Fallout Equestria: Justice - Volume I. The Mare With No Name

Fallout Equestria: Justice

Volume I. The Mare With No Name

Chapter 3. No Caps, No Colts, No Custom

“We’re all on this road, with miles to go
Braving new pathways into the unknown
But who do you ask, when no one really knows
Where are we going from here…”

The world beyond the train car, (my prison… I suppose, of over a week) as it turned out, was quite bright… at least in comparison to the inside of Doc Mistle’s dark and dreary abode. The sky was cloudy, as was usual from what I gathered. The last day. The Last Day. One hundred and ninety three years ago a terrible decades long war between the great nation of Old Equestria and the fanatical Zebra Empire came to a sudden end, with slaughter and death. Balefire bombs, weapons of mass destruction engineered through an unholy union of alchemical magic, technology and reverse engineered mega spell frameworks (supposedly stolen from Equestria itself) were smuggled into the country and detonated in a coordinated strike on what the few survivors said was a sunny, beautiful morning. It would turn out to have been the very last sunny morning Equestria had seen for almost two centuries.

The pony nation retaliated swiftly and without mercy, launching hundreds of their own weapons against the zebra. But, missiles were fired by both sides, crisscrossing the skies. Had any of them collided? Had zebra rocket struck pony missile far above the earth? No one knew for sure. We only knew that the world ended when those weapons landed. Fillydelphia, Manehattan, Maripony… Cloudsdayle, city of the Pegasi, Equestria’s greatest fighting force, equalizers against the zebra menace… heroes of the Great War. My head was beginning to hurt. They’d sounded the order to retreat… pain pushed at my temples. Pegasi sealed… a dull throbbing behind my eyes… sealed… sealed… off the sky. I stumbled, trying to clutch at my head, falling down the short set of steps from train car to the ground, taking a surprised Candi with me.

“Ow.” I deadpanned, on my back in a rain puddle, Candi landing on top of me. I really hoped it was a rain puddle. Hello! “Oh.” I said as my vision came back into focus, imagined little Unicorn doctors with horrible invasive sex torture medical devices disappearing from their lazy circles round my head. Candi had fallen onto her stomach… on my stomach… with her rear end right in front of my face. Smile, wings now considering the possibility of pomphing. I had only just begun to enjoy the view when she rolled off me. Sadness, wings returning to normal.

“You okay there Darlin’?” Somepony asked in the cutest of voices. Were they talking to me? “Darlin’? You there? Irradiated earth to Miss Pegasus.” So they were talking to me. This would just take a second. Trying to concentrate… on memorizing… I mean on not memorizing my previous view like one of those old wartime camera pictures you’d occasionally find in ruins. When had I been in any ruins? That was a brain twister.

“Candy.” I said with a vague grin. The mare looked down at me curiously, raising an eyebrow. I coughed. “I mean, I’m good, sorry, just got a little dizzy.” I didn’t think it was the brightest idea to mention that splitting headaches occurred when certain memories surfaced in my mind. If there were any mental hospitals left in the wastes… I had no desire to visit and or become a full time guest.

“Oh Honey. Ah know you’ve got a sweet tooth but let’s try and focus on getting you better and showing you round the town first.” Candi said warmly. So, there was still hope then? Okay. I could walk around the little burg, feigning (good word, wonder where I’d learned it) interest in the train cars. I forced myself to my hooves, shaking out my mane and gave her a smile.

“I’d love to see the town.” I told her, not entirely truthfully. She smiled back at me. I’d pretty soon regret saying those six words, like really, really regret saying them.

New Appleloosa ( I was starting to get used to the name, it made me think of a quaint little western town out on the Equestrian frontier, which New Appleloosa… technically… was not) couldn’t be called a metropolis (for some reason that thought made me miss flying and flap my useless wings in annoyance). It wasn’t a city or an urban center. Heck, it wasn’t even what I’d call a town. Pretty much, it was just a little village… hamlet… thing. There were train cars, train cars and more train cars. Lastly, there were even fucking more train cars. I could have fallen asleep as we walked, (I might have even managed it for a second or two) primarily though, I fantasized about drinking… and other things.

Candi introduced me to the citizens and most of them were boring but good folk and depressingly sober, if interested in me, though sadly not in the way I wanted them to be. Pretty much the only standout was a young Unicorn buck with a coat like Mistletoe’s and a mane and tail that alternated between orange and beige. It reminded me of old fashioned sugar candy twists. The stallion worked as a heavy lifter and boy could he ever telekinesis the hell out things. I almost asked him if he could lift me up with his magic so that I could get the sensation of flying. Flying. It felt like a dream at the edge of waking, something I knew I enjoyed, loved, craved, even if I really couldn’t remember ever doing it. There was a hole within me that I didn’t think had anything to do with a strange bullet to the head or with a nasty case of metro rate ambrosia (that was what the doc called it, right?) but was instead the result of me being grounded, wings too weak to lift me, unable to fly.

