Floor needed bits, and she needed them fast. No normal job could get them in time. No, only a more... illegal one.

"Put the bits in the bag!" Floor yells through the scrunched up hole in her hoodie, only her eyes peeking through. Humans would comment that she looks like Kenny from SouthPark.

The mare behind the counter fearfully keeps one hoof up while moving the other to open the register, until she sees what she's being held up with. "Wait, are those... panties?"

"Don't make me use them, either! Just give me the money!"

The mare raises a brow. "What the buck are you thinking? I'm not going to-erk!" Floor thrusts the underwear into the mare's face, and the smell hits her like a brick. "Oh Gawd! Have you ever washed those!?"

"No, I haven't, so unless you want a serious case of pink eye, I suggest you get to filling this bag with bits."

"Okay, okay, I'm doing it, just... keep those away from me!"

"That's right... fill 'er up. Easy now, no pony needs to get hurt today." As the mare clumsily fills the empty, family-sized bag of Horseritos, Floor hears a scurrying sound, and turns just in time to see a patron make a dash for the door.

As soon as he got out, he would no doubt start screaming for help, calling the guards straight to her. That couldn't happen.

With archer precision, Floor spins around and pulls the elastic of her panties, sending them flying through the air at high-speed. They land, draping themselves over the stallion's muzzle, and he instantly freezes, face turning green

As his eyes roll up in his head and he collapses, Floor turns back to the cashier while riffling through her hoodie pocket In the next second, she's holding her backup pair of underwear "I didn't tell you to stop."

Floor shuts the door to her apartment and sighs, pulling her sweater's hood back to reveal her sweaty face "Phew, I'm glad to be home," she says to the empty room, contemplating taking a nap. She'd earned it after going out and getting rent money, after all.

It's the next month. Floor's streaming channel didn't rake in nearly enough bits for rent. She wasn't like NeighJa who brought in half a mil a month by playing building-sim shooters. And so, she needs to go out once more and rob some motherbuckers.

This is how Anon finds himself being threatened with a pair of dirty underwear at 4AM. Goddammit, he just landed this job a week ago, and now he's getting robbed by some Kenny-impersonator.

"I said put all the bits in the bag, ape! Do I have to use sign language!?"

"Can you even use sign language with hooves?"

She's taken aback for a second, then narrows her eyes. "Sh-shut up! Keep flapping your gums, and I'll have to gag you with these!"

"Go ahead," Anon counters, leaning on the counter to look blankly at the would-be robber. "Maybe I'd like it."

Even through the puckered hoodie, Anon can see the mare's eyes go wide and the bit of exposed face turn red. "E-enough games, already! Just give me the bits or else!"

"Mmm, nah," Anon decides, standing straight. "This convenience store doesn't do good business as it is. If I give you all of the night's earnings, it'll probably go out of business, and then I'm back to looking for a job. Money's tight after rent gouges my ass."

"Tell me about it..." Floor mumbles before shaking her head. "That's not my problem, this is your last warning, colt."

Anon opens his arms wide. "I'm waiting."

With a growl, Floor stretches the band of her panties, and lets them fly. Before they reach the human's face, however, a hand shoots up and snatches them out of the air. Floor watches, shocked as the brave cashier turns the panties over in his hands, then brings them up to his face. Her jaw drops as he takes an experimental sniff.

"Phew, that is pungent," he comments, side-eyeing the mare and giving a little smirk. "... But not bad."

Floor has no control as her tail flags and she feels herself give a wink. "Wha-wha-what?"

"Tell you what," Anon continues. "I get off in an hour. How 'bout you wait outside for me, and we'll have a little... talk."

"Wh-what?"

"I'll hold onto these until then," he goes on, holding the underwear up again. "If you want them back, you'll have to stick around. If you don't, you can leave. I wouldn't mind keeping them." Floor feels herself drip onto the worn tiles, and Anon frowns a little. "Do you mind not doing that?" he asks, directing his eyes at the growing puddle. "I have to mop up any spills."

Absently, Floor moves towards the door and steps outside. She turns around and looks through the glass, seeing the human watching her. When she plops down, he smiles wide and gives a thumbs-up. Floor's brain is fried, overwhelmed by what has just happened.

Faintly, she hears part of her mind tell her to make a run for it, but the rest of her psyche, the horny parts, keeps her rump stuck to the sidewalk. This guy might be crazy, but so is she, apparently.

