open The Caballus Rebellion

[Anneal 2,197]

OOC: http://mlpforums.com/topic/69134-the-caballus-rebellion-ooc/?p=1722199

 

Ponyville, July 14, 1158

Skewer took a sip of his coffee, carefully grasping his mug and reminding himself not to intake too much of his espresso this time. He trembled briefly from the last time he drank a cup of coffee. Skewer remembered it vividly; the insides of his stomach ached like an explosion was imminent, his head felt overheated, and to make matters worse, he spilled his coffee onto himself, the liquid burning himself painfully.

He stopped the memory right there. No distractions. The seventeen year old colt continued reading his book regarding chess openings, flipping the page. That's when he knew why he was in the cafe, located in the lesser populated parts of Ponyville, in the first place. Skewer needed to escape from Cloudsdale for sometime.

Some of his friends from his school were mentioning of open defiance of the government. A protest the previous day had occurred in the east part of Cloudsdale; apparently the industrial area of the city. It wasn't very big, in fact, it was just a small group of "anarchic" fanatics, or as some of them claimed. Some of the guards were sent out to force the ponies back home. Skewer didn't like the sound if it. It seemed like these days these protests were happening more and more often. A month before, an all out riot happened on Seaside, a coastal area in Hoofington. Sections of roads were destructed, along with their buildings. Some of them were stolen from, vandalized, and even set ablaze. It was a rampage. He was quite thankful that the incidents happening in Cloudsdale were minimal contrasted to the events happening in the Southland.

Skewer bit his lip, closing his book despite that he did not complete reading his chapter. I should have paid more attention to not messing up my coffee...

[Frosty V 309]

Jaeger sat in his room cleaning his dagger and pistol while he watched the news. He had been hearing lately about a rise in protests from a anti-government militia group, but the politicians were trying to make it sound as of it was no big deal and they would take care of it immediately. "No big deal? Who are they kidding, these protests and attacks have been getting more and more violent over the past few weeks." he mumbled to himself.

 

He knew that this was only the begining of something larger. They weren't trying to make a point to the government. They were trying to make war. "The weapons they appear to have on TV don't at all look like civilian weapons." he said staring at his television set. Of course he was right these ponies were carrying military grade assault weapons and submachine guns.

 

Jaeger shook his head as he held his pistol in the light to check for smudge marks. "Let's just hope they don't bring their fight to us." he thought.

[Anneal 2,197]

Cloudsdale, July 13, 1158

 

Homeboard was cautious- cautious about not getting caught. She had anticipated this moment; her mother was out of the mansion to go shopping at Canterlot. The butlers were doing their things, and Homeboard had estimated that she had about two hours to get out and return back undetected. This was her so-called adventure; leaving the household without restrictions! She could do anything she wanted like a normal pony now. 

 

Carefully sneaking out of her window, which was located at the second floor, she jumped out, flapping her wings to suspend herself several feet in midair. Shutting the window, she maneuvered through dark areas in hopes of escaping undetected. As soon as she was out of the premises, Homeboard was more relieved, slowing her pace and wariness. Naturally, she landed on a nearby road.

 

She was later stopped by a crowd of ponies, blocking the road and any way around it, or above it, in fact; a number of the pegasi prevented any way of flying through. What's so exciting that everypony gathering for? Homeboard pushed through the crowd, attempting to move forward. She couldn't make out what they were even saying; it was just one noise, one churning and endless noise. 

 

It was later revealed to her that the "excitement" was actually the crowd itself. It didn't take long for her to notice it was just more than a crowd. Their voices sounded of...anger. She pushed herself further into the front of the crowd to notice that a line of constabulary officers were facing them, armed with service rifles, some of them holding revolvers. 

 

Homeboard herself found it difficult to process what was happening. When a constabulary officer passed out, the whole crowd was in silence. Then, within a few seconds, the ponies were running away from the armed civil forces, some being apprehended. She was also confused, and before she knew it, she was taken down by two ponies and sent away. 

 

I maybe need some time to refresh my mind.

 

New Cloudsdale Detention Center, July 16, 1158.

 

He was sitting quietly in his chair for a long time, ignoring all distractions. He liked to think that by now, as a correctional guard, he knew how to deal with a problem. But this was something he can't solve, can't face, can't withstand.

