Fallout Equestria - The Big Easy

“I'm here today as a proud citizen and Mayor to declare the Temple of the Celestial Sisters an official Neigh Orleans cultural landmark!”

• Neigh Orleans' Mayor on the Temple

~~~~

Pain.

That's what I felt as I stumbled down the street to my next destination.

Getting tossed around like a ragdoll by a massive earth pony hurt. Sometime between my leaving the Carriage House Inn and reaching the downtown area of Neigh Orleans the bruises finally started to form. I spent most of the time stumbling and wincing in pain. On the plus side nothing seemed broken, but it sure felt like everything was. I vowed to never get into a close-in fight anymore if I could help it. It was like being attacked by the Overstallion but worse. The Overstallion had just been a surprise more than anything else. The bandit had tried to kill me, though, and had gotten damn near close.

To make matters worse the sky was getting gradually darker. It was going to start raining again - and soon.

I wanted to be inside before then.

I took a moment to stop and figure out just where I was. I'd never been into town and at this point I was totally lost. I had initially been following the main road along the waterfront to get to downtown Neigh Orleans. However one road I'd been on took a turn and now I had no clue where I was. The narrow streets were a labyrinth of tightly packed houses and alleyways. Without any hills and without the ability to climb a house there was no way to get the lay of the land.

Eventually I decided to just keep going despite the pain. Stopping to rest and moan about being lost wouldn't put me any closer to finding the Temple and getting somewhere safe. I had to keep pressing on.

The trek through the residential area was mercifully quiet. It was unsettling how quiet it was in fact. I became acutely aware of the silence of the city. I hadn't heard a sign of anypony else in the city besides myself and the bandits. For one absurd moment I wondered if I'd killed the only other residents of Neigh Orleans. It was a stupid thought and I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. That caused a stab of pain to shoot through my side. “Ah, fuck...” I grumbled.

My left ear twitched toward a sound. I hadn't consciously registered it at first. I stayed dead quiet trying to pick up on it again. It was a soft whisper of a sound. I turned my head to see what was there. A light blue house with its front door hanging ajar. A darkened interior stretched beyond. Some odd compulsion drove me toward the door. Call it curiosity or something like that. I tilted my head as I approached and heard the whisper again. I was nearly at the door when the wind picked up in a little gust.

The cracked white door slammed shut in my face.

I scrambled to get away from the door. Panic gripped me like a cold iron vice. I didn't even scream. I just tried to get away from the door. My hindlegs caught some mud in my escape and I went sailing backwards, four hooves pinwheeling uselessly through the air. I had just enough time to think to myself 'Damn, this is going to hurt' before my back slammed into the concrete sidewalk. The pain was like a lance through my entire body. I lay there groaning for a long moment.

Another wind gust came and bounced the door in its frame a little, causing it to slowly swing back open as if daring me to try and go into the house again. I knew better than that. I just tried to roll back onto my hooves. The pain from the bruises flared up again and I decided to just lay there for a moment.

The first drops of rain hit my coat no more than ten seconds later.

Great.

~~

I eventually did get back on my hooves. I wasn't going to let some door defeat me that easily. I still had no idea where I was of course but I just wanted to leave that neighbourhood behind. The damn door had kept rattling in its frame, almost mockingly, and I'd decided to just leave it behind.

I had hoped the rain would remain a drizzle. No dice. Martingale did get occasional periods of sun, where the blue sky and the warm light penetrated the clouds, but we paid for it with long periods of gloomy clouds and rain. On the upside the rain cut the heat a bit. See? Always a silver lining.

At every side street I made sure to look for some form of landmark to place where I was in the city. Eventually I found one. A black spire that soared above the buildings. Atop the spire was a crooked metal bar with a round disc on top. The disc looked like half a sun and half of a crescent moon. I knew very little of the pony Goddesses but I did know one had a moon for a cutie mark and the other had a sun for cutie mark. I couldn't imagine a Temple being built for anypony but a Goddess or two, so that had to be it.

