Chapter 3: What Goes Around

“Do not throw the first arrow, which will return against you”

Killing.

It happens in the wasteland. Not only does it happen, but it happens all the time. It's just something that was always there, and as always going to be there. Ponies kill for drugs, for money, for food. . . Many of them do it just to survive, but most do it because they simply didn't know any other way. When it comes down to it, nothing will ever justify it.

The sick ones, though, do it for enjoyment. When I killed that merchant mare, I had hated myself for it. I felt sick, and empty, like a hollow corpse bleeding out in the desert. And when I killed in the Playpen, I new that I did it because I had to; it was the only way to survive. I justified it by telling myself; I did what I had to do.

But when I killed the caravan guard, did I really have to? I mean, I had to when I was chained up by Pops, but couldn't I have convinced Lily to go and ran away the night before? And the day before that, I didn't have to stay with Pops and the others.

The truth was that I didn't care. I'm not proud of the things I've done.. I've killed for drugs, I've killed for food, I've killed and killed and killed. . . And the worst part is, I've killed and liked it. It's hard to explain, when that hatred overcomes you, and all you want is the one you hate to die in the most sickening way possible. . .

It's easy to let it take you over, to just follow hatred to hatred, job to job. It's easy to just not think about what you've done and justify it, saying; they deserved it.

The hard truth of it, though, is that one day it'll all come back. Everything comes back eventually. Not just the killing, but the little stuff too. The things you wish you hadn't done, the things you wish you hadn't forgot, the things you wished you never understood.

The past will always be there, waiting for you; all the good, and all the bad.

Just remember this, kids; don't fuck it up.

* * *

I tried to move my numb limbs, but every time I did, they collapsed limply against the packed earth. I simply laid there and wheezed through my collar. It had taken some time, but the air no longer tore at my ragged throat.

I'm still not entirely sure why I decided to tackle the wagon. Well, the wagon driver, but then the rest of the cart had followed. Fuck, whoever designed those damned pre-war wagons needed to make them sturdier or something, if one pony could flip it. That damned spin out smacked my head hard against the asphalt. Somepony that could write needed to write the manufacturer or something. Too bad they're probably dead. Next thing on my shit list then.

My eyes snapped open as something smacked into my forehead. Dash? That's funny, I didn't remember finding any of that. Damn, my head hurt.

“Fuck, you must be more tired than I thought.” I could see Bit's hooves step out in front of me.

“Just dose me up,” I rasped, closing my eyes again, “I'll take all those other fuckers.”

“Heh heh. There's nopony else to kill,” She said, “But we need'ja on your hooves all the same.” I could feel the dash shoved into my mouth. I let my lips fall naturally around the familiar tasting plastic. I exhaled through my nose, and sucked in a deep breath just as I could hear the hiss of the cartridge emptying into my throat. The cool rush of the dash came instantly, flowing cold winds cascading through my tired limbs, bringing feeling back and shoving away the dull pain all in one fluid sweep.

Oh sweet, sweet Dash. I don't care if the fucked up sky was you fault, this shit named after you was amazing.

I opened my eyes again and stood up from the ground, almost bouncing with the force, shaking the distant reminder of the pain from the back of my head. I jerked my head around to see the wreckage of the wagon, which Lily and Pops were already searching through. There were a couple open boxes lying around, but the only stuff left in them was scrap and broken guns and things like that. Most of the food boxes and cans were already sticking out of the saddlebags. Hah, stupid weak ponies, needing to eat and shit.

Pops rummaged through the debris, intent on finding something while Trashcan gorged himself behind Lily's chain. . .

Trashcan. Thinking back, where was he in the fight? He hadn't done anything. Not one fucking thing.

I stomped off towards Trashcan, fuming. That dickhead didn't do shit. Somewhere in the back of my head, there was a part of me, calling out, screaming to take control. This was a bad idea, it screamed, shouting that, this would get me killed. It pulled me, but there was nothing to stop me. No way he could do anything about me. He was weak, and feeble, and thanks to a beautiful little inhaler, I was awesome.

