Entry One: Hell(o) - A Prelude, Part 1
Entry One: Hell(o)
My name is Zen Star. I’ve begun writing this diary of sorts in the event that I die and somepony stumbles upon my corpse and, instead of just stripping me bare to rot in the wasteland or be fed upon by animals or raiders or Celestia-knows-what, they take an interest in who I was, where I’ve been or what I’ve done.
I guess I should start with introductions. You already know my name. I’m eleven years old, I have no Cutie Mark, and I watched both my parents get brutally dismembered by raiders. That’s a normal conversation starter, right? Sorry, got sidetracked there. Anyway, I was really young when they took my dad. Maybe four or five. When I was eight, they got my mom, too. They made me watch as they took a baseball bat and sm--
Sorry… Remembering that night made me sick to my stomach for some reason… I think a little vomit got on the page. I’d rewrite what was there, but I think it might happen again. I guess I just haven’t thought about it in a while.
Anyway, my memory of what happened after that is a bit fuzzy… I don’t know what happened to the raiders, because the first thing I remember after it happened was that they were all gone… No trace of them or anything.
Somepony else was there. They saved me. I know this. I don’t remember them at all, but I know. When I came to, the raiders gone, there was a big brown coat covering my mom’s body. I buried her right there, and took the coat so I wouldn’t forget any more of that day. But now I can’t even remember where it happened… I can never visit mom’s grave again.
The coat is way too big for me, even three years later. It smells of cigarettes and coffee, two scents I’ve grown fond of since I decided to wear the thing. I still don’t know who it belonged to, and believe me, I’ve tried to find out. Unfortunately, “pony of unknown gender wearing a duster that smells of coffee and cigarettes” isn’t really much to go on. Hell, I don’t even know if it belonged to a pony. It could’ve been a griffin or even a civilized hellhound for all I know about them.
So what have I been doing for three years without parents? Mostly I scavenge things. I travel around the wastes, doing what I can to avoid raider territory, and pick up whatever I can and sell it for however many caps I can get in the nearest town. It’s not a bad way to live, either. I’m really good at finding things other ponies can’t. I can walk into an abandoned house that’s been looted countless times, and still find a nice stash of caps or ammo. It’s all about checking the obvious place more carefully. The mattress, under which a father would have stowed some money, is always looked under but not really inside. If you know where to look, you’ll find a lot that you otherwise wouldn’t have.
Oh, remember when I said I do what I can to avoid raider territory? Well, unfortunately that doesn’t work all that well. For whatever reason, I just can’t seem to take the “raider-free route” anywhere. There was that one trip, but that ended me up in the middle of a minefield. Nearly didn’t make it out of that one… Just remember, explosives are not your friends. Anypony who tells you otherwise is either crazy or an idiot. Or both. Probably both.
For some reason, though, I can always seem to get myself out of whatever scrapes I get in, even with a profit sometimes. That’s where my first gun came from. I guess I’m a sucker for nostalgia, because I’m still using the damned thing. It’s a silenced .22, I think. I don’t know guns all that well. I just like this one because it’s quiet, unlike usual raider fare. You drop a round into a raider from hiding, the entire gang will start shooting and shouting and making a great big racket, which is nice to distract them from any goods they’re guarding, which I can just sneak in and take. I still don’t think I could take on a raider camp on my own, though. That would just be suicide. I’m just glad I’m sneaky.
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that I’m a unicorn. Although, if you found this from looting my corpse, you can probably tell that already. I can even do a bit of magic. I learned how to find food using magic a while ago, and more recently I’ve adapted it to finding weapons as well, since they usually sell so well. Of course, when I learned it, I wasn’t thinking that the greatest concentration of weapons would be raider camps. Stupid raiders, hoarding all the weapons…
My magic is still pretty weak, but I’m getting better. Hopefully I’ll be able to do something offensive with my magic soon. All I’m good for now is finding things, and I’m complete garbage at defending myself.
I’m writing this in front of an abandoned factory, waiting for a team to help me with the salvage. I put up a couple posters in a nearby town last night. I don’t think anypony saw me. I like it better that way. Ponies will take you more seriously when you put up a professional-looking poster, and will be more likely to help you out when they’ve already travelled out to the location in question, even if it turns out the employer is just a filly. I’ve got a good system. I limit it to a five-pony crew, and give every participant 15% of whatever I make on the run. It’s a good way to make a profit, and I don’t get myself killed in some stupid ancient trap.
Hold on, there’s a group of ponies coming. Hopefully they’re here for the salvage run. I’ll write more later, assuming I survive this run.Zen Star
Author's Note
And here we go! Another PlazmaticBrony story! Enjoy!
I'll likely end up recording each game session and putting it on YouTube. If I do, I'll link each journal entry to the corresponding session. Cheers!
-Plaz
Entry Two: Salvage Run - A Prelude, Part 2
Entry Two: Salvage Run
Well, that didn’t work.
I guess next time I post a notice for a salvage run, I need to make sure I kill the idiot who brings a loadout of explosives. Or at the very least fire him before he screws us all over.
