Fallout Equestria: A Changeling Perspective

I never really figured out what drove ponies to drink alcohol or do drugs. The temptation just wasn't as pleasant as the backlash that they often afflicted to the user, yet it was the temporary release and impairment of reason that the drugs brought that made addictive. Once your were addicted though, there was withdrawal as well as the harmful effects that could happen just from the common ones. Hydra could stop your heart after it was done healing crippled limbs, rage would bring you into a senseless fury but your muscles were bound to ache for days afterwards from the excess stress and damage you were bound to make. Dash made the users perception of time slow momentarily as though on S.A.T.S. but in a combat oriented atmosphere, the bout of cockiness it also came with could get you killed, let alone the crash once you came down on that high.

That was just a few of several dozen drugs that existed in the wasteland, then there was combinations of drugs, like stampede which was buck, rage, med-x, and hydra which made the user a miniaturized version of a Brute gone feral. All of this was taught in the third year of education during health class, as a warning for changelings to only do drugs when needed in extreme circumstances in combat. So understandably, this knowledge not being used by every pony in this bar who were sipping away at ancient prewar wine or chugging down a recently made beer while gambling their caps away irresponsibly at the various high society tables that were placed around the rooms was a bit...disconcerting.

It didn't help that I had also been forced to strip off my weapons and pass them to the Casino owner for safe keeping. This left me feeling naked, at least they couldn't take my pipbuck, which they just glazed over and ignored it, guess they couldn't tell tell the model differences. So at least I had my taser in case somepony got within melee range during a fight in here. But what were the odds of that?

There was also an easy identifier from the ponies who worked here and those who didn't, consisting of a white suit or dress the employees of the establishment wore as well as the featureless blank masks that were universally fit to each stallion or mare and etched with faded gold markings along their edges. Though as I looked around, I couldn't spot Grey himself until I found myself circling around a large circular bar that decorated the center of the massive room. A pillar of shelving piled in its center as a not very busy bartender sorted out various mind altering liquids to its patrons. What surprised me however was that Grey was talking to somepony who had a guard that was armed despite the front desks insistence of no weapons being allowed inside the casino. I guess that meant either he was talking to a higher ranking member of the castles; which was highly unlikely when the guard was dressed like a storybook farmer cliche complete with matching shotgun, or that this was someone important to the castles.

I wandered closer to the group, keeping my distance from the guard's paranoid glances left and right until I was in Grey's line of sight. After a few moments he noticed me and waved me over, "Aria, welcome back, I was just talking to Stark here about you."

Stark, a white stallion with a blue mane and a darker blue beard chuckled, his voice as warm as a campfire, "Stark Winter, to be precise." He held out a hoof and I shook it, "Friend's call me Stark though, My body guard here is River Wall." he nodded to the farmer who gave a noncommittal grunt in return.

"Aria... Aria web." I replied, and he gave a slight smirk and nodded at Grey, "Real keeper, isn't he? Haven't seen him this happy in years."

Grey, scowl ever present, remarked, "You haven't seen me in years either."

"True, but last time we met you were yelling at the top of your lungs." Stark replied.

"Because you got my leg cut off and replaced with something that broke a few months later. Dismemberment tends to do that to a pony." Grey sighed and called to the bartender, "I'm going to need a bottle of wild pegasus."

Said bartender nodded and left around the bar for the bottle specified as Stark continued the conversation, "True, Grey. Speaking of which, where is your w-"

Grey had interrupted Stark with a hoof into his mouth, a cold glare interrupting Stark, and he seemed to get the point Grey was trying to convey with as he stopped yapping and sat quietly as Grey retorted, "You were there are her you-know-what, and I went after her-you-know-who. As for where that went, lost them fighting Bulldozer as well. Not that anyone went with me to help fight a power armored tyrant and his lackies."

"Grey..." Stark looked away guiltily, "You know that it was a suicide run, even with all of us around, what were we supposed to do? Follow you blindly into battle when you were acting in suicidal grief?"

Grey continued to death-glare and I swore that I saw a small spark fly out of Grey's eyes and into Stark's from the force of it, "I won, alone. We would of won, together with less injury had we all ganged up from the start rather than being afraid and letting him bully us until..." Grey sighed, "That is neither now or then for discussion. Where's my whiskey..."

