>Be officer Cookies and Cream.
>Your investigation has lead you to the outskirts of whitetail woods.
>It may be way out of your jurisdiction, but you’re not here to arrest anyone. 
>At least... you hope it won’t come down to it.
>Time isn’t on your side.
>The sun will probably set come a few hours, but you decide to push through for now despite the risks.
>You’re terrified of the dark, and still need a nightlight like everypony else.
>You’re not much of a detective or tracker but these prints you’re trialing seem to be fresh.
>Besides, camping out two nights trying to find your target caused your pudding supply to run dangerously low.
>Sure enough, before it gets completely dark, you push through some thick shrubbery to find a crude wooden cabin with a stone chimney.
>Smoke wafts from the top signalling inhabitancy.
>You cautiously approach, second thoughts starting to work their way into your head. 
>No time to get cold hooves now.
>Taking a deep breath, you reach out and rap the door and sit in wait. 
>Nothing.
>You’re almost tempted to turn back.
>Just as you stand back up, you hear some fumbling around and the door swings wide open, revealing none other than Anonymous the hoo-man.
>Some primal fear causes a shiver to shoot down your spine when he locks eyes with yous.


>You barely catch a grimace before his expression softens.
>”Well if it isn’t my old friend, Officer Cookies. To what do I owe this pleasure.” he strains with a faux smile.
”I need-”
>He holds his claw out. ”Slow down there, Missy,” I don’t even know how I managed to do something wrong out here so I hope you have a warrant.” 
>You scrunch your muzzle.
“I’m not here to arrest you this time, Inm- Anonymous.”
>An eyebrow raises. 
“I know we’ve never really seen eye to eye, Anonymous, but… I… I need help. I need your help.”
>He looks pensive, as he tries to process what you’re saying but breaks out into a mocking laughter.
>You could bring him in for being rude, but you think you’ll let this one slide.
>Celestia help you if he tests your patience.
”I, uhh... brought these as a peace offering.”
>He looks down at you, unphased. 
>From what you know, he isn’t easily persuaded with sweets like other ponies
>You’re still hoping your famous homemade cookies will win him over.
>If only you had a glass of milk to offer with them.
>To your surprise, Anonymous starts to salivate a little.
>”I’ll tell you what, Officer.” He wipes some drool from his chin. “Since you’re such a cutie, you  can come in and tell me what you want.”


>Yes!
>”But,” he barks. “As long as you’re in my domain,” He gestures to the inside of his home.
>”Earth- err human laws apply.”
>You pause. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to leave your foam baton. You didn’t want him to be on edge. 
>An emergency churro wouldn’t have stayed fresh either so you’re completely defenseless.
>What if he tries something or gets violent?
>Anonymous, looks expectantly at you waiting for some kind of response.
”I don’t know what human laws are, but as long as you don’t get too close to me.” You toss the bag of cookies up at him, “Fine.”
>He snatches it out of the air and sticks his claw in, “You’ll get the hang of it, Officer.”
>Grabbing five out of the bag, he shoves them into his maw and walks inside.
>Glad to know he’s improved on his manners.
>You trail in behind him, making sure to wipe your hooves on his doormat. 
>Peering down at it. It reads, “F.U.C-”
>Of course he would have a rude doormat.
>First thing to invade your senses are strips of meat being smoked over the fireplace.
>The scent of burning animal and smoke is almost overpowering and makes your stomach churn, but you hold your ground.
>The second thing… huh…
>As far as furniture goes, things seem relatively cozy, albeit oversized.


>A stark contrast to how it looked on the outside
>It couldn’t have been cheap to get these furnishings.
>The rug in the living room even looks Saddle Arabian.
>Some typical mundane items can be seen around too.
>He must go to a nearby village for necessities every now and then.
>A low pleasurable moan brings your attention back to Anonymous. 
>Glad to know your homemade cookies can tempt even the most savage of ex-convicts.
>”Ohh yeah,” he says with a mouth full before swallowing. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have some hard apple cider.”
”Water’s fine.”
>Sitting on a large chair in his living area, you begin. 
“As you know, the annual evaluation is coming up.”
>He nods as he swallows. “Yeah, last year was pretty damn funny. Ice?”
>You turn to glare at him to which he gives you an expectant grin. 
>Cursing must be okay for humans.
”Yes, please. I still don’t know how you managed to convince the Princesses your underground fighting ring was a knitting club.” 
>”What can I say, fucking with ponies is my special talent.”
>You shift uncomfortably at his level three curse word. 
>“A shame I don’t get ass tattoos like you guys do. I bet it’d look awesome,” he chuckles, setting the glass down on the coffee table, before chugging a glass of milk.


>Stay strong, Cookies. 
>Stay strong for the warden.
>”Man, did I make a shitload of money from that knitting clu-”
”Anyways!” you raise your voice. “I need you to help me contain the prisoners for this next evaluation.”
>He crosses his arms smirks at you. "Why do you need my help? Miss rough and tough officer Cookies handed them fine before." he grins.
"This is partly your fault." You pout. 
>"Is it now?"
"You reunited all the gangs together, and they've stayed together. They've been causing so much trouble as a group that half the guard force ends up in tears by the end of the day. Several have even resigned."
>"Hey, I won’t take credit for that last part. Personally I always liked getting along with most of the guards to get special privileges." 
>By Celesia, how could you let something like that slip by you?
>"Who’s the ballsy little fuck that replaced me as leader?" 
>You’re starting to feel a little faint.
"Th-they’re still separate gangs, they’re just... are all under a truce now,” you strain, wiping sweat of your brow. ”Some of the leaders are hard to pinpoint but there are rumors that they all have very special strengths that they all play off of.”
>”Hmm.” He nurses the empty glass in his hands. “Well, Miss Officer, while I’m glad you’ve come to me for help, I doubt I know anyone still in there. They all get discharged after a few days.”
>Few days?
>You’re beyond flustered at this point but he either doesn’t notice or is pretending not to.
>”If that’s all, then I’ll show you to the door.”
”Wait! I... ” You take a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm down. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come asking for your help if I didn’t really need it. Your abilities and influence  with some of the ponies can still help, Anonymous. ”


>His grin widens, ”I guess I did leave kind of an impression, didn’t I.”
>Impression is an understatement.
>You take a sip of water to relax. 
”I’ve been finding more straws, rubber bands, and paper airplanes hidden under almost everypony’s beds. I think they’re planning something big.”
>”So you want me to come and knock some sense into them?”
>You tense up, not wanting to incite that level of violence.
“Well. I… I told the warden about it and we kind of panicked and…” you say fiddling with your hooves.
>He leans forward in his chair, slight concern about his features.
”W-we were backed into a corner, and we sent a letter to the Princesses saying they should work on evaluating the prisoners themselves, on a field trip. Where they wouldn’t have access to most of their contraband.”
>His brows furrow in confusion, as he tries to fight back more laughter.
>”And now you’re... faced with the problem of keeping them from wandering off and causing trouble.”
You nod “I ran immediately to try and get the letter back, but I was too late. They sent word back that it was a fantastic idea. So I packed up some essentials and tried to look for you. You’re not an easy guy to find, Anonymous.”
>”A chaperone then. Where are we headed?”
>You smile, taking that question as a confirmation.
”Fallow woods, not far from the prison.”
>”A camping trip! Why didn’t you say so?” He smiles. ”Alright, I’ll help. But you owe me one.”
You scan him skeptically. ”Deal. A-as long as it’s reasonable.”
>”I knew you would always come around, Officer. If I knew all it took was to be an outstanding citizen, I would have done it sooner.” He gets up and walks over, extending a claw to you.


>Your heart stops for a moment, but a glare deters him.
>”Ohh right, sorry.” He grins pulling his claw away, and awkwardly brushing the clothes on his legs. ”Anyways, It’ll be dark soon. We should make the trek back first thing in the morning.”
>A whole night with Anonymous, alone in his room where human laws apply? 
>You almost refuse until you hear a wolf’s howl in the distance causing you to clam up. 
”Okay!” you reply hastily.
>”Great, you go ahead take my bed. I’ll be fine here. No ifs and buts about it.” 
>You certainly never thought you’d live to witness Anonymous of all ponies be so polite. 
>Better not take it for granted. 
>You lay down on his oversized bed only to find out it’s a lot more firm than what ponies are usually comfortable with.
>Draping your cloud sleeping roll over it for added softness, you curl up under his equally large thick blanket. 
>Your eyes stay glued to Anonymous, expecting some kind of catch to come with his generosity.
>He seems content on laying back in his recliner, at least.
>Soon enough, he starts snoring softly despite sleeping mostly upright.
>You’ll never truly understand hoo-mans.


----


>The last of your pudding cups drops into Anonymous’ trash bin 
>Hopefully it’ll be enough to bring up your energy, you didn’t sleep a wink.
>He quickly packs his necessities sunglasses, a canteen, two changes of clothes, a large sleeping bag, and a large amount of dried meat, filling up the rest of the bag.
>Stepping out, Anonymous takes a key out of his pocket and shoves it in a lock, putting the security of your prison to shame.
>Must have had that custom made too, but you don’t really know why.
>Maybe he’s scared bears will come in and sleep in his bed?
>The trip is mostly quiet.
>Anonymous doesn’t seem too keen on talking for once, as he looks around enjoying the reddening of the leaves.
>Maybe it’s because he can’t use any of that vulgar language outside his home.
>You want to break the silence, but what do you say?
>The two of you have nothing in common. 
>Not to mention you think he’s always had some sick pleasure in teasing you solely. 
“Anonymous, nice day isn’t it?” you mumble.
>”It is,” he says, looking down to smile at you with that signature mischievous toothy grin of his. 
>You feel like you’ve unleashed the beast.
>"I never got to say it before I left, but thanks Cookies."
"W-what for?"
>"Most of my friends left prison after a few days to a week, but you were always around keeping me company."


