Spoonlicker Anon Pt. 17

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Summary: Anonymous is a child that no one can understand, not even Flutters. However, Twilight has been steadily making steps to develop a new system of language based on gestures and mannerisms. The creature she once discredited and then feared has become something of a special interest now that she understands a little more on what, or rather who, Anonymous is.

Last Chapter: After teaching the others about Anonymous' gestures, Twilight then teaches Anon some pony mannerisms thanks to some edging by Pinkie Pie. Twilight notices Pinkie's ulterior motive and calls her on it. The group weighs in favor of playing charades, and with Twilight's blessing everyone, including Anonymous, goes to the living room.

Anonymous, Twilight and Pinkie make up a team with Pinkie acting more as an interpreter. The game lasts late into the night, and the practice helps breach the language barrier. After the game the collection of ponies split off to their own beds, with Twilight and Anonymous sleeping in the Apple family's living room.

Posted in Thread 975
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>At some hour you can only classify as ‘too early’, your semi-conscious mind picks up the hushed whispers of your friends. A lingering memory presses against your tired thoughts; the sensation of a fading dream.
>Not even bothering to open your eyes, you stretch and moan. Your limbs are oddly restricted by some shape your nerves seek to map out. The form of another body shifts against you with a deep breath. Their breathing then returns to a steady rhythm.
>Content to leave things as they are, you fall back to sleep.

>A few hours later you awake and find yourself able to freely move. Shoving the sleepiness from your joints, you push against the cushions. Your wings give equal tension as you extend to their absolute fullness. Satisfied, you melt back into the loveseat.
>Smacking your lips and opening your eyes you get ready to start the day. Beyond the ticking of a nearby clock and the scrawls of scribbling there is barely a peep. Seems you two are alone.
>Lifting your head to take a look, you spy Anonymous sitting at the table in front of you. One of the blankets is wrapped around its shoulders, but leaves the arms free. Alongside the collection of crayons you spy a pile of wrappers.
>You just plop your head back onto the couch.

>Maybe if you ignore the problem it’ll go away. No, that’s never works. You’re going to have to get Granny Smith a new bag of candy.
>You step out of bed and leave to grab yourself a drink. Anonymous takes notice, but focuses on the drawing. When you come back with your floating cup of juice it waves you over and points to the paper.
‘You want to talk?’
>Let’s take a look.
>On one edge of the paper is a small hominem by a red building. Up and center is a rough four legged body with chubby wings and horn. At the far end is a pair of misshapen hominems, much larger than the first. An arrow runs the length of the paper starting at the small hominem, arching to the alicorn above and landing on the guardians.


>You set your glass on the table to remove the distraction. Your mind chugs along at a snail’s pace among the satin morning, slowly building up steam. Anonymous’ request is clear, but your answer isn’t.
>There has been no word of any sightings, and without any clues you are fumbling in the dark. If you knew you wouldn’t hesitate to escort them back. With everything considered, sending them alone would cause you to worry. Plus, you would like to say hi.
>You can’t promise it will be soon, but you do have a helper now.
[Yes]
>Anonymous drops the crayon and begins to rise. Before the blanket can be fully cast off you tap the drawing and add your own doodle.

>In the middle you draw the two guardians. Like a compass, you add mountains to the north, forest to the south, water to the west, and desert to the east. You then point to the key parts while using short and long pauses to establish the structure.
[You]; [Guardians]; [Mountains] [Forest] [Ocean] [Desert]
>Anonymous speaks a low call and circles the guardians. It bangs on its chest, chops, and raises a hand as high as possible. The flat hand swings back and forth parallel to the ground.
>So that’s what that was.
>[Me]; [Family]; [Tall Me/ Guardians]
>You confirm the meaning using a similar wave over your head. After which you restate your question.

>Sitting back down, Anonymous stares at the picture and pokes at the pictures in the exact order you did.
>Hmm, we can improve this a little more.
>With crayon in hoof you expand on the forest section. A few pegasi circles over the trees and you mix the still images with new gestures. You poke your eye once then create a visor with your hoof and look around. The second time you simply poke your eye twice.
[Pegasi]; [Looking]; [Forest]; [Pegasi]; [No] [See]; [Gaurdians]
[Pegasi]; [Looking]; [Guardians]; [Mountains] [Forest] [Ocean] [Desert]


>Anonymous uses its own crayon and a collection of houses fill the center. Well, that is less than ideal.
>You try to decipher the location, but the only desert in Equestria is south of Appleloosa which has its own mountain range to the south and very little trees.
>Another picture slides into your view, held by a tiny hand. You recognize spotting it in the pile made yesterday. Three hominems stand by a house in a green field. A few trees, flowers, and houses make the landscape.
>Open fields instead of desert, possibly near the border of a forest, village-style community. That leaves a lot of places. However, living in the open begs the question of how they have remained hidden.

