Ghost anon part two

>as before, you are still dead
>BonBon and Lyra are going at it, and you are trapped in this darkened room
>could be worse
>you could be a prinny
>you chuckle at your own joke, when something surprising happens
>"Lyra...do you hear laughter?"
"huehuehuehuehuehuehue"
>this is too good, now
>"Lyra, stop...I hear laughter, I'm sure of it!"
>you waltz over to the couple, and begin to play the bongo on BonBon's bum
>she freezes up and shrieks, as you actually make contact with her body time and time again
>"Lyra! HELP MEEE!!! IT'S SOOO COOOLD!"
>Lyra stares at you, dumbfounded as you flash her the biggest shit eating grin you can, your face literally stretching to hold it.
>and you stop
>Lyra hits the lamp, turning it on as BonBon shivers and cries into her shoulder
>the light, however, slams you into the nearest wall
>Lyra glares at you, mouthing:
>"this is what you get, flankhole!"
"Yeah, well a happy birthday to you too."
>maybe sitting in here with Lyra and company wasn't the way to go.
>maybe
>just maybe
>being able to prank p0nies wherever they may be without being caught or held responsible was the way to go
>you just had to remember what apparently constituted as rules to you now
>light can hit you, you can touch things in  a dark room, you are cold to the touch, and Lyra can physically move you
>well as long as no more new things popped up, you were sure that this was going to work out juuust fine.
1/X
>you walk up to the window, which was now well lit, and press a hand against it
>you went through
>testing the wall nearby, that was also lit, you found it solid
>another rule: cannot pass through solid lit objects, or maybe its just that glass can be passed
>whatever the fuck
>I don't give a damn
>you hop out the window, giving Lyra the one fingered salute, and land at the base of her house
>she lived pretty near the center of town, so who else was nearby?
>you had wasted darn near 2 hours, so hopefully everyp0ny else had left your godawful funeral
>you could see lights on at Twilight's library
>close enough, and a likely victi-uh er, i mean
>...
>yeah, victim
>you swooce across P0nyville like some old forgotten vigilante
"SWOOCE, MOTHABUCKA, DO YOU MOVE IT!?"
>you can yell as loud as you please, but no real sound occurs.
>it's kind of liberating, actually
>screaming and hollering [spoiler]"HOLLAHOLLAJOHNMADDENJOHNMADDEDAEIOUAEIOUAEIOU"[/spoiler] you make it to the library tree
>one room has a window today, that surely wasn't there before
>who cares
>you enter through the wall just to check
>yes, if it's dark, it's fair game for your ghost shit
>ghosthax.exe bitches
>you spy spike, sleeping upon the sill as the sun sets
>getting alliterative up in this
>and Twilight is moving about, writing and gathering certain books
>as you investigate, you find these are all books on you
>you helped Twilight with all the research you could think of
>a shame you never thought of anything medical
>which is, sadly, why you are now a ghost
2/X
>you can hear Twilight sniffing occasionally
>is she sick?
>nope, she's crying like there's no tomorrow
[spoiler]hey, for once the phrase sounds right![/spoiler]
>"I...I couldn't save-snff-himm..."
>"I-I-I'm the smartest p-po-ony around, and I didn't even think about his m-medical histo-ry-yy-yyy!"
>she wails on like this as you watch
>phew
>at least you weren't the only one who forgot
>not even the dead know peace from this guilt, however
>knowing that she blamed herself for your death really rustled you in a bad way
>and you thought you had no jimmies!
>you put a hand on her shoulder, but it passes through
>she stops sniffling and bemoaning her fate for a second, however, as the cold from your touch sets in
>shivering, she sends for spike to set the sill closed
>all alliterative up in this
>that's when she notices that the window is closed, and that she has just woken Spike for nothing
>"A-anon?"
>wat
>"Is that you? I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."
>jegus this mare.
>so smart, so dumb.
>it isn't her fault you died
>sort of
>she looks to the pile of books and then trots up the stairs to bed, extinguishing the light as she went
>perfect timing
>you couldn't properly prank her after the >feels she just put you through
>instead, you walk right up the stairs, and hug her torso
>she flinches at your touch, as you are still colder than the comfort of putting the man who murdered you behind bars
"It's not your fault."
>she doesn't hear you, but smiles as you let her go
>she lies down in her bed and Spike resumes his curled nap
3/X
>time to make it right
>you swooce down the stairs (this has become your favorite word) and snatch up a quill and an empty book
>you write in some sappy stuff about how its ok, and not her fault, and sign it with your thumbprint
>as authentic as an autist's OC
>still alliterative
>and offensive!
>finishing that, you jot down what you could remember about human anatomy and health, from medicine to edibles, to diseases and sexual reproduction
>you add a drawing of a woman with big tits
>classy
>this continues through the night until the breaking of dawn forces the quill out of your dark grip
>well, when she sees this, she'll see whats what
>and then you won't feel bad about pranking her
>you almost warn her, but that's totally against the entire point of pranking her
>you are anonymous
>and in death, noone will be able to tell its you anyway
>so in a way, you kept your anonymity
>swag.
>you walk to the Western side of the library and promptly let yourself out through the wall again
>ok, now that its day, this is gonna get tricky
>all you've really got is cold feet
>and all you can give is the cold shoulder
>and your puns are bad
>you should feel bad
>you instead decide to go to Apple Acres
>its suitably shady in the orchards
>not alliterative enough
>you walk across the path to the Apple family farm, and you can just barely see Applejack and Big Macintosh getting ready to buck apples
>time to get ready
4/X
>Big Mac rears back for the kick
>and you intercept it with your spine!
>good god, its great that you're a ghost
>alliterative enough
>he stops as he hits the tree, a look of horror etched on his face
>one apple falls down
>in the shade
>you snatch it out of the air
"Now I'll take this apple..."
"and EAT IT!"
>you bite into the apple, and spit it into the ground as fast as you could
>it tastes like the lingering butt stench in a toilet stall nobody flushed!
>and that's pretty bad!
>Big mac instead opts to, at this point, scream
>"BWOOOAAAHH!"
>that boy ain't raght, ah tell you hwat
>you drop the apple and take off as Applejack looks over to see what the fuss was about
>you turn and walk away backwards so you can catch her reaction
>she's laughing quite openly at her brother for being such a puss
>mission accomplished
>your next mission could be anywhere
>at any time at all
>down here in the deep blue seeeeaaa
>but the laughter puts a spring in your step as you skip back down to P0nyville
>it's gonna be one wild ride
5/5