, Spike."
>You walk over and hand him the harness and knife.
>"If you can stop slamming the door that is."
"No promises."
>He groaned.
"Hey, I still get you gems pretty regularly. Don't complain too badly.”
>"No promises." He mocks your tone.
"Thanks man."
>Well, shit.
>Now you're not sure what to do.
>You could check up on Clockwork, but nah.
>...
>It really is too late to go start another project today.
>And no one has ordered any hand-made products from you either.
>Maybe you should just go grab some dinner, go home, and read a book.
>Yeah, you need to touch up on your carpentry.
>Those cabinets in the shed are never going to build themselves.
 
>Where to eat, though?
>Dammit, where's dash when you need her? She always knows where to get good grub.
>Or, well, at least she knows the closest place.
>Fuck it.
>Pizza it is.
 
>"Anon!"
 
>Or not
>Sorry stomach, you know what this means.
>Traitor.
>You'll live.
 
>You whip around to find none other than Clockwork at your heel.
>He had bags under his eyes and kids were sprinting circles around him. All four of them.
>"Sorry i missed our meeting time.”
"It's cool."
>He smiles apologetically
>"I fell asleep. Wives are all away on a trip to canterlot."
"Ah. just you for the weekend?"
>"Yep. All me."
"Fun stuff."
>You don't think you could handle kids.
"I was about to go get some pizza. You wanna join?"
>"Oh, I couldn't. Trying to eat more vegetables these days, you know how it is."
>You shrug.
>"Would you be free Monday? I think I can come over then."
"Sure."
>"Oh, thank you. I promise I won't be late this time. How about three?
"Three's good."
>"Oh good."
>You look him over for a bit.
"You look tired."
>"Dead tired."
>You smirk.
"I should let you go then. You don't need to waste time talking to me."
>"I... thanks. See you Monday."
"See you."
 
>You walk your separate ways.
>Poor bastard.
>Where were you?
>Right.
>Pizza.
 
>You stroll on down town until you get to Pan's Pizza Parlor.
>Awwww yis.
>Wait what the fuck?
>There's ponies EVERYWHERE.
>It's never been this busy before.
>So many of them are crammed in seats where they're available.
>And a bunch more are crowded around a table on the sides.
 
>You lean down to one of the onlookers as you approach.
>Carrot-top you think.
"What's going on?"
>She whips her head.
>"Oh, hey Anon. Some mare challanged Pinkie to an eating contest."
>That poor dumb bastard.
>Every time someone challanges Pinkie, she's always won.
>Weird, though. She normally works Saturday night
>You peak over as far as you can but you can't see Pinkie at all. Just Berry Punch at the other end.
"How far are they in?"
>"A full large cheese-lover's and 3 root beers each. They're deciding what to get next."
>Nice.
>Ponk won't be able to move tomorrow though. At least for a while.
"Any bets?"
>"Doughboy threatened to toss us out if we bet. Said it's bad for the kids."
"Ha! Okay, well. Good to see you Carrot."
>"You too, 'non."
 
>She turns back to the show and you shuffle your way to the front, where a busy mare named Cashe is taking care of a small line of ponies.
>Ponk always leads such an interesting life.
>How she gets into half the things she does is beyond you.
 
>It's finally your turn.
>"Hey Anon. What can i do for you?"
"A small Spice Supreme and a tankard of root beer, please."
>You start counting bits as she punches away on the register
>"14 bits, please."
>You give them to her.
"There you go."
>You lean down on the counter as she finishes
"So are you going to the party tomorrow?"
>"Pinkie's party? For what's her name?"
"Yep."
>"As catering, yeah."
"That sucks."
>She shrugs.
>"If it's not too busy I can dip off and go anyways. Perks of an uncle being your boss."
>Nice.
"How is the old guy, anyways?"
 
>"Great, actually! Thanks for asking. He got a new dog. Named him cricket!"
>"Ahem."
>you look behind you to see an impatient line behind you
>Whoops.
"Well, it's good to hear from you."
>"You too."
 
>You scurry off to the corner, waiting around the pick up counter where you grabbed your oversized drink and look towards the contest again.
>Berry was still going strong, chowing down on fried salad-stuff.
>Huh. Maybe she did have a chance.
>Maybe.
 
----
>Ah, the comforts of home
>nothing feels as good as sitting in a recliner you made, in your underwear, when you know damn well that noone else's ass has ever touched this seat
>you crack open your pizza-box
>You take one of those delicious slices, covered in nothing but the best cheese, sauces and spices
>Just as you put that first slice up to your mouth
>DING DONG
"damnit" you mutter. "Come in"
 
>In walks Applejack.
>You set your slice and box down.
>This girl has never before come to your home except in need of something.
>You can't say she doesn't like you, though. You're pretty sure she's just that busy and she has priorities other than you.
 
"What can I do you for, AJ?"
>"Hey hun. One of our carts broke an axle. Think you can come repair it sometime soon?"
>You smirk.
"Whittler giving you the runaround again?"
>she kicks the carpet
>"Has been lately. Says too many ponies comin' to her. Wouldn't be able to come out for weeks."
>You're not complaining. It's extra money for you.
>You hop up and find your schedule on the table at the other side of the room and start going it over.
>Tomorrow seems pretty good, actually. You just have to check on your bees at some point then go to the party.
"Is tomorrow fine to come check it out? I don't think I'll be able to get it done in one day, but we can get what you want squared away.
>"Sure thang. Any time past dawn is great."
"Alright." You write it down, just in case you forget. "See you then."
 
>She leaves.
>Finally.
>Time to eat.
 
- - -
>It's now tomorrow.
>You wake up to the bird flying into your window again.
>Goddammit.
>You bet Fluttershy had something to do with this.
 
>You get up and stretch your body and shit.
>Pop your bones and shit.
>Then shower and shit.
>Reverse order, of course.
>Actually, nix the shower. You'll do that when you get back.
>After getting all done, you look around for that mp3 player you have.
>It's somewhere around here, you know it.
>There!
>It's one of the only things that came with you to this place. You sure as hell aren't going to lose it to clutter.
>Aw yeah.
>You throw on your running shorts and grab your key, then walk out the front door.
 
>You lock the door, then put on your ear-buds.
>You start off with a song that will help get your heart pumping.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRGjzCIfgIc
>Now, you run.
 
>You start off towards town, just taking the usual route leading to the town square.
>As your body settles into the familiar pattern, you begin to let go, losing yourself in the comforting isolation.
>Dawn is just breaking, and it seems no ponies are up yet.
>Just you, the breeze, the grass, the music.
>You'd take off your shoes for this if you didn't know there were rocks everywhere.
>God this feels good.
 
>You can feel that thump-thump-thump get stronger as you close in on the fountain.
>Your greasy heart is getting the exercise it needs.
>Especially after last night.
 
>You reach the fountain and slow down.
>On hotter days you spray yourself with water here, but today is pretty cool, so there's no need.
>You lap around it, lazily looking around as you do.
>A pony catches your eye.
>Way down one of the roads branching from this intersection, you think it's a mare.
>She has a magenta color, or something close to it.
>She's pretty tall, too.
 
>Huh.
>You thought you were the only one that ran this early, but now you guess not.
>Oh well. It's not like you own the place.
 
