Author's Note

Hi there; it's me, Fireflower here once more with an electric feel ready with a new chapter of this here story on the way: suffice to say, the future chapters in the second half will be by far a strong note for y'all; this half having already served as a taste of what had came before as I wrote them all right at my fingertips, especially the previous one.

As usual, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to --- you know what? Fk it; you've made it this far so there's no use in me repeating what I'd said before in the disclaimers, especially after what y'all just gone and went through.

That being said, I want to say thanks again for putting up with my story since last season so far, especially if you been reading the prequels as well since years ago: I honestly wished that I could've done this sooner, let alone finish it; what's funny is that had I done so in half the allotted time, I would've surprised y'all with another story on the same month, albeit on New Years' Eve so to speak like before but I digress.

Cockfighting

There was sheer nothingness all throughout, bearing a simplistic form within its own world; as a matter of fact, it’d already demonstrated its capabilities by harboring the very element of surprise through the mere means of uncertainty therein. That being said, the cubic centimeters of this very transient ocean did little, if anything, to hide away the objects which would’ve been found even with the naked yet trained sort of eye bearing such abilities in such so little time whatsoever. The mere idea in where something and/or someone dwelling deep within the jet–black void alone for any number of reasons, known and otherwise, was but time immemorial thereof; in this rather particular case alone, not even that could last.

Suddenly without warning, yet as if on cue, the erratic ringing of metal rapidly clanged against another resounded throughout the very darkness itself. As the echoes’ reverb quickly departed from the blackened ocean, so too did the uncertainty of nothingness alone; light filling the entire area instantly. Concrete made up the entire space, uniformed in structure and stricture hand–in–hand as they’d threatened to home in onto their own collective target. Here the source of illumination hung in the balance, inching away from the ceiling as electricity had unleashed its collection of photons all throughout. In the confines of the stony lonesomeness were some bedding, a desk, and seating as well as an amalgamation of a toilet and sink made with cold steel. Kneaded deep in the wall was a windowsill showing the outside world, already adorned by bars of tubular metal in a thick pattern simplistic to a fault. Opposite to the narrow prism were a much bigger set of steel with but one anomaly being a small open rectangle larger than the rest of the open spaces.

Lain across the divan was a mass of flesh and fabric in the form of a person cloaked from top to bottom in orange latched onto the body. So far, the lone individual’s hair was a cascading cerulean all throughout the scalp matching both orbs, except for spiky gilded highlights. The occupant’s skin was lighter than the slabs of concrete by virtue of bearing more color, bright as amber yet slightly frostbitten no less. Compensating for the rail–thin body was a thick shell in the form of an emerald splashed blanket which was opened at the sides already.

“Gallus, wake up…!” a strong masculine voice had been heard, yet it didn’t even belong to the aforementioned listener within the very room.

Nevertheless, the occupant in orange had arisen to the call with but a tired huff escaping already, “morning, sir…”

“Let’s get a move on, already: you have a hearing in a few minutes; there’s a few people who want to talk about your future…” the distant observer had shot back with restraint as Gallus started to rise from his station in life and face the doorway immediately, “you know the usual drill: face the wall, hands behind your back…”

“Whatever…” the occupant in orange said quietly.

Though an opening was made clear thanks to a hard click, Gallus couldn’t see it at all due to such a command as it were; the least he could do was wait until he’d heard and felt some thin hard metal circling around his wrists while the outsider barked, “step away… crack eight–alpha…! Back up… close eight–alpha…!”

It didn’t take long for the occupant in orange to turn back around and watch the door becoming more open than ever, facing the observer at once. Gallus was able to make a discovery that he and the observer in question shared but only one commonality: being the very same gender therein. Nevertheless, the very twosome already present and accounted for possessed many considerable differences separating each other almost instantly.

The figure alone whom had just arrived to witness the occupant in orange still standing about at a much taller height range, but with more density in the former. Unlike Gallus’ hair which was still clean and thin, the onlooker happened to possess thick tresses of red crawling about with darker textures and whited strands. Eyes belonging to the bulkier counterpart just so happened to be a hierophant green focusing into the occupant in orange with but a mixture of pity and disgust. Simply put, the observant overseer had donned a darker complexion, one which was reminiscent of some fresh topsoil capable of providing life to all the forms. Dressed from head–to–toe were but a jet–black ensemble consisting of a headgear, jacket, pants, and shoes covering up the heavier man already up on display. Additional objects were found to be adorning their owner’s clothing as well; out of the many in question was a luminous badge upon much of the very chest. Yawed into the man in black’s left hand was a single key held in place by an enormous ring of similar objects carefully etching on towards Gallus’ direction.

“And thus the wheel of fortune spins and spins all before our session of jeopardy begins…” the occupant in orange had darkly chuckled as he was being led outside of his domain, looking around to see the identities and lack thereof in a mere matter of seconds all the same no less, “speaking of which, how was last night’s game show: must have been real interesting, right, sir?”

