Fallout Equestria: Curiosity

A dull pain washed over me as I lay with my back in the dirt, eyes still closed. I had finally woken up from passing out and collapsing onto the hard ground, and surprisingly I felt much better than I did before passing out. My head was slightly throbbing, but I believed that was more from the emotional trauma than the fact that I suffered physical injuries. Luckily I wasn't in any physical pain, as the potion had seemed to have tended to all my wounds, but emotionally I felt injured and destroyed.

I had killed a pony.

Sure it was in self defense, but I had still ended another living, breathing, feeling creature's life. I had killed another pony, somepony who probably had friends, and family, and emotions, and just the thought of that hurt. All I felt was a dull ache internally, one that stung, and the sting worsened the more I thought about the kill. I was hurt, but hurt even worse when I realized that it was a completely justified kill. I had not committed a wrong in killing that pony, he was evil; at least to an extent. He had murdered his own brother in cold blood, and threatened to kill me, he had even tried to kill me.

The fact that I was able to justify it hurt the most. I had never thought about killing a pony before, even though I had planned on being a military member in the Enclave. I had never imagined taking the life from another pony, let alone in such a... disgusting manner.

Looking down at myself I saw that I was still covered in blood, except now it was dried. I had spent a night covered in it, letting it dry onto me, all disgusting and slick, all over me. I could feel it on my face, and looking at my hooves I could see the thick coat of blood on them, and on my armor, which had caked. I was completely coated in it, and it was now completely dried on me. The blood of another pony was stuck to me.

The blood itself completely sickened me, and the fact that I was able to justify killing the pony whose blood it was only made me hurt worse. The justification was absolutely destroying me, and not because I thought it made me a bad pony for justifying killing somepony, but because things actually were so bad down here that I was forced to kill him. That it was so bad he had turned bad himself, as if the wastes had corrupted his very soul.

It hurt knowing things really were this terrible here, and that the Enclave knew. And we hadn't done anything to help. I knew the government had been lying, knew that they were hiding all something from the civilians. Hacking my father's terminal taught me that, told me it was bad here. But part of me didn't believe that it could be that bad, that I was lied too, and that it was even worse than I could have imagined.

And I had only spent about day here. Who knows what horrors are out there the Enclave has ignored?

So no, it wasn't the justified kill that hurt, no that wasn't it at all. Sure I hated the fact I had killed somepony, beaten them with my own hooves until they stopped flailing and screaming. Yes, at that I was quite upset, but I think the thing that hurt the most was that I was actually seeing the lie in full. I had completely pulled open the veil that had shrouded the truth, and was finally seeing what it was like down here, finally knowing fully that I had been lied too. I hated it the more I thought about it, that the Enclave could just leave all these ponies to die, and it immediately justified my being here.

Thank Celestia I left those bastards.

I laid there for a little while longer, thinking about it a bit more, and feeling sorry for myself until I finally fully regained my bearings, and realized just how uncomfortable lying on a small amount of supplies and some dirt was. I realized it was probably time to get up and start moving on, continue my travels, and my eyes slowly began to flicker open. I found myself looking up at the cloud coverage above, small beams of sunlight occasionally shooting through it.

The more I stared up at the coverage, the more I felt terrible about myself. Just knowing that I had been a part of a community that was keeping all these ponies below stuck in the hell they lived in, keeping them from ever seeing what was above made me realize how terrible we truly were, We were taking from these poor ponies who already had so little the beauties of the sunlight, the wonders of the moon, and from ever seeing the stars gently flickering over you while you stared up at the sky. Things that everypony should know, everypony should always be able to see, we were taking from them for ourselves, and keeping them from ponies who already had so little.

Up there, above the clouds, staring at the sky always provided some form of beauty. There was a whole plethora of stars, the sun in your eyes or the moon beaming down on you. Down here staring up at the sky only got you a great look at the same depressing cloud coverage, that you always knew was hiding a whole world up there, a world of safety, that you could never achieve. You weren't born right. As if the mood down here didn't already feel sad and desperate enough there was always that to make it worse for the ponies down here.