I turned up the side street I'd seen the spire on. It was quite a ways into the city already. With the rain falling on my head and the dull pain aching through my body I knew I'd have to stop at one point. Determination only got you so far. In the end, eventually you'd have to stop to eat and rest your hooves.

The buildings changed subtly around me. Gone were scorched trees and separated houses each with their own little yards. Buildings were getting closer together now, a bit taller. Two storeys instead of one. I was never one to feel claustrophobic but even I was starting to feel a little off-put by how close the buildings were. Narrow streets and tightly packed buildings made it feel like the city was starting to close in around me. I felt nervous and my eyes kept moving around to doorways and windows as if expecting somepony to jump out at any time.

Nothing happened.

The city was deserted. In a way it looked as though everypony had just up and left. Carriages were still left parked alongside roads. Houses were open to show rooms with tables set and hats left on racks. Outside one carriage was a pile of luggage ready to be packed away. A cafe still had the front tables set with coffee mugs and a disgusting plate with... something on it that might once have been called a beignet.

Despite the horrid rotting mess on the plates I actually chose to stop at the cafe. I was hungry and I needed a rest. Besides the cafe looked dry inside and I was desperate to get out of the rain.

I wound my way past a few of the tables through the wide open front of the cafe. A long counter rested at the far end. An empty bottle of Sparkle-Cola sat on its side on the counter, forgotten and dusty. I spotted a big glass display case attached to the counter but whatever food was in there was either gone or long since rotted away. The smell was awful, like the kitchen back at the Carriage House Inn, and I quickly turned away from the display case. There was a fridge behind the register that happened to be a lot better than the display case. Nothing had rotted away into a disgusting blob of stink. It was nearly empty and hadn't been cleaned since the apocalypse but the bottle of Sparkle-Cola at the back and the water bottle next to it both seemed to be safe enough. I struggled to reach the back with my foreleg.

“Come on...” I mumbled. My foreleg brushed against a bit of mould. A shudder ran through my body at that. Disgusting. I eventually got the two bottles to roll out. The water was a bit dirty but a quick test sip found it drinkable. The Sparkle-Cola was, well, Sparkle-Cola. There was pretty much nothing natural about it so it never spoiled. It went straight into my saddlebags.

Before diving into the kitchen I picked a towel off a rack behind the counter. It wasn't nearly big enough to dry my whole coat off but I did get my forelegs cleaned. I mostly wanted to get rid of the mould that had clung there. No matter how much I complained in the past about cleaning at Wise Apple plantation, I never would complain again after seeing that mould. Next I dried off my mane. In hindsight I was probably just making myself dirtier using the towel but I didn't much care. I took another sip of water, transferred what was left to my canteen, and tossed the plastic bottle aside. Next stop: the kitchen.

It was definitely better than the one at the Carriage House. No rotting food. It must have been raided fairly early on. It was also nearly empty which didn't bode all that well. This trip had to be worth something.

I checked every inch of the kitchen. Most of the cupboards were empty or had inedible “food” left over. The fridges were write-offs too. All that was left were two boxes of (New Zap Apple Flavoured!) preserved apples. Out of sheer curiosity I checked the nutritional information on one of them.

“Well, dere's go mah figure.” At least it would keep me going for a little while. I tossed a box into my saddlebags and opened the other one. Slices of apple, preserved and candied with who knows how many chemicals. Barely considered food but I was too hungry to care. I popped a piece into my mouth. I had no clue what a zap apple was but unless the damn things were made of sugar they sure as shit didn't taste like this.

The kitchen had not much else of use. Whoever had been through here before me had cleared it out. I still looked around, desperate for something to pop up as a useful item. Nothing did for the longest time until my eyes found a knife on a cutting board. The blade looked a bit rusted and the handle was chipped but on close examination it seemed sharp enough. I picked it up between my teeth to test it on the box of preserved apples. It cut cardboard rather easily enough.

After a moment I just set the knife back down on the kitchen counter. What was I going to do with it? I wasn't a fighter. If I got into a close-in fight, even with a knife, I was probably going to lose. I could play-fight and wrestle well enough but I'd never learned real hoof-to-hoof fighting. If my opponent had a melee weapon of his own I'd be screwed. And if they had a gun then what was the point of the knife?