“Ah shit,” Bit muttered behind me, “Pops!”

She followed behind me, but she didn't stop me. . .

I walked up to Trashcan and swung hard at his jaw. The impact shuddered down my shoulders, but the solid crack that popped from from his jaw as he flew to the ground told me it had been worse for him. I lingered for a moment, looking at the weak piss colored pony on the ground, nursing his jaw. It wouldn't matter, I was too fast for him.

“Fucking layabout fatass,” I muttered, “Stuffing your face while we put our asses on the line . . .”

You know, that gave me an idea. . . I picked one of the faded boxes of cereal he had at his hooves before he fell and tore it open with my teeth as I walked over to him. Pinning him under my weight, I shoved his thrashing form to the ground with a rugged punch. Holding his dislocated mouth open with my shoulder, I started to pour the ancient bran down his throat.

He started coughing, spitting half chewed flakes onto my face as his face snorted and writhed, fading blue.

“You still hungry, fatass?” I spat out, laughing out jagged, torn coughs of my own through my haggard throat, “Help yourself, it's on me.” My mouth cracked into a smirk; there was nothing he could do.

I shoved myself off of him, letting him stagger up momentarily, grasping at his neck as wet clumps of oat flew from his broken mouth. . . Then I slammed both my rear hooves into his neck, sending him flying back into a piece of rubble.

Bit laughed behind me pounding her hoof into the ground with elation. Damn, this felt good. My chest lifted as a broad grin grew across my face. I strutted slowly towards Trashcan, ready to strike him again.

Before I could do anything, though, the wooden stock of Pop's rifle flashed in front of me, slamming full force into my nose. I staggered back, lifting part way off the ground and scraping grooves into the gravel as I slid back several feet. Before I could turn and fight, the barrel of Pops' rifle aimed down between my eyes.

I thumped down on my rear, nursing my nose and testing out my jaw. Hehe, my snout kinda made a funny popping sound when I pushed it one one way or the other. Pop, pop, pop, SNAP! Damn, now that hurt.

“Dammit, Bit!” Pops shouted, not lowering the gun from my head, “If it takes a gun to keep him from fucking killing us, you're gonna' have to find a new pet!”

Pet? Was I a pet? If she kept giving me dash, I didn't care so much. Besides, she had nice flanks.

Pops walked over to Trashcan, who had just now fully stood up, “The fiend did have a point, though.”

I would have wondered what a fiend was if I wasn't so preoccupied with my own blood at the moment. I had never noticed before how after a few seconds it started to get all sticky, which made a mess on my hooves at the moment. I pawed at the floating rifle, wiping some of the crimson ichor on it.

Pops only shook his head, continuing towards Trashcan.

“You knew they were there, and you knew what we were doing, but you didn't seem to do anything,” He paused behind Trashcan, floating his own short barreled shotgun behind his head, “In fact, you haven't done much of anything. I would chain you up like Brick or Lily here, but you'd be less than useless.”

He leaned in close to Trashcan's ear, speaking softly, “Give me one good reason not to shoot you here on the spot.”

He gulped, shuddering where he stood, “Umm, uhh . . .”

Before he could finish what he was saying, the butt of the gun spun and slammed hard into the back of his head. With a flick of a knife, a surprisingly big one that I didn't know was even there, Trashcan's barding opened up at the back, and tore off of him, before stuffing itself into the saddlebags that he had left near where I was.

“I'd shoot you,” Pops said, “But it would be a waste of ammo. Bit, grab Lily and Brick, we've got all we need. Let's head back home.”

I felt the tug of my chain as Lily walked into place next to me.

“Oh, Trashcan,” Bit said, smiling mischievously, “Guess what's not a waste of ammo?”