Finally after a long amount of staring I decided I couldn't handle any more depressing cloud coverage, and decided to go, sluggishly rolling over and forcing myself to stand up, pushing myself up on all four hooves and stretching out as I stood. I looked at all the supplies I had set out on the ground for the two slave ponies, and then glanced over at the corpse of the innocent pony nearby, the one who had unexpectedly been murdered in cold blood by his own brother. I stared at it for a second, but quickly looked away. I couldn't keep looking. The blood I was caked in was his. A sadness began to wash over me again, and I quickly began to pick up all my things trying to ignore what had happened.

I didn't even bother fully examining the corpse of the pony who's head I had brutally bashed in, as I already has the exact details of how his brutalized and bloodied head looked, the bloody pulp it had been turned into by the stomping force of my hooves. I knew the memory of that fight would forever be engraved in my mind, and I knew I'd always remember every last detail, right down to the screams of pain and sickening crunches.

After collecting and packing up all my things I took one more look around to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. After looking around at the nearby surroundings, and checking through Pip-Buck inventory sorter I soon realized just how hungry I was. I looked at the clock on my Pip-Buck to check the time, and saw that I had slept from whatever time it had been last night, too noon. I had left my own home at around eleven at night, which probably meant I had slept for around ten hours if I was correct on my hunch that I didn't pass out until one.

Seeing as it was noon, I decided it was a fine time to eat, and it would probably be good for to eat a slight bit of my food and take a drink from my canteen. I began to get out some of the things I could eat without taking the time to cook, and opened the containers. I ended up hastily devouring the food and quickly drinking my water, as I was much hungrier than I had thought, having not eaten since the night before.

And I guess fighting someone to the death probably increased your appetite.

As I ate my meal (a delicious can of oats) I thought about burying the two ponies who had died. I knew that at least the innocent one deserved a proper burial, to be put into the ground with a little marking, but eventually I decided I would leave the corpses there to decay on their own. I couldn't bring myself to handle the dead, yet that wasn't the problem to me. The problem was that I didn't even know this pony's name, and leaving him out here to decay to the waste seemed like it would honor him more than putting him in an unmarked shallow grave next to his killer.

I hastily finished eating, not wanting to spend too much more time near the corpses, and I took one more swig from my canteen before slinging it back around my neck. I double checked my saddlebags with the Pip-Buck sorter, and made sure they were fully strapped into my sides. I checked to make sure my battle saddle was fully loaded in case I came into trouble (I didn't feel like beating my way out of the next fight).

I had double checked everything, and was able to leave. I contemplated burying the corpses one more time, and felt myself feeling conflicted. I finally decided to just leave the dead where they laid, and that it was time to head out and finally start traveling. It was finally time for me to truly begin my journey.

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

I hadn't thought about it when I was leaving the Enclave, hadn't thought about what I would do when I got down here, but now it was hitting me. I was completely lost, with absolutely no idea where I should go, what I should do, or how I was supposed to find a single pony in this massive wasteland. I had absolutely no leads on where to find him, no idea where anything was in the wasteland, except for one location, and somewhere out there, possibly near the place I had landed was a town called New Appaloosa, and the ponies who had told me about that place had both died horrifically, one at my hooves.

Unfortunately for me I bad absolutely no idea where it was. If I knew where it was I could have probably flown there quite quickly, being a pegasus and all. But alas I didn't know where it was, so I couldn't just fly there.

So instead of aimlessly flying around the wasteland I had decided to walk. Sure, maybe I could have saved time finding the town by flying, but I chose not to. I had no idea where to even begin looking, and I didn't want to end up on the other side of the wastes entirely.

And even if I had had the slightest idea of where I was going I probably wouldn't have flown there. I liked this whole walking to places thing, it felt so... special. Sure everypony born without wings had to walk everywhere everyday, but I had hardly ever stood on solid, hard, ground, let alone dirt, and walking down here getting my hooves dirty made me feel special compared to walking up in the Enclave. It sort of let me distance myself from being a cloud walker, and right now I wanted to be as far from the Enclave as possible. Plus I figured that walking places would allow give me a higher chance of stumbling upon another pony, or find some places to explore, or an adventure to be had.