Asking the buck to give me a quick and poor substitute for the ability to fly was the first thing I could think of as a use for his magic. I’m pretty sure that by now you can guess what the second thing I thought of was. Candi, party pooper that she was, hurried me away before I could ask Crane, that was his name, I think, about more creative uses for Unicorn magic. That darn delicious looking filly knew my mind far too well. Now, if she could only get to know the rest of me.

Disappointingly, after Candi spirited me away from the talented Unicorn, we went right past the saloon (my hooves wanted to stop, turn around and walk in) to a little corrugated metal shack. It was a refreshing change from the train cars but hosted nothing more interesting than a bounty office run by some sort of caravan group that had dealings all over Equestria that was. They offered contracts on everything from bloatsprites and radhogs to raiders, hellhounds and radscorpions. Apparently there were standing bounties on any denizen of the waste that could interrupt trade (which was just about all of them), paid out upon proof of death. The big one currently was a 1,200 cap reward for the pony that ended the problem of the attacks on caravans that were seriously impacting trade in the area and leaving no survivors. There were also contracts for patrolling the roads that were heavily used, clearing infestations that opened up new salvage opportunities, and, just like the mysterious stallion (with his stupid sunglasses) told me, bounties on alleged criminals.

There was even a worn and faded wanted poster for the no good ghoul piece of shit that wanted to mug my wounded flank and leave me for the vultures. There was a little drawing of him, along with information that included what his Cutie Mark was (a hay sandwich… really didn’t see that one coming), his name and aliases (the prick liked to call himself Licorice apparently, though wasn’t averse to using the names Dandy, Hay Bale, Hay Seed and Papa Lick… gross), whether he was wanted dead or alive (dead preferred, as a lesson, the warrant specified very clearly), the reward amount (900 bottle caps, enough to keep me hock deep in booze and bucks for quite a spell) and his crimes.

That was the part that really got me. Licorice the ass hole ghoul was wanted not for the rape, torture and eventual murder of five foals, but for breaking a slaving contract in having done so and thieving from the slavers. According to the document his transgressions involved: loss of revenue due to failure on delivery of pony youths for the purpose of sale, reneging on a binding legal document, misappropriation of resources. I didn’t even want to know if the resources were items he stole or baby ponies he fucked, cut up and killed. This… creature… this less than a pony, his very existence churned the medicine (and lack of alcohol) in my gut. The bounty was down though, sitting on a stack of other completed assignments. So, that crazy buck had brought back the evil fucker’s head after all. Good. But why hadn’t he visited me? Oh well, I was probably unconscious still when he came back with his bounty. May the stupid stallion in the sunglasses drink that whiskey he neglected to share, and may the son of a bitch who tried to steal and stab an injured mare (notably a lesser sin compared to his earlier ones) rot in Tartarus, fucked by fiery three cocked Minotaurs for all eternity.

Candi took me away from the shack when she noticed how worked up I was getting. Either it was turning her on and she wanted some one on one (or more, make it a party) time with me in one of those damn train cars or she was worried I would do something stupid and set my recovery back. I hoped for the first one and of course it seemed to be the second. Rotten luck, just plain rotten. The most interesting part of her tour, (so far) much more so than her near constant gossiping and chatting about this buck or that mare was the ‘Absolutely Everything’ store… interesting, nauseating (really sorry about that one), painful and hella’ confusing. I was also worried that the sign above the triple train car store was on the verge of falling on some unlucky pony below. It had seen better days and tilted dangerously but Candi paid it no mind so I tried to ignore it as well.

Discounting the bar, which we’d still yet to enter, (damn, but I was getting thirsty) Absolutely Everything was about the most exciting thing about New Appleloosa outside of the occasional raider attack or the large rumor mill (with bets and wagers ongoing in bits, booze and caps) circulating over the cause of the disappearing ponies in the nearby wastes. After my waking and unusual ideas about what had happened to me, Candi suggested to the townsfolk that aliens, things from another world, were responsible for those missing, abducting poor bewildered ponies back to their space ships for probing and experimentation. It hadn’t caught on as a serious contender in the gambling. Of course, Candi’d also made a new wager that the Enclave… there was a buzzing in my ears… the Grand Pegasi Enclave… I was grinding my teeth, pins and needles all over my head. Candi wagered that the Enclave was taking ponies up to the sky, above the clouds. I thought it out real quick, releasing a labored breath. As I turned my mind to other things the strange and unpleasant sensations left me. Hmmm… not quite sure what that meant but it was probably important… very important. I kind of tried to side think, like at the edge of my mind about the subject… until entering the store drove those thoughts from me.