Anon cleans the mess made by the robber mare and goes back to watching the store. No one comes during the the next hour though, except for his boss, who's now starting his own shift. "Hey, Anon," he greets gruffly, gesturing his head towards the door. "You know what's with the mare sitting out there?"

"An acquaintance," Anon answers, stepping around the counter. "She's just waiting for me to get off."

"Hmm," the stallion grunts, taking Anon's place. "Well, tell her not to, from now on. It's creepy, her just sitting there, staring off into space. She'll scare away customers."

"Will do, boss," Anon acknowledges. "Well, have fun." The stallion grunts again and opens a magazine. Reading was about all one could do at this hour. Sometimes, Anon wondered why the place was even 24/7. Could make it 16/7 and cut out a shift. Preferably none of his, but it'd help labor costs if done at these dead hours.

It wasn't his business, so he left without another word, stopping to stare down at the mare. "Well," he starts, gesturing out before him while his other hand slips into his pocket. "Ready to go, little robber mare."

"Uh, S-sure."

Anon smiles lightly. For being a hardened criminal, she has a surprisingly cute voice and demeanor, all flustered like this. Anon starts walking down the sidewalk, and the mare follows quietly behind him until they reach a bus stop. As Anon slides into the seat, he looks over to see the mare nervously shuffling in place.

"Come on," he says, patting the empty spot next to him. "Take a seat. Bus always runs a at least ten minutes late around here." She gulps audibly, but does as she's told, climbing up on the bench and sitting ramrod straight. Anon looks forward for a several seconds, then pulls his hand from his pocket. "Here," he says, holding out her panties pinched between his pointer and middle finger. "You can have these back."

She snatches them quickly and stuffs them into the front pocket of her hoodie. "Thanks," she mumbles, muffled by her hoodie and barely understandable. "Panties are super expensive."

"Maybe you shouldn't use them as weaponry then," Anon muses. "And maybe you should pull that hood off. It's kinda rude when I can barely hear you." She shoots him a look full of distrust, and he holds his hands up in innocents. "Come on, now, afraid if I see your face, that I'll turn you into the authorities?" She narrows her eyes, and he rolls his. "Really? And you think I'd be going through all of this for, what? Shits and giggles?"

When her expression doesn't change, Anon sighs and gives her a serious look. "Listen, robber mare, if I wanted you arrested, you'd be already, because I would have stomped your shit in back at the store then kept you under heel until the police arrived." Her eyes widen and she begins to scoot away. "But," he continues. "I didn't do that, because I'm a very good judge of character, and know you didn't really want to hurt me. I've been held up before, little robber mare, and by far worse things and people."

Suddenly, he reaches up and pulls the collar of his shirt down, revealing a diamond-shaped patch of scar tissue in the dip of his collarbone "This, for instance, was from when I had a switch blade forced six inches into my flesh. Guy thought I gave him a funny look while he was taking my wallet." She stares, and Anon can tell her mouth is slightly agape. He smiles again. "So, would you please take the hood off? I trust you, after all, despite prior experience with would-be robbers, so I'm sure you can return the favor, yes?"

It takes several seconds, but finally, slowly, she pulls the hood down to reveal a pale face and shaggy black mane. Anon's smile widens. "That's much better!" he proclaims. "Now I won't have to strain my ears to hear you."

"Whatever," Floor mumbles, looking away despite the blush on her cheeks.

"Ah, like chiming bells," comments the human. "You have a beautiful voice, little robber mare."

"I- I do?" she asks, surprised as she looks at him.

"Very," he assures. "And a cute face to boot."

She sputters at that, face crimson. "That's not true," she manages, a small frown coming to her lips. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in, like, a week."

"Which explains why you look like an adorable little racoon." Her response is yet another surprised look as Anon nods. "Yes, that must be your spirit animal. You know some other names for the critters are bandits, which considering your profession, is fitting, and trash pandas, which, well..."

"Yeah, I get it," the mare grumbles, trying to look angry. "I smell, right?"

"Your weapon of choice was a dirty pair of underwear."

"What do you want?" she snaps. "Just to make fun of me? Is this your way of getting me back for trying to rob you?"

"What do I want?" Anon echoes, leaning back to place a hand on his chin contemplatively. "Hmm, I suppose I want your story."

She snorts. "What? Like, you want to hear about my life?"

Anon mulls her words over, then nods. "Yes, that should do."

Floor is taken aback. "Oh, ah... why?"

"Curiosity," he answers. "Like I said, I'm a very good judge of character, so I'm wondering why such a sweet little mare is out holding up convenience stores before dawn." Floor blushes at being called sweet, but is cut off from saying anything as Anon speaks up. "The bus is coming. So, where do you live? Nearby, or will we be getting on?"