>You continue on back home. That double-beat pounding in your chest keeps growing. By now it's stretching through your arteries, and you feel the pulse echo through your body.
>You sail down the nearly-straight path again, trying to lose yourself in your playlist again.
>A song comes to its end as you approach home again.
 
>”I win!”
>A blue blur passes you right as you get to your property.
 
“Huh?”
>You take off your ear-buds and stop, looking down at Rainbow.
 
>”I win!” She repeats.
“Nope. You lost the race to the fountain.”
>She hops in the air.
>”Hey, you can't just-”
“Yes I can.”
>You ruffle her hair.
 
>”Oh fine.”
>She whips behind you for a second and comes back riding a small cloud.
>”So what're you doing up so early?”
”I run on Sunday. You forgot?”
>”Uhm...” She looks at you quizzically.
“You stopped after the first time because you were bitching that I was so slow.”
>”...oh, yeah!” She smiles, then realizes what she said. “I- I mean, no! I just decided you need some time to practice and get faster.”
“Uh huh.”
>You walk past here and go towards your door.
“So what's up?”
 
>”Twilight wanted me to tell you that you should really go to a party tonight that Pinkie's having.”
“Yeah, she came and told me yesterday.”
>”What! Why'd she ask me to if she was just going to tell you anyways?”
>You shrug.
“When did she ask you to tell me?”
>”Uh...a while ago.”
>You snicker to yourself, leaning on the door.
“I think you were late on the uptake, Skittles.”
 
>She shrugs it off. “Whatever. So are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, I'm coming. Don't think I've forgotten about you guys.”
>”Aaaand are you bringing some of that new mead you're making?”
>Sigh. Of course she knows.
“Who told you this time?”
>”Pinkie.”
“I didn't even tell her this time.”
>”Yeah, she just knows.”
 
 
“Well,” best not to think too critically about Pinkie. “the mead is a maybe. I found a few bad bottles yesterday. I don't want to pass around bad bottles.”
 
>”Oh fine.”
>Poor girl.
>She just wants the delicious mead.
 
“So how are you, anyways?”
>She floats upside down, staying attached to that cloud.
>”Pretty great. Stoked for that party is all. Not much else going on right now. Lotsa boring work today.”
>She flips over and rests her head on her hoof.
>”Have you met Fizzlepop yet?
“Nope. What's she like?”
>”Kinda cool.” She says. “She looks like she always wants to say something but doesn't. She's opening up, though.”
“Sounds nice.”
>”Yep.”
 
>A bit of silence.
 
“Well, I got to shower off the nasty on my skin.”
>”Okay. See you at the party tonight.”
“Sure thing, Skittles. Don't be drunk before I get there.”
>”Whatever, dude. Don't be square!”
“No promises.”
 
>You walk in and close your door.
>You toss your mp3 player on the table and start shedding your clothes.
 
- - -
 
>You are now a clean anon.
>Relatively.
>Nothing can clean your soul.
>You tried.
 
>Anyways, you are now outside, wearing some regular clothes, work gloves, and carrying a bucket and a smoker.
>You approach the white stack of boxes in the very corner of your property.
>The top one is marked with 'FOX' on the top, along with a crude carving of the animal
>Hue.
>You get to work quickly enough, going through each of the slides in each box.
>You make sure not to make the same mistakes you did the first time you did this.
>Oh god, the images of all those grubs.
>It was as bad as 'Nam.
 
 
 
>That's the first one down.
>You set the boxes up again and the let them get back to their collecting.
>At least the queen was healthy today.
>She looked like she wasn't doing great last you checked, but it must not have been serious.
>Which is always good.
 
>You still have one more hive to take care of, though.
>You carry the overweight bucket into your house and put the lid on, then set it down in your pantry, under a supply of empty jars.
>You take the empty bucket and lid, close the doors and head out again.
>You grab your smoker again and hop the fence, then head parallel to the edge of the forest.
 
>Ah, there she is.
>That fucker.
 
>You approach Fluttershy's place at a jog.
>Fluttershy is out front with the birds.
>Singing a song or something.
>She spots you as you get close, and turns to attend you.
>”Oh, good morning Anon!”
“Morning, Flutters.” You say. “Doing well today?”
>”Great! Thanks.” She turns to the house. “Discord! Could you bring me my honeypot please?”
 
>Discord, covered in the perfect camouflage, rolls off the roof and lands next to Fluttershy.
>”H-huh?”
 
”So THAT'S how he sleeps.”
>”Only once in a blue moon.”
>He snaps and you catch a small honeypot on top of your bucket.
>”Thanks Discord.”
>”Oh, what are slaves for.”
>He floats off around the house.
>You can never tell how that guy is really feeling.
>Maybe that's just his nature.
 
>Whatever.
“I'll leave it inside for you when I'm done.”
>Yep. She guards the hive from ponies and she gets a cut. That's the deal.
>”Alright. I'll be around if you need me.”
>She goes back to the birds.
 
>You go around to the side of the house to find your hive, but there is a guardian.
>A BIG
>BLACK
>BEAR
>And it has fallen asleep next to your hive.
>Dammit, Papi, not again.
>You set the containers down and start shaking the bear.
 
 
 
“Come on, Papi. Today started so good, don't make me sad!”
>The bear wakes up and panics.
>Papi runs straight into the dirt wall the house is built on, then scrambles and runs in a random direction.
>Poor Papi. He does this every time.
>Better than attacking you, though.
 
>You work away on this hive as fast as you did the last.
>And, holy shit.
>'XOF' here has made too much honey.
>And, more importantly, too much hive.
>Some of these slides aren't coming out very easily.
>You end up getting everything done, but you lost some chunks to the ground.
>A lot of those are chunks that were growing where they weren't supposed to, but yeah.
>Still feels like a waste.
 
>Get that honey, bees, or ants will come.
>You don't want ants, do you?
>That's what you thought.
 
>”Doing well, Anon?”
>A tiny Discord is now laying across your head.
“Doing great, actually.”
>You break off a piece and toss it up.
>”Oh, thanks!”
>A few seconds later, he spits a small swarm of bees out, and they buzz around your head for a bit.
>”I think I felt a crunch in that one.”
“How are you, though?”
>”OOOH just bored again.”
“What a shame.”
>”Oh, like you don't care.” He pauses. “I know for a FACT that I'M your favorite villain.”
“Careful. 'Best villain' are fighting words around here. Never know who might take up that challenge.”
>”No one that can win it, that's for sure.”
“Speaking of, are you going to that party tonight?”
>”Party?” He grabs your face with his tiny paws. “What party?”
“Pinkie's holding a party tonight. Fizzlepop is supposed to be there.”
>”Who's Fizzlepop?!?”
“The newest member to the 'I was talked out of my lifestyle by Twiggles and company' club.”
 
>He screeches. “I have to go!”
 
>He pops out of existence.
>Huh. You wonder what that was about.
 
 
>Oh well.
>You take that honey home and stow in away.
 
>With item #1 checked off your list, you grab a scroll, a pencil and some some measuring tools.
>You don't have a tool-belt yet. It's somewhere down your list. Somewhere past actually finishing your tool set.
>Anyways, you grab everything relevant and make your way out. Today is a busy day, and you'd rather start earlier than later.
 
