Warning: This is shit. Despite having been locked for over a year, my name has remained on the writer's list in prison thread.
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>You are Anon
>Recently, you’ve had an interesting life.
>About a week ago, you killed yourself.
>Also a week ago, you woke up in the middle of the Everfree.
>Initially, you were convinced you had woken in either hell or a weird heaven.
>That view was dispelled when you were attacked by a obese lion with tiny bat wings.
>All you did was kick it in the face and it ran away whimpering.
>You had made yourself a small shack by the third day, and had a small gathering of food.
>But a small technicolor pony had wandered very near your shack. It’s colors gave it away through the trees.
>You were sneaking up behind it, but you stepped on a damned twig.
>It whirled around and shot you with what felt like a taser from it's horn.
>Through sheer adrenaline you kept yourself on your feet.
>You tackled the small animal to the ground, but it shot another blast.
>It took you off guard, and when you went down, it kept firing them until a large number of white ponies showed up and hauled you off to a prison cart.
>And that’s where you are now.

“Fuckin’ ell’” you whisper
>You are in the prison cart sitting on a bench with three mythical creatures surrounding you. 
>In front of you is a minotaur and a gryphon.
>To your left is a unicorn, with almost the exact same body shape as the one you defended yourself from. 
>The minotaur and gryphon chat with each other, ignoring both you and the pony.
>However, the pony has pushed itself into the corner and is eyeing you fearfully. 
>You purposely put on a blank face, staring at nothing.
>Your ankles and wrists are cuffed, and they both chafe like hell.
>The rags you are wearing aren’t doing much to stop them, after all. 
>You shift around a bit and catch the gryphons eyes.
>It looks surprised for a moment before it’s eyes harden.
>”What manner of… creature are you?” It asks.
>You glance around, and the other two are both silent, looking at you.
>You sigh, and relent.

“I’m… I’m a human. Related to chimps.”
>If anything your answer just made them more curious.
>”Where is your homeland,” the gryphon asks “I’ve never heard of your species before.”
>Once again, you let out a deep sigh and talk with a deadpan.
“A place far away from here.”
>The two living myths in front of you seem to take the hint, but the cowering pony from before speaks up.
>”The globe is entirely mapped out. Does your kind live… underground, maybe?”
>You clench your fist. Talking with a FUCKING UNICORN about how you killed yourself would not be good for your mental health.
>Instead of answering the ignorant equine, you lean back and close your eyes.
>”Uhhh.. human?”
>You crack an eye open and frown.
“My name is Anonymous. If you want to call me Anon, fine.”
>The pony stutters a bit. “Um, uh, okay Anon,” she is clearly nervous about continuing to talk to you, but she still goes on. “Does your species live underground?”
“Goddamnit, no. We don’t live underground.”
>The entire carts gasps.

>From outside, a voice from a guard-pony calls back to you.
>”How… how DARE you! You’ll be getting an extra week for those curses!”
>You cock an eyebrow, amused.
“Did I say something wrong?”
>The pony, who you still haven’t gotten the name of, answers.
>”You just said a LEVEL THREE naughty-word!”
>The look of bafflement on your face inspired the pony to continue.
>”Those are really, really illegal!”
>Still caught up with the kindergarten-level of vocabulary, you give a pointed look at her and ask-
“How old are you? You’re talking like a child.”
>She is taken aback, and seems yet to realize she is yelling at a being twice her size.
>”I’m ten years old, thank you very much!”
>You open your mouth, before thinking about your where you are- living in Greece mythology. You shut your mouth.
>The off-white pony harrumphs and turns back to her corner. 
>The turquoise minotaur and brownish gryphon look at you warily out of the corners of their eyes.
>The hilarity of the situation almost catches up to you. Two MYTHICAL BEINGS, one called a 'man-eater', are afraid of you. And you just had a conversation with a unicorn.
>After a quick breathing exercise and a promise to blow up later instead of now, you go back to staring blankly at your wall.

