A sleeping stallion awakens from his slumber on the couch and looks outside his tenement apartment window. While most of the view is blocked by laundry wires, shaky fire escapes, and other buildings, he's able to just make out the evening sky, even a few purple and orange clouds. While most ponies would be heading home or just now getting off work, his day, or rather night, is just beginning. He throws off his thin blanket and stretches his legs, neck, and bat-like wings. He looks around his one room apartment, he's reminded off how small of place he lives in.

All the rooms you would expect to find in a normal apartment are all jammed into a small 250 square foot area. The kitchen is two counters made with aging wood, a metal sink that one would find in a public restroom, a faded white fridge that doesn't have a secure door, and a gas oven that seems to have been around since the Two Sisters were born. The living room consists of a old, red couch with stains and fuzz popping out the left side arm rest, a coffee table with cuts on the surface and a leg that's shorter than the others, and a small, two shelf book case with a few books but mostly nick-knacks and a few pieces of garbage, above it is a 2x1 mirror. The dining room is just a small, square, plastic table with two metal folding chairs. To any other Canterlot pony, this would seem like an absolute nightmare to live in, but the stallion and all the other bat-ponies who live in similar circumstances, this is home.

The stallion finishes his gaze and hops off the couch on to his four hooves. He walks over to the mirror above the bookcase to his left. As he walks towards it, a sharp pain in his back appears. "Ow," exclaims the stallion in a gruff, low voice, he grunts, "great, another rough night on the couch, I wish I could afford a real bed." He reaches the mirror and examines himself. He brushes off any bits of couch fuzz on his dark, winter blue coat. He runs his right hoof through his long, wavy, dark grey mane and tail. He rubs out the sleep in his yellow, cat like eyes. He opens his mouth to examine his fangs, they're a little more yellow today, "hm, I better brush my teeth before I head to work." He looks down and grabs his tooth brush and tooth paste off the second shelf, before he backs away he notices his bar of soap and wash cloth, "probably should take a shower as well," he says to himself as he grabs the two items.

He walks towards the front door and walks into the hallway. The hallway of this tenement is a barely lit area with run down floors and cracked walls, accompanied by some roaches and even the occasional rat. This evening, the hallway is bustling with other ponies who also posses bat-like wings. While the kids play, the adults either make their way towards the exits on both ends or towards the public bathing rooms. The stallion makes his way towards the right, as that is the direction to the stallion's bathing room. As he walks, he hears a medium pitched, friendly voice behind him shouting his name, "Night Prancer, wait up," the voice shouts. The stallion known as Night Prancer looks back and sees another stallion bat pony with a dark purple coat and short midnight purple mane tail, with a smaller build and slightly shorter height than Night Prancer. It's his neighbor, co-worker, and good friend Midnight Storm.

Midnight finally catches up with Prancer, "you're up earlier than usual today," Midnight comments.

"I just want to get this day started and over with as soon as possible," Prancer replies.

"Kind of self-sabotaging yourself by getting up early aren't you," questions Midnight.

"Eh," Prancer shrugs and continues his walk, Midnight joins him, "anyway, why are you up so early as well? You're on suspension aren't you?"

"Don't remind me; the kids outside my apartment woke me up, couldn't go back to sleep."

"Well at least you'll get a head start on doing whatever you want today," says Prancer.

"I want to work today, but noooo, I had to get suspended because I spilled one small box of out dated fuses," Midnight remarks, with a saltier attitude than usual.

"Well that's what happens when our floor managers are a horn head and a dirt eater," says Prancer, "they'd suspend us for breathing if they could." A horn head and a dirt eater are what the bat ponies call the unicorns and earth ponies that they don't like, which is just about everyone of them.

"It isn't fair that they get to run us like that," says Midnight, his frustration growing.

"Every thestral who works there knows it isn't fair," says Prancer, "but that's the way it is, no two ways around it."

"They should let one of us be floor managers, thestrals should only be managed by thestrals."

"You know that's not possible," says Prancer, "look, why don't I help you get your mind off this non-sense? I still got a few hours before my shift begins. Let me go wash up and we'll go down to Donut Joe's for some breakfast, alright?"

Midnight nods. They arrive at the bathing room, Prancer turns to Midnight, "I'll only be a few minutes, meet down in the lobby." Prancer walks through the bathing room door as Midnight heads through a door right across that leads to the stairs.

Night Prancer walks out the main building doors and sees Midnight Storm leaning up against the building to his right. He walks over to him, "you ready to go," asks Prancer.

"You took longer than you promised," remarks Midnight, "did your wavy mane need more hair spray than usual?"

"Piss off," says Prancer as he playfully punches Midnight's left shoulder, "so do you wanna fly or walk there?"

"Let's fly," says Midnight, "these wings aren't just for show." With that said, the two bat ponies take off and fly towards the uptown part of Canterlot.

As they sore, they look down to see Lower Canterlot, aka their home. While that's the official name of the place, the bat ponies there call it by a different name, "Sanctuary definitely looks lovely tonight," remarks Prancer.

"Sure, if you find shit covered tenement buildings lovely," Midnight suddenly feels a wallop on his left shoulder, "Ow, what the hell was that for?"

"Come on man," says Prancer, "it may not be much but it is our home. Besides, it's--"

"It's not the buildings but the thestrals that make it home," says Midnight in annoyance, "I've only heard you say that like a million times."