The bartender pony showed up and dropped off the bottle and Grey passed him a few caps before uncorking the bottle and chugging it down as though it was a glass of water. He sighed again, "Look Stark, I'm not here to talk about that. Came here for some of that oil, considering both the Bishops and Castles have been strangely quiet and denying of any aid in exchange for their equipment, and your their source of weapon environmental oil for the Crystal Empire."

Stark seemed to relax as the conversation topic changed, But I remained confused, what were they talking about? What did Grey lose to this Bulldozer pony? Did it have something to do with his leg or something else? I considered opening my mouth to ask, but the lingering after effect of Grey's glare kept me from speaking. Stark broke the momentary silence next instead, "Right, right. I'd offer you my help, but you of all people know the deal Grey. You need something done and I also need something done first. Favor for a favor makes the whole world flow and all."

"And an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." Grey snarked back, "What could you possibly need Stark?"

Stark sighed, "My son, Blue Blight, vanished from here during a business visit with the Castles a few days ago without a trace. I've searched high and low for the colt, but I've had no luck in finding him anywhere in the public areas of this establishment."

Grey returned an obvious, but necessary question, "And what do you expect us to do about it?"

Stark grinned and I felt a shiver go down my spine, and not the good kind either, "I want you two to assist my investigator Grease Jar in figuring out where he went. We've already narrowed down that there is no way he has left the building, but they don't want us snooping down in their kitchens for some reason, and the rumors surrounding the Castles aren't exactly helping."

I spoke up, "Rumors?"

Stark looked momentarily surprised, as though he hadn't been either expecting the question, or that I didn't know. Grey, however, elaborated, "They're supposedly have something to do with the various species of vampire. Long dead rumor, might as well be bucking a dead tree since they lack all of the distinctions of a vampony."

What in the hay is a vampony? Or vampire for that matter, Stark looked puzzled at my own puzzled expression, "You mean you never heard of a vampire before?"

The elderly gray stallion shook his head, "Don't blame her, she was raised in a stable under a strict education, mythology was rather limited beyond their version of old Equestria propaganda and history."

Stark nodded in understanding, "Well a Vampony is a type of pony with blood red eyes, with a pair of bat like wings if they were a pegasus or a unnaturally sharp pointed and curved horn if they were a unicorn. Not sure about the earth pony variant but they all share both the ability of hypnosis through direct eye contact, and the ability to-" He coughed, getting into a nasally mocking tone of voice with what I could tell was a bad accent, "Zuck zur bludz. Bleh bleh bleh."

I resisted the urge to facehoof at the tone of voice. Grey merely deadpanned, "Worst Batula impression if ever there was one."

Stark rolled his eyes, turning back to his drink, "Anyway, just ask the pony at the end of the hall for the inspectors room, should be able to find him easy enough. Blue Blight is a blue colt of the age of eight with a shaggy green mane that can't be tamed if you see him, bring him back to me and I'll do more then just give you two as much cold weather maintenance oil."

"Sounds like a deal." Grey said, and I nodded in similar sentiment.

Together we bid goodbye to Stark and followed the directions to where we found the dark gold colored stallion in charge of rooms and the meals of the casino, who introduced himself as we approached, "Hello and welcome to the Castles, I am Life Lemon, planner and a board director of the black cat society. How may I be of service to you two?"

"Where is Grease Jar's room?" Grey asked bluntly, "Stark want's us to assist in the recovery of his missing son."

The large smile on Life Lemon's face wavered slightly, "Ah, the Investigator and our primary oil suppliers personal hound... Yes, he's up on the second floor, third door on the left..."

My curiosity gained the best of me, so I asked Lemon, "Any truth on this whole vampony business?"

I felt his momentary flash of worry followed by concern, which only proved that they still exist while he confirmed the opposite, "Once our society once practiced such acts, but now we are an entirely non-vampire community, and we have risen so much higher than such a low basic act. I hope you take it to mind that we haven't had a vampire in our community since our old relations with Mr.Horse fifty years ago."

"That'll be all, Lemon." Grey gave me a glare, and I shirked away from him as he lead me out of earshot towards the stairs up onto the next floor. When we had passed out of earshot Grey growled, "The more information you give an enemy on what you know about them, the more likely it is that they will keep tabs on your actions. Everything is on a need to know basis Aria."

