I tried editing this at some point. It's difficult and will continue it if the threads ever come back.

>“Is this your first time in an… institution?”
>Narrowing your eyes at the small stallion, you wait for a few seconds before responding.
>The guidance counselor’s been questioning you for a good forty minutes or so now. 
>Some questions have been relevant, yet the others were a waste of your time.
>Either way, you grunted and shrugged in response to most of his questions.
>“No,” you answer, not short from a grunt.
>You glance down at your orange garb, graciously commissioned for you by the sun princess herself.
>Thanks Sunny. 
>”O-ohh, I see,” he responds, shooting you a warm smile as he leans in close on his desk.
>“A lot of inmates tend to be nervous, there are a lot of bullies in here after all.”
>”Bullies.” you parrot, shifting on the too-small wooden stool under you.
>”Yes... unfortunately this prison has some of the hardest offenders in Equestria,” he explains scanning you, almost trying to study your expression.
>”N-no need to be anxious, dear. I can get one of the guards to give you a tour if-”
>You're not even sure why you're putting up with this guy.
>There's no way you'll get any hope of a pardon after pissing off royalty.
>You get up and make your way towards the door.


>“O-ohh! Remember, dear. Sound Steer is always here you ever need somepony to-”
>You kick the door shut on your way out, making a loud slam that echos through the hallway.
>He was even worse than the warden you met when you got here.
>Casting your gaze down with a soured expression, you shoot a glare at a guard who immediately stiffens up.
>The mare seems to be a slightly off white pony with a brown mane, honestly the most earthly tame colors you’ve seen equines.
>She opens her mouth to talk to you but is quickly interrupted by the sound of fumbling in the room.
>Both of you look to the door as it swings back open, knocking you in the shoulder.
>Wasn’t hard enough to knock you back, but you step back reflectively in response.
>The guard gasps and looks at you wide eye'd.
>Mr. counselor, however, looks as if he's about to have a stroke.
>”Anonymous! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-if you want to press charges I’ll take full responsibility!”
>You blink and look down at him, confused.
>The guard finally speaks up, ”Inmate. I-I can take you to the doctor if-”
>”No,” you grumble.
>She holds her tongue and puts on a melancholy demeanor as she starts after you, only to be grappled by Sound Steer and pulled into his office.
>Now that’s something that would get him a few years back on Earth.


>Pressing an ear to the door, you try to listen in for any action. 
>Unfortunately the small conferenceis too muffled.
>You could book it and cause some trouble, however you would hate to be referred to as a rabbit this early on.
>The best course of action would be to keep your cool for now and learn more about the place.
>Even though that's what you in trouble to begin with.
>Leaning on the door, your eyes trace along the walls in the immediate area.
>The counselor's office seems to be in a section secluded from everywhere else just at the very end of the hallway. 
>You hope to enjoy the tranquility for a few moments longer. 
>Lord knows it’ll go down the shitter when you meet the other convicts.
>Your gang tattoos may as well mean nothing here.
>Or even worse off, they might and the others will lynch you being in another gang.
>The door creaks opens again and you’re ready to avoid the door this time.
>The mare steps out with a determined look on her face and nods at you.
>Your lips tighten and your fists clench a bit in response, unsure of the situation.
>The both of you start walking without really acknowledging each other, that combined with the general area you’re in makes an eerie silence, only to be interrupted by both of your steps and the cuffs around your wrist, clinking with each.
>”Sooo...” she starts, breaking the silence.