So I walked across the wasteland, not on any specific path, in hopes of finding New Appaloosa, and maybe a lead to Calamity.

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

I spent two uneventful days walking by hoof, only stopping to sleep, eat, or do the occasional inventory check or maintenance. I hadn't found many places that had caught my eye, and nothing really exciting happened for those two days, except the excitement when rain came down and washed the blood off of me. Not completely, but enough to make me feel better.

I soon discovered that traveling alone absolutely sucked, as I was extremely bored with nopony to talk to. I wanted companionship, of any kind, any sort of friendly voice talking to me, and eventually I found solace in activating the Pip-Buck radio.

When I activated it I hadn't expected to find a signal to anything down here. It was a wasteland, what were the chances of there being radio? But lo and behold I found a signal, the radio show of a pony named "DJ-Pon3"(I assumed it was a stage name). In the loneliness of those two days I took solace in listening to his news reports and musical broadcasts.

As I walked along, my third day of traveling, I listened to the radio intently, as a somber lyrical piece finished, leading into a broadcast from the stallion running the station.

DJ Pon3 had been my only "friend" (I say so loosely, as I did not even know him) for the past two days of traveling, and hearing his news broadcasts instead of silence or music was like a gift to me. I was just happy to hear another (living, the music and singing didn't count!) ponies voice.

“This is DJ Pon3, and that was Sweetie Belle, singing about that one great truth of the wasteland: every pony has done something they regret.  And now, my little ponies, it’s time for the news!  Now you ponies remember when I told you ‘bout those two ponies who crawled themselves out of Stable Two?  Well, I’ve been gettin’ reports that one of those little ponies took out the raider nest in the heart of Ponyville, and saved several pony captives -- including the beloved author of The Wasteland Survival Guide, Ditzy Doo!  Hey kid, thanks!  From all of us!"

The broadcast continued on, something about the weather, but I quickly shut it off right there.

My E.F.S. (Eyes Forward Sparkle, a spell on the Pip-Buck that showed a little radar indicating if anything was nearby) had lit up, indicating that somepony was somewhere behind me. The radar showed them as friendly, but if my first night here had taught me anything it was that I should be cautious of other ponies. There was also the chance it was some wild animal that hadn't seen me yet and was going to attack.

I turned around to see what it was, to be greeted by the sight of another pony standing a few feet away from me. Well what appeared to be another pony. It looked like a unicorn.

As I examined the figure standing there, I soon discovered it was no pony, it was definitely something else. Something that was a pony, but now appeared to be...  a walking rotting corpse.

I screamed and jumped back several feet, afraid of whatever it was standing slightly away from me, and the rotting corpse moved forward. I quickly stood back up, and took a defensive position, mouth wrapping around my battle saddle trigger, as I activated S.A.T.S. to lock onto it.

"Whoa whoa whoa calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you." The creature said, a raspy male voice coming from it.

I stumbled back a little, even more scared now that it was talking.

"W-what are you?!?" I screamed, horrified.

"Oh come on," He said, rolling his eyes. "You're living down in the Equestrian Wasteland, and you mean to tell me you don't know what a ghoul is?"

He moved slightly forward, and examined me closely.

"Oh I see." He said, eyes widening. "You're one of those Enclave members from above the clouds. That's why you're wearing that uniform."

He examined me further, looking at my armor. He began to move forward, as if to see it better, but I moved into a defensive position again, causing him to stop.

"No need to be so defensive, I won't bite." I braced again after he said that, causing him to realize his poor choice of words. "Sorry, poor choice of words. I'm just trying to get a closer look of your uniform, and if I'm not mistaken you've got the Dashite mark sown onto it. You a runaway?"

"N-not exactly." I replied.

He took a long look at me before shrugging, and continuing the conversation.

"So you don't know what a ghoul is then?"

"Wh-what's a ghoul?" I asked curiously, still cautious of him, and frankly quite nervous.

"I guess I'll enlighten you then. A ghoul is somepony like me," He pointed to himself. "Who's been exposed to an extreme amount of radiation. Once we've been exposed our bodies start to sort of... rot and decay, like a corpse, but we can live for extended amounts of time, and are practically immune to radiation. It's got it's perks and downfalls, one of the downfalls being that someponies are bigoted towards us."