"What? You want to go to my place?" she questions.

"Duh. I might trust you, little robber mare, but you are still a robber mare. I can't take you to my place just yet... Maybe the second date."

Floor sputters again, getting the human to chuckle. "Y-you're crazy," she manages once she catches her breath.

"I prefer eccentric," he responds, still smiling. "So, bus or walking?"

"Bus," she answers, despite her burning face. "It'd take half an hour on hoof."

"Perhaps a leisurely stroll would be more... romantic."

The mare clenches her jaw and actually slaps Anon in the side. "Stop that. It's not funny."

"And I'm not a comedian," Anon responds as he rubs his side. "But if you're going to be like that, than the bus it is." Just then, the old, rust-spotted transport sputters to a stop, and the two climb on and move to the back. Once they're seated, neither speaks until the bus lurches forward. "My name's Anonymous, by the way, though my friend's call me Anon," the human says nonchalantly. "Nonny to my... special friends."

"Are you some sort of perv?" the pony accuses.

"Says the mare who dripped lubricant on a convenience store floor," Anon quips.

"Sh-shut up!"

"But you're so cute when you're flustered."

"I said shut up," she growls, whipping out her panties threateningly.

"Oh, gonna let me have another sniff?"

"Guh! You're impossible!"

"I'm actually pretty easy."

The mare shoves her muzzle into the neck of her shirt to muffle her scream of frustration as Anon puts his hands behind his head and smiles. "So, you know my name now. Want to return the favor?" he asks once she's done with her mini meltdown.

She glares at him, but grumbles, "It's Floor Bored."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you have a problem with that?"

"No," Anon says. "I was just thinking it would be something more... colorful. Most pony names are, like my boss. A gruff and tough stallion named Sugar Crash."

"That's a perfectly normal name," Floor comments with a raised brow. "And so is mine."

Anon tilts his head in a short nod. "I'm sure it is. Maybe I just don't have an ear for them yet, your pony names."

Floor grunts and looks forward, and the two fall silent once more. In a few minutes, the mare tells Anon that they've reached their stop, and the two depart, walking a block.

"This it?" Anon asks, looking up at the building Floor has lead him to with a curious expression. "You really live here?"

"Yeah, it's on the second floor," she answers.

"Lucky, mine is on the eighth."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Anon says, gesturing her forward. "Lead the way." She narrows her eyes a moment, but shrugs it off, moving up the steps. As they enter, she turns to the left and is about to mention the elevator doesn't work, but the human doesn't even glance at the things before moving towards the staircase. It niggles something at the back of her mind, but she shakes it off. It's probably nothing.

After a flight of stairs, Floor shows her odd companion to her door, and leads him inside. Anon looks over the living room/kitchen area appraisingly. "Just like mine, but more grimy," he comments.

"Hey, I clean," Floor defends.

"But do you mop and vacuum?" Anon interrogates, looking down at her. "You pick up after yourself, but I see crumbs and spills everywhere."

"No pony asked you," she grumbles. "It's fine. Besides, vacuums are expensive."

"Maybe I'll let you borrow mine, if you ask nicely," Anon offers.

"Yeah, like you're going to carry a vacuum all the way here," Floor says with a snort.

"Eh, taking it back up would be the hard part."

"What?"

"Nothing," he says with that infuriating smirk Floor is coming to despise. "Shall we sit on the couch?"

"Fine," she grumbles, moving towards the old, lumpy thing. "Better not be expecting an offer of snacks and refreshments, though."

"Something tells me it'd be instant ramen and soda."

"I have chips, too."

"Oh, of course. My bad," Anon says, not sounding sorry at all as he follows. Floor resists snapping at him and takes a seat on the side of the couch with the large spring poking through. She may not be a great host, but she can at least do this much to be cordial. Her mom would be proud.

Anon plops down with a sigh and stretches his arms across the back of the couch. "Phew, I am wiped," he says. "Usually I just go straight to bed after work."

"You still could have," Floor responds. "I didn't make you come here."

"Yes, but I wouldn't have been able to get a wink of sleep with thoughts of you bouncing around in my head," Anon explains. Despite how agitating this strange creature has shown himself to be, Floor still blushes. She's always had a bit of an attraction towards the exotic, as her search history could prove, but she never thought it'd get her into this bizarre mess of a situation. Really, how did she let her clit talk her into this?