It was a store, a real live store. Were stores ever really alive? Somepony once told me… couldn’t remember who… pain building in my sinuses… that the really good stores could come alive. Or maybe it was stories. Anyway, here I was, in a store, with goods, items, wonderful terrific purchasable things. I could go shopping! A huge smile drew itself across my muzzle (slightly crooked) at the idea of being able to buy things… guns and incendiary ammo, dresses and hats, fancy buck cakes and sugar apple bombs, Wingboner magazines and beer. Beer. Beer! Beer and whiskey. Whiskey and beer. I wanted to hug the shelves. I practically danced around the shop, to the amusement of a giggling Candi, the commotion drawing the propeller… rioter… piety… proprietor! Hell yeah, I was a smart mare.

It was about then I realized I didn’t actually have any money on me. I’d come into town with nothing but the Fable-Tec barding on my back. And, while it possessed many pockets of various sizes, some secured with buttons, others with zippers (I’d had quite a bit of fun playing with the zippers on the barding… until doc got pissed and made me stop), there was very little in any of those pockets. There was lint, some scraps of paper, a couple random shiny things that turned out to be rocks or pieces of pre-war techno-voodoo whatever and a few strands of mane. Not my color… if black was my real color. I don’t know, maybe my mane was dyed and I was going white, early, way too early. I was pretty sure I was in my mid twenties. The idea that my mane might be going gray… or in my case, white, spurred me to make a mad dash for the closest mirror, moving like a freight train (hehehe) through Mistletoe’s train car, upsetting all his medical science stuff. Doc had thrown that mirror at me with his magic once he figured out what I was tearing the place up over. It certainly turned out to be an interesting morning.

I found out, upon glancing in the mirror, that no, my mane did not appear to be losing its color or luster. It was however shaved over the left half of my head. I looked like some kind of bad attitude raider punk… which I liked in other mares but not on me. Candi laughed hard and long at the look of horror on my face in response to the sight of my poor mane. I spent the next fifteen minutes chasing her around the train car with a hoof knife threatening to do the same to her. Doc had separated the two of us, making Candi sit in a corner while I was forced to return to my cot… without any supper, stupid time outs. Didn’t he realize I was a big girl, possibly still growing? I need my calories. And I was beginning to notice that my mind has the terrible habit off wandering off at random. I needed a lasso.

“Miss Pegasus Patient, this is Ditzy Doo, she runs the Everything.” Candi made the introductions. The other pony was right in front of me but I was staring at the floor because I had no money to buy anything. “Ditzy, this here’s our ‘lucky to be alive mare,’ shot through the head out in the wastes… probably by aliens.” The other pony, with the unusual name, hadn’t said anything. She was bouncing around excitedly though, like a colt in a candy store… mmm… candy… Candi… mmm.

“Hi.” I said in unenthusiastic greeting. Lifting a hoof and looking up to meet the store owner. “It’s nice to me- GAH, WHAT THE FUCK? DON’T EAT ME!” I may have said a bit too loud (screamed). And, I may have overreacted a little bit (toppling over Candi, knocking into a shelf, scattering a few supplies and heading right for the door, which I only noticed too late was actually a pre-war poster and not the real door. Head, meet wall.

It was a few minutes before I was sensible again. And my wishes of seeing Candi, multiple miniatures of her, in nurse’s uniforms, dancing provocatively round my aching head, were dashed… by imaginings of a dozen tiny headless ghouls dressed as her and doing the same thing. I shuddered.

“You really gotta take it easy on your head hun.” Candi told me as she helped me back to my hooves. Ditzy Doo was standing nearby, halfway behind a shelf of soup cans, rusty wrenches and scarves that had gone out of style almost two hundred years ago, giving me a concerned look. At least, I think it was a concerned look. The owner of the Absolutely Everything was a mare… and a ghoul… and a Pegasus. She had a gray coat, falling away in patches to reveal skin and in a few places, tissue and muscle underneath. Her mane was the color of straw… what was left of her mane. It was cut short and had fallen out in places. Oh, she’d look so much prettier in a wig, with wavy blond hair, styled… and why in the hay was I thinking about playing dress up with a ghoul? I couldn’t see her Cutie Mark or her tail (hopefully it was more fully there than her mane) but I could see her eyes. They were golden hued, with a hint of orange, very attractive if only they weren’t staring in two different directions. One was looking kind of at me, while the other seemed to be studying the ceiling.

“And don’t worry darling, Ditzy’s gentle as a fly and twice as quiet. She won’t do you no harm.” Candi added, possibly uncomfortable that I was sort of… staring at the ghoul. “She’s been round forever, since before the bombs fell and a kinder mare you’ll never meet.” Candi nudged me a little toward the other Pegasus mare. I swallowed hard and held my hoof out again.

