>You are Anon, fresh graduate from the teaching program at Canterlot U, certified to teach high school physics, and newest hire at Canterlot High
>Today is the first day of your first school year
>You're nervous and excited
>You made sure to get up early, do that whole healthy morning routine thing people keep telling you about
>Your roommates had formed a betting pool around how long that would last
>Price is right rules
>Lowest bet is three days
>Longest is a week
>You consider stopping tomorrow to make sure that nobody wins
>Upon arrival, you get out and open the back seat of your shitty 4-door to grab your bag when you notice something odd
>You left one of your Magic decks in here
>More specifically, you left your legacy deck in here
>That shit's worth more than your car is
>As you reach to grab it and stow it in your bag for safe keeping, an angry voice calls out from behind you
>"Hey! You!"
>You respond with a strong warrior yelp and slam your head on the ceiling of your car as a demonstration of your raw power
>"What do you think you're doing, son?"
>You turn around and see what you can only describe as an action movie cop walking over to you with a serious scowl going on
>The sleeves of his police uniform seemed to ripple under the might of muscular arms, his broad strides carried him quickly and confidently to stand right in front of you, where you could clearly see your reflection in his aviator sunglasses
"Getting my bag?"
>His scowl deepens as he retrieves a note pad and begins to write on it
>"That parking space is reserved for teachers only. Violation is a $50 ticket. Move your car and have it paid by next week. Don't make it late, dirtbag."
>He tears off the ticket and shoves it at you.
>You stare at it for a moment
>Did he just call you a dirtbag?
"But I'm a teacher! I'm supposed to park here."
>"Don't feed me your half-baked lies, scum!"
>You hand him your badge
"It's not a lie. Look."
>That should solve this problem
>After inspecting it for a moment, he tears the plastic card in half and pockets both halves
>"Almost a convincing fake... almost."
"What?! Why the hell would I make a fake badge?"
>"Hey! Watch your language, scumbag!"
"You're insane!"
>"That's it! I'm taking you in. We'll see what The Chief has to say about you!"
"Am I under arrest?"
>He grabs you by the arm and begins to drag you toward the front doors
>"Clamp it, cretin!"

---a while later---
>Three minutes to the first bell
>Students start filing into your classroom
>The air is filled with yawns, talk of summertime adventures, and lamentations of a new school year
>The bell rings
>You move to the middle of the whiteboard as they take seats
"Alright boys and girls! Welcome to general physics, I'm Mr. Mous and I'll be your teacher for the year. I'm going to start with some names. Come pick up a syllabus when I call your name. If I mess up the pronunciation, please let me know."
>You start from the top of the list
"Bulk Biscepts?"
>"YEEEEEAAAAAH!"
>An enormous white mass of muscle jumps eagerly from his chair and takes a syllabus
>You try your hardest not to show your bewilderment at his enormity
>You continue down the list, trying to assign a name to each face
>Some are easier than others
>You identified a pair of troublemakers in your second hour class, Snips and Snails
>Those two ended up on your "watch these idiots" list after their incessant giggling at trying to fake having accents
>Their accents sucked
>After that, not a lot else of note happens that morning

>Fast forward to lunch time
>You're on rotation for monitoring the lunch room today
>You sit down at the teacher's table
>To your left sits a bespectacled man with a long beard who seems happy to see you
>The chemistry teacher, Mr. Al Chemist
>His parents thought they were clever
>"Hello, Anon, how's your first day going?"
"Pretty well, thanks Al. How are you?"
>"Oh, you know, teaching it up as the kids like to say."
>You briefly wonder if any child has ever said that phrase
>A hand on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts
>You're jerked to the right and come face to face with a woman who just stares at you with sunken, fearful eyes
>"This place will kill you. Run!"
"I'm not sure what..."
>Al saves you from needing to respond in full
>"Anon, why don't you get up and have a walk around the room. See where people sit, you know?"
"That's a great idea, Al. Thanks."
>You hear quiet sobbing from the woman next to you as you stand up
>Something about magic monsters
>Remedial math must be rough

>Woah! You're Anon! He's a cool guy!
>You're also wandering around the lunch room, surveying the various cliques
>Jocks, Band, Stoners, Hipsters, Nerds, the whole works.
>The nerds appear to be playing some kind of card game.
>Your autism is piqued.
>As you draw closer, you are greeted with a disgusting sight.
>Yu-Gi-Oh! cards.
>You barely contain the bile in your throat.
>It takes a special kind of degeneracy to be looked down upon by Magic: the Gathering players.
>You turn around to head back to the table and accidentally collide with a student.
>The red-headed girl falls to the ground, part of her lunch spilling out onto her over sized sweater
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
>She looks up and starts to mumble something but is cut off by a bombastic shout from your side
>"How dare you pick on Moondancer like that?!"
>The source of the shout, a wispy-haired blue girl in a matching hoodie storms over
>"Trixie will not stand by while you pick on her friend just because she's autistic!"
"I didn't-"
>"Don't lie to me, evildoer! I know the lies that your kind spread!"
>"Now now, Trixie, Mr. Mous didn't mean to bump into your friend here. I'm sure she's fine. Isn't that right Moondancer?"
>Al Chemist has saved your sorry ass twice today. What a hero, ladies and gentlemen.
>The red-head looks up and just nods at him, then begins to clean herself off as best she can
"I'm so sorry, can I get you a new lunch?"
>"Fine."
>Grumbly girl is pissed at you.
>You can't say you blame her.
>After you replace her lunch, you watch the two make their way over to a secluded corner of the lunch room and sit together
>Alone
"What's up with those two, Al?"
>He hums
>"You know I can't share that with you, Anon."
"So they're SpEd?"
>"Deductions are allowed, yes."
>You shrug off his cryptic bullshit. He could get in real trouble for telling you anything.
>You decide to eat your chicken tendies and get on with your day.

