I don’t know if you all know this, but I’m a very impatient pony. So impatient that I will pace back and forth, to and fro, just waiting for something to happen. Perhaps it’s the edging damsel in distress state of mind that paused my streak of mind-blowingly outrageous stunts and actions. This just isn’t fair! I thought to myself as I sat down and tried to look for some source of interaction. Another pony, a guard, or even a little bug that might’ve crawled across the cold cement in the search of warmth. (I would’ve named him Party Bug and celebrated a fake birthday if I had found one); but no, the never ending and aggravating silence bore on for what felt like hours.
I took to dragging my hoof across the thick iron bars that kept me pinned inside my cell until my foreleg hurt. The dull clinking of metal did little to ease my mind. In retrospect, I should’ve known that this was a futile attempt to bring attention to myself, as no one (or pony) came through to visit me. Lovely, I thought to myself as I had started to subconsciously monologue to myself-
Oh, dear, this loneliness is such a drag. Maybe I can make some noise. Shout a little. Perhaps even put on a little talent show and invite all of my kidnappers to watch as I sing my heart out to the uncaring crowds of those whom stole my chances at helping the world. “Listen to me sing!” I would shout through the impenetrable walls of stone and concrete! I would sing with my very soul - my weapon of mass destruction - and break through the walls of oppression to bask in the glorious sunlight of the unknown future that awaits me! I would escape, to live and to fight, to search the world for that of which makes me, me.
-and it went on and on until I drew up a blank. Until my brain hurt and I just started drawing invisible pictures on the floor with my hooves. I was an artist now. I was Picasso. Da Vinci.
“A little shading here-” I would mumble as I rubbed my hoof over the cheeks of an unseen smiling boy on a tricycle. “-and some blush over there...”
Yet I wasn’t satisfied. I could be whatever I wanted. A florist, seamstress, or even a damn boxer, but I couldn’t calm down! The storm of hate tore through me and I felt caged - because I was! I wanted out. This darkness and silence was driving mad. Insane, even.
So I screamed.
I screamed until my throat was raw and I kept screaming! I bashed my hooves against the mirror in my cell and it shattered into hundreds of little sparkling shards. I bucked at nothing and everything until I was a breathless mess. Even then, I chewed through the blanket of fatigue and fought on to destroy the imaginary monster that put me in this cage.
Not even the opening of my cell door calmed me. I thrashed around even as a nylon noose slipped around my neck and choked the oxygen from my lungs. I burned for freedom and now someone was trying to put a leash on me. Talk about irony.
“Put her with the other unruly ones,” a voice barked at the figure whom thought he could walk me like a show dog to another cell. This only enticed more anger and rebellion as I growled and thrashed more and more as I was torn from my cage.
“She’s going insane,” my ‘walker’ said like the coward he was, as he dragged me down the endless halls. The fear in his voice was undeniable and it fueled me. He had every reason in the world to be afraid of me. If for only a second I could be free, this piss-pants little bitchcake would be de-
“Stop squirming!” He yelled at me and jerked me aside so that my hooves fell from under me and I skid across the smooth flooring. He held me at a distance as I got back up on my hooves. His face was even more fear-filled than his voice.
Maybe he’s too used to dealing with pushovers, I thought to myself, which brought about a small chuckle in my throat.
I turned and glared at the man wearing black, the man who was treating me like a wild animal, so I was acting like one. A pistol was holstered on his side and I smiled at him. I smiled a big mean and cruel smile that the Joker would’ve been proud of. My forehead grow hot and a soft blue and green light filled the hallway. “Why don’t you make me?”
The condensing energy around my horn grew with my anger and the man’s face was shadowed by the light. The power! I laughed in my head as the ball of energy built up until it reached the size of a baseball.
“Put her down!” Someone shouted, breaking through the veil of madness that surrounded me. A pinch, sharp and intense shot into my flank. It broke my focus and the magic dissipated into the air. I looked at my flank, expecting to see a bullet lodged firmly into my rear end.
I could almost hear myself crying and screaming as blood would pool around my white coat. It’d be agonizing and unbearable. I’d wish for death to blot out my consciousness and welcome the thought of withering away into nothing...
But that wouldn’t happen until I looked at the wound, right?
Damn.
I turned and looked at my flank, expecting myself to be dirtied with crimson. How would I deal with it? What would I do? It’s like I was hopped up on speed. I couldn’t stop thinking!
I sat down and plucked a purple feathered dart from my flank... “What the hell, man?” I said as my voice suddenly felt so heavy that I couldn’t speak. Lead replaced my bones and I slumped over... “Screw you guys... I wanna go home...”
