Title:           Using Thunderlane (Warning Clop)
Author:          DangerousAmoeba
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/rW7JzhNX
First Edit:      Sunday 22nd of May 2016 08:37:02 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Monday 15th of August 2016 02:39:44 PM CDT

>Be unemployed AiE
>Heading on down to the local pub to chat with/up some ponies.
>Whatever gets you a place to sleep for the night.
>You’ve already overstayed your welcome with your friends.
>Mares are hard to pick up, though you’ve had some. They only get you one night though, and are a ton of effort.
>Except a green one.
>Bar is almost empty today, just some assorted ponies, some who you’ve already gotten a bed out of.
>Scanning around, you see a friendly face. Thunderlane.
>You play hoofball with him when you’re not trying to make money, though his friends don’t like you.
>He’s a weatherpony or something, you don’t know, But you’ve already bunked on his couch.
>Still, nice to see a friend again.
“Hey Thunder.”
>”Ugh... H-hey Anon.”
>Damn, maybe this was a bad time. That’s a pretty big mug of cider.
“Something wrong?”
>”Sorry, yea. I lost my job.”
“Again? What did you do this time?”
>He seems to accept the bantz, and cracks a smile.
>”I didn’t do anything! Some idiot destroyed the weather factory, and blanketed some town in snow a week early.”
>Tough luck. Last time he was just sick.
>”Anyway, I was on break when it happened. Boss didn’t believe me.”
>You can feel for him, being unemployed sucks.
“Hey man, look at it this way. You’ll have your job back next week.”
>Being literally the only person who can do the job sure increases job security.
>”Yea I know. Cutie marks really help with job security.”
>He looks away unsure, but he’s probably just bummed out.
“I wouldn’t know.”
>”Oh sorry. How’ve you been?”
>And now it gets awkward.
“Still no job.”
>”How have you not managed to find a job, Anon? Unemployment among adults is 0%.”
“No cutie mark for one. Can’t fly or do magic, for other. And I can’t fit through most doorways.”
>”But you’re like twice my height, and beat that train guy hoof wrestling.”
“Doesn’t change that labor jobs aren’t there.”
>Now you’re bummed out.
>You’d almost payed off your student loan too, but now your degree is worth nothing.
>”So what did you do before?”
“I’m a civil engineer man. No one here knows what that is.”
>”Wait, you’re engineer? Even ponies with cutie marks have to go through school for that. Though all Engineers are in Canterlot, or another big city.”
“Yea, well no jobs around here.”
>You feel worst knowing that there is a big city with a job that suits your education, but you’re miles too far and a couple hundred bits too short.
“I guess I’ll get out of here then.”
>”Wait no hold up.”
“What?”
>”Let me buy you a drink.”
“No, it’s fine. I should really get back to job hunting, or maybe do some odd jobs.”
>”Shut up and stick around, bro.”
>Thunder signals a bartender to get another drink.
“Alright, but know I’m broke and can’t pay you back.”
>The bartender puts a mug in front of you.
>”I’m your friend, Anon.”
“If you say so.”
>Maybe you were too callous. He looks hurt.
>But fuck that.
>You spend the day looking for a decent source of income and making loose change for any backbreaking labor.
>Meanwhile stay at strangers houses for the night, since the ponice don’t like you sleeping on a bench.
>You’ve earned the right to be callous.
>Drinking from your cup, you feel yourself slowly turn into a robot, as hatred consumes your once good personality.
>Or some other /r9k/ shit.
>”So. Did you find a place of your own?”
>You don’t stop drinking and merely look at Thunderlane over the mug.
>Only in part because you don’t wanna talk about it, but more because this is the nicest thing you’ve drank in a long while.
>”Yea, I guess that was a stupid question.”
>Wow, this is exactly as awkward as you knew this was going to get.
>You put down your empty mug.
>”You wanna come over my house?”
“Nah, man. Thanks. I gotta get back to job hunting.”
>You stand up; this time sure you’re going to leave.
“Thanks for the drink Thunder. I’ll see you around.”
>”No, wait up!”
>You quickly start walking towards the door.
>Thunder still follows you, pleading to come home.
>You’re starting to feel bad, but you honestly don’t want to be a sympathy leach.
>You’re walking down the streets quickly, and Thunders stubby legs can hardly keep up.
>He starts flying, and flies right next to you.
>”C’mon Anon! W-we can play something?”
“Look Thunder. I’m tired of being a leach, I need to find something, I-”
>”You’re not leaching, we’re friends! What are friends for?”
>You slow down.
>Thunder is really set on this, what’s one night worth to you anyway?
“Fine.”
>he immediately lights up. You almost feel bad for denying him before.