>Gasp! You're Trixie, the great and powerful.
>You've just sat down across from your bestie, Moondancer.
>You finish getting some of your food divied out onto her tray when you notice the look on her face.
>It's the look of a fellow autist who is starting to perseverate.
>Dumb old teacher, not looking where he's going, getting Moonie's favorite sweater all dirty.
>Dumb old school, having to change it's rhythm every year, adding new people and classes.
>Dumb old Trixie, making a scene in the lunch room on the first day just to make the thing all the more stressful for her.
>Everything is dumb!
>Your inner rant comes to a halt when you hear a small whimper from your friend.
>You need to redirect her before this gets out of hand.
>With the swiftness of a worried friend, you retrieve a blue deck box covered in stickers.
"Care to drown your sorrows in Magic?"
>She looks up at you with tears in her eyes.
>"D-Do we have time?"
>You throw your head back and let out a theatrical laugh.
"The great and powerful Trixie has more than enough time to cook up a spell big enough to end the likes of you!"
>She looks unamused.
>Perhaps that was not the best time to remind her of how cool you are.
>"Fine, but only EDH. I'm not going to gamble my legacy deck on how clean these tables are."
>You barely restrain yourself from reminding her that your EDH decks are also worth a hefty sum.
>Instead, you elect to simply be happy that Moondancer looks like she's doing ok.
>20 minutes of tense cardboard rectangle fights later, the bell rings.
>You are both startled by this and quickly gather your things.
>"What's your next class?"
>You think for a moment, but can't remember off the top of your head.
"Trixie will have to consult her schedule real quick... loooooks liiiiike iiiiit's... physics! With Mr. Mous."
>Moonie gasps.
>"Me too!"
>With renewed excitement you both set out into the halls, your earlier troubles forgotten.
>You were sure that today would get better.
>At least, you were until you opened the door to the classroom and Moondancer froze in her tracks.
>Him!
"You!"

>You are Anon. Last lunch is currently wrapping up.
>You're in your room, waiting for the students to arrive for 6th hour.
>Leaving 7th hour, your planning period.
>The day is almost done.
>You're feeling pretty shitty about spilling that girl's lunch, but you can't let it bother you.
>Today will be a good day. You'll just have to put it out of your mind and apologize tomorrow.
>The bell rings and students begin to filter in.
"Just sit down wherever you like, I'll go from-"
>"You!"
"Me!"
>You turn to the source of the interruption.
>Oh.
>It's the blue chick who yelled at you.
>And her friend.
>The one whose lunch you spilled.
>She doesn't look happy.
>The blue one looks like she's about to say something when her friend whispers something in her ear.
>"Are you sure?"
>More whispering.
>The other students are whispering to each other, too.
>A few in particular are gesturing at the two girls.
>"Oh... I'm sorry."
>The blue one looks ashamed of herself.
>You can't help but feel partially responsible.
>And confused.
>Maybe you should talk to them after class.
>For now, you just start by calling roll.
>At first it goes well, for a solid 5 names or so.
>Then you hit the "L's"

"Trixie Lulamoon?"
>The blue one's hand shoots up and she loudly exclaims,
>"Trixie is here!"
>You find yourself confused by this response.
"So... where is she?"
>"Where is who?"
"Where is Trixie?"
>Her face stiffens.
>A few of the other students are chuckling.
>She looks around the room as worry slowly sets into her face.
>The laughter grows slightly.
>This could get very bad, very fast.
>Time to employ your "teacher voice."
"Hey, quiet! If I wanted input from the peanut gallery, I'd ask for it."
>The laughter subsides, but it looks like the damage is done.
"I'm sorry. I misunderstood, Ms. Lulamoon."
>She responds by hiding her face in her arms, her friend starts to gently rub her back.
>Your heart sinks as you realize that you may not be able to fix this.
>None the less, you must push on.
"Moondancer Mystica?"
>The redhead puts her hand up silently, not looking away from her friend.
>The rest of the class calms down for a while.
>Roll call is finished, you get a syllabus to everybody, the contents are reviewed.
>You find yourself deeply wishing for some of that Bulk kid's enthusiasm as you finish up.
"So, are there any questions?"
>A hand goes up from some smug looking girl sitting toward the back of the room.
>That level of smug just can't lead to good things.
>You glance at the clock, 5 minutes left in class.
>You look for anybody else with a question.
>No such luck.
>You can't just not call on her for the whole thing.
>You brace yourself and gesture to her and hope for the best.
"Yes, Sweet Pea, was it?"
>"Yeah, I was just wondering... where IS Trixie, anyway?"

