Fallout: Equestria - The Meddler

by Mr Anomalous

Rating: mature
Tags: Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Adventure
Length: 3515

Of gas masks & wastelands, spent casings & radiation, of strange beings & creatures, one distant and alien . . . of meddlers and strangers, and entities unknown.

The Equestrian Wasteland is the byproduct of a devastating and sickeningly destructive war, one that took place almost four hundred years ago. The planet has yet to fully recover. However, for future generations at least, things are looking up. But something is about to happen that will change the life of one lone wanderer. She's about to gain a companion, a protector of sorts, one that isn't entirely . . . native.

- - -

The cover makes the story seem a bit . . . darker than it actually is. I mean, it is a Fallout: Equestria fiction, but it's not too incredibly evil and misanthropic.
The logo on the cover image (the "Fallout: Equestria" bit) - was made by Lightning Strike on DeviantArt, and the rest was thrown together by me.
This story was inspired in part by "Fallout: Equestria - Rules of Engagement." That story's a good one, but I think I can do better.
Have fun!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-08 04:00:03 UTC

I

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all of its contents."

Fog.

The entire world, as far as I've ever seen, has been blanketed in fog. Sometimes it's thin, but more often then not it's thicker than a river of overcooked oatmeal.

This fog isn't all gray either. Depending on where you are, the mist always has either a slightly yellow or slightly green tint to it. The disgusting colors will seep into your clothes if too much time is spent exposed. It's not harmful, it's just well deserving of a nose-wrinkle.

This fog is penetrated, in areas, by old rubble. Piles and pillars of bashed up stones and concrete, skeletons of smashed, twisted metal. And mostly, in this mist, everything is still, aside from the slow and lazy swirling and weaving of the ever-present fog. Today, however, in this particular area, if one were to look down upon the area with a bird's-eye view, then movement would be perceptible among the monochromatic haze, if you had a sharp eye at least.

I sat squatting above a rather twisted and bloody corpse of a recently-expired man. One of my hands patted among the mutilated cadaver, my fingerless gloves shielding my hand from at least some of the blood. My other hand grasped a long, toothed blade. The body had already been stripped of anything really worth it; no food, but a few rounds of mismatched ammunition, a couple of medical bandages, and the filter from his gas mask. Now I was stripping him of his meat. Not for me, mind you.

A little wet sound splotched across the old marble floor upon which I sat as a small, fresh cube of flesh bounced over to a large, hairless feline sitting a few feet away, who immediately pounced upon the meat and gulped it up.

I heard a set of scuffing footsteps approaching me from my right, but I knew who it was.

The steps stopped when the grew close enough, and my visitor was silent for a good while. Finally, he spoke, saying: "Do you have any idea how creepy that is?"

"No."

I cast him a look, his already dark form made more mysterious by the scratched and tinted lenses of my mask.

"Oh come on, grow some balls," came another voice, female this time.

"I can still have balls and be sensitive to the world around me, Casey."

Casey didn't respond, opting simply to lean back against the shattered pillar where she had been resting.

"What's that you got there?" I asked, breaking the momentary silence.

My male companion didn't answer immediately, opting instead to swing the duffle bag he was wearing on his back down to the floor and bending over to unzip it.

"I believe it's what's left of that," he gestured to the body at my feet,"one's cache."

"Oh? I thought he seemed a bit . . . lacking of gear."

"Oh he still is, but this is more than . . . well, whatever he had on him after whatever killed him killed him. What did kill him?"

I cast a look down at the body. "I don't know, but it was pretty brutal."

"D'ya think it's gone?"

"Must be; I'm fine."

My companion shrugged halfheartedly and sat down on a large boulder, seeming to settle down to take a nap, and I was content to leave him be. My attention was stolen by an impatient mewling. I looked to the hairless cat and smiled under my mask. That thing is adorable. I turned my blade back to the task at hand and began cutting once more.

"Nathan!" he jumped as I barked his name, "stay in my sight!"

He wears a mask, but I could almost feel him rolling his eyes. He is perfectly aware of the dangers involved in the Barrens (i.e. monsters, toxins, bandits, thieves, cannibals, wild animals, rouge robots, booby traps, the list goes on) - but his curiosity seems to get the better of him far more often that it should. Even losing a finger on his left hand hadn't taught him a lesson. I suppose curiosity is a good thing from time to time, but not in the aftermath of the Apocalypse.