>A few minutes later, the ride begins to slow down. 
>The bumpy road smooths out onto a concrete pathway leading to what looked like a small-scale mansion with a fence around it. 
>A gateway manned by a incredibly bored looking pony opens, and you pass by a sign on the side of the road.
>It reads ’Unusual Behavior Rehabilitation Center- UBRC’ in bubbly, colorful letters.
>“Jesus fucking Christ, did feminists take over this world?!” You think exasperatedly.
>The cart goes into what looks like a garage with a door inside.
>”Alright! Everybeing out! We’re here.” One of the guard-ponies leading the cart says. 
>A second guard helps them out of the vehicle, one by one.
>When they’re all out, he unlocks the ankle shackles around everyone's feet and/or hooves. 
>The four of you stand there for a few minutes, as the guards wait for something.
>In a quick moment, the door bursts open and a older-looking mare with a golden coat and curling brown mane runs through.She skids to a stop.
>She takes a few breaths of air before beginning to talk.
>”Hello everypony! Or, everybeing, seeing as it’s not just ponies this time. Welcome to the UBRC! We work to keep you out of trouble and from giving yourself or others boo-boos.”
>She continues- “I’m the warden of this center, my name is Perfect Management. What’re yours?” 
>She looks at the gryphon first.
>He points to himself, cocks his head to the side, evidently surprised he get called on first. 
>”Oh, me? My name is Erkle. Number one baddest gryphon this side of the border!”
>You watch on, unamused and unimpressed.

>Management gives Erkle a lopsided smile.
>”Well, we’ll have to make you not-so-bad, won’t we.” she responds with a joking manner.
>She moves onto the minotaur. 
>”And your name is?”
>The minotaur speaks with a gay, flamboyant tone. A hilarious contrast to his bulk.
>”My name is Xegen, Miss Manag-”
>You can’t contain your laughter at the sound of his voice.
>”Really now? Is this going to problematic?” The minotaur stares at you with a judging gaze.
>At the word ‘problematic’ you burst into full blown laughter, slapping your knees and sounding like a monkey.
>All the creatures in the room take a step back at your chimp-hollering laugh. 
>You reign yourself together and are barely able to speak.
“Sorry about that. Please continue.”
>The warden gives you a stink-eye
>”That was VERY disrespectful, sir! You’ll get a full ten-minute timeout if you don’t apologize RIGHT now!”
>You stutter out a very half-hearted apology, giggling in between every word.
>”Hm. Good enough.” Management says “Now where was I? Oh yes. What’s your name, miss?”
>She looks at the annoying little pone who had been looking at you this entire time.
>”Wha? Where? Say again?” She jumps. You had been avoiding looking at her, but now that she’s right next to you, you can tell out her features. 
>She had a off-white coat and a two-tone light blue and dark blue mane. Was rather lean, from what you had seen from other ponies so far, with a cute muzzle and face. 
>You weren’t a zoophile, but she was vaguely attractive with a nice flank as well.

>”I asked what your name is, sweetie.” The warden answered, trying to hide a smile.
>”Oh, it’s Lovely Melody.” Your little personal stalker-pony turns her side to the warden, showing off some kind of tattoo. It’s a octave surrounded by little hearts. 
>Can you get tattoos on fur? Maybe if you dye it…
>”I’m really good with music!”
>Okay, so maybe these ponies get a tattoo of their hobbies.
>Unfortunately, Managment turns to you next. She gives you a quick once-over, as if deciding if you’d be dangerous or not.
>There’s a silence in the air as they all look at you.
>You take a hint that they want you to introduce yourself, and talk briskly.
“My name is Anon. I’m a human. I defended myself and was taken captive.”
>None of them say anything. The atmosphere is awkward.
>”Okay then.” Management tries to salvage the situation. “Um, now if you would please follow me, we can begin the tour.”
>Still silent, the four of you line up single-file behind her.
>You’re at the back of the line with Melody in front of you.
>You have the physically force yourself to look away from her flank.
>’Don’t go native, Anon.’ you think to yourself. 'You like humans.'
>The wardens stop the line in front of a wooden double-door, which only comes up to about your chin.
>”Right here is our Cafe. We pride ourselves with our five-star gourmet chefs and our sheer amount of different food!”
>Five-star chefs? Isn’t this prison getting a bit weird? 
>’Ponyland’ you reason. ‘Herbivore ponies. With magical taser-beams. No doubt they’re less severe than on Earth.’ 
>”If you’d like to step inside, I can show you our buffet.”
>She pushes open the door and you duck underneath it. 
>Bewildered, you look around the cafetorium. It looks like something copy-pasted out of a fucking royal palace!

