Anon's Horn: Chapter 2

Previously, on Flutterrape's "Anon's Horn"...
http://pastebin.com/NxY8PXjg

Anon's Horn: Chapter 2

>You are Anon.
Good morning, Ponyville!
>You jump out of your bed, you got things to do. After your usual shit-shower-shave, you sit in front of the fang again, to check if anything has changed.
>The fang seems unchanged, but you don't see the shard you broke off. Maybe it fell from the table. You did leave the window open, it could have been blown away. Last night was quite windy. Good thing summer just started.
>You search around the room for it. It's not a big room and it doesn't have a lot of furniture: it should be easy.
>It's not under the table or the chair. It's not under the bed. It's not under the closet. You can't find it.
>And it bugs you.
>You remove the sheets and the pillow, you lift the mattress. You move away the books from the shelves. Drag the closet away from the wall. Nothing. It's just not there.
>Now you're pissed. Where the fuck did it go? You can't imagine it flying away through the window. It's too far away from the table and the shard wasn't that light.
>A horrible thought crosses your mind when you look at the fang again.
>You remember leaving a dent in the bone when you pulled the shard off.
>But it's not there anymore. The fang looks exactly as it was when you began your inspection yesterday. You spin it and turn it around, but the dent's nowhere to be found. That's not possible, that's-
...Ouch!
>You feel a sting on your thumb. Holy crap, those edges are pointed. You lick the tiny wound, barely bleeding. You should have been more careful. You should've...
>...put the gloves on.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck, fuck me!
>You dash to the bathroom, to try and wash the prick. You feel that familiar sensation you always feel when you accidentally get a splinter on your hand: no matter how hard you squeeze it or clean it, there's always something left inside.
>That feeling normally just annoys you. Now it's freaking you out.
>After ten minutes under the bathroom tap, the bleeding stoped. You curse your way back to the bedroom and glare at the fang. The tiniest drop of blood stains its broken base.
>That's it. You're gonna smash the goddamn thing to pieces, then burn it, then bury it on your backyard, as you should have done when you find it first. You walk off to look for your trusty hammer, wondering what kind of tree you're gonna plant over the fang's ashes, when something makes you turn around.
>You look at it again. There's a faint buzz in your ears. The more you gaze onto it, the more you doubt. Maybe you should think it twice.
>The buzz gradually grows louder. This thing may be dangerous, but it also could be a source of power. If you study it further, you could learn magic someday. Real magic. Pony magic. It's so promising, and so...
>So long, so smooth, so sharp, so stylized. So obviously powerful... How could you even think about destroying it? You should wear it! Wield its magic without fear nor doubt! Stab it in your skull, it will look majestic on your forehea-
>Wait, what? Where did that come from?
>Experience. It looked great on mine.
...
...who're you?
>The buzz stops. An image appears on your mind. Two huge wide green eyes, with lizard-like red pupiles, over a fanged grin.
>"...Just a shadow, amigo mío. Just a shadow."
...
>You hear a noise coming from downstairs. Someone's knocking on the front door.
>Great. You just needed a break.
>You toss the fang -or horn or whatever- on its drawer and close it. Put on a shirt and pants and hurry downstairs.
>You'll apreciate anything that keeps your mind out of that freaking bullshit. Anything that keeps you from believing it's real. You open the front door with a charming smile, ready to merrily greet whoever is out there.
>There's a cannon aimed at your face, point blank.
>Okay, maybe not that merrily.
>The cannon shots, blasting you backwards in a cloud of smoke and confetti. Pinkie Pie enters your house, hopping and laughing, as you lay on your back, still quite disoriented.
>"Good morning, Anon! I hope you like the breakfast!"
The what?
>Still lying on the floor, you notice something's on your chest. It's a metal platter with a full breakfast on it: cupcakes, a toast covered in blueberry jam, some chocolate cookies, a tower of syrup-covered pancakes... and a freaking glass of orange juice. Not even a single piece of confetti has touched any of it.
Whoah, a breakfast cannon! That's a new one!
>She giggles, charmed by your praise. You've already learnt to not question anything around her. You just enjoy her logic-shattering shenanigans.
>"Weeeeeeell~? You gonna read it or what?"
>She points at the platter. There's a pink envelope on it. You open it, wincing at the burst of confetti and streamers coming from it. Inside's an invitation to a party this evening, at Fluttershy's cottage.
>"Today's Angel's Birthday! Fluttershy told me that he was feeling very lonely and she's helping me prepare a suprise party! Everyone is gonna be there!"