>”Alright! Let’s go!”
>Thunderlane clings close, flying around you, sometimes landing on your shoulder and joking or saying something before flying.
>Maybe he’s making sure you don’t run away, he’s never more than a couple feet away.
“Wait, don’t you have a cloud house?”
>Last time he brought his house close to ground so you could sleep on his couch.
>”Well yea. But that’s not my only house.”
“Gee Thunderlane, how come your mom lets you have TWO houses?”
>”What? My mom didn’t let me have two houses.”
>You feel the meme simply glide over him, and into the abyss.
>”Anyway, most Pegasus have two houses. You didn’t think we all lived in clouds all the time did you?”
“You guys spend more time in the cloud house; I just assumed that’s the only one.”
>”Nah, they’re not very stable. Cloudsdale, needs constant maintenance. One time, half the city just disappeared.”
“Huh, I guess that’s interesting.”
>”Not far now.”
>You still have half a mind to try to refuse, but your pride should have been forgotten on some strangers side table.
>You’re not going cold tonight.
>”Here we are. I know it’s not much, but-“
>He stops saying whatever he was gonna say.
>”Anyway, come on inside.”
>You enter his modest home; your head almost hits the doorframe.
>”Let me set up the game system.”
>You two play the rest of the day away.
>You never thought 2-player pong could be so addicting. Considering you were born after the Cold War.
>”Oh, damn.”
“What?”
>”It’s dark. Almost 8.”
“Oh. Wanna call it for the night? Your score isn’t going to improve.”
>Your score is almost 4 times his; he was clearly distracted the whole time.
>Still looked like he had fun.
>”Yea, ok.”
>Thunderlane cleans up the console, while you do before bed while you have the luxury of a house.
>Soon you’re on Thunderlans couchbed, It’s one of those couches that fold out into a bed.
>All lights are off, and Thunder walks off.
>Covered in a blanket too small.
>Brain forgetty, eyes are heavy, sleep on your mind already...
>f(t) = t + x
“Mff..”
>”Shh, careful.”
>You swear something warm is on you, sliding around.
>You feel pangs of pokes and heat around your body.
>After a couple minutes of crawling around, the warmth settles in your chest.
>You’re not sure what it is, and more things poke you.
>You don’t dream anymore, not when you’re tired anyway.
>Imagining a rodent or something, you immediately thrash around in a sleepy state.
>Squeeze and turn.
>”Hey hey! It’s just me Thunderlane!”
>And it is.
>In the dark, you can make out his Mohawk and face.
>Your eyes adjust to the moon light in the window; you can see him blushing and his gray fur.
“Thnder? Wha ya doing?”
>”Hey, th-this is a misunderstanding right...”
>He starts looking for something to say.
>Then suddenly, he takes a breath, looks you right in the eyes determined.
>”Screw it.”
>He quickly moves down and locks lips with you.
>Trying to keep you from pulling away, though you are in no position to do so in your sleepy state.
>His tongue is unsure, but you limply penetrate his mouth and twirl around a little.
>Too sleepy to know what you’re doing, and now getting hard from the stallion on top of you.
>He pulls away, blushing and looks like anything could make him cry right now.
“Wha- you wan?”
>He opens his mouth to speak, but seams unsure himself.
>You can feel him involuntarily grinding on you.
>Feeling warmth wherever he rubs, as he uses his own pre to lubricate himself over your belly.
“Oh.”
>”I-I... Anon, I.”
>He tries to say something, but either you’re too sleepy to understand or he doesn’t complete.
>It’s probably the latter, because you’re in a state of sleepy hyper awareness.
>He gathers his balls, and just turns around.
>You sit up, more confused, just as the tingly feeling from your cock rises.
>You see his head bobbing up and down over your pelvis.
>Enjoying it, you grab the stallions rump.
>Operating entirely on sleepy instinct, you take something into your own mouth.
>Licking around his ponut, you taste a sweet fluid.
>Something is already lubricated this, your tongue easily glides over and into his ass.
>The stallion moans with your cock in his mouth.
>Enjoying the vibrations from his throat, you want him to moan more.
>Sticking your tongue in all the way, his legs simply give out.
>Thankfully, you’re supporting him.
>You pull your tongue out, and instead lick the area around, slowly moving down.
>Eventually, you take a lump into your mouth.
>You never fully understand what it is, just that anything you do makes the stallion verbally react.
>Drunkenly and unknowingly, you gently bite down.
>The stallion gives a powerful gasp, before he pull of your cock.
>”’Non! Mfff- Harder!”
>You do as told, and bite harder, earning a staggered moan from him.