“Sorry about that.” I said as Ditzy gave a cautious, lazy eyed squint at my hoof. “The last zo… ghoul I ran into tried to stab me.” I waited a few seconds, worried that my first impression had soured the second and that she wouldn’t accept the apology. Then the mare beamed at me, giving one of the biggest smiles I’d ever seen on anypony, leapt out from behind her shelf and wrapped me in a big squishy hug. I returned her gesture a bit awkwardly; afraid that if I hugged back too hard the poor girl might burst. She smelled like old leather and musty hay with a faint hint of decay. Alright, breathing through my mouth now.

Ditzy released me and started jumping around the room, bouncing, gliding, smiling, waving her near featherless wings and making occasional clucking sounds. It was very unusual, yet festive. I was no expert, but I think she was trying to communicate with me. The problem was that I had absolutely no idea what she wanted to say. I scratched my head where the doctor had removed my mane. The darn spot was beginning to itch.

“Um, what’s she doing?” I asked Candi out of the corner of my mouth. Was it some sort of strange ghoul mating display? Because, I don’t know if even I’d hit that… and I’d hit just about anything… with a pulse. “And why won’t she talk?”

“Ditzy lost her tongue a ways back, courtesy of some not so nice folk.” Candi answered; for once her voice lost its bubbly quality. “Ah think she’s just excited to see another Pegasus, not often we get one here, in fact, ah can’t remember the last time ah saw one other than you or Ditzy.” Well duh. That was because the Enclave… yeow! Ouch, ouch, ouch. Brain hurting. What was wrong with me? Other than the obvious I mean. The ghoul made a mad scramble for the counter, hooves sliding across the floor hilariously in her haste to get something. She leaned over the counter, head moving strangely before turning around and holding up a small chalk board.

‘See sun?’ Was written on the board and Ditzy looked (as much as she was able) at me expectantly. No, no I couldn’t see the sun in here. We were in a train car; the ghoul must be losing her mind. Oooooh… wait, I get it. She wanted to know if I’d seen the sun before. That was a good question. Had I? The soft white blanket of cloud surrounded me like the thickest of fogs, I was chasing him… or was he chasing me? Upward we went, bursting into the blue, the mighty orb shinin-arrgghh. Sharp shocks of pain trilled through my head, forcing me to grit my teeth as my left eye twitched.

“Um, I don’t… know. Maybe… I think so.” I told Ditzy. Her eyes brightened at the information and then grew sad, watering as though she might cry. Could ghouls cry? Why was she sad anyway? Oh, this one I got quicker, sensitivity training kicking in. If what Candi had said was true, and Ditzy was a remnant of the wartime Pegasi… she remembered a time when the sky wasn’t a veil of clouds. She knew the summer sun and winter snows, autumn storms and spring showers. Before me was a living (undead?) relic of a time long gone, a pony of Equestria, not of the wastes. Here was a mare that had seen the height of civilization, the greatness of all that ponies could be and accomplish… and here was a mare that had seen it all turn to ash. Who would never be accepted in the Enclave, killed or forced out if ever she attempted to return to her kin. It had been 193 years since the world ended and Ditzy Doo, a Pegasus who still retained her wings (if not most of her feathers) may not have risen above the clouds to feel the true wonder of the sun in all that time.

And I understood loss. It was a loss different than a hole in the head or a missing past. This was memory, knowing things that no longer were; carrying on… continuing when everypony you’d ever known from your youth and adulthood was almost two hundred years dead. Did she still conjure images of the noonday sun in her mind? Could she still remember blue skies or the million stars, walking and playing in the clouds with other Pegasi? I didn’t know, all I did know was that she looked… lost… in the past, in what had been destroyed and would never come again… I just knew she looked lost and gave the startled ghoul the biggest hug she’d probably ever received, lifting her off her hooves and swinging her round and round till I fell over, dizzy, laughing, breathing hard. Candi was giggling and though Ditzy wasn’t making much noise she seemed to have enjoyed it, giving me a nuzzle that deposited a few strands of hair from her mane onto my nose.

I got back to my hooves after Ditzy, and then sneezed from the hair tickling my muzzle, catching the wayward yellow lengths with a wing and offering them back to the ghoul. She took a few steps back, grabbed something from one of the shelves and then preceded to wonderglue the hairs to the top of her head. Well, that was one way to keep from going bald… I guess. The other Pegasus looked at my flank curiously. Was she checking me out? I mean, I’d probably need a lot of super high proof moonshine to reciprocate… which worried me because I wasn’t immediately ruling out the possibility of doing it with a ghoul. Just as I was about to say something Ditzy spun around, found her chalk board and began furiously writing something. She wasn’t going to ask me out for drinks was she? I think I would find it hard to turn down anypony, even a ghoul, if there was alcohol involved.