"So, you've been a robber for long?" Anon asks, getting the mare's attention. "You seemed pretty confident back at the store."

"Just a few months," she answers, deciding it's pointless to lie when she's already told Anon her name and showed him where she lives. "Yours was the third store."

"You don't say?" Anon says. "Well, Floor, I must say, you are a natural then."

"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment," mumbles the mare.

"I'd prefer you didn't take it as one," Anon says, giving her a surprisingly serious look. "Stealing is bad, after all."

Floor felt her heart sink, but hid the feeling behind a scowl. "I didn't ask you. I don't need your approval." And dammit all, she didn't so she doesn't know why she had wanted just that for a second.

"Well, technically speaking, I could still turn you in after tonight," Anon points out. "So convincing me not to should be pretty high on your priority list."

"M-maybe I'll just tie you up here so you can't squeal," Floor counters with no confidence.

Anon smiles that stupid, sexy smile again. "I doubt you can tie a knot that I can't untie, but if you want to give it a try, I'm willing to let you... Just no whips. At least not yet."

"Why do you keep saying stuff like that!" Floor snaps, face burning. "You barely know me, and you're saying all these l-lewd things."

Anon frowns slightly. "Does it really bother you that much."

"Um, s-sorta?" she answers hesitantly. "No pony likes being made fun of."

"I wasn't trying to-" Anon starts, but sighs instead. "Sorry. I'll try to tone it down."

Floor hums in acknowledgment, and begins twiddling with the hem of her hoodie. She starts talking after ten seconds of silence. "I've been having money problems, lately."

"Excuse me?"

She looks up for a moment, but can't meet his eyes and drops them back to her lap. "You wanted to know my story, or whatever. Well, that's kind of the reason I've been robbing convenience stores."

"You don't have a job?"

"I did," she answers. "I was a letter sorter at the post office. Easy enough job, decent pay. Really, I was amazed they even hired me on account of... well, my blank flank, but I guess there's been some stuff Princess Celestia has been doing to help the handicapped get hired in." She chuckles dryly. "Co-workers made sure to remind me, saying stuff like how some retarded pegasus delivers mail, and how I'm just like her."

"They sound like assholes."

"But they were right," Floor admits, shoulder slumping. "I saved up and was finally able to get a decent computer. It took almost a year, but it was worth it... for awhile. I started streaming to bring in some extra bits... and staying up all night. Heh, turns out it's hard to read those tiny addresses on only three hours of sleep. I made one too many mistakes and got canned after a couple months."

"And you haven't been able to get another job?" hazards Anon.

"The first one was lucky enough," she says with a sigh. "I looked a little, but I guess I kinda hoped I could go full time on the streaming thing."

"Which, judging by the robberies, hasn't been the case."

Floor tries to straighten her shoulders. "I've been doing good, though. I mean, my viewership has grown pretty big in a short amount of time. I make a nice amount in donations, too. Enough to cover utility bills and some food-"

"But not rent."

Her feeble attempt at holding her head high crumbles. "No... not enough to cover that."

"Well, can't say I have much pity," Anon comments, getting the mare to look at him. "Not getting enough sleep was a pretty simple matter to see too if it was causing trouble at work. Plus not searching hard for a new job. I understand gaming and streaming may be a passion, but food and housing tend to be more important ones. Oh, and of course resorting to a life of crime-"

"Okay, I get it!" Floor snaps. "I'm an idiot! Is that what you want to hear me say?"

Anon smiles. "Admitting you have a problem is the first step of recovery."

"You know I can kick you out, right?" she grumbles, crossing her hooves petulantly. "Sorry we can't all be perfect."

"Oh, I'm not perfect," Anon says easily. "Before I came to Equestria, I was far from it. Part of the whole reason I came in fact was to start over. A clean slate, as they say."

"Really?" Floor asks, quirking a brow. "What, were you stealing cans and bottles from the return room and cashing them in yourself?"

"I was a male escort, actually," he answers without batting an eyelash.

Floor gapes. "A- a male escort?"

"Yes, though some would wrongfully say a male prostitute. It wasn't just about sex for the clients; they wanted companionship. Dinner dates, shows, long discussions about their interests... and then sex." Floor is lost for words, only managing a small gurgle in the back of her throat, so Anon continues, giving a small sigh. "It's not as if I didn't enjoy my job or anything like that- I was actually quite good at it- but it's not a profession one can call home about. My mother never knew, and I didn't tell her. The guilt of that after she passed never left. At least, not while I was still an escort. I came to Equestria to become what my mother always thought I was."

