The Courier's Journal

by RF and AG

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Gore, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Princess Luna, Other
Length: 26534

Luna reminisces over a lost friend by reading his journal. A Fallout Crossover

It is by acts, and not ideas that people live - Anatole France

A year has passed since one of Luna's dear friends left their temporary home in Canterlot in order to seek out some sort of finality to their life. Yet in the absence, a journal was left to allow the memory and accomplishments of said individual to continue on. So in remembrance of her friend, Luna has partaken in reading the journal again, to relive the life of the most unique individual in Equestria. Yet by re-reading the journal, she has stirred thoughts and memories that have done nothing but burden her.

Even in absence, the Courier continues to blaze a trail through people's lives, only now it is through his journal.

A Fallout/MLP crossover written in the style of a journal inter mixed with moments from the present.

Cover art by: Philichez also found at PhiliChez - DA

Edited by AuthorGenesis, and Philichez.
Pre-read/Edited by Word Worthy, and Eagle

Published 2015-03-22 22:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-03 19:44:06 UTC

Chapter 1

 “Luna?” Celestia called out as she wandered the halls of Canterlot Castle. Normally she wouldn’t need to search for her sister like this but Luna had up and disappeared after supper. Despite being back for four years now, Luna had kept a rather strict schedule that never deviated from what was set, and Celestia knew that schedule all too well.

First she would eat supper with Celestia, which was actually Luna’s breakfast, before making her way to the Canterlot Archives in order to catch up on some reading. Shortly after her reading time was over, Luna would sit in for Night Court which thankfully had become much more popular amongst regular ponies. It was good to see her sister finally getting some attention, her hard work finally appreciated.

Once done with Night Court, she would grab a bite to eat before making her way to the Royal Observatory so she could view the sky and the lands. During this time she would dreamwalk with ponies in order to keep them safe from nightmares, though her job was much more relaxed then it used to be all those years ago.

Finally, Luna would have breakfast with Celestia before going back to her room to either catch up on sleep or bills, depending on whose turn it was. Sleep was for the weak Luna had once said, and she was right when it came to Alicorns. They didn’t need sleep per say, but it was a nice thing to have every once and awhile, so instead the sisters had a system. Each one would stay up for a full day and a half before getting their sleep. Luna wanted to sleep during the day but Celestia had convinced her to sleep at night on her off day. She could always perform her dreamwalking while asleep, so Luna accepted at Celestia’s pleading. That also meant that Night Court was held every other night, which was fine by Luna, since she sometimes filled in for Celestia during Day Court. When it wasn’t their night to sleep then they would catch up on paperwork, though Luna would do hers during the day.

Tonight was Luna’s Night Court and Celestia’s bill day.

“Luna?” Celestia shouted again, though this time she was poking her head through the doors to the observatory. She had already checked the Library out, and the throne room, so the observatory was the only real place left to look.

Yet no answer came.

Celestia’s brow furrowed at the thought of not being able to find her sister. It had never been this tough to find her, even before she was banished. They had stuck together nearly all the time when they were fillies, and even when Luna became distant it was easy for Celestia to find her. Hide and seek was hardly a game for them, because no matter how much they tried to find a good hiding spot, the other would not only find them quick, but they would always be somewhat near by. They were more inseparable than anypony could even imagine.

“Luna?” Celestia called out once more as she walked down the hallways.

“In here, sister!” came the muffled call back. Celestia whipped her head in the direction that she heard Luna call from. At first glance all Celestia saw was just a room with a door open slightly, but then she noticed one painstakingly obvious detail. She was standing in front of Luna’s room which was made obvious by the two guards looking at her with their stoic faces. Celestia brought a hoof up to her face, placing it on her forehead as she chuckled slightly. Of course she had neglected to check her sister’s room.

“What are you doing in here, Luna? I would have thought to find you in the library,” Celestia said as she walked calmly into her sister’s room.

The room itself was nothing overly special, which was how her sister preferred it. Though that didn’t mean there weren’t things that made it stand out. If one were to walk into the room while Luna wasn’t there, they would feel a stillness about the air that seemed to permeate each corner, from the book filled shelves, to the mahogany dresser and desk. Of course, that didn’t mean that Luna didn’t have her own personal touch to the room, in fact it meant the opposite.

While other rooms were adorned with rather bright colours on a constant basis, Luna had crafted an illusion spell that constantly had the colours of the room shifting hues. In one moment, the large, drapery and self stylized sheets adorned, bed would take on a near purple tone just like every other aspect of the room, even the glass door to the balcony. Yet you could turn your head to look at something for a single moment and find that the room had shifted to something more befitting of the title maroon. Of course on more than one occasion, Celestia had found Luna sitting in front of a green hued desk instead of the natural mahogany colour.

Tonight, Luna’s spell had decided to be a blue that almost mirrored Luna’s coat.

“Well I was going to finish reading Thaumagical Theories Revolving Around Developing Ley Lines by your student, but I guess there was another book that pulled my attention more,” Luna said, not bothering to look up at her sister from her spot on the bed.

This of course perked Celestia’s interest as usually Luna didn’t get this caught up in a book. Even in her deepest of studies, she would always make time to give her older sister a hug. So what was it that had her attention so much. Celestia decided to skip asking her sister, instead moving to the bedside before pulling herself up on it.

She scooted over a few times until her side was pressing right against her sister’s, it wasn’t too often that they got to cuddle like they used to when they were young.

“So what has my little sister so-” she cut off her words as she was able to see explicitly what her sister was reading. “You’re reading it again, Luna?”

“Indeed, he was a good friend to us so I try to read it as much as possible, ‘Tia,” Luna said with a smile across her muzzle. She truly enjoyed reading the book, no matter what was said in the contents, it always reminded her of one of her recent friends. Perhaps the closest friend as well ...

“It’s been over a year now, hasn't it?” Celestia asked, her head coming to rest against her sister’s.

“Indeed it has. I figured I would read it again in memory, especially since he never came back,” Luna said, her smile faltering slightly. It was a tough thing to think of, but it wasn’t something entirely new. For this day and age it might be considered barbaric, but back when the nation was only beginning to be founded, the idea was common.

“I would never have thought you one to believe he died,” Celestia inquired.

“I’m not sure, ‘Tia. He wanted to ‘go out in a blaze of glory’ as he put it. He could still be out there, but the Unclaimed Lands are hardly a nice place,” Luna replied.

There was only silence after that, allowing Luna to once again focus back on the book. Celestia, having nothing better to do at the moment, decided to indulge the quality time with her sister and follow along with what was currently on the page. Not matter how much her sister tried, she could never read faster than Celestia, but Celestia would often wait for Luna to finish when they both read the same book.

Journal 1

House

        Robert House.

