Fallout Equestria: Mirrors

by Tyo

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Sad
Length: 19085

Rain tackles the Wasteland head on- albeit forcibly. Will he be taken by its vile cliutches too?

After nineteen years of a simple life in the wastes, probably the simplest, Rain is pushed to take all of the wasteland on after his dad for no apparent reason- to him anyway- says it's time to pack up and split up. He travels the wastes, meeting companions, learning, and most importantly, surviving... After a year, his life makes another change. The wasteland seemed to have finally taken him... Or did it?

[On hiatus until summer.]

Published 2012-04-12 09:14:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-08 20:53:34 UTC

Introduction

Link to Google Document

Introduction

“Rule number two-the Double Tap.”

So, that’s it then. I killed Crowbar.

I looked over at the empty bar seat next to me. I knew it had to be done. I thought I could trust him, but it turned out when it came to caps I can’t count on him to not shoot me in the back, theoretically or otherwise; and every job in these parts came to caps. But still… He was my drinking buddy. I downed another shot, word had gotten around that I blew him up. Didn’t seem anypony cared though... I gathered that everypony knew he was a cheat. Then I finally got something that should’ve been so damned obvious from the start.
Slavers were fucking assholes.

I just sat a while, listening to the particularly beautiful mare that was our voluntary entertainment. She’d apparently for whatever reason decided to help some of these dying assholes. After a while, I grew bored of the music. Not because it was bad; I’m sure anypony who liked this kind of music would love it. It just wasn’t my taste; in fact, I hadn’t come across music I liked yet.

I got up. It was just about my shift now. I got a pair of spiked hoof-claw things I never bothered to learn the proper name of from the armory after a short walk and started my patrol. It was uneventful for hours, until I heard the faintest noise of a hoof hitting the ground ever so softly. “Hey, who’s there?” I called out. It was the dead of night; I couldn’t see a thing. I walked toward the sound, finding the door to a shack nearby opened. I cautiously headed in. From there I heard sounds of tampering behind a door.

“There you are!” I yelled, banging the door open. A… very small unicorn mare awaited me behind it. I hesitated a moment, seeing the levitated revolver for only a split second.

Wait… Fuck. I was rewarded with two bullets. One to my face, the other to my chest. The world seemed to pause. Then it came to me. I got shot. TWICE! I collapsed... I couldn’t see... I just felt a warm, thick substance pool under me. I thought of the irony. I wondered if Crowbar felt like this when I paid him back for trying to fuck me over. Maybe it was faster, sense he exploded. Then, reality hit like a truck. A really, really big truck.

And I died.

*** * ***

One might wonder how I got so damn under. Lowest of the low, just some random slaver pony who got shot in the face. Amounting to absolutely nothing, it appeared. But before I prove that appearance wrong, you should know how I wound up in such a shitty position, and how I learned it was such a shitty position only after I... Yeah.

My early life in the wastes wasn’t much different from everypony else’s… except maybe slaves, slavers, raiders, Tenpony Tower folk, scavengers, townsponies… Okay, maybe it wasn’t so similar. I lived in a small hut with my pops. I hadn’t known his name till the day I left… Well, he lef- No, wait… We left? Okay, sidetracked here. Life wasn’t too hard compared to the lives of many other ponies. Raiders and bandits hardly struck. As far as I could tell it’s simply ‘cause pops was good enough to keep ‘em away. Slavers learned from the mistakes of the other ponies and simply ignored us. A little more so when pops taught me how to lay traps and shoot, but I was shit at both. The mutated animals around our piece of the waste were no manticores; hunting was easy. It was probably the simplest life one could dream of having out in the whole damn wasteland.

My dad was pretty awesome. He won’t rip you a new one for no good reason, and doesn’t get too mad at fuckups that aren’t life-threatening. Yeah, he had his own fixes; he drank and I’m pretty sure he was a mint-al addict. But he was still a good pony. I inherited his pitch-black coat. In the darkness, it’s almost impossible to see us. Well, at least that’s the case for me. My mane was colored with black and blue. Dad’s mane was so white I could swear it was luminescent… Maybe it was. I was never sure if it was always like that or if I looked like a carbon copy of him when he was a young stallion. His voice was as hard as steel. His cutie mark was a…. Light is the only word that describes it. Despite my age at the time, nineteen I think, I didn’t have one yet. In our simplistic life, I never got to doing something other than hunt, really. And I sucked at that.

Anyway, enough with introductions. Like I hinted at before, things changed the day me and my dad were separated. It wasn’t like we were held at gunpoint... It’s just... I’ll just give you the whole story. I awoke one morning... Nope. It was night. My vision was blurred as I began to adjust to the bright... Lantern. Being born into the wastes, I had never seen the sun yet. One hundred ninety-nine years after the world exploded, the clouds covered the sky twenty-four hours a day hardly ever letting up. It looked like it blanketed everything in all directions... Maybe it did. Even after it disappeared over the next decade I never knew for certain.

Dad sat at the little oval table holding the lantern, his face masked with thought. I rubbed my eyes, “Pops?” I groaned, stretching as I lifted my head up from my cot. He was silent. “Something wrong?” Still silent. Had I left the bonfire burning again? Were my traps insecure? No, he was in too serious a mood for those relatively usual fuckups. “Wha-” I began, but he cut my question off.

“We’re leaving tomorrow” He said, flatly.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Tomorrow, Rain. We’re out.”

My face didn’t know what expression to make, trying to choose from confusion, worry, scared, and shock. Unable to conjure the right face; rather, any face at all, I gave a blank stare.

“You’re not a foal anymore. It’s time for you to look out for yourself. If you stay here, you’ll eventually die. And I’m not talking eighty years from now. Another six months, tops.”
Blanky blank blank. I was sure I could win a blank stare competition with this one. He sighed, “Look, the wastes are a dangerous place. We’ve been ridiculously lucky all these years out here, but eventually things are gonna get nasty. You’ve got to learn how to survive,and you’ve got to do it without me” What...?
I hesitated “But...”
“You have a much bigger chance living out there than in here, believe me.”

Unsurprisingly to him, I couldn’t form words to save my life and my face was still as blank as my flank. However, his serious face melted off. He smiled and patted my head. “I’ll be damned if you think I mean I’m abandoning you. You just need to grow up is all... Come on.” He got up off the chair, heading to the door. The knob glowing white as he magically opened it. I got up as well. following him out. He led me to a shed I never knew about, but was surprisingly close by.

“I think it’s time I told you about your mother.” he said, opening the door to the shed. It took a moment for that to register. Eyes bulging, I could only think, “What the fuck is going on?”

*** * ***

Dad wisely gave me a moment to absorb the past thirty or so minutes before starting off with Mane.

“Well,” He began, “Sense you have her mane, it’s only appropriate that you take her Mane with you.” My confusion was all but expected. He grinned. A white glow coated his horn and the most well-kept box in the shed. Out came a weird almost gun-like object, lacking both a clip and an actual barrel; but the trigger of the weapon was noticeable. It was a sleek black with neon blue lights about it. My first guess: beam rifle. I never had actually seen one before but dad proved me right either way.

"This here is Mane. It used to be your average beam rifle till your mom got a hold of it. Normal ones are usually dull and their magic fuses-the lights-are red. She was a really smart mare. Turned the thing into something near twice as powerful while still using the same ammunition and keeping a very good rate of fire. I named it though. It's called Mane 'cause it was like her-" he paused, "Your mane." I stared at the sleek deadliness in pure wonder. Beam rifles were already powerful; dad said they can turn a pony into ashes, without any kind of modification. I then registered the more important part of what he said. Mom's mane was my own. I finally had something to draw a mental picture of her with. He continued, seemingly to mentally note my satisfaction. "You can repair and maintain it with regular beam rifle parts, keep that in mind. But let's not get ahead of ourselves; you can't repair worth shit yet. We're gonna use this shed to get a start on that. We'll get on that later though. Here's another thing of your mother's. It's called a Pipbuck." he floated what looked like a metal, bulky hoof-band with a screen from the box onto my hooves.

“What exactly is it?” I asked, brow rising.
“Just about the most useful band of metal you’ll find ever.”
I was skeptical, “This thing? What does it do?”
“Well, it can tell time... Keep track of your stuff, show vital signs, tell you where you are, tell you where you need to go, play music, store data, tell you if something wants to kill you... Hell, the thing can even shoot for you given time between uses!”
I blinked. “...D-damn.” I looked at it with new-found reverence.
“Hell yeah, damn. Only stable ponies have ‘em. Just so happens me and your mother are just those kind of ponies. Different stables though.”

Dad told me about stables a while back, and how most are pretty much wasteland horrors trapped in metal tombs and the rest are usually bombed and scavenged by Steel Rangers.
“What happened to yours?”
“Eh, somewhere in here I think. If I find it I’ll take it.”
“I meant your stable.”
“Oh...” He thought for a second, “I think most were slaughtered in a Steel Ranger raid. The survivors fled, but eventually came back after the rangers looted it and went raider. As far as I remember, they’re still there.” I raised a brow again.
“How in the hell did you get out of that?”

He paused, face getting tense. “Uh, well, I left the stable about a month before the Rangers showed...” My brow didn’t come down yet. He frowned, closing his eyes. He was hiding something and he could tell I knew it.
“I really don’t want to get into this, Rain.”
I hesitated before conceding, “Okay, forget I asked.” I just didn’t want to leave on a bad note like that. Maybe I’d figure it out someday.

“One last question.” He looked at me, waiting, likely hoping it hadn’t anything to do with his past. “What’s... Uh, what’s your... name?” I asked, awkwardly
“Oh, that’s it?” He sighed in relief, “I never told you?”
I just stared anticipatingly.
“Heh, my name is.... Nightlight.”
I cocked my head, “...Nightlight...?”
Three seconds later... I blurted out laughing.
He gave a small smile, “Yeah, anyway... We’re not done yet.”

He floated out clothes, a pistol, and a saddle pack.
“...Clothes?”
“It’s called barding,” he narrowed his eyes, “It’ll protect you from dying too fast. Just don’t get shot too much and you’ll learn it has a purpose. And it doesn’t protect from blunt force. At least not decently.”
“And what about the pistol? I have Mane, right?”
“That thing could break, or you could run out of bullets. Not everypony packs energy weapons. Most will carry around a working 10 millimeter pistol, though.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Do I have to explain the bag too, oh brilliant one?” He nickered.
“Oh shut up,” I said, waving a hoof.
“Alright, here. Last thing. You’ve been kept away from her for too long.” He levitated a small square paper. He looked at it himself for a moment before it floated onto the base of my hoof. Resting there was a picture of a white-as-light mare. She had a cutie mark made of boxes with numbers and letters and each and a... Black and blue mane. Her eyes were just as blue as my own.
“Thanks, dad...”
“Don’t you ever lose it.”
“Promise I won’t.”
“Alright, easy part’s done. Now let’s teach a knuckleheaded blank how to repair worth a shit or two.”
“Wait... what’s that?” I pointed at her cutie mark.
“That... That’s called the Periodic Table or something. See, your mother was more than a smart pony. She was a genius with a cutie mark to prove it.”
He levitated Mane onto the top of a workbench in the corner. “Watch carefully. Look through this book, too.” He lifted out both a book and a underappreciated beam rifle from another box and began maintenance on Mane. I watched. That was probably the most I’ve ever paid attention to Pops whilst he was teaching me how to do something...