 

The mare wouldn't just shut up for once. 

 

The correctional guard at first tried to calm her down, but she was yelling on how she wasn't one of the rioters. He replied to her, again and again, but that didn't stop her. So the stallion gave up. She'll wear out eventually, he thought. Then she'll finally keep quiet.

 

Of course, he didn't believe a single word a mare said. Why should he trust a prisoner, anyway? He had seen that tactic used by what he called "minors", which were petty vandals, vagrants, loiterers, and so on. But then again, this rioter appeared to be a bit too young to be an adult...

 

"Hey. So when can I get out?" the mare suddenly said.

 

The correctional guard rolled his eyes, and picked up his clipboard.  "If you choose to plead not guilty," he answered, reading at the clipped paper, "Then you, Homeboard, would be put on trial. The crime of criminal mischief shall be imprisoned for no more than five years. And since you seem to be under-aged, I'll assume you'll be imprisoned for a few weeks, fifteen at most. That is, if you're pleading guilty. Then they'll consider reducing your prison term."

 

"But like I said! I didn't do anything! I wasn't even involved in all of this!" Homeboard banged against the prison cell bar. The cell she was in seemed to be of decent state; some of the members in the detention center seemed to know that she was of higher class. Not that it was better. Most of the cells remained empty since most convicted prisoners rarely stayed for more than a year. That was the case here; in other places like Hoofington, more and more ponies were getting imprisoned for more serious crimes: assaulting guards, vandalism, and arson are beginning to appear more often.

 

"Look here, kid. You should be happy you're not living here for the next few years. There are a bunch of ponies who have done the same mistakes as you. At least when you get out, you'll learn something in your life." he said, later adding, "Plus, you have a table, a bigger window, and a bit of water service. That's something, too." 

 

Parison House, July 23, 1158.

 

Skewer pressed the doorbell a fourth time, hearing it against ringing throughout the mansion. Strange, he thought. Homeboard would have opened the door already. Damn it, if she doesn't get here within a few minutes, the chocolates I bought for her are going to melt. He had considered flying over the gate, but that would serve little benefit, since they had an alarm system near the doorway. Anyways, the second door was also locked. 

 

Finally, a mare, one of the household servants, opened the gate for him, greeting him warmly with a "Mister" preceding his name. The mare trotted to the door, opening it for him. "I apologize for the inconvenience." she added as Skewer entered into the mansion.

 

"No need," he replied in a less formal manner. "Where's Homeboard, by the way?"

 

"Miss Homeboard is at her room, second floor, third room on the left. How unusual. I didn't think she was expecting visitors today." the mare answered. Skewer thanked the maid, walking up the stairs, following her directions. As he arrived to the third left room, he knocked on the door. "Hey? Are you there?" 

 

The door slowly opened, and Homeboard peeked out. "Oh! It's you! Come on in!" 

 

Skewer sat down on a nearby seat next to the table, leaning forward on it's back. Remembering the chocolates he brought, he immediately took out the box, handing it to her. "By the way, I went to the confectionery store down there at Ponyville and bought you this. It might not be as...good, however."

 

Homeboard opened the box, smiling. "Nice," she said, promptly opening and popping a chocolate into her mouth. "A bit melted, but still eatable. Thanks." 

 

Skewer beamed in reaction, though he had a disturbed feeling inside himself. The pressure was getting to him, and eventually he couldn't help but say it out loud. "Uh...Homeboard...can you tell me why you haven't been to my house these last few days? " He jabbed himself in the hoof in self-anger. ​Damn it, now you're too insensitive. 

 

What came after caused Skewer to nearly fall off of his chair. "Actually, I was...imprisoned." Homeboard answered. 

 

"WHAT?!" Skewer yelled, stabilizing himself again, finding itself difficult to do so. His eyes were widened with shock. 

 

"Yes, I was in prison. Thankfully, when I went on trial, I was acquitted of my crimes. So everything is pretty much back to normal-"

 

"BACK TO NORMAL?!" Skewer interrupted, pausing temporarily to calm himself down. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Okay, okay, okay. So what were you charged for?"

 

Homeboard cringed. "Rioting and assaulting royal Equestrian guards." she replied.