>You are Anon.
>Today was your first day as a full blown teacher.
>So far, you've kinda blown it.
>Two of your students have literally run out of your class.
>One of them was crying.
>The rest of your class is currently laughing their asses off.
>You, however, are standing there, stunned.
>The bell rings and the room empties out.
>Leaving you with only your thoughts.
>The problem is that your thoughts are the reason you have a problem right now.
>Which means that other people might be able to help.
>Al seemed to know what's up, but his plan period is in the morning.
>You'd like to try and get an answer before the end of the day, if possible.
>Time to bit the bullet
>You sit down at your computer, and begin to type out an email.

Dear Principal Celesta
	I've run into some issues in my 6th hour. Today, there was an incident involving Sweet Pea, Trixie Lulamoon and Moondancer Mystica. Do you have some time to talk?
Thanks,
Anon

>You decide to get some work done while you wait.
>About 10 minutes pass, before the response arrives.
>That doesn't seem like a good sign.

Anon,
	I've heard about what happened. Trixie and Moondancer are currently in my office. As your principal, I think it would be best if you came down and joined the three of us for a conversation.
Regards,
Celestia

>You briefly consider hanging yourself before you remember how creepy the vice principal is.
>You just don't want her around your corpse.
>With the decision made, you stand up, and prepare to lose your job.

>You are Anon.
>The last several years of your life have all been leading up to this, your first day on the job as a fully fledged teacher.
>In the span of less than a day, you've fucked it all up.
>You blink back tears as you make your way to Principal Celestia's office.
>It's clearly just allergies, you're way too cool and strong to want to fall on the ground and cry.
>You certainly have no intentions of huddling under the blanket with a generous portion of Grandpa Incog's special vodka and crying yourself to sleep when you get home.
>That would be weird and depressing.
>You arrive at the front office and take a brief moment to compose yourself before you meet your fate.
>Ms. Secratariat, a large middle aged woman, greets you from behind the counter.
>"Hey there, Celestia's waiting in her office. It's right over there."
"Thanks."
>Entering the office, you see Celestia sitting behind her desk with Moondancer and Trixie sitting before her.
>Trixie's eyes and cheeks are red.
>Moondancer is gently petting Trixie's hair.
>"Would you be okay with heading back to your class while I have a little chat with Mr. Mous?"
>Trixie responds, her breath still hitching.
>"O-okay."
>"Thank you girls, Ms. Secretariat will write you a pass."
>Trixe nods and the two stand up to leave.
>Before walking out, she sniffles and looks at Celestia.
>"Thank you, a-auntie."

>Once the two of you are alone, Celestia lets out a heavy sigh and gestures to one of the chairs before her.
>You sit down and try to figure out what to say to her.
>You muster all of your rhetorical skills, you know that your next words could mean the difference between you having a job tomorrow and not.
>You need to provide a rational and well thought out explanation for today's incident if you are to survive.
"Please don't fire me! I tried to stop it but I was caught off guard and I'm so sorry about your niece I promise I can fix it!"
>She raises a finger to stop you.
>"Anon, calm down. You're hyperventilating. I'm not going to fire you."
"You aren't?"
>"Of course not. I actually owe you an apology."
>Nigga, what?
>"When they came in to talk to me, I realized that you had not been included on the emails to distribute IEP information about your students. The emails had gone out before your district address had been created and getting those over to you had just fallen through the cracks. I'm sorry."
>Her words fill you with a mixture of joy and relief.
>You're so happy you could kiss her.
>No! Bad Anon! She's your boss! You take those feelings and shove them into the same pit that you shoved your attraction to your Educational Analytics professor.
>Wait, Celestia's still waiting for you to respond, say something helpful!
"I'm glad I'm not fired."
>I guess there was an attempt.
>"I'll get those sent to you right now, please try to review them tonight. If you have any issues, please feel free to let me know."
"Thank you so much, Celestia."
>With that you stroll out of her office, basking in the warmth of job security.
>You decide to get a jump on reading those IEPs.