>You go out the door and head down the street, jogging your way towards Sweet Apple Acres.
>The sun has risen quite a bit now.
>And ponies are coming out of their houses and going about their day.
>Well, some of them. It is Sunday after all.
 
>Soon enough you make it to the property and you hop the fence.
>AJ still hates that you do that, but it's significantly faster when you don't run around to the gate.
>You get to the house, and see three fillies playing around the front.
“Morning girls.”
 
>”Hi Anon.”
>”Hey mister.”
>”Mornin'.”
 
>You pass them and get to the door. You knock and wait for the answer.
>”Come on in!” You hear a call from the back.
>You make it in and close the door behind you.
>You go in further, spot Applejack at the sink, then walk right over.
>”Mornin', Sugarcube. You just missed breakfast.”
“That's fine. I'm sure Applebloom didn't want to share anyways.”
>She scoffs, putting up a dish before drying her hooves. “Somethin' like that. The cart's out in the barn. I'll be there in just a second.”
“Alright. I'll be waiting.”
 
>You go out the door again, then head towards the barn.
>AJ seems like she doesn't want to talk much today. Is it almost time to harvest again?
>It might be zap-apple season. You're pretty sure Dash told you to be more careful around then. She never mentioned why, though.
 
>Anyways, you walk into the open barn and peer at the cart.
>Yep. It's borked.
>There's a hole in the back and the axle is broken and frayed in the middle.
 
 
 
>You know she only asked about the axle, so they probably planned on fixing the bed themselves.
 
>You climb under it and began measuring the parts. You take account of where the nails and other bits are located.
>It doesn't seem like too much of an issue, really.
>The way the wheels and cart are attached you just have to pop them off and put in a new one.
>Easy stuff.
>You make sure to write down everything you need.
 
>Applejack popped her head around the barn door and walked in.
>”Sorry if I seemed short with you, hun. The cart is just buggin' me real bad.”
>You shrug. You can't blame her, really.
“Looks like a boulder fell through it.”
>”A safe, but yeah.”
>You look up.
>Huh. Was there always a loft up there?
 
“You just need the axle, though?”
>”Yissir. Got spare boards for that, but not one axle.”
“Alright.” You crunch a few numbers real quick. “I think it'll end up at about seventy bits in total. Tuesday morning ought to be the latest time I get it done. This all fine with you?
>She nods.
>”Soonest time as you can manage, thanks. If  you could make a spare I'd pay for that one, too.”
“I'll see what I can do.”
 
>You hop up and follow her out of the barn.
>”Thanks, hun.”
“Hey, it's nothing.  I'll get it to you as soon as I ca- Woah!”
 
>You barely dodge a ball aimed right at your head.
“Check your targets, kids!”
>”Sorry Anon!”
>Scootaloo runs past without giving a glance.
>Friggin' kids.
 
“Welp, see you at the party tonight.”
>”See ya. Don't overwork yourself. It's the weekend after all.”
>Real funny.
“No promises.”
 
>Time to go home and play with some wood.
 
 
 
 
 
>You are no longer Anon.
>Just kidding. You're Anon.
>Why would you be anyone else?
>Only a fucking poser would be anyone else.
 
>Anyways, you're a frustrated Anon.
>Your lathe is sputtering on and off, making the speed erratic.
>It wouldn't matter if it didn't fuck up the process, but it does.
>You only just started, so nothing bad happened.
>But you still don't like tools breaking down randomly.
>You go for the most obvious thing and check the power source; yes, it's a crystal.
>You kick open the box and see the purple crystal pulsing erratically.
 
>Purple? That shit was brand new! It should be a bright white!
>Well, at least it's just the power.
>You yank it out and go inside real quick. You toss it in a dead crystal pile and pull a fresh one from a different pile.
>This shit is kinda expensive. You should probably ask if these things are known to leak power, just in case.
>You take it outside and throw that shit in.
>Goodasnew.papyrus
 
>You flip on the lathe again and the belt turns around.
>Much better. It's going at a nice, consistent speed.
>You should invest in some kind of more renewable energy source, though. Soon enough you're going to get swamped in electrical needs, especially if you ever want to build a laser-cutter.
>That plan is way down the line, though. Like, WAY down there.
>Well, whatever. You'll just have to make sure you're using your power more effectively.
 
>You flip on the lathe and get to work, grinding away at the small cut of tree.
>With a bin at the bottom saving all those woods shavings.
>Makes good tinder, yo.
 
– – –
 
>”Anon! You coming?!”
“Huh?”
>You were just about done piloting the holes in the ends of the axle.
>By hand.
>But you guess that you're just going to have to give it up for tonight.
 
 
 
>You shut everything down and turn to the visitors, who were standing in the waning sunlight.
>It's Pinkie and Dash.
“I'll meet you at the front.” You call, going through your house instead.
>You move through quick, and decide to load up a few six-packs of that mead.
>You're wanting to start the batch over anyways. You may as well get as many bottles ready to pack up again as you can.
>With a pack in each hand, you pop out the front and lock the door on your way out.
 
>”Ready for the fun, Anon?” Rainbow pipes up.
>”Yeah!” Ponk jumps on you. “Vinyl's here tonight and everything!”
“Oh, cool. Haven't seen her in like, what, three months?”
>”Sounds about right.”
>You walk alongside the two, heading towards the party.
“So why'd you come get me?”
>”We didn't want you to miss the party, silly!” Pinkie says.
>”Yeah, Twilight bugged us. Said she was scared you'd forget.”
“Twiggle's seems pretty adamant that I attend this party tonight.”
>”Yeah.” Ponk says. “She's real worried that no one wants to make friends with Fizzy!”
>”Pfft. She'll have a way easier time than Discord did. Twilight's just worked up over nothing again.”
“Hopefully. The town was pretty hospitable what I got here. A regular unicorn ought to fit right in compared to me.”
>”Yeah. Fizzy will be fine! And tomorrow, so will Twilight.”
 
>Ponk jumps up and hangs onto your back.
>”So how are you Anon?!”
“Happy to have some work.” You say. “Did you win that contest yesterday?”
>”Yep!”
“You win anything from it?”
>”Not paying the bill.”
>Rainbow snorts. “Poor Berry will be going sober for a few days for that.”
>”Yeah, but don't worry. She's sleeping through it with a food coma.”
“At least she isn't going hungry.”
>”That's for sure!”
 
 
 
>You three are approaching Sugarcube Corner.
>It doesn't look very packed, but looks can be deceiving.
>You all go in and break up into whatever you want.
>Pinkie goes and checks on the DJ.
>Dash goes for the drinks immediately.
>You, on the other hand, scan around for Twiggles. You spot her sitting next to a kind of blank-faced unicorn, talking.
 
>That must be the new girl.
 
>You make a beeline for them.
“Hey Sparkle.”
>You sit your ass right down on one end of their couch. Fizzlepop is on the other end and Twilight is in between.
>”Anon, you're here!” She tapped her hooves together excitedly, then turned to the other one. “Fizzlepop, this is Anon. Anon, Fizzlepop.” She smiles
>This mare is up to something, based on that smile.
>Whatever.
>You stick the packs of mead on the coffee table and put a hand towards her.
>She gives out her hoof and you give a solid shake.
“Good to meet you.”
>”Likewise.”
>She keeps a pretty reserved face.
 