 

Skewer massaged his head, sighing. "I knew it. It's those riots that are happening, political unrest, whatever. It's messing up Equestria, it's messing up Cloudsdale, it's messing up you, it's messing up me. Why is this even happening..." He turned around and opened the window, flying away. Homeboard just stared, her chocolate box still on her lap.

 

That's when she proposed the question herself: What is happening? 

 

Heartland Region, Fort Daydream, 83 kilometers south-south west from Canterlot, October 15, 1158. 

 

Lieutenant Colonel Blockade was working on what she called "personal military work". An estimated 20 or so recruits would be joining into the 4th Division, 11th Regiment, 2nd Battalion. Perhaps she could assign a few of them to Company G after they finish their required training...

 

An stallion suddenly bolted in, slamming the door. "Lt Col. Blockade!"

 

Blockade bit her lip in annoyance. "Sgt. Weathervane!" she snapped. "Is it not difficult to simply knock before you enter a superior officer's working place? I order that you leave this room, knock, ask for the consent of the superior officer before you enter."

 

"But Lt Col. Blockade, ma'am, the arrival of the recruits have been delayed. A number of civilians has obstructed their path. And by the looks of it, they're not at all pleased. Talking about how they wanted to repeal the Riot Act of such."

 

"Get a platoon from Company C to control the issue," Blockade replied sternly. "And I repeat: Next time, you knock. Now leave." She waved her hoof towards the door. The sergeant saluted and left.

 

Blockade pulled out a journal, flipping to a blank page next to a written one. Her last entry, written at October 12, was describing a conflict with two guards of hers, along with the condition of her battalion. Looking up to the ceiling in thought, she later picked up a pen and wrote onto the blank page.

 

October 15, 1158.

Partly cloudy

 

I have received news from one of my fellow guards, Sgt. Weathervane. There has been yet another issue with the nearby civilians; they have been trying to interfere with a number of recruits expected to arrive today. I have deployed a platoon from Company C to take care of the problem; hopefully the recruits will arrive tomorrow so we may go back on schedule. 

 

I fear, however, there is an impending crisis in southern Equestria. Ponies begin to talk of secession due to what they believe is the tyrannic rule of the Princesses. Hearing of this, I can not help but laugh. I hope, nonetheless, that a compromise can be agreed on that will please both sides of this conflict. Sadly, I do not see that occurring any time soon...

 

Blockade

Edited September 1, 2013 by Cartophile

[MisterRe 21]

The ground shook and stammered overhead, its sounds and furies woke the sleeping dead.

 

---

 

I woke up. Underneath stone and dirt to the sounds of death and destruction . Time and time again, this happens. Why me? What is the matter now? War, still so much of it. I will wait until its quiet. A whole new world awaits me.

[Anneal 2,197]

Mistcloud Senior High, Cloudsdale, February 4, 1159.

 

Skewer sat by himself in the library. It was getting dark, and the only source of light was the lit lantern-like lamps hanging on the walls. He had been in the library after finishing his day of school; Skewer had become a frequent visitor of this place. Sometimes he came here to read books, and yet other times he came to just unwind for some time. The quietness soothed him greatly.

 

He opened a book sitting on the table, and chuckled when he looked at the title. Equestria: From Establishment to Today. Skewer looked outside the window. Celestia's sun was setting, and from the east Luna's moon began to rise. He wondered what tomorrow would bring, and bit his lip when he remembered that anything that happened tomorrow was NEVER good. A few months before, a number of guards were taking down a number of civilians trying to interfere with military work. And the recently effective Riot Act was really getting on everypony's nerves. It was supposedly an act allowing the use of chemical weaponry to subdue "criminal mischief". 

 

"Yeah, that sure isn't going to create trouble," Skewer muttered sarcastically. Even when the military assured that they would be using non-lethal chemicals such as tear gas, the fact still remained that they could literally use anything to take down misconducted ponies; even lethal ones, if they're authorized to. The issue was serious causing fear throughout the country, and literally did nothing to solve the problem. It just seemed like the Empire was trying to stop the rebels instead of coming to an agreeable compromise. Won't that be better? he thought.

 

Skewer then looked at the history book once more, finally opening it and reading the first few pages. When he got halfway through the first chapter (which was talking about the merging of the three tribes), he paused. There was a picture that interested him- a picture of the earth pony, the unicorn, and the pegasi meeting each other. It...reminded him of the "old" Equestria. Where there was no conflict, and everypony lived together happily for once. And though some disorder has been caused from evil forces, they have been stopped and prevented. Together. The earth pony, unicorn, and pegasi; all into one race. 