Robert House is dead.

I killed him in that tube of his and gave him a quick death. The man that saved Vegas, built New Vegas, and claimed the city had died by the barrel of my gun.

I could have left him to rot slowly out of that tube, that thing that kept him alive. He would breath the dirty air of this world, the air we had all be born into to while he had only been fed pure air. He would have died a slow and painful death, racked with the ‘impurities’ that this world carried. A death no man should be allowed to endure.

Yet a death that only he deserved.

Pity, perhaps? Perhaps I was being soft on him, showing a side that I didn’t all too often show. Giving someone the ability to no longer feel pain, such a blessing that few get to feel.

I followed up with Yes Man, the only thing left to allow me to let New Vegas be free. Well, the only thing left on this side of the river. He said that all I needed to do was upgrade the Securitrons. It would be the final part of the plan, he said. In time, I said.

There were still things to do.

The Houses on the strip were all secure and allied to my cause, Primm and Goodsprings were independent once more and the Followers and the Kings were rebuilding Freeside. It would appear that all would soon be fine among the Mojave.

There is only one thing left to do, something that would change our world forever.

        Caesar needs to die.

        That … that would be part of the endgame. The final part of the puzzle that needed to be finished. Not yet, though. It is not his time to die yet, for when he dies, the bull will roar and charge.

        By my hand, Caesar will meet his fate. By my hand, the Legion will fall and crumble to dust. By my hand, the Mojave will be free.

        I had to keep telling myself to wait, to tie up the loose ends before I committed myself to his destruction.

        A few drunk soldiers on the strip mentioned a caravan going north to a valley. There are supposedly people up there that are in need of supplies. Normally, I wouldn’t have been interested in what a caravan was doing, but another name got mentioned amongst the talk; The Burned Man. I’d heard the stories, much like anyone else that knew of the Legion. A former Legate, made example of by Caesar after losing the first battle at Hoover Dam, burned to a crisp as he was tossed into the Grand Canyon.

Rumours of his survival were nothing new, but to hear that he might actually be real is something that needs to be checked out.

In the morning, I will make my way to the Caravan’s camp and ask to join. If they know who I am then they will accept, if not … I need to be apart of that caravan.

Journal 2

Zion Canyon

A beautiful canyon no matter how much blood was spilled; that was what Zion is. If one could overlook the constant fighting against others and the wildlife, one could almost find peace among the scenery.

If only that was how my first introduction to Zion Canyon went. The Happy Trails Caravan was ambushed shortly after entering the canyon. It was … a massacre, to say the least, but it was not on one side or the other. The entire caravan crew, minus me, died at the hands of these tribals. They were paid in kind with their deaths being at the hands of my rifle.

It was almost laughable to see what they were using when compared to my All-American. Double barrel, sawed off shotguns, and simple bolt action hunting rifles were barely anything. Not to mention that they had no form of body armor.

It was humorous to see such pitiful fighters.

Forging my way into the canyon was easy, if not tiring, due to the steep hills and constant issue of loose rocks, but at least I found someone to guide me through the easier paths. Follows-Chalk is his name, barely looks eighteen yet he constantly speaks of being a great fighter and scout. I have to admire his can-do type of attitude, even if he is rather naive about the world around him. He actually reminds me a little bit of Veronica, though she actually had experience in the world.

One thing that was nice about having him around though, was minor insight into the surroundings. It helped to give me some background to the place, as well as get my bearings. Kid might turn into a good hunter one day, just needs to ditch the pistol and pick up a nice rifle.

Follows-Chalk led me to the Dead Horse’s camp. Dead Horses … terrifying for a name if you don’t have any decent upbringing, and by that, I meant you weren’t taught how to use a gun. Either way, it was nice to see that they weren’t explicitly hostile to me, but I think Follows-Chalk has something to do with that.

They treated me with some kind of reverence at first, looking at me as though I was a ghost who had just walked into their camp. It slowly died down as I gave them a few smiles to try and calm them down, which to my surprise worked better than I thought it would. Perhaps they were more tribal than I thought they would be.

Though I hardly cared about that after they took me to their leader, or ‘War Chief’ as they said. It was a little surprising, but The Burned Man wasn’t as intimidating as the stories made him out to be. Sure he was wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages, minus the eye, nose, and mouth areas. You would think that because you couldn’t read his face very well, his intimidation game would be excellent. It wasn’t.

Instead, it would seem that Graham became a man of thought and perspective. His ideas and beliefs were not something that I explicitly shared all the time, but he brought up good points. Surprisingly valid points.

I actually enjoyed talking to someone who could hold a deep conversation for more than a few minutes. though he often touched too hard on the side of ‘God.’ I respect beliefs, within reason, but the idea of spreading their thoughts around in order to ‘save their souls’ was not something I wanted to talk to him about.

Oh, and get this, he apparently hates the Legion! As well as feels guilt at his actions, something that I would not have expected of Caesar’s first Legate. He resents a lot of what they did, even to the point of telling me that they were never the side of good. Perhaps he found a new side of himself, or maybe enough failed assassins convinced him that the Legion was bad. I have no right to judge.

On the flip side, he actually believes the NCR is redeemable, though I don’t share too much of that belief. People under the NCR rule are redeemable, the society that they created is not. Corruption and greed are what they bleed, not blood like the rest. Cut the head off the snake, and it is said to die. Cut the head off the NCR and it will only grow two more.

We talked a little about the situation of the place, and it would seem that Graham had somehow heard of my … abilities. He needs me to help his people gather some stuff to prepare for an upcoming war.

I used to be a courier, but that doesn’t mean I like being one now. I bargained shelter and trade in exchange of services. He agreed and had one of the tribals show me my space.

Tomorrow, tomorrow I will get my bearings and perhaps help Joshua.

Journal 3

Zion Canyon - Day Four

Four days, four days since I entered this forsaken canyon. It only took four days for my views of this place to completely flip. Optimism and wonder was replaced by a cold hard demeanour and maybe a little bit of sorrow.

In helping Joshua and the Dead Horse tribe, I found another peaceful group called The Sorrows. Another tribe with more problems that they couldn’t handle on their own. I wouldn’t really blame them, though, the White Legs, which was the hostile tribe, terrorized them constantly with slightly more advanced weapons. It seemed to be a constant struggle for areas and resources among the tribes. The Dead Horses lead by Joshua and the Sorrow lead by a man named Daniel, together they could probably wipe out the White Legs, but their different views clashed.

The whole situation was fucked and it seemed that without a doubt, the White Legs were a bunch of evil assholes. Every Time I talked to Daniel, Joshua, or Follows-Chalk I found out more about the past. They would talk about where they were from, and all that stuff while I just listened mainly. In the end, I found out three things, the Dead Horse tribe was only there to help The Sorrows. The White Legs invaded here just to try and join the Legion, and finally, the Sorrows were actually the original settlers from before any of us had lived.