>You are Moondancer and you are worried
>Trixie has been silent ever since you left her aunt's office.
>Not that you're surprised by that.
>She always clammed up right after she broke down, but that didn't make it feel less wrong.
>Her brazen ability to just say what she wanted to say was one of her best qualities.
>You found it fascinating, how she could be so different from you and still be diagnosed with the same thing.
>Aspergers.
>Such an odd word.
>It was easy fodder for the idiots to make fun of you two with.
>Your thoughts are interrupted as Trixie grabs your arm, tight.
>Looking around, you see why.
>Sweet Pea is walking the opposite direction, note in hand.
>Obviously in trouble for what she'd done to Trixie earlier.
>As she walks by, she gives Trixie a coy wink.
>The bitch is pleased with herself.
>Anger starts to boil up inside of you.
>You want to scream.
>You want to break something.
>You want to make some 'wrath' t-shirts and-
>"Trixie will be okay, Moondancer."
>You turn to her and see a worried look on her face.
>All of your anger melts away when you look at her.
>"We can't let her get to us. We have to stay focused if we're going to do well at the Commander league tonight!"
>She raises her fist in the air with the most obviously forced bravado you've seen in quite some time.
>You giggle at her and her smile becomes a bit more genuine.
>At least she's getting closer to her usual self, even if it's mostly just pretend.

>You are Trixie Lulamoon and today just... it just sucked.
>Of course, it sucked because you managed to screw it up pretty damn hard.
>How could you let yourself break down in front of the whole class like that?
>It's not as if you've been seeing a psychologist to prevent that sort of thing for the last 8 years.
>You glance over to Moonie, and you feel a familiar comfort.
>At least the day is almost over.
>Tonight will be better.
>Nothing can salvage an evening quite like a bunch of Magic with a friend.
>Especially when you get to savage a bunch of casuals together.
>Your mood brightens considerably at the thought.
>Because of the fact that everybody will be starting at zero points, odds are good that you'll be paired with a bunch of casuals at first. There could be almost anything there.
>There could even be a cute boy there!
>No. Not now, libido. You shut up!
>What else is there to think about? You're not going to be able to figure out anything about the meta until after tonight.
>No excuses! I am in class! You can come out later tonight, after Moonie goes home.
>It's only natural to have desires.
>Shut up!
>But I'm only here to talk about how you want a cute boy to-DIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGG-
"Gah!"
>Everybody stands and makes their way to the door.
>Guess school's out then.
>You and Moondancer make your way to the front office.
>As you get closer, your excitement builds.
>You still get to have this, it's going to be fun.
>You're gonna have dinner with your mom and your best friend, then you get to have a great night and then your day will be saved.
>It's all gonna be great.
>When you two finally arrive Ms. Secretariat ushers you two over.
>"Hey there, dearie. Your mom had to take a phone call dearie, some important business."
>The woman hands you $40.
>"She said that the two of you were free to walk over to any of the places nearby and grab some food while you wait. It should only be an hour or two."

>You are Anon and you've been at work entirely too long today.
>School ended like 3 hours ago, but you still had more reading to do.
>On the upside, you feel pretty well prepared for the year now that you know your IEP students and stuff.
>On the downside, it's like 6:30 and you're bored.
>You know what that means children!
>Time to go the fuck home!
>You pack up your shit and head toward the front of the school.
>Making your way there, you hear some chatter from the lunch room.
>You decide to investigate.
>It wouldn't take a genius to figure out who you found.
>They're hanging around and seem to be playing a card game.
>Huh, that's cute.
>Moondancer quietly does her thing and puts some cards on the table, you can't quite make out what it was.
>Trixie's reaction, though, you can hear...
>"Nope! Foce of will! Trixie cannot allow such a spell to resolve!"
>Hold the fucking phone!
>They're playing fucking Magic?
>You sense an opportunity to make amends for earlier today.
>With any luck, it will make them feel better in your class.
>You head over there.
"You guys play Magic?"
>They both seem a bit startled.
>In hindsight, you might have wanted to not be so abrupt.

>Trixie recovers first and eyes you with suspicion.
>"Why does it matter to you?"
>Fair play, can't say you're too surprised that she doesn't really trust you after what happened today.
"Well, it just so happens that I've been playing for over fifteen years, now."
>Trixie's eyes light up.
>"Really?! I mean-ahem-that's neat... I guess."
"Before we get into that, though, I wanted to apologize for everything that went wrong today. I feel bad about having added to a rough day. I have a few decks on me, if you guys want to I'd like to start over. We could ring in the new beginning with some rousing games of EDH."
>Trixe puts a hand to her chin and looks you up and down, she has what you think is supposed to be an appraising look on her face.
>"Hmmm... Trixie doesn't knowwww..."
>She makes a show of walking around you and thoroughly examining you.
>"What do you think Moondancer? Is he cool enough to hang out with us?"
>Moondancer appears confused.
>"Trixie, we've spent the last two and a half hours alone in the school cafeteria playing Magic: the Gathering. You'd be hard pressed to find people who aren't."
>Trixie deflates a bit.
>"Fine. But we need to finish this game first."
>Moondancer clears her throat a bit and shows her the cards in her hand.
>Trixie wordlessly begins to pick up her cards and shuffle her deck.
"That bad, eh?"
>Trixie grumbles something as Moondancer giggles a bit.
>You chuckle a bit as you sit down and retrieve your boxes.
>Pulling out two boxes, you silently weigh your options as to which deck to play.
>You could go with Prossh, your fast tryhard combo deck that wins on turn 3 or 4 consistently enough to have some of the regulars at the store you play at refuse to play against it.
>Or you could play Omnath, Locus of Mana, a deck you built so that people who got salty at not being able to afford the power that you could would have something to play against.
>Normally, this would be an easy choice, two high-schoolers who have had a rough day? Give them a chance with Omnath.
>But you heard Trixie shouting about her Force of Will earlier.
>Looking at their commanders, you notice that this table could be just about anything.
>Trixie is playing Narset, Enlightened Master... meaning she could be doing anything from playing a bad burn deck to taking infinite turns after turn 3.
>Moondancer's commander is just as ominous. Kess, Dissident Mage currently heads up one of the highest tier decks in the format.
>You decide to play it safe, though and just use your weaker deck.
>No sense in making this worse for yourself, right?