Alright, here’s how it went down. I had a decent turnout, four stallions, one mare. One of them asked where the employer was. You should’ve seen the look on his face when I told him it was me. It looked like he didn’t know whether to be angry or impressed. It was pretty funny.
What? Out here in the wasteland, you’ve got to get your chuckles somehow. Boredom is the bane of survival.
Anyway, after I rallied the idiots, we got inside. One of them was a decent hacker, so he got to work on the front desk terminal, got into security and disabled turrets and security bots. Which was nice of him to do, but apparently these old factories had absurd levels of security with encryption or something; I don’t know, I don’t know computers. That’s the hacker-pony’s job. So, when he logged off the terminal, all the security junk “reinstated itself.” At least that’s what the hacker-pony said.
Before the security bot turned his head to chunky salsa.
Yeah, apparently the ponies who ran these factories thought it would be a great idea to make sniper security bots. So much fun…
The rest of the salvage crew fought like mad against that thing, and they were doing pretty well against it. I think it was almost destroyed by the time Mister ‘Splosion decided to pull out and light off his bag of grenades. I don’t think anypony told him this was a missile factory.
I managed to get out, but I don’t think anypony else did.
Yeah… I think they felt that explosion all the way in Trottingham. I guess the plus side is that the explosive dumbass removed himself from the gene pool. Unfortunately, he took some decent guys with him. Actually, there is one other plus side. I got a nifty hat and some cute clothes. I guess I’ll wear them for a while.
Well, I don’t have any caps left, so hopefully I’ll be able to get away with stealing some noodles and coffee from the town before I head out again.
My next mark is Trottingham. There’s a caravan heading that way, and I might as well join them. Safety in numbers, after all. I hear things have settled down recently in that area, and it’s under the protection of the Applejack’s Rangers. I think those are the good guys. Probably. In any case, there should be some good salvage there. I can feel it.
I guess travelling with others won’t be too terribly bad. Maybe. It’ll at least be tolerable if they’ll take me seriously.
I swear if there’s somepony with a loadout of explosives I’m going to shoot him during the night.
Alright, that’s all I got for now. I’ll write some more later, after some noodles.
Author's Note
Well, here's one last chapter before the actual game starts. I'll try to get an entry up tomorrow based on tonight's game. See you all soon!
-Plaz
Entry Three: Caravan
So far, the caravan trip to Trottingham hasn’t been incredibly eventful, but I thought I should update you just for the hell of it. We’re just getting settled in to the bunkhouse now, at the old Grab’n’Gulp Station, which marks a halfway point for our trek. It’s nice out here. No raiders in my sights for a change is pretty nice. I thought I saw a tiny little band of them out in the wastes, but I think the size of the caravan deterred them pretty well.
Anyway, let me take some time to tell you about the other members of the caravan, because there are some rather… interesting members.
Faultless the Pegasus: She seems nice enough, but “niceness” doesn’t get you anything out here in the wasteland, especially if you’re a little ditzy like Faultless seems to be. She’s kind of nondescript, but I get a feeling she might have something more, hidden away. She’s also way too optimistic about living in the wasteland.
Night Owl the Pegasus: He’s one of the quiet types, like me, and he seems more observant than everypony else. He may not look like much, but I think he’s okay.
Dusthoof the Buffalo: Now here’s a character for you. I was watching when she applied to join the caravan. It took a few moments for her to really get noticed, but her display was rather impressive. I don’t know exactly how she did it, but she made fire. Really hot, really powerful fire. Out of nothing. I think it might be that rumored shamanism stuff. I haven’t heard a whole lot about it, but it sounds like it could even be on par with unicorn magic, which is both awe-inspiring and terrifying. I would hate to get on her bad side, but if I play my cards right, she could be a really useful ally.
What? Yes, I think it’s cool that she can make fire. Summoning fire is awesome. Explosive fire is terrifying. Now if Dusthoof used explosives instead, it would be a hell of a different story.
Sureshot the Pegasus: Now here is an idiot for you. She intentionally aggravates the aforementioned fire-summoning buffalo. She doesn’t seem to understand the entire “the wasteland will chew you up and spit you out unless you keep your goddess-damned head down” thing. Judging by her name, she might end up being okay in a fight, but I really don’t want anything to do with this racist bitch unless I absolutely have to get involved.
Navé the Unicorn Filly: I’ve been travelling with her for a day. I already hate her. So much.
No, you have no idea how much this child truly aggravates me.
I’ve seen her type before, the spoiled child who, despite living in the wasteland her entire life, still expects to get whatever she wants, simply because she’s a filly. I hate ponies like that. She probably ran away from her parents or something. I don’t know, and I really don’t care. As long as she stays out of my way, there shouldn’t be any problems.
Oh, I think she got kicked off a couple of the wagons for being an annoying prat, poking the drivers and generally being lazy. Hell, if you’re gonna climb up on the wagons, at least do what I did and pull out some binoculars and keep a lookout for danger. Stupid child.