I didn’t find out that last part by talking to Daniel or the rest, instead I read it from a bunch of journals. See, I found a series of caves during those four days I spent running around. It was interesting to say the least, there were terminals, old digital entries among the stashes in the caves. They were written by a single man, Randall Clark, and boy did they tell of a grim past.

No matter how much the man tried to make it sound like he had done something evil, I would have shook his hand had I met him. Spared the pain of an old couple, claimed vengeance on a bunch of Vault fuckers, and essentially raised a group of children to become self sufficient. The man was a role model and deserved to be respected like one.

I ended up finding his body up by two massive red rocks that the natives called The Red Gate. All that was left was a skeleton, but I buried it. Even found the wood to make a makeshift cross to carve his name into and hang his weapon on. I took the armor though, I was always looking for a set of Ranger Armor.

At one point, while helping Daniel, I was given a guide from the Sorrows. A woman named Walking Cloud … nice gal, but she has scars that lay below the surface. Maybe tomorrow I could pry something out of her and help, I already know the issue thanks to Daniel, but that doesn’t solve the problem. Normally I don’t do such small things like this to those who aren’t close, but I can sympathise with losing a close one.

Yesterday, I found myself wondering just how much death this canyon faces everyday. I was up in one of the watchtowers overlooking the valley, having a nice break while listening to Follows-Chalk. He kept going on about the lands beyond Zion, probably New Vegas, as though it was the ultimate haven. As he kept rambling on, I watched a two man scout team of White Legs wander along a trail. I was tempted to put a round in one of them with my sniper rifle, but it wasn’t necessary.

The first one stepped on a mine, shearing both of his legs off. It happened so fast that the other was frozen in place for nearly a full minute before he tried to help. Even if he had reacted sooner, the native would still have bled out. The pained screams were probably ear piercing to the unharmed White Leg, but from the distance it sounded more like a muffled cry. Poor bastard, wasn’t even given a quick death.

Call me cold, but I left them alone. One died while the other would be fine physically; mentally, not so much. There are people who deserve it, and I had made up my mind days ago when the Caravan was hit. These savages deserved it.

I didn’t really feel anything when I watched that scene, maybe I had seen too much to be phased now. From one area filled with death to another, I’m just glad I’ve gotten used to it after all of these years. Though I think, one day I will look back and find a lot of regrets, and reasons to have done something different. Now is not that day.

One last thing to note; as I write this from the Sorrow’s camp, I know something big is coming, but as to what exactly, I have no idea.

Journal 4

Leaving the Canyon

Looking back on my previous entry, I’m amazed I only had a vague idea as to what was going to happen. It actually should have been extremely clear to me, what with all the fetch this and fetch that jobs. They were preparing for something, exodus or war; spilling some blood, or spilling lots of blood.

I’ve given into the fact that I’m almost always thrown into situations that call for me to make the final decision. Honestly, I had no idea I would wield such influence or that I would always be asked to make the difficult decisions. Would they haunt me in the end? Maybe, if I let my consciousness get the better of me and given the time to dwell on possible mistakes. Maybe on my slow hike back I would succumb to such guilt, but I doubt it. I made the right choice.

Flee the canyon, or finally claim it as part of a united force? The answer should have been clear to Joshua and Daniel a long time ago. To flee would show weakness and allow the White Legs to grow, expand, and threaten. Crush them here, destroy them and make an example that they own the valleys. It sounds cruel, but that is the way of the wasteland.

It was … surprisingly less bloody than I thought it would be. A fair amount of White Legs died, while minimal casualties were taken by the Dead Horse and Sorrows tribes. A quick decisive battle, just as I liked it.

Joshua and I led the charge mainly, spearheading the group through the Canyon and towards the White Legs camp. A tribe of warriors … nothing compared to what Joshua and I have been through. Swift work was made of any resistance, and only through blocking our initial path, did they stall their inevitable end.

We tracked down the leader of the White Legs, a man whose name I didn’t give a rats ass about. Sure it was said many times over, but to me, he didn’t deserve a name. No, he deserved much less than that.

You know, it was something to see, a man on his knees and begging for us to let him live. I’ve seen it before, and no doubt Joshua had, but it was another thing to see the hatred that burned in Joshua’s eyes. To see him nearly forgo his beliefs in order to exact revenge, it left a bad feeling in my gut. Bad enough for me to forcibly lower his gun.

Why had I lowered his gun and denied his revenge? I can’t even explain what came through me when I did that, it just felt … wrong. When Joshua asked me then and there to explain why I did it, I just bullshitted my way through it. Told him that such a tribe probably held their fighting skills and combat above everything. To deny their leader a death in combat would be just as crippling as killing him.

As I said, complete bullshit.

We walked away, spared the tribe with only the punishment of exile, and thus bringing peace to the Canyon at last. Finally, in such a beautiful place, one could actually take in the scenery of the area and not be frightened of being killed in the middle of a war.

I made sure to leave immediately. No goodbyes or anything before I made my way back to the route I came to Zion from. I don’t need to be tied to another place of death and sorrow. Whatever happens to the natives of Zion is out of my control and past my point of caring. Joshua and Daniel can handle it from there, I would just muddy the water.

The trek back to the Mojave is infinitely tougher than the one going to Zion. The lack of others and an actual supply caravan make it tough to go too long without finding a place to stock up along the way. It makes me miss Rex more than a little; that dog’s nose was a godsend. I’m not worried though, I’ve been through worse, and I still have hell to walk through before I can finally rest.

I refuse to let the mundane kill me.

Chapter 2

Luna slowly closed the cover of the leather bound book, letting it lie on the mattress of her bed as her magic slowly faded from around the book. She stood on her hooves briefly before hopping off the bed so she could stretch her legs and back. Her sister and her had been reading the book for far too long.

“I suppose it is time for you to go to court?” Celestia inquired as she too moved off the bed.

        “Indeed. Though there are times I wish it would be empty once again,” Luna replied before poking her tongue out at her sister. This earned a small giggle from Celestia as they both moved through the doorway and into the halls.

“Well, I must leave you, Luna. Those bills are not going to reject themselves,” Celestia said as she began to stride the opposite way of the throne room.

“Perhaps burning them will be quicker!” Luna called back with a smirk on her face.

There was only a light laugh as a response, which was enough for Luna as she continued to stride to the throne room. She had been flickering her eyes to the clock in her room the entire time, making sure to know exactly when they needed to stop reading. She liked to keep a rather meticulous schedule when it came to her duties, ensuring that they were done to the letter.