*** * ***

It so happens I wasn't half had at repairing. In fact, I'd say I was more than decent. I didn't break anything, and pops only had to help twice. By day's end I was more or less on par with dad. With nothing left to do, I joined dad by the fire that's made every night. He had dinner ready. Bloatfly kabob today. Yeah, ponies are supposed to eat plants, but that's hardly an option in our situation. Whatever grows is irradiated to the point where it’s healthier not to eat and we don't go out to town too much; last we visited was three years ago. Besides, meat isn't that bad. Dad says some ponies are really good at cooking and can make the stuff taste great.

Pops and I sat at the fire that’s made every night. The kabobs sizzled over the flame. It was mostly quiet; all that needed to be spoken about was spoken about. Until, awkwardly, dad’s eyes were locked on me.
“...What?” I asked, raising a brow.

Still staring.

I narrowed my eyes, “This is getting weird, pops.”
“Your... Your flank...”
“What about it? It’s been blank for years, so wh-” I cut myself off as I looked down at what was supposed to be a bare side to find that... It’s not bare!

“What the- I have- When did that-I DON’T EVEN-” I fumbled a bit. After catching my cool, I thoroughly examined it. Dad did as well.
“It’s... a mirror.”
“Huh? It looks like a big box to-” Then I noticed that the box wasn’t just a box.... It reflected my dad’s face perfectly.
“What kind of cutie mark is this?! They’re not supposed to... do that!” I yelled, “What’s a mirror even supposed to mean?”
Dad seemed just as stumped on that matter as me. He sat on a dead stump and thought. After a moment, he seemed to have come up with something. “Well... Mirrors reflect... Copy, you could say.”

I remembered what I had been doing all day. Copying dad’s technique... perfectly. I thought my pride about the matter was pride in getting something done. Now that I think about it, I think I simply... Liked learning about something.
“But I was taught how to hunt and trap and I didn’t get it this thing, nor half of the feeling of accomplishment.”
“Oh come on, Rain. You didn’t even try to learn. Your hunting and trapping arrived at sheer luck and we just rolled with it.”
I nickered, “I’ll grant you that. I guess you’re right.”
He paused, “Well, I have to say, that made me a lot happier.”
“Huh?”
“Well for one, my son’s not gonna be a total fuckup. For two, I got to see something I didn’t think I would.” He trotted over, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “If I die before we meet again, I’ll die a happy buck.

And with that, the day closed. We ate our bloatfly kabobs and did the only thing we could do at this point. Sleep.

*** * ***

The next morning... Nope, still night. On the table was again, dad’s lantern. I slouched up, stretching. “This early?” I moaned.
“Yup.”

I slipped into my ‘barding’ as dad called it. It was weird... wearing something. I figured I’d get over it. After actually being in it, I noticed it was very wastelander-like, and it generally wasn’t uncomfortable despite the awkwardness of wearing it in the first place. It had holsters for both the 10mm pistol and Mane. Had pops actually made this? I nickered at the thought of my dad being a deadly shot, fierce hunter, decent repair pony, and grade A seamster. We split all our supplies- food, water, caps, healing potions, the works- equally. All was ready. We headed out our shack for the final time.

“Alright, son. This is bye for now.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
Silence for a few long seconds. Then, he hugged me.
“Let’s try to see eachother again, all in one piece if that’s not asking too much.” He rasped.
I paused, then hugged him back smiling. “Yeah, sure pops.”
We broke off. We both turned around facing opposite directions. I glanced back for the slightest second after a moment of walking. Only the shack was visible now.

“Bye...”

__________________________

Notes:
Quest added- The Wastelander, Part One
Traits:
Mirror, Mirror

Effect: a) You gain more bonus skill points by reading books and you gain 20% more EXP when EXP is earned.

b) ???
S-5
P-4
E-4
C-4
I-10
A-5
L-3

Chapter Two: The Waselander, Part Two

Link To Google Document

Chapter Two: The Wastelander, Part Two

“Who needs a map?”

The rest of the trip was mostly uneventful. No more exploding crazy cannibal slaver ponies of malice and hate had come by for the rest of it, anyway. We’d made it by noon.

And I must say, when I saw Baltimare... I was awestruck. This wasn’t a run-of-the-mill settlement like the particularly close town near the shack, this place had once been a city! Buildings nearly pierced the cloud curtain, and there were so many! It was a fucking jungle made of bricks and concrete! My eyes widened and mouth hung agape at the sight. What did ponies even need these huge structures for before everything exploded? What could they possibly be useful for? And why so many? And why were ponies living here today? I’m sure there’s something called too much space... According to Lander, only a few hundred ponies lived here, it wasn’t special in that regard... But why here?

Lander gave me a disgusted look that said, “t’ain’t that special.” With weird accent and all. I ignored it though. I don’t care what he had to say, this place was absolutely huge. Only after a little more walking, we reached the main gate. This thing was made of junk... it was so... Unimpressive, compared to the city the ponies two centuries ago built. Yeah, this is the wasteland and people don’t have as many resources, but then why build such a sorry excuse for... Lander was giving me that look again...

We passed the main gate without any fuss. I decided to wander the town while Lander escorted the pair of ponies we saved to wherever the job said to go. Spotting a local bar, I headed in... The Mix, it was called. It was a smaller building, only two stories. It was right on the corner of the street. The sound of music came from it. Soon enough, I headed in.

Behind the bartender unicorn mare with a velvet coat and mane were regular alcoholic drinks and unidentifiable multi-colored liquids. She mixed different kinds with whiskey and beers and handed them out to ordering ponies. She was a real natural when it came to mixing it seemed. The music was... Eh. I didn’t like it. I dunno why, it just wasn’t my taste. Everypony else seemed to like it, or at least were just fine listening to it. I trotted my way to a stool in front of the bar, and immediately a weird purple beverage was placed in front of me.

“I never seen you here before, so first drink’s on the house,” she said, looking at me for a second and smiling before getting back to her work.

“Thanks?” I said, but it didn’t appear she noticed. Lots of ponies around, it was a busy day. no time for chit-chat, I supposed. I looked into the glass curiously... Dad never gave me alcohol, granted I never asked for any. Picked it up with my hooves and drank it slowly...

You know, this wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was pretty damn good! I finished the glass and set it back on the table, and it was immediately picked up and wiped with a cloth. I didn’t understand that... Weren’t germs the least of a pony’s problems these days? I don’t even think the cloth would hel—

I realized how awkward I was being when I noticed she was looking at me intently. All ponies had a glass or bottle in their hooves already... Damn this mare was fast...

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I was—”
“It’s fine, sweetie. I’m the one being rude here. The name’s Mixie. Well, that’s my name now anyways.” she said, more politely one would expect to come from a pony in the wastes. But then, she also just gave me a free delicious drink, so I decided she was simply a nice pony.
“Rain,” I said as we hoof-shook.
“If you don’t mind my askin’, what brings you to Baltimare?” she asked, still keeping the friendly tone.
“I came here with... a frie-... Business partner? I’m not sure how I’d say our relationship goes really. We’ve only just met and he only said we’re together till we reach here, so I dunno. I didn’t really come here for any definite reason.”
“Is that so? Your companion wouldn’t be that Lander fellow, would it?” she asked in a low yet weirdly sweet voice.
Huh? “How’d you know?”
“He’s found quite a few companions over the years...” her mood got a little more serious, “Let me just give you a word of advice... That pony’s had dozens of companions over the years, who have mostly vanished... The only pony I know who he traveled with and didn’t just disappear is some crazy fellow who lives in a shack in town... He don’t talk to nopony though. I’m just warnin’ you, don’t stay with that pony for long...”
“Huh...” that gave me something to think about.
“Well anyway, do you want anything else?” she asked politely, all seriousness vanishing.
“Nah, I’m fine for now. Thanks for the drink again. See you later, Mixie.” I said, trying to hold back any grimness... And other stuff. Man, did I feel awkward. I had a crush. In this hellhole of a world we call the wasteland, I had a crush. I was honestly relieved that I was able to speak to her at all... I wasn’t good with words when it came to ponies I just meet... Anyways...

I trotted out and looked around warily. The whole Lander ordeal aside, something felt wrong. One more step... BANG! BANG BANG BANG! The sound of gunshots coming from my right rung in my ears for a moment as I got to the nearest piece of cover... A bench. How lucky. I had to use a bench for cover. I picked my 10 mm from its sheath and peeked out, immediately entering SATS. Three ponies. All unicorns. They were all packing fucking assault rifles. I closed the interface and just sat behind my cover. Suppressive fire kept me there. Where was the fucking security? What the hell do I do now? Even peeking out is more than likely suicide. Doing anything is more than likely suicide...

But doing nothing is too, isn’t it?

I pulled out Mane. This called for something stronger than a pistol. Glancing to my right I spied an empty, rusted barrel. This required luck and so far luck didn’t seem to like me, but I tried anyway. I dashed as quickly and lowly as possible behind the barrel and bucked as hard as I could. My effort was rewarded with a resounding PONG as it hit a mare in the head. Well, I was also rewarded with a few bullets to my chest but... nothing penetrated. Huh. These clothes —Er, barding— was useful after all. The bullets stopped for four seconds long enough to slip into SATS, Mane in mouth, and queue and fire four shots. One in the chest to the closest, another to the dazed pony next to her, and two at the unicorn buck furthest away.

ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! The weapon let out, more musical to my ears than the undesirable music everypony loved. The first glanced off the unicorn mare’s side, however, it completely scorched the barding and flesh beneath. She howled in pain as her dazed comrade was hit in the chest dead center, emphasis on dead. The laser bolt left her chest only as charred remains. The third shot missed. The fourth shot turned the buck into ash.

And just like that the gunfight was over. I trotted over to the survivor trying to limp away, but eventually her legs gave in and she dropped. I didn’t think it was that serious a wound, but then I never had my flesh burned with a super-intense laser. I finally reached her, making sure Mane was ready at a moment’s notice. She simply store at me with brown eyes and peach face, dirtied by dust and tears. What the fuck was she doing shooting at me? She looked my age! I asked her as much.

“It... It’s just a job...” she said, slowly, “It was supposed to be easy... They even gave us equipment and big bro was always a good shot anyways.... and it’s just one young buck who shouldn’t even know how to shoot... This wasn’t supposed to happen...”
“You know, there are other ways to make a living. This... didn’t have to happen.”
“We were desperate...!” she paused, “That doesn’t matter... Big bro and big sis are both dead and I’m probably dead too... I don’t have anypony anymore anyway... In fact... Please...?” she said, closing her eyes and laying her head down on the dirt.
I was agape. What... What the fuck, wasteland? Seriously? You’re gonna make me choose this? Damn it all to hell...

But just then, I heard Lander’s voice behind me, “What the fuck?”
I turned around, only a little shocked... Okay, I nearly pissed my pants. “Oh, Lander... I’m in a little predicament here...”
“I’ll say. What happened here?”
“Well...”
“We tried to kill him and got killed back. Now please let him finish the job.” she sounded.... determined? What the fuck...?
“Wait, so three ponies armed with...” he checked to make sure, “Assault rifles attacked ya and ya got them without a scratch...? What the hay...? Whatever, we’ll discuss that later... But what’re ya gonna do now?”
“I don’t suppose you can choose for me on this one?” I said with a hint of begging.
“Nope.”
“Dammit... What’s the decent thing to do?”
“They were all I had... Just please... I’m sorry...”
Lander shrugged.
Fuck the wasteland. Fuck her. Fuck dad. Fuck me. Fuck everything. This is ridiculous...

I grabbed Mane in my mouth... Never before had a handle ever tasted so... Sour. I pointed at her. I closed my eyes... And fired. There was no scream. Just another zap, along with the sound of incineration... And that was it.

Fuck.