>”No. No doctor. No more questions."
>“I just wanted to warn you about your roomie. He’s really tall. Not as tall as you. But he’s a bit of a trouble maker.”
>You cast a glance at her, but quickly dart your eyes away when she looks back up to you.
>”I can take care of myself, sweetie cakes,” you respond after a few moments.
>She giggles at the name you’ve given her, ”That’s the name of my sister. My name is Cookies ‘n Cream, yours is Anonymous I take it?”
>”It’s...” You look down an adjacent hallway and spot something that completely sets you off.
>This white equine decked in black stripes must have felt your glare boring into the back of her skull.
>She turns to look at you.
>”God above… just when I thought this place couldn’t get any worse,” you mumble to yourself.
>She stares at you with a horrified expression before running off, causing the guards to run after her.
>“What? God?” Cookie asks, snapping you out of your hate fueled rage.
>“It’s uhh… Just… Anon is fine,” you say gritting your teeth a bit.
>You are both silent the rest of the way, still stealing glances at each other every now and then.
“Is there something you want?” you growl, impatiently when she steals another glance at you.
>”Well, it’s just that. Don’t take this the wrong way, Anon, but I’ve never seen anypony like you before,” she says smiling up at you with a skip in her step.
>Your eyebrows arch a bit, never really thought about that until now. You’re probably some cool looking space alien. Only probably not so cool to them what with the hairlessness and all. 


>Still you’ve always thought [spoiler]ayylmaos[/spoiler] were cool.
>”Not from here.” You cast your gaze straight ahead once more, trying to feign apathy.
>She opens her mouth to speak again, but decides against it.
>She halts in front of a pretty sturdy looking door and undoes the latch before swinging it wide.
>Running your tongue along your teeth, you quickly scan the room.
>It’s surprisingly more colorful than you imagined it would be. 
>Decorations adorn the fully furnished room giving off a more homely feeling than your place back on Earth. 
>No toilet but there’s a door you assume is a bathroom.
>Hell, there’s even a filled bookshelf.
>You shoot the guar- Cookie one last look before stepping in.
>If you play your cards right you could probably shake her and a lot of other guards down and get them to bring you a bit of contraband, maybe make a few… whatever currency it is they have here, for when you get out.
>If you get out.
>Off on the bottom bunk of the bed, you see the biggest damn horse you’ve ever seen so far aside from the princesses. 
>He's currently crying his eyes out.
>A fag, great.
>He doesn't seem so tough, at least,


>Still no reason not to be wary, sometimes they just like to catch you off guard.
>Not that you’ve been raped in the ass by another inmate before.
>It totally wouldn’t have been gay if you did though.
>”Trouble Shoes are you okay?” Cookie asks, her voice laden with concern.
>”I didn’t mean ‘ta do it, I swear. Please don’t make me stay in h-h-he-” He stops as he notices you, tears still streaming down his face.
>“It’ll be fine, Trouble. You have a roomie that’ll look out for you now!” she says beaming as she gestures off into your direction.
>You try to ignore him and scan the array of posters on the walls.
>It's probably safe to say he's one for rodeos.
>Some of them, with a big burly stallion in barely anything but his stetson holding rope in his mouth or moving through an obstacle of some kind.
>Yeah, this guy is a flaming homo.
>For whatever reason, a nap doesn't sound so appealing anymore.
>You are definitely watching your ass tonight.
>”Hey mister. What kinda pony ‘re you?” he says, wiping his tears away.
>All of these ponies seem to be able to do a complete one-eighty with their moods in an instant. It’s kind of off putting.
>That and their seemingly fictitious smiles.
>It’s all it bit daunting, really.


”Not... from here.”
>”Well, it’s nice that you two are getting along,” Cookie says, her beaming smile right back on her face.
>“It’s lunch time now so I guess next stop is the cafeteria- ohh, I’m so sorry, Anon!”
>You raise a brow in response.
>”I meant to take those cuffs off you when we first got here,” she says pulling out a key from under her hat.
>You simply slip your hands right out of them, however.
>The cuffs seem to be a bit big, as if made just with hooves in mind.
>You can’t help but grimace a bit.
>Does the Equestrian prison system think anything through?
>The other inmates are bound to be animals! 
>Well they are talking animals, but unruly ones, at least.
>Trouble slides off the bed, wiping tears from his eyes.
>"Woah, that was really cool, Anon!" 
>You grunt back at him in response, earning a chuckle from both ponies.
>"I like him!" Trouble beams.
>Walking out of the cell, or a bedroom would be more accurate, the three of you make your way to the cafeteria.


