• Published 16th Feb 2020
  • 5,613 Views, 69 Comments

Race Relations - DatZigga



The story of a dragon introducing his new human friend to the ponies of Ponyville.

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Chapter 1- Anon, The Man At The Edge Of Town

There was a very short list of things that didn’t agitate Anon. Breathing was on that list because that was a necessity. Masturbation was also on the list, although barely because of the post-nut clarity that makes Anon think about the futility of life and lust. Lastly, the eponymous duo, food and sleep because, again, necessity. If he were to run out of food, that particular thorn finds itself being the most irritating to pull.

So imagine how he must’ve felt when he looked in his fridge to find it completely empty. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you: Pissy. Very pissy indeed. Now, if this was about a month ago, Anon would take up his shitty bow he learned to craft by watching a YouTube video during the many dives into the proverbial internet rabbit hole months ago and go hunt one of the many rodents of the Everfree Forest, granted that nothing was hunting him. Then his hunger would be alleviated for a couple days at the absolute most. Of course, he was no longer living in the Everfree, as he had for the past 6 months. No, at the insistence of that chubby little reptile, he was now an unofficial resident of the so-called Ponyville. Unofficial because he inhabited an abandoned house at the edge of the Everfree, last owned by a long gone horse who had enough food stocked in the kitchen to last a week. Well, that week was up and Anon now confronted an empty fridge.

God-fucking-damn it, G. Anon monologued, shaking his head. He slammed the door and, at that instant, his stomach growled in retaliation. It was a sensation he was used to, of course, being in the woods for an extended time does that. But, it doesn’t make it anymore pleasant when the hunger pains hit. Anon looked to his bow, contemplating a quick excursion to the Everfree. However, he was reminded of the dragon, who’s name he just remembered was Spike, telling him to stay away from the forest. Spike made sure to emphasize that the Everfree was a dangerous place. Anon knew how true that was, as he had the many, many, MANY, scars to prove it. He never got to be a Boy Scout, those guys never came to his side of town.

That, and Spike believed that Anon should integrate into Ponyville, as they were a helpful lot. Anon didn’t doubt it. How intolerant could a race of multicolored, multi-appendaged horses be? Surely with such differences as wings, horns, and just the legs they stand on, there would be no sense of racial superiority or a concept of discrimination, would there? Regardless, he took Spike’s word, given he was a dragon and if he could live amongst horses, so could an alien. That didn’t mean Anon himself was keen on the idea of mingling with the pony populace. It’s why he told Spike that his name was Anonymous, a subtle way of concealing his real identity.

Might as well start anew in your new life, right? Another growl shook his gut, snapping him from his introspection. Anon sighed, figuring there was no way past this: he had to go outside. Clearly not to a marketplace, he had no money. Still, if there wasn’t shit inside, nowhere to go but out. Push comes to shove, he can say “fuck it” and head into the Everfree anyway. He hadn’t died yet, so why would he now?

Anon grabbed his jeans, which sat on a clothesline by the window, drying in the light of the sun. It was the same jeans he was dropped into this strange world in, but regular washing by a nearby river kept them from being horrifically filthy. His shirt didn’t fair better tho, being reduced into nothing more than cloth that Anon used for his other tools. Instead, he stole a cloak that belonged to a vaguely African zebra that lived nearby him in the Everfree. How an Africa equivalent existed in this bizarro world was anybody’s guess, but it wasn’t gonna be him. Tying the cloak around his neck, the cape hung to as low as his ass cheeks, with the cloak leaving a little opening for his belly. The hood was useful for obscuring his face, which pleases him greatly. It was also cool, cause hoods were cool. Anon then put on his trusty-but-rusty shoes, his socks having been used up as spare tourniquets in the past. As Anon finished dressing, he located a mirror in the bathroom, cracked from a distant accident.

Anon gave himself a once over on his outfit. Then, he threw the hood back and moved the sides of his cloak to see his upper body. Anon had to admit, he actually looked like he knew what a gym membership was. Granted, he was still pretty thin, but with his muscles being more pronounced and the scars of past encounters with mythical creatures decorating his body, it looked as if Anon was some veteran survivor. It did wonders for his self-esteem. It was evidence of his adaptability and cunning, features he would never have developed in his old metropolitan world. And on that self appraising note, Anon smirked and put his cloak back on properly. He then strutted to his front door, silently wishing his phone was on so he could play some music to fit the mood. A little Wu-Tang was right for the mood, specifically Iron Flag. The scratching of that record in the beginning of that song, that traditional boom bap rhythm, and those melodic strings are just what the soul needs right now, but cannot have. Damn, the loss of music is what hurt the most. He grabbed the door handle, turned, and threw the door open.