 
 
>She seems nice enough.
“So, what're you ladies up to?”
>”Brainstorming on jobs.”
>Ah. The wonderful thing YOU had to do when you got here.
>You're still mostly an odd-job crafting guy, but you sometimes find a regular, if short, job.
>You crack open one of your mead bottles and give it a quick taste-test.
>Yep. It's mead.
“Have you thought about joining the Guard already?”
>”For a bit.” Fizzlepop says.
>Twilight explains. “They won't take any former enemies on in the ranks.”
>Right. You kinda feel dumb asking that one.
“No mercenary jobs around either, huh?”
>”Nope.” Fizzlepop stares into her drink. “And any of the exciting jobs close to it are being taken up by the Storm Legion members that decided to stay.”
>Huh. If a bunch had chosen to stay you maybe should have seem some by now.
>If Twilight was retelling things honestly before, some of them seemed pretty cool once the invasion blew over.
“Well, I’m fresh out of easy ideas.” You take a swig of mead, then set it down again. “Anyone want a drink of dubious quality?”
>They both look at you with a raised eyebrow.
>”Not today, Anon. Thanks though.”
>Fizzy just stares for a small moment, then hops up and grabs her cup. “I'll be back.”
>She leaves towards the refreshments.
>Just as she does, Rainbow makes her way towards you.
 
>You turn to Twilight.
“I haven't heard of anyone freaking out about her yet.”
>”Good. They have no reason to freak out over her.”
>You shrug.
“Have they ever really needed one?”
>”You're not helping.”
 
 
 
“Hey Twi.” RD cuts in. She puts an ice bucket down and you begin loading it with the bottles.
>”Hey Rainbow.”
>”BT doesn't seem too happy.”  She grabs one of your bottles and cracks it open on the bucket.
>”She doesn't like parties a whole lot. She's really only here because Pinkie insisted she have some fun.”
>”Well if she's not having fun, doesn't that kinda miss the point?”
>”It's also a good opportunity to get ponies to introduce themselves to her.”
>”Yeah, I guess.”
 
>You kick your feet up on the table and lean back, taking a nice swig.
>You let the girls talk on, and you close your eyes for a moment.
>Man, these couches are comfy.
>You need to figure out what these are stuffed with, because you want to make your couch this fucking comfy.
>Kinda reminds you of the time you and your brother once made a mattress for dad by hand.
 
>”Right Anon?”
>The dumb smile drops from your face a little, and you open up your eyes, looking at Twiggles.
“Hmm?”
>Oh shit, TwizzlerSoda is back.
>”I said the ponies around here will warm up real quick.”
>Oh.
“Yeah. They will, as long as you don't screw it up the way I did.”
>RD chortles through her mead, getting it over herself. “H- hey! You did that on purpose.”
“Did not.”
>”Ugh.” She grabs a napkin and starts wiping herself down.
>Fizzlepop is now laying down again, and rests her head on her hoof. “What did you do to screw it up?”
 
>You chuckle.
>Where to begin?
“In short: When I arrived here, I thought I was high as a kite. I broke into a house so I could hide and wait it out. I got chased through the town, and for a good chunk of it I was yelling all the obscenities I could think of and throwing things at the ponies chasing me. This continued until AppleJack pushed a cart in my way and I knocked myself by slamming  my head against the wood.”
>You can barely see it, but you swear one  side of her lips are curled ever so slightly.
 
 
 
>”You thought you were high?”
“High as could be.” You down the last of this bottle, then set it and the cap back in the case. “Never saw a talking pony before. Nor had I ever seen a pony that wasn't white, black, brown, or somewhere in between.”
>Fizzlepop looks incredulously at you, then flicks her eyes to Twilight, then to you.
>”So, you had seen ponies, but not talking ponies?”
“Correct.”
>You crack open your next bottle, giving it a taste.
>Ew. There's another bad one.
>You dump the contents into the ice bucket.
“Where I come from, ponies exist, just not the way they do here. Back home they're just animals.”
>Twiggles assures her. “He let Luna go through a few of his memories with him. She saw for herself what he saw. She swears it's every bit as weird as it sounds.”
>Fizzlepop nods slowly, probably not taking the story at face value.
 
“I'm sure it sounds insane.” You grab another mead and try again. “There are lots of things here we don't have back home.”
>She nods. “I've been around a good portion of the world. Every place I went to I thought something very close to that.”
>Silly pony, you don't know just how much of a divide there is.
“Well thanks. You'll have to share some stories sometime.”
>”Oh, no.” She rolls her eyes a bit. “The kind of stories I have aren't really that interesting.”
>You shake your head.
“I understand if you don't want to, but I'm a sucker for any kind of military stories. I made a few friends that worked as lifetime mercenaries back home.”
 
>She looks you over for a bit, studying you with judgmental eye.
>Her eyes may be lidded but they are very alert.
>Then, she offers a small smile.
>”I guess I could tell a few sometime.”
>You nod.
“It's a date then.”
 
 
>Suddenly, Discord pops into existence, hovering over the table.
>He twists and turns until he gets his face right into Fizzlepop's
>”Aaahhh, FrizzleBritches, there you are!”
>”Fizzlepop. And, who-”
>”I'm a friend of Twilight's! Didn't she tell you about me? Twilight, I'm appalled. You waiting THIS long to introduce me to your new best friend here!”
>”I'm not sure-”
>”Now now, NozzledSoda. In spite of Twilight's efforts I DID hear about you and came to give you a gift!”
>He pulls from behind her head a wad of straps attached to something. In the blink of an eye he unravels it and puts it on Fizzlepop.
>You swear she loses her breath a second when he yanks it tight on there.
>He then floats behind her, looking at you.
>”I got you TWO knives. And mine are magenta! They match your coat and everything!”
>He looks at you condescendingly.
>”So much better than leather, black and steel, wouldn't you agree, Anon?”
 
>What the fuck is he up to?
>And why is he trying to show up your gift?
 
>Fizzle just pokes at one of the knives, and it promptly falls to the ground.
>”Don't tell me you forgot, Anon!” He pleas, slowly floating into the wall.
 
>launch  calendar.exe
>loading...
>running...
>> Enter date: Today
>> October 3rd , year of our lord -inf
 
>Fuck.
>It's the 3rd!
>Fuck fuck fuck you aren't prepared.
>What's tonight's theme?
>Right!
>Useless drama!
 
>You put down your mead and reverse-vault over the couch you were just sitting on.
>You point a finger at him.
“Give me five minutes asshole I'll be right back!”
>You sprint like Usain Bolt is patient zero and go home.
 
 
- - -
>You are now Twiggles.
>And Anon just ran the fuck out of there.
>You turn to Discord.
“What's going on, Discord?”
 
>”Twilight Twilight Twilight. Don't you remember? Anon and I have ourselves some fun at precisely every 3rd opportunity.”
“Huh?”
>Uh...
>Right! Okay.
>It's the 3rd already?
“Okay.”
>You turn to Fizzlepop.
 