‘Still have Mark. Not Dashite?’ The words on the board confused me for a second. The ‘m’ was capitalized… so she meant my Cutie Mark? Of course I still had it, too bad it was so boring and stupid though. Dashite? What did… hurrrrrr… agony. I clutched at my head with my wings, eyes shut tight, tears managing to leak out from the corners. I stumbled to the right only for Candi to catch me just before I hit what I knew was the shelf containing lawn and gardening equipment. Shears, rakes, hoes, shovels… not a good thing to run into.

“She’ll be fine Miss Ditzy, just fine.” Candi’s voice emanated from near my head, making my ears twitch. “Poor girl had Doc rooting around in her noggin and she can’t seem to remember much of anything from before she got here.” I opened my eyes again. The filly had stopped me just before I could engage in a close encounter with a stack of pitchforks. Good on her. The last thing I needed now was to take a rusty tine to the plot and get some kind of nasty infection. I turned my head around to the ghoul, who was holding the board in her mouth, looking at me with great worry (half looking anyway). One eye was on me; the other was rolling but focused mostly on the floor.

‘Okay? What wrong? Need doctor?’ Ditzy must have scribbled the words out while my eyes were closed and my body was moving toward hazardous metal pointy things.

“I’m fine. Sorry, just… headaches. I think the doc might have left half a sandwich, some mint-als and a few baby radroaches scrambling around in my brain when he stitched me back up.” I told the two. “And thanks.” I said to Candi. The ghoul meanwhile smacked herself in the head and started jumping up and down again, excitedly. She used a hoof to erase what was on the chalk board and began writing again.

‘Want to buy anything?’ Yes, yes I really did. But I didn’t have any money. Hey, maybe I could work as a greeter and guard for her, if she needed one. That would make me some spending caps wouldn’t it? And get me a discount?

“She don’t have any money Miss Ditzy.” Candi said to my great embarrassment. Gee thanks, tell everypony why don’t you? “Mare came here with nothing more than the barding on her back.” The ghoul gave a sad inquisitive look then another impossibly big smile came over her muzzle. She leapt over the store’s counter and began digging around for something, jumping back over and depositing a small sack tied off with a rubber band (and a very small amount of drool) at my hooves.

“What is it?” I asked, confused. It sounded jangly when it hit the floor. Ditzy started writing on her chalkboard again. Boy, it was a good thing she knew how to write… else she’d be down to drawing pictures and pointing with wings and hooves to communicate.

‘Loan. 80 caps. Interest free. Just spend some here.’ The Pegasus held up her board and fluttered her bedraggled wings happily. Wait? She was giving me money? Money that I would eventually have to pay back but money all the same… which meant I could go shopping! And drinking! I would like to make it clear that I kept my composure (jumped up and down happily hollering) and perused the store’s wares in a respectful, publicly acceptable manner (ran between the shelves, coming to skidding halts whenever I found anything interesting, blabbering away about everything I wanted). Candi stood there politely while I embarrassed myself through my lack of compost… closure… posies… composure… whatever.

And, while I couldn’t get some of the things that I really wanted, (an old machete on top of a shelf behind the counter, a beautiful flowery dress that might actually fit me, incendiary rounds and an old .44 caliber Ironshod Firearms revolver) seeing as how 80 caps wasn’t a huge amount… and I wanted to save some for the bar. I did get a few things that I wanted. The first was a large straw sun hat with a dark blue ribbon on it that matched my eyes (according to Candi’s comments and Ditzy’s nods) and also fit my fat head nicely, covering up the places where my mane was missing and hiding any visible signs of my recent beating to the brain pan. My second purchase was a box of sugar apple bombs that the three of us shared (And. It. Was. Delicious).

After that I got a shiny strangely shaped piece of metal that apparently came from an old pre-war sky carriage, (shiny things are fun) a pack of Marlbuck Reds with free matches thrown in, (I’d probably give a few to Mistletoe, seeing as how he let me bum and had been generous enough to defer payment on my treatment) a cute little woven cloth bag with a loop to put around my neck (for carrying things obviously), a small knife with a folding blade (only slightly used, blood stain removal was free) for stabbing things that tried to eat me and a big pink lollipop (because hey, at least it was one piece of candy I could lick). Total cost; 42 caps and I think Ditzy was giving me a discount, she must have really appreciated the sugar apple bombs (weird to see a ghoul eat them, even weirder to consider what must come out when she was… ahem… done with them) or liked helping a fellow fly girl out.

As I doled out Ditzy’s own caps, giving them back to her after they’d been in my possession for a scant few minutes, I took the time to put the hat on (at a jaunty angle that favored the maneless side of my head) and put my other purchases, lollipop not included, into the bag around my neck. Yup, the lollipop I kept out to lick lasciviously (watch out wasteland, I’ve got the fancy words now) while giving Candi flirty looks. It made her blush, and the ghoul, not in on the joke, got… ready… wait for it… befuddled! I love that word. And, now, I was getting really excited (no not that way) because, according to Candi, our next stop was the town’s saloon. This time I really couldn’t wait.