You..." the mare finally managed. "You had sex for money?"

Anon stares blankly at her. "You really zero in on the most important details, don't you?"

"I'm sorry," she says, giving her head a shake. "It's just, I wasn't expecting that... Does explain the flirting, though."

"Old habits die hard," Anon informs. Even with the revelation fresh in her mind, Floor still chuckles, and the human joins in. "So, I know your story, and you know mind-"

"I don't actually know why you're working in a crummy convenience store, yet," Floor interrupts, and Anon nods.

"I suppose you're right, though there's no riveting tale to be told there. I haven't been in Equestria long, only about four months now, and I've mostly been focused on getting settled in. Right now I'm trying to save money as a sort of start up fund while I work out what I want to do."

"That's you're plan?" Floor asks skeptically. "Like, you don't have any specifics worked out...? Don't know why you were making fun of me, then."

Anon frowns. "Point taken, but ouch. We can't all aspire to be a successful game streamer."

"That's not gonna happen now, anyway," Floor mumbles. "Rents due tomorrow and I'm still a hundred bits short."

"Only a hundred?"

"You make it sound like I can find that between the couch cushions," Floor says dryly, only for Anon to absently reach into the cushions between them.

A second later, his expression brightens, and he pulls out a single bit. "Will you look at that."

"Gimme that! It's mine!" Floor declares snatching her bit from the human's paws. Only ninety-nine to go.

"I was going to give it to you," Anon says flexing his fingers to assure they aren't broken. "It was in your couch, after all."

Floor sniffs and puts the bit in her hoodie pocket to be nestled alongside her panties. Safe. "A likely story."

"I mean it," Anon assures, looking a bit miffed. "You know, being accusatory towards the one person willing to help you is not a very sound decision."

Floor tilts her head and looks at the human. "What do you mean, help?"

"Well, more mutually beneficial, really, but you'll benefit more."

"You have a habit of talking too much," Floor notes. "What are you getting at?"

"That we become roommates," Anon answers simply, getting the mare to sputter.

"R-roommates! Are you nuts?! We just met!"

"Ah, but I'm a very good judge of character, remember," answers Anon, holding up a finger. "I think we can manage, plus it would mean we could split the bills."

"Why would you even want this?" Floor nearly yells.

"Because as of right now, I only have twenty bits at most leftover after paying the bills each month," he explains. "Not exactly flooding the savings account. If I bunk with you, however, that will mean more bits leftover to save, which can only be a good thing. Besides, I'm quite done living paycheck to paycheck."

Floor's jaw is hanging low. How could this guy be so cavalier about such a monumental decision? "But we only have one day to get things settled-"

"I just live upstairs. If we rush, we can probably have everything moved in by tonight," Anon mentions. "I simply won't pay rent when the landlord comes around and tell him I'm moving in with you."

"Wait, you live upstairs?" Floor asks, being hit with even more surprising information. Her brain was liable to shutdown at this rate.

Anon nods. "Yes, a fact I'm frankly surprised you didn't know. It was fairly big news within the building when I first moved in, what with me being human and all."

Blinking, Floor scrounges her memories, and comes across a faded one from four months ago. "That's right..." she mumbles. "That was you?"

"Mhmm." Anon nods. "It isn't hard to believe you don't listen to gossip. Probably don't even hear much of it, shut-in as you are."

Floor could have argued against being a shut-in, but then she'd be a liar, and after the robberies, her karma couldn't suffer another blow. Instead, Floor asks, "I still don't get why you'd want to move in with me. I mean, there has to be other ponies looking for roommates that aren't- aren't-"

"Lazy slobs?" Anon supplies, getting a glower. "Kidding, kidding, you're only an idle mess."

"My point being," she grits out. "Is that there are better options for you, aren't there?"

"For my benefit personally? Probably," he admits, expression becoming serious again. "But I wouldn't be stopping future robberies if I moved in with them."

"That's why?" she asks. "You want to keep an eye on me?"

"I won't really have to," he explains with a shrug. "Your criminal endeavors are fueled by your financial problems; I stop the cause and the effect can't follow."

"Oh..." is all she manages. Tonight has turned out so strange that she honestly doesn't know what to do. After a minute, she decides the first step should be to give an answer. "If you're serious about this, and really want to help, then... yes. I wouldn't mind having a roommate." Tapping her hooves together, she adds more quietly, "I don't like robbing convenience stores..."

"Which is good to hear," says Anon, smiling widely and slapping her on the shoulder. "I'll go get my things right now. You going to help? We can start with the vacuum."