 

He snapped out of his musings when he felt a pat on his back, jumping out of his seat in reaction. Turning around, Skewer saw that the pony was...Homeboard. He sighed in relief. 

 

"Uh...hi Skewer," Homeboard greeted.

 

"Hey," Skewer said in an emotionless manner.

 

"So...uh...we haven't been keeping in touch with each other for months now. I decided to find you, and the library was the first place I thought of. Well, honestly, it was the second place; I went to the chess club building at first to find you, and you weren't there, so I ran-"

 

"Okay, I got that." Skewer interjected. "Way too much information there."

 

Homeboard decided to change the subject, looking out the window. "Sure is a nice day, isn't it?"

 

No, it isn't a nice day. Not a single day goes by without some conflict against the government is going on and fighting throughout Equestria. In fact, every day is a terrible day.

 

"It is indeed," Skewer replied.

 

Amblerton, Town 341 km west by north of Hoofington, March 9, 1159.

 

The crowd was silent, not moving a single hoof. They all focused their attention to the pony standing on the podium. The pony was holding sheets of paper, clad in formal clothing. A flag, indicated by a balancing scale with a big E on the center. 

 

The Equestrian Egalitarian Party started a convention in the town of Amblerton; Amaranth was the pony who had set it up, and was sitting contently on the first set in the front row. She generally didn't care about the speech; what she only cared about was progress and results. She did not accept weakness in this party. Taking a short glance at the ponies behind her, by seeing the number of chairs that weren't filled, she estimated that at least two thousand supporters, members, and civilians were watching. They appeared to be...inspired. 

 

Amaranth smiled. Since the founding of the party two years before, they have only acquired six thousand ponies. No worries. Young animals will age eventually, and the same applied with political parties.

 

"...Ponies! Will you accept this kind of abomination to proceed to rule our land? Will you accept the fact that the rulers that have robbed our money and betrayed our trust to walk away with no consequence? Will you accept that the rich become richer while us ponies are left to rot?" Immediately the crowd yelled with same word: "No! No! No!"

 

"Do you want freedom? If so, there is only one way to acquire it. You must earn it! Earn it with your sweat and your tears! You must earn it! Follow me, and we would reach that promised goal of liberty and freedom! Resist the ponies and princesses that have defied you, growing fatter with your food, growing drunk with your cider! 

 

"We must retaliate, but not with unnecessary force. We must remove them from power with our will! Repay them with a hundredfold of the pain we have suffered by exposing their evil deeds! Today, and hence forth, we shall unite as one, and fight for justice! Fight for liberty! Fight for freedom!" The ponies cheered loudly, some throwing their hats, others yelling insults such as "Down with the Empire!" and "Take down the tyrants!" 

 

The pony left the podium, walking down the stairs, finding and sitting down on a seat next to Amaranth. "Hey, nice speech there, Quicksilver," Amaranth commented.

 

"That was nothing of the sort. I was just making commonplace words sound inspirational," Quicksilver said, taking off her gray fedora hat."

 

"Strange. You used to be a messenger mare back at the Crystal Empire, and I used to be an actress. After a few years, we become expert politicians."

 

"Things change, Amaranth," Quicksilver said. "So do ponies."

Edited September 4, 2013 by Cartophile

[MisterRe 21]

Mr. Re climbed out of his freshly-made smoldering grave. The battle zone had moved west from this vicinity. He could tell by the tank threads and the blood splatters.

 

"On to, who knows where." He moved into a rural area filled with college ponies and normal ponies alike,

[Durandal 623]

(I'd like to apologize to everyone for how long it took me to get this up. In truth, I started this last week - however school work, along with a driving test, has bogged me down substantially. Now that I've gotten my first post in and my driving test completed, hopefully I can use this momentum to keep up the pace.)

 

Fort Olympus, Canterlot, September 27th, 1162

The crisp, cool autumn air blew through the courtyard of Canterlot's prestigious Fort Olympus, rustling the hair and clothes of the hundreds of soldiers that tread it. The soft howl of the calm breeze was broken by the usual suspects - the repeated report of rifles and the strained shouts of high-strung drill instructors.