"So..." I said while lowering my guard to move closer towards him. "You're like... a zombie pony?"

He laughed slightly, and smiled at me.

"Normally I'd take offense to that, but you're new here so I'll let it slide." He said, still slightly chuckling to himself. "I'm just a pony like you, no zombie qualities to me but the walking corpse part. Now some ghouls are like me, and we're just like a regular pony, but then you do have the zombie pony types of ghouls. They've been exposed to an ungodly amount of radiation, to the point where they've lost their minds, and roam around feasting upon other ponies."

"That's..." I trailed off a bit and shuddered at the thought. The idea of losing my mind and wondering around eternally as a rotting corpse, only to feast upon other ponies was terrifying. "That's horrifying!"

"Well no need to worry!" He said laughing, smacking my back, and wrapping his hoof around me in a friendly manner. "I'm not one of those ponies! I'm quite sane as you can see, just a bit... uh rotty?"

"Well no matter Misses Runaway, I've been dilly dallying in why I approached you in the first place!" He said enthusiastically before pausing for a moment, leaning in to whisper. "That is of course if you're willing, and aren't discriminant towards ghouls."

"And why is it that you approached?" I asked looking at him quizzically, shrugging his hoof off my back. "And no I'm not discriminant toward you. Why should I be? You're an immortal pony! How cool is that?"

"Well that is good than!" He said laughing. "If I may, what is your name?"

"I'm Curiosity!"

"Pleasure to meet you Curiosity!" He said extending his hoof. "You can call me Charming Tale."

I took his hoof, and he shook vigorously.

"A silly name, I know, but I quite prefer it to my old name. Before the war I had one even sillier!" He said with a laugh.

"Now about the reason why you came up to me." I said while pulling my hoof back.

"Oh yes!" He said, his eyes lighting up. "I need help with a raider situation. But first, I'm willing to bet you don't know what a raider is since you're fresh out of the sky?"

I thought about it for a moment, trying to recall anything about raiders. I remembered that the first two ponies I had met mentioned them, and that they shouldn't even be considered ponies anymore. I assumed they were some kind of irradiated monster. (Radiation, Raider, it just made sense! Or I was just stupid?)

"Is that some kind of radiation monster?" I asked, to which he responded by laughing heartily in my face.

"Not even close young mare." He responded. "A raider is a pony, usually in a group, who goes around killing, raping, looting, and stealing. Basically ponies turned into bandits. They have absolutely no regard for the lives of other ponies, and are completely psychopathic and sick in the head, at least most of them. They torture other ponies, force families to fight against each other for amusement, rape you, beat you, anything terrible you can think of to hurt another pony, and then when all is said and done they'll end your life in some horrific manner, and probably display your entrails around their base like decorative items.

He paused for a moment and sighed.

"They really aren't ponies anymore. They don't deserve to be considered anything less than a wild, vicious animal. They're one of the most terrible lot of the wasteland, and they had me captured. They took my things, hence why I'm not wearing any armor or clothing and lacking in weapons, and were planning on torturing me for amusement. They don't like ghouls anymore than they like other ponies. I need help recovering my things from them and taking them out, and well you were the only pony around."

I was furious. The very idea that such ponies could exist disgusted me, even more so than the pony who killed his own brother for being "weak and broken". The fact that ponies, in a place that already appeared to be extremely harsh would turn to pillaging, and looting, and raping of other ponies, and torture them for fun made me see red. I was blinded by rage, a very bad thing for a pony in the wastes, especially a new one like myself.

"I'll kill the bastards who would do such things to other ponies." I said, obvious malice in my voice.

"Really?" He said, eyes lighting up with delight. "But wait, aren't you new to the wastes? Do you even know how to shoot that thing?"

He said the last bit gesturing at my battle saddle. I realized he was right, and went to respond, but before I could even answer he cut me off.

"No matter!" He said cheerily. "I would appreciate the help greatly anyway! And perhaps I could find some way to repay you in the future?"

Taking a moment to think about it, I slowly extended my hoof. I knew I should do it, but he did make me doubt myself. I thought of the terrible things he described and decided it would be for the best.