In fact, it surprised Luna that Twilight was more akin to her than her sister. Celestia was much easier going in all aspects and liked the fluidity that her schedule allowed. no exact times but general areas in which she should aim for. it was amazing that Celestia has somehow been able to run the country while Luna was banished.

As Luna made her way down the halls of the Castle, her mind returned to the journal that they had been reading. Her thoughts glossed over the book itself and focused more on the ‘person’ who had written the book. He was a stranger to the world, never having even seen a pony prior to his arrival just over a year ago.

He didn’t really speak much about his background, but Luna always felt this kinship when she was around him. It was as if they had both endured so much, coupled with a nearly endless well of pain, and yet this still trudged on together. She had tried on multiple occasions to open him up, even talking about her past, but he never spoke a word about it.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t speak about where he was from or some of the things that occurred there, with a distinct lack of his involvement, mind you. He in fact, was rather generous and open when it came to talking about his world, especially when Twilight brought her endless list of questions to him.

The eight hooves tall man, or what he called six foot one, was more like a minotaur then the primates that he said his entire race evolved from. Though he was much leaner than the minotaurs, making his body look like it was built for something faster instead of powerful. The way he moved when he trained with the guard was graceful, agile, and stunning to watch. He couldn’t run like a pony could, but he didn’t need to … he showed that he could fend off anyone. Luna blushed when she thought of him working out and showing off, and she had to shake her head a little violently to clear her thoughts. To say that she didn’t find him oddly attractive would be a lie to span the centuries, but even if she had wanted to act on it, it was too late now.

Still she remembered the short black haired, fully bearded, and scarred man with great fondness. Luna had told Celestia that she felt compelled to read the journal tonight, but that wasn’t the full truth. She had in fact been reading it whenever she got the chance to. Yet she would always ask herself why she was reading it.

The journal wouldn’t bring him back, nor did it give her a picture of him to admire. Perhaps it was a spark of hope that he would one day return, having faced certain death. Luna’s face lit up in a smile at that thought. It would be an oh so, joyous day if he were to suddenly march down the street of Canterlot, weapons slung over his shoulder, clothes slightly tattered as to show his hardships. She would rush him the moment she saw him, leaping at him as a lover would to their long lost mate. The thought of such a thing happening overpowered her and forced her hindquarters to the ground as she imagined herself hugging him tightly with all of her might.

Yet she knew it was not likely to happen, and with a small sigh escaping her lips, she rose back to her hooves and continued her way to the throne. Perhaps tomorrow she would entice Celestia to continue reading with her.

Even though it was her sister, Luna still liked to feel a warm body next to her as she read.

The night had been a little exhausting for Luna, but in a good way. Night Court had gone well as it usually went, the ponies who actually came before Luna often had a preconceived notion that she would not tolerate any sort of deceit and foolishness. If only they knew that she used to be the prankster between the sisters. Perhaps one court night, she would show them that she wasn’t a complete stick in the mud.

Luna hummed a tune she remembered from her childhood as she made her way down the halls and towards the Royal Dining room. A stray thought crept into her mind; why were most of the rooms in the castle called that? They were all preceded by the word ‘Royal’ as if it added a big significance to the meaning. It was a trivial thing in her opinion, but if it meant something to somepony, then who was she to deny the desires of her citizens.

It only took Luna a few more minutes of trodding down the halls to find the dining room. Celestia was already there, ready for the day to begin, which it already had. Celestia had made it mandatory for them to be together when Luna rose the moon, just so her sister and her could spend sometime together, yet Celestia would hear none of it when Luna offered to be there when she rose the sun. Luna merely shook her head at her sister’s quirks.

“How went the night, ‘Tia?” Luna said as she trotted over to her seat across from her sister. Whenever they had a meal alone, neither of them would take the head of the table. It was to show that they were equal, or so the rumour went. In reality they did this, because both of them ended up with minor kinks in their necks one day after having to keep their heads turned to face each other. Neither of the sisters bothered to correct the rumour, instead letting it spill out into the country.

“Not a single bill passed,” Celestia said as she sipped on a cup of coffee. Despite what ponies said, she always preferred the black stuff over tea. Not to say she didn’t like tea, she just enjoyed coffee more.

“Really?” Luna asked as she called over a waitress to order her meal, “Jasmine tea and a salad, please.”

“Indeed, though I think I know why,” Celestia said before taking another sip. “It would seem that the Duke of Bismarech has been kissing more flank than usual.”

‘“Tia! How could you say that about the Duke!” Luna said behind a hoof that hardly concealed her smile. Luna personally enjoyed it when her sister would cuss or say something that wasn’t exactly standard to the title of Princess. It reminded her of a simpler time, when they weren’t ruling a country.

Celestia let a little giggle out before switching the conversation away from herself and onto Luna. “How did the night go after I left?”

“It was more typical than anything,” Luna said as the waitress brought her salad and tea. “Thank you. Anyway, there wasn’t anything outstanding with the petitions, merely concerned ponies with personal problems. Dreamwalking went smoothly, in fact, too smoothly. There wasn’t a single nightmare last night.”

Celestia could see the small pout that Luna’s lips had formed, and it was adorable. She merely smiled at Luna, knowing full well that Luna always wanted to her help her citizens and when she didn’t need to, Luna acted as though she had been left out of something important.

Luna’s pout quickly disappeared though, as she began to dig into her salad with vigor. Sometimes it amazed Celestia that her sister didn’t bend any cutlery when she attacked her food. Celestia had always been the more dainty eater, preferring to take her time and instead chat with her dinner guests if she had any. Luna acted more like a famished pony, digging into her meal quickly and finishing just as fast.

So fast sometimes, that Celestia had to merely follow a small train of thought to occupy her time until Luna was finished. This happened to be one of those times. In the space of time it took Celestia to think about their eating habits, Luna had finished that salad and her tea.

“It amazes me everytime I see you eat, Luna. Somehow you manage to fit your entire meal into your mouth in one go.”

“Don’t act as though you don’t like larger things in your mouth,” Luna quickly responded, blowing a raspberry at her sister. This caused Celestia to chuckle in response, even though her cheeks burned red at the comment. Despite the embarrassment, Celestia was glad that her sister made comments like that, for it meant that Luna was acting more like her old self.

That was something that Celestia would give the world for.

Both of them sat in silence and just basked in the calm ambience of the room. Sometimes neither of them needed to talk to understand one another, and this was one of those moments. In the end though, the moment had to close out. They couldn’t just sit there forever as one had Royal Duties to do while the other got to sleep. When it was mutually, yet silently, agreed that it was time to part ways, they both rose from their seats and proceeded to the door.

“Have a good day, Luna,” Celestia said before wrapping a foreleg around Luna’s neck. The smaller princess embraced the hug and returned it in kind.