>You frown. Wasn't Angel's birthday a month ago? You remember it, you were still living with Fluttershy. Angel wanted a big party, but Fluttershy convinced him to do something more quiet. When did she change her mind?
>Pinkie is looking at you anxiously. You mentally shrug. Well, you're not gonna spill the beans. You value your skin too much to put yourself between Pinkie and a party.
Sure, count me in.
>She squeeks and jumps and hugs you and squeeks again.
>"GREAT! The fun starts at 6 o'clock!"
>She jumps into the cannon.
>"I've gotta go. These invitations won't deliver themselves!"
>The cannon spins 180 degrees and fires. As she comes out from its mouth, flying, Pinkie grabs the heavy artillery piece and drags it with her over Ponyville, drawing a beatiful rainbow of streamers and gunpowder smoke over the village. Fuck physics.
>You smirk.
Good ol' Pinkamena.
>Back to business. There's work to do.
>You close the door behind you and head to the apple farm. You're already a bit late, but you know AJ won't be too tight about that.
>You walk across Ponyville, humming to yourself, whistling, greeting every single pony you encounter.
>Wave at Lyra, who faints and falls from her balcony. She's always like that with you around. You hope she'll be okay, she fell on some flower beds, anyway.
>Nod at Big Mac, who's pulling a cart full of broken tools to the carpenter. He nods back at you.
>Accept a muffin from Derpy. She's a nice girl... mare, whatever. You savor it as you hear her crushing onto something as she flies away.
>You greet Cheerilee on her way to the school. You shake hands -hooves- with the Mayor, wave at Berry Punch.
>You are doing your best to get immersed on Ponyville's morning atmosphere, to forget what happened with the damn horn-
>Oh, that counts as thinking about it. Back to humming.
>"H-hey! Oh, uhm... good m-morning,... Anon..."
>Fluttershy's right behind you. She looks shy-er than usual. And that's a lot of shyness.
Oh, morning, Flutters. Didn't notice you back there.
>You turn to face her. She's more than looking at you. She's eyeing you, from head to toes.
>A slight smile appears on your face. She's not precisely the most extroverted pony around, but you kinda like her. You really got to knew each other quite well when you lived together.
"Not as much as I wanted, though."
>Shut up, penis, not the time, not the girl.
"Who cares? I've waited enough!"
>She's just a friend. Maybe later we'll get some time together.
"That's what you said last time! And the time before that! And-"
>Back to Fluttershy. You realize she's been staring at you during your silent discussion. More precisely, she's staring at an area of you between your chest and your knees.
>You cough.
>She winces, looking quite ashamed and... annoyed? You shudder. That reminded you of the nightmare.
>You must be wrong. You've never been good at reading pony facial expressions.
Did you want something...?
>"Yeah, well, that... I actually did... if you don't mind that is..."
>You internally sigh. This may take a while.
>"I-I just wanted to give you...this..."
>She pulls something from under her wing. A pink envelope, ready to burst.
"That makes two of us"
Is that an invitation to the party? Pinkie Pie already shot me one earlier.
>"O-oh, did she...?"
>Now you're sure she's dissappointed. Maybe she wanted to invite you personally.
>Owww, that's so sweet. You kneel and pet her mane. You remember she liked that.
>Her wings extend out at your touch. Okay, that's new.
"Doesn't it remind you of something?"
>Shut up. She's not like that. She just likes it.
"Ain't I saying just that?"
Don't worry, Flutters, I'll be there. I wouldn't miss Angel's party, specially if all our friends will be there.
>"Angel?" She looks surprised. "Oh, yeah, Angel! Of course, it's Angel's birthday party!" She giggles nerviously.
Yeah, about that. I don't know if I'm wrong, but didn't we celebrated his birthday a few weeks back, when I was still living with you?
>She winces and looks around, a forced smile on her face.
>"W-well, we did, but... but... that didn't c-count... because I... I... mixed up the dates?"
>She lies awfully bad.
Oh, okay then. See you this afternoon!
>She sighs in obvious relief and waves you back as she flies away from you as fast as she can. Which isn't that much.
>That was wierd. Wierder than her usual wierd.
>You shouldn't worry about it. Maybe she was just feeling bored and wanted an excuse for a party.
>You shrug. Who cares, you're not gonna complain. Any Pinkie party is a good party for you.
>Finally, you arrive at Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack is waiting for you at the fence. She looks annoyed, but smiles when she sees you.
>"'Bout time! What took ya so long, ya slowpoke?"
>You smirk.
A cannon shot.
>That makes her chuckle.
>"Yeah, Ah know what'cha mean. Pinke Pie can be a tad too... rough, sometimes."
>"C'mon, there's work to do. Those apples won't pick up themselves, will they?"
>You follow her to the apple trees, smiling. Is that confetti on her mane?