"Save it, Anonymous. That buttering up won't work on me."
>"Ahh darn," he whispers under his breath, not dropping the grin.
>After a few hours of idle small talk every now and then with no teasing, which you never thought Anonymous was capable of, the both of you agree to stop for a quick break.
>You have an apple to snack on, but have lost your appetite as Anonymous starts munching on his dry meat reserves.
>You should be trying to get to know Anonymous a little better, or at least, start to figure out how he thinks now that he seems a little more tame.
"You know Anonymous, You never really did seem bothered being in prison. Why the change of heart?"
>Not seeming bothered doesn’t really do it justice. 
>He thrived.
>”Hmm. I guess... I got tired of the routine. Same repetitive meals three times a day, same curfew, same clubs, same antics from you," he says, before visibly straining to take a bite out of a strip of meat.
>Your antics? 
>He drove you mad in your vain attempts to expose him, but for some reason he’d slip up in the end and get caught anyways.
>Crime really does never pay.
>Not when Officer Cookies ‘n Cream is on the job.
>"I guess I just wanted to expand my horizons. Easier said than done when you’re on all the lists, terrible rumors have spread to outside gang leaders, and everyone knows everyone’s criminal record," he chuckles.
>By expand his horizons, does he mean taking over Equestria?
>You don’t think he’s that evil, but you wouldn’t put it past him either.
>”I was planning on coming back next week because of it.”
”I’m sorry, Anonymous.”


>You had no idea he’s had it so hard outside of prison. 
>No wonder he keeps returning.
>”I think I’ll be alright, even though, I-” he pauses and sniffs, making you look to him in worry. “I had a great sock heist planned and everything. It would have been really funny and now I probably won’t get to see it come to light anytime soon.”
>You sigh and get back up, earning a chuckle out of him.
>There’s good in there somewhere, he just needs some help.
>By late afternoon you make it to Ponyville.
>The trip seems a lot shorter, then again you’re not actively looking for somepony. 
>Stalls start to hide more fragile or valuable items under the shelf. Some ponies seem to smile, probably thinking that you’re here to lock Anonymous away.
>Others just stare.
>Fur on your withers start to stand upright and your tail flicks, the unwanted attention making you uncomfortable
>You know for a fact the locals didn’t treat him this way before, it has to be because of his criminal record.
>Looking up at him, he seems to be unphased but you know as much of a tough guy Anonymous is, it still has to bother him.
“Have you been alone in the woods without any friends the whole two weeks you’ve been out of prison, Anonymous?”
>”Nahh, every weekend I head out to the Everfree to talk to some Zebra. She buys me things in town for me in exchange for some money and help with gathering alchemical reagents in the forest.”
>The same Everfree where ponies never come out of?
”I-isn’t it dangerous?”
>”Not really, I even made friends with a manticore. He’s just a big ol’ fluffy kitty underneath those sharp teeth,” he explains raising his own claws up giving a playful snarl of his own. ”The most aggressive thing I can think of are timberwolves when they get overzealous. But they shatter pretty easily if you push them over.”
>You wince.


>You and Anonymous have been at odds ever since you laid eyes on each other so you’re glad he’s never gotten that violent with you.
>”They get back up after a few minutes,” he reassures you. 
”Well, a whole week is still a long time to be alone, A-Anonymous,” you croak.
>You start to choke back tears. 
>Nopony deserves that, not even Anonymous. 
>Justice means everypony has a happy ending.
>That’s the first thing they taught you in the guard’s academy. 
>”Hey, enough of that.” He kneels and nests your muzzle in his hands, wiping the tears running down with his opposable thumbs, his eyes darting around at some of the ponies that have taken notice.
>”The peace and quiet was relaxing, honest.” 
>Locking eyes with him, he gives you a warming smile.
>A smile works its way on your muzzle as well, and you keep trotting.
>You’ve been skeptical about him but maybe he really has changed his tune.
>At the train station, the trembling stallion at the counter gives you your tickets and immediately closes the stall.
>Letting your mind venture as you sit next to Anon on the train, you start to wonder if Anonymous is only being polite- mostly polite because he’s been lonely. 
>What happens when he reunites with his gang?
>For all you know, he’ll turn on you during the fieldtrip.
>You steal another glance at him.
>He peers back down at you.


>You pretend the floor of the train is more interesting.
>He’d never go that far.
>Right?
>Nopony else is going to your stop so it’s relatively quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the clacking of metal rolling over the tracks.
>You can’t help but nod off.
>You jump when Anon shapes you awake. 
>You fell asleep on his shoulder.
>In public.
“A-Anon I swear I wasn’t trying anything. I didn’t sleep well las-”
>”Cookies.” He interrupts smiling down at you reassuringly. 
>Right, his kind has no shame and don’t care about stuff like that. 
>It still doesn’t excuse what you did thou-
>“We’re here. Ohh, and it was good for me too,” he grins. 
>You collapse again in exhaustion and mental strain.
>Before long you and Anonymous are standing outside one of Equestria’s most notorious of prisons, Fetlock Penitentiary.
>You both agree to go to your dorm, take a hot bath, and sleep the evening off so you can get a nice fresh start in the morning.
>Several guards on duty salute you as you pass.


>At one point you have to pry Anonymous off the K-9 unit’s puppies. Whom all wag their tails and pile on him as he rolls around on the ground giggling like a mad pony.
>After a brief apology, you finally make it inside the building.
>Guards unfamiliar with Anonymous shoot you odd glances.
>A few worried ones for those that are as you take him to your room.
>You’re going to have to explain later.


----


>Be lean and green.
>You get up bright and early, stretching with a few audible pops.
>That sofa was way too small to sleep in comfortably. 
>You creep over to the bedroom.
>Cookies still seems to be out cold.
>You’d have figured her for an early bird.
>Searching for you must have taken a lot more out of her than she let on.
>Resisting the urge to cuddle the cute little horse awake, you decide to let her sleep in while you get ready and prepare breakfast.
>For all you know it’s a crime to skip the most important meal of the day in horseland.
>Oats and berries are an easy enough find, seeing as how she keeps everything neat and in order.
>You throw a small pot of water and kettle on the stove while you get acquainted with her kitchen a bit more.
>Flipping open one of the cupboards in search for tea, you find some coffee instead.
>You’re not sure how she likes coffee prepared, though you can probably guess with a lot of sugar.
>You leave the cream and sugar on the table anyways for good measure.
>While that’s going, you take the time to get dressed and ready to tackle the day. 
>Soon enough you hear the kettle go off, casually walking towards it to pour it in two mugs, before stirring the oats and pouring some into two bowls.
>Setting two bowls on the table, you creep back over to her room and gently nudge her awake.
>She groans and rolls over in response.


>Smirking, you crawl onto the bed.
”Come on, Sunshine,” you coo in her ear. ”We have a lot of prep to do today.”
>She stirs, turning to look at you, her groggy eyes slowly focusing on your grin.
>Panicking, she whinnies loudly and pushes you hard enough for you to fall backwards from her undersized bed, making a loud thump as you hit the floor.
>That could have been a lot worse if pony hooves didn’t feel like marshmallows. 
>She rushes to the edge of the bed, worry evident on her face.
>“A-Anonymous. I’m so sorry, I-”
>You can’t help but laugh at her expense. 
>Her face goes through a series of changes, from concern, to confused, to angry.
>If you go to jail for this, that cute pouty face you’ve missed so much makes this all worth it.
>”What were you doing on my bed?”
You put on the most unconvincing frown. ”I was just waking you up for breakfast. Then you assaulted me so savagely.”
>”B-breakfast?”
”T-tell my kids...”
>She starts to tremble and tear up. 
”Tell my kids... I’m sorry I never had them.” You play dead.
>You stay like that for a few seconds, waiting for the scolding that never comes.
>Sitting back up, you see her in a near paralytic state, staring at you with glazed over eyes.


>Maybe you pushed too far this time.
>Well, she’s awake.
”I’m fine, Cookies.”
>”T-that doesn’t change the fact that I-”
>You press a finger to her lips. 
>Being just a few mere millimeters from optimal booping position, you cause her to jump with a quiet eep.
”Hush now, and go eat your breakfast so you can get to work on time.”
>She scrunches her nose and pulls away, babbling like mad.
>Grinning, you walk back over to the kitchen.
”Look, to make it up to me,” you yell.  “You’re going to pretend you don’t hear me stealing cookies out of this Jar.” You reach in for them, piling a few in a paper napkin on her counter.
>”That’s a crime in ponyland, right? Stealing cookies out of jars?”
>She sighs and ignores you, sitting down on the table.
”What? I’m genuinely curious.”
>”Stealing cookies, or anything for that matter is a crime, Anon,” she deadpans.
“A shame I can’t steal you all up for myself then.”
>You can almost hear her cringe, as you wrap the cookies up and shove them into your pocket.
>You regret nothing.
>Turning around with two mugs in hand, you find Cookies giving you a very stern look.