"It's a deal." I said, albeit reluctantly, and he took my hoof and shook vigorously.

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *

I woke up early in the morning, and started to get ready. I ate my breakfast as we went over our plan one last time, a nervous wreck the entire time as I relaized I had made a terrible decision.

I was afraid for my life, feeling completely unprepared, as I had stopped seeing red and started thinking rationally. His comment cut me down and me think about my inexperience. I mean sure, I survived one fight, but that was hoof to hoof, and only because I was lucky. The pony  I was fighting was blinded by rage, like I was last night after hearing by the raiders. It  seemed like anger only made situations worse for the mad pony. Better to keep your head clear.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized my acceptance was stupid. I didn't even know how to shoot, at least not very well. My father had taken me out to a shooting range once, and I was horrible at it. I assumed S.A.T.S. would account for my terrible gun playing abilities and lack of experience, or at least I hoped it would.

And as much as I realized this was a bad idea, and I didn't want to be shot or in a live fire situation I felt like it would be a crime to not help. Leaving a pony to struggle out here would be terrible. Not helping the struggling ponies down here would make me like the Enclave, and I wouldn't allow myself to be one of them again.

Our plan was simple, and the more I thought about it now that I was fully myself the more I doubted it. Charming assured me it was good, or least good enough, but I just wasn't sure anymore. The night before I was stupid and tired, and I knew that would be my downfall.

The plan was once we got near the base I would pick up Charming and fly him up to the roof of the building the raiders had made their base camp. I would proceed to give him one of the two pistols I had packed in my saddlebags, just in case he came into any resistance along his way. He would go in through the roof access on the building, and quickly get to his stolen items wherever they were stashed.

This is where the plan gets stupid, and my blind rage starts to show. While he is doing all of that I would go straight up to the front gate and attack the raiders, and most likely end up in a large shoot out. After getting all of his equipment, he would proceed to flank them with his own weapons and armor in his hooves, and we would take out the remaining raiders together, however many that was. After I finished helping him he promised that he would guide me to New Appaloosa in exchange, and either stay with me on my journeys, or go our separate ways.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how stupid it was. Absolutely stupid.

We travelled towards the raider base, a journey that was around an hour long by hoof. I would have flown, but I didn't feel like carrying Charming all the way there, and I didn't think I would have been able too anyway. So instead we walked, and talked on the way there which made me happy. I was glad to finally be able to have a full conversation with somepony after my two days of only having DJ Pon3 as a companion, if I could even call him that. He was just a voice on the radio after all, and I would most likely never meet him.

So instead of silently listening to music I spent the hour long journey talking to Charming, and asking about his story. He seemed to not want to tell about his past too much, and I got the idea that it was a sensitive area. (Which, in theory, made sense considering that everypony he knew was most likely dead.) The only thing he let me know was that he was on official business for one of the ministry mares when the mega spells struck, and that's how he became a ghoul. He than told me that he had spent the past two hundred years since exploring the wasteland and helping ponies, like some kind of zombie vigilante. Exactly like that actually, no details, giving me the idea he wanted to stay mysterious.

I remained unsatisfied about how little he told me about his past, but I felt it would be rude to pry. For the remaining time traveling I told him a little bit about myself at his asking, and about how I had tricked the Enclave into thinking I would do their bidding as a guise to let me escape easier. He seemed to be happy with my abandonment of the Enclave, and told me of how he had met several Dashite's throughout his lifetime since the Great War, and had learned of the Enclave basically being terrible. Which, as I had recently learned, was kind of true.

After hearing of the Dashite's he had met I asked him of the chance that he knew of Calamity, just on a whim. I had left that part out on the reason why I left, and at his inquiry about why I wanted to know, I told him what it was. I didn't expect anything to come of it, but to my surprise he did know him!

Apparently Calamity dropped by around New Appaloosa occasionally, protecting caravans from raiders, and helping innocent ponies all around the area. Protecting the innocent and being a hero exactly how I had imagined.

This information made me extremely excited, and I was definitely prepared to head to New Appaloosa, as it might allow me to draw an end to my quest early. Of course I wouldn't kill him, but I would achieve my goal of meeting him, and that's all I wanted in my life, at least at this time.