>The realization of just how bad you'd fucked up came around turn 3 of that game.
>Trixie slapped Narset on the board, gave her haste, then proceeded to take 12 turns in a row.
>Basking in the glory of her solo show.
>It was kind of adorable, to be honest.
>Needless to say, when your opponent manages to take 15 turns before you take your 4th, you tend to lose games of Magic.
>On to game two!
>This one took quite a bit longer, Moondancer countered Narset the first 2 times Trixie tried to cast her.
>That gave her all the time she needed to get a splinter twin combo going and kill all of us with infinite creatures.
>Again, you contributed very little to the game.
>After that game, Trixie looks at you, clearly frustrated.
>"Mr. Mous, are you going easy on us?"
>Moondancer cuts in before you get a chance to speak.
>"Trixie, don't be mad. He's probably just a casual player."
>Oh hell no!
>Papa didn't raise no casual here.
"Girl, what you got commin'."
>You reach into your bag and get the big man himself.
"Maybe we'll have a real game now, ladies."
>Trixie grins haughtily at you.
>"We shall see."
>The three of you shuffled up.
>"Why don't you be on the play, Mr. Mous?"
>You look at your hand.
>Mana crypt, mana vault, sol ring, forest, food chain, eternal scourge, Purphoros God of the Forge.
>You proceed to kill them both on the first turn of the game.
"Am I cool yet, ladies?"
>Moondancer speaks up this time.
>"Rematch, there's no way that's consistent."
>You laugh and start shuffling again.

>A few games later, the three of you are chatting it up like old friends.
>Trixie seems far less hostile than she was earlier and Moondancer is talking a lot more.
>"Hey, Mr. Mous."
"What's up, Trixie?"
>"What's your first name?"
"I don't have one. They make you give up your first name as part of teacher certifications."
>She rolls her eyes.
>"Seriously, Trixie would like to know."
"I'm being serious, they said that if a student gets your first name their power over you will be unquestionable. This way, there is no name to take!"
>"Come oooooooonnnnnnn."
"Alright, alright, it's Anon."
>She chuckles a bit.
>"Your name is Anon Mous?"
>Moondancer chimes in.
>"All you need is the middle initial 'Y.'"
>You cringe a bit.
>Do you really want this to be out there for your students to know?
>They do seem pretty cool.
>Ah, fuck it.
"Yancey."
>Trixie gasps.
>"No way. That's a lie, you're lying!"
"I'm afraid not."
>"You can't be serious."
"My parents thought they were the funniest people."
>Trixie is on the ground, her sides are making their way into orbit.
>It ain't me starts playing as you have flashbacks to middle school.
"It's not even that funny!"
>You turn to Moondancer, who is obviously trying to hold back laughter.
"It's not that funny is it?!"
>Moondancer breaks down into a giggle fit under your gaze.
>"It's pretty-hehe-funny-hahaha-"
>Even as a teacher, you managed to get laughed at by all the kids in school.
>Yours truly is a pathetic existence.