>”Should I be keeping my eye on you today, Anon?”  
>You stare at her blankly for a moment. 
”How can I say no to a face like that?” you shrug. “But if I have to use level three swear words or get a little rough, you have to promise not to get in the way.”
>”Anonymous, I have a reputation to maintain.”
>”Cookies, I’m appalled. You know I’d never do anything to tarnish your reputation.”
>Setting the cups down, you take a sip and start guzzling the oats.
>Cookies winces as you down your coffee, but won’t bring up why.
”Try carrying a logbook or something so you can pretend overlook some things,” you suggest.
>She mulls it over while chewing. ”Fine.”
>Before long the both of you finish.
>You take care of the dishes while Cookies gets ready, being sure to grab her cap before she can and put it on.
”Wow, I’m rocking this,” you say, looking at a mirror stationed near near door.
>”Anonymous!” she snaps.
>You make a mad dash to the prison proper, with her a few feet behind.
>She must really like this hat.
>The cafeteria room hasn’t changed at all, still having the same nostalgic feel of of a typical grade school canteen.
>One notable difference is how there seems to be other mythical creatures here now.
>Spending most of your time in prison, you don’t know what most these other creatures even are, more the less how to interact with them.


>Still, ponies seem to dominate in terms of numbers.
>You definitely don’t go unnoticed by some of these other races as you scan the crowd, trying to spot anyone you actually know.
>An orange unicorn sporting a pencil behind his ear notices the commotion and waves you over.
>Sighing in relief you make a confident stride over to him.
>”B-boss! Ohh, A-and hello Ms. Officer Cookies and Cream, Ma’am.”
”I’m glad you’re still here, Jotter.”
>”Anonymous!” Cookies scolds. “What a rude thing to say.”
>Jotter’s eyes widen in fear. ”It’s okay, Ma’am. Boss means well by it.”
>He clears his throat.
”What? Ohh yeah. Sure.”
>”I’ve been keeping things in order since you left, boss,” he salutes.
>His curious eyes dart between you and Cookies before he takes note of your casual clothing.
>”O-ohh, you’re visiting?” he frowns. “It’s been really hard leading the crew on my own.”
>You sit down next to him, and cookied does much the same, placing her logbook onto the table.
>”Chaperoning for that field trip, actually. But don’t worry, I’ll take full responsibility of the gang while I’m around.”
>Cookies glances worriedly at you.
>“Who’s this weird creature hanging out with the cop, Jotter?” One orange suit speaks up, “He’s not even a grey suit!”
>Jotter jumps in his seat, “Please excuse him, Boss, he’s a newbie-”


>You hold up your hand signalling him to stop before extending it to the stallion, “Anonymous the human, at your service.” You give a warm smile, “Or rather, you’ll be in mine.”
>He grimaces and snorts.
”Rude. Is this the kind of behavior you encourage now, Cookies?” You pull your hand back.
>The mare, casually turns a page in her logbook.
>”Huhh?”
>You never thought you’d see her wear such a smug smile.
”Pleasantries later, I guess. Let’s walk and talk, Jotter.” 
>He glares at the stallion before getting up to follow you and Cookies out the door.
>“Don’t worry boss, I’ll bring them up to speed on how they should act around you.”
>”Sure, whatever. So who and what the fuck are all those other guys.”
>The stallion’s ears perk up at your swearing and he immediately distances himself from Cookies.
>Peering over to her, you see her still walking with that logbook in hoof.
>”Th-th-the other races?” Jotter mumbles, wary of Cookies.
> You nod, taking a sip from a juice box you snatched right under that orange suit’s nose.
>”W-well, after you came in and uhh... showed such promise, the warden started letting other races in too.” 
>”More like, you guys always covered his tracks or took the blame for him.” Cookies grumbles.
>”H-how’d you-”
>”Technicalities,” You interrupt.


>“W-well, There’s the minotaurs, gryphons, diamond dogs, breezies, crystal ponies, and we even have two teenage dragons now. At one point we even had some buffalo, and donkeys but they’ve done their time.” 
>”They all have their respective gangs, but don’t worry about it boss,” he says with great enthusiasm. “We’re under a sort of unofficial treaty. And since you’ll always be our boss, they won’t go out of their way to mess with you unless they want every other gang down their throat.”
”The question is, will they jump when I tell them to jump, Jotter. I heard they’ve been causing problems for the guards we’ve... befriended.”
>You turn to your guard companion who gives a nod. 
>Jotter cocks his head at you, and then at Cookies.
>You can only guess at what clicka in his head as he visibly relaxes, if only a little bit around the guard pony.
“And I want them to stop. Especially during the evaluation.”
>”Uhh well.” Jotter gulps, his legs trembling. ”S-somewhere along the line the other gang leaders decided they don’t need some spoilsports as friends and started picking on the guards. I-I didn’t want to have anything to do with it but I didn’t want to be called a goody two-shoes.”
>Horses.
>”Well, I guess it’s time I run everything again. Give me some intell, you say, tossing the now empty juice box into a nearby trash bin.
>Jotter purses his lips as he glances at Cookies again.
>”She’s cool.“
>He clears his throat, pulling out a notebook from who knows where.
>“Cornelian is a noble, really old timey being pretty much frozen for one thousand years. Has lots of wealth, but not especially up there in terms or brains or brawn. Practically got the dragons wrapped around her hooves. She’s in for being rude.”
>”The two dragons, Pyre and Scorch… they do whatever they want. Not to question your toughness boss, but unless you’re fire resistant, I suggest you do too.”
>Cookies seems to have taken some interest in the notebook he’s holding.
>You look down at her and shake your head, mouthing the word “Off limits,” earning another cute frown.
>Maximilian has been managing the underground figh- knitting club and makes sure to regulate fair trade in the… errm” he glances at Cookies. “Market.” In for stealing gems from a caravan.”


>”Noted.”
>”Roughwind is probably the most ruthless pony I’ve ever met. A-aside from you of course, boss. You’ll know him when you meet him. I can see you guys being very close friends. He’s in for assault and battery on a pegasus.“
>“Steel Nerves is a brave warrior himself. Old and not very smart but extremely wise. Nopony knows why he’s in prison.
>”Then there’s Grell, a real bad apple and only in the alliance because everypony else is. Here for illegal immigration and bullying locals.”
>You cough.
>Technically you’re still not a citizen, hopefully it never gets brought up.
>”Lastly, there’s myself, the information broker and gang leader for the ponies since they thought of me as pretty hard core for being your freind. O-of course I was just looking after them in your steed boss.”
>”And you’ve been doing a great job it seems. I’m impressed.”
>You chew on your lip a bit in thought.
>”Colorful bunch. I want to speak with them personally. Set up a meeting with them this lunch period and brief them as to why I’m here.”
>Jotter stops, and lifts the pencil behind his ear with his magic, noting it down. 
>”Can do, Boss.”
”Ohh,” you stop. “And be sure to get the garden club to send a bouquet to the warden. From me.”
>”Consider it done, boss.”
>”And...” you turn to look at him. “Great to see you again, Jotter.”
>He beams at you. “You too, boss!”
>”Cookies, you should probably go make your rounds. I’ll catch up with you after the meeting. 
>”Can’t I-”


>”No. It would be dangerous for the both of us.” More for her than you. “I promise you can join whatever it is I need to do afterwards. In the meantime, I have a date with the spa and jacuzzi.” 
>You wave her off and turn around.
>You’ve earned it too. Being the “boss” is a lot of effort after spending some time doing jackshit alone in the woods.
>”I’m putting a lot of trust in you, Anonymous.” You stop and turn towards her.
>”Have I ever done you wrong?”
>She looks as though she’s about to give you a mouthful but you interrupt.
>”Also, please I think we’re acquainted enough, just call me Anon... Are those puppies?” 
>The K-9 unit quickly notices you and panics, scrambling into each other before quickly changing their course into another corridor.
>You’ll be sure to make sure to make a quick detour.
>She gives you this look of preemptive regret before nodding. “Later, Anon.”

______


>Head just above the waterline, you make yourself comfortable in the jacuzzi.
>You swear the tub got bigger since you were last here.
>Just when you start to doze off Jotter bucks the door open, ever eager to get you where you need to go.
>If only you could enjoy these facilities in peace and quiet.
>Sighing, you get up to towel off.
>At this point you feel culturally enriched enough to be naked around the horses.
>As you throw your pants on, the door bursts open again.
>”Anonymous! Cookies and Cream said I might find you here.” You turn to see the source of a new voice, a bit irate from the sudden loud noises.
>Relaxing, you salute Lucent Law, who seems to be cradling her flowers.
>”These are wonderful, Anonymous. And I can’t thank you enough for volunteering to help.”
”It’s the least I can do, Lucy. After you spent all that time and effort helping me turn my life around,” you whimper, wiping a fake tear with the towel. “I really appreciate you never giving up on me, ma’am.” 
>She starts to choke back tears, failing miserably.
>”Cases like you make it all worth it, Anonymous,” she replied, wiping down tears of her own.
>She says that everytime you leave.
>Jotter nips and tugs on your pants leg. 
”Ohh, uhh. Listen. I’d love to catch up but I’m supposed to meet with some friends.”
>”O-okay, Anonymous,” she says, breaking down, the tears now pooling out of her eyes. ”You take care now.”
>You sigh in relief, thankful Jotter was there to pull you out of that mess.