The dark smog parted to reveal the orange-clad Nathan as he returned from the waves of sickly effluvium. "I just saw something glint, though maybe it could be a weapon or something. You know, I kind of need one of those, seeing as you 'n Casey are gun-hogs."

"Well, what do you want us to do? Handing over our guns would make us unarmed," Casey retorted.

I shook my head a bit and continued forward, my dark form cutting through the mist with my minions as I call them followed close behind, their half-hearted, many-had argument continuing.

"Oi . . . where's your creature?" Nathan inquired in an attempt to get his attention away from Casey.

"Probably off exploring."

"What? Why's that thing allowed to be curious and I'm not?"

"Because Cleopatra is quick, much more so than you, and, dare I say, an owner of sharper wits."

Nathan began to grumble to himself, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Here's a question: how come it hasn't been off exploring ever really before?"

"Not sure. Perhaps she knows the area we're in is safe. Well, safer than most places."

"How can she possibly know that?"

"She's a cat, she has senses about twenty times better than ours," Casey answered for me. As she finished her sentence and Nathan way about to say something else, a noise entered my hearing and I stopped, listening. My companions halted a step or two behind me. "What is it?" Nathan asked.

The noise sounded again, clearer this time, answering Nathan's question.

"Ah, it's just your creature. What's she sayin'?"

I stood silent, trying to hone in on Cleopatra's position, and again, she mewled. I started off in the direction, rather abruptly, intent on locating my pet.

"Hey, wait up!" Nathan, who was slower than both Casey or I, called indignantly. We ignored him.

As I drew closer to my destination, another, continuous noise joined the meowing of my cat. Again, we stopped, again listening to the Barrens.

"What . . . what's that?" Nathan asked quietly, his tone perplexed.

"I . . . I think it's music . . . ." I answered.

"Why for?" Casey asked.

"Not sure, but it's coming from over there." I started off again, my younger, orange-sweater-clad companion struggling to keep up.

Closer and closer the noises sounded, an odd electronic beat, joined every few seconds by the sound of a curious feline.

"What the hell is a trance song doing playing out in the middle of nowhere? You sure it's not a trap?" Nathan inquired, a shade of fear coloring his voice.

"No, but we have guns."

Nathan groaned in response to my pre-made solution.

"You guys have guns . . . ."

It took a surprisingly long time, but eventually the haze gave way to a rather odd sight. I halted and my companions did as well, standing, as always, a step or two behind my back.

Before us stood a tall, monolithic pillar of black stone. The music seemed to be coming from the top, which was obscured by the ever-present haze of the Barrens.

"Well, there's your creature." Nathan stated simply.

I looked back down and turned my attention to where Nathan was pointing, finding my pet as she sat on a boulder, grooming herself.

I gave a sharp whistle and she looked up from her activities and hopped off of her stone pedestal, approaching me rubbing against my leg.

"But the music . . . . " Nathan said in a quiet, disappointed voice.

"What can we do?" I asked, ready to abandon the oddity and continue on our ongoing journey.

"Well . . . does that look scaleable?" Nathan asked me.

"No."

"Well I'm going for it."

Normally, I'd stop him, but I, too, was curious, despite the dangers of that state of mind. I simply looked back up, struggling again to see the top.

Nathan jogged over to the base of the stone tower, trying to find footholds in the face of the rock, but failing. I moved my eyesight to my companion and watched in amusement at his determination to climb the stone face. Casey laughed loudly and brashly at his vain attempts. Eventually, however, this began to wax thin on my interest, and I began to get too comfortable. This, unfortunately, resulted in my exiting the world of the living and drifting into the dark world of dreams.

I was lead from my sleep when my foot was nudged by another, Casey's, and I sat up from my rock.

"What's going on?" I asked sleepily.

Casey simply jerked her head off in the direction of the black pillar that occupied the center of the clearing in the rubble, and I gaped.

Nathan stood at the base, gawping upwards and making no attempt to hide his wonder.

Up above, a massive blue light had somehow been turned on, at what I assumed to be the top of the pillar. The odd electronic music had stopped, and had been replaced by the light breeze of the Barrens. I was unnerved; I felt that such a massive, billowing light should be accompanied by some noise, but it seemed that there was none.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice heavy with belittlement, a great contrast to my true state of mind.

