[NEETPone] Anon finds Floor (short), by anon

>Be Anonymous
>Be permanently unemployed.
>A NEET in Equestria.
>You simply aren't job market material to these ponies on account that you aren't branded, regardless if there are other species that don't need that shit.
>To ponies, a cutie mark is everything.
>It brands them with their talent and helps them get a job that best fits it.
>Very unlike a human, who can go their entire life without ever finding that which really clicks with them, not that anyone would care, there's jobs that need doing regardless of your opinion on them.
>It's honestly better this way though, you think.
>The ponies call them blank flanks.
>To you they seem just like any other pone, but to them, they are fundamentally broken, like they have some extreme physical disability that prevents them from work, and it goes beyond that too into their social life.
>You find yourself amongst the rare few that develop a case of "Never got their talent", mostly because ponies look at a resume and just trash it once they see that blank space next to "cutie mark"
>This means you can't work.
>If you can't work, you can't get payed.
>No money means no home or food.
>Thankfully, Equestrian welfare extends to non pony citizens.
>You get a monthly stipend of bits for doing fuck all.
>You even got housing.
>The princesses figured that blank flanks might not be able to work or live normally, but they can still make friends with other blank flanks right?
>So you're gonna room with a pony by the name of Floor Bored.
>You make your way through town.
>Getting odd looks from ponies causing you to feel self conscious and to start sweating.
>Once you make it to the small cottage, you stop.

>The white, almost cracked walls have lost their paint in many places.
>The windows are completely covered in grime, you couldn't even see inside if you wanted.
>The small front yard is an overgrown forest of grass, roots and weeds
>You shudder, thinking about all the manner of bugs and other small disgusting critters that call it their home.
>You notice a rat carcass getting devoured by maggots in a corner.
>You hesitate.
>The place looks abandoned.
>You try to figure out if you got the right address until you get interrupted by a clearing of a throat.
>You look down to see a small poner with her nose scrunched up in contempt.
>"Are you here for Floor Bored?" she spits out the name.
>You nod slowly, unsure of what she means.
>"Good, finally, I've been calling about the smell for days! Just look at the place, she hasn't come out in weeks, she's probably dead in there."
>You look around, the house IS a glaring sore sight in the neighborhood, but you doubt she's dead.
>As long as she got food, she'd be fine right?
>You walk forward, opening the small, creaking, rusted gate with your foot.
>That thing just looks like a walking tetanus dispenser.
>You make your way through the brush, you hear rustling the moment you set a foot down and try not to think about what it might be.
>You hastily reach the sun bleached door and shake yourself off, ruffling yourself to make extra sure nothing itched a ride on you.
>You go to knock, but then realize this is your home now as well, you have a key.
>The door creaks loudly from its old hinges as it reveals the blackness inside the house.
>The smell of mold, horse and a dozen other things you can't put your finger on hit you like a train.
>It's rank as fuck.
>Is she really dead?
>You gulp down and duck your way inside, the only illumination coming from the front door letting in sunlight

>From what you can see, the room looks like a living room and kitchen combo.
>Your boots are loud against the dusty floor as you make your way towards a window.
>You almost swipe your hand across it to clean it of the grime, before realizing you'd be retarded.
>With some effort, you manage to dislodge the window from its closed state, it has probably never been opened once.
>It lets more sun in and as an added bonus, lets some of the stank out
>You should announce your presence right? Wouldn't want your new roommate to think you're a robber.
>You aren't much of a social butterfly though.
"Hey, hello? New roommate here, are you alive?"
>Your voice isn't very loud,
>For some reason, you've never been one to yell, you can't even do it by force.
>You spot two doors on either side of the living room.
>One leads to the only bathroom, the other to another room.
>You can hear something from it. Sniffling.
>Well, at least she ain't dead...
>You knock on the door and open it.
>Cans and bags clatter and crumble as you slowly push the door open.
>If you thought the smell was bad before...
>You gag.
>If you could attribute smells to pictures, this would be the smell for that time that one anon posted pics of his cesspool of a home.
>Maybe you should leave.
>Come back never
>"*hic*"
>You hear a quiet sob from the corner, in a pile of sheets where the smell is the strongest.
>You try to get a better glimpse through the darkness.
>You spot a little pony wearing a hoodie that covers most of her flanks.
>She's lost in her own world, sobbing, the fur on her face matted with dried tears.
"fug"
>Imagine being a creature from a species that has their talent marked and for all to see, and which adult life revolves around.
>Now imagine your talent doesn't manifest even after you're past school age and everyone either pities you or sees you as a burden or nuisance.
>Equestrian NEETdom is some serious shit when you don't come into life fumbling for meaning like a human.