>He leads you back to the cafeteria, in a far secluded corner, where it seems a red curtain is hung on a series of hooks on the ceiling for privacy. 
>Stepping inside, you gather stares from other other gang leaders. 
>”About time you showed up,” A female diamond dog grunts. You can’t really pin down who she is. 
>Jotter should have been more specific, but you can work with it.
”Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, making your way to the end of the table across from the Minotaur. 
>Roughwind, maybe. 
>As you sit, you glance to the extraordinarily shiny horse, whom has two dragons on either side of her.
>By extraordinarily, you mean she’s a lot more shiny than the other ones you saw around. 
>The specular lights coming off of her almost blind you.
>The dragons themselves don’t seem as feral and hostile as you thought they’d be, and seem to be content just sitting there looking imposing.
>Figures. 
>A red suit pony slides a tray with baked chicken and tuna casserole with peas right in front of you, before backing off without a word.
>You nod to him in thanks.
>They must have meals catered to carnivores now because of those dogs, winged lizards, and catbirds.
>The tiny insect horse seems to be screaming obscenities at you in some other language, pulling your attention back.
”Fellas. I know you’ve been excited to meet me, but we have more pressing matters.”
>”Yes, Sir Jotter mentioned you aim to reunite the inmates under one banner,” the crystal pony at the table replies.
Judging from her proper accent and formality, she must be Cornelian.
”Yes. Under me. Did he mention that part?”
>It causes some angry glances to be thrown your way.


”That doesn’t mean I’m going to strip you of power. You’ll still have your gangs. You’ll just answer to me for the next two days.” 
>“Jotter still may be loyal to you Anonymous, but you can’t just walk in here and expect everything to be as it was before.” The minotaur lectures. 
>He’s had a calculating look about him, this whole time so far.
>“We’re going to need something to go off of, Monkey boy. Excuse the language, Max, but from the rumors I’ve heard. He seems to enjoy being the guard’s lapdog.” Grell adds in a thick Slav accent.
>They love you already.
”For good reason, my feathered comrade. I assure you it puts all of our best interests at heart, if you’d let me explain the-”
>The loud little bug horse flies over to you and points a threatening hoof at your chest.
>The Stallion next to you gasps in horror.
>Whatever that little bug is saying makes the others wince as well. 
>You look to Jotter questioningly.
>”R-Roughwind says, “Spare me the lecture, if you want to order me around, you need to have the guts to back it up. Beat me in hoof to hoof combat or go crawl back where you came from, f-f-”” 
>He hesitates, “Ffffff.”
>”F-f-f-f.”
>”Faggot.”
>After translating he quickly covers his own mouth and looks away from you in shame. 
>That’s Roughwind? Then the Minotaur must be Steel Nerves.
>Seems easy enough, though he has quite a mouth on him.
>You’ve never heard anyone in Equestria talk shit like that.


>You didn’t think it was possible.
”Sure, I’ll take anyone at this table on. You want to go right now, little guy?”
>”Very bold,” Grell comments, cracking an amused smile.
>”If you’re still standing after Roughwind’s beating, Anonymous. What say you take me on as well?” Steel Nerves says.
>”Tartarus. Count me in too then,” Grell smirks.
>The four of you stand, sizing each other up.
>Jotter and the two girls visibly panic.
>The Diamond dog jumps up on the table, trying to pry Roughwind off of you.
>”Hold on guys, Cool it,” she barks.
>The two ponies sigh in relief.
>”See, if you’re going to fight, do it in the arena so I-” She clears her throat. “We can make some currency off it.”
>”Really, Maximilian?” Cornelian starts.
>”This is exactly our problem,” she huffs, “I don’t mind when you gentlemen get a bit rough, but until you brutes grow up and stop throwing yourselves at the hoofs of anypony who can make you kiss the floor. Let me know.” 
>She gets up and leaves, snout pointed high.
>A problem? You’ll have to ask about that later.
”Think about what I said, at least.” you call out. ”Ohh, and be sure to come watch me win! I’ll get you a front row seat.”
>No reply. 


>”Sorry the meeting didn’t go to well, boss,” Jotter mumbles, still looking [spoiler]downtrotten.[/spoiler]
”Don’t worry about it. Go fetch Cookies and wait for me by the cafeteria door,” you whisper as you lean over to Jotter.
>He nods and leaves.
>”Geez, that crystal pony really needs to learn how to loosen up,” Grell grumbles. “She’s been a real stick in the mud lately.”
>Maximilian hops down onto her chair. “Who cares, we have planning to do.” 
>“Overconfident civilian versus current black suit champion.” She says with a glint in her eye.
>Ouch.
>”How about, “ Returning Champion versus Reigning Champion.” to build the hype a little more. Besides, overconfidence implies I don’t have the expertise to back it up.”
>“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” She leans back in her chair, chuckling in amusement.
>Roughwind mentions something, making Grell chuckle.
>Steel Nerves sighs and starts to head out, making you reel back a bit in surprise. “I’m going to go warm up.” 
>This guy looks a lot more intimidating at full height.
>Hopefully he “fights” like a pony.
>“We should all get a move on. We do this during nap time, boys.”
”I’ll do that. Later, Maxie.”
>She nods making no remark against your little nickname.

________________


>Stepping out, you can hear Cookies and Jotter silently arguing about something, while three random ponies you don’t know sit and observe. 
>”But- B-boss! There’s no way we can bring Cookies to the knitting club.”
>You turn the the guard, smiling at her, making her visibly tense up.
“We need to disguise her.”
>”What?” she asks, with a bemused face.
”I made a promise, didn’t I?” You remind her. “I always keep my promises to cute mares.”
>She frowns at you. “I can’t be out of my uniform during my shift, Anon.”
”Sure you can. Jotter, Get the fashion club into your room. Also, if someone asks about Cookies missing get some cannon fodder to cause some kind of distraction.”
>He nods, writing it down, before huddling up with his lackeys.
>”I hope you’re not bullying those ponies into doing stuff for you, Anon.”
”Of course not. What kind of savage do you take me for?” you defend. “They like doing things for me. Right boys?”
>One stallion pops his head up, “S-sure, Boss!” 
>They group then breaks off hastily scattering in different directions.
>”Hey, no running in-”
“See? Taken care of. Now let’s go,” you interrupt.
>She groans.
>”Unbelievable...”
>Soon enough you meet the fashion club who are in the middle of setting things up.


>They aren’t really in your gang, but they are under your gang’s protection in return for fashion related favors.
>Literal protection. From bugs and stuff.
>”Ladies.” You smile. 
>A mare in a red suit walks up to you. “Anon, do you need a quick haircut?”
>Before you stands the only mare in the entirety of Equestria who can style human hair right.
>”Sure, Razor. I want to look good for my fight.”
>”With looks like that, you have nothing to worry about, Anon,” she flirts. “I just wish you wouldn’t get into so much trouble.”
>”You and me both,” Cookies quietly comments.
>Smiling at the mare, you sit down in a tiny cushion while you watch the other girls play dress up with the guard.
>After putting her in a black suit, they tie Cookie’s mane back, before throwing on black beanie and pink hoodie on.
>They toss her uniform into Jotter’s closet, then start applying make-up over her cutie mark.
>They try to ask her what she likes, leaving her in a stumbling mess.
>”Make it a giant lizard stomping through a city,” you chuckle.
>”Okay, Anon!”
>Cookies doesn’t even retort this time, too overwhelmed with the situation.
>”I hope you ladies don’t go around gossiping about this.”
>Cookies looks to the mares in worry. 
>”Our lips are sealed,” Razor reassures. 


>Before long, Your haircut and the new metal as fuck cutie mark are done. 
>”You girls have done a wonderful job. Thank you all.”
>They all come up to hug you before packing their stuff and leaving as quickly as they came. 
>You turn to Cookies, who shifts uncomfortably in her hoodie, frowning up a storm.
>Resisting the urge to snuggle her right then and there you pull out your sunglasses.
”Just needs one last touch,” you say, placing them on her face.
”You’ll fit in great.”
>”A-are you sure?” 
>You nod and pick her up under your arm, making your way to the knitting club.

http://i.imgur.com/azEQpN5.png
Picture very related.

>Opening the door, before you is an actual knitting club.
>Middle aged mares, sewing machines, yarn balls, the whole shebang.
You drop your smile. ”Where’s the cool fighting ring we built, Jotter?”
>He trembles at the tone of your voice. ”I-it’s gone. But we have a replacement, o-over there, boss!”
>He walks over to the corner of the room and raps the floor in a very rhythmic pattern.
>Seconds later, a diamond dog’s head pops out of a hidden hatch.
>Looks like the underground fighting ring is literally underground now. 
>You have to hand it to the diamond dogs, that’s pretty badass.
>”’Ey Jotta.” He turns to you and Cookies snarling. “Who‘r deze two gits?”
>”Anonymous. He’s the competitor.”
>”What about ‘er.” He points to Cookies. Causing her and Jotter, alike to panic, looking pleadingly up to you.
>You look back over to her new cutie mark again. 
”Gojira, my master. Highly skilled in the art of snugglefu.” 
>You press fist against palm and bow deeply to Cookies.
>Cookies stares dumbfoundedly at you, a tint of pink hitting her cheeks in embarrassment.
>”Hmm. Somefin oddly familiar ‘bout ‘er smell,” he sniffs.
>Cookies takes a step back. 
”How many brands of shampoo does Equestria have?” You shrug.