I opened my mouth to elaborate my observations, but was silenced as Grey's hoof came up for the military signal for silence. Another old trick we were taught from an early age, and I complied by instinct. I realized what he was looking at, for one, the third door on the left on the second floor was opened slightly, and from the general nature of the Equestrian wasteland in general, society or not, that was a general bad sign that something had happened. Extending my senses I couldn't feel anything either.

"Uh, Grey, Not sensing any emotions from his room..." I whispered quietly, and he nodded.

My ears fought to catch his reply, even quieter than mine, "Proceed with caution."

We moved quietly to the door and Grey peaked past the door and grimaced before throwing it open to rush inside. My hooves followed his inside and I found out why the door had been opened and why there hadn't been any emotions inside here, the Inquisitor was draped across his bed, limp and what once might of been pure black fur had grown deathly pale white. He wasn't moving, and that was only punctuated by the two pencil wide holes that were in his neck. It was clear he was dead, and Grey's demeanor darkened considerably, "Looks like Life Lemon was lying about there being no vampires..."

I nodded, averting my gaze, "Was about to tell you that from what concern he felt from the line of questioning."

"I think its time we started-" Grey began but then we noticed the sound of the door opening, having shut it behind me when I had entered it was opening again, but this time there was two of the fancily dressed society members coming in.

They looked at us, and we looked at them. Then they drew their canes from the side of their waistcoats and charged forward. I rose my pipbuck to block while Grey engaged the second one, raising up on his hind hooves and placing both of his fore hooves on the mouth gripped cane of the second one as he charged. My opponent however began forcing me backwards with his quickly becoming apparent superiority in strength.

Where I had a natural advantage in height and having both wings and a horn, my scrawny frame meant that the earth pony I was fighting could wrestle me to the ground. I found myself being forced against the wall with a cane under my chin as he struggled to keep choking me, the world started to dim as I gagged for oxygen my lungs just wasn't getting, any attempts of concentrating my magic being halted by a knee to my exposed stomach. It took my remaining concentration to wham the screen side of my pipbuck repeatedly against the surface of the wall until the familiar buzz of the S.E.C. coming out rang in my ears and I jabbed it into my assaulter with all the strength I could manage. Then came the familiar zap and the stallion jerked to a stop and fell over, spasming.

As the cane fell away I fell onto my side, gasping for air. Grey himself was handling his stallion with moderate difficulty as the colt was aiming primarily at his hind leg, aiming to cripple it and leave Grey helpless, as I began to force myself up to help however, Grey bit down on something and jerked his head left.

Pew.

And now there was a hole in his attackers chest. Causing momentary shock to come across his face while Grey proceeded to unload a previously hidden pistol that had been tucked away in his coat into his attackers chest. The multitude of bullets now crippling the rather unarmored stallion enough for him to gain an upper hoof in his fight, and as my hooves pulled the rest of me upright, Grey delivered a final kick into the stallions mask and he fell back, knocked unconscious.

Of course, the first thing I asked was, "How did you do that?" followed by the more important, "Are you okay?

He spat out something and gestured with his hoof to his chest, "Fishing line used as a firing bit and a battle saddle with internal mounting. Make's a great hold out weapon like your S.E.C. does." He dug through the investigators body, eyeing over stuff he had on him while I stripped my attacker of his stuff and tied him up with a bed sheet and glued him to his spot of the room with wonderglue. That should keep him there for a while at least after it set. Long enough so that he couldn't alert anyone until the day was well and out. Not with duct-tape over his mouth and hooves and butt unable to leave the floor.

"Ahah, the Investigator has a witness." Grey said as he turned back to me, a match case balanced in a hoof, "Says here the investigator is to meet someone in thirty minutes." He nodded to me, "I'll handle that, why don't you put on that stallions attire and disguise yourself as him and try and get some more juice out of our yellow 'friend' downstairs. I'll meet you back near Stark when we're done. And remember this, if you find his kid, bring him back alive."

I nodded, their murder of the investigator and attempted murder of us only sealed their guilt. But we'd need more conclusive evidence, and Stark's son. Then, maybe, something unfortunate would happen to this pony napping vampire problem...

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Xp Footnote: 40% until level up.