"I don't know!" Nathan whined shrilly. I saw Casey bristle in annoyance out of the side of my eye.

"Should we get out of here?" Casey asked quietly.

I was silent for a second or two, staring up at the odd, rolling light, and then nodded slowly.

"Yes. I think that's a good idea."

Casey gave a single nod and barked Nathan's name. Nathan jolted and hurried away from the strange anomaly. We all spent a few more moments staring at the light, and then turned around, ambling back into the haze.

Suddenly, I sound like thunder near deafened me and the brightness of the light increased.

As soon as I recovered from the attack on my hearing, I shouted, commanding: "Go!" I knew not what it was, but in the Barrens, you learn to run from bright things that made loud noises. Hell, you do that no matter what, I would think.

But as I made to take another step away from the danger, my foot made contact with nothing but air. For a terrifying second, I thought I was falling, but I simply rolled lazily forward, my body suspended in the air. Needless to say, I was a bit perplexed.

"Atlas!" my companions shouted in unison. Their worried voices drew me out of my stupor and I came to my senses, finding that I was, as mentioned before, floating several feet from the ground. My entire body was encased in an odd blue aura, the same color as the orb of light atop the pillar.

I traced the light with my eyes, and chills ran down my spine as I realized that I was being grabbed by an arm of light it; a long line of the brightness led from me to the light on the pillar. I began to struggle, trying to "swim" my way through the air and back down to my partners, both of whom were trying desperately to grab me and anchor me back to Earth. It was all useless, as I began to pick up speed and flew further and further from the ground, and closer to the light.

"Graaah!" I exclaimed hoarsely in frustration. This was bad, this was something that I couldn't fight. I couldn't shoot it, stab it, hit it, or even reason or barter with it. Whatever it was, I was helpless to fight it. I hung limply after I realized this, trying to keep the more grisly variations of how this could end from my mind. The alarmed voices of Casey and Nathan drifted away. I wanted to call out and tell them that I was fine, but, as of then, I wasn't too sure if that would last.

Seconds after I entered the thickest of the miasma that had previously obscured the top of the monolithic structure, the blue light became near blinding, even to the point at which the tinted lenses of my gas mask didn't help.

I turned away, bracing myself for whatever it was that this odd light, this creation of the Barrens, had in store for me. Surprisingly, for a while, it was nothing. And then I was falling.

As I look back on it, I think it was probably about a good thirty, forty, maybe fifty feet. It was a long drop, but not necessarily lethal, just painful. Of course, landing on your back and breaking it rather thoroughly doesn't make the whole experience desirable for anyone.

For the second time in the past ten minutes, I loosed a roar, this one in pain rather that in frustration. Shards of sharp heat laced up and down my back, reaching the tips of my fingertips and toes, and then zipping back up again, only to repeat the process again and again. My vision was becoming colored, my breathing labored as I struggled to get air back into my lungs.

It took a while, but eventually the pain receded to a bearable level, and I lay there, paralyzed.

Not being able to move is not a good thing, ever, anywhere, but in the middle of an irradiated wasteland, surrounded by many, many things that would like to kill you, eat you, or just hurt you for fun, it is not a good thing at all. Despite myself, I began to cry. This was more than likely the end for me. I had no means of healing myself, none at all. To make matters worse, Nathan or Casey, considering they found me, would probably have to put me out of my misery.

The feeling of despair grew more and more.

In spite of my sadness, I noticed that the sky . . . it was visible. No, not bright and blue and speckled with puffy white clouds and chirping birds, but it . . . it was there. I could see up more than ten feet!

The entire sky was covered in a rolling layers of clouds, as far as I could see. To most people, this would be gloomy, but in comparison to what I had seen for more than a quarter of my life, it was stunning. The grayness above me was heavy, but still distant, and it was a pure gray, rather than tainted with yellow or green. Again, to me, it was stunning. I, thinking I was about to die, welcomed the odd sky. It was then that the beautiful vision was stolen and replaced by the barrel of a very large rifle. It came out of no where, and I had honestly expected to have more than an scant few minutes to be found by raiders, but I was not surprised.

"My back's broken. Unless you have some way to save me, I suggest simply shooting my and carrying on. My weapon is beneath me, so you'll have to roll me over to get it. I don't know where my bag is, but the things I have on me are all decent enough."

I frightened myself with how ready I was to die.

