"Uuugh..."
>You groan.
>It hurts to breathe.
>Why is that?
>For the life of you, you don't know why.
>The burning pain in your chest might have something to do with it.
>As might the blood rushing to your aching head.
>You feel something warm slowly seeping through your trousers.
>Not the cold, solid pavement you're kneeling on.
>What is it?
>Your left hand brushes against the fabric gently, before bringing your fingers up into the shallow light.
>It's red. Bright red.
>Blood.
>But whose...?
>You try to gaze at your surroundings, but you can't seem... to focus your eyes...
>"Oh crap." You hear a voice mutter behind you, but you ignore it.
>Through the darkness, you barely make out a pair of mounds in front of you.
>Huddled over. Not moving.
>You crawl towards them.
>"Car 23, requesting backup..."
>That voice fades in and out.
>You drag yourself those few feet. Something in your right hand is slowing you down.
>You feel around with your left.
>"...corner of E 14th and St Jo..."
>More blood.
>For a moment, you pause, focusing your eyes as much as you can.
>You find a body.
>Your surroundings are suddenly illuminated by something behind you, but you pay no heed.
>The face stares into your eyes.
"No..."
>You don't want to believe it.
"No!"
>You force yourself unsteadily onto your feet.
>A tear streaks down your face, leaving a wet trail.
>"Police!"
>You turn and are suddenly blinded by something bright.
>"...the gun down!"
>Wait what?
>You hazily look down, and there in your hand sits a handgun.
>Your brain scrambles to connect the dots.
>What have you done?
>"...down now!"
>You stumble forwards towards the increasingly belligerent voice, arms outstretched as you try to balance-
>BLAM
>The pain has been doubled!
>You fall face first to the concrete.
>"...down!"
>All sound is fading out from your ears.
>"10-52, bring three body b..."
>It seems like your whole world is turning to ice.
>Your mind blanks.
"Glo...ry..."
>And like that, the darkness takes over.
 
*****
 
>You are Afternoon Delight.
>Exotic, beautiful, a diamond in the rough.
>Or so your friend Morning Glory always told you.
>She always was a bit of a softie.
>The two of you have been thick as thieves ever since you were both fillies gallivanting about in Ponyville.
>It might've been started because neither of you had cutie marks (and incidentally, you still don't), but the two of you grew pretty close all the same.
>She always said that the two of you would be lifelong friends, despite the occasional butting of heads between you.
>As such, when the two of you had grown into a pair of delectable young mares, you invited her along when you made your big move to Manehatten.
>Like the little sister she practically was to you, Glory accepted your offer with glee.
>So, off the two of you went. Off to the big city to seek your fortunes.
>Ponyville was too small for a huge ambition like yours. If your destiny was to be found, why not try looking in the city of opportunity?
>"Dream big!" So you've always said. "We won't go home until we achieve something!"
>Well, in a sense, that was a mistake.
>A colossal mistake.
>The two of you spent most of your time trying out for the various jobs on offer.
>A brief stint in modelling, flipping hayburgers, couriering, all sorts of odds and ends.
>Despite all your efforts, you were unable to hold a stable job.
>Glory had even less luck than you did.
>Each employer was always saying something about having better talent on hand, despite your hard work ethic.
>The list of places you'd been laid off from was dissuading other employers from hiring you.
>A shrinking level of income forced you from place to place, in increasingly worsening conditions.
>It eventually got to the point where you didn't even have that.
>A series of unfortunate events later, and here the two of you were.
>On the street, with nothing but the boxes you call home.
 
 
>"Hey Dee..." You feel a gentle tap on your hoof, an attempt to wake you.
>You let out a light moan.
"Darling, remember what I said about needing my naps?"
>"I know." She mutters, looking away. "But, well, your, um, friend is here..."
"Oh?"
>You open your eyes and, indeed, not a few feet away stands a bored-looking stallion impatiently looking at his pocketwatch.
>Fairly built, dusty orange coat, oiled blue mane, you recognize him nearly immediately.
"Bad Touch!"
>"Mister Touch to you, Afternoon Delight." He replies in turn without turning to meet you. "You've not forgotten our little arrangement, have you?"
"N-no, no, of course not!" You stammer. Glory looks at you, a visual 'what?' plastered across her face.
>"Good." The stallion snorts. "Well then, up. Running late as is."
"Y-yes, Mister Touch." You stagger to your hooves, running to catch up with your leaving 'business partner'.
>Glory begins to trot behind, but you stop and silently plead with her with your best begging eyes.
"Stay here. Don't go anywhere."
>"But Dee-"
"No buts." You say firmly. "You aren't coming."
>"Hell, bring her along." Bad Touch calls from the head of the alley. "A flank like that ought to fetch a few bits..."
>Right now, you felt like bucking the stallion right in his damn ugly face, but you restrained yourself.
"Please?" You really needed to get going.
>Glory bites her lip.
>"Okay..." She says softly.
>Celestia bless her oblivious soul, you didn't need her coming along to your day job.
>All she knew was that your 'friend' helped you get bits from time to time. You haven't told her what you have to do to earn those bits yet.
>With luck, you won't ever have to.
>"Ain't got all day. Clients be waiting."
>You didn't want this stallion's help, but he somehow sold the idea of you to potential clients better than you'd manage alone.
>You hated him for being the slimeball used cart salesman he was.
>You hated the fact that you needed him.
>But you did.
>And so you went.
 