>She's poking at the 'gift' Discord put on her, if it could even be called that.
>At every touch, it falls apart.
>First she pokes the knives, and they fall off and shatter.
>Then the straps, which promptly break.
>With it off, she stares at it for a small moment, then looks up to you.
“Sorry. Discord is pretty invasive at times.”
>”I see.” She looks up to Discord, then grabs one of his horns and yanks him down to eye level, surprising him. “Listen here, Milkdud. I already don't like you. But that won't be a problem as long as you don't get in my face again. Understand?”
>”Milkdud?”
>She pushes him away. “And don't touch me, either.”
 
>This.... it could be worse. They're just off to a bad hoof is all.
 
>”Now hold on.”
>Discord stands on the table and peers down at her.
>”I don't know what who you think you are but if you think I'm about to let some pony named 'Fizzlecan' trot all over me you have-”
>”Fizzlepop.” She cuts in. “And don't think that just because you're Twilight's friend doesn't mean I won't fight back if you cross me.”
 
>Nope.
>You snap up and try to get between them.
“Now, let's not get too antsy. I know not everypony gets along but maybe we can take a deep breaths and just relax a bit.”
 
>They stare at eachother. You can practically see the lighting jumping between them.
>Oh Celestia, what are you going to do?
 
>Discord tries to speak.
>”Discord! My name is Incognito Montoya! You killed my honor! Prepare to dance!”
 
>Yes! Anon, thank you! You have no idea what you just diffused!
>He's standing over near the door, getting everyone's attention, and...
>... is he wearing a suit?
 
 
>Anon pulls Discord off and he tells the DJ to flip the lights.
>Now the small dance floor is clearing enough room for them to show off.
>The music clicks over and a new track begins.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFY7Qu0rNVE
 
>The only move you recognize is the moon-walk, translated to the human body of course.
>The rest are all pretty foreign, but look good.
“Never took him for much of a dancer.”
 
>You look towards Rainbow.
>That damned pegasus is balancing a bottle on her nose!
>Did she even notice anything?!
>Sigh...
>Fizzlepop is back to staring around the place again.
 
>This may be a lot tougher than you initially thought...
 
- - -
>You are Anon again.
>And it is now later.
>With the monthly 1-hour sacrifice out of the way, and with Discord leading a conga-line somewhere outside, there is relative peace in the place.
>It's a bit of a double-edged sword, though.
>You sure love having fun with the guy, but dammit. He just sucks up so much of your time when he decides to have some fun with you.
>You've got tons of other shit to do.
 
>Plus, these ponies really don't party the way you used to party back on earth.
>Oh, let's face it. They don't know a thing about partying 'hard'.
>Sure, they have all the alcohols you had back home, and at the same strength, too.
>But they don't have the rest of it.
>Maybe you could...
>No, stop. You don't need anything else. These ponies? They've got something else. There's more substance to their parties. There's more...
>They're more real, if that somehow makes sense.
 
>...which is why you're buying yet another shot from a mini-bartender.
>You should really solve your addictions. Trading one for another will do nothing for you.
“Dammit.”
>This is why you tend to decline going to parties since you got here. Too much idle time. A busy body means a clear mind and all that.
“Thanks.”
>You tip the poor mare and down your shot, leaving the glass right there for her.
 
>You look over to Twiggles and company. AJ and Rarity joined at some point, but Flutters is nowhere to be found. And Pinkie is off doing God-knows-what.
>What's the ex doing talking up a storm with Fizzlepop?
>Oh, whatever. You're still friends, right?
 
>You approach, the group.
>Weird. You can't really hear them.
>As you get closer, an odd sensation passes over your body, and suddenly you can hear them.
>Twiggles' horn is very lit, you just realize.
>Well, that's one way to tune out the music.
 
 
 
 
>”-and we got into soooooo much trouble! A guard was chewing me out for an hour before my parents could even see me!”
>You take a seat next to RD on the far end of the couch, listening to Lyra go on about some story.
>You lean down and grab one of your bottles.
>Turns out it's the last one.
>You crack it open and give it a taste.
>And it's bad.
 
>You dump the bottle into the mostly-melted Ice.
>You put the bottle up and lean back. For just a second, you see Twilight look at you worriedly, before she goes to look at Lyra instead.
>She keeping a special eye on you tonight?
>You can only wonder what for.
 
>You turn to RD, and give the girl a light push.
“Hey. I miss anything important?”
>She slaps you with a wing.
>”Yeah, you missed a few bad drinks.”
>You were warned, Dash.
“So how many bad bottles did you toss?”
>”Oh, like three, between me and AJ.” She subtly points a hoof towards the bartender. “But you're not the only one who's hit and miss with the drinks.”
>You raise an eyebrow.
>She seemed pretty good earlier.
“What, she put too much ice in your beer?”
>She snorts. “Funny, my guy. No, she just doesn't know how to make a Pony Colada. Or much else.”
>You shrug, and give a smug smile.
“I don't know how to help you, Dash. I don't drink stallions' drinks.”
>She crosses her forelegs.
>”That's not a stallion's drink!”
>Pfft.
“Whatever you say, flygirl.”
 
>You chillax for a bit.
>Not much else to do but listen to the others talk.
>More than three people is too many for everyone to get a word in anyways.
 
 
 
>”Alright everypony!” Pinkie pops in and announces. “The party's over!”
>You look to the clock, then back to Pinkie. You try to talk, but Twilight beats you to the punch.
>”Already? It's only eight!”
>”I know that, silly filly!” She snorts. “The party was just so ponies could have an excuse to come meet Fizzlepop!”
>She taps Twiggle's horn, cutting off that spell she was holding.
>”Ow.” She rubs her horn. “Pinkie Pie-”
>”See? It's Sunday night! Ponies have work tomorrow! Who wants to go to work all tired and stuff?”
>She points her hoof around.
 
>Wow. It is dead. There's only a few ponies left, including the DJ and bartender. Mrs. Cake is in the back setting chairs on tables.
>Poor Fizzlepop didn't get a very long party. And she spent most of it sitting and talking on a couch.
>Not that you'd complain, if it was you. There are too many parties here for them to last very long each time.
 
>”Besides, I got you a gift, Fizzlepop!”
>Pinkie hugs the life out of the mare and then presents a present.
>She takes it slowly, putting her hoof on Pinkie's shoulder.
>”You didn't need to, Pinkie.”
>She snorts. “Of course I didn't! But I wanted to.” Ponk hugs her. “You don't have to open it now. Surprises are exciting, anyways!”
>She hops over them all and lands in between Fizzlepop and Twiggles, then clops her hooves together. “So, what do you girls want to do now?”
 
>Free shrugs all around.
>Rainbow pipes up, though. “Is anypony else hungry?”
>Mixed results.
“Yeah, I could go for a bite.”
>You avoided the pizza because you had some last night, but that meant you only had a few snacks.
>The rest of the food here was sugary as fuck or had flowers.
>Neither of which you considered to be on your diet.
 
>”I think Green Grill is open.” Twilight pitches in.
 
 
 
>RD licks her lips. “I haven't been there in forever. Anyone else want to go?”
>”I need to stay an clean up a bit first.” Pinkie says.
>”I'll go!” Rarity hops up.
>”I've got busywork to get to early tomorrow. Sorry.” Applejack says.
>Fizzlepop just nods.
 