>This must’ve taken millions of dollars to make!
>The room’s wall is a glossy-tan brick, but the lining and lights are gold.
>As in, real gold.
>And they’re using them on light-chandeliers and wall-trimmings. 
>The tables are solid steel with a gold polish.
>In fact, most of the room looks to have that gold polish.
>It’s a bit hard to look at because of it.  
>The group you’re with gaze on completely uninterested.
“How can you afford this?!”
>You interrupt the silence with a reasonable question.
>The warden gives you a funny look.
>”What do you mean? We receive a small stipend from the royals.”
“Still!”
>She is confused. “I don’t know what you mean. This was relatively cheap, after all.”
>You can feel a brain aneurysm coming on. You wrestle your anger down as best you can. This world is getting to you.
>The warden leads you out of the room and back into the hallway. 
>”Next stop will be the yard. There’s almost always a few tough ponies out there, so make sure you don’t get scratched!”
>The words ‘tough ponies’ almost makes you burst into laughter, but then you remember little miss Taser Horn.
>Physically, you’d be strong enough to punt one of these little fuckers over the wall.
>But you don’t have magic plasma to shoot at people.

>Either way, you still follow the warden outside to the yard.
>It was the size of a football-field and had weights of all types in lines. 
>There was only a few creatures out and about, and none paid you any mind. Maybe because they couldn’t see you from the distance away.
>The weights all look pony-sized, so maybe you could impress them with your ‘strength’. 
>In your world, you were decidedly average at anything in gym. You never bothered to try to get gains either.
“Hey warden.”
>She looks up and cocks an eyebrow.
“Can I test out one of the bench-presses real quick?”
>She seems to think about it for a moment before responding.
>”Well, they were originally for minotaurs, but since you're both bipedal I suppose it’s fine.”
>You walk over to the nearest one and look at the weights you can put on.
>The largest one they have is 20 weight measurements.
>You put four twenties on, two on each side.
>”Anon! Don’t do that!”
>You twist around and see the warden with a incredibly panicked look on her face.
>”You’ll break your forearms, Anon! I’ve never had a single major boo-boo here and if one happens then my record is tarnished forever!”
>Did you mention that these ponies are incredibly cute? Because they are. When they begin to cry, it feels like you just tortured a small, defenseless, mentally ill baby. 
“Oh shit, um, I’m sorry. Just.. just please don’t cry.”
>Her breaths slow down and she wipes away her tears.
“Warden, it’s okay. I’ve bench-pressed a lot more than this before.”

>”...Okay, if you say so.”
>What kind of warden was this?
>Bursting into tears because she thought you put on too many weights?
>Then again, this is a magical herbivore pony prison, so you can just put two and two together. 
>You get under the bar.
>At this point a few ponies who had just come in were crowding around you.
>You shift around in your laid-down position trying to get comfortable.
>The warden looks terrified.
>Not trying to draw it out, you begin lifting them up and down. 
>These ponies must use different measurements, because it feels like you’re moving slightly heavy air! 
>You could literally do these all day!
>The ponies around you have a mix of terror and fearful respect on their face as you lift like nothing.
>After a couple minutes of the easiest workout of your life, you stop and stand up.
>Warden has a look of disbelief on her face.
>I guess if someone who could bench press cars came to my world I’d have the same reaction, but here it’s just about a few pounds.

“Well, are we continuing or not?” You ask sarcastically.
>That seems to shake Management out of her stupor.
>”Uh, yes, yes. Of course.”
>She walks away, once again with you four in tow.
>Melody, strangely, had a light blush on her face.
>You suppose that the ‘shirt’ you had on still (which was just a few tatters of cloth) didn’t really conceal you very well.
>A sudden wave of embarrassment goes through you, as you realize all the ponies basically saw you half-naked. 
>Even though ponies are naked all the time, fur covers up muscle.
>That explains why some of the females were drooling, you conclude.
>And now that you think about it, it’s rather weird that the prison doesn’t have separate male/female facilities. 
>Another thing to add to the fastly growing list of ‘Why?!’.
>Also, did that technically mean you were checked out by aliens?
>You're not sure if that’s awesome or creepy. 
>You’ll settle for kinky. 
>While you’re caught up in your thoughts, you don’t realize the line stop.
>You bump into the mare in front of you by accident and almost fall over.
>She lets out a ADORABLE squeak, and blushes more heavily.
>”L-lewd” you can barely hear from her.
>You realize you stabilized yourself by putting your hand on her back. 
>The two creatures in front of her are making an effort not to look back. They’re blushing too.
>You slowly take your hand off her back, and she badly conceals a look of disappointment.