“I will, sis, oh and don’t expect me for dinner. There was a large amount of paperwork on my desk last time I checked,” Luna said before opening the door and trotting down the hallway to her left. At first, Celestia thought it a little odd for Luna to leave so quickly as well as decide to skip dinner like that, especially since Luna hated paperwork. Though perhaps Luna was really looking forward to having a nice long sleep, which she could get started early on if she finished that large amount of paperwork.

In reality, Celestia had no idea what Luna was actually planning on doing. It wasn’t anything devious, conniving, or even evil. No, Luna just didn’t want to sleep tonight while she was only part way through her reading.

Despite having read the book cover to cover multiple times, she always got so engrossed in his thoughts and observations. He wasn’t a skilled storyteller mind you, but nevertheless, Luna enjoyed reading what he wrote more than most other books. Luna, of course, knew why she felt that way for him and if it were ever brought up, she would deny if furiously. Yet in the end, she had to accept it; she loved him.

She loved him enough to endure a full day of paperwork just to read his journal.

The day flew by so quickly for Luna, with all of the paperwork making it seem like she had just sat down. A meal was brought to her which she hardly remembered eating, but the empty plate said otherwise. As the clock in her rather empty study struck seven, which caused Luna to violently blink a few times before she realised that the latest piece of paperwork was just an empty piece of paper that now had her signature on. In the back of her mind this caused a few alarm bells of worry, but she quickly dismissed them. She had simply just been too focused, as was often the case when your study had only a desk in the center, a chain in front, and a single clock.

So when Luna finally reached her room, after narrowly avoiding multiple ponies that were looking to chat, she closed the door firmly before nearly throwing herself on top of her bed so that she could read more. Her entire self was exhausted, but she had to keep reading.

A quick use of her magic, and all natural and foreign light sources were extinguished, so to give the illusion of her sleeping. The door was locked promptly after removing all light, and the book was moved from her night stand to in front of her face. Finally, her horn lit up to provide a pleasant light for her to use while reading as she flipped to the next entry.

Journal 5

Returned Home - July 18Fuck it

Honestly, I never liked dating anything. Whether it was a note to myself or even this journal … I despise keeping track of time like that. Sure I have tried to date stuff, and this entry is no different. Each time I try and date something, it feels like I am looking at a dead body, something that once lived but has since passed.

Many a friend has asked me as to why I am like this, questioning the madness that has me hating dates. Each time, I simply shrug in response and just say ‘it’s who I am.’ That’s my answer, not some little cover up to a deeply hidden secret or horrible past. No, those are on display as it is; I simply hate dates.

Every time I looked at a history book that somehow managed to survive, I keep seeing dates and times that were always marked next to something horrid or great. You don’t need a date marker to know something important happened.

I do like the names for the days of the week, no matter how stupid they sound when you say them continuously.

It was a Wednesday I think, perhaps Thursday, either way, when I made it back to New Vegas I found something that shocked me more than anything has in the past. New Vegas, in all of her glory in the forsaken desert, was still standing.

It was a nice shock, for during my trek back, I constantly wondered what had become of the place over the week I was gone. To my surprise, nothing really changed, except my friends, but nothing drastic.

Veronica was constantly talking with McNamara about plans to help keep the roads safe once this was over. Also, she apparently found a very nice dress that she bought with my caps. I simply laughed at this and told her to ask for a refund.

Being the stick in the mud with one hell of a poker face, Boone went back to Novac and kept up duties. Honestly, that man needs to figure out what he is going to do now. He keeps claiming he is at peace with what happened at Bitter Springs, but I’m not convinced. Maybe he needs a damn good therapist …

Raul had apparently been helping the Boomers keep their tech good, as well as work on the plane. Not much to say to that; I trust Raul more than the rest, what with his experience.

Cass apparently stocked the Lucky 38 suite with enough alcohol to kill New Vegas twice over. Gal has a problem.

Rex is back with The King, while Arcade … well he disappeared really. I remember talking to him about so many things, experiences, beliefs, and history yet he never really opened up. He was always so vague with what he said. Perhaps he died? Wouldn’t be the first time someone died following me.

After playing catch up during a couple of days after returning, I decided to check out the cliffs facing the Legion Fort. I often visit the place, taking my time watching what I can from the lower advantage. Surprisingly enough, you can actually catch a glimpse of Caesar now and then out on a walk. Features are tougher to tell but the large group of bodyguards give him away.

I think it was around midday when my Pipboy picked up some weird ass signal. Something about ‘The Sierra Madre’ or some bullshit like that. I gave it no heed at first, mainly because I was too busy watching this scout nervously scamper behind cliff faces. The Legion must be picking fresh blood to send out and prove themselves. Fucking idiots.

See, there was this open area near a collapsed mine called Lucky Jim Mine apparently. Hilly area with a bunch of Geckos running about, but otherwise it is rather quiet. Legion Scouts always move through this area when trying to get deeper into NCR territory, which always brings about a confrontation with the Geckos. Sometimes it is amusing to watch them fight to see who gets a three-oh-eight between their eyes.

Anyway, the scout was by himself this time, not in a usual pack of three. He kept ducking back and forth behind rocks, eyes darting back and forth probably. No doubt he heard stories of scout teams being picked off constantly in the area and was nervous as balls. He had no idea I was there, perched in southern cliffs to the open valley, watching his every move.

As amusing as it was, and a little bit of pity for being sent into a death trap, he was still Legion. So when he poked his head out from a rock for a second too long, I put a round through his forehead. Bloody mess it caused on one of the rocks behind him; at least the geckos had a meal.

I remember reading somewhere, it was a while back, that you should never hate the soldiers of your enemy. They are simply pawns in a higher chess game played by those who rule. Yeah, thats a bunch of bullshit if you ask me. A man who sides with those who murder and rape for fun is no longer a man, in my books. He is a beast that needs to be put down, a shell of what might have been a respectable man.

Cottonwood showed me this; a lesson learned in how far a person can go past the point of sanity.

After that scout, it was all quiet in the valley again. Eventually, I packed up my weapon and left, yet that radio signal kept drawing my attention.

Perhaps after I restock in Novac, I’ll check it out.

Journal 7

The NCR

I’ve been meaning to write down my thoughts on the NCR for awhile. Ever since I became entangled in the mess that is the Mojave, I’ve had little to push me to believe the NCR was good. Honestly I still don’t, but at the same time I think there is more to that faction then I originally believed.

For the first few weeks of my journey, I despised them, vowed never to talk or associate with them but I learned how tough that was. I had this idea in mind that the NCR was corrupt through and through, that the taint, that was so evident in their leadership, had infected all of those that backed them. I don’t know where this idea came from, perhaps all of those past dealings as a courier had left their mark on me.

