Fallout Equestria: Wasteland Rhythm

By: Roachy

~ ~ ~

Hey there, Wasteland. Grave news today, I’m afraid. We’ve suffered heavy loss with the Bloodletters’ recent attack on Ponyville. Eyewitness accounts tell that there were no survivors of the massacre. I know, I know, children, but times will always be tough out here. We have to remain hopeful that things will get better or we won’t have anything to look forward to.

Someday, the sun will shine brighter, my little ponies. But we must endure the darkness. Can’t enjoy a sunny day without some rainy ones, right?

Right, well, instead of dwelling on the negative this time around, I decided that I have a story to share with y’all straight outta Baltimare. Remember that ruckus stirrin’ ‘round that area some time back? Well Ol’ Pon3 just happens to. And guess who just got some more info.

That’s right.

Literally from first-hoof account, we’ve got a special bulletin that will be told to you by me. Sorry the pony couldn’t be here himself, but he has his reasons. The recordings on his Pipbuck are pretty much all that we found.

He starts where it all began and works his way to the end. Now, this is not a short tale, no, but it will all be told. Understand that my broadcasts are not mandatory to listen to, but if you’d pay heed, it’d be greatly appreciated.

So listen up children, you just might learn something…

~ ~ ~

Prologue: The Stable

“I pledge allegiance to my X-Chromosome!”

“O? I don’t know how long it’s been, but…I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and…well…I’m starting that little project you’ve been bugging me about. I’m sorry it’s taken so long and…I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. I don’t know if you know what a memory orb is, but just think of it as the only way to do this right.

“I just wish you could bug me about it one last time…”

* * *

War?

War was a word that would whimsically appear within the articles of my history textbooks. I had never thought very much of the word, as it was just that; a word. A word lost within the annals of history that nopony ever brought up in conversation, a word that had no meaning to the ponies of Stable 47.

Whenever the word was mentioned in my presence, I would simply scoff at the sheer belligerence that was introduced into it. War is, unquestionably, just an easier way of saying ‘senseless violence over foolish actions.’

The truth of the matter is that war is nonexistent. So, why bother with the context in which it was used? Why not just allow its flame to diminish entirely until it is nothing but a flickering ember in the confines of our subconscious?

Because it’s part of our history of follies.

And if we don’t constantly remind ourselves of our past mistakes, then history is doomed to repeat itself until we do. And because of this, reluctantly, I still keep that word buried in the back of my mind.

Who needs to know about the history of a dead world when you could have all you’ve ever wanted in the serene safety of a Stable-Tec Stable?

Don’t get me wrong, I take a large interest in the history of Equestria. I just wish there was more information in the books pertaining to life before the war; when peace was shared by everyp… everyone…

Yet, the only knowledge I could glean from the text were about the Princesses, the work of the Ministry Mares, some vague rumors about Zebras and a few soldiers that helped turn the tide of the war.

I just wish I could have been there; to admire the gardens of Canterlot, to see the lives of the pre-war ponies with my own eyes, to learn about the Zebras from firsthoof experience…

Sometimes I really hated the stable…

* * *

Stable 47: a society crafted by the geniuses at Stable-Tec whom believed heavily in male dominance. To ensure a constant male hierarchy, the scientists of Stable-Tec concocted a special chemical called ‘Alpha’ that, when injected into the bloodstream, would travel to the womb to have the first foal in the family be a colt by some miracle of modern science, regardless of the initial gender.

No way that could possibly go wrong, right?

Another chemical known as ‘Omega’ was later introduced when side effects of constant use of Alpha became abundantly clear. It basically reversed the effects of Alpha and opted for the birth of a filly.

Or… at least that’s what it’s supposed to do.

Duly noted side effects of Alpha include: heavily reduced effectiveness of healing potions (guaranteed), a drastic change in eye color (158 recorded cases), infertility (29 recorded cases), coma (12 recorded cases), death (9 recorded cases) if the fetus was already male, the formula would seek out the one X chromosome in the egg and replace it with another Y chromosome, resulting in a mutation that caused stillbirth (7 recorded cases)…

…and the cutie-pox (1 reported case).