A khaki-colored unicorn observed all this with cheerful coral eyes, his olive mane flitting in the wind despite much protest from his peaked cap. Upon its white crown rested the emblem of the Royal Guard Officer's Corps, the embroidery around it replicated upon the silver officer's tunic that wrapped around the unicorn's slim form. Its long sleeves reaching his hooves, which ended in the golden sabatons worn by the Guards and the royalty they protected. His collar reached the very tip of his neck, the embroidery on it indicating his corps and rank, which was further emphasized by the golden epaulettes on his shoulders.

"Art!"

The unicorn turned his attention to the approaching pegasus, cocking his head to the side. The pegasus landed next to him, continuing.

"Art, we need to talk."

Artful Campaign nodded, hopping off the concrete fountain he had been sitting on. The two began their journey through the Fort, passing by many of their comrades as they went - some training, some playing, some simply passing by. Soon they reached the corridors of the Fort, navigating them with practised ease. Finding a particularly isolated section of the building, the pegasus steered Art into an empty room, shutting the door behind them. It was a small room with stacks of schooling equipment, likely a reserve classroom - of little import, and a perfect place to get away from it all. If only for a little while.

Art turned to look at the pegasus. He was a lankly fellow, maybe a tad younger than himself, with a burgundy coat and dark grey mane and tail. His eyes stood out the most - the leafy green of his eyes reflecting his personality. Sometimes he wondered if those eyes would bloom. With the grays and whites of the Royal uniform, he reflected just the sort of lively and unorthodox officer that subordinates loved and superiors hated. For Art, it ran deeper than that.

"What's the matter, Red?"

Red Iron gave him a stern glare before caving entirely, letting out a sigh. He reached out, putting a hoof on the side of his jaw. Art leaned into the hoof, cradling it with his own.

"You haven't been coming around that much, Arty. I miss you."

Art chuckled, "you know that I'm busy, Red. And we see each other during classes constantly!"

Red was unamused. "You and I both know that that isn't the problem, Arty. We never do anything together, don't you worry we might grow apart?"

"Oh Red, you worry too much," Art replied, nuzzling him. "We both knew what we were getting ourselves into when we started seeing each other, and this hasn't been the first or last time you've brought it up. We'll be fine, Red, I promise."

"But don't you want to be more open? Don't you want to do more together? Do you not care?" Red protested, stamping on the floor. Art's demeanour soured.

"Yes, I care. However, we aren't in a position to do much."

"We've never been in a position to do much! I want to be with you, as in actually be with you. Not these short bursts of romance when we have time! You say you care, but all you want is for things to continue. Sometimes I..."

Tears began to form in Red's eyes, his voice seizing as his breathing became erratic. Art was now hugging the poor colt, trying his best to remain calm himself. The next few words broke him, however.

"I wonder if you ever loved me at all..."

Art's eyes shot open, releasing Red from his grasp as he looked at him. Neither could see each other particularly well, the tears welling up in their eyes effectively blurring their vision. Without thinking, Art lunged at his partner, throwing his hooves around him once again as their snouts pressed together. The kiss lasted for what felt like hours, the adrenaline pumping through them dulling their perceptions. They drew apart eventually, however neither particularly remembered the event - only that they were no longer embracing each other.

Red was about to open his mouth once more, however was stopped by Art, who directed him to a part of the room. They sat down, Art rubbing his partner's back as he quietly shushed his partner, his own voice cracking. Red rested his head against Art's neck.

"Red," Art began, trying his best to maintain his composure, "I-If you ever- ever feel that way- t-tell me. Please, tell me."

He got a muttered response from his partner. Silence engulfed them shortly after, the pain of a damaged relationship washing over them. Red was the first to challenge the silence.

"Do you think," Red paused, his mouth struggling to express his thoughts. "Do you think we'll ever be together, Art?"

 

Art considered the question. They had been doing this for so long that it was all either really knew at this point. But it couldn't last, Red made that clear. He had been considering his loyalties before - he realized they were eroding. This was only another reason, only another factor. But could they really?...

 

"Perhaps," Art thought aloud, resting his head upon Red's.

 

"Perhaps."

 

And so they sat in silence, cherishing what little time they had together like they always did. It was fleeting, after all.