My head. Was. Killing me. And I had no idea why… which, sadly, was getting less strange as circumstances go. My eyes were closed and did not want to open. I was lying somewhere… somewhere I didn’t know, but it was cold and wet and I guessed dark, considering very little light was shining through my eyelids. My throat was sore, hurting, burning and my mouth was dry. Otherwise I felt numb but for the pain in my head. I gave a cursory sniff. Ah, the familiar smell of vomit as a result of overindulgence in alcohol. Well, at least I now knew why my head hurt so much, that or somepony’d shot me again. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Shot through the head but who was to blame? The thoughts made a sing song tune through my brain.

I remembered… I remembered going to the saloon with Candi, grabbing a few drinks, and then, nothing. Very slowly and carefully I opened my eyes. I was… on my back, legs splayed out (boy, was it me or was this getting to be routine?) and I think I was… behind the saloon, half covered in mud. Not the way I’d planned on spending the night but I’d found myself in worse situations… I think. No, so long as the hillside was worse than this (and I was pretty sure it was… I was hoping it was anyway) then I was right and this wasn’t as bad. Let’s see. It was dark (and cloudy) so night time probably. There weren’t any loud sounds coming from the bar, so it was probably after closing, making it sometime early in the morning. I was about to call out for help when what felt like a torrent of cold water landed on me.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” I yelled (and more than a little sputtered), shivering, spitting out water I’d in advertise… verdantly… inadvertently… gotten in my mouth. And, since I hadn’t learned from my previous experiences, I clapped my hooves over my face. Lord a Luna loo, goddesses that hurt. There was a soft chuckle from somewhere nearby and I moved my hooves, squinting and looked around to find its source.

“They said yeh wasn’t too bright. Yer antics in mah saloon proved that right quick. Didn’t think yeh were that dumb though. Yellin’ like a pony’s found she’s got an in at the Tower out in Manehattan.” I tilted my head back, putting my mane and the tips of my ears into the puddle. Not for the first time I really hoped it was a puddle of water. There was mud in it at least. Well, I hoped it was mud. Upside down, sitting on a barrel against the back wall of the bar was a middle aged unicorn mare, smoking a cigarette. The darkness hid her features but it looked as though she’d been quite fetching in her younger days, definitely worth a roll (or ten) in the hay but now it might be that a life of hard living had taken its toll on her. It was only conjuring…jester… gestures… conjecture. I’s got them fancy words, yup, yup, yup.

“Who in the flying Fillydelphia fuck foal are you?” I asked, belching and shuddering when the taste of vomit rose up and into my mouth.

“Owner of the saloon… bitch… owner of the saloon.” The mare answered as though it should be common knowledge. I groaned and with much trial (and a few tears) rolled onto my stomach, which just meant that I was now about totally covered in mud and what I had the sneaking suspicion was my own high proof barf. Barf, barf, barf. It made me think of dogs and puppies, but not kittens.

“What. Is. Going. On?” I asked, afraid to speak too quickly but less than pleased that some horn head slut witch that called herself a tavern owner was watching me lie in a drunken pool of various… fluids.

“Threw yeh out, bout an hour back. Caused one helluva mess yeh did.” The mare answered. “Yeah, could say yeh wrote a check that yer flank couldn’t cash.” She laughed at her own (lack of) wit. What, had I been hookin’ on the corner or something again? Oh goddesses… again? I hadn’t done it before had I? Not that I could remember. Oh thank you sweet merciful Celestia. ‘Then again,’ a voice in my head offered, ‘would you remember if you had?’ Oh no, not good. Shut up brain, shut up brain! I thought back. ‘No, you shut up!’ My mind fired back, surprising me. “You’re smarter than this.’ I am not! I shot back, realizing a second later how stupid I was for saying that as my brain laughed at me. Ugh, what I needed was whiskey, lots and lots of whiskey.

“What did I do?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer but trying to ready myself for it. There was that chuckle again.

“Yeh downed two bottles of whiskey, alon’ with a whole bunch of other things. Drank three of them railroad bucks under the table, a sight that was, fer sure.” The mare answered as I tried to get back on my hooves, but my legs wobbled dangerously and I let myself back down (collapsed) into the puddle.

“That… doesn’t sound too bad.” I told her truthfully. I’m sure I’ve done worse and would probably do it again.

“Yeh got up on mah bar and did a son’ and dance number. Yer decent on yer hooves but… let’s just say t’was a good thin’ mah patrons were too drunk t’notice how bad yer voice was.” She replied. I wanted to slap this bitch around for her poor grammar skill. I could barely understand the so called words coming out of her mouth. And, if she thought I was decent on my hooves she should see me off them.

“My voice isn’t bad.” I croaked then vomited into the puddle and backed out of it in disgust. The mare shook her head.