>This information may help the search, but it admittedly isn’t much. There has to be a map in this house somewhere.
[Stay]; [Here]
>Under the table? No.
>With the pile of newspapers? No.
>In one of the kitchen cabinets? Only cook books.
>Reading material in the bathroom? None.
>You have to keep looking; everyone has a map or globe even if they never use it. It’s just one of those things.

>Rummaging through a pile of discarded school supplies in Applebloom’s room you come across her geography book. Perfect.
>You return to the living room in time to catch Anonymous eat another piece of candy. Anon must be 90% sugar by now. They’ll need some grains to balance it out.
[No]; [Candy]. [Food]; [Later].
>They avoid eye contact and instead focus on the hovering book. Placing it on the table, you open to the relevant page and ask Anonymous where they live.
>Its gaze crawls across the miniature world with both awe and scrutiny. A student’s passion seems to take hold as the creature visually explores.
>You wait the whole time for a reaction; holding out for the eureka moment to strike. Eventually Anonymous loses interest and shoves the book away.


>It was a good try. Although it appears to be familiar with a map who’s to say how deep that understanding goes? Its culture or age could be working against you.
>You’ve left square one, but only made it to two or three. If a map didn’t work you’ll have to continue trying to analyze the drawings.
>Putting the experiment to rest, your attention turns to food.  Breakfast is the most important meal of the day after-all.
>Gathering the hoard of wrappers and the few remaining butterscotch drops, you head for the cereal cabinet you found.

 >’Reinsbran Flakes’: nutritious, tasty, and part of a balanced breakfast.
>You make a bowl for yourself and add a little bit of milk; a quarter of a cup to be exact. Just enough to ensure there are minimal soggy pieces at the end. You make a second bowl without for Anon to try.
>Entering the living room and set the dry bowl on the table. Picking your juice back up, you sit on the loveseat and enjoy some semblance of your usual morning routine.

>Your spoon clanks against the empty bowl as you release your grip. Not a crunch was lost due to your careful measurements. Fuel now fed your body and the fatigue in your muscles completely fades. With one last gulp you finish your juice.
>Anon was content with your offer. They occasionally nibbled on a handful, though the majority was abandoned by the time you were done. There is zero protest when you remove the bowl and take it to the kitchen.
>A comforting warmth coasts along your horn from the spell. No sting follows your basic spells so you dare to do something a little more demanding. Borrowing a crayon and blank sheet, you write new orders for the guard.
>’Search the plains and tree lines the Anonymous’ hereto referred to as ‘hominems’. Hominems builds their homes in the open. Forests remain as the next likely area.’
>You at least wrote in black to retain some sense of authority. Not the most appropriate for your first official declaration.


>As you walk to the door Anonymous slips out of the blanket and shuffles over. Outside you gaze at the sky for a royal guard. One of the patrols seems to be leaving the Everfree for town. Marking your target, you charge your horn.
>Purple fire encompasses the entirety of the rod and wells up at the base. A tiny bite accompanies the drain until your ammunition is fully prepped. You release the restraint and the orb sails through the air. It temporary lingers at the highest point and then disperses.
>The guards catch sight of the flare and nod to one another. All but a single soldier continue the journey while the other dives towards you.
>They land with speed yet plant themselves to the ground. There is not a single misstep as they shift from the proud stance to a bow.
>”Your Highness.”
>Some battles you just can’t win.

“Ay have new infermation concerning Anunymuus and where more might be. Share this message with the rest of the guard. Feel free to run it by the other princesses first.”
>The guard stands at his tallest and takes notice of Anonymous beside you. Anonymous watches him with the same wonder when meeting Rainbow Dash. The guard remains dutifully neutral and only bothers to take the scroll from you.
>”Az yuu wiff.”
>Message in mouth, they take off with a single powerful thrust.