"And it still holds true, we don't need riches or luxuries to be happy. This," Prancer points down to local market place that's bustling with other bat ponies, "this is all we've got and it's all we need."

"I guess," sighed Midnight, "but it could be better."

"How?"

"We could be living up there," Midnight points to the castle where Princess Celestia and Luna live.

Prancer laughs, "oh sure, all you need to do is be is an Alicorn princess that is able to raise and lower the sun or moon."

"Or I can join the Royal Canterlot Guard," says Midnight.

"Wait, are you serious," asks Prancer, "in that case let me laugh harder." Prancer mockingly laughs and Midnight takes it in annoyance.

"Well, why not," retorts Midnight, "It can't be too hard to join, plus I'm sure they'd appreciate having nocturnal guards for night shifts, the pay has to be a hell of a lot better than we make now, and I bet boarding is ten times more luxurious than our apartments. Why not join the Royal Guard?"

"Because we're thestrals," explains Prancer, "we lost our privilege to hold any military position when our ancestors sided with Nightmare Moon a thousand years ago. There's no way they'd allow our kind into the military, especially not one that's in charge of protecting the Royal Sisters."

"We lost a hell of a lot more than just military service," Midnight mumbles.

"Look, there's Donut Joe's," says Prancer, pointing out a building with a giant donut on it, "let's just drop this discussion and get some fritters."

They fly down to the front door of the donut shop and walk in. A bell rings as the door opens, alerting a bulky cream color stallion with a brown mane and donut cutie mark. "Hey Night Prancer, Midnight Storm," exclaims the stallion with a Manehattan accent from behind his counter, "glad to see you guys again, you want the usual?"

"Certainly Joe, and can we get some black coffee as well," says Prancer.

"You got it, I just made a fresh pot," Joe grabs a waxy like piece of paper and pulls out four apple fritters from his display case and places them on the counter where two stools are. Prancer and Midnight sit down in front of the fritters as Joe pours the coffee into two dark blue mugs, "So did you guys read about last night's hoofball game," says Joe, trying to stir up conversation, which he successfully does.

The three ponies talk for about thirty minutes about hoofball, arguing stats and who's the best player. They're talking so much that they don't notice two off-duty guards walking into the shop, one with a white coat and the other with a dark grey coat, they are still in their standard gold armor.

"Hey Joe," shouts the grey guard catching Joe's attention, "how about some bear claws?"

"Certainly sir, I'll get right to it," says Joe as he walks back to his display case.

The two guards sit on the opposite end of the counter, they both look over at Prancer and Midnight, who are avoiding eye contact. "Well, well," remarks the white guard, "it seems the blood suckers have finally decided to venture beyond their domain."

"Probably got tired of feeding on their own," says the grey guard, "now they've come looking for fresh blood."

"Actually," says Prancer, "we're just here to get some breakfast before we head to work."

"Well, before he does," says Midnight, "I have the night off."

"Ah yes," remarks the grey guard, "because why bother be a contributing member of society when you can hunt down and feast on the blood of other ponies?"

Midnight can feel his blood start to boil, "that's not what we do."

The white guard gets up from his stool and walks towards them, "oh please, that's the only reason your kind joined Nightmare Moon in the first place."

"That was a long, long time ago," says Prancer calmly.

"It doesn't matter," says the grey guard walking up to the white guard's side, "once a blood sucker always a blood sucker."

Midnight jumps from his seat and gets in both of their faces. Eyes angered, nostrils flared, teeth gritting and possibly considering on ripping their eyes out with his fangs. Joe, watching this ordeal begin to escalate, interjects, "now that's enough you three, I will not tolerate any sort of violence in my shop!"

Prancer calmly gets up from his seat and pats Midnight on the shoulder, "come on Midnight, let's go, it's not worth it." The two of them walk towards the exit, avoiding any eye contact with the two guards.

When they exit the building and make it at least a block away from the shop, Midnight lets it out. "They shouldn't be treating us like that! We've already paid enough for our ancestors crimes, we don't deserve any of this shit! How dare they call us blood suckers! Thestrals have never wanted to suck the blood of other ponies!"

"Midnight," Prancer interrupts his rant, "keep your voice down or you'll wake all of Equestria."

Midnight was about to react but he takes a deep breath and replies, "I'm sorry, I'm just pissed off at those two guards, it isn't right how they treat us."

"We know it isn't right but there's nothing we can do about it," says Prancer, "not you, not I, not even those protesters at the factory."

"Hey at least they're trying to spread the word about what's really going on!"

"You really think those horn heads, dirt eaters, and cloud kickers really want to face this reality? This reality of bigotry and inequality in the land of 'peace and harmony?' No they don't!"

Midnight wants to rebuke him, but he knows deep down Prancer is right. It doesn't matter what anyone does if no one is willing to force the rest the Equestria to look this reality in the eye. Midnight begins to huff angerly, tears begin to swell up in his eyes. "When is this going to end man," he says, voice cracking, "when is this going to end?"

Prancer walks forward and embraces his friend, "I don't know," responds Midnight, "it's going to take a miracle." He steps back and let's Midnight wipe the tears away. "Come on, let's get out here and somewhere else."

"But don't you to work," asks Midnight.

Prancer thinks about it for a bit, "well, maybe those fritters weren't cooked properly," says Prancer with a wink. The two chuckle and take off into the night sky.