>That was… weird.
>But the reason the line stopped was more important.
>”Here, you can get a new change of cloths.” Management points a wooden door.
>You’ve stopped at the laundry.
>”Now, the ponies who’ve only done small things, like tripping some poor, innocent pony on accident wear the gray shirts.
>”If you’ve done medium-level things, like say level three naughty-words, you’ll wear a orange shirt.
>”And if you’ve done a REALLY bad thing, like give somepony a boo-boo on purpose, you have to wear the red shirt.”
>She opens the door with a hoof and gestures to the inside.
>Another room with gold trim and shine to everything.
>Sitting neatly on a table are stacks of clothes.
>”Now, everybeing here gets a orange shirt.” Managment says.
>As you walk towards them, she speaks up again.
>”Um, except you, Anon.”
>The other three look at you with wide eyes.
>”What did you DO!?” The gryphon asks, "Did you actually give a pony a boo-boo?!"
>You raise an eyebrow. 
“I thought I already said this- I defended myself.”


>The minotaur and the gryphon look doubtful, but go back to the cloths.
>Once again, Melody doesn’t take a hint.
>”Really, Anon? Ponies would never hurt somepony else. You must’ve provoked them.”
>Ignoring the fact that she called you a pony, and the fact that these equines are no doubt xenophobes, you put on your red shirt and reply.
“I was out in the woods nearby, minding my own business, when a bright orange pony walks right past my hut.”
>She quickly protests- “But nopony would ever go into the Everfree!”
>The warden is making an effort to look like she’s ignoring you two, but the size of the ponies’ eyes makes it a bit hard for her to hide the glances.
>The other two finish putting on the cloths while you rebute
“Look, I was just sitting next to my shack eating some berries. I don’t know why she was out there, but she was. I thought she might be trying to lure me out to some trap because she was being so obvious. I tried to follow her stealthily.”
>This time it’s Management who argues back.
>”That’s definitely not the report we got from that poor pony you assaulted!”
>She gestures to your group to continue following her as you talked. How she walked on only three hooves is a mystery. 
>You leave the laundry room and continue down the hall, once again in a single-file line.
>”She told us that you tackled her so you could eat her!”
>The utter senselessness of that story is ridiculous. She shot you with a fucking magic plasma TASER because she was frightened! What are you supposed to do?!
>You tell the warden that with a small amount of venom in your voice.
“Are you kidding me? She shot me with some light from her horn before I tackled her! It hurt like he-”
>You pause. Maybe you shouldn’t swear.
“...it hurt like heck.”
>The warden looks triumphant. 
>”So you ADMIT to giving her those boo-boos!”
>Taken aback, you stop in place. The line stops as the warden turns around to look you in the face while you talk 
After she pretty much tased me for no reason, yeah!”
>”But you still tackled her.”
“After she hurt me.”
>Management barks out a quick laugh, and Melody tries to hide a smile.
>”A pony would NEVER hurt another creature on purpose!”
>You’re not sure if you’re mad or humored. These ponies are so naive they think that their species couldn’t hurt a fly, yet of course the big, bad monster could. 
>You’re about to continue but the warden interrupts again with a snippy tone.
>”Either way, you’re here now. You won’t be tricking me into letting you go. No more arguing or I’ll take away your dessert for your entire stay!”
>An overhearing pony dressed in orange passing by hears what she said and gives her a terrified look. 
>You’re about to blow. This entire situation is ridiculous. 

