Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'Stories that make themselves'.
Found 1 result
On the horizon the sun was just making its slow crawl up the sky to replace the moon as a furtive shadow made its way to the old oak doors of the library. Fumbling in his overcoat pocket with his right front hoof, he pulled out a key ring as he cycled through the keys. Finding the key that fit the lock perfectly, he turns the knob as the door opened with a light gust of wind blowing off the dark fedora-like hat that sat atop his head. He sighed, picking up the hat as he dusted it off, placing it on the coat rack along with his overcoat that sat behind the counter. He grimaced as he looked down at what he was wearing, a ghastly green plaid coat with a dull brown bow tie to boot. They just weren’t his colors. Even his cutie mark was an arrangement of musical notes that highly contrasted to his real cutie mark that hid beneath this highly crafted disguise. Everything about him was dissatisfying. He looked more like a stuffy old professor from the university or the previous temporary librarian in which the disguise was modeled, Little Wit. Had it not been for the sake of the mission he would never go through with such a loss of his personality but the orders of the Princesses was absolute. He unbuttoning the jacket and undershirt while loosening the bowtie from around his neck, casting each aside in a heap behind the counter. He opened the doors of the large black cabinet that revealed a rack of ties, white shirts, assorted vests, and other obscure items that lined the paneling. He gave a smile grin before he began dressing himself, buttoning up his shirt , fastening his auburn vest with its many pockets being filled with objects, and finally tightening the light purple tie around his neck. He whistles seeing himself in the mirror. “Canter, you handsome devil you.” There he went speaking his thought aloud again. He chuckles before noticing he’s still wearing the fake horn and patched over cutie mark that are a part of a disguise. He quickly reached for the horn as he pulled it off with a bit of difficulty. The cutie mark patch was just as difficult, pulling it off by using his teeth as his true cutie mark that of strange engraved sliver key and a keyhole surrounded by a dark purple glow became visible. Closing the cabinet swiftly and picking up all the material evidence of his disguise identity, he unlocks the door to the special collections behind him, tossing all the objects down a drop shoot that was covered by a plain cardboard box. He sighed again, closing and locking the door behind himself before siting up on his stool and placing his circular glasses on his face. It wasn’t an easy life being senior captain of Equestria’s Internal Intelligence division but it was the life best suited to him. Of course, such a double life would be exhausting to normal ponies that required sleep but he was far from you average earth pony. There was much more to Canter than met the eye. Much less he was willing to tell unless it concerned a vial need to. He only watched as the sun reached its point in the sky where early morning began, he himself writing letters of some kind overviewing the case he had been working on the previous night. He wondered who would come and converse in the library, would need help finding things, or of his assistance being required in one way or another. Though the most reoccurring thought was how long the black dye would hide his single white stripe in his mane? For he did not mind, looking a slight bit younger than he really was, if only temporarily.