Trashcan whimpered and dove to the side, trying to hide behind a piece of rubble, but a yellow glow circled Bit's spear as it lashed out regardless. With an almost sickening thud, the spear pierced the heavy debris, letting fly a shrill shriek.

I couldn't help but laugh. Good riddance.

* * *

Despite the heavy saddle pack put on my back, I couldn't help but feel like I had to move around. All this walking was making me jumpy. I needed to run. Walking back to Ponyville was admittedly faster, though. Surprisingly, there wasn't much in the wagon. Other than a bunch of chems, dash included, some cigarettes, and a bunch of mostly broken guns, there wasn't much. Unfortunately Bit got to carry the dash. I offered several times to carry them for her, but she simply laughed and insisted that she had to.

I did notice that Pops walked out with some sort of strange pre-war box though. I was sure it was something beyond what I could understand, having funny colored wires and stuff. It looked more like junk to me, but we had plenty of cigarettes to sell. It was probably important to somepony somewhere.

Getting nearer to the bridge, though, I could feel the dash start to wear off. Thankfully slowly, but I couldn't help but stumble a little bit as I was reminded again of the pain lingering behind my eyes. Just a little bit less awesome than dash.

“You alright?” lily whispered next to me.

“Yeah,” I rasped, grunting a little in pain, “Just got a little more fight from the asphalt than I would've liked.”

“Oi, you there!”

A light tug on the chain pulled me to a stop. Somepony had set up a ramshackle gate over the bridge. Ramshackle in the very sense of the word. Piles of junk and rebar had been piled into two heaps on either side of the bridge, adjoined by what looked like the undercarriage of a long wagon.

“To get inta' the town, ya gotsa' pay the toll,” Somepony bearing a grungy looking mohawk shouted down from the 'bridge.'

“What is this bullshit?” Pops shouted from the back, notably stinging my one and a half ears, “I been here four fucking times since this place was sacked, and haven't had to pay any toll.”

“New rules and all that,” The higher pitched pony shouted back down, “The Dragon's been looking to get more outta' his 'investiments'”

Muttering something about rough cut gems or something, Pops threw a carton of cigarettes up to the gate keeper. Well, there went one part of our plunder, if you could call it that. The pony on the barricade took a moment to examine it, before tossing it into a pile surrounded by chicken wire.

“One carton of cigarettes, non-perishable,” He muttered as he scribbled something onto a clipboard, “'Ere you go. No' so hard, was it? Welcome to Ponyville, and try not to kill anypony,” He waved us in halfheartedly, “it's a bitch to clean up.”

Just walking in I could tell things were different. While there were still those squiggles written all over the sides of the buildings, the corpses had all disappeared and most of the raiders wandered around one or two of the buildings, one of which wafted us with the pungent smell of alcohol as we walked by.

Pops walked about ahead of us, stopping short before levitating several objects out of our saddlebags into his and floating a small bag of caps over to Bit. And the chains unshackled around my neck.

Wait, what?

“Here, have fun. This next package should pay well enough. I'm gonna' see if I can't find a few extra sets of hooves, maybe some word of any new places we can hit. You should probably get Brick's head looked at before doing anything too crazy though.” I wonder if that was a comment on my intelligence or if my head really had that much blood. . .

“Oh, and Bit,” His eyes leveled with hers, “try and keep Brick from killing anypony.”

“Wait, what happened to being a pet?” I scratched my head. The past couple days were just a huge fucking mess, and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around any of it. I always thought chains meant slave. I guess things are hardly as definite as all that.

He only laughed, “Only if you push me. It was more just to keep you from killing Trashcan, but it was more trouble than he was worth. Turns out that you're more useful anyway.” Well, that was to be expected. This asshole was the one that did me the honor of introduce me to the Playpen.

“Just kill who I say, and you can have all the dash you want.” Now THAT was a deal I could live with. This guy was definitely not somepony to trust, and probably liable to screw me over at any moment, but every inhaler of dash was a beautiful blue box of respite from this fucked up world.

