Unorthodox Demands

>You are Anonymous
>You are one of the most-
>No, you are THE most powerful necromancer in all of Equestria.
>Forget Equestria, the whole world!
>You have a massive horde of undead ponies and griffons encircling the city of Canterlot.
>That's pretty high level necromantic stuff.
>You've besieged the capital of Equestria and even the Princess of the Sun cannot stand against you.
>That's top shelf.
>You're a winner.
>You won this war the moment you started it.
>Now the Princess will have to acquiesce to your demands, for she and her country are powerless to stop you.
>...
>She's laughing.
>Maybe she's relieved that her and her people will not be slain?
>No.
>No, she's definitely laughing at you.
>More specifically your demands.
>You didn't think you were asking too much.
>You've always admired Princess Celestia and wondered how soft her fur and mane was.
>You didn't have anything you really wanted to demand from Equestria, you just wanted to show that you could conquer it.
>Prove you weren't a two bit magician.
>You figured the Princess would read your demands and accept immediately.
>Instead she's here laughing at you.
>You decide to tone down your demands.
>Backpedal a bit.
>It doesn't help.
>The Princess refuses your demands and you sheepishly withdraw from her throne room.
>You clutch your staff and step onto the back of your zombie dragon, retreating from the castle.
>You can feel the dead stares of your legion upon you.
>You have all this power and you couldn't even get Celestia to hold your hand for appearances.
>You're no winner.
>You're the biggest loser in the world.
>You slink away from the castle, your army of undead in tow.

>You head towards your black citadel, your legions trailing behind you.
>Normally the constant storm clouds and blighted lands surrounding it cheer you up.
>They're home, after all.
>But not today.
>Today they only remind you of beauty that lies beyond your reach.
>Flowers that will never bloom in the cracked and barren fields.
>Birdsongs that will never fill the air between the dead tree branches.
>Sunshine that will never pierce the veil of cloud cover.
>Sunshine...
>You turn and look out over the sea of bones and rotten flesh swarming behind you.
>Your minions.
>Each one loyal to you unto their own destruction.
>Every single one given their life by you, and willing to return it to your cause.
>And they do not matter.
>They are puppets, and you their puppeteer.
>That is all you are.
>A master puppeteer, but still a puppeteer.
>A skilled entertainer.
>A clown.
>The greatest clown in all of Equestria.
>You turn and lower your gaze to the cracked and blackened earth before your feet.
>You wish to be alone.
>You walk through the door of your tower, dismissing your undead to mill about the region as they usually do when you're not putting on a show with them.
>You dismiss your personal guard within the tower as well.
>You wish to be alone.
>You ascend the stairs to your bedchamber and lock the door behind yourself.
>You fall onto your bed and stare through the dim light at the wall.
>You wish you weren't so alone.

>You wake up the next day.
>Well, it seems like the next day.
>It's easy to lose track of time here with the lack of proper daylight.
>You seldom have to pay attention to any sort of schedule as well, which exacerbates the issue.
>Regardless, you wake up hours later.
>You're still wearing the robes you fell asleep in and since you're not expecting to see anybody today there's no reason to change them.
>You walk downstairs and into your kitchen.
>You look in the cupboards for something to consume.
>You'd thought about raising yourself a zombie chef to prepare food for you when you'd first erected the citadel, but decided against it.
>Your minions had some semblance of thought within their minds, but independent creative ventures were essentially beyond them.
>You'd need to be telling a cook how to make any dish it prepared, which dishes to make every day, and deal with the sanitary hazards of corpseflesh in the kitchen.
>Not worth the hassle.
>Besides, most of the time you enjoyed cooking.
>Most of the time.
>Today you're pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.
>Today food is only necessary to keep your body functioning.
>To stave off death another day.
>You taste the sugary sweet cereal on your tongue and briefly contemplate suicide.
>You mull the idea over in your head and juxtapose it with lichdom.
>Do you want to cease to exist entirely or live forever as something no longer human.
>You've thought about this conundrum before.
>Today you make the same decision you've made every other time.
>That's Future You's problem.
>Present You just wants to forget yesterday even happened.
>Ugh
>Yesterday
>You had almost forgotten why you were in this bleak mood to begin with.
>Princess Celestia laughing at your demands.
>You could have ordered hundreds of her citizens dead on the spot.
>That would have shown her for laughing.
>But you didn't.
>You slunk away like a shamed puppy.
>You set your empty bowl down on the counter and snap your fingers as you exit the kitchen.

>Your elite skeleton guards open the door to the citadel and flank you on either side as you exit.
>You will not sit around all day feeling sorry for yourself.
>You've done too much of that already.
>You might be just a joke to the Princess right now, but you'll be the one laughing next time.
>You just need to get some help.
>Luckily, you know exactly who to talk to to get it.

"Meaeaeaeaeah."
>The goat bleated and shook its head vigorously.
"You don't understand, I have to see him immediately."
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
"I'm willing to pay, if that's the issue."
"Meaeaeaeaeah!"
"Do you even know who I am? I'm Anonymous, the necromancer. That undead dragon over there? I rode that here. I RAISED that!"
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
"Listen, I don't need a ticket to this stupid carnival show, I just want to pay for private coaching, I don't need some stupid seminar with fireworks and audience plants."
"Meaeaeaeaeah!"
"Fine, I'll pay to see the stupid talk, but I'm not going to be satisfied with it so be ready to give me my money back."
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
"Yeah yeah, lousy square eyed carnie such and such"
>You mutter under your breath as you dig out the bits to pay the goat for a ticket to Iron Will's latest self help seminar.
>You move to walk into the stage area when the goat blocks your path.
"Meaeaeaeaeah!"
"Why would THEY have to pay? They're SKELETONS. They can't use any self help!"
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
"Wha... Where do you possibly think anypony could be hiding INSIDE of them? They're bones! Look!"
>You wave your hand inside the ribcage of one of your guards.
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
"Ah yes, 'Rules are rules,' the justification of fascists. Lemme see what I've got... Here. This pays for two of them, and the rest will stay outside. Happy now?"
"Meaeaeaeaeah."
>You hand your bits over before waving off most of your skeleton guards to idle around the zombie dragon.
>The remaining two continue to flank you as you enter the audience and find a place to stand.

>You move to stand in the center of the crowd of ponies.
>They give you and your bodyguards plenty of space, as you expected.
>Ponies are generally skittish, and you don't expect to find the bravest in Equestria attending a self help seminar for assertiveness.
>You do hear some of them whispering behind your back, though.
>"Isn't that the necromancer?" "What's he doing here?" "Didn't he attack Canterlot?" "I heard the Princess laughed at him."
>You turn and glare at the ponies in question.
>They skitter away in terror, filtering backwards through the crowd.
>Nobody moves forward to replace them, and the circle of empty space around you grows wider.
>Good.
>Stupid ponies.
>Music starts playing as fog begins to fill the stage.
>A spotlight shines and a bulky silhouette rises from the stages.
>It extends its arms and stagehands pull away the cape covering the details of its form.
>Punching his way through the fog as the music reaches a crescendo, the figure is revealed to be a blue minotaur.
>Iron Will.
>Here to turn doormats into dynamos.
"Welcome friends. My name is Iron Will, and today is the first day of your new life!"
>The ponies in the crowd sheer and stomp emphatically.
>You stare blankly, leaning on your staff and waiting for this nonsense to finish.
>Iron Will makes a few calls for the audience to stomp.
>They do.
>Iron Will asks for a volunteer from the audience.
>A sea of hooves goes up around you.
>They're ignored, and Iron Will points directly at you.
"You there, the tall guy in the robes. Iron Will wants you on stage!"