>Returning to gently caressing the stallion, who returns to servicing you.
>You grab his cock, and give a short stroke.
>Immediately, thick fluid runs down your arm, with the one stroke.
>”A-Anon! Wait!”
>The stallion quickly turns around, to face you again.
>Your hands are still in mid-air, as the body parts are snatched away.
>You adjust a hand the short way to cup Thunders face.
>He looks you in the eyes, blushing with a sincere smile on his face.
>”I-I’m already really close, a-and I want this- this to last.”
>You’re not sure what you do, or with what state of mind.
>But you grab Thunderlane, and turn him around so his back is against your belly.
>Lying on your sides, you’re big spoon and he’s little.
>You look down; your cock is poking between Thunderlanes legs, stopping just after his shaft.
>Maneuvering with finesse you didn’t know you had, in a state of sleep and lust.
>You guide the head of your cock to Thunders tailhole.
>”I trust you, Anon.”
“Ai wuw, ye, too.”
>You press your cock into him.
>He gasps at the feeling, and you hum at his warm interior.
>You go as far as you can, before you’re stopped by some annoying tissue in the way.
>Oh well, still about 27/32 of the way in.
>You start pumping, pulling out into the cold, before back into the warmth.
>Thunder moans each time you enter all the way again.
>His cock pulses each time, you glide in or out.
>Using your hands, you simultaneously rub his belly and scratch his neck.
>He starts moaning more and more.
>You quicken your pace, and his moans turn to yelps.
>His insides are maddening, tight all around, but easy to move in and out of.
>He’s drooling on the mattress now, you quicken up.
>”Fa-fas *HA*HA*, Rig*Moan*.”
>You just ignore it, and keep going as fast you can, but gently.
>Soon, you feel Thunder begin to tighten more and more.
>His breathing becomes even more unpredictable and ragged.
>You notice the head of his penis change shape.
>In a moment, he takes a sharp breath and tightens like a hydraulic vice.
>”AN’N!”
>You physically cannot move, though you still try.
>He lets out a moan mixed with a yelp and scream, as his cock twitches hard.
>He shoots a load a good yard.
>Followed by another scream and another shot, followed by another 3.
>His body twitches a couple of times, as his ass loosens again.
>You get back to pumping and with each, a small glob of cum exits his cock.
>Keep on pumping, you notice he’s almost screaming each time.
>”P-plea *haa* stop!”
>Hearing that, you immediately stop.
>”S-sorry. Sensitive.”
>You slowly pull out of his ass, hearing his plea.
>”No! N-no! Just gimme a minute.”
>Stopping midway more confused.
>You want to sleep, you want to fuck, you don’t need this.
>”Alright, go.”
>You don’t know if any time has passed, but you get back to it.
>Pumping into him once again, his breaths are more pained than before.
>You don’t know how much time passes, but soon you’re close to the edge.
>”Anon- Anon, I’m gonna... Again. Faster.”
>You accept, and increase your speed with all the might you have.
>His breathing becomes unpredictable again, though less than before.
>His head is flared again.
>He yells and gives a powerful spurt.
>Less impressive than last time, but still a foot or so.
>His squirming and squeezing drives you over the edge.
>You breathe hard and thrust into him, filling him with your seed.
>He moans more as he feels the warm fluid filing him up.
>Spurting a few more times, before going completely limp exhausted.
>All your lust converted into tiredness, and so all you have the energy to do is pull out.
>Kiss Thunder, and go to sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------
>Feeling some wetness, you wake up.
>Though you didn’t get enough sleep the night before, you feel fresh.
>Then you remember why. Only faintly, but still remember.
>There he lays, you’re friend.
>Almost like remembering a dream, but too real.
>Thunderlane, is pressed into your chest, happily breathing.
>You swear you see a smile on his face.
>You look down, seeing all the fluids on his ass, and your flaccid cock.
>Disgusted with yourself, you gently move away.
>Getting up as not to wake him, you quickly move to the bathroom.
>You feel like an awful person through your tasks.
>Wiping down your body, putting your pants on.
>You grab everything you own, and stand at the door.
>Feeling worse than you did the night before, you walk out the door.
>Gently shutting the door behind you, into the morning sun.
>Not wanting to turn into a leach, you used your friend in a worst way.
>Probably hurt him.
>You have some things stored around at assorted places.
>Some money to get you a ticket, all your belongings.
>You need to blow this town.
>Where? Wherever the ticket takes you.
>Why? You don’t know, you just can’t show your face in this town anymore.
>It’s time for you to have your way, move to another life time.
>Ride the train, through the misty daytime.
>This time, you’ll be ready when your feet touch ground. Wherever you come down.