>You are Anon, and you've been sitting there, watching a pair of your students laugh at you for what feels like AT LEAST a month now.
>Which is odd, because you've only been here for a minute or two.
>Maybe you've stumbled across some new form of shame-based time dilation.
>Is that why furries refuse to die?
>Are they harnessing enough shame to transcend time?
>Would such a wretched existence be worth it?
>You decide that you'll ponder that question in the future.
>For now, you decide that you've been ridiculed enough.
"It's all fun and games until you remember I get to grade your tests."
>The two little autists yelp and try to stifle their laughter.
>They fail, but at least they tried.
>"Mr. Mous, are you threatening my daughter?"
>You freeze and turn around.
>You are met with the cold, unfeeling eyes of Vice Principal Luna.
>She does not look amused.
>"Mom!"
>Trixie jumps up and runs right into her, hugging her mother very tight.
>Luna returns the hug with a serene smile.
"Awww."
>Her eyes open and you are once again receiving a death-glare.
>"Mr. Mous, I'd like an explanation of what you were thinking just now. Especially in light of events from earlier today."
>Come on brain! You've gotta bail me out here, buddy.
>Just tell her exactly this: We were only joking Vice Principal. It was in the context of them laughing at my name in a good natured, friendly manner.
"Uhhhh... I mean..."
>You are a failure and you deserve anything she does to you.
>"Ms. Luna, we were only joking around. Trixie and I had been making fun of his name a bit and I think it was a playful jab."
>Moondancer coming in for the top-tier assist.
>"I see. Just try not to say such things to your students. Parents tend not to care for it."
"Y-Yes Ma'am."
>Luna turns her attention back to Trixie.
>"I'm so sorry I was late, dear. Is it too late to go to that tournament you wanted to go to?"
>Trixie reaches into her pocket but Moondancer answers faster.
>"It started about an hour ago, sign ups are probably over."
>Luna's face falls a bit.
>"Oh... I'm sorry, dear."
>Something about her body language tells you that this is a somewhat regular occurrence.
>Trixie hugs her mom a bit tighter, clearly a bit distraught.
>Suddenly, she gasps and jumps away from her mother.
>"A club!"
"A wha?"
>"We could make a school club! It would be for Magic! Mr. Mous plays Magic! He could be the sponsor!"
>Trixie is looking excited.
>Moondancer grins and nods her head.
"Not sure about that policy, don't we need more students to sign up?"
>Luna nods her head.
>"You need at least ten students to sign up and one teacher to sponsor."
>"Please, Mr. Mous? Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?"
>Trixie sure is playing this up hard.
"Well, sure. I don't see why not."
>Trixie runs over and hugs Moondancer.
>"Did you hear that, Moonie? We get to start a club! Trixie's perfect super-plan for becoming a socially adjusted human is truly taking off!"
>"Don't we have to ask strangers to join our club?"
>She stops for a moment and thinks.
>"Well, Trixie never said it was a perfect plan!"

>You are Moondancer and you aren't buying it.
>While you can't read the body language of most people, Trixie can't hide her feelings from you.
>She can act as confident as she wants, but she's clearly upset about her mom working late... again.
>It's so obvious, just look at her hands!
>The tip of her thumb is tapping each other finger on the same hand in order starting with the index finger.
>She's had that same stim behavior ever since she started seeing that psychologist like nine years ago.
>It isn't even that subtle!
>Looking to the adults, you Luna explaining something to Mr. Mous about some kind of meeting or whatever.
>You swallow back your frustrations.
>It may be a couple minutes and your best friend is in obvious need of some help.
>You gently place your hand on Trixie's lower back and her finger movements begin to slow down, just like they always do.
>"Thanks, Moonie." She whispers.
>She knows she doesn't need to thank you.
>You stand there for a few moments, the warmth of her back radiating into your hand.
>Having finished her short discussion with Mr. Mous, Luna turns back to the two of you.
>"Ready to go girls?"
>Trixie nods, her forced smile still plastered across her face.
"Yeah, sure."
>Mr. Mous waves you two goodbye.
>"Later, ladies. We'll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?"
>You feel Trixie slightly tense at that.

>Seeing as the two of you would only have an hour and a half or so to hang out at this point, it was agreed that it would be easier if you just went home now.
>It is a school night after all.
>Luna promised to make it up to both of you.
>You assure her that it's fine.
>As the three of you turn onto your street, you notice an extra car in your driveway.
>Getting closer, you notice that it's a shiny red convertible.
>You sigh, of course she planned her date for while you were gone.
>Luna pulls up to the curb a couple houses before yours and eyes you in the rear view mirror.
>"Moondancer, if you're not comfortable-"
"I'm fine. It'll be okay."
>You're not fine, and it probably won't be okay.
>Right now, though, you really just wanted to lie down and scream into your pillow until you fell asleep.
>The car slowly pulls forward to your house.
>Trixie puts a hand on your shoulder before you get out of the car.
>"If you need to talk, Trixie is always here for you."
>The two of you embrace for a few moments.
>But, all too soon, you're left standing on your driveway with a deep sense of dread.

>You take a few moments to put your 'mask' on.
>Years of practice take over as your face slips into a false look of neutrality.
>You've found that if you let people see how upset you are, it will just lead to questions of "oh, are you alright?" and "what's wrong?"
>Then you have to deal with explaining things to them and half the time it's somebody who you don't know too well talking, which only makes things worse.
>Seriously, why the hell would talking to some random dipshit about what's wrong do anything helpful?
>They all say the same things anyway!
>'I'm sorry.'
>'It'll get better.'
>'You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out.'
>They don't even think about it! They just say it!
>Then they just go back to whatever it is they were doing!
>Like throwing a few played out words at you is going to make everything okay!
>You check your reflection on the screen of your phone.
>The calm Moondancer you wish you could be looks back at you.
>That's as ready as you'll get.

