Fallout Equestria: Honest Lies

Fallout Equestria:Honest Lies

Prologue

“Do I hate what I’m good at? That sounds just too pretentious.”

Two hundred years and the world around those lucky enough to have been raised in the sky isn’t as peachy keen as one might believe, though, if I am to believe the tales of the dingy world below and all of its radioactive horrors, it’s a might better.  Up here, the food is bland, the berries-if you can call them that-taste like well worn leather, sprinkled in…SOMETHING bitter. There is more than enough political tension in the clouds that sometimes, it seems like the war from two hundred years ago has done nothing but slide into a Cold state.  That is the stark truth about the territory of the Grand Pegasus Enclave.

The denizens themselves?  Just as bland and bitter.  Some of them work towards faux advancement while they study in Thunderhead, a mix between healthy learning and unhealthy propaganda.  Some of them blindly plod forward without the need of any kind of propaganda, mainly military ponies, part of the Neighvarro war machine through and through.  The rest of them are the worst.  The plebeian pegasi that wander about aimlessly through life, the unicorns that have to always live in the binds of their cloud walking spells, they all have no purpose in life.

Then you have me.  I am part of the Enclave Black Ops Special Task Force.  I don’t tell others my real name, just my code name, Punch Drunk.  I always had a knack for talking and acting.  It makes me an excellent spy.  Usually you can find me at any bar if you look hard enough.  It might seem like nothing matters to me, but I am very driven.  I am driven by one goal, and that is the safety of a pony that is very special to me.  Personally I never cared for the business, but when you’re good at something, you get noticed.

I was used to being noticed.  I didn’t think much of how I looked, but apparently a fair amount of the bar colts did.  I am a far descendant of some lush named Berry Punch.  I only know this because in Black Ops they make you trace your genealogy to see if there is more greatness in you, the only ‘greatness’ I got was a pink coat, a lumpy purple mane and tail, and the apparent ability to hold booze well… though i was still unsure how i ended up a pegasi from a linage of earth ponies and unicorns...

Being noticed also caused my problems however, I was good at being sneaky, I was a great liar, and I could handle myself well.  I was the perfect mix of skills and not giving a damn about the general populace for Black Ops.  This meant I would be asked to aid in the government’s shadowy civil wars and the like. I didn’t much care for it, but I had no choice.

When I first joined Black Ops, I was chosen by my supervisor, a unicorn named Lighthooves.  I doubted that was his name, but like the rest of us, he preferred code names.  He bothered me.  Most of the time it was a pain because I could never tell if he was lying or telling the truth, must be what it was like for others to listen to me. He gave me a small magical energy weapon (if you could call it a weapon, it hurt about as much as a light bruise) and told me he’d give me my own team if I could ever catch him off guard enough to hit him with it, I still haven’t…today I am going to fix that.

Footnote: level up: Power Armor Training. You are able to understand and operate power armor possessing any kind of spell matrix.