Author's Note

Ah, you've made to chapter three of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature fanfic no less on the grounds that a previous chapter has dealt with heavy subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, this was by far a strong note for many readers complete and therefore you were all given an option to skip ahead to this chapter: whether or not you had taken this offer, it was only up to you to do so nothing more.

As always, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.

Lastly, let me also say that I hope you enjoy this chapter now more than the others and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for future chapters later; henceforth, I will leave you with but one saying only: thank you very much.

Photon

It was once said that in times of peril, it is always darkest just before the day’s dawn; however, in this case, it had already begun despite the gray sea. An abundance of snowflakes were found to be falling from the heavens and onto the earth with the howling winds as their own uncertain inclines. Their collective target happened to be a large conurbation, a series of tall towers having already made an attempt to touch the firmament above them. Concrete and vegetation alike were overwhelmed by soft layers of whiteness piling up within the dream drop distance between the ground and the air. Hereon, the only signs of life brewing throughout the shine in the storm were various vehicles traversing about and pedestrians daring to set foot.

One particular place within that town had stood out and about in the process: while its was home to many, it was without a heart or any vital organ whatsoever. In addition, it was also devoid of color, bearing the resonance of a megalith like many of the very skyscrapers here within the city despite its own near seclusion. Taking up as much as a few blocks, a towering base was surrounded by small walls with similar structures at each corner, albeit much more circular in motion. Any wayward pedestrians caught out nearby were more than aware of its intimidating purpose; even a squadron of seven or more barely dared to pass by it. Simply put, its very formation was built on the foundation of control and segregation with little attention to moral fiber if there ever were even any to speak of.

Deep within was an open field riddled with many lines of some numerous monochromatic stones barely above the ground unlike the wooden pikes. Whatever life that would have been allowed to bloom had been snuffed out by the ice and snow; even the nosegays had been subjected to the cold. Anyone found on the premises had worn a uniform on: for most, a blue ensemble of caps, jackets, jeans, and shoes; for some, it was brown and green.

Of the many out and about amongst the very area, one person stood out amidst the others: a lone woman was found staring at the stake with conflict. Her skin was one of the best of both worlds, coating reminiscent of terracotta in a lighter shade with milkiness and some bits of it wrinkling about. The woman’s eyes had possessed some dark hazel, its shifty state of affairs were rife with earthly riches beyond the wildest of any lifeform’s dreams. Her locks were a black dog serenade offset by a colorful scarf with every color straight from the rainbow with its shades and hues crying with joy. The woman wore a long jacket that was dark blue like the midnight sky and thick purple pants with sparkles of whiteness adorned on themselves. Her heavy boots were gray like the stormclouds above which were dumping its payload onto the earth and its inhabitants yet devoid of such riches.

“It must have been seven years since I had seen your ugly face, a lowly thug of a man on trial for killing a mother of your own child; it was one thing for the lot of us to bring you down, but I never expected an introvert like her to knock out some of your teeth and here you are: dead…” the woman spoke, staring at the slab nearby her footwear with a conflicted gaze on the horizon.

She spat onto the stone so soon the slimy saliva solidified with the snow suddenly, simply thanks to the sheer cold of its current surface temperature.

It wasn’t long until the woman heard some footsteps trampling onto the ice and snow followed by some gruff coughing, “I take that you’re done with that big old shit sandwich of a man, eh Lighthouse…?”

“Messenger Bag, I still can’t believe that you’ve ended up working at this prison of all places…” she was quick to retort, turning her sights away to find the source of the conversation instantly, “I never thought that an individual such as yourself would become a shrink, especially since that day…”

“That was in the past and besides, I’ve already made it a policy to make peace with the people who’ve I’d hurt since the war ended; after all, the Princesses decided enough pain and suffering was more than needed for me to earn that second chance…” the aforementioned individual replied with little hostility.

