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Description

Image imported from derpibooru 
Original Description:
 
cw: general violence, murder, mentions of domestic abuse and brutality
 
 

 
 
“No! No, please, I—I have a family!”
 
Scrapjack pinned the stallion’s snout to the floor with her free claw.
 
“You think we don’t, dipshit? You think you’re the only one who’s got folks waitin’ at home? How many times has that play worked on you, huh? Some poor ‘brid begs for their life and the next thing they know you’ve got a bolt through their neck. How do you think their kids feel? Their parents, their brothers and sisters? A family,” she spat. “Whaddya think, Rots? Should we let him go home so he can beat his wife one more time?”
 
 
Rotgut snorted, and Scrapjack could swear she heard the stallion’s ribs crack under her massive hoof.
 
“Didn’t think so.”
 
She pressed the barrel of her gun to his temple.
 
“Now you listen to me, you waste of skin. I don’t know who you are—don’t know your name, where ya came from, what yer story is—but I know that badge on your chest means you do what I’m about to do every day of your life and feel nothin’. You crawled out of a pit in Tartarus and decided your claim to fame was gonna be puttin’ poor mothers in prison and stealing from the babies they left behind to starve. You think you’re the best thing on the planet because you’ve got a fancy suit of armor and a license to kill. But you die like all the rest, don’tcha? Scared, and weak, and pitiful. I should feel bad for this, I know, for doin’ exactly what you do. But ya wanna know the difference, brushhead?”
 
She leaned in, teeth bared.
 
“I’m the good guy.”
 
One pull, and a deafening bang echoed through the empty warehouse.
 
 

 
 
I feel like I haven’t explored too much what exactly these gals are doing to try and stop the king– a good percentage of it is either arson, destruction of property, or, as you can see, murder of the royal guards. A majority of them need to go before the scrappers can get a chance at killing the king himself, and they’ve actually made a pretty impressive dent in Canterlot’s militia. Now, I’m not by any means claiming that this is the best way to go about overthrowing an unjust leader, or that I, say, fantasize about going completely apeshit and doing this in real life, but it makes for a compelling narrative. And, as it says on the tin, it can be cathartic to put aside all pretense of moral high ground and just write unapologetic violence from a nonspecific oppressed person towards a nonspecific oppressor. I think I’m within my rights as a human to do so.
 
Anyhow, thanks for reading and have a nice day! Stay warm out there <3

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