>Getting there, all eyes are on you.
>You keep your head straight, and walk with a confident swagger.
>Both you and Trouble are pretty big so hopefully none of these guys try to shake you down on your first day.
>Though it's probably inevitable.
>You can't help but tense up when you hit the line, your knuckles white and the sinews on your hands standing at end.
>They're all still boring into you with their eyes, something that usually ends with rape, or half dead and bleeding out in an empty hall.
>You're not sure which is worse, given how big horse co-.
>”Wh-what would you like?”
>You shake your head, once again being snapped back to reality, sweat dripping from your face as you look down at the trembling mare addressing you.
>Taking in a deep breath you look around. You’ve made it without dying so far.
>Spotting some gryphons, you point to them.
>”What are they having?”
>”O-ohh. Th-they eat f-fish.”
>Does she always stutter like that? How did a pony like that ever end up working at a prison?
>”I’ll have that,” You say, giving her a wavering smile.
>Cookie and Trouble seem to perk up, quick to notice the only smile you’ve displayed since either of them met you.
>She drops a good sized fish that wasn’t even gutted and cleaned onto your tray as well as some pudding, apple juice, and a slice of pecan pie.
>”...Can I get some salt on this at least?”
>”ANON!” Cookie yells, making some ponies from the nearby tables turn their heads once more.
>”You… you’re addicted to salt? I thought you were better than that!”
”What?,” You retort, angrily before sighing in defeat, knowing you need to catch flies with honey.
>"Humans excrete a lot of salt when we sweat. You can lick me right now if you don’t believe it,” you say, mostly to Cookie in a tone.
>Trouble Shoes starts to lean in but you press a hand on his chest and push him away before standing upright again.
>Her expression seems to soften as she scans your face, as if trying to sense motive but it quickly shifts to concern. 
>"I believe you, Anonymous. I’m sorry I snapped at you. We don’t carry salt here. It’s a narcotic for ponies.”
”Noted.”


>”H-hey, Anon!” Cookie calls.
>”Hmm?”
>”I...I have a meeting with somepony, I’ll be back to pick you up later though, okay?”
>You carelessly turn around and wave the mare off, eager to fill your belly.
>Since you came here you haven’t had any kind of animal and the vegetable diet that you’re not used to hasn’t been enough to hold you off for long periods of time, not to mention you didn’t catch breakfast this morning.
>The gryphons that were happily chatting it up stop and turn to you when you approach them, smiles fading almost instantly when you drop your tray, causing an audible whack on the table.
>You shoot them the cheekiest grin you can muster before you lean over your tray and cram the pecan pie into your mouth. 
>The flavor as well as the texture is astounding and the center is still quite warm. 
>Whoever cooked this surely made it from scratch.
>There’s no way they would take care of prisoners this well back home.
>Glancing back at the gryphons, they just look thoroughly stupefied for whatever reason. You drop the pie immediately as you make eye contact.
>These spots are empty because this is their turf.
>Of course it is.




______________________________________________________________________






>You chew slowly and dart your eyes around trying to think of some options. Trouble Shoes seems to have squeezed in with some ponies somewhere else without telling you.
>Now you know what kind of asshole he is.
>Currently, you are unarmed and these birds have sharp claws, beaks, and talons. 
>They could easily overpower you as a group and disembowel you.
>You would look like a bitch and get targeted by everyone else if you tried to run. 
>Looks like you have no choice but to let your eyes clawed ou-
>Snapping out of your trance, your eyes light up as you notice the fork on your tray and you slowly reach for it.
>”Hey,” a larger younger male one says from across the table, before shoving pecan pie in his maw in the same manner you were.
>Your eyes narrow at him as you swallow slowly. It’s a bit hard since your throat seems to be a bit more dry now.
>Grabbing the apple juice with your off hand, you drink some to wash it down, not taking your eyes off the gryphon.
>You try and fight back a smile when the sweetness overpowers your senses. 
>Hey, you could make some excellent hooch with this.
>the dark grey gryphon's tone didn’t seem too threatening and his posture is relaxed as he leans his head in his hand, stuffing his face with the other.
>Cocky.
>You might be able to catch that one off guard.
>The brown female glowers at you, sizing you up.