“So,” He asked, smirking, “We got a deal?”

“Sure thing, Pops,” I cracked a thin smile myself, extending a hoof for a shake. He shook it promptly before turning to leave.

* * *

“Hold still dammit!” The doctor pulled sharply at the back of my ear with his magic. With a sharp pang, my neck went stiff and jolted still, giving me a clear view of the wasteland sky. Apparently the toll had done some good for Ponyville, and a Doctor had set up a medical vendor. I wasn't sure how safe it was to be cutting ponies up outside, though.

“There,” He said gruffly, “Now I can fix you.”

“How the hell. . .” I managed to get out before getting telekinetically slapped across the face. I closed my mouth quickly, not wanting another hit behind the ear from him.

“You'd think you'd be less picky. I don't do this for free, and there's nopony else in town that's gonna' fix you up, so suck it up.” He shifted my head roughly, tilting it from one side to the other as he pered down his spectacles at me.

“Well, there's nothing I can do about the ear, but I can fix that concussion,” He said giving me stern look, “Goddesses know how you got a crack there, though. You get in a fight with a minotaur or something?”

“Asphalt.”

“Figures,” He said, turning to Bit, “ I got a spell that'll fix him up, it'll cost you 60 caps.”

Not bothering to argue with Dr. Bones, an appropriate name given how thin the aging pony was, Bit levitated out the fifty caps from the sack Pops had given her.

“Seriously, though,” I asked him, relaxing a bit now that he didn't have my head gripped with his magic, how did you do that?”

“Do what?” He asked, looking up from his counting.

“Get me to freeze like that,” I asked, my own voice as rough as his.

“Kid,” He said going back to counting his caps, “I used to be a doctor at Tenpony tower. I could dance a bullet out a skull without so much as a scalpel. It's just a matter of knowing pony physiology.”

“Fizzy-what now?” I scratched my head.

His face deadpanned as he stuffed the caps in his saddlebags. A book with a burnt and mangy covor landed at my hooves.

“It's what makes up a pony. Read this. Maybe you won't have to come by here again and I won't have to deal with you anymore. It's likely you'll just end up dead anyway.”

Cheerful guy. Granted, he was probably right. Still, I picked up the book in my teeth and placed it in my saddlebags. Not that I could read, but that didn't mean I didn't want to learn eventually. Knoing how to fix yourself would definitely be useful. Hopefully it had pictures. . .

“Now hold still,” He said as his horn glowed red and my neck locked up again, “This might hurt a little. . .”

* * *

“Okay, what did you call this again?” I sat staring dumbly at the tiny glass in front of me. The grungy yellowish liquid in front of me smelled incredibly strong, causing me to crumple my nose in discomfort. Not that the rest of this place smelled any better. If anything, the harsh, biting smell coming from the glass helped distract me from the overwhelming smell of piss in the bar. Technically that was the beer, but it all smells the same.

“It's tequila shot,” Bit said, watching the bartender pour her a glass as well, “The best way to waste caps yet.”

“Tequi-what now?” I rasped.

“Tequila,” She said with a smirk, “Just drink all in one go, like this.” She levitated up the glass and tilted it back, gulping it all down in one go. She shook her head, wincing, before slamming both the glass and her hooves down on the bar.

It didn't that look fun; and I had just gotten my head fixed.

I picked the edge of the glass up carefully before hesitantly leaning my head back as well. It sat on my tongue for a moment before searing into my mouth like some sort of acid. I tried to choke it down, but it caught dry and hot on my throat and shoved itself back up, hurling me forward to spit it back out. I slammed my hooves on the table as I tried to cough out the intense dry burning at the back of my tongue.

Holy fucking firewater!

I lay limp and wheezing over the bar, but Bit couldn't seem to contain her laughter, pounding her hooves on the table.

“C'mon,” She said, shoving another tiny, evil glass in front of me, “I told you, all in one go.”