>It's times like these that make you wish that you weren't still Moondancer.
>Walking up to your front door felt like a march to your own execution.
>Death by confronting your lonely mother's desperation.
>Once you're at the door, you can hear the muffled voice of your mother on the other side.
>Followed by the laughter of a voice you've never heard.
>Just get through this, Moondancer, you only need to get to your room and you're free.
>You push the door open and are immediately greeted with the image of your foury-nine year old mother, dressed in a blouse with far more cleavage than you're at all comfortable with, curled up in the arms of a similarly middle-aged man with a goatee and leather jacket.
>"Ah! Sweetie! You scared me. Is it already ten?"
"No. Some things came up and I had to head home early."
>"Oh... A call might have been helpful."
"Phone died."
>"Oh... well..."
>The guy stands up and offers his hand to you.
>You don't really pay much attention to that part though, seeing as his pants are doing a remarkably poor job of concealing a boner.
>"You must be Moondancer, I've heard a lot about you from your mother. I'm Richard, it's nice to meet you."
>Remember, Moondancer, keep it monosyllabic.
"Hey."
>"So... how was school?"
"Fine."
>"Any hobbies?"
"Some."
>The conversation dies off a bit.
>Three rounds and he's already out?
>Maybe he just knows when to cut his losses.
>You hear your mother clear her throat from behind him.
>No, not like this.
>The conversation was over!
>I could have walked away!
>Now she'll start grilling me and it'll take forever!
>Just as she's about to ask her question, as if by divine intervention, your phone rings.
"Sorry."
>You check who it is.
>Trixie's giant smile beams at you like a guardian angel.
"I'm gonna take this."
>You make your way to your bedroom before answering the call.
"Oh my god."
>"Did somebody order a timely escape from a conversation she'd rather not have?"
"How did you know?"
>"Trixie has her ways."
"You're the best."
>"Was there ever any doubt?"

>A few hours later, you're enjoying some... "private time" when you hear a knock at your door accompanied by your mother's voice.
>"Sweetie, can I come in?"
>You quickly scramble into a sleeping position.
"Sure."
>She comes in and sits on the end of your bed.
>An awkward silence falls for a few moments.
>You have to say something to get her out of here!
"Where did you meet September?"
>"Septem- Moondancer! His name is Richard and he is very sweet!"
>You feel a small pang of guilt.
"Sorry."
>"We met on a dating site."
"Alright."
>Silence falls once more.
>"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."
"Mom, I-"
>"Sweetie, I've raised you for 16 years. I can tell when you're forcing your face into position."
"Oh."
>"I know it's awkward, but you have to understand that you're growing up and one day, you're going to move out."
>You can feel how moist you were.
>It makes you feel a bit ill.
>"When that happens, I'll be all alone."
>Oh god, is your mom about to start whining at you about how she can't get laid?
>"Back when I was still pregnant with you, and your father got decapitated in that horrible water slide accident, I felt so alone. That loneliness drove me to some dark places. Anger, depression, vengeance. Then you were born, and I had somebody to be with. I could just watch you play with your father's card collection and imagine how proud he would be. Once you're gone, though, I don't want to go back to being alone."
>She's sobbing now.
>You have no idea what to do.
>She leans down and hugs you tight.
>Why is this your life?

>You are Anon, kick-ass teacher who can do anything.
>At least if your mother is to be believed.
>She also thought it was funny to name you Anon Yancey Mous.
>Best not to dwell on these things, though.
>Why?
>Because you're at work extra special early to talk with Celestia about getting this Magic club started up.
>Normally it would be entirely left to the students to get people signed up, but you figured that maybe the two of them could use a little help in approaching others to join.
>You had a few ideas.
>A sign on your classroom door.
>A sign on the wall somewhere.
>Most of your ideas were to put a sign on something.
>You excitedly explained this to your boss before realizing that you had very little in the way of a thought out plan.
"So, that's about it. Luna seemed to think it was a good idea, and I'm totally on board to be the sponsor."
>She looks a bit hesitant.
>"Well... I'm certainly not against the idea."
"Something tells me you're not exactly for it either."
>"It's just that you're a new teacher. That's a lot of extra work to take on in your first year. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
>You are entirely unsure if you're fit for this task.
"I'm sure it'll be fine! I'm not worried. It only needs ten kids. I handle at least twenty in every one of my classes."
>She thinks for a moment then nods.
>"Alright, just keep in mind that if you need a hand, you can try to get one of your colleagues to cosponsor with you."
>That actually makes you feel a bit better.
"Alright, thanks Celestia. I'm going to go print a few copies of the sign."
>"Before you go, Anon."
"Yeah?"
>"I think I know somebody who could help you three out."
"Sweet. That would be a huge help."
>"I'll have her meet with you and the girls during lunch today."
"Thanks again."
>"Of course, Anon."