Sometimes, no matter how strong headed you can be, you grow up and learn that not everything is straight black and white. I couldn’t lump in the hard working people, who just wanted protection and survival, with the ones who only wanted more and more power. Eventually, my pure hatred for the NCR died slowly and ended up being more focused on those who were in charge. Not your average officer who followed orders, but the high ups that told them to follow orders.

It was the most ideal thing, to let my hate flicker and die, for it brought about opportunities to make some caps as a merc. Collect a few things here, kill something over there, deliver this to a certain place … all that nonsense. Paid well and gave me a decent rep with them even if I didn’t want it. Though one perk was catching a couple of guards talking about interesting things that they heard. New information was always good, and I even got some straight from the rats’ mouth.

I got to beat up an officer from the Legion. Got to whip his fucking ass while he was tied to a chair and boy did it feel good. At first the fucker was defiant, acting smug and going on about how we will all lose in the end. In response, I pushed the chair onto it’s back, with him still tied to it, threw a cloth over his face, and dumped irradiated water on him. Watching him choke felt more satisfying than anything.

Broke more bones in his body then there were tents outside of McCarran terminal … there’s a lot of tents. Every snap felt more satisfying than anything I’d ever done to a Legion soldier. Left him a bloody, whimpering pulp that barely could talk. I wanted to kill him, but Lt. Boyd kept that from me … at least he spilled some secrets before I nearly put him in a grave.

It saved a few lives in the end.

Now, even to this day, though it has only been roughly a month, the NCR still loves me. Tried to get me to help them take over the Mojave and all that jazz. Hah, it was funny to watch their smiles light up when I told them I would think about it.

Of course, just to be safe, I grabbed a stealth boy and snuck into Crocker’s room. Found some info on me, and it’s amazing that they had so little. Basic info along with some deeds I had done, yet they had nothing about my dealings with Yes Man. Admittedly, it is still a humorous thought when I picture my army of Securitron’s rolling over the Mojave and escorting the NCR out of my territory.

Not permanently though, just until a decent treaty will be reached. Unfortunately, that is just a fantasy for now.

I’ve got bigger fish to fry yet.

Journal 8

Courier Six

Yesterday … yesterday was not ordinary. It started off fine, just me and Boone walking a patrol from Novac to the edges of Searchlight. We often caught Legion scum trying to sneak in, and dealt with them accordingly.

As we neared Searchlight, a courier came up to me to deliver an envelope; the irony was not lost on me. What was inside it was something I couldn’t exactly comprehend. A simple letter, hardly worth the whole page it was written one, yet it held powerful words.

“Courier Six, I know you, and perhaps you know me. We are both tied to the same string of fate. Woven together until one finally frays. Fate will cut one of us soon. Below is the frequency for a radio broadcast. Follow it, and soon we will decide who gets removed. Signed, Courier Six.”

Maybe powerful was the wrong thing to write; cryptic would have been better. At first I just read the letter with what Boone called, ‘a face looking for something to be wrong,’ whatever that was. After reading it more than once, I flipped my Pip-boy’s radio over to the signal and got exactly what I needed.

A direction.

Whoever was behind this, whatever their motives were, was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

We didn’t even finish our route, instead I walked back to Novac, not caring whether Boone followed. All that mattered was I would be heading to his place to meet whoever sent this. It will take me a few days to reach the location, but whatever lies beyond that spot, I am going to make quick work out of it.

Journal 9

A Broken Land - Day 1

A place torn asunder, opened up and swallowed whole by the depths of the earth. It is all coming back to me … the package, the town … the death. All that eclipsed my past life ended up in this even more hellish wasteland. Everything that I was, buried beneath the rubble of what Ulysses called, The Lonesome Road.

Perhaps the bullet was the cause, or maybe it was the sheer guilt I felt at what I had done. The reason doesn’t matter now, all that matters is that I forgot. I simply forgot this part of my past and all the lives that were a part of it.

To see the scarred rock and concrete, brought back shadows of what had been. It almost caused the end of me as well, for I was too busy in the past to realize that the present was of bigger concern. A horrid figure, wearing Legion armor, tried to take my head off. Had it not been for its shriek of rage, my journey would have ended there. Instead, it just brought three pistol rounds from Maria to the back of its skull.

When I turned over the body, I realized that at one point this monster had been a person. Well, at least as much of a person as Legion soldiers ever got. Still, it was beyond comprehension what horrors that this man must have faced to end up so twisted and broken. I soon learned, though, that he was not the only one; in fact he was far from it.

A handful more came shortly after, the cry from their now fallen comrade must have drew their attention. Perhaps they were once men, NCR soldiers or Legion, but now they were nothing more than feral ghouls who could wield weapons.

It was a small skirmish, since none of them had guns, but nevertheless, it was terrifying. It took nearly half a magazine of five-five-six to down one, if it wasn’t a headshot. No normal man could have survived such a feat … such a thought brought back flashes of The Sierra Madre. I determined, then and there, that I was not going to die in the same mess I created. No matter what it took, I would find Ulysses and end this.

From that moment on, the fight was quick and simple. I emptied the rest of the clip, leaving two Scorched Men (what I decided to call them) to fight. Fighting two fire axe wielding pyschos was tough enough back in New Vegas. Here, it about the same, but back then, I didn’t have a conviction.

Drew my knife and Maria. Parried the first axe and dodged the second, placing me behind one. Two quick shots to the head like the first attacker. Had to jump away from the other, which gave me time to unload the rest of the clip. It staggered and harmed the other enough to put it on its knees.

Boot to the face, followed by my knife through its forehead. Simple, quick, and deserved.

I looked around for others, but none came. All that stood in front of me was what looked like a deserted army base … for now. Normally I don’t like holing myself up inside of buildings, even if I can barricade them. I would have prefered to be up on the rocks, overlooking the valley just incase, but that wasn’t going to be an option. No, the cliffs were too jagged, and not enough ledges to perch myself on for the night.

Instead, I’m writing this journal inside of a nearly ruined barrack, the door barricaded shut and a small fire made out of pried floorboards.

Huh, a tear drop fell on the page.

Perhaps I’m not as strong as I thought I was.

Journal 10

A Broken Land - Day 2

Torn, burned, and marred with deeds of humanity. Damn is this place ever depressing. I can almost see why Ulysses talks likes he does, the place where humanity dies and a butchered reincarnation is born.

It’s all so … would I be a horrible person if I said stale?

I’ve been attacked nonstop by those that want to kill me for months now, and being here hasn’t changed a single thing about that fact. Instead, all I am facing is beings that are far more devoid of human morality than even Caesar’s Legion. I pity them entirely, for having to suffer everything to become what they are now.