>”You got guts, fledgling,” an older more gruff voice beside you says.
>Looking down at the source you see a supposedly older gryphon.
>You can't help but notice his cropped tail.
>Tough bastard must have gotten it cut off in a fight or something.
>Giving him the signature grunt and gripping the fork tightly, you ponder taking taking the first move to show the rest of the inmates that you’re not some punk.
>You may just be biting more than the Brotherhood can chew.
>Chew...
>>You’re still very hungry and want to down something before getting thrown back in your cell.
>Slowly raising the fork, you move it over to the fish and assiduously clean the scales off of it, an easy job since the fish seems to be steamed.
>Still awkwardly holding the fork, you hold up the fish to your mouth with both hands, before digging in.
>It’s fishy and tasteless, but at least it’s warm and full of nutrients you need to pull through for the rest of the day.
>Clearing his voice, the old coot continues. “Can you talk, Fledgeling?”
>You stop chewing and peer over to him.
>You grunt at him, before cautiously digging back in.
>He grins widely and continues, “So, I’m thinking I’d like to extend my services to you... at a price of course.”
>The female gryphon is quick to retort, ”You can’t be serious, this… thing looks like trou-” The old feather bag holds out his claw, gesturing her to stop.


>”...She’s right, don’t got horse money,” you say, with a mouth full of fish.
>”We’ll... work on that. See, we could make your life easier here,” he says smiling.
>In other words, one slip up he's going to make your stay here a living hell.
>It seems your goals intertwine. 
>This can’t be good for either of you.
"Protection?"
>You wince as you bite into the gut of the fish, the insides tasting rancid on your tongue.
>”Sorry, fledgeling. My family is already a claw-full to protect,” he chuckles as he wraps his talons around your neck and pulls you down closer so that he can whisper in your ear. 
>You tense up as he grasps you.
>“I’m talkin’ extra pudding cups and hard to get arts and crafts supplies,” he says, still grinning.
>Now you know he’s fucking with you.
>Pulling away from him, one of his talons nicks the side of your neck, causing a very light scratch.
>He didn’t seem to even notice it or he’s pretending he didn’t do that on purpose.
“Your family? You're a mob?” 
>You drop the bare fishbone and grab the rest of the pecan pie, greedily eating to was the taste of the fish out of your mouth..
>”A mobster?” He blinks at you in confusion before gesturing a talon to the other two. “No, this is my niece, Gael. And my son, Gerald.” He stops himself, talon recoiling. “I’m Graham by the way,” he says, holding his raptor claw out for a shake. 


>You turn to acknowledge him, relieved to hear normal names.
>Hesitantly, mostly because you don’t your hands to get scratched up, also you’re having a bit of trouble reading his expressions.
>His intentions can’t be good though.
>Your hand eventually reaches his talons and you start to shake, the human gesture makes you have to force back another smile.
>”Anon,” you say.
>His smile slowly fades which puts you on edge.
>You immediately let go and grasp the pudding cup, before scooping up a little with your spoon to test the waters.
>It tastes more of sugar than chocolate.
>Very nostalgic, overall.
>You quickly shove spoonful after spoonful into your mouth.
>Before you know it, the cup is empty and your frown deepens.
>You peer back over to Graham in curiosity, noticing he hasn’t talked. 
>His face is a mix of shock, distress, and horror as he points a shaky talon at you, causing you to drop the empty cup and metal spoon onto the floor.
>This causes some other ponies to look at you.
>Your eyes dart around a bit, several red flags going off in your head.
>”I do something wrong?,” you grunt.