>Rainbow turns to you.
>”You up for some grub?”
>Hmm.
>You're not really sure.
>You've used a good chunk of your bits today. Plus, you already ate out yesterday.
>It really might be best to call it a night. It's not like you're oozing money out the ears.
“Nah. I think I'll just go home.”
 
>You get up and follow the group outside, after picking up your cases of empty bottles of course, where Pinkie waves you all off and you all break off.
>You walk towards home alone, smelling that clean, cool air you love so much.
>You're pretty sure there's leftovers somewhere in your fridge.
>If not, well, skipping one meal wouldn't kill you.
 
>”Anon.”
>You stop in your tracks and turn back.
>Oh hey, it's Fizzlepop.
“What's up?”
>She stops near you.
>”I never thanked you for the gift.”
 
>She didn't?
>Oh right, she didn't.
>You wave your hand.
“It's fine.”
>She gives a small smile.
>Like, a really small smile.
>You can't tell if she's trying not to smile or something.
>”It's really nice, actually. I don't know where I'll use it yet, but... thanks.”
“It's nothing, really. I'm glad you like it.”
 
>She looks back, and you look behind her to see Twilight watching you both.
>She turns back to you.
>”I better go. Sorry if I seem short.”
>All ponies are these days.
“It's cool.” You say. “I'm at my house most of the time If you ever want to swap stories.”
>”Thanks. You have a good night, Anon.”
“You too.”
 
>You go home.
>Tonight is a friendly kind of night.
 
 
 
>Until you get home, that is.
“What the hell?”
 
>The gate on your way-too-short fence is wide open. You're sure as hell you didn't even open it today.
>You walk on through, taking careful notice of every detail you can.
>Nothing seems amiss at first, but you begin to notice that some of your things have been moved.
>Not missing, just moved. Like someone was looking for something they couldn't find.
>You trail through the stacks of materials and tools all around, hoping to find a hint or clue as to who trespassed, or at least what they were trying to get.
>You stop right where you find one of your lanterns. This one is one of those crystal lanterns that are super bright and let you easily work through a project over night.
>This kind and regular oil lanterns are nearly indistinguishable from the outside. The compartment inside is what lets you tell them apart at a glance.
>So how could you tell it was your crystal lantern without examining it closely?
>Well, because the compartment is popped open and the crystal is only half-way seated.
 
>Well fuck.
>Once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern.
>Someone is going through your shit.
 
>You close the gate and lock it, then walk around the yard.
>You pick up every crystal you have and take them into the house with you, making sure everything is locked and sorted away.
>You are upset. This is not something you've had happen before. From Equestrians, that is.
>Looks like some other projects are going to have to wait. The next thing you need to make is larger shed to house your valuables.
 
>....and Twilight calls you paranoid for having locks on everything......
 
- - -
 
>Sleep does not come easy.
>In fact, it might have been a lie to say you slept at all.
>You can't tell, though. You don't have a phone here to constantly check the time passing.
>You just have a regular old clock, which requires you to turn on a light to see.
>And for a decent amount of time, you weren't willing to turn it on.
>Apparently, though, the molestation of your things has you pretty wired. The alcohol you had normally helps you sleep.
>However, you suddenly decide that there comes a point in a man's life where he must decide to either try harder to sleep or stop trying entirely.
>You get up. If your body won't let you sleep well, then you may as well reap the benefits of tonight's case of insomnia.
 
>You flick on the light a shuffle around your room. You put on some decent shorts and your shoes.
>You go towards your back door and grab a few charged crystals, then make your way out back.
>You use the soft glow of a crystal to find that lantern, then you plop it in and turn it on.
>The bright light blinds you for a moment.
>You lower it and let your eyes adjust again.
 
>You walk around your back yard until you get to that axle you were working on.
>It still has the hand drill stuck on it. You set your lantern down where you have decent light and grab the drill.
>You drill away, paying careful attention to make sure it doesn't slip out of the hole you're making.
 
>Soon enough, another hole is done.
>You begin working on the next one. You continue on until you hear flapping in the wind.
>You look over at the fence, towards the town, and see slitted eyes staring back at you.
>Oh boy, here we go.
 
>”Hey there, handsome.”
>It's this mare again.
>You can't seem to get rid of this mare.
>You don't even know her name. She always comes up wearing that magic armor that hides her face and coat and crap.
>And the most you could do about it is report it to the barracks.
>Nothing gets done about her.
 
 
 
“If you're going to stare all night I hope you brought bits. I don't dance for free.”
>”But I heard you do! I know you know how to have some fun at a party.”
>You keep working away at the axle. Ponies be damned. You WILL have this complete!
“Don't you have a patrol or something to go do?”
>”Oh, my eyes are patrolling alright.”
“Anywhere but here, please.”
>”Oh, you know you like it.”
“No, I don't.”
>You really don't. Fucking cops, man. Always shoving their noses in your business.
>”But you're like the only guy that's ever up at this time of night!”
>She throws her hooves over your fence, and does this hopping motion like she's trying to adjust her armor or something.
>”Come on, nothing ever happens at night! I just wanna talk!”
“We can talk about you leaving me alone.”
>”Hmph.” She huffs. “You can play hard to get all you want.  I know you like to party hard and feel good.”
>She wriggles her eyebrows.
 
>The bitch isn't going anywhere for a while, so you decide to play the silent game until you get done with your work.
>It goes mostly smooth, and you finish the spare after a while, too, but then an idea hit you.
 
“Hey.”
>She piques interest, realizing you are talking to her.
>”Yeah?”
>This may solve both problems.
“Since you're not going to stop stalking me for a while, could you at least look into trying to find who's stealing my property? I might reward you, if you figure it out for me.”
>She puffs up her chest and pounds it.
>”For such a handsome guy, I can perform ANY task.”
>Stalker.
“Great. Someone's been stealing my crystals from my yard.”
 
 
 
 
>She exaggerates a gasp.
>”Don't worry, Anon. I can help!”
>Wow. No shit. A fucking cop can help with enforcing the law. Who would have thought?
>”Now, do you have a description?”
“No.”
>”Anyone you'd suspect off the top of your head?”
“No.”
>”At what time did this take place?”
“Most recently was during the party sometime.”
>”And they only steal crystals?”
“Yep. They put empty ones back in place of the one they steal.”
>She stares at you for a brief moment.
>”They put back the empty ones?”
“Yep.” You nod. “I'm guessing they thought I'd just assume it ran out from use.”
>She pauses a moment, then smiles. “Alrighty then. I'll be back later. I've got to pass this by the precinct.”
>She bursts into the air and carries her armored ass out of view.
 
“Oh thank God.”
>The sweet sound of silence permeates the air.
>It's nothing but you and the crickets now.
>Now you can work in peace.
“Now I can.... wait...”
 
>You already finished the axles.
>Fuck. What are you supposed to do now?
>You're not really tired yet.
>Well, yes you are, but not sleepy tired. More like exhausted.
>...
>You shut everything down and go back into your house.
>You decide to go read one of your mechanical design books until you pass out on your bed.
>If nothing else, you want to be sure you know what you're doing before you begin your biggest project yet.
>Hopefully you can start it soon. You ought to, now that your welding tools are done.
>Still, you're a bit paranoid that steel in the shed isn't-
>...
>And you pass from the woken world, like a light turning off.
 