Messenger Bag was a man without a plan yet was on a mission for something only known to him alone; of course, this was too scarce of a description. His skin was much like Lighthouse in terms of quality but a scant few shades darker, matching that of some copper toned tableware of a bygone era. Messenger Bag wore thinly rimmed glass that outlined his fiery yet tamed red pupils, controlled by none other than his very welcoming visage thereof. The man’s locks were also dark yet had some bits of star platinum within them to be easily told apart from the snowflakes falling upon themselves. Like the woman nearby, his attire was well suited to the environment, thick enough to resist the cold; however, it’d blended in with the precipitation. The only subtle differences between her and Messenger Bag’s attire were the fact that he wore a blue shirt, some green pants, and even black shoes.

She scoffed about anyway, “you’re almost the penultimate person to talk about second chances, especially after what you did to the lot of us: disrespecting the court, making fun of us, you even caused that poor young woman to risk going to jail because of that bastard, you know that…!”

“That’s all in the past and to be honest, I felt sorry for Fluttershy more than I feel sorry for him; as a matter of fact, I have come to feel sorry for that wretched man not too recently anyway…” the man responded with little care, looking at the spot Lighthouse had stepped away from earlier, “don’t get me wrong: he had to be punished yet this was crossing the line even in my book. The moment he’d ended up in the courtroom, he was as good as screwed, something that you boys and girls in the system would've happily agreed with; heck, Carrot Cake even said he was willing to give that girl a freebie for having the stones to punch that brute out. Of course, even I was surprised as to how he was able to react to the news of him being convicted by a jury of his peers, citizens united to have a little civility in defending themselves and one of their own from monsters like him: lashing out and raging against the machine that ironically showed itself to be breaking down before our own eyes. I may have wasted my breath calling out so many people left and right, including you yourself because I chose to stay rather than run, but this violence, cruelty, and murder was crossing the line even for me; besides, even watching him lose several of his teeth came to me at a shock.”

“And yet your outburst was the most shocking: not only did you call him a waste of a man, you referred to Judge Styles as a weakling, even called us bailiffs a couple of cowardly boobs…!” the woman snarled lightly.

He took in a long deep breath and said, “indeed and up until the war came to our doorstep, I had stood by those words; after all, not only was it my right as a citizen to say what I have to say, I wanted to make it clear that this wasn’t the land I was born and raised in. In school, we were taught that this country was the greatest in the world because it was founded upon the principles of harmony and spreading it; it was true for the most part but it didn’t change the fact that we still had problems of our own: drug running, assault, kidnapping, shootings, stabbings, and the fact there was a sex trafficking ring underneath our noses. Come to think of it, I remember this conversation I had with one of the inmates: I believe his name was Ponet…”

“Ponet Joyner… the Ponet Joyner… the Ponet Joyner who got busted for his role in the slavery ring down at Plato’s Cavern?!” she exclaimed loudly, choking on a few words before regaining control over herself, “get the fuck out of here; I thought guys like him were at the risk of being killed because of it…”

“Not him… according to the papers, they say he’s been responsible for taking it down completely, especially concerning what had happened with the girls they’ve found…” Messenger Bag stated.

With little warning whatsoever, a shot was heard piercing their ears, forcing them down on the ground upon listening to the speakers, “LOCKDOWN PROCEDURE…!”

“Damn, even after all these years and we still can’t help it: too many fools acting up like they own the place…!” Lighthouse had shouted as the klaxons blared in the background almost instantaneously, “ain’t it a fucking bitch…”

“Not when you come fully packed: I may be a psychologist, but I refuse to be a pushover in here, even with some armed guards all along the watchtowers; besides, it’s kind of rare for me to keep a weapon on me…” the man said to the woman loudly.

It wasn’t long until some loud barking and shuffling feet was coming their way; afterwards, they were greeted by some canines and a gruff voice too, “Mr. Bag, what are you doing out there at the graveyard? We need to get you to a safe zone; some assclown socked someone in the face with a basketball…!”