>”A-an-an-anon” he sputters.
>You cock your head to your side. Does your name mean something offensive to these gryphons?
>Is there an infamous Anon wherever they come from that they are mistaking you for?
>Takes a bit but you can finally see that his shaky talon is actually pointing to the side of your neck. Does the swastika mean anything here?
>You rub at your neck and feel something a bit wet, looking at it it seems he nicked you a little deeper than you thought. 
>Honestly, you didn’t even notice it.
>Raising a brow, you look to your hand finding yourself thoroughly confused as you look back up to him.
>You are cut off with a scream from a pony in the table over to your left. The other ponies look at you and their jaws instantly drop, one of them fainting.
>The sudden noise causes Graham to fall back onto the bench, his elbow catching his tray making the contents fly at the pony at the table parallel to yours.
>The contents hit a pony and he collapses, as if playing dead.
>Another pony from somewhere in the room calls out, “Food fight!” and the whole cafeteria goes ape- err horseshit
>One of the ponies at that table tries to throw a vegetable sandwich at Graham, but you grab your tray and use it to bat it in some random direction, hitting another pony in the face.
>Old pecker-face is still staring at you, wide eyed, seemingly not even registering what's going around him.
>Grabbing the fork, you shove it in between your armpit before standing up. 
“We're going,” you growl to your new companions before darting to the door in a low crouched stance, using your tray as an impromptu defense.
>As you pass by tables, more and more ponies play dead as pudding and what have you stain their otherwise clean coats.


>The donkeys have pushed one table to the side to use as a barrier to hide behind.
>You come across Trouble, crying as he drags himself across the floor trying to reach the exit.
>Sighing, you drop the tray and grab his hoof, dragging him along with you.
>Closing the doors behind you you sigh again  in relief before turning to Graham and crew.
>Trouble seems to take this as his cue to stand up, shaking like a leaf.
>Your breathing is shallow and erratic. You have no idea why, but that got your adrenaline running.
>“wha--”
>You are interrupted by grapple takedown combo from both Trouble and Gerald.
>Trouble is a spineless traitor, you should have seen this coming.
>Cookies, bless her heart, tried to warn you but you didn’t listen.
>Teeth clenched, you try and wiggle out of it but they have you immobilized for the time being.
>Ponies never seemed like much but they are quite heavy, especially Trouble.
>They have your arms pinned to your sides, and the teeth of the fork dig into your skin as you struggle.
>Graham comes up to you and you can do little but glare at him.
>“Y-you saved my life… after I… Anon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean.”
>No doubt, this old bird is crazy.


>And Crazy is bad news.
>You should have stabbed him right there and then but you had to stuff your stupid fucking face.
>They don’t seem to be doing anything yet so you try to calm yourself down.
>That’s when you realize they aren’t trying to restrain you.
>They’re hugging you.




______________________________________________________________________






>Scowling at the two, you let out a guttural warning of a growl
>Gerald jumps off of you and into the air.
>“Ohh I’m sorry, Anon. It’s just, you were so cool the way you saved my dad. And, and, and you lead us all out of there right through all the chaos,” he says, flying around and batting an air tray for emphasis.
>”You gotta show me how to do that!”
>You grumble angrily in response and sit up.
>Gael raises a brow at her cousin's sudden change in behavior. “...Thanks weird minotaur thing.”
>”I have the best roomie ever.” Trouble says, breaking his usual depressed monotone voice.
>It takes a bit of work, but without Gerald hugging you, you’re able to pry Trouble away.
>”Anon!” A familiar voice calls out.
>Turning, you see, Cookies and three other guards dressed in riot gear.
>They peer into the room and Cookie signals them to move in to take control of the situation.
>”Did you see who started it Anon?” Cookie asks turning to your group.
>You and Graham share a look.


>He slowly raises his claw, but you lean down and place a hand on his claw to stop him.
>When you lean down, it gives her clear view of your scratch, making her gasp and double back into the floor.
>You blink a bit in confusion.
>”Zebras,” You answer.
>You stand firm and turn to the other four, “Right guys?”
>Trouble shrugs, Gerald smiles and nods furiously, and the other two gryphons look like deer caught in the headlight.
>”I-I-I, Trouble! Get Anon to the clinic right away! I’ll get those culprits!” she says, hopping back onto her feet and dashing through the door in a panic.
>”Yes, ma’am.” Trouble salutes.
”Go on, Trouble, I’ll catch up with you.”
>“Sure thing, partner.”
>The way he says ‘partner’ sends a chill down your spine.
>You turn back to the gryphons, frowning, and cross your arms.
>The trio’s eyes go to the size of pinpricks. 
>Graham turns to you. “Anon… I appreciate you bein’ a stand up guy, but you just… lied to the toughest guard in the prison...”
>Toughest guard?
>After all that he's still trying to get in your head.