>Anonymous shoots into a frenzy.
>[Pegasus]; [See]; [Me] [Guardians]
[See] [No]; [Looking] [Yes]
>Anonymous’ breathing becomes sharp and heavy; their eyes begin to glisten in the morning sun.
>You’ve seen this before; it’s only a matter of time.
Shhhh. [Pegasus] [Pegasus] [Pegasus] [Pegasus]; [Looking]. [Pegasus]; [See]; [Guardians]; [Yes] [Later]
[You]; [Me]; [Inside]; [Draw]


>Anon does not move, but the dam holds. You stay still to allow Anon all the time needed to collect them self.
>The sunlight drives into the pair of you exposed in the open fields. The longer Anon stands there the more your worry grows. You immediately hunt for the reason.
>Although it is day and their vision is clear Anonymous remains quiet. Instead of walking where it pleases they stick to their spot.
>Your brain calculates the equation, and then surprisingly diverts power. The solution slithers to the front while your face droops on its own.
>Anonymous has slipped into Passive Stage A.

>You mosey close to Anonymous and rub your head on an arm. With a lazy turn you nudge it slightly to the house and start walking. Gentle steps echo your own, and a hand rests around your neck.
>Once inside you lead Anon to the blanket by the table. You ease yourself down and sit next to them. Your friend curls into the covers and fully cocoons itself, then leans against you in silence.
>Your body holds firm in support while they sink into your fur.
>Where? Where could they be?
>The two of you stay like that in the empty house with only the tick tock of a clock for company.

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Posted in Thread 892
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>As you rest your head on top of Anon’s, you take in the whole of the situation. To say you are out of your element would be an understatement; cheering up foals or animals was never really your strong suite. You’re no Pinkie Pie or Fluttershy; you work better with facts and adults.
>One of those facts is that Anonymous needs company, and so you offer what comfort you can even if it amounts to nothing more than simply being here.
>Trying to discover their origin has been an exercise in futility, and now you have to leave the task to the guards. Your role has shifted, but you know what? It has been changing since you first met.
>And right now that role is to cheer up Anon.


>You look to the drawings littering the table’s surface for a springboard. Groups of hominems, always three or more, stand in a variety of poses with accompanying runes on the side. Maybe with cross referencing you can find a base to build an understanding.
>Feeding into your curiosity, you try to isolate each element of the ‘text’. Squiggly lines entice your gaze down their length; the curvy waves driving you out to sea. The imaginary scalpel you hold looms over the sentences unused.
>The symbols seamlessly bleed into one another, and no matter the approach you cannot find an incision point. Your eyes begin to glaze over as the chaotic lines threaten to swallow you whole.
>A mental jerk breaks the enchantment. This thought path remains off limits.

>Back to the tried and true.
>Ignoring the text, you study the crayoned actors eating, playing, and exploring. An underlying trend weaves out from the background. Now front and center, it is embarrassing how you overlooked it before.
>Almost all of them are wearing big U shaped smiles.

>You’ve already been working under the assumption that hominems share the same facial expressions as you, and that has certainly proven true. Now though, your fine toothed comb is put away. Facts such as height, numbers, and backgrounds are merely relative.
>Recalling the original collection of pictures from your memory banks, you also find very few exceptions; the most notable being the two teams.
>The main cast stare each other down, but everyone in the background is happy.
>A young pony would draw what it is familiar with, and you wager Anonymous is doing the same. With that being the case you can safely bet on one thing.
>Anonymous’ guardians are no doubt looking as well.


>Abandonment was a silly doubt, though one you could not ignore; you are a girl of science after-all.
>Reassured you continue browsing.  Having exhausted the top layer, your horn flicks to life and swaps out the bottom. With trained precision everything remains in its exact place but reversed as not to disturb whatever organization Anonymous was using.
>As soon as the pictures come into view your analytical mind whirrs with what power they are allowed.
>This batch is entirely different. Only one hominem exists alongside the many four legged caricatures. Two blobs, one yellow the other purple, float nearby the hominem in this one. Here a pink splotch holds out a stick with a white tip. And there is orange and purple in a dark forest.
>A budding pattern tickles both of your competing personalities, and logical Twilight asks you to hurl yourself at the descriptions a second time.

>If you could make heads or tails of these letters you could learn what Anonymous thinks about you and your actions. The evidence for whether you were doing a good or bad job is right in front of you, and you could fix any mistakes.
>Yet empathetic Twilight steers you to the young hominem leaning into your side. Your grade is not what is important right now. If you must pursue a way to judge yourself simply remember that Anon calls you friend.
>Those scared faces in the pictures evolve into happy ones starting with the crusaders onwards. Until, that is, the second trip to the Everfree.
>Red leering eyes power a dark silhouette stalking from the bush; a row of sharp teeth hungrily grinning. You move the picture to try and avert the evil gaze, but it somehow feels locked on.
>In another panel Anonymous floats in the air surrounded by a violet bubble while a representation of Fluttershy hovers over the concealed monster, turning its sharky grin into a frown.