“Don’t toy with me, kid; you may have fooled the others but I’m onto your schtick as everyone else is: don’t forget there’s so many years one can stay in juvie before going directly to jail…” the observant overseer snapped as he’d started pulling Gallus out of the room gently and into the much opened yet still confined space thereof.

Even though the occupant in orange was now in the lead, his movement was restricted by the close proximity of his darker correspondent alone yet he couldn’t even resist a reply either way, “be as it may, sir, but it’s not like that I have anywhere else to be or to go in the outside world; then again, you probably wouldn’t have cared anyway…”

Both males in different uniforms became quiet as they’d traversed the static architecture at once, an amalgamation of concrete and steel composing the rear entirety of their shared environment: the former setting up the solidified walls and the foundation on finite multidimensional planes whilst the latter had served as walkways above ground and barriers to keep all tenants in and out. Although generally quiet to a fault, Gallus could hear waves of static mesh entering his ears, faint and nondescript voices as far as his overseeing observer was concerned about so to speak: out of the many, the former could plainly see that the source alone was a singular electronic resting at a corner atop a wooden bench with many pixels on their shared liquid crystal display. Nearby it were others like the observer in orange whom were sitting in their chairs, whether watching the screen and/or those like them at a table; the only thing that mattered were the clothes they were wearing were more or less the same, a few of which wearing colder shades than the former himself whether in part or in full, many whom were too busy to be seeing them. Even with the lights on display, be if from the outside world or of the ones embedded within the domain, darkness prevailed as a result of the choices made and unmade by its inhabitants, not that anyone and everyone were willing to take note of given what had been already shown so far, something Gallus and his bulky escort could relate to in spite of their irreconcilable differences.

Nevertheless, they’d both walked onto the flooring away from the confines where that particular observer in orange had resided in all the same. The sights and sounds of footfalls from themselves created a pattern in which would be easily observed, only to be broken out at a few times. Gallus stared at the snow–white shoes on both his of feet where they’d rested upon the concrete underneath as they both traveled on throughout. The man in black had still kept his orange counterpart in close range despite showing no emotion whatsoever, focusing in onto the task at hand.

“Two departing: one officer and one inmate; open up…!” barked the bulky pedestrian as a loud noise had buzzed into their ears briefly, both standing at a clear door on the opposite corner opening up, “close door…!”

Almost immediately, the males had now found themselves walking underneath a series of similar lights directly, past some locked boxes. Compared to their past surroundings, they were narrow and more devoid of life altogether; still, the atmosphere was fresh with oxygen. Even though they were both calm on the outside looking in and vice versa, the sheer uncertainty of the environment made itself known.

Within only mere minutes, the otherwise strenuous pattern met its bitter end, already overtaken by a vastly new area they themselves had just walked into. Although the background in here was more colorful, it was subdued by the faintest of its tones, embracing the minimalistic theme without any bias or fear. Series of windows were found right up in front of the two, bearing the scenery of cloudy skies with a blue streak bleeding out into the viewpoint already. Here, Gallus bore witness to some furniture in the midst of the new room: a wooden desk and a metal chair were out there on display in this finite spacing. Yonder overhead was some more light in a series of coils burning brightly at once, providing the area they were in some extra guidance and warmth as well.

Sitting pretty prim and proper were a trio of people within the chestnut desk, dressed in the more picturesque of attire compared to the two males. The first of these was a bright skinned man with blonde hair donning a crimson camouflage; his elbows were planted onto the ligneous surface. Next to the man, a dark skinned woman with locks of silver concealed beneath her green scarf pulled out some eyeglasses from her blue blouse. At the far end was another with her complexion, this time a brunet wearing yellow goggles and dressed up in a crystalline armor plate drinking.

“Have a seat, mister Gallus; we’ve been expecting you: as you may already know, your birthday is about less than a few seasons away and you’ve spent at least several behind bars in total…” the woman in the middle stated real plainly as the observer in orange had heeded her command almost instantaneously.

It didn’t take much for the titular tenant to talk to them tersely, “four and half, to be honest: the streets of Manehattan get real lonely during Hearthswarming; of course, you wouldn’t know anything about it, do you, ma’am…?”

“Let’s get back to the present as is, Gallus; such sentimental stories can only go so far in this day and age, even in yours alone…” the blond in red announced, grabbing some papers passed onto his side before looking over them in a matter of seconds altogether, “anyways, during your recent stay at this juvenile facility, you’ve barely gotten into trouble with the others altogether. Ever since your arrival years ago, you’d had accumulated a lot of altercations with both inmates and staff members alike overall: you’ve written profane messages, thrown small objects at others, slandered people and their names, even blinded one male; to be honest, it’s safe to assume part of the reason for your troubled past had something involving events before the war.”

“And what do you care about it: there’s plenty of poor boys in and out juvie with so many problems but does anyone care about them; better yet, what of those girls I’ve been hearing about…?” the observer in orange scoffed about disdainfully with a smirk on his face, raising some eyebrows from the three almost instantaneously.