“Really, I wish I had been there to see it; who was it this time: Longinus or Jonesy…?” the eponymous psychologist asked as he slowly got up to face them, “to think that one little ball would be enough, like, wow…!”

“I’m sorry, officer but is he always like this…?” she asked, now facing the animals under her peer’s supervision.

Their owner, a bright skinned man holding an assault rifle, answered back, “beats me; to be honest, he should have stayed in jail…! Now let’s go… besides, this should be cue for you to leave; visiting hours are over…”

“Good point; I was going to leave anyway…” Lighthouse bellowed, finding the time to stand back up and be escorted by the canines’ handler, “cutie probably wants me to be ready for tonight: it’s our anniversary…”

“Ah, congratulations…!” the man had interjected.

The woman turned to Messenger Bag and said, “you’re not invited…”

“I know…” the psychologist chirped, “still, have fun…!”

“Nosey…” she muttered to herself before they had gotten inside, out from the cold literally so to speak of.

It wasn’t long until they had found themselves being greeted by the sights reminiscent of its cold exterior, especially since the alarm still blared. Only shades of gray and blue had dominated the very background, showing little to no signs of compromise whatsoever despite the red flashes. There were scores of people already being shuffled around to and fro: many were inhabitants of the area, at the beck and call of their handlers. All whom had remained here were the visitors in the middle of leaving under the watchful of their supervisors being taken in another route.

Lighthouse was quick to identify the scant number of people whom had no uniform whatsoever as the tamer said to her, “have a nice day…!”

“ALL VISITORS ARE TO VACATE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY; VISITING HOURS ARE OVER…!” the woman heard the speakers blaring throughout the hallway, joining the people found marching off towards an exit, “PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF: DON’T PICK UP ANYTHING; YOU’RE SUBJECTED TO BE SEARCHED ON THE WAY!”

“Damn, ain’t it a motherfucker: it’s been only a couple years and some things don’t fucking change; even taking Persimmon Tart down wasn’t enough…” she’d muttered to herself, currently being surrounded by a sea of people like and unlike her in terms of appearances imaginable.

Lighthouse was a few nine yards away from the solid gates, standing in line with the very people waiting to get out of here as soon as possible. Up in front of the woman was a checkpoint with a small group of men in uniform armed with some guns and accompanied by similar dogs. Behind herself were more people of the same mindset as the likes of her, nothing more was to be said or hear besides their ruminations therein.

Of course, Lighthouse wasn’t the only woman in attendance; as a matter of fact, she could hear some soothing shushing as well directly abaft her, “it’s okay, Jasper… mommy’s here; just be patient…”

“That sounds like Fluttershy, but how is that even possible…?” the raven haired observer thought to herself in a silent way, refusing to turn around, “I thought that she was too scared to even visit a prison, especially after what they had tried to do to her years ago…”

“What if Zuul ends up–––” a faint male voice struggled to speak, only to be silenced again in the same tone from before.

This was enough to have Lighthouse turn around and make eye contact with two individuals almost immediately, confirming her suspicions. Defined amongst themselves in particular were their collective likenesses in fair dignity, dressed warmly much like those already in the same line. Still, they had possessed some differences, much like the visitors forced to leave and make their own very way through a checkpoint up in front.

Nevertheless, these particular people abaft the woman were enough to make her recognize them almost instantaneously in spite of everything. For starters, one of them was an adult with hot pink locks underneath some blue earmuffs while the other was a child in a golden woolly cap. Secondment, the other woman was standing up at the same range as Lighthouse out of others whereas the youth was being carried around. Third of all, the pink haired individual had donned a brighter complexion in the shades of lemon chiffon while the child bore tones of coffee. The younger woman’s eyes were opened to bear some teal capable of moving heaven and earth whereas the youth remained closed and teary. The pink haired individual wore a thick purple sweater and some blue sweatpants while the child donned a green puffy jacket and pants combo. The younger woman’s green boots stood upon the ice and snow with solidarity whereas the youth’s black sneakers had remained airborne.

