"FUCK YOU!" yelled the siren. "How the fuck do you even get a chandelier in Tartarus?"

"I've already told you, you have to earn manifestation credits and to get them you have to work," replied the alicorn, frustration written on her face. Not even ten minutes passed before the two inmates started to bicker again. However, instead of being on the basis of who was a 'gothic cumbucket', it revolved around the knowledge Adagio had—or lack thereof—about the ethereal prison.

"So what, I clean some dishes and I can get a gun?"

"No, you egotistical cretin. You can only manifest decorations and crap," said Nightmare Moon, strangling Adagio mentally to ease her oncoming rage. "And it's not like you could get all of this in just one day," she said, accentuating her point with a wave of her arm. "It took me decades to make this."

"That's a bit too trustful of them, don't you think?" Adagio stood in the center of the cell, staring up at the chandelier while initiating deep thought. "…What if I 'manifest' a iron file? I could just saw my way through. Even if I didn't, I could hide it, and use it as a weapon when I need it."

Nightmare Moon sighed, before picking up a burnt out candle and tossing it towards the cell entrance. Once the candle passed the bars however, instead of being greeted with freedom from the hell hole, inspiring all of candle-kind with such an astounding feat, it was met with a barrage of lead, impaling the wax from all angles until there wasn't a trace of its existence. "Any manifested item that leaves its owner's cell will be terminated, so it'd be wise not to carry out that plan."

Adagio, however, was too aghast by the aforementioned brigade of bullets cascading into the candle to retort; the resulting silence from the seductive sorceress of songs being the only indication she understood. However, her stunned silence—along with Nightmare's rest—was short lived once an alarm rang throughout the cosmic facility. "What was that?" Adagio questioned as the bell finished its course.

"That means it's time for lunch." Just as the alicorn announced this, the cell bars swung open, allowing two black clad armed guards to enter.

"Follow," said one of the guards, presenting two pairs of handcuffs. Once the inmates were properly contained, the armed pair led them out the cell. Once out of the cell, Adagio took quick notice of the other inmates, all escorted by identical jailers. In the moment, the siren entertained the idea that out of all the carbon cut copied coppers, the officers escorting her were the same ones that were with her in the shower. She quickly perished the thought, thinking the chance of escaping was greater than that happening.

"Hey sweetcheeks, did you miss me?" whispered the officer behind her, before giving the siren's ass a not-so-playful slap.

Oh shit.

"So...who's in charge of this place?" The siren said, observing the area around her. "The Prince of Darkness? I thought there would be a lot more fire."

"You believe in that stuff?" Nightmare scoffed, before stuffing down a glob of, well, glob. Adagio had no idea what was currently on her tray, looking between a mixture of congealed vomit, gravy, and afterbirth. The only thing that insured her that the mesh created from the literal bowels of hell was indeed editable was the curt answer "it's nutrients" the cellmate gave once she saw her eyeballing it. "No, the 'Prince of Darkness' owns this, and he prefers to be called Lucifer. Contrary to what you think, he's only the establisher/supervisor of all Purgatories, assigning others to actually run them. I heard he likes to go on long walks to the beach and loves reading: charming fellow, he is. Anyway, the one running Tartarus, which is the Equestrial plane's Purgatory, is some bearded wizard. Star-whirl, I think?"

"WHAT?! THAT OLD FUCK IS STILL ALIVE?" The surrounding inmates that were near all gave the siren confused—some lustful—looks after the outburst. However, Adagio gave neither hide nor hare of a fuck from the stares, to busy seething in her seat. That fucker, she thought, just can't leave me alone, can he? So what if I started multiple racial wars, those ponies were already at each other's throats.

Nightmare, seeing the anger prevalent across the siren's features, decided to intervene her oncoming temper tantrum. "Calm down, if you cause a scene the guards will be swarming this table."

"I couldn't care less about those cunts, right now! That bearded ass wipe down right refuses to leave me be!" growled the siren.

"Be quiet! The guards are looking over here."

However, the alicorn's warning went on deaf ears, doing nothing but instill the boiling hatred the singer was feeling. "I swear, I'LL KIL—" the oncoming threat was interrupted and replaced with a resounding slap, followed by silence.

"Listen, you paragon of narcissism, you're not the only one that guy brought down here. In fact, sixty percent of the inmates was from the wizard, and that's just the female portion, so stop acting like a special little snowflake, and shut up." The siren, regaining her senses, glared up at the looming alicorn above. The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Before they could process the potential consequences, they thrown themselves together, initiating another domestically abusive lip lock.

Getting tired of standing, Nightmare Moon hastily kicked off whatever dared remain on the table, before roughly dropping the siren and herself on the bolted down platform. In the midst of their ~~genital mutilation~~ foreplay, however, a newcomer stood by, taking this as the perfect opportunity to introduce herself. "Excuse me, are you still using this seat?" The two inmate was startled, remembering that they weren't in their cell before disentangling themselves from each other. The woman in front of them had pure black chetin covering her entire body with a few holes in her limbs and horn, while her dark green mane was in a permanent drenched state. "Oh, don't stop because of me. A lot of us were enjoying the display," she said, before directing their attention to another table of inmates; while they did wave and gave a few cat calls, nearly all of them had their hands in between their legs.

"Oh god, are they all..." Nightmare started, unexpected worry in her voice.

"Jerking off? No, no," said the invader.

Nightmare blew a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God, I tho—"

"Women can't jerk off. They are masterbating to you, though," interrupted the female once she sat down at the table.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself: I am prisoner #9374. Call me Chrysalis."

Author's Note

And finally, I got this chapter out. You would not believe the bitch it was to write this on a phone. Either way, there is bound to be a fuckton of errors in this, so fair warning.

Tata~