“Oh. Hey, Anon!” Said a voice, one that Anon couldn’t pinpoint immediately until he looked down. Not surpassing Anon’s thigh, stood a plump little dragon of purple and green. In his hands-er, claws, he was holding a box, one that took both of his arms to carry. He looked up at Anon with a warm, welcoming smile. A smile that was almost slammed by the door as Anon panicked and swung the door until there was but a small crack.

“Shit, Spike!” Anon exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Could you knock or some shit? Scared the hell out of me.”

“But, I was about to, until you opened the door.” Spike replied, cocking his head to the size.

“Now, now, that’s no excuse.” Anon opened the door slightly, just enough to allow Spike through. “Hurry and get inside, before those horses see.” Spike walks in, shimmying through the crack.

“They’re ponies, Anon. Not horses.” Spike retorted.

“Quadruped, hooves, mane, snouts. They’re horses, just tinier.” Anon shot back. “The semantics is irrelevant honestly.” Spike sat the box on the small coffee table in front of the couch, the only other piece of furniture. Anon smelled something faintly from the box and followed it, kicking the door closed behind him. Spike sat and began opening the box, while Anon hopped onto the couch next to him.

“I noticed you didn’t head into the marketplace.” Spike started. “So, I went and picked you up a meal. It’s nothing special. It’s just a fruit salad. Ponies don’t sell meat often around here because-“

“Herbivores.” Anon interrupted with a mouth full of leafy greens. He wasted no time cleaning his plate.

“Yeah, that. I for one just stick to eating gems.” Anon had finished his salad far quicker than he expected or wanted.

“Gems?” Anon questioned. “You eat gems? Like, mineral crystals?”

“Yup! They’re what we dragons eat!” Spike seemed excited to talk about dragons for a change. For the most part, their conversations were limited to ponies and creatures in the Everfree.

“That implies that these gems are in such abundance, that species can utilize them for a reliable food source.” Anon said incredulously. Spike nodded.

“Yeah, Rarity also uses gems to make dresses. It’s kinda hard to stand around in her boutique sometimes. I get really hungry.” Spike pulls out a small gem from behind his ear and toss it into the air, before catching it in his mouth and chewing. Anon could hear the crunching and shattering of the gem in Spike’s mouth.

“This place is fuckin’ batshit.” Anon said, leaning back into the couch. Spike frowned at him.

“Anon, I don’t know what you said.”

“I was just saying how weird your world is.” Anon simplified, forcing himself to use that horse language. It was weird, as it comprised of a lot of whinnying and neighing like a horse, yet there was a sentence structure to it; A subject and a predicate. “Gemstones where I come from are expensive as hell and hard to obtain.”

“Really? So gems are rare where you come from?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know.” Anon admitted. “It very well could be just as abundant as here, but it’s in a jewelers best interest to make it seem as though they are rare. So, they sell for ludicrous prices. Also, gems aren’t digestible.” Spike pondered the implications of what Anon had said but realized he had too few details to understand.

“You know, you would really get along well with Twilight, Anon.” Spike grabbed the box that Anon had opened and closed it, likely with plans to reuse it. Anon let out a single “Ha!”, much to Spike’s surprise and confusion. “What is it?”

“I’m not stupid, dragon.” Anon stretched his arms, clasped his fingers and rested his head on them. “You’re trying to get me to go out into Ponyland.”

“It’s called Ponyville.” Spike huffed. “And yes, I think it’s time you actually got out and talked to somepony.”

“You sound like my mom, boyo. And news flash,” Anon leaned over and flicked Spike’s nose lightly, enough to annoy but not hurt. “My mom failed to get me to socialize with people of my species. You have a bat’s chance in hell.” Spiked rubbed his nose, glaring up at Anon.

“You can’t just stay inside for the rest of your life, Anonymous.” Spike stood on the couch cushion, putting him at eye level with Anon. Anon couldn’t help but look at Spike’s big eyes, eyes that seemed highly impractical for any species to have, given its surface area. “At some point, you’re going to run out of food, or the toilet will get clogged, or the stove might burst into flames, or-“ Anon puts a finger to Spike’s lips.

“Spike, there is a subset of people in my world who are characterized by their ability to stay indoors for the rest of their lives. It’s a lifestyle. I can manage.” Spike removes Anon’s finger.

“What if you run out of food?” Spike asks, a serious expression on his face. If Anon were a weaker man, which he is not, he’d have to admit that it was really cute. Much like a lot of things in the world, down to the grass. It had a whimsical aesthetic that would soften the hardest of hearts. Good thing was that Anon's was nonexistent.

“Then I’ll hunt.”

“What if you can’t hunt?”