I glared at the glass, intent on not making the same mistake as last time. I lifted it up and poured it strait down my throat. A hot stream poured down my sore throat and into my stomach as a strange, tingling feeling traveled up my spine. I couldn't help but shudder.

“Damn. That felt kinda' good.”

“That's the spirit,” She laughed, motioning towards the barkeeper, “This is gonna' be good.”

* * *

Time went kind of blurry after my third or fourth or so shot, as did my eyesight, and hearing, and I could barely feel my mouth anymore, but damned if I didn't stop there. My head felt like it was floating. Hell, I felt like I was floating, and I sure as hell didn't want to come down. How could something so tiny be so much fun?

Bit had been talking as we continued to drink, going on about her life before she became a raider. Apparently she wasn't born with a spear by her side.

“And THAT's how I earned this scar,” She said, motioning to the side of her cheek, where a small welt had formed up under her coat.

“Wait. . . wait” I motioned her to slow down with my hooves. Since when did they move so clumsy? “Just a moment ago you were talking about living in some cave.”

“Oh yeah,” She said, scratching her head after gulping down another shot, “It was less a cave and more a giant hole under a rock. We lived in smaller caves around this big tree in the middle. Great big ol' magic tree. Talked to us sometimes, but not as often as ma' said it used to. It was weird, but it was the only home I knew.”

Hold up, what?

“Okay, how drunk are you?” I asked, “A talking tree?”

“Yeah,” She laughed, “Grew out of an enchanted pool. That pool was dangerous shit, though. Once my friend Glowbright drank some. It gave her nightmares for weeks, and she started getting these visions. Completely nutty if you ask me.”

She shook her head around, as though she were trying to keep her balance, “Whether or not her stories were bullshit, though, that pool had some serious zebra level voodoo to it. Hell, I fell in by accident and passed out. Next thing I know, I'm pulling myself outta' that dumpster behind Sugar-cube corner.

“Fucking bad luck, that too. Less then an hour here and the whole place gets over run with raiders. Never seen a raider my whole life, and the first band I see is Dragon's clan.”

“Dragon's clan?”

She stared at me, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. “Are you kiddin' me?”

I shrugged, “I spent the better part of my life fucked up on dash. I'm lucky if I can remember how to talk.”

“They're only the meanest fucking raiders in the whole wasteland,” She said, waving forward another round of shots, “Hell, they're the ones that managed to kill nearly every fucking pony that lived here.”

We both lifted back our shots, slamming our forehooves onto the bar almost simultaneously.

“Anyway,” She said, shaking out her mane, “I think we should probably get going. Pops . . .”

“Why don't you stay a while,” A unicorn buck said, sitting her down again with his magic, smirking, “I'll buy you another round.”

He looked at me mockingly, “I can show you a better time than this no-horn.”

“Fuck off,” She said, trying to press herself up, but he easily shoved her back onto the stool. Apparently alcohol isn't too good for the magic.

“You got a problem with Earth Ponies?” I said, turning to look him in the eyes as he sat between me and Bit. He looked back at me, his hard, pale blue eyes promising pain and embarrassment. In my inebriated state, though, I didn't give a fuck.

“I. Could. Skin. You. Alive.” He said softly, daring me to make a move on him. The whole bar seemed to freeze, holding its breath to see what would happen. The silence was deafening.

Breaking his gaze, I leaned forward to grab the shot the Bartender had poured him to chug it down. That's right, let the liquid courage flow.

“You ever hear of Earth Pony magic?” I asked, winking at the bartender as I motioned for another shot. I had to steady myself before turning to shoot him a smirk. Damned, this was making me dizzy.

The bartender cocked an eyebrow at me as he filled the tiny glass for me. Probably since he was an Earth Pony too. Haha, yeah, I had no idea what I was doing, pal.

“Now look at this glass,” I said, motioning dramatically over the shot glass with a hoof, placing one hoof on the green buck's back. “Just a regular shot glass, right?”