Footnote: Karma Lost
*** * ***

Despite my feelings on the matter right beforehand, I saw no reason why not to loot my assassins. Whoever wanted to kill me for whatever the reason sure wanted to kill me badly. I’m no weapons inspector but this stuff looked Grade A. There were even a few explosives! I packed everything up when I came across another note. It simply said, “Kill him, take his bags to the magical science facility. You’ll be paid once the packages are secure.” It had a crystal-type shard drawn onto it, too... an emblem, perhaps. Well, if there were an investigation on who wanted me dead it’d be the quickest one ever. These guys want these energy weapons really badly...

Well, I’d have time to think on that later. For now, I’m surrounded by a half dozen guard ponies all wearing battle saddles mounted with an assortment of guns that came out of nowhere. Lander sat calmly beside me... I was a bit nervous... Okay, I was incredibly close to pissing myself. Eventually, a particularly large mare wearing shades walked up to me personally. She had a fucking minigun on her battle saddle.

“Are you gonna tell me why there are two piles of pony ashes and a body on my street? Nopony else seems to know.”
Oh, fuck... “Uhh, well... they shot at me and I... Well... Shot back? Yeah...” I’m dead.
She raised a brow, “So they shot at you, and you somehow outgunned them without so much a scratch?”
“Well the bullets didn’t penetrate, but...”
“Witnesses say you capped the last one while she was on the ground,”
Fuck me. “She literally asked me to!”
“Look, unless there’s a slip of paper that somehow explains this in the matter of seconds, I see no reason why I shouldn’t turn you into paste.”
I was 120% certain she wasn’t lying either. Lander sat there like a statue.
“And you, what are you doing back here?” she said, starting to face him.
“I ‘ave to work sometimes, y’know. Ya never banned me.”
“I said I didn’t want to see you in my city again,” she said with a glare that could possibly kill if weaponized.
“Ya never banned me,” he repeated, bluntly. That ticked her off quite a bit. “Also, there just so happens t’ be a paper that ‘splains this in the matter o’ seconds.” he then looked at me.
Oh, right. That paper I had would surely prove to be good evidence, wouldn’t it? “Oh yeah, there’s this...”, I held out the paper signed with the crystal.
She slapped it out of my hoof, looking at it herself. “Wait... That’s the emblem of the Scarlet Rangers.”
“Huh?”, Scarlet Rangers?
“Well that does actually explain it with that piece you have there... You’re excused for now. Just don’t let these fights happen too often.”
“As if I have a choi... Nevermind, who are these guys? Scarlet Rangers? Sounds like a cheap knock off of Steel Rangers.”
“That’s ‘cause they are a cheap knockoff o’ the Steel Rangers,” Lander inquired, quite bluntly.
“Seriously?” The Steel Rangers have admirers?
“Eyup. They more or less do the same thing on a smaller scale.. They’re almost exclusive to out here, up north-east. And they have not a clue how to raid stables. But anything that looks remotely advanced, they want. They’re made up of almost entirely failed Steel Ranger recruits.”
“That explains things... But nopony has shut them down yet?”
“Nope. Nopony knows where their base is.” the large mare answered.
“So... Nopony ever got ahold of a not like this?” I asked dumbfoundedly. I had two already and I wasn’t even trying to look!
“No, can’t say so. But they don’t bother Baltimare, so we have no reason to go after them. If you wanna clear the lot out, that’ll be your job and yours alone. Now if you’re done here, I suggest getting off my street. I got a town to defend.” she then trotted off towards the heart of the town. Must’ve been the sheriff or mayor or something...

“Kid, ya beat three unicorns literally armed to the horn unscathed and do it so quick only three ponies actually saw the fight, but when y’all’re simply talked to aggressively y’all’re scared shitless. What. The. Hell.” Lander said after everypony left.
“I... I’m just no good with words. I haven’t seen a pony before you besides my dad in over a decade! I just can’t... Talk.” I said, defensively.
He facehoofed. “Y’all’re quite the character, boy.”
Then I remembered something important. “Hey, uh, Lander... How many ponies have you traveled with along the years?”
He raised a brow, “A lot...”
“Uh... How many are still alive?”, I asked, awkwardly.
“... Too few...”, he paused, “Well ya did come to the town I most often go for resupply and the like... Ya were bound to learn sooner or later. Traveling with me is a gamble with death, kid.”
Well this was a lot easier than I expected it to be. “Well knowing that, why’d you let me come with you?”
“Well, I figured ya’d have a better chance coming with me if you wanna live. But after that, and now that we’re in a nice settlement... I think now is the time we should split it. Speaking of splitting, here’s yer part from the job.” he held out a pouch of caps in his hoof.
“Well, what if I like having a friend around sometimes?” I said, taking it and dropping it in my saddlebag.
He didn’t answer immediately, “Look, havin’ me as yer bud isn’t worth dyin’ over.”
“I have a bunch of ponies after my head anyway, I don’t see how going with you decreases my chances too much.” Plus, so far he’s my favorite pony in the wastes.
“Goddess damn ya, y’all’re persistent.” he sighed, “Truth is, I ‘ave a good deal of ponies after me too. Can we split now?”
“Nope. Why do you have ponies after you?”
“Y’all aren’t leavin’ no matter what I say, are ya?”
I shook my head no.
“Fuckin’... I don’t wanna get ‘nother sensible pony killed! Why don’t ya get it?” he was getting pretty frustrated.
I could see where he was coming from... “But...”
“Ya better not follow me. Serious.” and with that he trotted off.

I wasn’t taking no for an answer, though. I was certain we weren’t friends yet, we barely knew each other after all. But I don’t need lots of friends to tell he needed one... Fuck, I needed one. If he meant what he said, he won’t let me die from some stupid decision I made either. Stupid decision, here I come! To the science facility!

Footnote: Sidequest added- Drowning Scarlet
*** * ***

It wasn’t too hard to find. Asking Mixie and other random ponies around town, I found the location easily enough. My Pipbuck helped too... It had markers for where the likely locations were based on what ponies told me. Soon enough, I was standing right in front of it. There was a shady pony dressed head to hoof in black. Black fedora, black trench coat, black pants... This pony even had sunglasses and shoes! My EFS showed there were more than this pony nearby, though. Two others were hidden. Likely in case a pony would try something.

Here’s to trying something!

The pony in black began to talk, but as it-the gender wasn't very distinguishable, all things considered-opened its mouth, I started talking first.

“So, this is the Scarlet Rangers’ place?”
“I’m not paid for small talk. Do you have the weapons or not?”
“So they told the grunts what I looked like but not anypony at the front gate? Weird.”
“W-What? Who are you?”

By ‘who’ I had Mane out at the ready. By ‘are’ I began aiming; I didn’t need SATS for this distance. By ‘you’, I had shot three times. The poor bastard in black disintegrated into the blue goop I knew too well at this point. The two ponies behind their hiding spots jumped out, and were immediately met by a wild spray of beams from me. I imagined I didn’t hit or at least didn’t hit and do more than trivial damage. They hadn’t screamed in pain yet.

The three of us jumped behind the nearest cover. They had a nice dumpster to hide behind. I had... a telephone booth. Not much better than the bench I had before. Luck was never on my side. The two ponies were just as armored as those three I had just fought hours before. Just as well-armed too. And I didn’t have a barrel to buck at them. So I did the only thing I could do. Blindfire until something happened.

And happen something did. I found too much pleasure than I should have in a blood-curdling scream. I peeked out, seeing that one of them had one of their forehoovess burned off. I jumped from my cover to the surprise of the able-bodied unicorn mare guard. Injured enemy or not, jumping from cover is never entirely expected. Her unexpectedness awarded her with two bolts of super-hot blue lasers to the face, which subsequently melted the front of her head... Thus caving her face in. That’s... very gruesome... What was it with ponies and dying horribly around me?

Despite the horrid sight, I decided to stay true to the resolve I made about a day before. I won’t let this get to me... I was sure worse things can and do happen out here. The injured unicorn buck sat there whimpering, burying his face with his not-detached hoof. Apparently, I didn’t just shoot this guy’s forehoof off. A beam also took off this poor soul’s horn. I thought for a second... Any reason why I should leave survivors? I thought back to... I didn’t even know her name... I don’t suppose this case was much different. Every pony in this base will shoot to kill without second thoughts. He wouldn’t give me a second chance, either. Even if I hadn’t attacked and he was sent to kill me, he’d have done it. If I was in his position, willing to give up my energy weapons, I’d doubted if he’d show me mercy...

Eh, nope... No reason in sight.

Zap!

Footnote: Karma Lost
*** * ***

This was more or less going as planned. I killed little to none. Now I was pinned down in the middle of their base!... Inside a desk in the middle of a room I boarded myself up in. Well, it was a better position than luck previously gave me. I had tuned into my Pipbuck’s radio by now... A broadcast coming in from Baltimare’s extremely limited broadcast tower told of my recent exploit.

Hello, fillies and gentlecolts! This is Cave Rat broadcasting live from the Baltimare’s very own Cave Broadcast Station! And do I have a story for Y’ALL! So, there’s this kid, new meat to the wastes. Pitch black coat. Maybe y’all’ve seen him before? He’s the buck who was in that three on one fight hours ago, ‘round noon. So this kid is apparently packing serious tech as his weapons, and your friendly neighborhood Scarlets want them! So when they sent a few ponies after his head, he got so pissed he discovered their base that has eluded dozens of ponies, marched there, and has laid it under a one-man siege! My sources say he’s already breached the walls of their fortifications and is holed up somewhere inside! So, why am I tellin’ y'all ‘bout this? Because it’s about time somepony kicked the Scarlets in the nuts! You adventurers at Mixie’s place say you ain’t ‘fraid of nothin? I’d like to see any of y’all take on an entire order of failed Steel Rangers! Sure they failed, but the Rangers don’t consider just anypony! If y’all got real balls, go over to the old magical science place and help the poor kid! If not, well I s’pose ya’ll can say y’all ain’t ‘fraid anypony under the age of 18 or so is ‘fraid of. That can work too, if ya’ll don’t mind being laughing stalks of the wastes, not accepted in the lowliest of groups. Anyways, if y’all are listenin’ to this, good luck kid. Now, here’s some musi-

While I appreciated Cave Rat’s moral support and admired his guts, he did just call out any self-respecting wastelander. After all, I found his, and frankly everypony else’s taste in music dreadful. I mean, seriously. I just don’t see the taste. There’s either no excitement or the intrumen- Wait, that’s a lot of shooting. But it’s not coming into the room.... there’s a fight going on outside.

I lifted my head from under the desk, went to the door, and cracked it open for a peak or listen.
“Forget the little ass in the lab room, there’s at least a dozen of that fuck-head Cave Rat’s lackies out there!” an emerald pony said from the top of the same set of stairs I retreated from mere moments before.

Nopony complained or protested the order. They all packed up and went to what I was sure looked like the front lines of a war. My thoughts on the matter? Loot ALL the supplies! I looked around the room I holed myself in first. Despite hiding in here, I never got the chance to look around. Apparently, the emerald-green pony was right. This was a lab of sorts. The walls were lined with different kinds of pictures of advanced rifles, like Mane... So the note was completely true. The place was for constructing the magical energy weapons I’ve come to know and adore.

I looked through many papers lying around on desks... These were pretty organized. The Scarlet Rangers were probably studying these things themselves. I skimmed through them, and took those that looked like they’d be helpful. Then I found something really really cool. Beam Splitter installation and uninstallation instructions! I put that in a safe corner of my saddle bag. The rest of the room wasn’t too enlightening, so I began expanding my looting zone. Nothing really notable, though. They took most of the useful stuff with them. But I did find a saddle-looking thing... But it had two holster-looking things at each side and a mouth grip. A conveniently-placed label had it named as a ‘battle saddle Mk II’. Huh. I wonder how this would work... I got it on my back, removing my bags for a moment. It seemed I had it on the right way when my Pipbuck started interacting with it. A small wire attached itself somehow to the saddle... Okay, I wasn’t told it would do that. A... video or something appeared on the screen of a cartoon soldier buck saluting. After a moment, some audio recording played.