I miss Ellie... And Sweetie Belle....
v^v^v^v
In the following minutes, or even hours, I felt myself being dragged down the hall. I was stuck between the boundaries of being awake and unconscious. I could hear every click, and pit-pat of rubber-soled boots on the floor. Even the opening of another cell door as I was thrown into cold and lifeless room... Except, I collided with bodies when I landed. I would’ve thanked and apologized whomever I landed on, but I couldn’t even open my eyes at the moment.
“Oh no, they got another...”
“We’re all gonna die.”
“We can’t give up yet...”
Voices, high and squeaky with fear. Ponies. Ponies! I thought to myself. There has to be a way! I grit my teeth and tried standing, but my hooves were numb and locked in place. Against my own will, however, I felt myself being lifted up onto my haunches - wings, hooves, and possibly the warmth of magic must’ve been what pulled me up. Ponies that I didn’t even know, despite the grip of depression that lingered here, they helped me up.
As my eyes opened I was greeted with the many faces of different coloured ponies. I didn’t know any of them, but their scared and worried faces seemed to peer into my very soul. There was at least eight of them.
“Are you okay?” A blue-ish earth pony mare asked me quietly. “Can you tell me your name?” Her words started to sink in, but it was like she was talking through a foot of glass. My head started to droop and my eyes were about to follow.
“Stay with me, girl,” the mare said and clapped her hooves together, trying to keep my attention.
Whatever I was shot with was pulling me down and I couldn’t form the words in my throat. Whatever I wanted to say came out as blurred and slurred fragments. I shook myself several times, trying to shrug off the fatigue and eventually, through sheer willpower, I was able to keep my eyes open.
“C’mon, sweetie. What’s your name?” She asked once more. Her brown eyes were unbelievably dark and smooth, and her orange mane fell just over the top of her neck.
“I think she might’ve hit her head.” Some pony said behind her.
“What if she’s brain damaged?”
What if you’re brain damaged, you ignorant shit-head? I got shot in the flank with something...
“Just leave her be, Crystal. She can’t help us.”
The mare trying to bring me back to my senses sighs and sets her hoof on my shoulder. “Shut up, Caleb... She’s just like us.”
“Wild,” a pony said in agreement.
“Brave?” Another suggested.
“Insane,” another mutters.
The mare shook her head and the feeling in my hooves started to return. “Determined. If she’s here with us, then she’s too wily to be cooped up for long.”
The ponies began muttering amongst themselves, talking about escape, others cowering and quivering in fear that they wouldn’t see the light of day ever again. Nay, the burning inside my stomach returned furiously and I pulled at the cuffs keeping my hooves together. They didn’t budge, but it felt good to fight again - to feel the burn.
I sucked in a breath again.
“My name is Rari...” I started coughing - the air in here was thick with dust and it was hard to breathe. “Rarity Belle.” I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind. My name isn’t just... “Rari...Tony. Belle. King...” I sat there, rubbing my head.
I let it out and a collective gasp fell over the mixed group of bound and cuffed ponies. They began mumbling about me:
“Is that really her?”
“It can’t be...”
“The element of generosity?”
I stamped my two front hooves down, and they fell silent. I got a good look at all of them. Earth ponies, pegasai, and unicorns. “Yes, that pony.” I said as soon as I felt that I could keep my brain from falling apart at the seams, and cracked my neck, then my heftlocks. I began untying the hoodie from around my neck with my telekinetic grasp, then draped the it over an unconscious pegasus who was shivering profusely. The element of generosity hung from the golden circlet that hugged my neck. The purple gem shimmered as the dim light caught its’ surface.
My presence was much more inspiring than I expected. I’m not Rainbow Dash, or even Applejack, but the faces on the small group of ponies around me grew intense with the rising tempo their chant.
A cry for revenge, freedom, and for the taste of sunlight ripped through the small group of rough and rowdy ponies truly showed who they were. Not animals, waiting to be killed in a cage. Ponies united for a common goal... It was a beautiful sight to behold.
My eyes searched the small crowd for their faces. I saw the different colors, yes, I’ll admit it. But what I really saw was that... We weren’t different at all. No, we were all ponies. Betrayed. Forgotten. Abandoned. In this cement prison, we’re all brothers and sisters. There was no line that divided us. No matter of wings or horns.
This is what it feels like to belong. I breathed in the thick, dusty air and collected my senses.
“Now, dearies,” I said politely. “Let’s put on a show.”
The plan hatched inside my mind faster than I expected it to. It was a rather simple, but obviously rough-and-tumble idea. Simply put, one of us would fake an injury. Moan, cry, and other seemingly self-harming things to draw attention. We wait for a brainless guard to come over... Then we jump him. Nick the keys, get out of here, and spring as many ponies as we can on our way out.
I’m brilliant.