The pink haired individual was still too focused on the child abaft to even see the raven haired observer, focusing in on soothing the waterworks made by the male:

Hush now, quiet now
It’s time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
It’s time to go to bed

Pleasant dreams up ahead
Under the covers where you be
Free to sleep, free to dream
Free ‘til tomorrow, you’ll see

You can see them even unfurl
All that potential within yourself
Make them true just like you
In your hands, wisdom, wealth and health

You can do it, yes you can
Unlock it here and there
Make them true, sweet child
In such time, they’ll soar through the air

Hush now, quiet now
Lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
You’ll be safe in bed

“Wow, I never knew that Fluttershy is talented at singing lullabies, let alone childcare: come to think of it, what is she doing with that kid on her back; is that boy her son…?” Lighthouse asked herself as the motherly figure held her young tightly, “no, that can’t be right, I know this girl long enough to be in the same class as her since that fateful day several years ago. She came to court on that day to get a veterinarian's permit and permission for a new animal shelter and look how that turned out; she almost went to jail twice in the same year alone: first when she socked it to Persimmon Tart in the mouth and after the bombing that killed so many soldiers that night. I heard that the new pet cemetery was built nearby the forest on the same remains where her home was: to think that they would even burn it all to the ground with the animals inside no less, all because they were too loyal to her to be given away to someone else and a such a short time no less. Twilight had been talking about trying to get her conviction reversed because of all the confusion regarding the attack and how she found it so suspicious that they found her friend guilty far too speedily; after all, Fluttershy’s nothing like that bastard of a father we had dealt with together, even though I would have liked it better if she had stay the fuck away from us. I may not have any regrets in regards to Persimmon Tart considering what he and his brother had done but aside from her throw back the weight onto him, she did nothing wrong whatsoever to deserve being made out into a monster like them or the others that were found in our own home, especially considering what had been going on in our neck of the woods. I ought to consider myself blessed that I’ve lived this long to see the damned war come to an end already, not just because of the peace and prosperity; even without it coming to our doorstep, we still had some problems on our own turf: unemployment, overpopulation, homelessness, and even crime as well. Ironically, it was a good thing that we were placed under Miss Alder’s care since we started to bond together and see things from another perspective, even if it had meant dealing with two others males whom were no different from that bastard fuck; in fact, I had been able to settle down and consider starting a family with my hubby. I just wish that my parents were alive to see it though, especially my mama: to this day I still miss the churros and the sweetbread she’d make when I was young; but, that was a long time ago, nothing more, nothing less…”

“Excuse me, miss…” another female voice entered the raven haired observer’s ears, this time pointing into her direction with some sternness.

Lighthouse had now found herself facing off against another woman, but she was in a different uniform compared to the many in question. Like the pink haired individual, she too had a much brighter complexion but the skin was more in tune with winter weather already active. Locks of some dark green hair were already tied up in a bun, save for two bangs hanging out and around at the front view on opposite sides. Looking at the raven haired observer were circles of orange peering outwardly through a pair of crimson framed eyeglasses over the arches. Long sleeves of a jacket with matching cap and boots weren’t the only things being worn; a long purple dress was also found clinging about.

Lighthouse had stared at the woman in uniform and gasped, “huh…? Oh, I’m sorry, I have my visitor’s pass with me if you’re looking for one…”

“It’s fine but you must hurry it up; you’re holding up the line…” the white sentry had replied to the startled civilian in turn almost immediately, “besides, we’re going to lock the prison down in fifteen minutes…”

“Understood, there’s my pass; goodbye…” Lighthouse said right after the uniformed woman had searched the former’s jacket to find a green card with a brass chain hanging at the corner upon making a discovery.

It wasn’t long until the civilian was free to withdraw at once, no longer troubled by the icy and dicey atmosphere it’d just produced herself.