 
>You were too ashamed to go back to Ponyville. How could you face those ponies you once knew?
>What did you have to show for yourself, after all this time?
>Nothing.
>There was no way you were leaving empty-handed.
>Glory tried her best to keep her positivity throughout your hardships, but you couldn't keep up that façade.
>As you once overheard a fashion pony say, it's every pony for themselves in this world.
>With nowhere left to turn, you alone turned to the last available option.
>'5 bits for a hoofjob, 10 bits for a full service, 20 bits for anything'
>Anything meaning anything.
>Being thrust into against the floor with the force of a thousand buffalo? You'd do it.
>Taking stupefying loads with the biggest of smiles? Not a problem.
>Involving Glory was where you drew the line though.
>You've always steered her usually bubbly, innocent self away, sheltering her from the harshness of your reality where you could.
>And as a result, you both suffered for it. Lack of food was really getting to you both.
>But, no matter what happened, she's always managed to endure through your troubles, sticking by your side.
>She's just that kind of mare.
>You aren't going to let her be swept away by the world.
>That naive pony keeps you firmly anchored, sees you through the day.
>You need her in your life.
>And truth be told?
>You don't ever want that to change.
 
*****
 
>Pain.
>Unearthly pain, entwined with a pulsing warmth that bathes you.
>It sears through your very life essence, as you bob along on your present path.
>Where does this path lead? You don't know.
>All around, orbs of light dance in tandem with one another, a kaleidoscope of colour reaching your...
>Eyes? No. You have no solid body that you can see in this ethereal form.
>And yet, somehow, you are experiencing that sense to its fullest extent.
>How? You don't know.
>The pain strikes you again, growing in tempo. You want to scream, but you cannot utter a sound.
>It's readily apparent that this realm was not meant to be witnessed by a... conscious soul?
>Conscious. You suppose you were that. Otherwise, there'd simply have been... nothing.
>Emptiness.
>What does this mean? You don't know.
>You float onwards.
>Up ahead is an increasingly bright wall of white.
>Like... a tear, almost.
>Some of the other orbs of light are congregating towards it, and, you notice, so are you.
>You cannot fight your form's will.
>Some orbs diverge on a different path, changing direction towards other tears in the realm.
>Others burn out before they reach their destination.
>The pain is near synchronized with that warmth now as you get closer and closer to the light.
>You try to reach out...
 
*****
 
>You are Morning Glory.
>Afternoon Delight, bless her, is off whoring again.
>You know she thinks you aren't aware of how the bits come in, but you aren't a stupid mare.
>You sigh.
>She means well. Truly.
>And it is true that without the meagre income she brings in, the two of you may as well be dead on the roadside.
>But it doesn't mean you agree with what she's doing. Not at all.
>You crawl back into your cardboard box, huddled into a tight ball.
>Sometimes you wish you'd never left Ponyville.
>Even though neither of you had your cutie marks, that didn't mean that the ponies there wouldn't take care of you.
>They're a close-knit community, looking out for one another like they were family, not like this Luna-forsaken city.
>Here, thousands, if not millions (You never counted), of mares and stallions went about their daily business.
>All bonded together by a common nationality if nothing else.
>You'd never been surrounded by so many ponies and yet felt so... alone.
"It'll be over soon."
>In your heart, you know you're lying to yourself.
>You can't leave without your childhood friend.
>And Afternoon Delight is so dead set in her ways that you doubt she'll ever change her mind about Manehattan.
>This ride isn't going to end any time soon.
>You, Morning Glory, are royally screwed.
"Someone will come to take us home..."
 
*****
 
>Ethereal spirit becomes flesh and bone.
>Neverending white becomes soft pastel colours.
>Weightlessness is overtaken by gravity.
>And you are plummeting.
>Your brain quickly processes the situation at hand.
>Passing through soft clouds, you can see a city below you.
>You steer your away from the high rise buildings as best you can.
>Well, flailing your arms about at any rate, to no avail.
>The ground is rapidly approaching.
>You scream.
"OOOHH FFFUUUUUU-"
 
*****
 
>"-UUUCCK!"
>You, Morning Glory, snap out of your inattentive daze as a loud crash breaks your concentration.
>Poking your head outside of your box, you see garbage spewed across your alley from punctured garbage bags and overturned bins.
>An open trash can rolls past your box, dropping apple cores and other waste in its wake.
>You quickly brush the worst of it away, trying not to gag.
>Your day just gets better and better.
>"Ugh..."
>You stiffen as a voice speaks out from the trash.
>It's a stallion's voice, or so you suspect. You've half a mind to tell him off for ruining your peaceful afternoon.
"Hey! What's the big id-"
>The words melt away in your mouth as your eyes fall upon a... what is it?
>That ain't no stallion.
 