“Then I’ll forage.”

“What if there’s nothing to forage?

“Then I’ll steal.”

“Anon!” Spike gasped. “You would devolve to stealing?!”

“If it was for my survival, yes. You say that like it’s a sin. You pony folk aren’t religious, are you?” Spike sighed, growing tired of this back and forth.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You don’t want to meet other ponies.”

“Correct.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“One, I don’t have to tell you shit.” Anon puts up a single finger. “Two, meeting other ponies would either result in mass hysteria knowing there’s other life out there or unified effort to kill me as I am a foreign alien who may just pass on a deadly disease they can’t stop.”

“But, I’m not sick?”

“Maybe you’re immune. You’re also a dragon.”

“I’ve noticed.” Spike sighed a little harder, growing exhausted. It was as if Anon was trying his best to be uncooperative and he was succeeding. Spike hopped off the couch and paced the floor in front of Anon. Anon merely watched the dragon pace the floor, with that not adorably serious face. Anon desperately wished his phone would turn on, just so he could record it. Maybe have it framed to mock the little guy whenever he had the audacity to stop by. Anon reached for his phone and held the power button, muttering to himself, praying that the phone miraculously turned on. Spike looked over and noticed the device.

“What kind of artifact is that?” Spike asked, taking a break from thinking.

“It’s a smartphone.” Anon replied not even looking up from the black mirror facing him. “Where I come from, it allows people to talk from long distances, access all the world’s knowledge, and play some slappin’ ass music that I don’t get to enjoy now.” Hearing this, Spike thought a little more, before a metaphorical lightbulb lit above his head.

“You know, I bet Twilight can fix it.” Spike said, with a cheeky smile. Anon responded by laughing in his face.

“Oh, little dragon. We’re living in a hamlet in the countryside. I highly fucking doubt your friend could piece together tech that took mankind hundreds of thousands of years to invent.” Anon took the time to laugh some more.

“I dunno, she is the Element of Magic.” Anon stopped laughing.

“Hol’ up, pause for the cause.” Anon threw up his hands, signaling the pause. “There’s magic in this world? What, are we talking like true name magic, equivalent exchange, alchemy?” Spike seems thrown off by the question.

“Uh, I dunno, but she does do magic.” Spike explains. “All unicorns can. But, Twilight is the best of them all. She’s lifted an Ursa Minor, fought a giant centaur, and even time traveled. I was there for the last one.” Spike made sure to emphasize that last sentence, wiping his claws on his chest and inspecting them for no real reason. Anon squints his eyes skeptically.

“And you just happen to know a pony like this?” Anon said, tilting his head upwards in a skeptical gesture.

“You’re free to call my bluff.” Spike said, doing a little bow. “You’d have to see for yourself though. Or, you can just go without your ‘smartphone’ for the rest of your life.” Spike wore a smug expression as he kept low in his bow. Anon clicked his tongue.

“Sneaky ass mothafucka’...” Anon said under his breath. Anon looked down at his phone and the accursed black mirror. He saw himself, in all his ragged glory. He looked tired, exhausted even. Bags under the eyes from inconsistent sleeping, a scraggly goatee, he even smiled to see that his teeth were caked in food debris, despite his best effort to stay hygienic. Anon desperately wished his phone screen was on so that he didn’t have to see that ugly mug.

“Ugh, fine.” Anon groaned, pocketing his phone. “I’ll go and meet this “Twilight” of yours.” Anon raised a finger. “But, it’s only to see if she can fix my phone. Then, I’m dumping your ass off, heading home, and sleeping the rest of the day away.” Anon stood up while Spike fist pumped the air. Anon went to the door and picked up his bow, slinging it over his shoulder. Spike followed suit and climbed up on to Anon’s neck, his legs falling to either side.

“Why are you bringing a bow?” Spike asked, now comfortably perched on Anon’s shoulder.

“As insurance.” Anon replied, testing the bowstring. “Why are you on my back? Quite literally actually.”

“Twilight often carries me around. Besides, you’re way taller and I like the height.”

“Jeez, dawg. How old are you?” Anon asked rhetorically, opening the door for the second time again. From the front door he could see the majority of Ponyville, especially the crystal castle that stood out like a sore thumb. “It actually looks kinda like someone throwing up the finger. How pleasant.”

“The castle is where you’ll find Twilight.” Spike informed Anon. “Now come one! Daylight’s wasting!” Spike bounced up and down like a child wanting a piggyback ride. Anon sighed, half because he couldn’t believe he was taking orders from a small, chubby, childish dragon and half because he couldn’t believe he was partially enjoying it.

Author's Note:

9 years. 9 years and I never thought once to write a fanfic. But, here we are.