Same Shit, Different Wasteland

Knowledge is Power

The pair’s progress through the Manehattan ruins was slow, careful and tense. Despite his words, Moonbeam was not willing to trust him completely just yet. Thomas was finding the gun constantly pointed at him annoying, especially given the fact that the one holding it wasn’t facing him, let alone touching the weapon.

“What are you?” he asked, hoping to break the silence.

“Pony. Specifically, a unicorn,” Moonbeam replied. “What about you, Courier?”

“Human.” He shrugged when the pony stopped walking at looked at him. “We don’t come in any different kinds. Unless you want to count ghouls and Super Mutants,” he explained.

“You have ghouls where you’re from too?” the mare asked in disgust.

“Watch what you say, some of my best friends are ghouls,” the Courier growled.

Moonbeam rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to make any friends with those rotting freaks.”

Thomas just sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He glanced at the gun floating next to his head and smiled under his helmet. His left hand lashed out and snatched it out of the air.

Moonbeam’s eyes went wide at the sudden void in her telekinesis. “Hey!” she barked.

“Broken safety, bent magazine catch, and the receiver looks like it’s about to snap off. It’s a miracle this thing even fires,” Thomas muttered, going over the weapon with a very critical eye. What surprised him the most was not the condition the weapon was in, but its unnerving resemblance to a 10mm submachine gun from back in the Mojave. “Seriously, this is more likely to kill you than me at the moment.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Moonbeam asked, snatching the gun back.

“Exactly what I said. That thing misfires, or backfires, or falls apart in the middle of a fight, what will you do then?” he asked. “I don’t see another gun on you.”

“Well I... I...” The pony trailed off awkwardly.

“You’d end up raped, murdered or eaten. Maybe all three,” Thomas pointed out. “If you’re lucky, they’ll kill you first.”

Moonbeam just gaped. She couldn’t understand just how he was able to talk about this kind of thing so easily. “I-I could just use my magic.”

“And if you’re outnumbered?” he asked, clambering over a pile of rubble.

“I’d run.”

“And hope someone can save you,” he replied snidely. “If I hadn’t shown up they would have raped you, slit your throat and stuck their dicks in the bleeding hole.”

The mental image was almost too much for Moonbeam. “S-so what are you saying?”

“Get another gun. Something you can hide,” he suggested.

“Maybe I should get a bigger gun,” the mare mused, her thoughts contrary to the Courier’s. “A battle saddle?”

Thomas opened his mouth to ask just what a battle saddle was but stopped himself when the mare stuck a hoof in front of him.

“Keep quiet,” she hissed, eyes darting across the buildings.

“What is it?” the Courier asked quietly. He looked around as well, but stopped when he remembered he had no idea what to look for.

“Bloodwings,” the unicorn replied, acting as though that was all that had to be said. “We’re about to pass by a nest of the bastards. They shouldn’t wake up, but...”

Thomas didn’t feel like asking much else. All he knew was that anything with a name like that was certainly bad news. “They’re asleep?” he asked.

“As long as we keep quiet.” The mare looked up at the sky. “We don’t have long until night, so we need to be quick. You don’t want to be in the middle of those bloodsucking monsters.”

Thomas tensed. “Bloodsucking? You mean...”

“Just keep your mouth shut, and...” the mare trailed off. “Shit. Hide.” She slunk into the shadows, making herself as small as she could.

“What is it?” He found out a moment later. Approaching from the other end of the street was another pony. Only this one had wings and a horn. It’s coat was a dark blue, deeper than Moonbeam’s and it was much taller and slimmer than her, the strange pony’s head easily able to reach Thomas’s. Oddly enough, it was completely naked.

“Alicorn.” Moonbeam didn’t say anymore, instead looking at the door that led into the building they were outside. “Follow me.”

The building they had entered was dark, gloomy and dusty, on par with almost every ruin Thomas had ever entered. The only difference was that, instead of a human skeleton buried under the collapsed ceiling, there was a pony’s. As used as he was to treating centuries-old remains casually, he still frowned when the unicorn kicked the skull aside.

“This was not a good idea,” Moonbeam said, loudly, looking around. “I don’t know where to go now.”

“Why exactly did you drag us into this building?” Thomas asked angrily, not appreciating being left in the dark like this.

“Alicorns are really bad news,” Moonbeam explained, a hint of panic in her voice. “I have seen one tear apart an entire merc band. Ten heavily-armed griffons, and they all died. We don’t stand a chance.”

Thomas didn’t know what a griffon was, but if that naked pony was capable of killing ten well-armed Wastelanders, that was enough reason for him to avoid them. “All right, so - ” He was cut off by a ear-splitting scream and the sound of hundreds of flapping wings. “What was that?”

“The alicorn pissed off the bloodwings...” Moonbeam growled and started rubbing one of her temples with a hoof. “As if getting back wasn’t enough of a problem! Now we have to go through these damn buildings to get anywhere!”