As for that last one, the poor mare, whose original cutie mark was a lunar crescent, temporarily gained cutie marks of a roll of duct tape, a rope tied in knots, a pair of pliers, hot coal, strips of leather and a metal muzzle.

According to dad, mom was never quite the same after that. He also said he’s never had so much fun in his life.

Ugh…

Even after Omega was released, the damage that Alpha caused over years of usage couldn’t be fixed overnight. While the future looks to bring balance back to the population of four hundred, for the moment, having only one mare to every three stallions does not make good odds for the stallions.

The medical staff has discontinued the distribution of Alpha until further notice. This would imply that they are going to be tweaking it and it may return at some time in the future. Sickening how such a harmful drug is being ‘improved’ to somehow ensure the proper gender gap.

Gotta love Stable-Tec, huh?

Oh, but here’s the best part! The stable is built upon the foundations of a monarchy: a foundation in which the Overstallion makes all the decisions of the stable and the Overmare who does basically nothing except for being ‘with’ the Overstallion.

The Overstallion must always be a unicorn according to prerecorded bylaws of Stable-Tec. This was due solely to the fact that they could harness magic to make apples in the orchard grow; creating a substantial, yet repetitive food source. Sorry, but after a while, nothing but apples opens little room for variety.

We tried planting cherry trees for a while, but they required a more humid environment to thrive, meaning we had to sacrifice rations of water from our talisman. In the end, it just seemed more productive to only settle for the one.

On the upside, the stable often sends out search parties to deliver news about the outside world. Though, it can’t be all that great out there considering, sometimes, members of the parties don’t come back. Because of this, the doors have remained closed in order to ensure the safety of the inhabitants.

One time, a search party returned with an injured mare who was, by order of the Overstallion, placed under the watch of the head of security. She doesn’t show up much around the stable anymore. Truth be told, I don’t even know her name.

But I digress. After all this time, I must admit, it’s hard to believe that the stable is even able to maintain the system that it does considering the severe differences in gender distribution. Not that it bothers me; I don’t have eyes for mares even though I’m ‘supposed to.’

Nope. I only have eyes for stallions, but I would never let the stable know that. I have to keep up a straightened façade in public around the stable, by order of the Overstallion. If word were to get around that the main source of entertainment in the stable wasn’t a happy-go-lucky flank-fondler, but instead a colt-cuddling, stallion-sticker there would be a lot of upset ponies… or so says the Overstallion.

Some ponies do indeed know of my preferences, but it’s only a hoofful at best. The Overponies know, my lover obviously knows… his parents know. And I’ve explained it to my little sister once to which she immediately turned around and told me she had a crush on another filly.

Go figure.

* * *

Now if you’re listening to this, and you aren’t me, it’s likely you didn’t grow up in a stable. Even if you did, your upbringing might have been very different from my own. So to help you understand where I’m coming from and how things ended up the way they did, I need to tell you about my past before I get to more recent events:

Once, there was a colt whose parents weren’t around very often when he was still in school. Even though their jobs kept them very busy, his father would periodically check on his progress. I wish I could say that the colt was a diligent student who sat at the front of the classroom willing and eager to learn… but that would be a boldfaced lie.

The Overstallion spoke of this colt with disappointment dripping from his words like water from the aged pipelines: ‘lazy,’ ‘good-for-nothing,’ ‘drain on the stable resources,’ that kind of stuff.

Most of his classmates showed promise in at least something that could be useful to the stable. However, despite scoring well on a number of aptitude tests, this colt just couldn’t find anything that really interested him. But given the selection of jobs in the stable, could you blame the colt for his reluctance?

First off, there was maintenance… too dangerous.

Death did not occur often in the stable, but any unnatural cases were usually located within the maintenance wing. These deaths were always gruesome and terrifying, even with the miniscule amount presented.

Once, there was a report of shrieks of agony coming from one of the maintenance tunnels. When a security party was sent to search the area, they found a pony by the name of Scraps, who now grimly matched his name better than he had in his entire life.

He’d been torn to pieces by the machinery when it caught his tail and mangled him in the gears. From that point on, ponies who work maintenance are required to cut their manes and tails to an unbearably short length. Yet another reason the youth wished to avoid maintenance.

There was security… too boring.

