> Toolkit: An Autobiograpy
>  by Toolkit
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> My story
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimer: The main character is an Original Character by me. I I take no credit for the Characters of My Little Pony: Frineship is Magic.



Toolkit: an Autobiography
By Alexander K. Blueprint

My name is Alexander, but you can just call me Toolkit if you’d like. I am a unicorn pony, with a white coat, violet eyes, and a deep blue mane and tail, from Manehattan, age of twenty-one. This is the story of my past, and how I ended up in Ponyville. First you should know that I am a builder. I own my own contracting business in Ponyville, helping out with construction jobs around town. This is the first I’ve ever talked about my past. So, without further ado, let us begin.

My story isn’t the happiest, nor do I take pride in my youth. I was born May 6, 1993 to Cedric and Nani Blueprint. Life was good the first three years, then, tragedy struck. My mother became extremely ill, and the doctors could do nothing to save her. After a week, her pain and misery finally ended. As you could guess, I was heart-broken. All I had now was my father, whom I barely saw because of his job at the construction site. I tried to hide my sorrow in daycare, but every now and again, I would lose myself to the misery that I had bottled up in side. The other foals called me a crybaby because I could not explain why I was so sad. I began to just fall away from the world, in my own little corner, away from everypony else, so they couldn’t call me names. There was nopony I could call ‘friend’.

Without my mother, I had to grow up very quickly. I was acting years beyond my age, even as a little foal in magic kindergarten. The other foals still made fun of me because I didn’t play like everypony else. Instead I spent my time reading about and testing new spells. The other foals called me a bookworm, while the teachers were impressed at my skill, though they did try to get me to play with the other ponies, to which I always refused. I felt that I was too old to play, even though there was still that happy-go-luck colt deep down inside of me that I just couldn’t reach. I was thought that I was too far gone to ever go back.

All throughout school, until freshman year, I stayed as far from the other ponies as I could. I was afraid that if I tried to socialize, I would be rejected. I was a nice colt and was told by many a mare that I was very cute, but that didn’t change me any. I still kept to myself and rarely talked. I was the colt that sat alone at lunch because I chose to. It led to even more social rejection. I was called emo and goth, to which I never responded, I just took my emotions and put them in a bottle in my mind. I would vent my emotions alone in my room before my father came home. When I was in fourth grade, I took an interest in fixing things. I had noticed a few warped floor boards. My father kept saying that he would fix them, but I decided to take it upon myself. When my father came home, the first thing he noticed was that the floor didn’t dip and rise. When he asked me about it, I told him I had fixed the floor, as well as the leaky faucet, and the shorted wire in my room. My father said something he had never said before. He said, “I’m proud of you.” It was then that I had earned my cutie mark.  My father was the number one contractor in Manehattan, and he was proud of me. I started to feel better about myself. That is, until the accident. When I was in eighth grade, my father was working on a particularly large building. He was on the fourth floor, when he lost his balance, and fell. His hard hat fell off and he landed head first on an iron beam. He died instantly. I vowed never to lift a tool ever again.  After that, I was moved in with my only known relatives, Grandpa Jonathan and Grandma Betty.

When High school rolled around, I was so emotionally unstable that I got into a lot of trouble. I was disruptive, inconsiderate, and violent. I served Detention more times than I care to count and eventually was expelled. I never made it to my junior year. I was never invited to a dance. I was the meanest one on my block. Did I care? Not at all. I felt free; felt like I could what I wanted, when I wanted. That was when I joined the ‘Neigh-Sayers’, Manehattan’s most dangerous gang. 

The gang consisted of five Earth ponies, a Pegasus, and me. The Earth ponies, Skull, Crank, Killer, Stamps, and Big JZ, the leader, were the muscle, while the Pegasus, Eagle Eye, served as the scout. Since I was the only Unicorn, I was made to learn an array of dangerous spells, such as incineration and electrocution. Soon, I was the most dangerous Unicorn in Manehattan, which earned me my gang name, Danger Zone. My first assignment was a robbery. I used my electrical magic to short out the alarm and perimeter cameras. It was smooth sailing from there, and that was just part one. I would go on to partake in more dangerous crimes later on, and you know what? I had fun, despite a tiny nagging in my mind that something was wrong. 

This was most apparent about a year ago, when Eagle Eye spotted a potential victim, a teenage, blue earth pony. I watched in dismay as the gang cornered the helpless mare, demanding her money. When she refused, they beat her nearly to death, then suddenly stopped, and faced me. “Finish the job,” said Big JZ. “It’s about time you earned your keep.” I walked up to the terrified pony, wracking my brain about what to do. I couldn’t just kill her, I had to help. I knew what I needed to do. I lowered my head touched my hoof the frightened pony, and *zap*, we arrived at the hospital. Now if I had a bit for each look of surprise, well, let’s just say that I would be set for a while. The shock quickly turned into fear, as the nurses and visitors noticed my headband. It was a black bandana, with skull and crossbones, with NS across its forehead. This was the symbol of the Neigh-Sayers. I removed the headband and turned it to ash, then I went home, packed my bags, and left.

I had no idea where I was going, or what I would do when I got there. I just had to get out of Manehattan. So I traveled by day, and rested wherever I could find a place. Sometimes I would just sleep outside, other times; I would find a kindly soul who would let me stay the night in a guestroom. Nevertheless, I was always off first thing in the morning, after politely thanking my hosts. I had to keep going; get as far could from my past.

One day I was trotting along when I noticed an orange pony with a blonde mane and ranch hat. She looked like a strong mare, but she was exhausted, and was struggling to move several large pieces of lumber. “Let me help you with that,” I said, as I used magic to lift the heavy burden off of the mares back. “Thank ya’ll kindly,” she said. “I was about fixin’ ta give up an’ try again tomorrow. Name’s Applejack,” said the earth pony. I knew I had arrived at my destination. “I’m Alexander. I’m new in town and need a place to stay until I can raise a home.” “Well, ya’ll are welcome ta stay at Sweet Apple Acres if ya would like,” responded Applejack. “Thank you,” I said.

That was two years ago. I realize and admit my mistakes, and have many friends. Now I’m the colt to go to if you need something fixed, or if you just want to have a nice talk. That is my story, and I appreciate every minute of it.