Despite the crazy night and crazier outcome, Floor smiles at the strange man. Maybe things are finally looking up for the NEET?

Author's Notes:

The ChangeNEET

Floor is an anorexic changeling who is living off of only ambient love in the area, like the newly wed couple in the apartment next to her who have sex obnoxiously loud each night. her room is next to theirs and she can hear their bed banging against their shared wall. Floor weeps silently because she's a monster who can never deserve such love and passion to be directed at her.

Not after what she did.

She was a nymph when she found the little lost filly on death's door. The pony said she ran away because her mom grounded her for doing bad in school, but now she wanted to go home. It was winter and she was clearly sick, too delirious to even realize she was talking to a little bug pony. The changeling did not help though, they merely hovered, skimming the filly's mind of memories while waiting for her to pass.

And when she did, the changeling took her form.

She went to the filly's home and bawled into the worried mother's embrace, saying how she was sorry and would never do it again. The changeling smiled, face hidden in the crook of the mother's neck, absorbing the thick love radiating from the mare. And so the changeling lived the good life, draining the single mother day after day, causing her to become listless.

Even addled, however, she loved and cared for what she thought was her daughter, and the changeling began to feel guilt. Such a sweet mare didn't deserve to be tricked so cruelly, and the new Floor contemplated coming clean. She might have, too, had the mare not wandered into the street one day, mind foggy and unaware of the heavy traffic.

The little changeling was responsible for two innocent lives being lost, and that was when she new it was true. Changelings- she- was a monster, but still too cowardice to do right by the world and just die. She lived on the fringe of society, scraping by on scraps of love and pity, thinking this would be her life forever.

Until the invasion, and the subsequent hunt for her species

---

Shining is agitated, pacing the room just outside of the interrogation cell. He looks through the one way glass, and fights to keep the sneer off of his face. The changeling sits, almost looking dejected despite its disguise being torn away to reveal the hideous visage underneath.

It can't be dejected, of course. Sadness is an equine emotion beyond these monstrous puppets.

Still, he sees other things, as well. It's thinner then what he remembers of the other changelings he's seen. Emaciated, his mind supplies. He's still surprised by the circumstances they found it in.

After the invasion, they got plenty of calls from concerned citizens fearing their neighbors were secretly bugs in disguise. Most were a waste of time, but the guard responded to each call to be safe and to put the citizens' minds at ease. He thought this would be one of those calls when he checked the details of the suspect in question.

A loner. No family or friends. Spent most of her time indoors. The couple next to her insisted, however, calling her creepy. And perhaps she was, but someone such as Floor Bored was certainly not an ideal target for a love sucker to replace. They'd starve.

That'd explain the thinness, though. Thing must be an idiot. When they had come into the apartment, she did not fight when they asked if they could cast the revealing spell. She only nodded solemnly, then went quietly when they held her at spear point.

Shining had demanded where the real Floor Bored was, and the creature answered in nearly a whisper. "Fair Weather Park," it had said. "Near the middle... she should still be buried under the largest oak tree."

That had chilled the hearts of every pony present, and Shining sent out a party to check the creature's claim. He half hoped, half feared they'd find the mare buried alive. As horrible as it would be, at least she'd live. If not, then they had a murderer on their hooves.

Judging by the haunted looks on the faces of the retrieval team when they returned, that was probably the case. "Did you find her?" Shining asks, thinking he already knows the answer.

The lead guard shakes his head. "We found... some pony," he began. "We aren't sure who... certainly not the mare, Floor Bored, however."

Shining raises a brow. "Condition?"

The guard looks away. "Deceased... Captain, it was a foal."

Shining Armor goes deathly still. "What?"

"It was a shallow grave," the stallion across from him starts to explain. "Barely a few hooves deep. By the Goddess, I can't believe they weren't found sooner. You'd think an animal or something..." he trails off, looking lost for a second before shaking his head. "Judging by the decay, they've been their for a while. Not much flesh left, mostly bone. On sight examination didn't show any obvious cause of death, no breaks at least. Coroners might be able to learn more."

"Why wait," Shining grit out. "We can find out all the details right now." Then he enters the interrogation room, the slam of the door causing the changeling to flinch. "What are you playing at?" the white stallion growls. "Why did you send us to the foal you murdered, and where is Floor Bored?"

She looks up, and despite being insectoid, Shining can see guilt and sorrow clear in those green orbs. "Don't you understand, Captain? That foal is the real Floor Bored... I killed her eleven years ago."