There were already so few things to do to occupy time in the stable as it was and being security is literally doing nothing to consume many of the agonizingly tedious minutes in the day.

Security has one job; keep order and peace throughout the stable. This is fairly simple due mainly to the fact that the stable is already peaceful. Outside of the occasional scuffle and verbal threat, the ponies of Stable 47 remained relatively civil.

Besides, security was for the ponies that weren’t too bright and he’s not stupid, just a procrastinator. Why couldn’t the Overstallion say that?

There was education… too stressful.

The colt doubted he’d be cut out for that kind of job, judging by how often he got in trouble during class. Besides, Podium, the current teacher, was young and already had an assistant.

There was medical… too messy.

Only the really smart ponies knew which medicine to give and how much. Dealing with blood and injuries? Way too gross. Not to mention the colt wasn’t much for taking on that kind of responsibility.

There was waste disposal… no comment.

He spent a majority of his time tapping his hooves on the metallic interior of the stable, which became a bit of a habit. He quickly discovered that he enjoyed the sounds and found himself attempting to put them into a rhythm; habit becoming hobby.

Eventually, his peers in the classroom heard him tapping his hooves on the desk and the floor and began to silently encourage him. He began to speed up, head bobbing in unison with the sounds as they bounced around the metal walls in the room. It did not take long for the noise to escalate and reach Podium’s ears, yet even he became engrossed in the resounding knocks and clanks.

The colt’s excitement reached its peak and his horn began to shine as all the sound in the room immediately dissipated. Neither he nor his classmates knew the exact nature of the phenomena that was about to occur. The knocks against the desk, the clanks against the floors, even the initial cheers from the classroom all became audible once more; all at once. They took the form of a chorus that manifested itself into a glowing cacophony of – what some of them called afterwards – music.

Following the event, one of his classmates pointed something out to him. Something that became a part of him and seeded his fate, planted in the soil of his life to hopefully sprout the fruits of his (lack of) labor.

His cutie mark.

It resembled what could only be described as a pulse on a doctor’s electrocardiogram; a yellow line that zigzagged across his flanks.

Those who were unaware of the events that transpired in his classroom that day often mistook his special talent for being some kind of medical pony. Which was funny considering the most he knew about medicine at the time was how to drink a potion.

A week later, his cuteceañera was celebrated and he was presented with his very own Pipbuck from the Overstallion which was subsequently locked onto his left forehoof. His smile would have been dashed if he had realized the device acted as little more than a weight.

He also received a stack of records and record player from his mom and dad, which appeared to have never been used, made apparent by the thin layer of dust blanketing both of the items. The colt wiped away the residue and watched as the gifts began to seemingly glisten before his very eyes. A toothy smile lined his face as he began profusely thanking each of the guests that attended his party, regardless of whether or not they had intended to come.

Sometime later, he learned how to record sounds via his Pipbuck and then play them back. He also figured out how to distort the sounds and have them repeat by interrupting the flow of the recording with a magical disruption.

But this passion for sound wasn’t considered ‘useful’ to the stable, so the Overstallion thought nothing of it and numbly told him to continue his studies until he found something that would be essential to maintaining the stable’s ‘harmonious state’.

One day, when he walked by the door to the maintenance wing, blatantly disregarding the Overstallion’s wishes, he decided to spelunk through the steel caverns and see if he could find some interesting noises to record. As he traversed through the narrow tunnels, he kept a constant watch on his Pipbuck’s map, making sure to stay away from any and all doors that were marked with the location of a machine.

That is, until he heard an enticing whirring coming from a machine labeled ‘W.T.D. 47, Water Talisman Distribution.’ Most notably, the groaning and splashing sounds coming from within the pipelines that protruded from the machine, extending from it and throughout the room and into the walls and ceiling.

He saw potential in the seemingly random noises. He started the recording device on his Pipbuck and sat back, waiting until he was satisfied that he had retrieved a substantial sample. As he exited the maintenance wing, he heard another set of noises. These ones from a pony, a mare specifically, coming forth from a nearby room that sounded like she was being hurt.

He slipped in the doorway, exercising caution in order to get a better look and possibly spring into action to help the distressed pony. He spotted the Overstallion on top of the Overmare when he suddenly realized that she was most certainly not being hurt.