*****
 
>Well, that went better than expected.
>By all accounts, you should've been splattered against the concrete, all your bones smashed into a thousand pieces like shards of broken glass.
>Fortunately, you got off with just a massive headache and a ringing in your ears... at least, as far as you can tell.
>Hurts like a sonofabitch, at any rate.
>You look down at your body.
>Human. Okay. That hasn't changed.
>Bitching new suit, sullied by... yeesh, you don't want to know what was in that trash pile.
>Your limbs felt relatively intact though, or so you believe.
>Said belief rapidly disappears as you attempt to rise.
>Ungodly pain shoots up your right leg, causing you to tumble back into your throne of waste.
"Ow! Shit..."
>Yeah, you aren't moving any time soon.
>"Um..."
>A voice! A female voice! Thank God, there's someone here who can-
>You freeze as your eyes meet that voice's owner.
>That ain't no human.
 
 
>"H-hi there..."
>Is that a horse?
>Your eyes don't deceive you. You hope.
>It's a talking horse.
>What in the actual fuck?
"Sorry about the mess." You mutter under your breath.
>Its eyes widen. You can see it twitch slightly.
>"I, um, don't mean to be rude, but, um..." The horse (Mare? Female horses are mares, right? Right.) diverts its gaze into the wall beside it.
>Her mouth moves, but you don't hear the words come out.
"Wait, what?" You say, unsure of what to make of this situation.
>That headache might well be brain damage, as far as you were concerned.
>"...what are you?"
"What are you?" You return with an unintended snappiness to your tone. "How exactly are you talking English?"
>You see the mare visibly blank on the spot.
>"...English?" She asks, clearly confused.
"Yeah, English- wait..." You pause for a moment, collecting your thoughts. "Where am I?"
>The mare raises her eyebrow.
>"Manehattan." She says in a matter-of-factly voice.
>Again, what?
>Horse puns?
"That can't be right..."
>Could it?
>You take a closer look at this vision of craziness.
>The mare shuffles uncomfortably on the spot under your scrutiny. You must be making her subconscious of her ragged appearance.
>Even you could tell there was something wrong with this picture.
"You're a talking horse-"
>"Pony." She mutters.
"Right, pony, sure." You pause. "This isn't Earth, is it?"
>"Earth?"
>Okay, something's really wrong here.
"That's right, Earth. Big blue planet."
>She frowns at you. "I, um, don't know what you're talking about, mister. You're in Manehattan, in the magical land of Equestria."
>Equestria?
>You pinch yourself.
>Nope, this isn't a dream. This is reality.
>You hold your quaking hands up to your temples.
>If you were a military man, this shit would be way beyond your pay grade.
"Oh man..."
 
 
>How'd you get here?
>You've clearly crossed dimensions or something. Talking magic horses, good lord...
>But how? Why? Did you piss off some cosmic entity? Some controller of the universe?
>"Um..."
>Why ponies? Why something impossible? Infeasible? Irrational?
>"Excuse me..."
>A chill goes down your spine.
>What the hell is going on?
>"HEY!"
>You flinch, your attention swiftly returning back to the talking horse, whose confusion has since disappeared why you were lost in your thoughts, replaced with a deep frown.
>"You still haven't answered my question."
>Come on, man, think.
>You take a deep breath. Couldn't go about hyperventilating.
>This is an important moment, dammit!
"Human."
>"What?"
"I'm a human." You reaffirm your words with a solid nod. "A human being from the planet Earth."
>"Okay..." The two of you fall silent, just staring at each other.
>First contact. Going according to plan, so far. You got this.
>Totally.
>Yeah, you don't know what to think. Better just wing it.
"What's your name?" You blurt out, breaking the silence.
>Back to the uncomfortable shuffling she goes.
>Smooth.
>"...Morning Glory." She eventually answers, actively avoiding your gaze.
"Alright then, Miss Glory. I'm..."
>...
>Shit.
>You frown.
>What's your name?
>How have you forgotten your name?
>Hell, why can't you remember anything before that massive fall?
>You wrack your brain very quickly. The pause has made Morning Glory look you dead in the eye.
>Quick! Think of something!
"You can call me..."
>You smile. This is perfect.
"Anonymous."
 
*****