Shining steps back as if struck. "You... you killed a little filly, and took her place for eleven years...?"

"Yes."

"You're a monster."

"I'm a changeling."

"Is there a difference?"

Floor looks away with a sad smile. "No... there isn't."

Shining had to leave the room then. If he didn't, he'd kill her. The guards heard everything, and were waiting for their leader to tell them what to do. One asks, "Does- did Floor Bored have any family? Any pony we should contact?"

"No," Shining breathes. "Her mother died ten... years ago." Shining's head whips back towards the glass, gritting his teeth. "That... that evil, despicable-"

"Captain?"

"Floor Bored's mother died one year after this... thing killed and replaced her daughter," Shining says with barely contained hatred.

It takes all of his considerable willpower not to march in their and end things now, court-martial be damned. Judging by the dawning realization, and fury on his guards' faces, they agree.

"You think it... killed the mother, too?" one asks.

"Probably," another spat. "If these beasts can feed on sympathy or pity, then what better way to eat then to be an orphaned foal?"

"Why maintain the ruse, though? Surely the disguise has lost any advantage now. Floor Bored is known as a recluse, yes?"

"Probably to spite the ponies it killed. Insult to injury to ruin the little one's image after taking her life," another muses. "Now any who knew the real Floor Bored think she grew to be a failure."

"Enough," Shining commands. "I want this thing in a cell, the coldest, dampest one in the dungeons. I'm going to go speak with the princesses." The guards salute and make to follow their orders as Shining leaves the room.

If they happen to rough up the changeling a little more than necessary while dragging it away, well, he doesn't notice at all.

---

Floor Bored, or maybe not since she is no longer disguised, has stopped trying to walk on her own. She was capable, and perfectly willing as not to be difficult for the guards, but they have proven that they prefer things difficult.

If she walks on her own, they can't yank hard on her limbs or "accidentally" drop her with a bit too much force onto the ground. She doesn't mind though, her chitin absorbs most of the blows, and she deserves it besides.

No, she'll just use the time to think of how she should refer to herself now that she's no longer Floor Bored. It's embarrassing, but she no longer remembers her changeling name after eleven years of living a lie.

Killer, maybe? No, too on the nose. Buggy? Too generic. She racks her head for something suitably disgusting to represent both her nature as a monster and her being a changeling.

It's not until after she reaches her cell that she comes up with something that works. Flea. They're tiny, insignificant things that, at the best of times, are hated by the world as a nuisance, yet, are still deceptively lethal. After all, was it not the fleas that spread the diseases that plagued ponies so long ago?

What better name for a changeling like her? She's almost proud of her naming skills, but doesn't exactly have anyone to tell when she's tossed roughly into a cell, skidding face first on the cold, hard stone before settling in a sprawled position.

While she tries to regain her bearings and push through the pain in her jaw, she can hear the door slam with a clang behind her and the ponies speaking.

"Listen, private, this here is a changeling, and a dangerous one at that. It's your job to make sure it stays in its cell, got it?"

"O-of course, sir."

"Good, just remember, no matter what it says, no matter what form it takes, it's a monster, so don't fall for any of its tricks."

"You can count on me, sir!"

"I trust you, Private Anonymous. By keeping her here, you'll be keeping her from hurting any more ponies."

"I'm happy to serve!"

"At ease. We'll no doubt be returning in a few hours in regards to what will be done with the prisoner. Hold out until then."

Flea struggles to her hooves and turns around, seeing the retreating form of the large guards who had dragged her here through the small, barred opening on the door. Just to the side, she can make out the light green coat and black mane of who must be the guard left to watch her.

She shivers from the cold and almost feels bad for the pony. She has no intention, or even ability to escape, so there's not much reason for the poor stallion to have to suffer down here alongside her.

"Sorry you're stuck here guarding me, Mr. Private Anonymous," she breathes in her reedy voice, getting the stallion to jolt. She doesn't blame him. Her own voice bothers her after going so long without hearing it.

"E-excuse me?" he asks, looking back through the bars, allowing the changeling to see one of his bright green eyes.

"It's cold..." she answers, looking around absently as she takes a seat. "And creepy. I'm sorry you have to deal with that because I'm down here."

"Oh..." he says, looking unsure. "It's, uh, it's fine."

He looks forward again, and the room falls silent. Flea looks to the cot in the corner of the dank, dark room, and thinks about crawling over to it, but the dull aches and pains ebbing through her body zaps any motivation she has to move. The floor is probably just as comfortable as the lumpy "bed" anyway.