 
 
- - -
 
>Luna has blessed you with a lack of dreams, and you wake up without recalling a thing.
>You consider it pretty good sleep if there's no technicolor bump in the night.
>The day gets hectic when you dream about all the stuff you're about to do and have to suffer going through it a second time, swearing up and down you already did it.
 
>Anyways, you go through your wakeup process and get ready to leave.
>You pop out the back door and find those axles. You hoist them up on your back and-
>Is that snoring you hear?
>You look to the side fence to see that damn guard standing there again.
>She's standing on her hooves, but her head and wings are relaxed and unfurled.
>She snores again.
>Did she come back, only to fall asleep waiting there?
>Your stalker is getting lazy.
>Should you wake her up, though?
>Sure, you don't like her much, but she probably would rather go home than sleep leaning on a fence.
 
>You walk over with the axles and gently bop her on the helmet with a fist.
>She jolts and backs up, trying to figure out what's going on.
“Hey, just so you know, it's the A.M.”
>”Huh?” She looks around, bleary-eyed. “Wassat?”
>You point to the east, and she looks.
>”Oh. Nice sunrise.”
>It takes her a second, and it clicks in her head.
>”Sunrise!”
>She immediately hops into the air, having some difficulty at first.
>”The Lieutenant is going to kill me! Oh crap oh crap oh crap!”
>And she books it out of there, not minding you in the slightest.
 
>You chuckle and walk through your gate, after grabbing a bag of your tools, then lock the gate.
>Silly guardsmare, falling asleep on the job.
>Better than trying to hit on you more.
>Whatever.
 
>You carry the axles in a back-rack position and move on towards Sweet Apple Acres.
 
 
 
>The trip is fairly short. You manage to get there after just a twenty-minute walk or so.
>You peel up the path leading to the barn, noticing that Big Mac is already up and feeding Winona.
“Morning, Mac.”
>He gives a wave, then pets Winona a bit.
“Is the cart still in the barn?”
>”Eeyup.”
>Cool.
“Is it alright if I just jump in and get to working on the axle?”
>”Eeyup.”
>Nice. They probably appreciate you getting right to it.
“Alright. Thanks, Mac. I'll come get someone when I'm done.”
>”Eeyup.”
 
>You stroll into the barn to find the cart is tilted up onto the front, and the broken axle is removed already. The wheels are detached and setting next to the broken axle.
>You set one axle to the side of the barn, and hoist the other up and slide it into place.
>It  sets in easily enough.
>You grab one of the wheels and put it on, lining it up with the holes in the axle.
>You rummage through your bag of tools and grab your trusty drill, along with a couple heads.
>You figure out which head fits and toss the rest back.
>You work around, making sure each of the screws fit before tightening them.
>It's a perfect fit. With the first one down, you grab the next one and set it up.
>It doesn't seem to be quite the perfect fit on this end. You screw them down anyways.
>Nothing snaps or breaks, so you call it good and push your tools aside.
 
>You grab the axle and pull down the cart, setting it right.
>You roll it out, watching the wheels to make sure they actually turn as they are supposed to.
>Nothing seems amiss, so you roll it back in its spot and grab your stuff.
>A job well done.
>You bail out of the barn and head up to the front door.
>You knock on the door and wait.
 
>”Come on in!”
>You walk in and head towards the kitchen.
>Old ma'am Smith is cooking up something good, based on that smell.
>”Anon!” Applejack hops up and comes to you. “You're early!”
“I figured you'd rather have that cart fixed up sooner than later.”
 
 
>”That I would.” She points to the table. “Would you like a bite? We just started. Don't wantchya to work on an empty stomach.”
>You hold up a hand.
“Thanks, but I'm not hungry.  And, I've already finished putting the axle on.”
>”Already?” She pauses. “Gee willy. How long ago did you get here?”
>You shrug.
“Maybe fifteen minutes ago?” You point to the barn. “I can show you right now if you want. I only rolled it a few feet, but it seemed to work fine.”
>”No, I trust you. Just, uh, let me go get the checkbook.”
>She trots towards the stairs and heads up.
 
>”That mare isn't making you get up this early just for her, is she?”
>Smith grabs your attention from the stovetop.
>”I don't want you thinking we're the kinda ponies to make demands.”
>You just smile.
“No, ma'am. I just get up this early normally.”
>”Well, good on you. So many ponies don't know the value of knowing what the sunrise looks like.” She holds up a plate. “You want some skillet toast?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I'm good.”
>”Well any time you want you come have a bite here. I promise my cooking hasn't gone bad!... yet.”
 
>Applejack makes it back, tossing a big book onto the counter. She hops up and start filling out a check with a pen.
>”How much was it again?”
“70 for the first one. We never talked about the price of the spare. Does 125 sound fair?”
>She mulls it over for a bit.
>”Sounds good to me.”
>She writes out the check and hands it to you.
>”Thanks for the help, Anon.”
“It's nothing.” You say, moving towards the door. “Just let me know if it breaks too early or something. I'll do it over again. I don't want to be known for making shoddy parts.”
>”Will do, hun. Thanks.”
 
>You head out and down towards the town.
>Welp. Today's payday, somewhat. What are you going to spend it on?
 
- - -
 
>After you go to the bank, you decide to just grab groceries and go home.
>You're not exactly a bottomless pit of cash, and that fridge isn't going to restock itself.
>Such is the life.
>When you get home, however,  you see someone waiting at your door.
>She's sitting down on the little concrete step just in front of your door, staring into the ground. She has a big bag
“Fizzlepop?”
>She snaps up and looks at you, suddenly wearing that tiny smile of hers.
>“Anon.”
>She moves out of your way as you get to your door.
>You move in and she follows.
“For what do I owe the pleasure?”
>You  go to the kitchen and set down your bags. You start stuffing away items as you talk.
>”I was talking to Twilight about you and she told me you might know how to dye metal.”
>You toss shit in on the high shelves. Lots of rabbit-food.
>Speaking of, you need to set up some traps again. You've been out of meat for a while now.
“I'm sure I have some dye recipes around here somewhere.  It's been a while since I've done it. What is it exactly you're wanting me to dye?”
>”My old armor.” She says. “I'm trying to get it to camouflage well into the forest.”
>Ah. That'll be more complicated than a simple dip in a vat.
“Alright. Do you happen to have the pattern you want drawn already?”
>”I do.”
>She whips out a sheet of paper and gives it to you. You stop stocking the fridge long enough to get a good look at it before you set it down on the counter and finish up.
>It's just a standard woodland camo. Nothing special about it.
“Alright. Doesn't seem too complicated.”
>You finish up and fold your bags, tossing them aside.
“I'll have to do a bit of shopping around before I can get you an accurate estimate, though.”
>She pulls a metal plate out from her bag, and begins piling them on an empty spot.
>”What would a rougher estimate be, then?”
 
>You shrug, leaning over the counter now. You count the plates. Yep. It's armor.
“Couldn't possibly be more than fifty bits.”
 
>She pauses, and her eyes dart for a split second.
>You know that look.
>She doesn't have the money, does she?
>”Do you... do deferred payment?”
 