And yet between pieces of preserved apples I kept turning back to the knife. I had a pistol with me but no ammunition. A weapon would be a useful thing. Even if I didn't encounter any more raiders there were always feral ghouls and mutants.

“Grah. Fine.” I grunted and grabbed the knife. A plastic sharpening sheath sat nearby. The knife slid home with a satisfying click and the whole affair went into my saddlebags. There. A weapon. Not a very effective one to be sure but a weapon nonetheless. If push came to shove, if I had to fight a mutant or another equine, I'd at least have it. I wished I would never have to use it though.

I had eaten, I had found water, I had found a weapon, and I knew (vaguely) what direction I was going in. Despite the rain things were starting to look up.

~~

I needed a map. The city of Neigh Orleans was a maze. Without a map or any knowledge of it I felt like I was walking in circles even if I knew the direction I needed to be going. It didn't help that most of the buildings looked the same or were unadorned houses. I didn't have many shops to use as reference points and most of the street signs meant nothing to me. What was the point of knowing that I was on Dauphin Street if I had no idea where Dauphin Street was? It was infuriating. Mixed with the dull throbbing pain from my bruises, my soaking wet coat, and the claustrophobic conditions of the city, I felt like I was going crazy.

I had to be almost there. I could smell the salt water from the harbour a little clearer now. I was running out of room. The Temple had to be somewhere close by.

That's what I kept telling myself anyway. 'Almost there, Kas. Almost there, you'll make it. Almost.' Something, anything, to stave off the frustration of being lost. At least the memories from the Carriage House Inn were being held at bay by my mounting anger. I stopped a moment in the middle of the alleyway to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I had to calm myself down. Getting frustrated over being lost would just make it harder for me to think and find my way. 'Think, Kas, think...'

I opened my eyes again. Not much had changed. The alleyway was still covered in garbage from the two buildings. Rain was still pouring on my head. I was still lost. I shrugged and kept walking. At least I was getting to see the city. I had to admit it was beautiful, or at least had been, anyway. I still knew nothing about architecture and yet I could appreciate the buildings. Most had balconies and front gates made of wrought iron and decorated with patterns of fleur-de-lys, twisting vines, and diamonds. The buildings themselves each had character, with unique materials and colours and designs. Yet it was all missing something. That spark I'd wanted to see.

It was disappointing.

I looked to my right as I passed an opening in the alley wall. It led to a courtyard between buildings. The entrance had been barricaded though at some point the barricade had been torn down. I stepped closer to look inside the courtyard. It had been converted into a living space by a Wastelander. It was hard to tell, but there were subtle differences in the trash, if you knew where to look. A metal drum with scorch marks where trash had been burned. A radigator head mounted on a wall. Even the owner was still around, in a way.

He was strung up on the tree in the middle of the courtyard. He still wore a Wastelander's leather barding though it hung a little loose on his emaciated frame. I winced and turned away. I didn't want to think about who put him up there. Himself? Was life that brutal out here beyond the edges of the plantation that somepony, who seemed to have a nice safe spot, would just hang himself? Or was it somepony else, desperate for caps and supplies, desperate enough to take a life for it? I didn't even want to think about it.

I knew I'd never get an answer anyway.

I left the alleyway, the image burned into my head. I realized I had it fairly good back on the plantation. No matter how shitty I thought things were, nothing seemed shittier than life out in the Wasteland. I just hoped I could make it better in my own way. Find some way to help out. No matter what happened I didn't want to become like those bandits earlier or that hanging Wastelander.

Life just had to be better than that. I know we were living in a post-megaspell Wasteland but it had been nearly two hundred years since the bombs had fallen. Things had to finally be looking up.

I shook my head to try and clear it. I could think on that kind of stuff some other time. I had to get out of this rain and find the Temple before nightfall. I didn't want to get caught out in this unknown city in the dark, particularly with how maze-like everything was. If I could get lost during the day then night would be even worse.