His eyes widened and his cheeks went pale as he looked away, embarrassed by the sight before him. His initial thought was to slip from the room unnoticed… but an even better idea came to mind. Safely concealed in the shadow of a nearby crate he activated his Pipbuck’s recording device.

Once the couple finished their business and left the room, he emerged from the darkness like a bad omen, let out a hushed sigh of relief and quickly and quietly darted from the area.

Later, he went back to his room and tried to create a couple of songs from both of the events that were just stolen from the airwaves. After a few forlorn attempts to distort, lengthen, shorten and alter the captured data, he found that, separated, he couldn’t seem to create a tune that was just right, but instead ended up with a garbled mess of undecipherable garbage.

He was on the brink of giving up on his work, but he found that together, they culminated into a beautiful symphony by his standards. A few hours later, he managed to craft an ecstasy of moans, organic and synthetic, that burst into his eardrums with an unbridled force.

But, like any artist, he needed feedback from somepony. Not just from a few friends who could be biased, no. He needed a real audience. He thought and thought until an idea struck.

Waiting until the Overstallion and Overmare trotted out of their office toward the cafeteria to indulge in some of Cuisine’s ‘fine cooking’ (it’s difficult to create good meals out of the few edible scraps of food available in the stable, but putting spice on an apple from a Stable-Tec orchard is like using euphemisms to deliver bad news; you’re only sugar-coating crap).

When they made a turn down the corridor, he slipped inside, completely unnoticed. His eyes darted around the room in search of the intercom system’s master control. Quickly spotting the Overstallion’s microphone, he exaggeratedly sidled toward it as if it would assist in his stealthy infiltration.

When he reached the control panel, he felt a mischievous grin cross his face as he noticed the security monitors displaying various areas around the stable. Including where the Overponies sat to enjoy their meal. Pressing down the intercom button with his right hoof and telekinetically turning the volume dial up on his Pipbuck, he pressed the ‘play recording’ button.

The audible beep of the speakers coming to life resounded throughout the entire stable. The look on the Overstallion’s face was, as I remember it, absolutely priceless. His cheeks bulged with a mouthful of spiced apples as he gave wide-eyed blinks toward the nearest sound output.

He spit out his food and pelted Barricade, the head of Stable 47 Security and his brother, with chunks of chewed up pieces of apple. The large grey and black Earth pony stallion simply wiped a hoof across his face without even taking so much as a glance at where the debris originated and continued chewing.

The Overstallion calmly excused himself from the table and sprinted out of the cafeteria. First, the Overstallion realized what was playing throughout the entire Stable and, second, he knew who was playing it. He bolted down the halls at full speed, racing past each camera angle until he came before the one mounted atop his office’s entrance. The colt glanced to the clock on the camera feed.

Huh, ten seconds flat.

When he keyed in the password to open the door, the colt pressed the desk’s panel with his magic and closed it back in his face. This routine continued for a while before the Overstallion simply resorted to banging his hooves against the door and yelling at the colt to open it. He, of course, was ignored as the colt continued the song as both it and the intimate moments shared by the two ponies in the recording started to reach a climax.

The colt saw the close-up view of the Overstallion’s anger-drenched face and cringed at the sight on the monitor. He felt an overwhelming guilt weighing down on him as he wondered if he should open the door and accept his punishment. So, to quell these feelings of contrition, he looked to a different monitor and turned up the audio.

Keeping his mind off of his impending doom, he noticed something that delighted him; a vast majority of the ponies in the eating quarters and stable hallways were visibly enjoying his work. Some were giggling and others were grimacing at the sounds that perforated the initially calm atmosphere, but both sets were still keeping with the rhythm.

Back in the eating quarters, he noticed a mare covering the ears of her purple and blue haired filly with her hooves. The stallion in the security uniform across from her couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the worried look on her face. The filly looked at the smile across her father’s face and let a smile cross hers as well as they both started to laugh.

The mare expressed a sad look, but abruptly began laughing with them. She then pulled her hooves away from the filly’s ears and shoved them into her mouth to muffle her own giggles. The filly’s eyes widened as she grinned from ear to ear, head bobbing up and down to the beat.