I grasped it in my mouth and chugged it down, making sure to place it delicately down on the chipped bar table.

“And now, with a little of the 'magic potion' from within,” I said, leaning in close, “I'll make it . . . disappear.”

I stared at it intently as I leaned in close, willing it to disappear. He lowered his head down with me, confused as to what exactly was going on. My eyes crossed and burned as I focused in on it and. . . nothing happened. Okay maybe that didn't quite work out the way I had planned. Okay magic thinking juice, you got any answers? Well, there was always one way to make it disappear. . .

“It's still th .” He started to say, but was quickly cut off as I slammed the side of his face into the shot glass, shattering the glass and embedding the shards into the side of his face. I swept my hooves around roughly, shoving his unconscious and bloody form off the counter.

“Alakazam, motherfucker!” I wheeze-shouted out, waving both my hooves into the air.

The bar lit up, cheering and throwing their hooves into the air. I couldn't hear quite what was going on, but everypony was laughing and slapping me on the back, so I guess it was good.

“You think we can take a few more rounds?” A leaned over, asking Bit, as I scooted over to the now unconscious Unicorn's seat, throwing my own hoof over her shoulder. She nodded, grinning widely as her eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Gimme' three more bottles of your finest tequila,” I told the bartender, motioning my head to the buck on the floor, “Put it on his tab.”

Bit was right, this was good.

* * *

“Brick, wake up.” It was Pops. Where was he now? Damned he was loud.

I heard the creek of a door as a line of blinding hot light pierced through the darkness. My eyes burned with the brightness, which seemed not only to creep in through my eyelids, but past my shielding hooves as well.

“Go away,” I moaned, and turn off the sun on your way out.”

“C'mon kid,” He mumbled flinging something at me, “There's a bucket of water outside, soak your head, you'll feel better.”

Grudgingly, I pulled open my eyes, squinting against the harsh light peeking out through the half closed door. I glanced around the rook for a moment, trying to locate my mysteriously missing barding before standing up. Unfortunately, it was strewn about the dank room in random pieces. . . and the section of metal that was over my left flank the night before was in Bit's mouth, which was turned up in a satisfied smile.

Well, that explains what happened after the tequila.

Then it was just a matter of fixing the burning at the back of my eyes. What did he say to do? Dunk my head in the water. Okay, as simple as that then.

I pulled myself to my hooves slowly, trying to balance myself against how heavy my head felt. I shuffled towards the door, trying to ignore just how tired my back legs were. I closed my eyes in preparation as I leaned forward to nudge open the old wooden door.

The light flooded in and blinded me momentarily as I staggered forward to where I hoped that bucket of water was. Damn, this burned. I felt around as I stumbled towards the vague and fuzzy shape of a trough. Water, my hoof felt the cold morning water inside.

Not bothering to even hesitate, I closed my eyes and held my breath and plunged my head in. My mane felt heavy with water, and my neck felt as through it were pulling through mud. Bubbles of air escaped my mouth and stung my nose as I tried to wrench myself out. I staggered back as the world spun in front of me, sitting down hard as I gasped loudly to suck in air.

And then the wasteland decided to remind me of how bright it was out there. It took me about three or for more times to finally be able to see right, but thankfully there was only a moderate amount of stabbing pain at my temples left afterward.

“You have fun last night?” Lily asked from behind me. Unnecessarily loudly, if you ask me.

I nodded my head.

“Are you,” He said, leaning in closer to my head, “HAVING A HANGOVER!”

My eyes glazed over as my ears rang from the piercing volume of Lily's yelling. Grasping my ears I jumped backwards and rolled over, coating my wet fur with layers of dirt and dust.

“Lily I swear,” I threatened, pushing myself up. I jerked my head to each side, but I couldn't find him anywhere behind the soaked piece of my mane that had decided to fall over my left eye. I could, however, hear his laughter fade into the distance as he no doubt sped away from me.