>”Dats not what I-”
”Ahh the cookie smell. You see, we use it to make our calorie quota during the off season. I had to eat a whole bunch of them earlier so I could qualify for the weigh-in.” you say, taking the cookies you were saving out of your pocket, tossing them to him. “You can have the rest.”
>He smiles and pockets them himself.
>”Thanks, but ain’t you foitin’ a breezy?” 
>Fuck.
>He pauses for a second. ” Bahh, neva mind.”
>vanishing back down the hole, he makes way for your trio to pass.
”Master Gojira, your most loyal and handsome pupil awaits you.”
>”A-Anon, w-whyyy.”
>The tunnel itself is very shallow, rows of dangling lanterns lining the ceiling.
>A minotaur would have a hell of a time getting through.
>It’s a bit of a crouch and squeeze, even for you.
>At the end of the tunnel, you’re greeted with a massive underground cavern with a gladiatorial fighting pit as the centerpiece. 
>Off on the sides there are a few adobe-like structures jutting out from the walls. 
>In the pit there’s a low elevated section that protrudes into the arena itself, the ideal seat for those who want to feel like they’re there with the fighters. 
>You notice a golden encrusted throne seated near the edge, an impressive bell one might find in a church right behind.
>You smile at the sight before you. 
>It couldn’t have been easy digging this place out and getting it up and running it in the span of two weeks.


>”How?”
>Looking down to Cookies, you can see she’s completely stunned at the sight before her.
>You didn’t think it was that cool.
>”H-how could I let this slip right past me?”
”Right? It’s fantastic. Maxie damn near turned my secret club into an empire!”
>”Maximillian? She’s behind this?” Cookies sneers, raising her voice.
“Now, now, Master. You’d hate to blow both our covers before things got fun, right?”
>She sighs, ears splaying back. 
>”You’re right. Let’s just… get this over with.”
”Good pony. Jotter, care for a quick tour?”
>He blinks at you for a moment. 
>”... Yeah, sure boss. Over there to the right, there’s a small clinic to patch up minor ouchies.” 
>You snicker. 
>As immature as it is, you can’t take anyone seriously when they use words like ouchie and boo-boo.
>”...Any bigger and we bring them up and chalk it down to a falling related accident.”
>”Over there” He points to the left of the Arena. ”The cooking club comes down to make a few bits. One building sells, drinks and the other sells food. They’ll come down with trays during fights too.”
>”And the last one to the far corner is a souvenir shop, ran by a partnership between Maximilian’s pack and the knitting club upstairs.”
”Why didn’t I ever think of that? I want a scarf with my face on it.” 


>”They’ll be making them soon once you win, boss,” he grins. 
>Jotter then stomps his hoof. “Below us is hollowed out. The locker rooms are connected to the fighting pit. We should head dow-”
>“Look who actually showed up. Good to see ya, Anonymous.” 
>You turn to see Maximilian waving you over.
”I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Maxie. And please, Anon will do.”
>”You’d be surprised how many convicts talk a big game before dropping out once the jitters get to them” she chuckles. “Nevermind that, almost all bets on Roughwind so far so I came personally to encourage you.”
>You feel absolutely insulted.
”I’m flattered.”
>”You’re going to be a rich… whatever you are if you win. But if you don’t, at least keep on your paws as long as you can to keep the crowd excited. Good for business.” 
>You’re going to need to teach her the lovely art of rigged fights one of these days.
“I don’t plan on losing.”
>She gives you a curt nod, before making her way to her seat.
>You envy this dog.
>You’d also really like to give her tummy rubs. 
>For another time, maybe.
>You nudge jotter with your knee.
”Be sure to have everyone in the gang pool together bits, gems, and pudding to bet on me. No reason we can’t all have a little extra spending cash after this to keep the morale going.”
>”Very thoughtful of you, Boss. Come on, let’s get you backstage.”


>Jotter guides you down to the locker room, where he and another unicorn pull off your shirt and wrap your hands in bandages.
>”Alright, boss. Same rules as before, three rounds, anything goes until one of you taps out, says uncle, cries, or when the time’s up.”
”Got any info on the breezy?”
>”Yeah, boss. Roughwind was separated from his kind and couldn’t return. Had to fend for himself out in the wilds to survive. He’s a vicious one and will probably fight dirty.”
>You nod.
>It’s hard to formulate what fighting dirty means in pony land.
>”He has a lot of endurance and is very good at dodging, often winning fights on tougher opponents solely on that. Take him out quick before he gets to make use of it.”
>He stops and thinks. “Ohh yeah, don’t let him make you lose your cool, either boss. He’s got a real potty mouth.”
>You groan as the other unicorn starts to digs her marshmallow hooves into your traps.
”No worries, I can’t even understan-”


----


>”On the left corner...” You hear an announcer speak.
>”That’s my que.”
>You run out, clinging onto the iron portcullis keeping you caged in, rattling it and earning a gasp from the crowd.
>”Weighing in at… uhh. He’s a…” 
>You look to see who’s speaking. 
>A griffon in a referee getup with a megaphone. 
>”Well... we don’t really have anything on him. He’s not even technically an inmate...” he says with a nasally monotone voice.
>You could do way better than this guy.
>You make due and throw yourself out there anyways, lifting your arms in the air to draw attention.
>Jeers and boos from the onlookers are all you get.
>They’ll warm up to you. 
>”On the right corner, the toughest, meanest contender in Equestria, weighing in at one fourth a pound. Roughwind,” he yells, a little less bland. 
>It could still use some work.
>You do a little footwork, punching the air to limber up before the other portcullis slowly lifts.
>How did they even get those down here?
>Out comes the little Breezy.
>He sways in a zigzag pattern headed right for you.
>...


>Agonizingly slow, you might add.
>You put your defences down and stand there, looking around awkwardly as you wait.
>The referee goes over to the bell and rings it, making the diamond dogs closest to it wince and cover their ears.
>You chuckle at the flawed design and the whole ridiculousness of the situation.
>”Should I meet you halfway?” you call out, looking back to Roughwind.
>He screams at you again.
>You scratch the back of your neck in confusion and look to the ref, who shrugs.
>How are you supposed to fight this guy anyways? 
>The last thing you want to do is accidentally squish him.
>Maybe just one swat out of the air will do.
>You make a mad dash for him, thrusting your hip for good leverage as you swing your arm in a wide horizontal arch right at him.
>He narrowly dodges the blow, seemingly dancing past your hand.
>You skid to a halt as he swings upwards from under your arm, kicking you in the eye with all his might.
>His hit earns a collective “Ooooo” from the crowd.
>You grunt, clasping a hand over your eye as you stumble back in shock.
>It wasn’t too hard, but your eye waters from the contact.
>You look to the smirking bug with your one good eye.
>He points a hoof at you and says something.


”I’m not crying. You’re crying.”
>Real mature. 
>Wait, you didn’t really understand that.
>Or did you?
>You peer over to the Referee and immediately back to you opponent.
>If the referee catches your eye watering this much he might chalk it down to crying and you’ll have to forfeit.
>Roughwind really is fighting dirty.
>Luckily, the first bell rings before he can take advantage of your stunned state and you make your way to your side of the arena, the portcullis lifting just enough for your crew to get through.
>You quickly snatch the water from the redsuit waterboy and squeeze it into your eye, the grey suit patting you down with the towel.
>Jotter grimaces when he sees your eye and comes up, gently cradling your face in his hooves, gently turning it whichever way to check for any more damage. 
>“You hurting, boss?”
>The waterboy squirts some water directly into your mouth, which you spit out onto the dirt.
”Just my pride, Jotter.”
>The Referee flies over and lands next to Jotter. 
>“Your eye’s bloodshot, you good to continue?”
”Yeah.”
>He looks at you skeptically, making you and your companions visibly tense up.
>”If you say so,” he says before flying off.


>Your group, including you signs in unison.
>”I know you got this, boss. Just give ‘em the old one-two.” Jotter encourages.
>As soon as the bell sounds off, you sprint across the arena directly at your foe.
>Your defences go up as you near him, keeping on your toes as you inch closer.
>Surprised that you’re still in the fight, he wastes no time, flying overhead to make another quick dive at you.
>You dodge with little effort, easily pivoting out of the way.
>He swings back around and you easily jump back, the blow just grazing your stomach.
>He is fairly easy to dodge himself, his attacks seeming to only consist of swinging arcs.
>Digging your heels into the ground, you brace yourself.
>He takes the bait and tries another aerial attack.
>It feels like a light tap to the face.
>Snorting in his direction as he hits, his balance wavers.
>Interesting.
>Seizing the opportunity, you start trying to swipe at him in a multitude of angles, but he weaves and rolls just out of reach every time you come close.
>It’s as if the force of your punches are propelling him away from you.
>Before long the second bell rings and you sit in your side of the ring.
>”I-I think you got him on the ropes boss,”Jotter encourages, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than anything.
>The rest of the crew shake their heads in disagreement.