>Even the comic featuring the fanged horror of the bandersnatch has you looking brave as you run away with Anonymous.
>You are a friend, and friends are there for the highs and lows.

>Yet history withholds nothing. In the brief aftermath of the crash is only sadness and Fluttershy; with you missing entirely. It is not until at Fluttershy’s house that you reappear wearing an angry expression.
>A pang of guilt stings, and an even deeper seated regret wells from remembering your magic test; though Anonymous did not draw that part. Despite your search the timeline skips to the lunch at the barn.
>Every one of you sits at the table with the exact same plate repeated seven times. Symbols unlike any seen before hang over your head with lines shooting out of your open mouth. Meanwhile, your wings are spread out, and Anon has left your eyes completely white with lightening-like accents.
>Rarity and Applejack share a smile that is merely slanted rather than a full U; a reserved calm eking out of their rounded eyes. Rainbows own slanted mouth was matched with an angled brow giving her a cocky grin.
>Fluttershy’s lips form a smaller u, which are mirrored for her eyes but upside-down. Anonymous is holding out a carrot for her.
>And the biggest U of them all of course belongs to Pinkie. Jagged crayon streaks jut out from her outline, and squiggles dance at her sides giving even the flat representation a sense of activity.

>A blast of air shoots out of your nostrils as a tiny smirk forms. The effect grabs Anonymous’ attention, and it looks up to you from within its hide. Hovering the picture forward, you share the item of interest with a full smile.
>They glance once and then turn back to you with their sullen expression. It’s faint, but you do see a spark in there.
>With a portion of your concentration and a mental flick the paper returns to its proper place. Imagining a yank, you pull the next few over.


>Minks, dinosaurs, dragons and various other beings populate the first. You and the makeshift nurses follow along with Dash and lunch. Cooking with Granny Smith and the resulting dinner take up two more; her gifted candy getting an honorable mention.
>Finally you come to where Anonymous seems to have stopped. You, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applebloom stand in silly poses while more speech lines burst from the partially drawn crowd.
>That was a fun night. The score may not agree, but you felt like a winner at the end.
>A bubble pops in your head, and you return the pictures to the table while levitating over the landscape you drew. You may have found your answer.

>Flipping it to the blank side, you grab several colors and get started. Anonymous eyes barely follow the motions, passively observing your measured strokes.
>Okay, brown; lots of brown. Lots of green, too. And of course purple. There.
>Oh, don’t forget the sun and clouds.
>Slightly shifting to free your wing, you cover Anon’s back and use your body to get them to sit straight. Next you tap the picture with your hoof.
“This is where Ay live.”

>A large tree with doors, windows and a balcony stands just off center. Behind the windows are shelves upon shelves of books. A purple alicorn and green dragon stand outside the door while an owl perches on a branch.
“My house is a tree. Remember tree?”
>Stretching both wings out, you reenact the charade from your seat.
“Ay live there with Spike and hOwluuhicious. They’re my friends. They also help me run the library.”
>During your explanation you keep your attention on Anonymous. Their gaze lazily jumps along with your actions.

>With another batch of colors you begin anew. More brown for some basic houses and road, blue for the fountain and decorations of the biggest house, and finally pink.


 “This is where Pinkie lives. It is also where they make all those treats you like. You remember this place right; where you had your first cupcake?”
>You add a mock pastry bobbing at the end of the fishing pole held by the grinning pink mare in the window. Anonymous’ face lights up with a soft groan. Now to put your idea to the test.
>With black crayon you add the simplest of shapes. A wide brimmed U.

“She’s a good friend, though ‘strange’ at times. Bet you already figured that out, huh?”
>Your gentle smile adopts a slight curl as the words leave your lips. Wonder if hominems are familiar with teasing? Given how Anon characterized your friends it could probably grasp the concept if it was explained.
>Continuing on, you pour purple and pink while using the black for outlines. A hint of blue, and just the tiniest amount of green mark the final touches. Actually, the building better have those yellow swirls or you’ll never hear the end of it; even if you do think they are a tad garish.
>Hee, garish. That’s not part of your regular vocabulary. She’s getting to you.
“This is where Rarity and Sweetie Belle lives. They’re pretty close, well in terms of living near me. Siblings will be siblings after all…”
>Keep any pair of siblings together too long and things will explode. Give them a few more years and they’ll probably be near inseparable; until life says otherwise.