“Calm down, it can’t be that bad.” Thomas’s hand reached up and flicked the small switch on the side of his helmet, activating the low-light optics. “We just need to figure out which way to go.”

The glow around Moonbeam’s horn intensified, her gun returning to its makeshift holster. “You say that now. These places are fucking mazes. We could spend weeks trying to get out and get nowhere.”

Thomas rolled his eyes as his HUD appeared. “Which direction is your home?”

“We were meant to turn right at the next intersection. From there, it’s three more blocks.” The mare groaned. “Not that there’s any point telling you this, we’ll be stuck here until the morning.” She looked up when he noticed him walk away from her. “What are you doing?”

The Courier was eyeing a door critically. Without any warning his foot lashed out and slammed into it, demolishing the rusted lock. “I ain’t sitting around ‘til morning. Let’s go.”

Moonbeam gaped. “Are you crazy!? Do you even know what’s in these buildings!?” she squawked, backing away.

“Raiders, ferals, robots, giant bugs. Take your pick.” The mare couldn’t tell because of the face-obscuring mask, but she was sure the Courier was smirking. “Calm down. You ain’t gonna die, you’re my ticket back home.”

And there was that reminder that he only saw her as something to be used. That’s all she was, a ‘ticket’. “You do realise that I don’t even know what you need fixed?” she asked angrily.

“You know this city better than me. You’ll know someone, or know someone who knows someone.” That just made the mare grind her teeth. How could he sound so damn confident!? There was absolutely nothing, nothing that ensured anything like that! “You gonna stand there?” he asked calmly.

Moonbeam breathed in deeply and sighed. “Fine. But only because if you get killed I can make a fortune off your stuff.” She hoped the statement would tell him that she saw him the same way he seemed to see her. He only nodded, frustrating her.

Their progress through the buildings was even slower than when they had been outside. They had to tread carefully, lest they fall through a weak part of the floor. More times than they could count they were forced to backtrack and go up or down flights of stairs, or look for another route entirely. Large sections of the buildings had fallen over or collapsed, creating bizarre bridges filled with turned over desks and filing cabinets.

All the while little reminders of the way Equestria had been were there for them to see, skeletons of ponies at their desks or at water coolers, ledgers and clipboards, smashed photo frames, their contents long since worn down by age.

More than a few times they passed skeletons that had a third pair of appendages that resembled giant spindly hands. Moonbeam went out of her way to defile the remains, unleashing some of her pent-up anger on them. “Why do you keep doing that?” Thomas asked after the tenth such desecrated corpse.

“Because those fuckers betrayed Equestria and let it burn. They let the Goddesses die, and they sit on their fucking asses doing jack shit.” There was a lot of anger in her voice as she punched a hoof through the brittle skull. “We have to deal with radiation, raiders, wild animals and slavers. They’re up there in their fucking paradise. Fucking pegasi and their stupid fucking Enclave.”

Thomas couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Enclave?” he asked as he clambered over a desk.

“I don’t know much about them. Just a few things the merchants have heard from Dashites.” Moonbeam sighed. “At least they decided to fuck the Enclave.”

Thomas grunted. He didn’t really think there was any significant chance that they would be anything like the Enclave that had been dismantled by the NCR, but there was no way for him to be sure of that. If they had guns that resembled ones he had seen in his travels in post-apocalyptic America, who could say?

As he passed one of the desks, he saw a sealed bottle on it. Getting closer he was able to read the label. “Sparkle... Cola?” he asked quietly. He snorted. All this place needed was Sunset Sarsaparilla and the Brotherhood and it would be like he had never left home. His smile faded when he saw another bottle labelled ‘Sunrise Sarsaparilla’. O... kay, he thought to himself. That is just creepy.

Doing his best to ignore the eerie similarities this world had with his home, he stowed the bottles in his duster. Maybe bottlecaps were currency here too? It certainly wouldn’t be a surprise at this point.

“I hope we went the right way, Courier,” Moonbeam said suddenly.

Thomas sighed and checked his Pip-Boy’s compass. They had been heading the right direction, he was sure of that much. But he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure they had gone the right distance. All that backtracking and searching for a way to progress had through the buildings had made keeping track of something like that almost impossible. “Try and find a window,” he suggested. “See if you can find your settlement.”

Moonbeam sighed and pointed to their left. “You wanna move half a ton of desks, be my guest.” Some of the desks had been pushed against the windows for some unknown reason, perhaps as some foolish attempt to stop whatever weapons this world had used to destroy itself. While moving them looked easy enough, Thomas knew that it would take far too long. Instead he turned to her, looking at her long enough to make her feel uncomfortable. “Why are you looking at me?” she asked.

“Don’t move.” That was all the warning she got before his hands found their way to her undercarriage and she was unceremoniously lifted above his head.

“PUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWN!” the mare screamed, legs flailing about at the sudden and unwanted change of location.

“Stop... moving...” the Courier grunted, barely making himself heard over her screeching. “Can you see... your settlement... or not?”

“YESICANNOWPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWN!” Her screeching was cut off when her hooves hit the floor. “Don’t fucking do that!”

“Damn you’re heavy,” was the only reply she got, the Courier massaging his arms to ease the muscle pain. He let out a cry of pain when her hoof collided with his knee. “Jesus!”

“You fucking do that again and I’ll fucking gore you!” she yelled, spraying him with spit. “The fuck were you thinking!?”

“That you’d be able to see how close we are,” he replied with forced calmness, rubbing his knee gingerly.

“Next time give me some kind of fucking warning, okay?” Moonbeam looked ready to spit fire. “That kind of shit is - ”

“Okay, you’re angry, I get that,” the Courier said suddenly, cutting her off. “Can we wait until later before you try and murder me?” he asked harshly. “Preferably after we’ve gotten you home?”

Moonbeam stared daggers at him. “Touch me again and I will cut off your hand,” she threatened.

“I’d like to see you try,” he scoffed, pushing past her, making sure to brush against her. “Everyone who has isn’t around to tell anyone anything,” he added ominously.

The mare ignored his threat and followed him to the old stairwell. They were currently four levels above ground, and progress down three floors went unimpeded. “Oh come on!” Moonbeam yelled. Unfortunately, part of the ceiling had collapsed just outside the door that would lead to the street, leaving them stuck. “What kind of sick joke is this!?”

“Calm down, we’ll think of something.” The Courier stood there calmly for a moment. “You got any explosives?”

“What?”

“We could probably blast a hole big enough to crawl through,” he elaborated. “Wouldn’t need much, either, one stick of dynamite should do it.”

The mare looked at him, agape. “You’re crazy,” she stated. “You’re completely fucking crazy.”

“This building survived the end of the world. I’m pretty sure it can survive a tiny little kaboom.” She could hear the smile on his face. His right hand rummaged around inside his duster. “I wonder...” His hand suddenly stopped. “How long has that been there?” he asked as he pulled out a single, crimson stick of dynamite. “I thought I used all of you against those cazadores,” he muttered to himself.

Moonbeam just backed away slowly. He didn’t notice, or care, as he carefully placed the stick in position. Reaching inside, he grabbed a lighter and lit the fuse. “Back up the stairs,” he said, rushing past the pony.

A loud explosion informed them that the dynamite had gone off. When Moonbeam poked her head around to take a look, she was pleasantly surprised and unbelievably thankful that there was now a hole she could get through. “That actually worked...”

“Perfect.” The Courier walked past her. “Hopefully no-one heard that.”

Moonbeam wriggled through the hole, scratching her barding. “It’s a bit tight,” she called through the hole. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard snickering.

After they were both through, she led the way again. “It’s in there,” she said, gesturing at a building. It stood out from the depressing walls of concrete and shattered glass by simply not having any. Instead, it was made of a white stone that had stood up well to the superweapon that had wiped out the city, it’s intricate carvings as perfect as the day they were made. A pair of large wooden doors, rotted with age, rested at the top of a staircase. Even from across the street they could make out the sign that read ‘Manehattan Public Library’. Beneath that was a smaller one, which said ‘Knowledge is Power’.

“You live in a library?” Thomas asked, sounding a little surprised.

“Most of the books are still readable, the walls are sturdy, most of the lights still work and all the ways in are guarded,” Moonbeam replied. “Come on!” she said, a spring in her step as she cantered up the stairs.

Thomas rolled his eyes and followed. When he followed her through the doors into what had once been a lobby, it was to see five different guns pointed at him. “Great,” he muttered in resignation before raising his voice. “I’d really appreciate it if you pointed the guns somewhere else.”

“Hey!” Moonbeam said loudly. “He’s with me!”

“Can’t allow that,” a third voice said, “with just your word for it.” An older pony, if his beard was any indication, stepped forwards. He had a brown coat, dusty-grey mane and tail and a strange contraption strapped to his back. Thomas looked at it, trying his best to make sense of it. There was what looked like the backpack from a Flamer, and a pair of... He took a step back when he realised he was looking at the business end of a heavy-duty flamethrower. “Well, stranger?” he asked.

Slowly and deliberately, Thomas pulled his rifle from his back. This action made everypony tense up, but he ignored them as he set it on the ground. He then kicked it over to the hornless pony. He then repeated this process with his SMG and Sequoia. He backed away from his weapons, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want help getting home,” he told them as he did that.

The stallion eyed him critically. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” He pushed the guns back towards him. “Keep your guns. If raiders attack, we’ll be expecting you to help us.” As Thomas picked up his rifle, the stallion spoke again. “Welcome to the Library.”

Author's Note

Character interaction is fun!