“Glad I have all of your undivided support,” you drone.
>With the last chime signalling the final round, you stand, talking a deep breath as you walk on over to the breezy.
>With a low stance, you hold your arms out.
>Seeing you defenceless, he goes in for another predictable aerial strike.
>Blowing gently in his direction to throw him off balance again, you carefully bringing a hand down over him, the other coming up to catch his lithe form in your hands.
>Who knew catching fireflies as a kid would save your ass in prison.
>Getting a good hold on him, he struggles, yelling obscenities at you.
>You apply some pressure making him look as pissed as ever. 
>A little more and you finally get him to shut up.
“Say it.”
>He stares defiantly at you.
>A little more.
>Sweat runs down his muzzle.
>More.
>You see him visibly start to panic.
“Just one word,” you grin.
>Tiny bit more.
>He screams something and the ref comes over and tries to pry him out of your grasp, raising your left arm in the air, much to the dismay of the crowd.


>You laugh and start jumping in place.
>Who knew (almost) squishing a bug could feel so satisfying. 
>Looking down, you see him on the floor staring angrily at you.
”No hard feelings?”
>He gives you a calculating glare before flying back onto your face, causing you to stumble back and fall.
>The Referee immediately tries to pry him of your face, but you stop him.
>The both of you are engaged in a totally nohomo broiest of brohugs.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.
>When he lets go he makes himself comfortable on your shoulder as you make your way back.
>Jotter comes back out with two diamond dogs holding a stretcher, first aid horses, Cookies, Grell, and Steel in tow.
>”Boss, don’t worry, we’re going to get you to the clinic above ground,” Jotter cries. 
>”What?” you ask, being poked and proded by little first aid horses.
>”How could, you push him over like that?” Cookie scolds. “Wasn’t the eye enough?”
>Roughwind waves her off with a dismissive scoff and remark.
>From underneath the sunglasses you recognize her well used signature “You’re going to be in time out for a long time” glare, which means she’s going to blow both your covers, logic be damned.
>She’s probably going to hate you after this, maybe even arrest you.
>A promise is a promise though.
>You quickly scoop her up and cradle in your arms like a child as you make your way down to the locker rooms.


>Her ears lean back as she stares blankly at you, cream white fur draining of color somehow.
>You smile down at her. 
>The others are filing back down behind you, so you make your way into one of the doors in the back of the locker rooms.
>Showers. 
>They even got plumbing down here? 
>You’re going to have to ask Maxie about getting actual plumbing yourself for your little get away cottage. 
“Roughwind, a few minutes of privacy?”
>He’s so light you almost forgot about him.
>Disappointed, he hops off your shoulder, fluttering away.
>Seems like the little guy might be the innocent horse equivalent of a voyeur.
>You hum a soothing tune to cookies, rocking her in your arms.
>Life sparks back into her eyes.

_______


>Be an undercover cop.
”A-A-Anonymous. I order you to put me down,” You sputter out, feeling your anger rise. 
>You kick your legs out and try to turnover in his arms, but to no avail.
>His claws are made for grasping. 
>”Not until you calm down.”
”Anon!” you yell.
>What has gotten into Anonymous?
>”How do you expect me to calm down w-when-”
>He’s always been bad, but he’s never done anything this humiliating.
>He lifts his claw up towards you, same as this morning.
>Cold sweat drips down your muzzle.
”A-Anon. D-don’t. You won’t get away with-”
>You tremble in his grasp, closing your eyes as far as they’ll go.
>The hoo-man is strong.
>The only thing you can do is hope he’s at least somewhat gentle, as you defensively curl up, tail clenched down tightly against your back.
>One of his phalanges flick your beanie up a little.
>”You’re going to have to keep a lid on it, officer. You almost got us into a lot of trouble,” he scolds, trying to imitate you.
>Your eyes widen, heart pounding through your chest.


”A-anon. Y-you’re really pushing your luck.”
>He smiles at you, completely unphased, and holds you in arm’s length with ease.
>”I know you worry a lot, but you know more than anyone in this facility… aside from Jotter that I don’t get hurt easily. Think of it like... me getting what’s coming to me for giving you so much trouble.”
>Your anger instantly dissipates into concern.
>Does he think he’s exempted of your protection because of old silly rivalries?
>At least you hope they’ll be old once this deal is over with.
”Anon, even though you shouldn't be, you’re a free hoo-man and I brought you back in here. You’re still my responsibility and I can’t stand the thought of anypony getting boo-boos on my behalf.” You shift in his grasp.
>On que, he openly chortles when you say “boo-boo”.
>You can’t help but shudder.
>How violent and monstrous does a culture have to be where laughing at injury is a norm?
>You hope the kind of company you meet won’t turn around and buck you when you’ve finally saved up enough to open a bakery.
”Now could you get your claws off of me?” you scold.
>He chuckles, setting you down.
>”Let’s go see the others.”
>The both of you make your way back out.
>You cock you head in confusion when you spot Grell and Steel play that minotaur game.
>Rock-paper-scissors, you think it’s called. 
>You’ve never seen it in person, but you heard from Warden Lucent that it’s often used as a method of gambling.


>”Aha! Rock beats scissors.”
>You wince.
>”You cheat!” Steel roars, slamming his fist into the bench.
>”Seeing who gets to square off with me first?” Anon interjects, cutting right in-between the tension.
>”Are you even sure you’re alright with continuing, Hoo-man?” Steel snorts, rubbing his hand.
”Yeah, A- My pupil. Remember, you can always win fights without ever throwing a punch.”
>This gains the attention of everyone else.
>He raises a brow, “Really, master?”
”Yes! Walking away and staying safe is always better than getting hurt.”
>Everyone in the room, save for Steel Nerve laughs at you.
>The old steer narrows his eyes at you putting you on edge.
>”She always had a good sense of humor,” Anon starts. “Like that time she asked young Timmy if he was doing well, then push him down one before he could answer.”
>The laughing stops, save for Anon. 
>”Woah. That’s brutal,” Grell comments.
>”Hmm, Every black suit makes himself known at some point, and I’ve never heard of you.” Steel nerves mentions, looking down on you.
>You nudge the laughing hoo-man, hoping he at least heard the remark.
>”Ohh, yeah. My master,” he chuckled wiping a tear from his eyes. “She transferred here this afternoon because she held the warden in the prison upstate hostage and demanded it so she could see how my training was progressing.”
>Everypony looks to you in either fear or admiration.


>Anonymous has never been one for subtlety but this time you wish he could tone it down.
>”Ha! Maybe we should make this a tag team effort,” Grell suggests. 
>Steel glares at the Griffon. “Odd, I’ve never seen you eager to pick a fight unless you were sure you’re going to win.”
>The griffon flies up and wraps a foreleg around the old steer. “With you, Steel, I am sure.”
>The old bull snorts again as he puffs out his chest pridefully.
>You know this spells trouble. 
>Steel is usually the most tame out of the black suits, until he gets his ego stroked.
>It’s not a huge problem when you have reliable backup and Anonymous is a big wildcard.
”Anon?”
>”If it’s all the same to you, master,” he bows. “It would be dishonorable to have you fight my battles for me. And I’d hate for you to get your sunglasses scratched.”
>He’s not letting you help because of some dumb glasses?
>”So be it. Let’s get to our side of the ring,” The old Minotaur says, pointing a threatening finger at grell. “And be sure to stay out of my way if you know what’s good for you.” 
>”Wouldn’t think of it,” the bird chuckles.
>While the rest getting prepared, it’s only you and Roughwind.
>You shot him an awkward smile.
>”How about we go watch the fight?”
>”Aye, sure. Ah need tae make sure 'at bawbag lookin’ ‘hing doesn’t lose efter winnin' against me,” he answers, making himself snug in the fold on your beanie.
>The announcement starts when you make it to the upper level of the colosseum.


>It seems there are no available seats, so you settle on standing near the hoof-rail.
>”Hey, mare. Could you get out of the way?” you hear a deep threatening voice say.
>You quickly turn around and see Silver Tongue; a younger, slimmer minotaur inmate sporting a drinking hat and baseball glove.
>His eyes widen when he notices Roughwind, “W-what I mean is, you don’t need to stand there,” he backpedals, roughly pushing the ponies seated at his side to make some room.
>“Plenty of room here.”
>You hesitate, but plop down next to him.
>Anon runs out, this time with a shirt on.
>He nears the edge of the Arena, gaining cheers from the crowd.
>Tearing off his shirt in an amazing feat, he balls it up and clumsily dropkicks it.
>It’s headed in your direction!
>You jump up trying to grab at it, But Silver, being much taller than you easily snatches it in his glove.
>You frown, not really knowing why.
>You don’t really have use for a minotaur-like shirt and you shouldn’t even be here.
>Silver notices your expression and hands the shirt to you. “I don’t need a broken shirt, and it was headed for you anyways.”
”Thank you, Silver Tongue. That’s very nice of you.”
>”Wait, I never told you my-”
>He’s interrupted by a bone chilling roar coming from the arena.
>You turn in time to spot the hulking minotaur launch himself at Anon at a speed incredible for his size and age, Grell circling the lone hoo-man while distracted.