Alright soldier, it’s time to go wipe some stripes! Before you do, you must be wondering what this new saddle does in comparison to the primitive old saddle of last month. I’m here to tell you! The Battle Saddle Mark II is magically improved to interact more fluently with the famed Stable-Tec Pipbuck. This unit is equipped with not only standard weapon handles; but can hold saddlebags, compartments for healing potions and chems for easy access, and more! Now that you know the basics, you don’t even have to look through the tutorial, especially if you used the old, primitive saddle model. Anyway, you have zebras to kill, so this program won’t keep you a second longer! For Goddess and Country!

Patriotism was weird. Whatever. I soon enough installed my bags onto the saddle’s additional bag spaces, plus installed Mane on a handle. The saddle looked easy enough to use... bite down on the handle it placed in front of your mouth to shoot. Added bonus, I no longer needed to blabber random noises when trying to speak while armed.

Well, now I was stumped. Lander hadn’t come yet and likely won’t be making it this far with the battle going on outside. Wait... Why would they leave me completely unchecked? After investigation of the stairs, the only way in or out of this room I might add, I noticed why they didn’t need to guard me. They mined it till there was nowhere to possibly step without being inches away from one of the explosives. “Oh, fuck,” I groaned. “Nothing’s ever easy...”

Wait, idea. I looked around for things to throw. To my supreme and undying disappointment, there was nothing heavier than papers, and frankly, they could be very important papers too. I sat there, thinking... All I had on me were essentials... I wasn’t gonna throw good food and water... I gave all my guns sans the 10mm pistol out to those slaves, and sold the rest before coming here... Dammit... Wait. The plasma pistol. That could work. I only had what was in the crystal pack inside it for ammo anyways. Well, that could be worth something, so I popped it out before I threw it.

Did I mention I wasn’t a very good aim when it came to throwing? The gun hit the corner of a stair, bounced up, and tumbled over the side onto, wasteland damn me, a very tall, very inconveniently placed locker of sorts. I bucked it once or twice, but the thing didn’t even tip over a little bit. “Fuck. Me.” I rasped frustratingly. Then I realized how stupid I was being. So. Very. Stupid.

I took aim and fired a 10mm bullet right into a mine. With a series of explosions, the stairs were utterly ruined. I smiled in success. The blast had incidentally blown back the plasma pistol off the locker and into the wall, shattering it into pieces. Well, that was a waste of perfectly good and awesome technology. Maybe Steel Rangers had a point in hoarding away technology from fuck-ups like me. I banished the thought as I climbed up the destroyed concrete stairs, if you could call them that. It was more like a hill of gravel... It was traversable either way.

I reached the top to discover a Scarlet decided to check up on what he probably thought was splattered remains of yours truly. For his concerns, I bestowed unto him three bolts of hot blue lasers. The blasts weren’t as gruesome as before. Not to say the three blasts to his chest didn’t seem to melt his ribcage. I stepped over him. I was no in a hall with to ways. One way sounded of guns, lasers, and explosions, the other was filled with yelling as a familiar voice of a certain green earth pony barked orders.

I know where I’m going! I snuck as stealthily as possible to the loud pony. I eventually arrived at a workshop-type room. It was rather big. Not in height, but rather in expanse. It was as if the pre-war ponies wanted an assembly-line of artisan-crafted weapons. Which was probably the case. The booming voice came from the center. There were at least a half dozen in the room with him despite the size and the amount he was yelling. For now, I retreated back, flank first, from my door. Engaging ponies with little cover had worked thus far, but I’d rather not make it a habit. Then, I nearly pissed my pants again in the past 24 hours as my rump touched something directly behind me. I turned slowly to see what was likely my doom, but instead saw something infinity times more both better and unexpected.

“Lander?” I somehow managed a whisper despite my shock.
“You. Fuckin’. Idjit.” he replied, flatly, “Somepony tell me why, oh why, am I thinkin’ I somehow played into yer hoof?”
“‘Cause you did, bud.” I said evenly.
“Damn you, Rain...”
“I’m happy to see you too.”
“Okay, let’s get out’a here and then I c’n figure out how to kill ya best.”
“I doubt you’ll be doing that. Plus, we’re not done here yet.”
“The fuck?”
I motioned to the door, “I’m pretty sure that fucker is the one who wants me dead. So, why not erase one of my problems now?”
He groaned, rolling his eyes. After a pause, he said, “I’m really gonna do this, huh?”
“Eyup.” I replied, mockingly.
“This pony...”

While I was unsure if I should charge balls out by myself, I was completely confident in charging in with the Pony who more or less takes out slaver encampments by himself. We charged in, guns and high-tech lasers blazing. Well, this was easy. Three had gone down already, their bodies coming in either gruesomely bullet-riddled or hot gooey and blue flavors!... I have a fucked sense of humor, huh? The other four flipped workbenches over to use as shields. I was glad that the emerald bastard wasn’t among the fallen, I wanted to see this guy face-to-face.

My thoughts were then muted by a bong. My head rang like a bell, and not those small chimes. I’m talking a bell the size of three ponies. I sank to the floor, the frying pan that hit the floor with me told me the answer to my question of “What the fuck just happened?”; I was hit in the head with an aerial frying pan was what happened! Couldn’t you just shoot me? This headache was unbearable... I could hardly think straight. But somehow, I got to my hooves despite the painful throbbing. I saw the three unimportant ponies behind their cover, but where was Mr. Green? I then noticed a door I hadn’t even known was there across the room, wide open. It seemed to lead into a backdoor entrance- or exit. Didn’t really matter.

“Going... ow.. going after him...!” I said, slowly but surely.
“Rain, he’s probably—”
“Going after him,” I said more determinately, dropping my saddle. “Keep an eye on this.”

With that, I galloped off after the green fucker.

*** * ***

This guy was pretty fast. I was able to tail him though. Sad that I didn’t at least bring the pistol, but it appeared he had dropped all his stuff too. The chase lasted quite a while, but I was catching up. The buck was probably older than he looked; his tired gasps and pants told a lot about his fatigue... Although, I was getting winded myself. I inched closer and closer, despite his feeble attempts to slow me down with different kinds of classic tricks dad would always tell me about. Bucking a barrel in the way, spilling toxic waste, throwing random shit... But this pony wasn’t losing me.

When I thought I was close enough to tackle him successfully, I did. We rolled for I dunno how many feet before we came to a stop... Conveniently, I wound up on top of him, and his head was dangerously deep in a murky puddle. My Pipbuck confirmed it was irradiated with its soft ticking and clicking.

“Got you now, bastard.” I said, not hiding my triumph.
“You fuck-” down he went!... But wait, I didn’t chase him to kill him... immediately, at least. “FUCKER!” He coughed as he came back up.
“You’re the fucker here. Scarecrow, was it?”
“You know... Wait, Zig-Zag...”
“Blew up a while ago, yep. Now, the Scarlet Rangers are screwed. Got anything you wanna say?”
“Fuck you! The Scarlets are bigger than this! You think this is it? You don’t even kno—” bubbling ensued. Tell me what I don’t know, already... “You...” he coughed several times, “Asshole...”
It was weird. He wasn’t even trying to fight me off. Or maybe unicorns were just this weak physically...? “Then tell me.”
“Fuck you,”
I sighed, thinking, does this pony want to live? “Just explain one thing. Why continue Steel Ranger’s work if you asses failed out?”
“Failed out? What? That fucked rumor is still going aroun? The Scarlets were some of the best! The Steelies were just a bunch of zealots who worshipped technology! You know noth—” Back down under. Back up.
“You kill ponies for tech. Sounds exactly the same to me.”
“You’ll never understand. There’s just too many things you know shit about. Just fucking drown me already.” He said, resignedly. He stopped responding to my questions entirely after that. I won’t hide the fact that I took pleasure in ending it.

It was quite short... As if he intentionally breathed the poison water in. Later, my ignorance regarding my interests in what Scarecrow was saying would bite me in the ass. And by that, I mean that bite would rip half my body off... Not literally, of course...

Getting off his limp body, I started on my way back. I don’t know how, but I was able to make it back in no time... It’s like I had a map in my head or something. I didn’t question it. then I facehoofed at the fact that I didn’t need to use the map in my head, because my Pipbuck had a perfectly fine map already on it. Eh, whatever. Lander awaited me outside of the back entrance.
“It’s done?” He asked, the last three Scarlets’ blood seen pouring from behind the overturned tables behind him.
“It’s done.” I answered, moving towards my dropped equipment that laid untouched where I put it down before.
“The battle out front turned into a one-sided rampage. There’re only a few Scarlets holdin’ the entrance now.” Lander remarked.
“Find anything useful?”
“Not really, nope.”

I re-equipped my battle-saddle... Well, I won’t have another time to do this. Not with such a fitting workshop, anyway. I took out the beam splitter rifle and Mane, placing them both on a workbench.
“What’re you doing?” Lander asked, curiously.
I replied simply with, “Science.”

I imagined him making another one of his “Are you serious?” faces behind me. But I didn’t really care. I finished up pretty quickly... The instructions were surprisingly simple. I threw the less-cool beam rifle in my bag to sell later and set Mane up on the saddle. Then I turned to face Lander. “You probably know you’re not shaking me off again.”
“After t’day, I think it wouldn’t be my smartest life decision. One fuckin’ day out in the wastes and ya kilt off a group of ‘spiring high-tech raiders. Seriously, Rain. This is somethin’ not even I ever seen. Plus, you’re an egghead.”
“Eh, it’s nothin’, real—”

A stampede of hooves cut my sentence. Suddenly, the room was filled with various kinds of wastelander ponies...
“Hey, kid. Are we we still nutless asshats?” One said, most of the others shouting in agreement.

I can’t have two seconds of peace... Dammit, Cave Rat...

Footnote: Sidequest Completed- Drowning Scarlet
__________________________

Notes:
Quest Completed: The Wastelander, Part Two
Quest Added: The Guard, Part One
Level Up!
Perk Added:
Nerd Rage
Effect: +15 DT and Strength increased to 10 whenever health is 20% or lower
Quest Perk Added:
Wastelander

Effect: You have been through physical exertion only the wastes can provide. As such, your STR has increased by one!
STR(5->6)

Chapter Three: The Guard, Part One

Link To Google Document

Chapter Three: The Guard, Part One

“I'm too old for this shit.”

Well, after that altercation, there’s nothing notable to talk about for about four or so months. Me and Lander stuck together from then on. He was bullshitting about dangerous ponies wanting him dead. Lots came to try to get his head, and those lots failed horribly. Well... For a time that’s what I thought anyway. It was going pretty good. We began pooling our caps. No reason to keep them separate if one were to ask the other for caps if one went broke anyway. For a while, I began to think the wasteland wasn’t gonna be so bad.

But the wasteland can never not be bad.

It wouldn’t be appropriate to tell you what happened exactly without letting you in on events beforehand. In the time after the whole Scarlet Rangers ordeal, which was far from over like I said before, I’d met Cave Rat. His birth name was actually Tin Can, and he apparently had a knack for making things that would be considered junk quite useful. Turns out he single-hoofedly built the town’s wall out of loads of scrap metal. I found it way more impressive hearing that. His station, the Cave Broadcast Station(Let’s call it CBS from now on) was nicer than the name implied. It definitely wasn’t a standard cave, at least. Next to the CBS building was the marketplace.