>Most of the rest of the tour is in silence. Management shows your group the visitation room, community pool (which was as big as the yard), bathrooms, library, mailroom, and workshop.
>You cool yourself down by thinking of different ways to lobotomize an equine.
>She comes to a stop in front of a long row of flimsy balsa-wood looking doors on each side of the hall.
>”These are our clubs. I’m sure there’s at least one club on there you’ll like.” She waves a hoof at a small sheet of paper on the wall.
>A quick glance at it reveals that there are a very large amount of them. More so than any school you’ve ever been to. 
>”Just to name a few of our more popular ones, we have Music Club, Theater Club, Chess Club, Cooking Club, Magic Club, and O&O Club.”
>When Managment mentions Music Club, Melody looks specifically excited.
>None of those sound particularly up your alleyway, though, so you go over to the sheet to see if there’s one you’d actually like.
>A quick scan reveals some very weird ones, such as “Discord Club” (who would ever join a club with a name that means ‘Chaos Club’ you don’t know, and it says there’s only one member.) along with a ‘Infiltration Club’ (also only one member).
>With another look you see one that seems interesting.
>’Fighting Club’
>It only had three members, a nice low number. You didn’t want to join a club with fifty people in it. 
“Hey warden?” you call.
>She looks over to you, slightly miffed about being called by you.

“When can I officially join a club? This one seems fun.” you point at the one you want.
>”Which one?” she asks, mildly intrigued. “Oh, You seem like you’d enjoy Survival Club.”
>Confused, you look at your finger. It’s still resting on fighting club.
“No, I mean Fighting Club. Survival Club seems to much like Boyscouts.”
>She pales just a bit.
>”Wh-why would you ever join Fighting Club? Do you ENJOY giving ponies boo-boos?!”
>I guess you can see why she’d be frightened, in that case. 
“If we only give each other bruises, why does it matter? They’re not breaking bones or anything, right?
>Everyone around you turns green at the mention of a bruise, but when you mention bones being broke they seem to being holding back puke.

>Everyone around you turns green at the mention of a bruise, but when you mention bones being broke they seem to being holding back puke.
>”W-well, um, there shouldn’t be any.. *hrk* bruises in fighting club.”
>By now you’re used to the ponies’ squeamishness, but you’re still curious.
“How do you fight if you don’t at least bruise each other? At that point it would be like tickling, not fighting.”
>The creatures around you have a mixed look of disgust and embarrassment on their face at the mention of tickling.

>Melody is blushing a bright red, staring at nothing. Probably remembering the yard. 
>Management opens her mouth a few times before closing it. She seems incredibly flustered. 
>Goddamn pony world.
>Acting like I just told them what a rusty trombone is when I just fucking mention tickling. 
>”W-w-we don’t.. tickle each other here, Anon.”
>Exasperated, you pinch the ridge of your nose and say-
“I know. I’m just wondering how they fight and if I can join or not.”
>Management seems relieved.
>”Oh yes, okay. In our fight club we use a high-tech paper mache baton to lightly poke each other with. If you want to join, it’s simple to sign up.”
>Upon hearing what they actually do, you deadpan.
“No thanks, I’ve changed my mind, thanks.”
>You go back to the list.
>Why not try one of the more unique clubs?
“How about, uh, ‘Infiltration Club’?
>She seems unsure for a moment before answering.
>”You probably don’t want to join that one. Just take my word for it.”
>Definitely not taking a ponies word for it, you inquire further.
“I mean, I’d like to learn how to be more stealthy, seeing as how it didn’t really work out in the forest. Why shouldn’t I join it?”
>Management's eyes dart back and forth. 
>Both Erkle and Xegen seem curious as well, but Melody seems to understand why. 
>She seems to resign herself to her fate and answers you.
>”The Queen of Changelings runs it, that’s why.”
>You have no idea what a Changeling is, but it seems Erkle and Xegen do.
>”Why would you have them here!?” hisses Erkle.
>Xegen just sniffles and tries not to cry out of fear.
>”Those MONSTEROUS things! Why are they in here with us!? Don’t you have a dungeon to throw them into?!” Erkle continues his rant.
>If this is a pony prison, you wonder what a pony dungeon would be like.
>Maybe, oh the horror, they don’t get a football-field sized swimming pool?
>Heh, the ponies would probably call that ‘cruel and unusual’.
>But back to what the warden said. Changelings. 
>Didn’t you see those in a Supernatural episode?
>The demon things that can turn into whatever shape they want and eat children or something like that. 
>But in ponyland, they’re probably just someone who wears a mask.
>You decide to ask.
“Uh, what’s a Changeling?”
>The warden stares at you in disbelief for a moment.
>”Where have you been?! Have been living under a rock for the past year?! Those THINGS invaded Canterlot!”
>She spits out the word ‘invaded’ as if she hadn’t used the word in a while, coming out as horribly mispronounced.
>A city invasion wasn’t really a thing to get so mad about.
>Sure, places like America and Canada had never really been invaded before.
>But over in Iraq and Syria (or most of the Middle East) it was commonplace.
>Invasions were always all over the news channels, too.
“So? That’s not exactly unheard of.”
>Everyone around you looks at you like you’ve grown a second head and turned into a pillow.
>The warden seems to give up.
>”You know what? Fine. I think you’d work well with them if that’s what it’s like in your land.”
>”Just sign your name on paper next to the correct door.”
>She points one of the farthest doors away from you, which is at the very end of the hall.
>”Club time ends in an hour, and then you’ll go to lunch.”
>Management just seems done. She’s trying to just get this over with.
>”There’s the schedule for each day pinned up in each room. Just.. just go to whatever club you want, please. After lunch I’ll show you all your rooms.”
>You look back at Melody and shrug.
“Seeya guys later.”