>Your eyes beg to be torn away from the sight but you can’t help but stare as the cocky hoo-man takes a low abrasive stance instead of moving out of the way.
>Grell seems to stand by.
”I don’t get it. He was moving so gracefully before. Why won’t he move?”
>”Paralyzed by fear?” Silver says, more of a question than a statement as he clenches onto his own tail in suspense. 
>”E better be puttin' oan some kin' a show ur i'll mess ‘em up.”
>Steel Crashes into Anon, his momentum pushing the hoo-man back a few hooves. 
>You have no idea how, but Anon seems to have held his ground.
>Like the blinding speed of a viper, Anon’s claws whip out and grab at Steels nipnips, giving them a sharp twist.
>Steel drops to his knees, gripping tightly on Anon’s fetlocks(?)
>You can hear the whimpers of agony from where you’re sitting.
>The griffon starts to break his serious look, falling to the ground in hysterics as he taps out.
>To your disappointment, Anon seems to be fighting back a laugh as well, a reminder that he’s still not completely trustworthy.
>Steel shakily pushes himself up, his eyes glossed over as he sees Anon extend a claw to him.
>Snorting angrily, he gets up on his own and limps back, caressing his chest.
>Wait, wasn’t he supposed to make friends with them?
>You hope that was all apart of Anon’s [spoiler]master plan[/spoiler].



http://i.imgur.com/yajErqv.png



>Be a green titty twister machine. 
>Steel being angry at you for winning definitely wasn’t part of your plan. 
>You rub your own chest in discomfort from the impact. 
>”Hoo-man, that was amaz-” Grell stops and clears his throat. ”About time Steel’s been knocked down a few pegs.” There is visible strain, as he tries to suppress anymore laughter.
“You liked that? I call it the mega squeezy nippie twisty 3000™.”
>He regards you with a look of adoration.
>… Or it could just be amusement. 
>Though, regarding you it’s probably adoration.
>”You… name all of your moves?” he snickers.
“It’s very therapeutic… So we’re cool then?” 
>”Hmm… I-”
>A diamond dog, much bigger than the ones you’ve seen so far, blocks your path.
>”Anonymous, Max wants you in ‘er office. Now.”
>You glance to Grell, the two of you shrug and nod to the diamond dog.
>”Anonymous only,” he rumbles, squaring off his shoulders.
>Grell sniffs and rushes forward, inches from his muzzle, feathers ruffled to make himself look more intimidating.
>”What if Anonymous doesn’t want to?” he sqwaks.
>You cough in your hand, catching both of their attention.


”I’ll catch up with you later, Grell. I wanted to ask her about a few things while I’m down here.”
>Maybe scratch her behind the ears too, but that’s besides the point.
>Surprisingly, Grell backs down.
>”Fine, we’ll continue this talk in my club. Meet me by the big oak tree in the playground when you’re done,” he flies up to match your height and whispers into your ear. “The secret password is ‘pinenut.’”
>You nod in understanding.
>You start to muse what kind of club a griffon would have.
>If there’s a secret password, then it has to be something illicit though.
>You hope it’s a cuddle brothel. 
>When met with the door, the lumbering diamond dog opens the door and ushers you in.
>Inside you are met with a generously furnished office, a reminder of your little getaway home.
>There’s an oddly familiar painting with diamond dogs playing poker sitting as a centerpiece that catches your attention. 
“Hey, Maxie.”
>”Ahh, good. You’re here,” Maxie says, as she slowly counts through a generous sum of bits on her table.
>She reaches under her desk and strains, as she pulls out a hefty sack of assorted riches, making your jaw drop in surprize.
>With a loud thud, it hits the table.
>”Try not to drool on the rug.”
>You nod and reach out for it, causing her to pull it back just out of reach. 
>”I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I threw in a little extra here.”


>You nod, completely at a loss for words, not something that happens often.
>”I want to say there’s no strings attached, but It’d be a shame to lose an asset as… interesting as you.” 
>She wants your body.
>Giving you a sky wink, she continues, “I’d like you to see it as incentive to keep working with me here.”
>Well, it’s not polite to keep a girl waiting.
>You shoot her a sultry grin and reach out over the table to scratch her behind the ears.
>She quickly reels back and pulls out a spray from a drawer in her desk.
>Mace?
>You cringe back,throwing your arms in front of your face. 
>These black suits seem to all be a step crazy above the rest of the inmates.
>Talking a better look at the apparel in her hand with one squinted eye, you can see that it’s just a water sprayer.
>Slowly, you let your guard down and sigh in relief.
>”You almost had me there for a second,” you chuckle.
>Her snout twitches in uncertainty. 
>“I think we have a misunderstanding, Anonymous. I want you to fight for me,” she says, aiming the spray directly at your face. ” You would live a very comfortable life as long as you remember your place.”
>Trying to not look too dejected, you reach out to the large sack, and take a fair amount of bits from it, pushing the rest of the bag back to her, making her furrow her brow.
>”I don’t think you understand, Anonymous. I can make your stay here very uncomfortable if you don’t-”
>”Relax, I didn’t deny your offer yet. I have a proposition for you.”


>She cocks her head.
”I’d like to invest in your business and have a limited co-partnership. Just for the fighting pit.”
>She looks at you dumbly.
”...I’ll fight for you in the near future and help you build this place up better. In return, I just want thirty percent of the profits. ”
>She purses her lips in thought. 
>”Ten percent.”
”...Ten for now. Hook me up with some plumbing for my house and we’ll make that fifteen only if you're satisfied with my results.”
>She gives you a long hard stare, before spinning around on her chair mumbling to herself.
>Slowly she turns around and reaches her paw out towards you, which you do in return, giving her a firm shake.
>”Deal.”
”Fantastic.”
>”I’ll have my secretary write up the necessary documents,” she mumbles, reaching for a tiny bell on her desk.
”Wait.” you say holding out a flat palm. “You’re the one circulating all the contraband that’s been going around lately, right?”
>She grunts, ”Yes.”
”I don’t suppose you know what they’re planning?”
>”Could care less. As long as I get my money.” She leans back and puts her heels up on her desk. 
>You open your mouth you ask another question, before being interrupted.
>”I’m not going to sell out my customer either. Bad for business.”


>Customer?
>As in one buyer?
>That makes things a lot easier.
You shoot her a warm smile and stand up. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer, I’ll sign the papers when you have them ready, partner.”

_______


>Heading back at a brisk pace, you feel worry creeping up on you.
>Cookies seemed to be really upset with Roughwind.
>And you left them together.
>Alone.
>Stationed guard dogs point you in the right direction. 
>Luckily they’re around or you’d never find your way back.
>One last turn out of a seemingly arbitrary side tunnel, you find your crew huddled up by a corner, in front of the locker room.
>Jotter’s ears perk up once he notices you and he silently beckons you over.
>Cocking your head in confusion, you creep up to the corner and edge forward as much as you can, without being spotted.
>A bustling crowd of lower rank ponies- your ponies, encircle Cookies and Roughwind.
>”Say, could to teach me to be that tough? I’ll do whatever you say.” A stallion begs the disguised guard. 
>You recognize him as the rude orange suit from earlier this morning.
>Cookies tilts her sunglasses up, lazily looking him up and down.
>She snorts, “Not interested.”
>Roughwind points a hoof at him, chirping something in a harsh mocking tone, causing him to cry and run away.
>You suppress the urge to lunge out at the stallion and throw him into one of these lockers.
>The little breezy bumps hooves with Cookies.
>It seems she’s made quick friends with your new, most violent gang member.


>”Please?” A meek looking stallion throws himself at her hooves. “He’s got Jotter and the other red suits pushing us around. I was even ordered to gamble! We have families that we want to get back to.”
>Jotter jumps in place and tries to move in for damage control, but you stop him, pressing a hand on his chest.
>He looks up at you questioningly and you mouth, “names” making writing gesture with your hands.
>He nods in affirmation. 
>”A-and I bet you could beat that scary hyoo-men up,” a mare says in a hushed tone.
>”That’s Hoo-man to you, mare,” Cookies corrects “Besides, the master thing is more out of respect. He’s gone his own way and improved greatly. My work here is done,”.
>She’s starting to really get into character.
>If amusement didn’t outweigh the concern, you’d probably do something about it.
>The mare bows her head and edges back with a whimper as Cookies hits her with one of her best glares.
>In fact, the glare seems to set off an aura of unnerving fear to all the ponies within light of sight.
>You’ve never felt so betrayed.
>A primal growl escapes you as you hurl yourself forward, [spoiler]gently[/spoiler] pushing through the crowd of panicked ponies. 
>Your very presence was the last straw on the hoses back, each of them, save for Cookies, running around in a full blown panic.
>The traitorous ponies whinny in fear as they’re [spoiler]not[/spoiler] mercilessly thrown aside.
>You easily reach over and lift Cookies up from the mess of rowdy ponies.
>She yelps in surprise as you press her close, storming off whilst grumbling under your breath.
>Only you get to have Cookies’ best glares. 


>You’ve helped her hone it over the year you’ve been friends.
>Sharing something so cherished hardly sits right with you. 
>She relaxes a little, deeming herself safe in your arms but still fidgets uncomfortably. 
>Those ponies will sleep well tonight knowing that you didn’t confront them directly.
>Not yet, anyways.
>”Anon,” Cookies whimpers in a hushed tone. “Thanks… That was really dangerous.”
“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you growl.
>She looks up at you, smiling warmly. ”...Maybe I would have been okay, but it was nice of you to have my back. You too Roughwind.”
>The little guy scoffs at her again, displaying a smug grin.
>The look she gives you only warms your heart.
>Maybe you can forgive and let her off the hook just this once.
>...
>Nah.