There were only three vendors. Steamer, tall grey buck with a sky blue mane and a magnifying glass for a cutie mark, ran a weapons shop. Silk Boot, little old yellow mare with an orange mane... I never saw her cutie mark; she always had a cloth draping the back half of her body... had a clothing store that sold barding and armor too. Most importantly was Conjunction’s food store. The blue-templated mare also ran the (small) clinic with her younger sister.

For at least two months I made it regular for me to visit The Mix once a day... No, I was not trying to flirt with Mixie. I didn’t even know how to flirt. Yeah I talked to her, I mean, what else would I— Shut up and let me tell the damn story...

Anyway, I visited Mixie’s like usual. Except she was closed. That was weird... Mixie never closed shop this early. I looked at my Pipbuck’s clock... 2 pm. She definitely shouldn’t be closed. I knew she lived on the second floor, and I also knew that had it’s own entrance, so I kn— You have a dirty mind, anypony ever tell you that? For the last time, I could hardly speak to her outside of general conversation! Shush! Ahem... I climbed a short flight of stairs, knocking on the second floor entrance when I reached the top.

She answered the door, but only opened to a crack. A chain-link lock kept it from opening all the way if one were to try. “Oh. Hi Rain...” I hadn’t been out here for months without being able to figure something bad happened.

“Mixie? Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I really shouldn’t get you into this... Please, I can handle it myself...”
“Nonsense. What’s the matter?” I persisted.
She sighed, closed the door, and unlocked the chain. “Come in.”

Her place was pretty neat. The room the entrance immediately opened to feature a fridge along with a small table, two chairs accompanying it, in the corner; towards the center of the room was a couch, a surprisingly clean couch I might add, along with two other chairs. The floors and walls were as cracked as anywhere else in the wastes, no getting around that, but it was certainly one of the cleaner lots in the wasteland; cleaner than mine for sure. Oh yeah, I hadn’t really talked about where I’ve been staying, huh? When it’s not out in a makeshift camp, it’s usually in the local motel. Decent place ran by a decent old mare, but the rooms’ condition was completely dependent on the pony staying there. I wasn’t a very hygienic pony. When it came to keeping my room clean, anyways.

“So, what happened?” I asked, sitting down on a nearby idle chair in the center of the room.
She walked slowly to the couch, head hanging, “You know my brother, right?”
Sure I did. Blueberry Bush was about two or three years younger than me; decent kid, helped Mixie out with the bar time to time but mostly helped with the town’s local scavengers and merchants, doing their small chores for fair pay. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Th-They...” New tears began to pour under her eyes, “They took him...”
I stood up, “Who took him?”
“The Buck-Heads... He didn’t even leave town... I dunno how they got him, but they did... And now they want ransom, else they’ll start sending him back in pieces...” Now she was sobbing. Neither her nor her brother deserved this.
“Say no more. I’ll deal with this.”
“No, I can get the caps... Really, I can do this. I’ll just have to—”
“Don’t say it.” I replied indefinitely, but as softly as I could. No way was I gonna let one of the good ponies on this forsaken wasteland resort to... that. “I’ve made up my mind. These Fuck-heads need to be taught a lesson anyways.”
“But Rain... I don’t want...”
“I’ll be fine. You’re not talking me out of this.”
“But... What if...” She sighed in defeat, “You’re impossible...”
“You’re not the only pony that has come to that conclusion.” Well, at least I got a small crack of what I thought was a smile. “I’ll see you soon.” Off to play hero! … Huh, weird word, that. I didn’t figure myself for a hero. Soon enough, I’d learn that I figured right. Give or take another eight months and I’ll be lying in a puddle of my own blood...

Halfway out the door, I was certain I heard a small whisper say, “Don’t die...”

Footnote: Sidequest added- The Good We Do
*** * ***

It was easy to convince Lander to help in my mission. Aside from the fact he wouldn’t, as a friend, let me risk my life by myself, he didn’t mind replacing raiders with lead-filled pony remains. We already had all our supplies in check; ammo(Albeit hardly any for Mane; crystal packs were scarce out here. Luckily, however, I found out how to recycle used ones I manage to salvage from my uses), barding was stitched, back of our ears were completely dry... Thus we made for the Baltimare Stadium. It was apparently a sporting place in pre-war days, but today it was home to the Buck-Heads. It was a huge dome. Obviously, it hadn’t escaped structural damage; the dome looked like it could cave in given a little more force. There were two entrances I knew about, the front and the back. Both were very large. There were at least a dozen gates on each side for entering the stadium.

That’s the description I got from other ponies, anyway. In actuality, that was pretty accurate though. But the structuring was way better than these ponies led on.

“Welp, this is the place,” Lander said as we arrived several dozen meters from the main entrance, “How do ya wanna ‘proach this thing?”
“They’re buck addicts. They aren’t gonna be smart. Let’s just pick off close-by patrols- if they have any- and go in.” I replied, looking at the sky—Well, the clouds covering the sky anyway— whilst thinking. Not about the complexities of the structure, the subtlety of the mission at hand, or anything like that... But I was genuinely wondering if these addicted fucks had patrol routes...
“Aight,” he acknowledged, just as simply put and blunt as any of his answers were.

I was almost shocked when the first two Buck-Heads turned a corner and started walking towards the dome from a small carriage-parking area. Maybe these ponies had half a brain per fifth member after all, I thought. That thought was immediately shot down as I noticed both were both sleep and buck-deprived. Both problems seemed to do equal damage to their systems, totalling two walking train wrecks.

Two ten-millimeter shots made two dead train wrecks. After those two, another patrol hadn’t come for about an hour. They were just as easily taken out. A couple more hours along with a couple more pairs of pony train wrecks went by. Lander was taking each out with one bullet each. I just sat there waiting for something other than this to happen.

“Lander, let’s just raid the place already. These patrol plans suck. Besides, these ponies probably won’t be able to tell the base was invaded anyway. I could swear one looked right at me and didn’t react in the slightest.” Well, his head burst in an explosion of gore seconds after, but still.
He shrugged, “Iffin’ you want, I c’n stay outside by the entrance ‘n you c’n clear out the ‘mediate area. I don’t like loose ends.”

I agreed. Anything was better than sitting around with my head firmly jammed up my rectum. He set up his sniping spot— Wait, can you set up a sniping spot without a sniper rifle? Whatever. I made my way inside.

Was proper guarding too much to expect from what was supposed to be a hive of superpony-strong raiders? Two ponies similarly weakened as the patrols stood guard not five meters from the entrance. They were unresponsive as I said the other one who saw me was. I even poked one. Fuck it, I thought, not wasting ammo on dead ponies. Not to say I wasn’t gonna double-tap. I bucked them both with my hind-hooves right in their necks. Two snaps, and both went down. Their collapsed throats were choking them, it looked. I ended their misery, slamming their skulls with both my forehooves.

I walked through a row of gates. I wondered why they needed gates after the initial entrance... seemed pointless and redundant. But I shook the thought off; now was not the time to lose myself in thought. I looked around a bit, but nothing worth anything was in sight. You’d think the big Buck-Head base would have, you know, Buck everywhere. There were lots of empty syringes and containers for both chewed and injected variations of the drug, but I didn’t find a single usable one. Don’t get the wrong idea, I didn’t like to use drugs. I had an experience with Dash just a month before and I really didn’t wanna go back to that... mistake. No, I will not talk about it. Some things should just be thrown in a hole in the back of the mind. And then have a house built over that hole. And th— you’ve heard that somewhere? Huh.

Dammit, you’re distracting me again. Anyways, I looked around for a solid ten minutes, not straying too far from the entrance. I hadn’t come across a single pony sense the two at the door. There were (closed) stalls and stands everywhere, advertising food and merchandise that frankly looked useless. The fuck was a hoof made of some sort of foam substance useful for again? I was beginning to wonder if the place was abandoned. But, I heard a faint commotion down the hall...

Ah fuck it, I thought, I’m bored of looking at a lot of nothing. And with that I went investigating. A short walk, and I stumbled upon a large passageway into the actual stadium. The place was huge. The ceiling was reminiscent to the thick clouds that outside featured. There were no walls. Not really. The ‘walls’ were all lined with hundreds, perhaps a thousand or two, seats. I gaped in amazement my eyes not even wanting to blink.

Ponies of old knew how to build shit.

I, like always, stuffed my thoughts into the back of my mind. I had shit to get done. on the field of the stadium, I noticed a rather large operation going underway. It was dark, so I fit in with the shadows perfectly. In fact, I thought only for a second that I was too dark. But then I also remembered that these ponies couldn’t tell if I was even there in front of a wall of pure white, so I simply moved in for a better look, rather uncaring about how I moved so long I made little noise. On the front row of seats, I found a lucky listening point. Despite the movements of ponies fiddling around with boxes, I could hear two ponies talking. I recognized one from Baltimare’s wanted list. The giant burgundy buck with a spiked purple mane and thin but long mustache, along with the trademarked(if trademarks still meant anything) cracked skull Buck-Head symbol on his cheek was Low Road. Leader of the Buck-Heads, and with good reason. He took so much buck, it would kill anypony else. But this fuck’s special talent was taking buck. No joke. He had a syringe labeled ‘buck’ as his fucking cutie mark. How would you even fucking get that I wouldn’t begin to know. The other... Well, her uniform with a weird crystal symbol looked familiar.

“And this is all of it?” The mare with the vaguely familiar uniform said.
“The fuck do you think? Low Road delivers. It costed all my gang’s buck to get this stuff, even had to take a few from my own fucking inventory, but I got it all. Every fucking burning, melting, ear-fucking magical weapon for sale for fucking miles on end are right here.” Low Road said in his expectedly wild, uncontrolled voice.
“Very well. You’ve done the Scarlet Rangers good. Your payment should be coming in from the back entrance now. Ten thousand caps worth of hyper-buck.” ...Scarlets? I thought, No fucking way...
“Fucking. Perfect.” He blinked, “And what about...”
“Your slaves? Yes, the males are the ones bringing the buck in. The Mares should... Ah, here they come now.” A group of two dozen mares walked slowly in from a field entrance across the group packing the weapons.
His smile had a sick aura that you could feel dance around the room, I shit you not. “Very... Nice...”
“And that concludes our business. Can we expect to work in the future, Mister Low Road?”
“Keep the pay this good and the Buck-Heads will fucking never say no.”
And with that, she intently trotted out, ponies carrying the many boxes in tow.

This got insane fast. All I knew was that I needed to find Blue, shoot ponies, do something, and get the fuck out of here.

*** * ***

I snuck back into the hall. Every hair on my coat stood on end. Not because I was nervous, but because the fucking brutes had injected themselves with the new supply of buck and were breaking their new slaves in. Fucking literally. Screams could be heard even from my relatively distant position. I did to that what I did to everything else that bothered me. Threw it in the same hole where that mare’s rotting half-shot head and the burning corpse of the mare my age I’d killed months before were. I now knew I wasn’t a fucking hero. A hero would’ve jumped out to try to save those ponies. I was just some cocky asshole who got in over his head. I didn’t say I was gonna start a fucking slave revolt.

But I did say I’d save Mixie’s brother, and dammit, I was gonna save him.