I ran through a mental map I'd made. I'd been trying to remember every turn I'd taken to keep myself on track and if I had remembered it all right, all I had to do was take a right turn and follow the street a little ways. The Temple should be right there.

The street was just another tight, claustrophobic street, but with one small difference. It had been set up like a market. Instead of rusted out carriages there were vendor stalls strewn about the road. Some were ransacked, some destroyed, others still had survived the test of time. Curiosity led me to one of them. It was a cheesy little display of plastic masks and beads. “Authentic Mardi Gras Gear,” I read aloud. The masks were faded plastic decorated with beads and filigree that had been worn off by time and weather. Most had feathers that were missing thanks to windstorms. They actually looked somewhat horrifying, with their blank open-eyed stares and the faded paint that, on some masks, looked like tear trails down from the eyes. I picked one of the masks up and set it on my snout, chuckling a little before tossing it away. While there were no celebrations for the feast anymore, everypony from Martingale knew about Mardi Gras. A celebration that stretched back to the forming of Equestria, when King Bullion famously held a feast celebrating the unification of the three original pony tribes.

Plastic beads and cheap masks seemed an odd way to commemorate such an important event. With a shrug I kept moving.

This time I didn't have to go too far. The road ahead of me widened a little, with a huge gap between the buildings as wide as a block. On the left I could see a rusty old cast-iron fence, and the monolithic rear end of a huge off-white building.

My eyes were drawn up the building and I realized just how tall it was. Unlike most of the other buildings around, which felt tall, this one was tall. It towered over the other buildings even before you took into account the massive steepled roof. I wasn't paying attention as I trotted toward it and put a hoof on the fence. I felt a sharp prick on my hoof. After yelping in pain I noticed some vicious and rather new-looking razor wire was wound through the fence. I looked up at the building again. This was it. It had to be the Temple.

I needed a way in. Time to check the front out.

On either side of the Temple was a path between it and the adjacent buildings. I took the little alleyway and stepped out into an area so totally unlike the rest of Neigh Orleans that any of the dark, miserable feelings of claustrophobia and isolation were gone. The entire block and then some, from the Temple to the levee at the water's edge, was a huge open space. A once-beautiful garden with hoofpaths and a statue in the middle. Sure, it had lost all it's sheen, but it still had a beauty of its own, maybe because it was no longer a cramped cityscape. I might have also had a pair of rose-coloured glasses on, thanks to the general hopeful feeling I had about finally reaching my destination (and finally getting out of the drizzling rain!).

I trotted out around the building to get my first look at the front of the Temple. It looked great for its age – and at two hundred plus years old, that was saying something – as if somepony painstakingly restored every inch of it. The walls were clean, the windows were intact, and even the massive oak double-doors had survived the test of time. The only thing not restored was a huge clock above the doors reading 9:21, where it had been frozen for whoever knows how long. There was even a legible sign out front that confirmed my suspicions.

The Temple of the Celestial Sisters
Celestial Square, Neigh Orleans
Services at 11 AM, 3 PM, and 11 PM
All are welcome!

I continued on in front of it, looking up at the building the whole time. I must have looked like a complete idiot, standing around in the rain, gawking up at some building like I'd never seen anything like it in my life. I just couldn't help it though. I just felt... warm. Happy. Hopeful. Like the building itself radiated those feelings, drawing me closer and closer. I started moving toward the front doors. I just wanted to get inside, to figure out my next move, and to get dried off.

What I would do next would be something to figure out later. Funny thing about single-track plans like this is once they're done, you feel a little drained afterwards. I felt great knowing I was about to enter what I thought was a sanctuary but there was a nagging at the back of my mind as if my brain was reminding me that no, I had no plans, and that I probably should figure something out instead of wasting time sitting around.

Maybe somebody inside the Temple could help point me in the right direction. I was a few meters from the front stairs when I heard the muffled sound on the other side of the door. It looked like it might have been opening.

At the very moment it did start to open I caught a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision. I looked up at to my left just as the gunshot rang out.

A searing pain hit me in the jaw. I didn't have time to shout.

The world went dark.