>Melody, of course, rushes into the Music Club. 
>Xegen follow Erkle into Chess Club.
>They must’ve known each other before this. 
>The warden practically runs down the run and out of sight, leaving you alone.
>You internally shrug and walk down to ‘Infiltration Club’.
>A sudden incredibly loud snore from inside almost makes you jump.
>Jesus Christ, what could’ve made that god-awful sound?!
>You’re a bit more warey, but you open the door.
>It’s an utterly unremarkable room. There’s not even gold shining off of everything.
>Just a normal brick room with a small bar window at the top of one of the walls. 
>You like it here much better than the other rooms you’ve been to. 
>But one thing draws your eyes.
>A bug-horse is on its side in the corner of the room, snoring.
>It’s bigger than the ponies, but even with its horn it would only come up to your upper-chest. 
>It has chitin covering its entire body.
>Very weirdly, it has holes in its legs too. You wonder if that’s natural or if something happened to it.
“Um… hey? Hello?”
>You say softly.
>With a startled grunt it leaps into the air and whirls around to face you, lowering its horn to a defensive stance. 
>You back up a step.
“I wanted to, uh, join this club. If that’s okay with you.

>That seems to throw it for a loop.
>”Wait, what?”
>Its voice sounds like a thirty year old women.
>Except with a two-tone voice.
>It’s not the creepy two-toned voice, but more of a child's’ cartoon interpretation of it. 
>It’s actually pretty cool.
“I wanted to join this club. It didn’t seem as mundane as the others.
>The Changeling keeps on giving you a surprised stare. You didn’t notice until now, but she’s wearing a black shirt.
>You didn’t remember seeing those in the laundry…
>Either way, it would probably be good if you asked its name.
“So, what’s your name?”
>That seems to offend it, instead. At least it began talking.
>”How DARE you! My name is Queen Chrysalis, leader of the changelings, a species far superior to whatever you are.”
>You like this bug better than the ponies so far, despite its faux bravado. 
>At least it seems like it could defend itself.
>Judging by the automatic instinctual defensive stance when you startled her, she’s probably a predator species too.
“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t want to join a pony club so I came here. If you don’t want me, too bad.”
>Chrysalis seems surprised that you talked back to her.
>If she was just intimidating ponies, you can definitely understand why.
“How about I make this easy on you? I’ll sit in a different corner and won’t talk to you. You can go back to your nap.”
>Lazily, you try to make a deal with her. You could live with almost anything as long as you weren’t in a club filled with ponies.
“Look, I don’t like ponies. If you invaded them, I don’t care. It happens all the time back home. I’m not going to panic of the sight of you.”