To my surprise, however, the barrel of the gun began to quiver. And, to my borderline horror, I heard little sniffles. The person holding this massive gun in my face was crying. Despite where I was and the condition I was in, I found the whole thing amusing.

"What? Just-"

"What are you?"

The harshness of the voice startled me. The person holding then gun, it sounded like, was female. Her inquiry had been said in a scared and almost disgusted tone, but I could tell that she was still weeping.

"What do you mean? Do I look like a Walker or a Creep?"

"You're not a pony."

My mind stopped. No screeching, none of that, it just stopped. Pony? Did she just say pony?

"Pony? Of course I'm not a pony, I'm just your standard human bein-"

The rifle jammed into my throat, cutting off my sentence. This was rather stupid on the weapon's holder's fault, seeing as I had clearly expressed my willingness to die; this would not threaten me.

But with the barrel out of my eyes in in my throat, I could finally see my possible killer's face. Let me tell you, folks, it was nothing like I expected.

"A p-p-pony?"

Well, I had seen many odd creatures in the Barrens, radiation is a whore, but none of them resembled what I was seeing now.

This . . . thing, it was . . . somewhat equine, but . . . it was so small and, and . . . ah, a pony. It all made sense. And a magical one, at that, seeing as the rifle that had been stuck under my chin was floating all by itself.

"Just where the bloody hell am I?"

"Don't be stupid," the mare, spat, her tears dried. "You're in what's left of Equestria."

I sighed. "In case you hadn't noticed, miss, I'm not exactly from here."

"Then where the hell did you come from?"

"A place called Earth, not colloquially referred to as the 'Barrens,' seeing as that's all that's left."

I felt the pony's magical grasp on the weapon lighten slightly. "Barrens? What happened?"

Okay, first tears, then anger, now genuine interest. This was getting curiouser by the second.

"Uh . . . no one knows. All we know is that it involved a lot of radiation and a bit of reality-cracking."

The mare was silent for a good long while, apparently pondering what I was saying and trying to decide what to do with me. In fact, she voiced the latter, more to herself than to me.

"Well, I was ready to die, and we might just have to return to that . . . "

"Well . . . I do have some healing potions."

Why not?

"Are you're going to give one to me, and odd creature on the side of the road who may or may not kill you as soon as he can?"

"I don't know."

"Well . . . I'd be lying if I said I would really prefer to die . . . "

Again, the pony lapsed into silence. Had our positions been switched, I would be questioning what to do myself, do I didn't blame her.

"What's your name?" the pony asked me in a quiet, almost longing voice.

"That would be Atlas Ryker."

The mare frowned at the mention of my name. But hey, she was a unicorn, her name was probably something like . . .

"Violet."

"What?"

"My name's Violet."

" . . . Violet what?"

Again, the mare frowned. "That's it."

Alright, not exactly as magical pony-ish as I had expected.

"Are you telling me this because you have reached a decision?"

Violet looked at me, then at her weapon, and then the area around us. She turned back to me and said simply: "Yes."

Character Profiles:

Atlas Ryker -

Nationality: Northern English

Age: Unknown

Height: 6' 0"

Distinguishing Features: Atlas wears a long, thick, black and leather trench coat that has proved to be of use many times in the past. Not a single patch of flesh is exposed to the outside world. His gas mask is double-filtered. He also, surprisingly, wears a cheap black trilby. He is infamous for his voice which, in addition to being British, is really rather dark and raspy. It has been known to give people nightmares.

Nathan Hammond-

Nationality: Central English

Age: 20

Height: 5' 2"

Distinguishing Features: Hammond wears the brightest orange hoodie in the entirety of the Barrens, it is often noted. Aside from that and his regular jeans, he doesn't wear much else but a large, old, single-filter gas mask. He was born in a Shelter rather than the Barrens, and so is relatively unexposed and innocent compared to his companions.

Casey Allaway -

Nationality: Common Scottish

Age: 32

Height: 5' 7'

Distinguishing Features: Casey wears an sleeveless shirt and body armor, as well as a mask identical to Nathan's, albeit of a slightly newer model. Her short hair is naturally a very bright blonde, but she likes to keep to dyed green with a surprsing amount of methods. She is very fond of both her gun and her blade. No one, not even her companions know much of her past. She holds a rather brash personality, and it not feminine by any means.