>And if the folks will have you. Well IF they’ll have you.
>Broke and leaching off your friends, and strangers.
>Any world that welcomes you is better than the world you come from.
--------------------------------------------------------
>You feel great waking up
>A bit sticky, and your ass is sore, but still feeling great.
>You open your eyes, the afternoon sun shining through the window.
>Rolling around on your back, you turn over.
>Expecting a warm soft chest, instead there’s nothing.
>Maybe Anon’s getting breakfast.
>You smile and blush still feeling full from the night before.
>You roll around the bed for a while, just feeling too comfy to get up.
>You feel the mess you two made on the bed sheets, and giggle to yourself.
>If there was something, -well, somepony- here. You wouldn’t even bother getting up.
>Slowly, you get out of bed, wanting to find your friend quickly.
>You bounce around the house calling out.
>Feeling as peppy as ever, you check the obvious spots.
“Anon! Anon, you in the bathroom, buddy?”
>Opening the bathroom door, you see no one.
>Feeling some worry, you quickly enter the bathroom and take care of your morning routine as well as the mess from the night before.
>If you had your way, you’d keep it inside you all day.
>You quickly step out of the bathroom, looking for your alien friend.
“Anon! Are you around here?”
>You search your kitchen.
>It’s small, but pristine.
>You’re starting to feel worried. Where Anon could have ran off to?
>You sweep your house one more time, nothing.
>No longer thinking, you fly to the door.
>It’s unlocked, Anon left.
>You swallow at the realization.
>Did he leave because of you? Maybe he’s just out. Maybe he never saw you more than a bed.
>You hold back a quiver, and refuse to accept anything.
>Flying out the door, you fly above town.
>Scanning for a pale two-legged alien.
>You land at the bar, sometimes he shows up here to look for a bed, though it’s probably too early for that.
“Tap! You see Anon?”
>”Thunder? Nope. Thought he left with you yesterday?”
“Yea, but now I’ve lost him.”
>”Oh. Sorry to hear that, son. I’ll get the word out.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks, Tap.”
>You run out the bar, and back into the air.
>it’s a warm and humid day, you have a hard time flying on days like these.
>You circle around places Anon hangs around.
>Each time you circle around town, you feel more and more like you should give up.
>You check every place, everypony he’s ever worked for, every place he’s been.
>Maybe he just left, maybe he’s working right now.
>You feel torn between different theories on him leaving.
>A gut feeling keeps telling you, it’s your fault.
>Maybe if you’d been a better friend...
>After what feels like the hundredths sweep, you land next to the bakery.
>You spot Miss Pumpkin heading inside.
>Anon knows her pretty well, she even offered him a place to stay, but Anon declined.
“Misses Pumpkin!”
>The old mare looks your way; her summer bonnet shades her from the sun.
>”Thunderlane? How have you been dearie? I haven’t seen you since... well I don’t remember when I last saw you.”
>She looks away thinking, with a warm smile.
“Miss Pumpkin, have you seen Anon?”
>”Anonymous? Yes actually, I saw him earlier. I thought he was just looking for some my famous pumpkin pie, but no. He just wanted to take some things I was holding for him. Poor dear, I wish I had a pie for him.”
>She thinks for a second, almost as if she’s forgotten something.
“Where did he go?!”
>”Is he lost dear? He took a bag her said he brought from home, and then he said good-bye. I asked where he was going.”
>She looks a little worried, and looks away thinking.
“What did he say?”
>You rush her.
>”He said, he didn’t know. Just said something about moving to ‘another lifetime’. He always was a weird one, but soft on the inside. A rose of a colt, but so lost.”
>She looks off again.
>You don’t have time for this.
“Do you know where he went?”
>”Oh?! Umm, well he took his things, and hugged me. What a warm hug it was, he always was so gentle...”
“Then?!”
>”He walked to the station I think.”
>The train station? Why would Anon go there? Unless he left town.
“Thank you miss pumpkin.”
>As you turn to leave, miss pumpkin puts a hoof on you.
>”Be sure to find him dearie. He’s always lost, yes, but only thing sweeter than my pie, is that Anonymous.”
>You nod, and fly off towards the station.
>The station is outside of town by a little bit, which is why you missed it in each sweep.
>Flying as fast as you can, you reach the station quickly.
>Landing just outside, exhausted.
>You run up to the platform, and you notice the train is already leaving.
>Heavily breathing, you scan for Anon, and then look up the train leaving.
>In the 3rd carriage, you see a hand out, Anon sitting looking out the window.
>You run towards him, too tired to fly anymore.
>You just can’t catch up to it, no matter how hard you try.