So I went looking again. I randomly found perhaps the only door that wasn’t locked in the entire fucking stadium. The outside labeled it ‘game room’. I mentally labeled it ‘the most fucked up room in all of fucking Equestria’, and with good reason. Opening the door, I was bucked in the face by the most rancid smell anypony ever smelled. I mean, out of all the things it could smell like, this was THE. WORST. POSSIBLE. THING. Pony guts... They were strewn and draped around the room like fucking decorations. They hung from the ceiling, carpeted parts of the floor, stacked into pillars... It was absolutely sick. I don’t even have to tell you, I was seeing my breakfast right then and there. But there was a blip on my EFS. And it wasn’t red. I turned to see Blueberry Bush. He was bounded. And smelled like... What. The. Fuck. He smelled like, well, what the sleeping mare in the corner of that very room smelled like.

And she smelled like semen.

He was conscious somehow. This kid must be the strongest pony ever. Raped, beat up, bound, and forced to stay in a room made of mutilated pony. Poor kid. He just looked at me with pleading eyes. I then realized he had no idea who I was. He wore glasses. Usually. Obviously, he wasn’t wearing them now.

“Holy shit, Blue...” I whispered.
He seemed to recognize my voice, “You’re... The pony always at Mixie’s...”
I untied his rope bindings. Needless to say, being an earth pony, the task was... difficult. He tried to get up and walk, but would almost always collapse immediately either due to exhaustion or to the fact that he couldn’t see and tripped over everything. Dammit, why couldn’t I wait for Lander... Oh, because this poor kid’s in a room made of ponies. Right. I thought to myself.

“Alright, just... Hop on my back. I’ll carry you out,” I said with resolve.
“... That’s... not...” he tried to say, with little avail. He couldn’t seem to bare to keep his eyes open anymore.
“Fuck being smart,” I said, bluntly.
He sighed and dumped his body on my back. He actually wasn’t that heavy. Being an Earth Pony who actually lived in the wastes, he’d always been quite strong... Wait, that’s very bad, isn’t it? Fuck.

“Just one more thing.” I said, turning to the cunt sleeping in the corner. “Good morning.”
Her eyes opened slowly as she raised her head, “What the...” She blinked, noticing my black box of blue death pointing at her face. “Oh... Fu—” She turned to ash before she finished her last word. One last dead pony for the dead pony room.

I ran out of ‘the most fucked up room in all of fucking Equestria’ and towards the exit. The screams were done, which was enough to make me run faster. My instincts proved right, as I heard the clops of hooves behind me. Most likely because I used a laser gun that wasn’t silent neither shooting nor turning ponies to goo. The clops turned into what sounded like a riot. Obscenities, yelling, and general noise filled the air. As if on queue, Lander peaked inside from the entrance mere yards away.

“...Rain?” He said, hesitatingly.
“Less talk, more getting the fuck out of here!” I yelled in response.
He then noticed the mob chasing me and silently but immediately shared my sentiments.
“What the fuck didja do?” He yelled in question.
“Uhh.... Saved Blue?” And got the entirety of the Buck-Heads, upgraded on super-buck, after us. I supposed that I also left behind over a dozen slaves to die and/or be raped, but that... sickingly, now that I think about it... Wasn’t important to me.
He sighed in frustration, but he wasn’t the type to argue in near-death situations such as these.

Turning the corner, we both froze. Right in front of us was him. Low Road... And he was at least twenty percent bulkier! Where did he... Well, the hole in the wall explained it. Up close, he was a whole neck and head taller than Lander and I. For the first time in months, I almost pissed myself. Ah, memories.

Needless to say, we bolted. The Blueberry Bush hadn’t been much of a hassle to carry. Which still worried me. But I didn’t have time to think about it. Was too busy running for my life, you see. And well, it wasn’t getting us anywhere. Every other corner we had to make a hard turn. It was becoming frustrating more than scary. It went to the point where it didn’t even make much sense where the Buck-Heads were coming from. Hell, it didn’t make much sense where we were coming from.

Eventually things got confusing for everypony and one way or another Lander and I were able to stop for a breather behind a random dumpster. I stood there thinking... This wasn’t working. Running back to the city with this herd wasn’t smart. Nor welcome. Well, I hadn’t gone through with a stupid plan in like, four months. I was just about scheduled for a new one.

“Take Blue back to Baltimare,” I said. Predictably, Lander tried to dismiss that plan quickly. Then and there, in the middle of crossing Hell’s bridge... Me and Lander had an argument. Heh.

“Look, running till they’re exhausted is out of the question. They’re on buck and have tons more waiting for them back in the stadium.” I tried to reason.
“And that’s ‘xactly why ya’ll be slaughtered.” He replied bluntly.
“It won’t help anypony if all three of us are slaughtered.” I shot back, eyes narrowing to a glare.
“Then why can’t I-” I cut him off before he could finish and return the glare.
“I’m more agile than you, old man,” I said as bluntly as he made his previous comment, “So I’ll last longer.”
He almost looked offended, “I’m not... I’m not old!” But, he conceded. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”

*** * ***

I didn’t like running. At all.

They hadn’t let up the chase any. If I stopped too long there would always be the noise of the mob several moments after. But I had to keep running. Becoming part of that room would suck. A lot. I felt like I was gonna have to run forever. I could never not be alert. I jumped at every sound despite my Pipbuck telling me nothing’s there. But I couldn’t inspect the noises. Had to run. Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN!

Stop. I had to stop. Why? Tower of a pony right in front of me. How...? I was running fast...

I mentally slapped my adrenaline-drunk self. Of course he was in front of me. The mob chased me in a circle. Wait. They had stopped following. What...?

I realized I should probably dodge those hooves coming from above. Moving to the right of the burgundy giant, I narrowly got out of the way when two battering rams pummeled the old asphalt to even more broken fragments. He swung his forehooves wildly at me, but I managed to dodge that strike as well. The metaphorical dance persisted for long moments. He was yelling obscenities the entire time. I hadn’t gotten in a good position to aim my battle saddle and fry the leader of the Buck-Heads. All I could do was narrowly dodge his blows, knowing full well that if any connected I was a dead pony. I didn’t even attempt to strike. My bucks would be like pillow blows to this guy for sure. I could only keep dodging and dodging. No different from running, really.

I was less than surprised when he landed a blow. But I was more than surprised when I realized I was still standing. I kept dodging but was still hit quite a bit, but despite the hits I wasn’t dying yet. I surprised myself sometimes.

I was finally given an opportunity. Low Road faltered, tripping on his own rage it seemed. I quickly jumped away and bit down on the bridle of my battle saddle. Lasers lanced through the air with multiple zaps. They all glanced off of him though, searing his coat and flesh. The air smelled of roasted meat and ozone. His jaw tightened as he whined in pain, but he immediately shook that pain off and charged at me again. Dodging to the side, I took more shots point blank. Blue bolts found home in his ribcage. I could imagine a fire of pain, literally, shooting through this pony’s nervous system. But I didn’t care much. I shot blue death until the crystal cartridge was out and empty.

And the bastard was still alive!... Barely. Well, his chest moved up and down.

I grinned. I just beat the bastardest of the bastardest! Not bad. Is somepony saying something? I thought, hearing that in fact, somepony was saying something.
“Fucking... Perfect...” the incredibly large addict rasped, “Beat... I got... Beat...”
“You gonna die any time soon?” I deadpanned, “I got places to go.”
“Fucker... You’ll fucking... Regret... Everything...” He was hardly breathing anymore. I guessed his lungs were either grilled well or partially goop. Wasn’t my problem either way.
“Lemme borrow that,” I said, biting his earring right off. Proof that he’s dead. Ponies work for a living, you know.
“Fuck... er...” His head slumped down finally. Buck-Heads are damned tenacious when they aren’t buck-deprived.

And the mob was back. Fuck. This pony really wanted to do a dramatic battle to the death with the dirty infiltrator as something to show his gang. Ponies are so stupid.

Can’t be helped... More running...

*** * ***

Death. If there’s one thing I know about this curious, fascinating, skin crawling, gut clutching event, it’s that it sucks. The ways ponies can figure how to die is just as curious, fascinating, skin crawling, and gut clutching... Albeit that’s different But it’s something we all have to accept. Even before the war when everything was happy, or so that’s how ponies put it, death was an inevitable end for most life. Well, apparently the “Goddesses” were above death. What? So I have my doubts. So what? I’m just saying, if there were a Goddess or two up in the sky or whatever, you’d think they’d... Help us do better than... This. But no. Ponies live. Ponies die. Again, we all must accept it.

But accept how ponies live and die in this day and age, and you’re a fucking monster. That’s coming from a former one of the fucking monsters himself.

*** * ***

I... I thought I did it. No mob would come into my range of hearing when I stopped. even better, my black-fedora-doning friend had come back. It was like half the weight on my shoulders was gone, and somepony else came along to help carry the rest. I felt... Simply at ease.

But I... Wasn’t smart enough. Didn’t predict this. An overlooked variable ruins the entire equation. ‘a’ squared doesn’t simply equal ‘c’ squared...

Camped at our usual camp spot. It was in the center of an almost crater-like landmass. Small hills rose from all around. Covered the fire so we wouldn’t be noticed.

“So, wha’d I miss?” Lander finally asked as he drank a sip of water. Also, I never told you about his cutie mark did I? Well in case you were wondering, it was a map. In fact, it was visible now; he wasn’t wearing his barding and usually doesn’t when he’s not on the road. I guessed it bothered him more than me, actually wearing something. I couldn’t blame him. Ponies are naturally naked creatures.

Shut the fuck up. I don’t swing that way.

“Nothing big. I set Low Road up in blue laser-induced flames,” I said, almost happily.
“Really now?” He raised a brow, “Naw, you gotta be Brahminshitting me.” That buck took several shotgun blasts to the chest before. In fact, I was under the ‘mpression nothin’ short ova mini-balefire bomb’d do ‘im in.”
“It’s true. Look.” I took out his trademarked(I know trademarks don’t exist anymore, shut up.) earring. It was a precious little thing, really. It was made of gold, or something that looked like gold, and had small gems in it. It was engraved with an unidentifiable name, too.
“I’ll be damned,” He said,looking at it, “Fuck Rain. Just, fuck. Not a year out here and you... Fuck.”
“Not that big a deal, jeez,” I said with a smirk.
“Ah, yeah it is. Anyway, turn your pipthing’s radio on. Rat’s more than likely all over this.

I did what was asked. Ending the day with Cave Rat’s radio didn’t sound bad.

—And there were no survivors. In other news, a ruckus shakes the old Baltimare Stadium, home of your dastardly neighborhood Buck-Heads. Who stirs the trouble? None other than the very same kid who lead the destruction of the Scarlets just months ago! And his friend-guy who you all know as Lander, too. So apparently, the kid was out on a rescue mission. His small party went in and did in fact save the hostage in question who would like to remain anonymous. The Buck-Heads have now seemed to back off and retreated back into their hive. Which is odd. The Buck-Heads are known to tenaciously, vigorously, and persistently chase down ponies they want dead till they either fall off the face of Equestria or are in fact dead. There are suspicions that the kid bucked them backside hard enough for them to back off, but nothing can be confirmed at this time. Anyway, it’s about time I hit the hay. But don’t turn off your radios yet my little ponies, the Cave broadcasts either music or news at any given time!

Despite my displeasure of these songs, Lander liked them. He pestered me to leave it on when I motioned to shut the radio off. The song proceeded to play...

As if on queue, I detected something on my Pipbuck’s EFS... A lot of somethings. Holy fuck. A SHITLOAD of somethings!

“Lander!” I shouted, “Company!”
He snapped up, almost instantly pulling his barding back on and getting his gun in his mouth. I, much more slowly, slipped into my battle saddle. We looked up. Red eyes glared down. A dozen. They belonged to metal ponies decorated with red. Each had visible a crystal on their metal flanks.
“The fuck is this?” Lander yelled in question.
The answer he got was metal rain. This wasn’t a good spot to camp at all.