On the other side of the room is a small water pump jutting out of stone floor the with a wooden bucket sitting next to it. Perhaps it's meant as a bathing station as well as a water source for the prisoners?

Licking her dry lips, she's curios to try it out, but again, lifting a leg to step towards it sends a twinge of pain up through her shoulder, and she stops. Setting it down gently, she resigns herself to suffering her thirst a bit longer before subjecting herself to the pain brought on by movement.

She coughs lightly due to the dryness of her throat, and the stallion whips his gaze back towards her. "What was that?" he asks. "You say something?"

"No," she answers truthfully. "Just coughed. My throat's dry."

"Oh, well, you can drink water from that pump."

"I figured. Just sort of... really sore right now," she explains absently. "Guess I'm hoping it'll go away if I don't move for a while."

"You're in pain?" he asks with a hint of urgency. "Should I go get a doctor?"

Flea blinks at the stallion, surprised when she feels a thread of concern directed at her from him, before shaking her head lightly. "No, it's fine. The guards were just a little rough when they brought me here, but it's nothing serious."

He narrows his eyes in confusion. "They... hurt you?"

"Nothing I didn't deserve," she says in way of assurance. It doesn't work, however, as the concern only grows stronger.

"They shouldn't have. It's not Equestria's way to harm prisoners, no matter the crime."

Flea feels her heart clench, and she can't bear to look the obviously kind stallion in the eye. "I don't think you'd be saying that if you knew what I did," she whispers.

"Yes I would," he asserts with steel in his voice. "It's not Equestria's way, and it's certainly not the place of us guards to dole out punishments how we see fit. It's the Princesses, whom I'll have a talk with later about this."

"You don't have to," Flea say suddenly, standing despite her protesting joints. "Please, I don't want those ponies to be punished because of me."

"They'll most likely only be reprimanded," he says, clearly confused, but the changeling shakes her head.

"Still, I... I've caused enough trouble... I don't want to cause anymore."

He stares at her, shocked, but eventually sighs. "Fine, if you really feel that strongly about it, I won't tell Princess Celestia."

Flea smiles with relief. "Thank you,"

"It's fine," he mumbles, and the room goes silent once more.

Already in her standing position, Flea decides to push through the pain and walk over to get a drink of water. The pump takes a while to get going, but when it does, Flea drinks eagerly from the crystal clear water.

In truth, the normally refreshing coolness of it would usually be welcome, and does sooth her parched throat, but once it settles in her stomach, she finds herself feeling even colder.

The cot, and more importantly, the threadbare blanket atop it, becomes far more welcoming, and Flea forces herself across the cell to cover her shivering form.

Sitting on the hard mattress, the changeling tries to rub warmth into her body while letting the silence reign on.

"It's just Private Anonymous, by the way," the guard says out of nowhere after a few minutes.

"Um, what?" Flea asks.

"Earlier, you called me Mr. Private Anonymous. You don't nee the mister part," he explains.

"Oh..."

"And besides, private is a rank, not part of my name, so you wouldn't include it in Mr. Anonymous."

"Sorry, I didn't realize-"

"It's fine," he cuts off, still looking forward. "It's not wrong to not know things, as long as you're willing to learn."

Flea smiles slightly at the strange stallion and nods. "Right, thank you for clearing that up, Mr. Anonymous. I've learned something new."

"That's good. We should always be striving to learn and improve ourselves," he says seriously, but she notices his head turn slightly towards her and his lip curl up a fraction.

Flea's smile grows a little larger in response, until she senses a small pulse of positive emotion directed at her from the stallion. It's not love, or even friendship, just a small spark of affection, but it's still directed at her, a foal murdering monster, so she quickly closes herself off, both in her body language and magically.

As she curls in on herself more tightly, Anonymous frowns, but shakes his head and looks determinedly straight ahead again.

The affection fades, and Flea relaxes some. She's... not glad to be rid of the positive emotion exactly, and her stomach is none to happy with her decision, but she knows that she doesn't deserve to feed.

Doesn't deserve the faintest of positivity to be directed towards her.

Not a changeling.

---

... Phew, it's been a while. Sorry to all you readers hoping for an update to the main story, but I already had these written out months ago and finally decided to store them here.
Hopefully you get some joy out of them, I'm personally a big fan of the second one, even though it's not in the spotlight spot.
You know, as Exxie's art here shows, I'm not the only one who writes random stories about Floor and Anon...

(There was actually a picture of Floor from the first story mid-robbery, but I couldn't find it)