With that, the colt felt content. He realized that his song was brightening up the days of the ponies of Stable 47, minus the Overstallion. He noticed the blushing Overmare with her head beginning to slump into her forehooves. A snickering Barricade put his right hoof around her in a failing attempt to comfort the abashed mare.

As the song came to a close with a final pump from the mechanism and the stallion, a very horny mare gave a shout of ‘Harder, you big stud.’ Her mouth dropped open and her hooves dropped to her sides. Without her hooves supporting her, her head smacked the table with a resounding thud.

Funny, because the monitors don’t pick up sounds.

His song played, the colt sheepishly opened the door and looked the Overstallion in the eyes, giving him the most innocent squee that he could muster. Before the Overstallion had a chance to berate the colt with comments about his uselessness, immaturity and breach of privacy, a group of ponies came to the office, smiling at the two of them. They wanted to know who had played the song and if there was any chance they could hear it again.

The Overstallion blinked in astonishment with mouth agape. He pointed to the colt, giving him a half-apologetic smile as he stumbled over his words.

“A-and that is why I’m here. To give this colt the privilege of providing Stable 47 with the much needed entertainment that it deserves,” he proclaimed as if it was his idea from the start.

This elated a few cheers and ‘congratulations’ from the growing crowd of ponies. The colt jumped up and down in triumph as his horn glowed and the sounds from the cheers were all absorbed.

When he let out a cheer of his own, all the ponies in the hall were pushed back; some fell on their haunches while others fell all the way on their backs. Barricade, still standing, simply looked around and let out a very loud “Ha!”

The purple and blue maned filly from the monitors emerged from the entourage of fallen ponies, made her way over to the colt, planted a big kiss on his cheek and thanked him. The colt scowled and wiped at his cheek, desperately trying to remove the cooties while she gave him a wry smile and walked back past the crowd.

Being the stable’s entertainer came with quite a few perks: being able to freely roam around to look for possible music and his own recording studio (which was basically a modification made to the intercom system to allow him to project sounds throughout the stable and the only personalized link directly to the Overponies’ office with which they could both bother each other incessantly).

Not to mention, the song that started it all became well renowned as ‘Crank that Flank’ which became a hit with the entire stable and the breeding ground for the assumption that he liked mares.

Strangely enough, his parents never congratulated him on his new position…

* * *

“Right, well, little did I know that more than just my fame happened to be conceived from that song. Wow, I was really immature back then…but, at least some of the best moments of my life came from it. I love you, O. Don’t you ever forget that.”

~ ~ ~

Well, that’s how the DJ of Stable 47 got his start. What happens from here on out is gonna be an account straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. I guess that about wraps things up for now.

Hehe, and next time I might even tell y’all his name.

Till then, stay safe children.

Footnote:

Traits Added: Humblebragger – You are an individual with kind words to say, but you can be full of yourself. Automatically gain +2 to Speech per level, but Charisma is -1.

Procrastinator – Due toyour lazy nature, you are normally seen as less of a threat in combat and are not taken seriously in many dialogue situations.

(Thanks to Kkat for creating this amazing universe. Thanks to Somber, Mimezinga, and FuzzyVeeVee for showing me that it is possible for a fanfic of a fanfic to be well-received, well written and enjoyable. Thanks to my pal Teraphim for doing any needed editing.)

[Quote: “X-Chromosome” by Kane Smego]

Author's Note

Yeah I know, the Prologue contains tripe. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

Teraphim's notes: So you see the fantastic writing of Roachy in it’s oh so exciting beginning. I can promise it has quite a bit more excitement in the first chapter, and the story as a whole will have it all: action, adventure, romance, horror, comedy, tragedy, and more than a bit of magic. I’d also like to point out the first of Roachy’s many unintentional pop culture references; I don’t know how many of you noticed, but the scene where our protagonist plays music over the P.A. system was reminiscent of a scene from “The Shawshank Redemption.” Roachy has never actually seen the movie or read the story so when I showed him the clip and he wanted to change it, but I wouldn’t let him. I found it fit perfectly and it was just too funny to let him cut it. Sometimes great minds just think alike, you know?