>Hue hue hue.
>Well. You were tits up at the start of this ride yourself, weren't you?
>Took a while to get down decent work. You just had to ask a few more favors than you liked at the beginning.
>You paid them back, but you still didn't like the notion of owing anyone.
“I normally take payment on completion unless it's a big job.”
>She looks at her bag, obviously trying to think of something.
“Tell you what, though. You can blow shit up with that horn of yours, right?”
>She nods.
“I've got a cart out back. How about you go find me a tree in the forest and break it into pieces then just load up a cart full and bring it back.”
>”Just one cart full?”
“Yep. One cart full, and we're even. Doesn't need to be clean cut pieces, either. Just break it down enough that I can toss it into my furnace.”
>She takes a look out back and spots your metal cart. She smiles, and moves to go out the back.
>”Easy. I'll have it done in an hour.”
>She seems eager to be done with it. You're not that ugly, are you?
“Don't hurt yourself blowing it up. I don't want you to lose that pretty face of yours.”
 
>You're not sure she heard that last part. She moved out pretty quick.
>Oh well. She's a smart mare. Not like she needs you to tell her how to do her job.
 
>Speaking of jobs. You now have a new one. You're pretty thankful they seem to be lining up one after another like this recently. Usually you're either swamped or dry on work.
 
 
 
>Now. What to get first? Twilight always has access to the chemicals you need, being a sciencey princess.  But she doesn't like you using her discounts.
>Wait, who was it you got it from last time?
>...
>Oh yeah, it was one of the mares in the Civil Construction Crew.
>What was her name again?
>Cold Calc.
>Yeah, she's got the stuff. She's the go-to paper pusher for any industrial supplies. For Ponyville at least.
>You best go and get the stuff then. Fizzlepop didn't even ask for an ETA on this, so you can only assume it's ASAP.
>Shouldn't take too long, though. It's just some chemical dipping and waiting.
 
>You quickly take stock of what ingredients you do have, then check out back to make sure Fizzlepop doesn't need anything.
>She's already off with the cart, so you  grab a bag of bits and get out of the house.
>You high-tail it down the road, looking for that small warehouse  near the city hall.
 
>You get there after a short walk.
>It's a fairly well-built building, It's taller with more modern concrete and steel structure than any building around.
>It hosts a large wooden sign, so it doesn't look totally soulless. And some drawings in the windows make it look more welcoming.
>You walk into the front and immediately catch two mares on chairs fencing with dowel rods.
>They freeze as you walk in, then toss everything aside and lean up at the front register.
>”Welcome!” They both say, smiling.
“Hey, is Cold Calc here?”
>”Nope.” One says.
>”She's on vacation.” Says the other.
>”We can help you with whatever you need.”
>You shrug internally.
“Are you mares in stock of any sulfuric acid?”
 
>”Uh.”
>They look at eachother.
 
 
>”Let me check the back.”
>The first one hops off her chair and goes to the back, where an open doorway leads to the warehouse.
>The second one just looks you over.
>”So, what strength do you need it?”
“As pure as you are willing to sell me.”
>She looks you over hesitantly.
>”Have you bought acids before?”
>Pfft. Of  course you have.
“Yeah. Last time I got 98% concentrate by volume.”
>”Okay.”
>She goes through some papers, slapping one on the counter, but she doesn't push it to you.
“I promise I'm not trying to take over the world with a canister of acid.” You say jokingly.
>She snorts. “Cute.”
>The first mare pops back up carrying a insulated can in one hoof.
>”The only concentration we have in stock is 14M.”
“Perfect.”
>The second mare pushes that paper to you. It's one of those 'fault-forms' as they call it here.
“I already filled one of these out. It's under 'Anonymous'.”
>”Oh.”
>She glides over a series of files behind the counter, looking for the file.
>The first mare leans over the counter and smiles at you.
>”So, what's a guy like you need high grade stuff like this for?”
“Anodizing metal.”
>”Oh.”
>She seems genuinely surprised by your answer.
“Yeah, I just buy the high concentrate so I don't have to waste so much space storing the stuff.”
>She taps on the counter. “Yeah, I know how that goes. So many tools, and so many of them just sit there for so long. “
>She slides down into her seat, slumping over.
>”All I can hope is that after accumulating all these tools I'll have found a purpose for them. For me. That it wasn't just all- AH”
>The second mare kicks the first, rolling her all the way into the other room.
>”Ignore her. Anyways, I found your file. The total is twelve bits per bottle.”
>You toss the bits on the counter and she swipes them up.
“Just the one is fine.”
>”Thank you sir!”
“Have fun with the sword fights.”
 
>You take your stuff and leave, leaving the mares to their desk duty.
>Time to get to work.
- - -
 
>You are Fizzlepop Berrytwist, AKA: Tempest Shadow
>And you are a very content mare.
>Not happy, just content.
>After all of your practice, trying to make good use of the only thing you can do with your horn.
>After all those years training your body. Honing it. Sharpening your skills. Training yourself to be faster and stronger than anyone you've ever met, and hopefully, anyone you'll ever meet...
>Who knew you'd make such a great lumberjack?
 
“Hah!”
>You give another aerial kick, sending a chunk of singed wood down into the metal cart.
>It bounces once, then settles on the growing pile.
>You land, then back up and line up for another burst of magic.
 
>It feels great to be out here.
>Growing up, the Everfree was a nightmare story to tell to children.
>But now, having lived to adulthood, it has this eerie familiarity to it. This kind of pathological comfort that you can't quite describe.
>A danger to anyone without either the knowledge or the strength to take it on.
>To those that to have one or both, it's just a lonely place is all.
>You are alone.
>But so is everything else that lives here. In this place.
>You're all alone.
>Together.
 
>You fire the shot and follow the trajectory. You jump and twist, hitting a large chunk right into the cart.
>You land, checking it out.
“Hmm.”
>That one seems a bit big.
>Come to think of it, several pieces don't look like they'd fit in a furnace.
>Well, you don't know what kind of furnace he's got.
>Maybe it's one of those huge furnaces that could fit ponies inside.
>Yeah, no. You didn't see any industrial furnaces back there.
>And your magic isn't precise enough to break these down right here.
>More would probably be wasted from charring.
 
 
>Yeah. You'll just find if he has an axe or something when you get back. You can take care of those larger chunks that way.
>Much simpler. Trying to use magic just complicates things anyways.
>You could keep eachother company that way.
>Maybe you'll figure out if he really meant that comment on your face.
>...
>Yeah, you heard him just as you left.
>When you heard it you ran off with a huff, extra eager to get done with the deal.
>Then, it crossed your mind that he may not have meant it to degrade you.
>Twilight DID mention that he has some very crude jokes. Much more crude than ponies would manage to think up.
>He did curse at Discord.
>Pretty casually, at that.
>No, no. That comment wasn't because he's being crude.
 
>You shake your head.
>You're reading too much into it and you know it.
>He likely didn't mean anything by it.
>...
>Twilight's still wanting you to try and make a friend around here, though.
>Just one.
>That's all she's asking of you.
>She promises you'll want more, just after that first real friend.
>And she keeps saying that he's an easy friend to make. You just have to set down and get to know eachother.
>And you DID promise a story sometime...
>Maybe after he's done with your armor, you'll ask him to 'hang out' some time.
>Can't mix business with pleasure after all.
>Yeah, just sit around and talk.
>No party noise. No loud racket. Just talking.
>Yeah. You'd like that...