I made it to what looks like a collapsed roadway, now buried by what used to protect it. There is a path in, but I’m getting a strange feeling from just looking at it, so instead I’ve decided to set up camp on a little out hanging just to the side of it. It’s provided me some leverage against anything that seeks to attack, and the platform is deep enough to conceal myself from all but those that can fly.

Fought through the rest of the military complex and even a factory today … it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Sure it contained the same exploding heads, shattered bones, and spilled guts as usual, but no up close and dirty fighting like the first day.

It was easy enough to find a perch to fire from and clear out the path for the most part. These Scorched Men or whatever Ulysses called them were tough, but nothing is unstoppable. Even those fuckers from The Sierra Madre could be killed, and these remnants aren’t even close to being gas driven zombies.

An hour of sniping followed by methodical movements among the rubble so not to be jumped, it was a good enough combo to get me this far with only a scratch. Perhaps a scratch is not the right word. Bastard’s giant sword looked easy enough to dodge, but I guess even the extreme tip was sharp. Caught me along the side with a rather shallow cut, nothing that a stimpak, some stitching, and wrap couldn’t fix.

Didn’t have time to stitch it at that moment though, so I just wrapped myself and moved through rest of the rubble. Came across a small factory shortly after, which was as fun as it sounded. No high ground around that area made it tough, but for the most part I was able to sneak around and slice necks. Put them out of their misery silently.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I found a detonator that targeted something that no one could guess. Done guessing? Nuclear warheads. Fuck, the people who ruled the world before it became this mess. They literally had small nuclear warheads and large ones. These ones were pretty effective, though nothing like what I’ve heard from old stories. They probably had the same capacity of two, maybe three Fat Boy shots. Either way, it was fun drawing the bastards’ attention to a nuclear warhead before locking the detonator on it. I did mention I was far enough away, right? Yeah.

Kaboom. Heh. All fun and games until I’m the one being blown up, huh?

Journal 11

A Broken Land - Day 3

I think Ulysses is getting mad at me for not hurrying up quicker, though it only shows in little flecks in his voice. He’s more like the NCR then he likes to believe, or at least more like the symbol on the flag. Two headed bear, one symbolizing one thing and the other symbolizing the other. He says they represent the old world and the new world. Perhaps, but when applied to him they represent his desire to end this, and his desire to meet me. If he truly wanted only the first thing, then I wouldn’t need to be walking this far.

By the way, new tip. Stay the fuck out of tunnels when not in the Mojave or the west coast. I’m going to call them Tunnelers, might as well. Also, that will be the last time I mention them. Tore a Deathclaw to shreds in a group of three. Lucky for me, I’m far more agile than a Deathclaw.

When I finally broke the surface again, Ulysses seemed rather glad to actually be able to contact me. Despite his misanthropic philosophies, I think he might actually have redeemable qualities … maybe. He had enough humanity in him to break free from Caesar's poisonous grip, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the second former Legion member I didn’t kill on sight.

Did I mention I like bridges? No joke, I think they are cool in their ability and how they were designed. Even if this bridge contained enough Scorched Men to make up the NCR outpost leading west. Sounded fun, and dangerous, mind you.

Picked off the only one carrying a rocket launcher with my sniper before diving behind the cover of a completely blown up car. Can’t trust the ones that still had an engine in them. Either way, it was a tense minute or so where I was literally waiting for the fuckers to finish pumping round after round on the car. It seemed whatever happened to them dulled their minds a little. The fact none of them charged me in between suppressing fire left me open to take out the machine gunners in two small bursts.

From there, it was as simple as walking forward and emptying clips. Twenty more down, in quick work, though admittedly that sniper in the dual collapsed buildings spanning the bridge was annoying. Fucker could actually shoot …  at least till I put a round through the top of his head at maybe a thousand meters.

I scrounged the bodies before scaling that building. Glad I did too, was able to pick up something worthwhile. First off was a fifty cal sniper, only good for three shots but did it ever mess up that small pack of Deathclaws. The second item was a nice suit of what looked like NCR Ranger armor, only better. I saw the Ranger armor back when I ‘worked’ with the NCR in McCarran and it looked nice, but was shoddy for protection. This one though … it was modified. Additional plating of a lighter flavour but looked stronger. Whoever made this was a genius, took oval shaped metal disks and overlapped them with some sort of compound that looked far superior to WonderGlue. Either way it was mine now, I didn’t really care about the blood stains.

Kept moving down the massive bridge after that, nothing interfering with me and it made it  rather lonely, yet I liked it more than most walks I’ve taken. Sure, walks with Boone were quiet, but with this ruined land laid in front of me, it made me question some things. Nothing that needs to be written here, but needed nevertheless.

Ended up walking through another silo, though this one wasn’t as abandoned, not that it matters to me. Cleared it and set up camp on the other side, with my goal of reaching Ulysses tomorrow.

I think that’s ...

Wait … it occurred to me that I never mentioned ED-E. You see, I found this floating mechanical ball back in the Mojave and it wandered with me as a spotter and a way to boost my Pipboy’s signal. I guess I had traveled with the one from the Mojave so long that I never thought to mention that I found another one here. This ED-E, and yes, I am calling it by the same name, provided the exact same functions except Ulysses was using it to talk to me and receive my responses.

Odd how killing things and watching the horror I unleashed on a settlement took my mind off of everything else. So yeah … floating metal ball companion. Fun, fun, fun in the land of death and horror.

When I save the Mojave … when I give my last orders to Yes Man … I’m done. Done with this place. Maybe I’ll go north and find out what happened to that country above us. Canada, was it? Something like that.

Journal12

A Broken Land - Day 4

He set up camp near where I first entered. I kept a watch over him the entire time, whether it was out of caution or curiosity, even I couldn’t tell. We spoke a fair amount on the way back from his ‘Temple’ and to where we are as I write this. He talked about his adventures and experiences really; it was like reading my own book. We are alike, as though we were seperated at birth only to be reunited in the fiery pit of hell.

Forsake his origin and eventually the cause he allied to. He sought to destroy both sides to end a war that no-one would win. No matter how much we are alike, no matter how much he says we are brothers, that is where we no longer have anything in common. He wanted to leave the entire west coast in shambles, no one to pick up the pieces, and the Legion destroyed.

Though I agreed with him on destroying the Legion, there were too many on the West Coast that didn’t deserve the same fate as the NCR. Civilians and those who didn’t align with that flag. No, there was only one option, and I chose it back in the Temple.

Fought my way to the Temple, killing all that I needed to, and sneaking the rest of the way. Uneventful, all it really was was throat cutting and wasting bullets. Whatever was left of those Scorched Men in that section would be taken care of by the Deathclaws. Those, I left alone. Why wouldn’t I? They needed me to be on the ground to harm me, while all I did was scale along the cliff side. Definitely the easiest day in this hell hole.