I spent the rest of the trip talking about how I wanted to meet him, and that he was an inspiration to me (being a bit of a fanfilly honestly). Soon the raider base came into view, and I immediately quieted myself. A small building stood in front of us, and it appeared to have been at one point a small road stop which was now their base.

The very sight of the base horrified me.

Entrails and pieces of dead pony were strewn across the entrance, as if some psychopathic decorator thought it would be a pretty design choice for their new home. Blood and graffiti smeared the walls of the place, and I knew the inside would not look any better. I could almost smell it just by looking, and it made me sick. Sicker than my fight last night. I almost threw up again.

I looked over at Charming, and he simply nodded to me in understanding as if he knew what I was going through after seeing such a sight for the first time. He then moved closer towards me, and gestured at my bags as if to tell me to begin. I nodded back, and gave him one of my pistols along with several clips of ammo before I picked him up and landed on the roof.

"Now remember," He whispered to me. "stick to the plan okay? They should only have around ten ponies in this place, so you shouldn't have to much trouble if you know how to use that battle saddle of yours at all. I'll go in, get my things, and then help you by flanking."

I tried to protest, tell him that I actually didn't know how to use this battle saddle, but before I could even say a word he shooed me off before running into the building through the roof access, forcing me to assume my position.

I moved into position behind cover, a decent bit away from the building, but not too far away as to have to snipe at the ponies. I took in the sights of all the raiders, and noticed there were around ten of them. Ten was too many for me honestly, and I only grew more afraid.

This is stupid, this is so stupid. Why would I let myself do this? I will never let myself be guided by rage again, sweet Celestia let me live through this please!

I began to panic more and more as I realized how stupid my decision was, and through my panic decided to start trying to take aim with my battle saddle. I figured focusing on the task at hand would push the panic back, and I struggled to get a good view on the first raider pony so I could at least try to carry out the plan. After a decent bit of struggling on getting the weapon aimed at him properly, I finally had it on him, but was having immense amounts of trouble at keeping it steady on him for a clear shot. I started to panic more and more as I realized just how inexperienced I was.

By the High Council please just let me live through this!

After around another minute of frustration I finally decided to give in and activate S.A.T.S. with hope that the targeting spell would allow me to hit him. The second I activated the spell it immediately came to life, and locked right onto him, in his most easy to hit and damaging spot, which was currently his head. Even at the decent but of range I was away my battle saddle auto swiveled to the pony I wanted to hit, and locked on. I checked the Pip-Buck once more to make sure it was in him, and it informed me I had a ninety percent chance of hitting him. Practically all I'd have to do was to bite down on the trigger to take him out. Hardly any of my own aiming skill was required, and even a terrible shooter such as myself couldn't miss.

I finally felt my heart rate slowing down as I put all my focus onto keeping myself aimed on him. I felt my panic residing as I realized that I was going to be able to use S.A.T.S. to live through this. I slowly closed my mouth down around the trigger, and gently activated the battle saddle. Immediately it sprang into action, the two hunting rifles in Soarin's Revenge at my sides going off with a loud bang as they simultaneously fired at him, going straight for the head. I waited in anticipation for it to hit, knowing that the second his head burst open a full firefight would begin.

Everything seemed to slow down as the bullets went straight for his head, the fear that I would miss filling me with adrenaline, making all my senses seem more acute.

I intently watched the bullets as they went towards him, and prepared to close my eyes to look away from the blood splatter, and they were just about to reach his head and-

They missed.

The shots both missed completely, going straight past him and hitting the wall next to him with a rather loud and odd sound as it smacked into the building. The raider, clearly shocked by the sudden sound from the saddle immediately started to shout something to get other raiders' attention.

Slowly but surely many of the raiders in the camp turned to my direction, and I knew there was no way for me to do anything but fight. The raiders quickly pulled out their weapons, and they sprang to life as a hail of bullets found their way towards me.

I jumped away and took cover, trying not to be shot as bullets smacked around the ground where I had just been standing. I had missed my first shot, and not even S.A.T.S. could help me.

And now an entire camp full of angry sadists was coming after me.