I turned to get back into the room of whatever house it was that I woke up in, but something caught on my hoof, carrying one leg into the other and pulling me down chin first into the ground. I picked myself up and dusted myself off. Hopefully the rest of the day would go better than this.

Glancing down, though, I saw what I had tripped over; a set of four menacing looking horseshoes. Slightly larger than normal ones, these ones bore jagged and deadly iron spikes on the side. They were pitted and scratched with use, but no doubt they would still be dangerous in combat. Lily must have gotten them the day before. . .

I slipped them on quickly, before anypony else there decided they were theirs. They were a little heavier than I was used to, but there were a snug fit. I guess the morning wasn't so bad after all.

I strode back into the dilapidated room I had woken up in and started to collect pieces of my armor and place them back on. Most of it, anyway. By the end of it, it was all on, but not the same way it was on before. There were bite marks over parts that had to be switched around. By the end of it I managed to get the leather sleeves over each one of my legs, and I had gotten the metal plates belted back on, minus one above my right flank. The wagon tire still fit solidly above my left shoulder.

“Bit,” I nudged her gently with my nose, not wanting to accidentally stab her with my new horseshoes, “It's time to get up.”

“Ten more minutes,” She said, smiling as she rolled over on the mattress, clutching her spear close to her.

I rolled my eyes. She was going to need to wake up sooner if she didn't want Pops to leave her behind. I walked over to the window behind her, and bucked the flimsy plywood that had been nailed over it clean off. While the sky was still covered with those thick, gray clouds, the amount of light inside still changed dramatically, brightening the whole place up.

She rolled over and pushed herself up quickly, shielding her eyes.

“I'm up I'm up!”

* * *

Bit tugged on her armor with her magic as we walked towards where the fountain was in the center of town. It turned out neither of us knew where he was going to be, so we decided to go to the fountain. Well, she decided to go towards the fountain, probably because it was in the middle of the town and you could see almost everything from there.

Apparently Pops had the same idea, as he was wondering around the broken and empty fountain, craning his neck to look for us.

“There you are,” He said, wasting no time as he turned and motioned us to follow him, “I got some new hooves in. Those slavers near the tracks are lookin' for some help, 'cleaning house,' and I plan to help them.”

He led us out the gate again to where nine other raiders sat, waiting for us. There was one green one facing away from us, talking to a heavily scarred unicorn mare. One that scowled at me as we came closer. Nest to them sat three Earth ponies, apparently already drinking and passing around what looked like a hoofmade cigarette. Far to the right was lone unicorn with a very well kept rifle. . .

And then there was Lily, who at the time seemed to be playing with his chain. He hadn't gone without getting his own new toys either, as across his limbs more rail road spikes had been tied around him with leather straps.

Crossing in front of us, I saw Pops try to angle away that same package he had picked up in the wagon. I would have wondered what was inside, but then my head had started to hurt again. Hopefully I didn't break it with the tequila, or something I did after the tequila.

“C'mon boys,” Pops spoke loudly, to get the attention of everypony, “Let's be off. We don't want to miss all the fun.”

Everypony got up as they packed in their things, falling in line behind Pops. The green unicorn turned to follow as well. . .

And grimaced at me with his cut and bleeding side of his face. His familiar cold, blue eyes glowered at me.

“You!”

Wasn't this going to be fun.

Welcome to Level 3:

Perk gained: Drug Fiend- Nopony gets in between you and your dash! That or ANY substance you're addicted to. Any time you use a substance you are addicted to, you gain +5 to your damage threshold. Additionally, your withdrawals last half as long.

Note: You are now addicted to alcohol.

Author's Note

As always, thanks to Weegeekirby for editing this mess, though I'll probably still have to give him the password to my account and edit it anyway. There may or may not be Italics missing because I was too lazy to go through and put them all back in. Anyway, I was thinking about putting up an ask tumblr to this, but i'm not sure how all that even works, so it'd be cool if somepony interested that knew how to do that could teach me how to do that. Thanks for the read.