>Your run slows to a jog; your eyes are still locked on the man in the train.
>The train gets faster, and you slow down even more.
>Just then, Anon looks back, and sees you.
>You look each other in the eyes, and you stop moving.
>He looks away for a second, thinking, Before looking back.
>He gives a soft smile, barely noticeable. Then puts a hand up, and waves.
>You slump down in defeat, and raise a hoof to wave.
>Holding back tears as best as you can, you sit on the platform watching the train turn into speck in the distance.
>Soon the train isn’t visible anymore.
>You hang your head, and shuffle home.
>Good luck to him, you’ll have to get along...
>Somehow...
--------------------------------------------------------
>You move some stuff around your shared office.
>Normally other ponies would be helping you, today; you’re the only one working office.
>You shift through some folders, sorting and separating things.
>Folder on desk, you sit down and start studying it.
>Start out reading, but your mind wanders immediately.
>You pick up a hoof-sized metal square, sitting on your desk.
>A buckle from an old friend’s belt.
>You’re not sure how he dropped it, or if he’s still wearing a buckle-less belt.
>You laugh at the thought of that.
>Stopping quickly, remembering old times.
>Memories and this buckle, is all you have left now.
>The buckle is brass, with some writing embossed on it.
>’Winchester Repeating arms’
>With some sort of bat embossed underneath the words.
>’New haven Conn’ embossed under that.
>He once said this was his favorite buckle, you hope he doesn’t miss it.
>Closing your eyes, you think back on the Alien. How he showed up one day, seemingly out of nowhere.
>Didn’t have a cutie mark, but was good at everything.
>Couldn’t get a job. Still gave it his best shot.
>”Thunderlane!”
>You turn to whoever called your name, wide-eyed staring at your manager.
>”What’s wrong with you, colt? I’ve called you for nigh a minute! Into my office, son.”
>You’re not sure what he wants, but you know it’s not something good.
>You get up quickly, putting the buckle around your neck by the chain you put on it.
>It’s a bit clunky, but you don’t want to lose it.
>The walk down the hall is uninteresting; your boss sits at his desk waiting for you.
>”Take a seat, colter.”
>Doing as your told, you prepare for whatever he’s going to tell you.
>”What’s gotten over you, colt? I know ya had a loss, but that was nigh a year ago.”
>Your manager sounds like a scolding dad.
>You don’t entirely mind, but you know he doesn’t know anything.
>”Ya gotta pull outta it colt. Sometimes, life ain’t fair; you can’t just sit around and mope.”
“I’m not moping, sir.”
>You know you’ve been moping, but you still don’t wanna hear it.
>”Thunder, son. You been doin the work ya used to hate, I know ya liked to fly not sit around a office all day.”
>You look away, he’s not wrong, you hate office work.
>But you just haven’t been feeling like flying, or doing anything.
>You’ve been trying to do the least amount of work possible.
>”And ya sit around and stare at that thing whenever ya get the chance.”
>He points at the buckle around your neck.
“It’s not a thing, it’s my friends.”
>The old stallion shakes his head, looks you in the eyes.
>Serious, but sincere.
>”Look colter. Take a couple months off. Don’t worry, there’s a job waitin for ya when ya feel better. Go out there, find what ye’re missin lad. Go see the good nurse at the hospital, if ye’re still confused.”
>You think about it for a while.
>Since Anon left, you’ve done very little.
>You wake up, work, come home and sleep. You can’t even remember when you went to a bar.
“OK. Thanks boss.”
>”Stay safe, son. Now get outta here and take life while yer young.”
>You immediately head for the exit; you don’t have anything at work.
>You opt to fly.
>The town looks better from here; the day’s not too bad for flying.
>You circle around the town, just as you did 8 months ago.
>Except this time you’re not sure what you’re looking for.
>You think back to hanging out with your friends and Anon.
>He used to humble everypony.
>Once he hoof wrestled your train yard worker friend. Big guy, legs like trees.
>Anon’s skinny, everypony tells him to hoof wrestle, Track.
>Minute later, he’s got track under his hoof trying to get out.
>Doesn’t even make anything of it, just takes another drink and says good game.
>That’s what made him cool.
>Some ponies didn’t like him.
>You circle around a few more times, thinking back to all the times you hung out.
>You’ve been thinking about him a lot more now.
>More than you did for 8 months. Something about this week.
>You’ve had dreams with him in it, but he never says a word.
>Soon, tears are blurring your vision.
>It’s best to just go home.
>Apathetically, you land on your front door.
>Open it, and enter.
>You don’t care to do anything else, and just decide to go to bed.
>Taking a minute to go to the bathroom, you catch something as you walk out.
