The Regulator

by BurningMockingJay

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Other, Second Person, Random
Length: 1218

A regulator is a being that brings justice to wrongdoers. This regulator is one who doesn't decide in justice but rather in the fate of others by keeping them from harm.

It never is easy to cope with loss and feel forgotten. For The Regulator, it is just like that.

Take a read to discover how and why The Regulator became what he is and what drove him to become it.
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Teen for themes

Published 2015-10-25 22:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-25 22:30:02 UTC

Hero In Hellfire - The Regulator

Author's Note

Firstly, I'm trying this as a change from Crusader and heartache stories and second, I truly do not care of the outcome of this as I just had this idea and my attention to detail couldn't be any worse. :twilightblush:

Hero In Hellfire - The Regulator

The smell of smoke and fire filled my nostrils, dozens of red and white candles scattered around the stone room and illuminating it in a dim orange light, giving the entire room a somewhat vampiric appearance to it with all the gothic architecture that the main theme of the room was based on.

It wasn't much, but it is my home. Or at the very least, what I consider as my home seeing as it is far away from anypony else.

The room was mainly constructed of stone and white marble, well aged and showing very noticeable variations of decay with all the cracks and scuffs to their surfaces. Clearly, the last owners of this place before it was abandoned took good care of it all.

The architecture wasn't the only thing that remained, though. So did all the furniture, if not a little dusty and dated. There was a desk at the far back and shoved closely against the wall, a small bookshelf that stood as high as twice and a half my height with some old books still being held on its shelves, all as dusty as the last and still intact.

In front of me was a mirror built into the desk and beside that was a small picture of one of the only good memories that I had in my life.

It was of three ponies together, two stallions - one of them being me and the other being a close friend - and a mare. I was hugging the other stallion with my left hoof over his back and my other over the mare's back as we all had grins plastered on our lips.

The stallion, called Crimson Star, was one of my colleagues and his coat was white while his eyes and mane were a deep red in colour. The mare on my right was called Blossom Fire. Her coat was a rich charcoal colour and her mane was two tone purple and dark violet whilst her eyes were a lighter variation of that colour.

My mane was black and messy and my coat was white and my eyes were red. We were all wearing uniform in that picture - the trademark pieces of clothing that a firepony is known for. The colour of all our clothing was the standard soft yellow with a matching hat that held our names on a metal plate.

I would always smile when I laid eyes on it but that smile would always become a frown when I would look into the mirror, seeing what I've become.

My once pristine and well kempt coat was charred and slightly blackened, matching the colour of my mane that was thankfully still there. As for my eyes, they were still as bright as they used to be. The only thing wrong with them was the fact that after the damage they suffered, they would frequently hurt and disable some of my ability to hurt, with thanks to the soot I got in them all those years ago.

I was currently wrapping fresh bandages around my wounds to keep the air from hitting them and causing me to grit my teeth in pain, which always happened when I had to take off the old bandages to replace them with new and clean ones.

The cold air of the house I was currently occupying would always manage to touch all the burned and charred parts of my body and it always made me cringe in pain, reminding me of how it felt when I first got them.

Finally having them wrapped securely around the majority of my body but my face, I turned to my right and looked down at my old fire helmet.

It wasn't yellow anymore, now being turned into a black colour with the protective materials of the item to protect its user all cracked and slowly ageing every day, becoming weaker. My name was still on it, faded slightly from damage from fire but there, more or less. It read 'Fire Storm'.

As for the rest of my outfit, well...it wasn't exactly what it used to be. It too was charred black from fire damage and I took it upon myself to fix it up with a skill I picked up over my years of abandoning myself from others and resigning here to become somepony else.

The whole exterior of my firesuit was layered in metal plates, all coloured black and freshly polished. They covered all of the body and even the tail-hole to encase my whole tail in a protective metal sheathe. The plates crossed over the breast of the suit and formed a heavy protective layer of metal thickness that wouldn't be so easily breached.

The side plates were just as thick, sleek and shiny as the rest of the armor that now made up my suit. Even my boots were made from metal. As for a helmet, I found the time I had to make a new one, one that will reflect the purpose of the suit.

Based on my fire helmet, the brim was designed to have the exact same appearance and the entire construction of the item was metal. I also made it so that it would cover my whole head by making it longer all around the sides by use of various methods of engineering that would cover up my mane and muzzle completely, encasing my identity along with it.

The best part about my helmet was the eyes. To reflect my own eye colour, I used stained glass to give them a fiery red look. When I wasn't even wearing it, their vibrant colour made it seem like it was actually alive and that sounded stupid that it was an inanimate item, incapable of feeling, hurting or living.

I slowly placed my suit on, clasping down all the straps and buckles that guaranteed my safety before I took the helmet in my armored hooves, slowly lowering it onto my head. It sat comfortably around my whole head and my vision turned red through the eye pieces that I built into it.

It served as a physical memory, reminding me of who I used to be. The identity I lost when I was nearly burned to death, along with Blossom Fire who unfortunately and tragically died in the fire trying to save me, despite me telling her to leave me. She was stubborn like that. Loyal and stubborn.

Losing her didn't help seeing as I loved her. With her being gone and me being granted another chance at life, I dedicated it to saving those who can't help themselves. It was the least I could do in memory of her.

I turned around, about to leave before I blew out the candles, enveloping the room in a darkness that was only pierced by the dim light from the red lenses in the helmet that glowed demonically in the dark.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have so regulating to do.