_______


>Now above ground, everyone split off to go do their own thing and once again, you’re left alone with Cookies. 
>Your posture is still a bit hunched as you storm out of the knitting club.
>”Anon, are you okay?” Cookies asks, now trailing beside you. “I don’t think I ever saw you that upset before.”
>You raise a brow at her.
”Yeah. Just a bit winded from getting hit in the chest. It’s nothing.”
>She looks up to you in worry, before stopping in her tracks as she looks ahead.
>You stop as well, looking ahead, nearly tripping over the warden.
>The mare barely registers you.
>”Ohh, Hello again, Anonymous.” She gives you a bittersweet smile. “Have you seen Cookies anywhere?”
>You and Cookies share a quick glance. 
“No, why?”
>”Ohh, it’s terrible. Some ponies from Jotter’s gang taped the chef and two guards too the wall of the kitchen and has it on lockdown ever since some guards tried to ask where she was.” 
”They did what?” You and cookies say at the same time, though hers is more of a panicked yelp while you’re trying to fight back laughter.
>Cookies shoots a deadpan glare at you.
>Ahh, there it is. And all to your own.
>The warden doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes having a heavy weight to them as she looks up at you almost pleadingly.
>Her bottom lip starts to quiver as tears threaten to crash down.
>It almost kills you to see her like this. 


>She is the most pure and innocent little unicorn you’ve ever laid eyes on.
>It’s almost a shame she knows evil even exists in the world.
>You constantly lie to her, yeah, but there’s a good reason for it.
>That smile is worth protecting, no matter the means. 
>[spoiler]...And to get away with all the “abhorrent crimes” you do.[/spoiler]
>”I know. I’m terrified they have her hostage too somewhere doing who knows what…” She frowns. 
>It kills you to see her like this. 
>“Who are you?” She does a double take at Cookies.
>”O-ohh. I’m.. I-” Cookies Stammers
”This is a new inmate that just showed up. I thought I’d show her around since I thought you might be busy.” You give a sweet innocent smile. 
>A genuine smile starts to tug at her own lips.
>You kneel down to her level and nearly put your hand on her withers, but hold yourself back, awkwardly holding your hand back in mid-air.
>Shit, right. Not on Earth.
“Hey chin- muzzle up? Warden.” You settle for an out of place thumbs up. “Jotter’s one of my best friends. I’ll give him a stern talking to and keep an eye out for Cookies too. Why don’t you go to your office and relax? Let Anon take care of everything for once?”
>She pulls out a handkerchief [spoiler]Hoofkerchief?[/spoiler] from her suit, wiping tears away again.
>”Ohh, Anonymous. Sometimes I wonder how you were ever an inmate here. You’ve always been nothing but a sweet kind hoo-man.”
”Again it’s the least I can do for setting me on the right path. And hey, don’t worry about Cookies. She’s the toughest cop ever. I’m sure whatever situation she’s in, she has it under control.”
>She sniffles and nods. 


”Now go on,” You shoo her away. 
>She nods again and slowly skulks off, wiping the tears that are streaming down her face. 
>”How does she keep falling for that act?” Cookies mumbles in disbelief. ”I think I’m gunna be sick” 
”Well, you heard the Warden. Cookies must’ve been taken hostage.” You give her your signature mischievous grin as you pick her up and stare her dead in the eyes.
>Time to get even.
>She shoot’s her glare at you again, but this time there’s a hint of fear behind it.
>”Anon. How can you even lie to her?” She scolds. “No other criminal ever has, no matter how evil.”
>You cock your head in confusion.
>”Her cutie mark stands for all that’s good and her special talent is to be the light that bring the best out of ponies,” she explains, noticing the surprised look on your face.
>That explains that feeling you get around her. 
>Though for some reason it pushes you to lie more than ever.
>You hold the cop out at arm’s length like a child. 
”Look, Cookies. Do you know how devastated she would have been to learn you were playing hookie and that all that mess was a cover up? Humans lie best when it’s for the other person’s own good. I can’t help it.”
>Her eyes dart around your face, seemingly trying to wrap her head around the concept. 
>“Is that a lie too?”
>Ouch.
“A half-truth. Humans are good at that too.” You put on a dumb smile as you put the undercover cop under your arm again.
>Now then, what to do with the cop you have hostage?

_______


>Ohh right. You promised that catbird you’d go to his secret club.
>You remember the password, but where did he say it was again? 
>This is exactly why you usually to keep Jotter close at hand.
>Your mind tends to wander when you get new information.
>Without him you’d probably forget you name.
>Looking around, the corridors seem void of anyone that can help.
>No guards in sight.
>Save for Cookies, of course. 
>They’re all probably handling the kitchen situation.
>Cookies wasn’t kidding about the guards quitting.
>To get away with bigger stunts, you used to order a lot of cannon fodder to distract the guards with more minor pranks, 
>Harmless ones.
>It never pulled all of them like this.
>Now that you think back to it, the pranks were only fun because of her reactions to it.
>Even the knitting club was a means to an end.
>The end being to piss off Cookies, of course.
>You walk in the direction opposite of the cafeteria.
>Cookies notices and sighs, knowing she’s going to be along for the ride whether she likes it or not.


“Don’t worry, Cookies. They’ll turn themselves in before the chefs need to start working on dinner. It’s just a distraction, remember?”
>”Dinner isn’t what I’m worried about...”
>You smile as you come across another Guard mare, who seems to be hanging out with those two dragons Jotter warned you about.
>By hanging out, you mean the dull violet dragon is holding the pony by her hind legs over a garbage can.
>The other, a lime green, is holding the lid while mocking the pony.
>Guard mare is the first to notice your presence, looking up at both you and Cookies pleadingly through tear filled eyes
>There’s a faint glimmer of hope in them.
>Cookies gasps, and wiggles in your arm, but you hold her firmly in place as you casually stroll up to the dragons.
”Hey, do you know where Grell's secret club is?”
>”Anon, what are you-” Cookies tries to interject, but you put a hand over her muzzle, making her blush.
>”Who wants to know?” The pale violet one asks, turning to look at you.
>”It’s in the oak tree in the yar-” The other, lime green one starts at the same time, before covering her mouth. 
>They both sound female.
>Or they’re hatchlings.
>You’re not really too sure about dragons, but they’re nearly your height and you’re sure they grow much larger.
>Violet one grunts and punches the lime green dragon in the arm, the mare now dangling by one leg and panicking.
>Wait, focus Anon. 
>Grell said it was in a big oak tree that was hard to miss.

_______


”Thanks,” you say, giving the three of them  a salute, before they can say anything more. “I’m off, then.”
>They seem miffed, but thankfully don’t set you on fire when you turn your back.
>Sure, they probably won’t go that far in happy horseland, but you thought the same thing with Roughwind.
>And he kicked you right in the eye.
>When you walk away you let go of Cookies’ muzzle.
>”Anon,” she gasps. 
>“We can’t just leave her. Soft Sweep’s one of the new guards.” she pleads, panicking as the kicking starts up again. “She’ll never make it.”
”Hmm… You’re right. We shouldn't leave her.” You pivot around and march back. 
>They regard you again, looking a bit more irritated this time around.
“Hey ladies, I’m going to Grell’s club. Want to come with me?” 
>Everyone present, including the guards, looks to you, than to each other in disbelief.
>You barely notice, digging through the trash can for the guard mare’s hat, before flipping it onto your head.
>It's a cheap hat trick that always gets people going. 
>No one seems amused. 
>Tough crowd.
>”Ano-” You cover Cookies’ mouth again.
>”You expect us to believe a civvy can get us into grell's club?” The lime green dragon asks, a hint of amusement on her tone.
”I’m a very convincing guy. What is that club anyways?” 


>”You don’t know?” Lime green asks.
>You look at them blankly.
>”He’s serious,” Violet says, facepalming. 
>Green starts again, “Only gryphons in his gang or the toughest black suits get a pass. We heard there’s all kinds of illegal stuff going on in there. Gambling, salt, alcohol-“
”Alcohol?”
>”Yeah,” the other dragon confirms with a mumble.
“Well, what are you girls waiting for. let’s go!” You hop excitedly in place. 
>”N-no please,” the guard mare cries as she’s still suspended in the air, her face falling.
>Her pleas for help get ignored by all except for Cookies, who is still trying to break free of your grasp.
"...You two are girls right?"
>"Of course we are." Both dragons say in unison.
”Cool.”
>”Cool?” Lime green starts. “You know there’s no girls allowed in his secret club, right?”
>You let go of Cookie’s muzzle again to adjust the police cap on your head. 
>“No cute girls allowed in a club? Why, that’s Criminal! We need to do something about this,” you say, doing a piss poor imitation of a cop. “I’m going to scold them and give them stupid life advice.”
>”What in Tartarus is wrong with you,” Lime green dragon asks fighting off a smirk.
>”Funny,” the other growls, despite not laughing. ”I was wondering the same thing.”
>You tap your chin in mock thought. 
”...Nothing comes to mind. I’m the whole package,” you jest with a wink.