The dark brunet coughed about before sipping another glass of an achromatic fluid from the pitcher, “can we please stay focused on you…? As far as we see it, your recent reentry was due to a vandalism charge some time in the past: apparently, you took a cricket bat to a motorcar and bashed in every single window before surrendering to authorities; care to explain that…?”

“What is there to explain: as far as I see it, there was no need; if anything, then how else was I supposed to get back inside…?” a mirthless laugh escaped from Gallus, serving as an answer for the group of three to hear loudly and clearly immediately no less, “besides, it was an old jalopy already due for the scrapheap: there were barely any tires at all, much less a coat of paint either.”

“Do you think of your incarceration as a joke; may we need to remind you that your about to become of legal age in a matter of months from now, much less how long you can spend there?!” the armored man interjected loudly, catching the observer in orange off–guard with little warning whatsoever.

Despite this, Gallus regained his composure and spoke back in return, albeit gently for the others to hear hither and yon no less, “with respect, dear sir, who said I was even joking…? Most people who can tell a joke want to make others laugh as hard as they can: excuse my language since it’d offend your delicate sensibilities, but I think even Pinkie Pie would have a better time making jokes about her twat and what it can do besides peeing down and lubing up…”

“HOW DARE YOU?!” the lone woman squawked in an instant, surprising everyone except for the observer in orange, “even I find your choice of words to be rather disconcerting: comedians relying on bodily functions and bedroom follies may be the kind of fun for some people but it’s not for everyone, not even me; including her, of all people, into all this makes it even worse…!”

“And why is that: because she’s just a woman like you or a Bearer, unlike all of us here; forgive me for saying it altogether but what makes you think you get to decide what is and isn’t funny?” Gallus retorted, his smirk warped into a restrained frown as with the rest of his observers so to speak of the very same no less.

It was now time for the blond in red to speak softly again, “like sir Dennis said, this hearing is about you and your future in particular; as far as we see it, your record as shown here today has described such insight to be rather troubling in its own right: spraypainting graffiti hither and yon, crank calls of a rather lurid nature, stealing food and beverages, not to mention jaywalking. These boyish pranks have been causing nothing but problems for others outside the facility even before your initial arrest no less; even in this day and age of postwar peace and prosperity, youngbloods such as yourself have done nothing to stop yourselves: if you have no respect for your horrible self, then at least have some for the Princesses whom pitied your lot in life at large. Out of everyone whom had ended up in here as young as seven, there have been a small fraction of those that have gone off to jail: even those whom had been released from there represent a big black mark for everyone we can’t reclaim, just like the dead ones; all in all, this fraction alone serves as a confession of failure for people such as yourself who end up here and places like it. ‘What gets into you all?’ the people have been saying; it’s basically the same question that both Celestia and Luna have been asking ever since the reunion: failing that, it’s obvious the former alone would be more than quick to find answers to the very same problem all the same. Speaking of which, people like ourselves have been studying it for darn well near a century, yes, but not any further even today; your case alone speaks a lot about your crimes and misdemeanors, if not your temperament and tactics out of plenty of others: you have no home or any parents yet you compensate for them with your intellect and agility, both of which wasted. Why do you insist on spending your time and energy getting in and out of these facilities; you’re making trouble up and down the city just so you can locked in a cell with other delinquents such as yourself and for what: because the orphanages were lacking here just as much as the ones in your homeland? At this rate, you’ll be nothing more than a useless bum with nothing but the clothes on your back by the time you get out and that’s only if you don’t decide to end up in a stony lonesome again; all that will remain are people whom will outlive and outlast every breath you take in and out of here like it’s nothing to you but a burning memory for some caretaker to record premortem. You can’t allow yourself to keep living like this for the rest of your life, Gallus, whether here in of Equestria or Griffonstone: nobody in or out of any institution needs this, not even a lowly vagrant no matter how old or young, going in and out here; there’s far too much to life to be throwing your freedom away before it begins, even at your age alone with such talents as yours. There’s obvious something that can motivate you to not only get out of this place but also stay out of it altogether for your sake: as much as there are people in these institutions whom would rather value solitude in there, they all yearn for liberty all the same; what have you yearned for before your arrest, what do you yearn for now, and what will you yearn for in the future…?”

“Safety, I yearn for safety; isn’t that what you Equestrians value as well: after all, Princess Celestia gave it to you right…?” the observer in orange peeped, quiet as a dormouse yet sound enough to be heard by his listeners upfront of and around himself, “even before the war, I couldn’t stand myself to be in Griffonstone any much longer; then again, who would even dare? If it makes you feel any better, then I like to return to my cell soon enough please: it’s obviously clear you decent folk in your pretty clothes and whatnot have places to be and more people to see; I, on the other hand, have a lot to think about with all the time that’s there for me as it is here. Thank you and be blessed…”

“Very well…” Dennis sighed before watching Gallus stand up and be escorted right out of the same door from before, this time with two uniformed individuals trailing after the latter already; afterwards, it was the former and his remaining peers currently left alone in the small world they’d become privy to.