>Chrysalis takes a moment to indulge that bit of information, probably surprised that I wasn’t going to start crying because ‘big meany bug did a mean’.
>At first you think you pissed her off, as she seemed to bare her fangs at you, but you realize it’s just a smile. 
>”I like you better already.”
>That’s good.
>You’ve made your first ally here.
>And a powerful one, at that.
>”Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my beauty sleep before lunch.”
>She goes back to her corner and does a little spin in place. She kneads the ground before laying down.
>Holy shit that was cute. When a cat does that it’s cute, but when a large-eyed, already cute equine (no matter if they look kind of like a bug or not) does, it feels like you just had a heart-attack from the sheer cuteness.
>Holding back a large, mindless grin, you go to the corner opposite from hers.
>The warden said it would be an hour before lunch, so you have time to kill.
>Why not join Chrysalis in her naptime.
>You settle down, laying on your side.
>The events of today have caught up to you, and you almost immediately fall asleep.

>Three quick raps on the door wakes you up.
>An unknown male voice calls into the room, sounding slightly annoyed.
>”Anyone in there? It’s lunch time.”
>A moment or two passes, and you can hear him call out the same thing to the room next to yours.
>You slowly stand up as the room spins a bit.
>Wow, maybe you shouldn’t of stood up so fast.
>Stumbling towards the door you regain your balance before looking around, making sure no one saw that. A bit of movement draws your attention to the other corner. 
>Chrysalis looks at you with an amused expression on her face, trying to hide a smirk.
“Don’t say a thing.”
>She shakes her head smiling and walks over to you.
>”I’m rather hungry. Let’s go.
>Pushing past you, she goes into the hall.
>You follow behind her.
“So… are there a lot of ponies in this place? I haven’t seen many so far.”
>Still walking and not looking back at you, she replies.
>”Depends on how you’d define ‘a lot’. Give me a number.”
>Damn, she’s kinda bitchy.
“Um, more than a 100?”
>She barks out a quick laugh.
>Turning a corner and going into a hall intersection, you see a VERY large amount of ponies walking everywhere.
“I revise my statement. Is there more than a thousand?”
>Chrysalis smiles.

>You and her make your way back to the cafeteria. 
>Beforehand, when the warden let you have brief look into the room you didn’t really appreciate how large it was.
>It was an 100 meter by 100 meter room, with rows upon rows of tables and benches.
>As dozens upon dozens of ponies piled into the room, fans on the roof started.
>Well at least it won’t be super hot.
>You watch Chrysalis split off from your side and go towards one of the many lines of creatures getting food.
>The selection is completely herbivore.
>Not even just herbivore, it’s completely vegan.
>If you were going to be here for a few years, you couldn’t survive on this!
>The only protein they had was some untouched moldy pistachios.
>Hell, there were obvious predatory species here, why did they only have salads and shit?!
>Griffons are probably carnivorous, judging by their beaks and lion/eagle ancestry.
>You look around the place, trying to spy a guard so you can ask.
>But there isn’t a single one in here.
>Repeated once again: What the fuck.
>At the very least, you weren’t even hungry.
>Before you got hauled off, you had a nice large feast of rabbit.

>Deciding to ignore the food problem for now, you move onto the next issue.
>The age old question of ‘where should I sit?’ was brought up once again.
>You thought that when you finished high school that problem would end.
>Of course not, and this time it’s in a magical pony prison.
>The obvious groups of the jocks, nerds, loners, goths, gossips groups etc. were there.
>And of course, an entire table was for just black shirts.
>There was only a few of them- a weird ass mismatched chimera thing, two lanky tanish-green unicorns with their manes colored like a barbershop pole, a much smaller version of Chrysalis, and a griffon with purple highlights around her eyes.
>At the end of the table, far away from anyone else, was a goddamn sasquatch.
>Like the lanky, paranormal looking sasquatch. Even looking at it gave you shivers down your spine. It had tiny, beady eyes staring at it’s tray filled with leaves.
>No other way to describes its appearance other than ‘unnatural.’
>Seeing no other place to sit than with the black-shirts, you start slowly plodding over to them.
>As you get closer, none of them notice you besides the sasquatch.
>Looking at it out of the corner of your eyes, you notice it’s shoulders rise up.
>Its eyes widen if apparent fear, standing on guard.
>Just from its reaction, you know it’s not from this world.
>A creature from here seemed to be unable to show or comprehend any threat of even mild violence.
>Not to mention, why would it have that reaction if it didn’t know what you were?