>Fourty-five minutes, one ms-paint session, and four copier jams later, the sign is complete and scotch taped to your door.
>Checking the time, you notice that it's almost time for the first bell.
>Today was the first day of real instruction and that can mean only one thing!
>Kinematics!
>Students have already started filing into the classroom.
>After a few moments, the bell rings and you're up in front of the board.
>Teach-mode engaged.
"Good morning children! Is everybody ready for some physics?"
>Bulk replies with a loud "yeah!" that startles the rest of the class awake.
>It's a bit awkward, but it can't hurt to try and build off that enthusiasm to get everyone going.
"Good man, Bulk! Let's get started, then."
>He beams a bit at your praise.
"Alright, let's say that I hang a target from the ceiling and I need to shoot it with a crossbow. However, there is a mechanism attached to the crossbow that makes the target drop from the ceiling the instant I fire. Do I aim at above or below the target, if I want to hit it?"
>A couple hands go up, Bulk's is among them.
>You decide to give somebody else a shot.
>You gesture to one of the students.
"Let's see, Piper, right?"
>"Yeah. I'd shoot below it."
"While most people would say that, they'd be incorrect. Let's talk about our velocity and break it down into what are called 'component vectors.' That'll help us see why you aim AT the target."
>And with that, the class had begun.
>Fifty minutes later, you'd finished explaining some basic vector math, given them the equation sheet for the class and assigned them a packet of problems to turn in by the test in two weeks.
>The bell rang and most of the students were up and out of their seats for passing period.
>As you were clearing the board for next class, somebody tapped you on the shoulder.
"Oh, hey Bulk, great job in class today. You really seem to have a head for the kinematics."
>As he opens his mouth to speak, you brace yourself for a point blank shout.
>"Mr. Mous, I saw the sign on your door. I was wondering if you had any details about the Magic club?"
>That's not shouting.
>That's not shouting at all.
>That's a normal talking voice.
>A normal talking voice that asked about your club.
>From Bulk Biceps.
"You play Magic?"
>He grins.
>"I love it! My uncle taught me how to play when I was a kid, the only problem is that he lives out in Manehattan and I don't really know anybody else that plays."
>That's actually kind of adorable... in a sweaty musclebound way.
"Well we've got two other people that were interested in getting the club started, you'll be the third. They'll have the sign-ups, so I'll send them your way when I seem them."
>"YEAH!"
>There's that ear-shattering shout you were looking for.
>You see his mouth moving, but you can't hear him over the ringing in your ears.
>Based on his gestures, you assume he's trying to excuse himself.
"Have a good day. I'll see you tomorrow."
>He looks at you, slightly confused, shrugs, then heads off.
>Well, with any luck your hearing will return by next hour.

>You're Trixie, the True Blue Wonder!
>When you woke up this morning, you were actually pretty excited about getting the ball rolling on making your club a reality.
>It would be a simple 3 step process:
>1. Find 8 people that were both interested in magic and weren't intolerable to be around.
>2. Convince them to write their names.
>3. Have them show up at the determined time after school for a first meeting.
>BAM! You now have your very own Magic the Gathering Club!
>Incredible! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Juh9chU7SII
>Mom seemed pretty excited about it, too.
>Standard parent things like "meeting new people" and "creating something that others can enjoy."
>She did have some concerns, of course.
>The ride to school was full of little warnings:
>"Trixie, make sure you aren't just shouting at people."
>"I know you're excited, but people will probably be more likely to join if you speak to them in a reasonable volume."
>So on and so on.
>In fairness, you did tend to lose volume control when you got too excited about something.
>Once you arrived, you rushed into the office to get your sign-up form.
>Aunt Celestia even said that she knew somebody who might be able to help you out with finding people!
>You were going to meet with her at lunch.
>Everything was set up perfectly.
>You'd have all the names you needed by lunch time.

>When lunch time finally rolls around, you're a bit discouraged.
>You hadn't managed to convince a single person to join.
>Maybe you'll feel better after a lunch with your best friend.
>It took a couple minutes to get through the lunch line, but the tendies are worth the wait.
>Moondancer's already sitting at the table.
>Sitting across from her, you try not to let your frustration show.
>"So... how many?"
>You grumble a bit in response.
>"That bad?"
>You sigh.
"I still can't get anybody."
>"Really? Nobody?"
"Really! Trixie doesn't understand! How is it this hard to get people to sign up?"
>"Well..."
"Well what?"
>"Don't be mad at me."
"Moondancer! Trixie sees you as a sister and could never be mad at you!"
>She fidgets a little bit as she asks you.
>"When you asked them to join... were you... shouting... at them?"
"Of course not! Trixie would never!"
>"It's just that-"
>"Hey girls!"
>You both freeze at the interruption.
>Mr. Mous is standing at the table, and behind him is one of the largest people you've ever seen.
>Your jaw hangs open a bit at just how huge this guy is.
>Moondancer mutters something about the russian skies.
>Mr. Mous gestures to the two of you.
>"Bulk, these are Trixie and Moondancer. They're the ones that are starting that club. Just toss your name on the list and we'll let you know from there."
>Bulk smiles and gives a thumbs up.
>"Sweet! Thanks, Mr. Mous!"
>Turning to the two of you he extends a hand.
>"I'm Bulk, you guys don't mind if I join your club, right?"
>Regaining your composure, you shake your head.
"Of course not! We would never turn down a willing member, right Moondancer?"
>Moondancer nods rapidly.
>Whips a pen out of his pocket, you offer him the form and he signs it.
>"Thanks guys, I'll see you around."
"Y-you too!"