>You've been picking apples for a few hours, now. You're not strong enough to buck them off the trees, but you don't need to. In Equestria, everything seems three sizes smaller than in Earth.
>So you just reach a hand and pick the apples. Sure, you're not as fast as AJ, but you're still much faster than most ponies. And it's a lot less tiring.
>You hear the farmhouse bell ringing. Lunch time. Good, you were getting hungry.
>Put the apples in the buckets, and the buckets in the cart. This is the worst part. The cart is heavy as fuck, and ponies -obviously- pull them themselves.
>You pull it all the way to the house. It is quite tiring with only two legs. When you get there you're covered in sweat. Good thing you took off your shirt a while ago. Picking apples might be easy, but Celestia's sun beats down pretty hard during the Equestrian summer.
>You decide to wash it off before eating. There's a water pump behind the barn.
>Oh, that's better. As you wash yourself, you can't help but notice how muscular you got working at the farm. Back home, you were more of a weakling, but now you're chubby belly is flatter than ever. And you'd swear you can discern the shape of your abs.
>Amazing how much a little daily exercise can do.
>When you finish, you reach a hand out for the towel. You can't find it until AJ throws it at your face.
>How long has she been there?
>"That's a nice back ya have there, pal."
>You smirk, and flex your arms openly.
Enjoying the view?
>She chuckles. You could swear you saw some red on her cheeks.
>"Knock it off, show-off. C'mon, food's getting cold."
>You put on your shirt and follow her, feelling awfully proud of yourself. It has been a while since you last flirt with a girl until she blushed.
"It hasn't"
>No, Fluttershy doesn't count. You never flirted with her. And she's always blushing anyway. Applejack is different...
>Now that you think of it, that's another big change.
>When you arrived here, you had trouble thinking of these ponies as people, equals. And you knew the feelling was mutual.
>You know them now, you understand -to a point- their feellings and thougths. You see them as they are: not better, not worst, just ponies.
>Hell, you even began to see some of them as 'beautiful'. Not just in a 'oh, that's so cute'-innocent way. Without having been relieved even once since you arrived here, your dick is far beyond caring about the difference between human women and mares.
>And the fact that three quarters of Equestria's population are females doesn't help you either. Your dick has even developed it's own voice in your head.
"Fuck yeah I did!"
>That's the lunch bell. Time to eat.

>Woah, Granny excelled herself this time. You could have never imagined the sheer quantity and variety of flavours one can obtain just from apples.
>You finish with a graceful burp, sincerely and repeatedly thanking her for this feast.
>She laughs and tells you to think none of it. Your daily ritual.
>You stand up and head to the fields outside when Applejack stops you.
>"Ya dun need to get back to work now, sugarcube." You look at her, surprised.
>"Ya helped us enough lately, Ah think ya earned yarself some free time" She grins at you. "Ya'll need time to prepare yarself for Fluttershy's party, dont'cha?"
You mean Angel's.
>"Yea, sure. Angel's..." She winks at you.
>What does that mean?
Uh, okay... Thank you...I'm off then.
>"See ya later!
>What did she mean? Your know Fluttershy was lying about the party, but AJ seems to know more.
>She's quite perceptive. She's the Element of Honesty after all. And one of Fluttershy's best friends. You're sure she would have told her something else.
>Quite frankly, you can't help to have some suspicions.
>Fluttershy wants to do a party. A Pinkie party. The excuse is Angel's birthday.
>Which was a month ago. And when it was, she didn't want a big celebration.
>She's FlutterSHY, after all. She's never comfortable when there's crowds and loud music.
>Then why she wants it now?
>It doesn't make sense.
>You wonder, what may that yellow pegasus be after?
"I bet she wants RUTTIN'!"
>That's only you, pal. That's only you.
"Fuck that! They're mammals, ain't they? And they have fillies! That means sexual reproduction. So they must have SOMEWHERE for me to stick in!"
>For fuck's sake, shut the hell up. You're almost worse than the horn.
>...Speaking of which, you should check on it. You still have plenty of time.