>A small metal thing.
>You pick it up and look at it, it’s got Anons name badly engraved on the side.
>You’re not sure what it is, it has smaller pieces of metal sticking out of it.
>You try pulling one of the larger pieces with your wing.
>Your hooves keep slipping, and your wings aren’t strong enough to do much.
>Though it is a struggle, you manage to pull it out.
>A small knife.
>You smile to yourself, thinking about how this is just another weird little thing from Anon.
>You carry the knife to your room, and stare at it in bed.
>After a few thoughts you don’t like, you put the knife into your drawer.
>Anon wouldn’t like it if you used the knife to hurt yourself.
>He was your friend.
>He’s still your frien...
>...
>”Thunder...”
“Hmmf..”
>”Thunder buddy.”
“Huh!”
>’There he is! It’s Anon!’
>’Say something Thunder! Say something!’
>”Huh! Hmm! Mmmf!”
>’Say words! What are you doing?’
>’Wait!’
>’He’s saying something.’
>”...Open the door, feel the wind on your face...”
>”Mhh..”
>His hand rubs your head, but it feels really strange.
>”...Hold on tight, while I find you your place...”
>’What is he saying?’
>You don’t really care though, just hearing him speak is more than what you’ve been getting.
>”...I don't know why I left you here anyway...”
>’It’s OK Anon.’
>’Please, come back.’
>”...When I went out to claim my prize...”
>Anon follows your mane, and under your neck.
>The feeling is just like you remember.
>”...You pulled up to me with your three guys...”
>You remember when you first met Anon.
>You found him in a field you played hoofball.
>”...You didn't say you’d bring, so I had to fit in...”
>Some of the guys where pretty shitty to Anon.
>You never really thought about that.
”Mmmmmh.”
>You want to say sorry, but you can’t.
>The words just won’t come out.
>”...There's a time and there's a place...”
>He looks somewhere, somewhere behind you.
>You try to turn your head, but you can’t.
>”...I'll confront you between earth and space...”
>Where!?
>I’ll be there! Tell me where!
>”...Or else, your loyalty will be the end of you...”
>He looks you right in the eyes, and you stare back.
>”...Unless I spit some sense into you...”
>There he is, protecting you from yourself.
>Again.
>”...I didn't fly too good...”
>He looks at the floor, and you see the top of his head.
>This was what you looked for every day.
>A quick spot of that hair below, and your day was set.
>”...Dropped in this town alone...”
“Mhhhm!”
>You want to say something, anything.
>Nothing comes out.
>You keep trying.
>”...I know you thought I would...”
>”...So I wanted to try next...”
>You guess that’s why he left.
>You knew he wasn’t happy here, he had nothing.
>Even though he tried his hardest, he just couldn’t do anything.
>”...maybe if I decide to speak up...”
>He looks you in the eyes again.
>”...You won't have to go out just like your friend...”
>You think you smile.
>Maybe not.
>But either way, you feel warmed.
>He doesn’t want you to feel the way he used to.
>The way that made him leave.
>”...so let me tell you, give you an answer...”
>”...tell you what you wanna know, so you won't meet your end...”
>’Tell me Anon!’
>’Where are you! I’ll find you! Promise!’
>”...Our destination is over the horizon...”
>He hugs you, in this weird way he would.
>Anytime you felt bad, this is what he’d do.
>”...but if you don't talk, it’s ok, I’ll put it down...”
>’No! I do wanna talk!’
>”Mmmmmh!”
>You try again, but it’s almost as if something is keeping your mouth shut.
>”...you're gonna fly so good...”
>”...over the fields below...”
>”...you’ll see where we stood...”
>”...get ready to go...”
”Anon.”
>Though you didn’t say much, it was a struggle to say that much.
>You keep trying to say something else.
>Something more.
>Anon is still holding you, the way he held you.
>You know it was a weird way to hold a pony, but you loved it.
>Suddenly, he grabs you and looks you in the eyes.
>”...Black cape, Everfree, old man, carpentry...”
>”...how could you not see him?...”
>You think you know who he’s talking about.
>A carpenter visiting from a town north of Canterlot.
>”...Right there all along, looking oh so weak, he’s strong...”
>”...Where you play your stupid games...”
>You’ve seen the carpenter at the town square.
>That’s where the town games are gonna be played for the next week.
>Something that happens every year, to celebrate the founding of the town.
>Anon always did call the games stupid.
>”...but you'll have to take him...”
>”...you'll have to break him...”
>”...if you want to try and find this place...”
>You think he’s warning you that the carpenter won’t just tell you.
>You’ve heard that too, the old stallion isn’t exactly friendly.