Yes, she’s a year older than I am. No, I don’t care. Yes, I still hate her. No, I won’t shoot her in her sleep.
Yet.
Bullet Drop the Earth Pony: He’s really gruff, but I can tell he’s kind of a softie. He stood up for Dusthoof when Sureshot was bitching at her, so he seems to be a decent sort. He knows his stuff and he does what he sets out to do. He’ll be a good asset to the caravan going forward.
Applejack’s Rangers: The Rangers themselves are exactly what I’d expected. Level-headed, collected, and armed to the teeth. Anything getting close enough to us to see these guys isn’t getting away unscathed. They’re probably the best thing to ever happen to the wasteland.
But that scribe… Something about him seems just… off. That’s the only word I can think of. Scribes don’t come out this far. What’s he doing all the way out here in the sticks? It must be something important. I just hope it doesn’t get us all killed.
Oh, that reminds me of the other reason I liked Bullet Drop. He got in the AJR’s faces and told them flat-out that if something they’re doing gets the caravan in trouble, he’d personally punish them. Or something. Yep, Bullet Drop has balls, alright.
No, that’s totally not hypocritical. Sureshot was being a racist bitch. Bullet Drop was looking out for everypony’s safety. That puts him on the moral high ground.
That freaky-big blue unicorn lady: I have no idea who she is or what she's doing on this trip. I didn't get to overhear her application, so I don't know what she can do. That dress... Could it be hiding something? No, no way. I'm just being paranoid, that's all. Get it out of your head, Zen.
The food: That meal was delicious. I don’t think I’ve eaten that well in a mon--
Sorry, I got a little carried away. No, I don’t want you to pity me. I’d erase it, but there’s no eraser on this stubby little pencil anymore, and I don’t want to use more lead than I have to. But, seriously, coming on this caravan was definitely a great idea. I’m going to hit the hay tonight, but I’ll write more when something interesting happens.
===
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I was wrong. This caravan trip was a terrible idea.
I think something attacked us during the night, and the Ranger Scribe burst in, gave some things to Faultless, (seriously? Why’d she have to be closest? At least give the stuff to somepony who seems the slightest bit responsible. Oh well. Oh, and if you’re reading this, Faultless, I have two things to say to you: first, no offense meant; second: you’d better put this down and forget anything you read, or I’ll make you regret it) and told us to go out the back and run to some garage out in the middle of nowhere, and that millions of lives were at stake.
So, naturally, one of the morons *cough*Navé*cough* thought it would be a good idea to go out the front door. Into the assault on the Grab’n’Gulp. Sure, you’re intelligent… It took a second to convince the idiot to listen to the guy who knows what’s going on. Such an idiot.
So we get out the back door, and either hoof or wing it all the way to the garage. Damn, that Buffalo can move.
Once we got to the garage, we turned back to look at the Grab’n’Gulp. It was burning. Yeah, that would’ve been a great thing to go straight into. I’m glad we were able to get out of there in time. Of course, we weren’t out of the fire just yet, because there was something big, perched on top of the Grab’n’Gulp sign. It looked kinda like a pony, but I don’t think there’s any pony in this world that freaking big. The worst part was, I think it could see us, out in front of that garage, with that soul-breaking gaze. Getting inside the garage was, at that point, mandatory.
Anyway, inside the garage. We take a look around, and I find a nifty little magazine. 1001 Things to do with Wrenches. Could be useful if Faultless wants Chips modified somehow. Oh, right, Chips is the spritebot the Ranger Scribe gave to Faultless, along with some kind of crystal thing. Anyway, I guess Chips was supposed to unseal the inner room or something, but that little show-off, Navé, somehow got it unsealed first. I have no idea how she got so good at matrix tech… Then again, I’m damn good at sneaking, so--
DAMMIT! I noticed earlier she had also found a magazine, but I didn’t see what it was until she pulled it out again just now: it’s an explosives magazine. I swear, if that little snot ever gets her hooves on explosives, I’m going to have to confiscate them from her before she gets a chance to use them. No way in hell is anypony going to blow anything up while I’m around.
So, apparently the inner room is some kind of laboratory or something. I honestly have no idea, I’m no good at science. Oh, and it’s magically sealed. That’s a thing.
Oh, lovely. I’ve found yet another reason to despise Sureshot.
She just tried to seduce Night Owl.
What the hell. Seriously, what the hell.
If this keeps up, I’m going to tase her. I swear I’ll do it.
Alright… That’s just about enough out of me for tonight. We’ve got a long trek ahead of us tomorrow, and we’ll need to be completely alert. I’ll update you again once we get somewhere safe.
-Zen Star
Author's Note
Okay, got it done pretty much on time. Now I just have to go through the recording of the session and see if I'll be able to put it up anywhere. Seriously, it's a 1.12 GB WAV file. That's fucking huge.
Also, remember these are Zen's thoughts, not my own. I do enjoy pretty much all the characters in the group, even if Zen finds them intolerable.