When you attend a funeral
It is sad to think that sooner or
Later those you love will do the same for you
And you may have thought it tragic
Not to mention other adjec-
Tives, to think of all the weeping they will do
But don't you worry
No more ashes, no more sackcloth
And an hoofband made of black cloth
Will someday never more adorn a sleeve
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve

I bit the bridle of my saddle, blue streaks turned one of them into a heap. Lander sprayed his SMG to little effect, other than getting a lucky shot in one of the metal ponies’ eye sockets. We tried to climb the hill on the opposite side, but it was hard. Hitting us in that position wasn’t a hard task.

And we will all go together when we go
What a comforting thought that is to know.
Universal bereavement, an inspiring achievement
Yes, we will all go together when we go
We will all go together when we go
All suffused with an incandescent glow
No one will have the endurance to collect on his insurance
Lloyd's of Lonpony will be loaded when they go

Missiles streaked. It was in a warzone. Shit exploded all around me. But somehow we both made it to the top, now able to return fire. My battle saddle was almost as quick as Lander was to reload. More zaps to compliment the bangs, booms, and pows.

Oh we will all fry together when we fry
We'll be french fried potatoes by and by
There will be no more misery when the world is our rotisserie
Yes, we will all fry together when we fry
Down by the old balestrom
There'll be a storm before the calm
And we will all bake together when we bake
There'll be nopony present at the wake
With complete participation in that grand incineration
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak

Lander was hit. He was down. Fuck. Not good. I continued my random spray at red lights. Lander got back up even as I saw him bleed from head to hoof. We both dived down the other side of the hill. Only given a moment before the red metal ponies could rain more death, we made for the best cover: a mound of boulders. Lander started talking.

“Get the fuck out’a here.”
At least that’s what I think he said. I read his lips more than heard his voice. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to argue at this point. I certainly wanted to run, and run very fast... but not without him in tow... The rain started hitting again...

Oh we will all char together when we char
And let there be no moaning of the bar
Just sing out a Te Deum when you see that ICBM
And the party will be "come as you are"
Oh we will all burn together when we burn
There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn
When it's time for the fallout
And Saint Meters calls us all out
We'll just drop our agendas and adjourn
You will all go directly to your respective Valhallas
Go directly, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollahs

He didn’t give me a choice. He bucked me off and I instinctively ran from the bullet shower. I didn’t want to... I really, really didn’t. Not without him. All I remember is a lot of bangs. I. Just. Ran.

And we will all go together when we go
Ev'ry Hottentot and ev'ry Eskimo
When the air becomes uranious, we will all go simultaneous
Yes we all will go together, when we all go together
Yes, we all will go together when we go

Footnote: Sidequest Complete- The Good We Do
*** * ***

I eventually made it to Baltimare. Exhausted, capless, and generally feeling bad made the ground look so very soft. But now wasn’t the time to fall on my face. I have to... Have to...

“What the fuck do I have to do?” I whispered to myself aloud. Lander was dead, I was sure, I had nothing except my name, saddle, and laser gun. I couldn’t tell Mixie... She’d blame herself, and her brother probably would too. Staying out here for the night... Less than safe all things considered. I let out a sigh, and trotted over to Mixie’s whilst trying to think of a sound enough excuse for Lander’s... Absence...

Long story short, I suck at lying. She caught on eventually. She tried to cheer me up and insisted binge drinking was only gonna kill me, but I really couldn’t stand to acknowledge the gesture. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t bring herself to simply stop giving me what I asked, though. Which pretty much all consisted of that really good drink she made all those months ago.

Even drinking got old though. I eventually got to the point where I just sat there and stared at random objects that happen to cross my field of view.

And one of those objects looked like a walking corpse. My first time seeing a ghoul didn’t startle me too much. Dad talked to me all the time about the sane ones. He never talked about the insane feral ones to much though. Said it brought back bad memories. But this one was different among the rest of the ponies around the bar, looking dead aside. He or she was looking at me back.

I coughed.

“Oh, ah, sorry mate. I just couldn’t help but notice you drownin’,” From the sound of it, she was a mare. I shouldn’t neglect to mention her voice didn’t sound like it was being processed by a cup of nails. And it was in another strange accent.
“Well some ponies like drowning. I’m not that un-fond of it right now in fact,” I said flatly. Then burped. That was rude of me, huh?
The ghoul sat on next to my own, “Well let’s see if I could change a drunk bloke’s mind. Tell Ol’ Relly about it.”
I raised a brow, “I don’t—” Ah, fuck. I vomited in my mouth. Maybe I should stop drinking. Mixie was thoughtful enough to leave a bucket just for the (inevitable) occasion. Face green under my coat, I wiped the remaining stomach fluids from my mouth, “—mean to be rude... But why do you care?” Vomit tastes awful, by the way.
“Unlike many other jerkasses out here, I care about ponies. That so hard to belie—” she must’ve either realized it was hard to believe or caught my “You can’t be serious” face, “Well I do!”
“... Alright...” I conceded, “Well, me and a friend went out to save somepony... Met old enemies along the way... He died. Worse, he died saving me.” I let out, feeling as though it was all one sigh.
She thought a moment before replying, “... Yeah, those situations tend to suck.”
I looked up, “Who are you?”
“Ah, I call myself Ol’, Relly... But I was called Reliable way back when life didn’t suck too bad. I didn’t originally come from ‘questria neither. Way back when names of places on the global scale mattered, I lived in a place called Macropodistan. Place ran by a bunch of blokes called Kangaroos. Good enough people. Doubt there’s any left.”
She’s from... somewhere else? Wait, there’s a somewhere else besides where Ponies and Zebras come from? I thought to myself.
“Yes.” She can read minds too!? “No, I’m just good at distinguishin’ what you mean by the look of your face! No poker face hides from Ol’ Relly!”
...This mare is weird. ”The weirdest!” Fuck! Get out of my head! “No can do, mate..”

Well, that’s odd. I laughed. When was the last time that happened? I was a lot younger, probably. “You’re a character...” I began again, “So, Relly, what exactly do you do to make a cap?”
“Oh, I’m a guard.”
“Guard? I’ve never seen you in the regular guard posts, and I’ve seen just about every pony who lives in Baltimare period.”
“Oh, I don’t work in this city. I guard caravans. You know, traveling traders.”
“Huh, that makes more sense...” Maybe... “Your caravan doesn’t happen to have a spot open, does it? I kinda have little to nothing to do.”
“I don’t rightly know, tell you the truth.” Aw, dammit. Well, here’s to doing noth— “But the doll who leads it is a sweetheart and a sucker for misfortunate ponies. I’m sure she’d allow for a pony capable enough.” she said with a (grossly) friendly smile.
“I... Thanks. Maybe I can... Get over... This.”
“I understand, mate. Blokes need something not-depressin’ sometimes. I’ll meetcha outside this place tomorrow mornin’. Then we’ll talk to the boss.”
“Sounds great. Seriously, thank you.”

My mind was way more at ease. And my brain was now feeling the severe effects of drinking too much. I had put off the soft-looking floor for too long. I fell, embracing the softest damn floor in all of existence with a crash.

__________________________

Notes:
Quest Completed: The Guard, Part One
Quest Added: The guard, Part Two
Level Up!
Perk Added:
Run ‘n Gun
Effect: Halved spread with one-handed ranged weapons while walking or running.

Chapter One: The Wastelander, Part One

Link to Google Document

Chapter One: The Wastelander, Part One

“Great kid, don’t get cocky!”

I’ve been traveling the wastes for what felt like hours. It must’ve been. Time can’t possibly take this long! No matter how bored I got, there was nothing to do but trot along this road. It led to some town I couldn’t remember the name of, so why not head there first? While it was supposed to be an uneventful journey, the wasteland never let you go as planned. Soon enough, I stumbled upon... a lot of dead ponies.

There were at least a half dozen. They had obviously fought to the death, but all I saw were obviously raiders. You don’t find raiders kill raiders too much, so that wasn’t likely, especially when they all had the cracked skull mark on the side of their faces that represented their gang. This one in particular had an interesting name... The Buck-Heads. They were, as the name implied, obsessed with the drug known as Buck. Not a single dead pony amongst them hadn’t the mark. Well, there was one still alive. All four of his legs were broken, but he seemed to hardly feel it. He was just minding his own business, gorging himself with the remains of one of his comrades. I looked at the scene in disgust. I bit the handle of a displaced cleaver and jammed the sharp object into the back of the cannibalistic buck’s head. He spasmed a bit before he went limp. After I made sure none of the others were alive, and they weren’t, I looted their valuables.

Now that’s something you don’t see ever. These ponies weren’t looted. I knew they were fresh killings; that buck was still alive and on his first serving of dead pony after all. But nopony would leave any possible loot behind. I shrugged it off; more loot for me. I collected a few more caps, poorly-handled firearms and some ammo, and something interesting... A plasma pistol. The plasma-type weapons were similar to beam-type in that they both used crystals as ammunition. But, beam weapons were much faster in terms of rate of fire. Plasma weapons were slower but more powerful per shot. That’s how I understood it after my session the day before, anyway. It was in fine condition, too... According to my Pipbuck. This thing was great. It even had values for whatever I pick up in caps!

It also had Eyes-Forward Sparkle. Which came in handy right then and there when I noticed an orange rectangle on its display creeping about behind a rock. I unsheathed my 10mm pistol with my mouth after yelling out, “Alright, come on out!”
A larger figure came into view. A gruff buck; dirt brown coat, darker brown mane. Earth Pony. He wore barding and donned a black fedora. He held his own 10mm.... Sub-Machine Gun...! In his mouth. He spoke surprisingly clearly, with a deep accent.
“Either ya ‘ave the eyes of an eagle with a fuckin’ telescope or y'all're from a stable.” I also noted the almost cliche scar right under his eye, slanted on his cheek.

I decided neither fighting him nor putting the gun away were smart moves... I tried talking, but what came out was mostly gibberish. He simply narrowed his eyes. After a very tense moment, for me at least, they widened as he noticed my young age. He sent his gun to its holster and I relaxed.
“Boy, spit that thing out before ya hurt somepony. ‘N what the Sam Hill didja say?”
With a sigh of relief, I holstered my own weapon. “I said I’m neither... I just happen to have a Pipbuck.”
He looked over at the raiders warily before asking, “Ya did this?”
I blinked and shook my head no. “I just got here. One of the sick bastards was still alive and eating a dead mare, though.”
“Did ya loot ‘em?”
“...Y-yes.”
“Damn shame. Twas a job, y’see. I’structions said ta kill ‘em, but not ta loot them...”
I gulped. Did I have something he wanted?
“Eh, whatever...”

Awkward silence. This silence lasted a few moments; I just stood there still a little uneasy with my new ‘acquaintance’. He finally broke it again. “What’s your name, boy?”
I hesitated for the slightest moment, “Rain.”
His mood seemed to lighten. “If that's yer name... That’s yer name. I would’ve called ya somethin’ else though. Ya c’n call me... Lander.”
“That was a... massive change in mood there, Mister Lander.”
“I follow my instincts and they say y'all're a good kid.”
I was certain he was lying one way or another, but I didn’t care too much. If he wanted something he could take it from me easily. And he’d be red on my EFS if he meant immediate harm. “An’ it’s just Lander.”
“Well, I hope I’m entitled to a few questions myself now. You said something about a job?” I asked, eyes narrowing.
“Eyup. I’d normally jus’ be travlin’, but I d’cided to take a job. So like I said, the pony who wanted ‘em dead wanted ‘em left alone after they were. Somepony must’ve known ‘bout the job else they would’ve looted ‘em. So, somepony won’t be happy about some youngin stealing their liveli work.” He paused as I frowned ever so slightly. Well, fuck. First day out in the wasteland and somepony likely wants me dead... or they will, anyway. “Okay, c’mon with me.” He began, decidedly, “I ‘ave other jobs, ya look fresh to the wasteland and won’t last another week on yer own. Help me with my jobs, we’ll split the caps, and ya won’t die.”