>How else can you distinguish the two? Well, you’ve never been good with drawing dresses. A fancy hat will do. And as for Sweetie…burnt food.
>No, no, that’s too mean.
>You draw a sharp music note trembling out of the filly’s mouth.
“She may not seem like it straight away, but Rarity is very nice. She usually opens up pretty quickly, though she is a bit…fussy. You’ll be finding that out soon enough.”


>You then point to the smaller unicorn, and Anonymous signs ‘family’.
“That’s right. Sweetie Belle is Rarity’s younger sister and you may have noticed she…well…squeaks from time to time. It’s part of growing up. Did you, or will you squeak when you get older?”
>Marking the note, doing your best to emulate a cracking voice, and making both yes and no head gestures, you translate the question.
>Anonymous continuously rolls a hand in the air.
>[Continue/ Repeat]

>Trying again, you pitch higher while talking and use your hooves to emphasize your throat and voice.
>Those studious eyes narrow and drill into you throughout the act. Even after you finish it takes a moment for the stare to ease up. A hand rubs against their throat, and their mouth opens slightly before clamming back up.
>Removing the hand, the two arms clash together and Anon shakes their head.
>[No]

>Interesting. You should jot that down.
>Snagging a free piece of paper, you write a quick note then tuck it to the side and press on.
>Where to next? Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash are farther and farther away. Dash is in a whole other town, except when she’s loitering or planning trouble which is fairly often.
>Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple; you’re going to need all of the colors in the…okay that’s a bad pun, stop before you pull a pinkie.
>You place Rainbow in the sky near Sugar Cube Corner; the first spot Anon saw her. Beginning with her mane and tale, you color in the red, orange and yellow.
>Anonymous reaches for the blue and starts filling in the body.
“Very good, that’s Rainbow Dash. Her home is in the clouds at a place called Cloudsdale, though she hangs around here a lot. Just because you don’t see her doesn’t mean she isn’t around.”


>You pause the mime translations to draw puffy silver lined houses in the top corner with the word “Cloud”. Anon may not be able to read the text, but it won’t hurt to try and introduce them early.

>Finishing with the blue, Anon selects the black and draws a little pegasus alongside Rainbow.
>[Rainbow Dash]; (family); [Scootaloo]; [No]
>[Rainbow Dash]; [Wing]; [Scootaloo]; [Wing]; (family) (family); [Yes]
[Yes].
“Yes, Scootaloo is a pegasus like Rainbow. Unlike Rainbow, Scootaloo lives right here in Ponyville. Um, not ‘right here’ right here, but here as in there.”
>If you had a bit for every blank stare…
“You know what I mean. Right? Of course you do, it’s a simple detail. Rainbow lives in Cloudsdale, and Scootaloo lives in Ponyville.”
>Just to be safe you ask where the two live, and Anon answers correctly. The coiling tension unwinds and allows your regular pace to resume.

>The center and outskirts of Ponyville proper are covered, bringing you to the very fringe of town. A lone cottage rests on a shaded hill near a snaking river. Yellow and pink surround the small u’s stolen from Anon’s representation.
“You sure have her pegged; that expression fits her perfectly. And do you remember visiting the house with all of the animals? That’s her house. It may seem far, but it is actually just a small town.”

>After throwing in a landmark here and there for good measure, the journey takes you to the final destination.
“And alllllll the way out here is where we are. Sweet Apple Acres, home of the Apple family.”
>Anonymous reaches out for the dark red and fills in Applebloom’s bow. By this point you were drawing and Anon was coloring. A sort of team effort.
“Strong, proud, and stubborn. Once something gets stuck in their head there is almost no getting it out. They’re also super busy with the harvest, but lucky for them our friends are here to help; willingly or otherwise.”


>You end the lecture in what feels like your own company as Anonymous leans above the work of art the two of you have made. Passed the swinging shoulders wielding crayon is rough map of Ponyville revolving around where your friends live. Gaps of missing color pepper the scene, and the accuracy of scale is shaky at best.
>Those quirks, however, provide unique characteristics that mark the story of its creation. What’s more, you have met your goal.
>Although you cannot yet say how much, if anything, Anonymous has learned from you during this time, the abundant sadness has been swept away.