“Yeh made out with Crane, twice, after havin’ him fly yeh around the ceilin’ and Railright, yeh made out with him once. Almost came to blows between the two of em until yeh got them to agree to share.” Who the hell were Crane and Railright? Thinking… thinking… oh yeah, yellow buck, good with telekinesis and gray buck, dashing, calls himself mayor. Well, good on me, I thought, solving problems without violence, make love not war and all that jazz. “Made out with poor little Candi three times.” Oh I knew it, I just knew it. She was such a filly fooler. “Yeh broke one of my tables and three chairs, polished off a case worth of Buckweiser, Colt’s, and Mare’ner Genuine Draft.” Sounded impressive. “Challenged half a dozen ponies t’duels, some kinda nonsense about swords at dawn.” That was weird. “Started a brawl.” That… didn’t sound so weird. “And blasted chunks of ah don’t even know what all over mah prize juke box.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.” I said, getting to my hooves at last and swaying back and forth, coming close to falling right back over.

“Don’t need yer sorries.” The mare informed me. “Or yer long ass speeches about grand and glorious goals, slurred like a first time filly drinkin’ a beer. Somethin’ about zebras and pride and unitin’ the wastes under law and order. Justice this, justice that.” Really? I had done all that? “Scared off mah customers yeh did, the ones as hadn’t left already after yer previous displays.”

“So,” I said, trying to follow her line of reasoning, finding it hard with my head sloshing around like a half full bottle of cheap gin. “What do you need?” I wasn’t going to like her answer was I? Unless she wanted sex… that I could do… probably… even in my condition… let me just… wash out my mouth first and get the mud off. Unless (again) she liked mud and wanted to wrestle.

“Money yeh turkey, money.” She replied, using her magic to flick her cigarette butt into the puddle. The thing sizzled as it went out, making me think of bacon… mmm… bacon. And hey, I was not a turkey. I was a pony.

“I had 50 caps on me wh-” I tried to tell her.

“Yeh had 38 caps t’yer name when yeh walked into mah bar.” The mare corrected. Damn it. I was no good at math. “Spent it all.” Gree-aaat.

“Where does that leave us?” I asked, leaning against an old crate to keep myself standing. I was going to wince when she gave me the answer, wasn’t I? I could just feel a wince coming on.

“342 caps, turkey.” The mare said. Damn that wasn’t good. Maybe I could argue my bill down. “And Ah’m bein’ generous here. Took out what yeh had on yeh, yer winnin’s from them bucks, the dancin’ and flyin’ givin’ the customers a show, gettin’ ponies to drink more after seein’ yeh and Candi all hot and heavy.” Oh Candi, why had you forsaken me?

“Uh, yeah, I don’t… have that.” I said with a shrug and almost pitched forward right back into the puddle.

“Ah know.” The mare said, taking a sip from a flask. Ooo… alcohol, gimme, gimme, gimme. “Ah’ve already confiscated all the stuff yeh had on yeh inside and mah associate’s over at the Doc’s, grabbin’ whatever yeh had there as well.” She took my hat? Well shit then.

“So, I take it I’m going to need some way of paying you back?” I asked. She nodded. “And what do I call you by the way?” Nopony knew my name but I might as well know hers.

“Brandy.” She said proudly. Brandy, where? I’ll drink it so fast. “Apple Brandy.” The mare finished. NOOOOOO! Her name was Apple Brandy? She didn’t have any Apple Brandy? Son. Of. A. Bitch. But what was in that flask? “Yer the dumb pegasus what was shot of course. No one knows yer name.”

“I see I don’t need any introductions.” I said, spitting out some leftover vomit that hadn’t gotten stuck in my mouth.

“Just cash.” Apple Brandy replied.

“Now, not saying I can’t pay you, but… I can’t pay you all that. Where does that leave us?” Straight and to the point. So, half like me… hehehe.

Ah figure we got two ways a doin’ this.” Brandy replied pleasantly. “First, I take all yer stuff as collateral and then yeh find a way to pay me back. Ah’ll give yeh, say, three days to get me mah money.” She licked her lips. “Second, ah take all yer stuff and sell yeh to slavers.” Sell me to what? What me to slavers? From worse to shit again.

“You’re joking.” I told her flatly as her horn flared.

“Ah’m not.” She replied just as evenly, looking at me hard as something clicked around my neck. I looked down at it. What the hell? It was some kind of silvery metal something or other.

“Why are you giving me a necklace?” I asked her, not sure what exactly was going on.

“It’s not a necklace, yeh daft turkey, it’s slave collar, t’make sure yeh pay me.” Brandy scoffed. What was with this turkey business? A slave collar? But I wasn’t a slave. She wanted me to be a slave? Outside the bedroom? I don’t think so.

“That’s not gonna stop me from beating the shit out of you?” I growled, getting angry, advancing on the Unicorn. We’d see who the slave was.