Well, being with somepony who looked to have years of wasteland experience while earning caps sounded good. Albeit, it was pretty much the only option there was to take. Sure, this could end badly, but this was the fucking Equestrian wasteland... What couldn’t?

“Sure.”

*** * ***

Lander’s next job was a … Rescue mission. Seriously? Lander didn’t give me the impression of a heroic character, but that was the job all the same. A former slave apparently had to leave his family behind when he escaped himself. He wanted them back, or at least their bodies. The slaves in question were a blue colt without a cutie mark yet, and a purple mare with a bundle of carrots as her cutie mark. They were named Paperback and Table Salt respectively.

After a few hours of travel, we arrived on a hill overlooking an average-sized camp. He unsheathed his SMD and said almost creepily clearly, “Ready?” How this pony talked so normally with the handle of a gun in his mouth was beyond me.
“Yup.” I replied as I brought my own gun to bear- the pistol again. I decided to play it conservatively with Mane. On the count of three, we jumped from our superior ground. I activated the Stable-Tec Auto-Targeting Spell- S.A.T.S.- and a very organized firing queue came up as the world came almost to a halt. The system had seven ponies as targetable. Six slavers, plus Lander. I queued up five shots, depleting the spell’s magic; three to the face of a surprised-looking unicorn mare right below me, not even fetching her weapon I clearly saw in its holster and a bulky buck two yards the the right of her, coming out of a tent. The first shot missed, hitting dirt and zooming past her head. The second grazed her cheek on the opposite side, blood trickling out the trivial wound. The third... shot half her face off! A damn lucky hit. The two aimed at the buck hit, but the seemed to have been stopped by his barding.

S.A.T.S. ended as I hit the ground with four simultaneous clops. I merely glanced at the dead mare missing half her face, collapsing to the ground... blood pooling beneath her skull... Brains easily seen, slowly moving out to join the gore beneath her. The glance had turned into a stare by now. Her wide eyes- eye, dammit...-still had that same surprised look. I hadn’t noticed the one-sided carnage around me as Lander slew most every pony not in shackles or cages. I hadn’t noticed the buck I shot grabbing a sledgehammer. I hadn’t noticed him running towards me. I hadn’t noticed when his head exploded and his blood sprayed in my face. I just store into the gaping hole on the side of the face of the mare I just killed.

I was finally slapped by a brown hoof. I shook my head, snapping out of the gore-induced trans. “Huh? What?” I blinked rapidly, regaining my awareness of the world. “Oh.. Thanks...”
He had a serious frown on his face. “What happened there? Ya almost kilt yerself!”
I glanced -really, glanced this time- at the dead mare’s corpse. “I... I’ve never seen.... that before. I’ve shot at Raiders before but... that just seemed... wrong.”
“The wastes git worse than that, kid. Ya have to suck it up, at least while yer life is at stake.” Lander said, with a hint of frustration. I remembered what dad told me before we split. I had to survive... That wasn’t gonna happen if I freeze as soon as I see blood spill. That’s where it began I think. The slow dissent... however, the decision in retrospect hadn’t been stupid. It had saved me a few times; acting without thinking was required every once in awhile it turned out. “Yeah, it won’t happen again.”

For now, the issue was dropped. The job said nothing regarding the slaver’s belongings, so I began looting as Lander freed the slaves looking for the mare and her son. Then, I noticed how good my new companion was at killing. There were more than just the half dozen I saw initially. And they were decimated. Some of the ponies were dead before they could get a shot off; their guns were still mostly fully loaded. Those that had looked to have missed; Lander was unscathed...

The slavers had a solid supply. A few hundred caps. Lots of guns; too much for me to carry in fact. I took out another repair book dad left for me and began lessening the weight by picking out the best parts of some guns and repairing others with it. Aside from that, there was lots of ammo, some healing potions, an assortment of drugs, a note, which I didn’t care too much for but tossed it in my bag anyway, and... What the hay? A beam rifle? This looked different, though. Something had been added to it, but I lacked the knowledge of energy weapons to put my hoof on it. I grabbed it and dropped it in my saddle bag. The Pipbuck labeled it, ‘beam splitter rifle”. I decided now was a good moment to test my three energy weapons. The plasma pistol shot out something like... projectile liquid. It was green and generally weird. The beam rifle sliced the air with two beams that flew side-by-side uniformly. No question why it was called a beam splitter rifle. I accidentally hit a dead slaver mare... She consequently turned into ash. I put both away, taking out Mane. It used the same ammo as the beam rifle, just as dad said, so I decided I’d use Mane primarily. Combining it with the other beam rifle was out of the question; I had no idea how to handle the weird attachment on it. Mane shot out a blue beam that streaked through the night. Incidentally, it too hit a dead pony. That pony... unexpectedly turned into a blue gooey substance.

Energy weapons were weird... But... SO. FREAKING. AWESOME. I wondered if I’d be able to make the beam on Mane separate into two like the beam splitter rifle... that’d make it officially 20% cooler. I packed it back up in my bag with its energy weapon brethren and trotted back to Lander. “Found them?”
“Eyup,” he motioned his head to two ponies; a purple mare and a blue colt just like the description said. “Let’s hurry and get going.”

I looked at the remaining free slaves. They’d just get caught again if we left them defenseless, wouldn’t they...? “Eh, I don’t like guns anyway.” I unpacked my small arsenal I collected throughout the camp, and laid them out on the floor in front of them. “But don’t make me regret it.” And with that I caught up with Lander and our two... clients I guess? We headed to the nearby road, a sign by it reading ‘Baltimare: five miles away’.

Footnote: Karma Gained
*** * ***

I really started to dislike traveling; it was tedious! There was nothing to do except walk! Why couldn’t the wasteland come with honorary trains or something? It gives ponies all the worst possible terrors and environments, and just to spite us we have to walk everywhere.

In light of this, I tried to spark conversation with our ‘clients’. “So, uh, what’s your story?” I asked the average-sized Purple earth pony mare. Given a better look, I saw she had a pink mane with various bluish streaks about it.
“Oh, ah... You know my name, right? Table Salt. We lived in a little town called Promm. It was recently taken over by bandits. Those who didn’t hole themselves up in the town’s motel were sold- that’s what happened to us... My husband was out hunting when it happened.”

Just then, I heard the sound of a tin can being kicked right behind us. Instinctively, I jumped in front of Salt and her Colt. Lander already had his SMG out. “Who’s there?” I called out, readying my own sidearm. A figure came into view... When I say this pony looked like he hadn’t a minute of sleep in at least two weeks, I mean it. He was twitchy, he eyes had dark bags under them, and went lazy a few times. He started surprisingly calmly, looking at me without blinking despite the fact his eyes obviously wanted to shut. “You... You have something I want.” I immediately thought of the job at hand and glanced back at the mare and her son. “No, not... Not them... The lights...”
Lights? “Uhh... what?”
“Careful Rain, he looks like he could snap any second...”
“The... Lights... Green and red... lights...” Drumroll proceeds....
Green? Red? The energy weapons? “What do you want with them...?”
“Lights...” Almost there...
“Yes, but-”
“Lights!” Annnnd...
“But-”
“LIIIIGHTSSS!” Snap.

He jumped at me. I don’t know how I thought of it at the time, maybe pure instincts? Whatever made me do it, I grabbed one of the very underappreciated guns the raiders had from way back at the above-ground graveyard with my mouth and smashed it against the crazy pony’s face. He hit the floor, out cold. Lander gave me an odd look. “Why not shoot 'im?"
“I dunno... I just... did something. I wasn’t really thinking.” I replied, not taking my eyes off the unconscious insane pony.
“Well, you check up on our precious cargo, I’ll tie him up and see what he wants with the lights when he wakes up...”
With a nod, I trotted off to them.

*** * ***

The crazy pony woke up several hours after the incident the incident that resulted in his unconsciousness. We had set up a decent camp for the night already when he came to. I think being unconscious helped him more than hurt him. He looked to be thinking somewhat coherently now. “What.. What is this?” He said, almost panicking at the rope binding his two front hooves and two back hooves together respectively.
“You said something about lights?” I said, munching on a Radigator steak whilst sitting on a dead stump.
“Wh- You’re the one who took them!” He fidgeted around in his bindings for a bit before giving up, still looking frustrated.
“Shut up and explain already,” I said, rather bluntly. “What do you want with these weapons?”
“I told you not to take them! I wrote it down and double checked after I double checked!”
“You’re the one who put the job up?” Lander asked skeptically, “Figured you look... More sane with all those caps you wanted...”
“They are mine! Give them to me!” He began struggling again, but with declining mental health it seemed. His eyes soon enough turned bloodshot as if his insane just... turned on. “I NEED THEM! GIVE THEM TO ME!”
I got off the stump, getting ready to knock him out again. Perhaps more ‘sleep’ would... Wait, why was there blood everywhere all the sudden?

I just looked blankly at the blown open carcass of the once crazy pony. Yup, he’s dead. But... why? Lander looked only a little dumbfounded. “There was an ‘xplosive in ‘im... Somepony wanted those weapons bad, ‘n was pro’ly usin’ this guy to get ‘em. No wonder he was so off.” I thought for a second before realizing that a corpse also meant nothing belonged to anypony on the pony’s body and began looting. That awarded a distinct ‘Are you serious?’ look from Lander but I shrugged it off.

Wow, this Pony had a resounding nothing on him. All I found was a note. Eh, why not? I began reading.

Alright Zig-Zag, this is your last chance. It couldn’t be
helped, you’re an armed time bomb waiting to explode
now. Get those weapons and get them fast. You
have 48 hours. I like you, so I took the liberty of finding
them for you. One is held by a group of raiders, the
slavers have the other. Find somepony to do the dirty
work for you, deal with it yourself, I don’t care. But you
need to get it done this time. Seriously. If and when
you find them, head to HQ. …
That next part was scratched out, but it looks like it read “You remember, right?”
It’s in the old weapons factory. You know the one,
the Pre-War magic science thing. Get this done, I’d
rather not hear that your chest exploded out from
inside you in two days. Later.
Scarecrow.

Well that actually helped quite a bit. I told Lander what I found, as I put it in my bag.
“Huh. I’ll look into this more when we get to Baltimare. Let’s get some rest and we’ll leave as soon as dawn comes... But ya get first night watch duty.” He said, flatly.
“What? That’s-” I started, but he cut the protest off.
“Ye're the help, ‘member? Plus, that piece o’ metal on yer hoof has better eyes than I.”
“Ah, fine” I said in defeat. So then I sat there waiting...
And waiting...
Still waiting...

Waiting is fucking boring...

__________________________

Notes:
Quest Completed: The Wastelander, Part One
Quest Added: The Wastelander, Part Two
Level Up!
Perk Added:
Bloody Mess

Effect: Ponies and creatures you kill will often explode into a red, gut-ridden, eyeball-strewn paste. Fun! Oh, and you'll do 5% more damage with all weapons.
Quest Perk Added:
Junior Wastelander

Effect: You have tasted the first dishes the wasteland has to offer! You’ve come to know that unexpected things are to be expected. As such, your PER shalt be increased by one!
PER(4->5)