>Anon, slowly loosens his grip.
>Then embraces you warmly again.
>”...This is where I fly so good...”
>”...Now, I’m gonna drift away...”
>”Nnnnmm!”
>’No! Please don’t go!’
>You want to beg for a few more minutes.
>But once again, words just don’t work.
>”...it's ok, I know you’re up for the job...”
>”...of being my best friend.”
>You try to hold your friend longer.
>But you feel his grasp simply fade away.
>Like he just disappeared.
>You’re left alone in the middle of some place.
>It doesn’t seem to make sense, just some empty room.
>Suddenly, the walls and ceiling melt away, like wax from a candle.
>And you’re left in some abyss.
>You look around, and all you see is the void.
>You feel like something is looking at you, but you don’t see anything but black.
>Then suddenly, the floor crumbles beneath you.
>You try to step away, but nothing helps.
>You start falling into the black, trying to scream but you can’t.
>It’s like you’re on a rollercoaster, or in freefall.
>Then suddenly, it’s like you hit the lower limit of the void and you feel a sharp pain.
>--
>Your eyes shoot open and you breathe heavily.
>Feeling the cold sweat on you, you feel pain in your chest.
>Your heart is beating wildly, and your eyes are filled with tears.
>It’s now you realize, it was all a dream.
>Maybe a nightmare.
>But it was too real, too vivid.
>Maybe it was Princess Luna helping you.
>But Anon, what did he have to do with it?
>You look out the window and realize it is midday.
>You get out of bed, and quickly do your morning routine.
>There is an old carpenter with information about your friend.
>You’re gonna find him.
>You have to find him.
>Swallowing 3 apples whole, you rush out the door.
>Flying fast, you rush to the town square.
>You circle around the square for a while, looking.
>The ground below is packed already with ponies; it’s hard to discern one from the other.
>Searching through the crowd of mares and stallions.
>Fillies and colts, you try to find who you’re looking for.
>No matter, you simply can’t find him.
>Then you suddenly remember.
“Black cape.”
>You whisper to yourself, and start searching for that feature.
>Not many ponies wear anything, and a black cape in this weather is a rare thing.
>You spend more time searching, but then you spot him.
>Old stallion, a black cape covering him, a cutie mark with a saw cutting wood.
>You approach him, and he immediately perks to your sound from the crowd.
>”Don’t bother me, young whipper snapper!”
>He yells to you, staring into his cider mug.
“S-sorry, sir. I was just wondering if.”
>You don’t really know what to say.
>Maybe you should have brought a friend.
>Actually most of them are too brash; they’d annoy the old dude.
>Anon would be perfect right about now. He’d probably not even say anything, just sit in front of him and drink.
>Make the old man ask what he needs. Or something.
>”Ah don’t care! Ah was just enjoying my visit and this darn place filled up!”
“I just need to know something! Are you a carpenter!?”
>You force the question in before he can shut you down.
>”Are ya blind colt?! ‘Course I’m a carpenter! I ain’t no griffin, it’s written right on my flank!”
>This old stallion is starting to annoy you.
>You’re just trying to find where Anon is.
“I just need to know where somepony is!”
>”Whas wrong with you colt? Firs ya ask me if I’m a carpenter, now ya wanna ask me about somepony?”
“Sir, do you know someone named Anonymous?”
>The old man looks up and right into your eyes.
>You swear you see anger in his eyes.
>”Nah! I ain’t heard that name. Now go away!”
>Alright this guy has annoyed you enough.
“Listen you old relic! I don’t care if you’ve had a shitty day or shitty life! Tell me where Anon is!”
>You demand standing over him with your wings flared ready to fight.
>You’re not really sure what you’re trying to do, but screaming at the old stallion sure helped with the stress.
>You realize many ponies around you have stopped their daily business, and are now looking at you.
>Some give you dirty looks, presumably for yelling at an old stallion.
>”I don’ know what your problem is, colt. Get outta here Thunder.”
>Some ponies guide you away from the old stallion, asking what’s wrong.
>You try to explain it away to them, and leave the square more frustrated than ever.
>Head to the bar right outside town square, you get a drink sitting at the counter.
>”What’s wrong, Thunder?”
“Nothing, Tap.”
>You try to brush him off, but knowing Tap that isn’t gonna work.
>”Don’t seem like nothing. Say, why haven’t you been coming in? Settle down with that Anon, ya colt cuddler?”
>Damn it Tap...
>You feel your cheeks warm up. Anon’s a human, that ain’t colt cuddling.
“I’m not a colt cuddler, Tap. And no, Anon left...”
>It’s all wrong, the dream, the old stallion.