“It will. Because yeh’ll explode all over this alley if yeh try it.” She said, lifting a small device in her magic. My necklace started beeping. Crap. I sat down hard, right in the puddle. Fucking Damn it.

“Would it take you with me if I hit you anyway and exploded?” I asked, holding on to a small shred of hope.

“Nope.” She said, turning to watch a Unicorn buck, just out of his colt years (he looked familiar) amble up to us… with my barding slung over his back. “Blows yer head up, and ah’d just keep yeh back with magic if yeh got t’close.” Damn it, hope fading. “That it?” Brandy asked the buck.

“That’s it, momma.” The buck answered. Momma?

“Ah told yeh, Whiskey, don’t call me that when we’re on business.”

“Right, sorry mom- Miss Brandy.” The buck corrected himself, clearing his throat. Whiskey, wait, what, where? Crap spackle. Whiskey was his name wasn’t it? Goddesses I hate these ponies, named after alcohol. It was too confusing; making me think there was booze when there wasn’t. Frustration!

“Any problems with the old codger?” Brandy asked, taking the barding from her son and looking it over.

“Doc handed over the barding just fine mo- Miss Brandy.” Whiskey answered and looked at me then away, abashed. “He was in a temper though when he heard about what Miss Pegasus did though.” A temper, huh? Would he still be willing to help me out? “Said he didn’t want to see her around until she’d settled this, since she hadn’t listened to his advice and got herself into this mess.” Fuck. There goes my first option.

“Good. We don’t want him gettin’ involved.” Brandy said, putting a hoof down in satisfaction. “No interference if we can help it, goddesses but I don’t like having to do it this way.”

“So don’t.” I interjected, staring at the muddy ground. How was I going to get out of this?

“Shut it yeh dumb turkey. Money is money and yeh owe it t’me.” Brandy ordered and explained, giving me a dismissing wave of her hoof. “Yeh left me with no choice.” Great, a sass mouthed slaver slut. Okay, think… your name here… think. How to get out of this problem, or fix it?

“Aren’t the rest of the ponies in town going to do something about you making me your slave?” I asked. Maybe they’d string up this dynamic duo and give me my freedom back.

“They know better’n to interfere, turkey.” Brandy replied, lighting another cigarette. Who was she calling a turkey? At least I didn’t have a great honking dildo on my forehead to make me special. Though come to think of it, it would be interesting to have that for the bedroom. “Now get yerself t’bed Whiskey, yeh’ve got openin’ shift come sunrise.”

“Yes momma.” The young stallion answered and trotted to the nearby back door, opening it and disappearing inside the bar. Brandy sighed.

“He’s a good boy, bit daft, but good.” She said as she smoked. What in the unholy zebra fuck? Was she really talking to me about motherhood, while holding some kind of key that would blow me up, and did I look like a mother to her? “Now, git yer flank outta mah alley and find a way to pay me, lest yeh wanna end up headin’ to the Ridge or makin’ the trek to Fillydelphia. Big new boss over that aways, needs lots of slaves and yer a healthy youn’ one.” She offered me a cigarette. Well, thank goodness she was being civil about this, though I’d prefer alcohol. I accepted and she lit it for me. “Now go. Find me some money so yeh don’t end up wearin’ that collar for any longer then yeh have to.” I (barely) resisted the urge to slam into her back. Brandy turned around and headed into the saloon, looking tired and old and a little regretful. Funnily enough it wasn’t that comforting to know that she didn’t like doing what she had done to me… cause the bitch did it anyway. But, I guess I could kind of see why, even if I was pissed off, and feeling like shit, and not too sure whether or not I would throw up again.

I sighed and looked around the dark alleyway, smoke drifting up from my cigarette. I wondered what had happened to my Marlbucks. The cold air was doing a good job of sobering me up but I was feeling cold, really cold. And I was covered in mud… and other things. So, I had some kind of exploding jewelry of death around my neck. It better look good on me to offset the whole deadly part. The clouds were thick above, promising rain maybe. Just my fucking luck. I took another drag from the cigarette and cupped my chin with my free wing. I’d gotten myself into trouble… again. Now it was time to dig myself out… again. And I was forming a plan about how to do it. But first, I needed to go see a ghoul.

*Experience Gained: 50% to level 2*

Be careful. You are developing an addiction to whiskey.

Perk Added: Wild Pegasus - Rank 1 – While drunk on any type of whiskey your Damage Threshold increases by 1, your Strength increases by 2, your Melee, Speech and Unarmed skills increase by 5 and your Luck increases by 1. However, your Endurance, Intelligence and Perception decrease by 1, your Barter, Science and Medicine skills decrease by 5 and your chances of becoming addicted increase by 25%. Your likelihood of waking up in strange places, possibly with strange ponies, remains the same.