>”Left? Damn... Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
>There’s something you’re missing, maybe something in the dream, maybe something the old dude said, maybe something else.
>”That Anon was something else though, eh? I never knew it was so easy to tell somepony is lyin.”
>Tap cleans a mug with a rag, while talking to you.
>You stare into your half empty cider mug, thinking if you’ve missed something.
>”Just think about what they’d said, and think about who said it and when they said it.”
>’I don’ know what your problem is, colt. Get outta here Thunder.’
>’Get outta here Thunder.’
>How did he know your name?
>The old stallion was lying; he does know where Anon is.
>Or at least who he is.
>You down your drink in one go, and jump out of your chair.
“Thanks Tap!”
>”Go get em sport!”
>You camp outside the square, with new conviction.
>Eyeing every pony to enter or leave.
>Then suddenly, it’s him.
>Your lookout has paid off. The old stallion is leaving.
>You observe him walk towards the dirt path away from town.
>Taking flight, you hide into clouds as you observe him.
>He looks over his flank a few times, but he can’t see you.
>Jumping cloud to cloud, you see him walk into the Everfree.
>The Everfree is too thick for anypony to fly around in, but you can’t lose the trail.
>Without a thought, you land and follow the stallion into the forest.
>You stick far behind enough that he doesn’t see you, but keep on his trail.
>Suddenly, he stops at a clearing with some logging work being done.
>”That’s close enough. What do ya want?”
>No point in keeping the cover up now.
>You walk out and look at him.
>”You again? You lost yer mind colt?”
“You know what I want, old man.”
>”I ain’t telling you again colt; I don’t know nopony named Anon.”
>You’re getting information out of him one way or another.
>You walk closer, trying to be intimidating, but you know your desperation is clear as day.
“I know you’re lying! I know you know who he is!”
>The old stallion sits down and looks at you.
>You keep on him, but you don’t know how long you can keep this up.
>Maybe you’ve been chasing ghosts this whole time.
>Maybe the dream was just that, a dream.
>Meaningless, not really guidance.
>”That his buckle?”
>You’re taken back, and you clear your face, allow the real emotion through.
“Yes... Please tell me where he is.”
>”So, you really are Thunderlane?”
“Yes, do you know Anon?”
>”Yes son. He’s the son me and my wife couldn’t have.”
>You thank Luna in your heart.
>Finally, you’ll see Anon again.
>”Anon... got into trouble with the wrong kind of ponies in Manehattan. He’ll tell you the specifics, but long story short he ran from the guard, some griffons and more than a few mad ponies on hoof.”
>The old stallion laughs a little.
>”Funny, the way he is, you’d think he couldn’t raise trouble if he tried.”
>You want to urge him on, but you listen intently anyway.
>”Anyway, he ended up in our town. Trottsville.”
>You know Trottsville, it’s an average sized town next to Neighagra falls.
>It’s known for it’s practical arts.
>Recently, clocks that don’t need magic to run have been coming out Trottsville.
>”I know what yer thinking, ‘the town with the clocks?’. Yer friend Anon’s the one that’s responsible for that.”
>Anon invented the clocks?
>Those clocks are valuable; I guess that means he’s finally got a job.
>”I could go on till Celestia grows a beard, but ya heard me yap enough.”
>You’re speechless, you don’t know if you should say anything.
“Does he talk about me?”
>”Can’t stop talking about ya. Some other ponies, but mostly you. Gather you where his only good friend.”
>You look away, thinking if you were a good friend.
>”He always wants to come back here, son. Says he didn’t see he needed ya till he left. But with the guard lookin for him, I ain’t letting him leave.”
>Once again, you’re at a loss for words.
>But now you know where Anon is. Should you go visit?
>A few minutes ago, you wouldn’t even have asked that question.
>But now, he sounds like he’s happy. He has a job; he can probably find plenty of ponies.
>”Oi, stop thinkin about it. Here.”
>The stallion pulls a piece of paper outside of his cape.
>He gives it to you, and you take it with your wings.
>Train ticket, first class cabin.
>”The train stops a couple pastures from the town. A sign points the way.”
>You look at the stallion speechless.
>”Go on, colt. I need to stay here anyway. Go get em, son.”
>The old stallion pats you on a wither, and you smile.
“Thank you.”
>With that, you fly home, ticket in teeth.
>You check the time of departure, it’s later tonight.
>You’ll be there by noon tomorrow.
>Without thinking anymore, you pack some things into a saddlebag.
>Putting Anon’s knife thing into the pack, and his buckle.
>You spend some time grabbing some other things.
>By the time you finish, the train boarding time has come.
>With some hope, and some fear.
>You fly to the train station, and board the train.
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