When I got to the Temple, I had a nice chat with Ulysses, one that also involved me punching him hard enough to knock the gas mask off his face. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t react other than to say he deserved it. I don’t know if that makes him more of a dick, or if that makes me the dick. Either way, he rambled on about morals and choices, but my mind was made up before I entered the Temple. It was all I could think about last night anyway.

From there it was rather fast, in that those Scorched bastards attacked while I hit the correct button on his console; also known as the one aimed at the Legion. The bastard console forced us to stay and hold off the attack until it could finish its prep. Pre-War tech sucks.

Eventually, when that console finally started firing the missile, we fled the scene and thus sealing those fuckers off in the room. The deed was done and the Temple would be their grave. The other missile was fucked or something, since we only barely made it out before it went off, sealed the whole place shut. Thus leaving the barren Divide even more empty.

On the way back, I offered him a chance to join me in taking full revenge against the Legion. He simply shook his head before saying “my journey ends in the Divide. It is my home. It is my grave. Yours is yet to come.” As profound as I expected from the brief time I knew him.

I plan on leaving in the morning, why would I stay any longer? Perhaps I’ll ask him about what he thinks of my choices .. maybe. Not like I need a former Legion dog to tell me how to get stuff done. Though an outside opinion is nice … I guess.

That was one thing that kept bugging me, and still is. He used to work for the Legion, so why had I left him alive? I had long ago sworn that they were my enemy and yet one was alive. I couldn’t afford to get soft yet, my main goal was still ahead of me, and I would start the beginning of the end this week.

Journal 13

The Endgame (Part One)

Why part one? Well, assuming I don’t die, I expect to add two more entries into the journal about what is going to happen in the next few days. This one? This one is to record my thoughts, I guess, before I start the Mojave on the path to being remembered as the city that stood up against two empires.

I made my way back to the Lucky 38 to find my crew waiting there. They apparently had heard a nice little message that Ulysses sent out. They didn’t tell me much about it, and apparently only they received it, since it was delivered by more ED-E models. It didn’t matter too much, as all that mattered was that I wouldn’t need to find them.

The biggest surprise was that one had apparently found Arcade, the who went missing a while ago. He had surprised everyone by showing up, but what he had to tell me was the biggest surprise of all.

He was ex-Enclave! I mean, I never had to worry about those fuckers, but all of the stories I heard had painted them as deranged murderers hardly a step away from the Legion. I couldn’t hold back the fact that I was beyond angry at this, but he explained the entire situation. He had been born Enclave and left in order to actually help … or something like that, I honestly was still a little bit too angry to perfectly follow.

Either way, he offered something that actually made me blank. He offered the support of the Enclave that were still around in The Mojave, like Cannibal Johnson. Somehow that guy got even shadier than before. Either way, the deal was that they would help destroy the Legion at the Dam as long as they were allowed to “re-disappear” without the entire Mojave trying to destroy them.

If I had more time, I would have liked to meet each one of them to gauge who I was protecting, but that was not a luxury I was allowed to have. Instead, I counter offered them that I would let them ‘re-disappear’ as long as Arcade kept tabs on them. He seemed a little shocked that I was giving in so easily, but I told him that he would be the one paying the price if they fucked up hard.

He simply nodded before starting to leave. He did ask me one question though, “Do the Followers need a man like me in their midst?”

I replied with “Only a man like you can answer that question.”

I’m not answering his existential crisis questions for him.

Either way, after he left I took the rest of the gang, which was comprised of Veronica, Boone, Raul, and Cass up to the top of the tower. From our view overlooking New Vegas, and the former home of House, I told them my plan.

Step 1) Infiltrate The Fort.

Step 2) Kill Caesar.

Step 3) Wait at the Dam for the inevitable attack in response.

Step 4) Crush the Legion under my boots

Step 5) Peacefully remove the NCR from The Mojave

Simple and effective. Simple and effective.

To this, they asked what they needed to do. I needed them to make sure I had an extraction in case of being caught after the kill. Put Boone on a hill nearby, Cass and Veronica in an area to cause an uproar, and Raul as my extraction at the gate. It will go off without a hitch, tomorrow night it will all go down.

In light of such a big event, I wanted to know the status of The Mojave. Boone told me that Novac was under the watch of a few Ex-NCR friends of his while Primm was still doing well with the new sheriff.

Veronica told me the Brotherhood was ready to help escort the Caravans when needed, as well as repel a Southern invasion near Cottonwood if it happened. She also informed me that she had talked to the Boomers, who had apparently just patted her on her head and told her to watch the skies. I know what they meant, and it will be a sight to see.

Cass said that she had hidden a nice stash of ammo in Hoover Dam, with the help of, as she put it, ‘her way with men.’ She also was able to talk to some smaller caravan parties and explain a few aspects of their new guards. Hopefully they won’t go talking to the NCR about the content of their conversations.

Finally, at least out of my companions, Raul told me he was able to do some work on the Securitrons, to improve mobility and overall performance. He also told the mutants in Jacobstown that things were going to change for the better for them.

Yes Man, on the other hand, had a long list of things that he made happen while I was gone. Each tribe on the strip had officially pledged loyalty to a unified Mojave. The Khans also began to clear out of their canyon, not before ensuring that the local area was free of Powder Gang stragglers and Fiends. They will be slightly missed. Those were the major ones, with a handful of other things being done to make sure the transition to independence went smoothly.

I can honestly say that for the first time in over a year, I was happy. Not the gleeful type where everything seems to be all sunshine and rainbows. No, this was more along the line of ‘everything is falling into place nicely.’

First The Mojave, and then maybe Canada. Start with a region and move up to a country? Yeah, that sounds feasible.

Journal 14

The Endgame (Part 2)

It’s done. Heh, it’s done. Months of planning, honing my skills, and preparations. All of that came together last night. The entire thing went off without a single hitch, something that couldn’t be said for most plans. Executed to the exact detail, and in the end I got to experience something that every NCR soldier wishes they could have done.

I killed Caesar.

Nailed him to his chair.

It was perfect. Oh so perfect.

Utilized armor I got off of a hit squad. Some Legion dumbasses who failed to kill me, and in the end only helped further my goals. Boone was silently fuming the entire time since he had to dress up as well, but even he realised that the mission was more important than his hatred for the Legion.

The tough part was sneaking Cass, Veronica, and Raul in without them being noticed. That took a lot of improvising and a nice cover story, but in the end, the bastards paid us no heed as we made our way across the river to The Fort. Whoever that ‘Bargemaster’ was, he will feel like a complete idiot when he hears the news. Essentially just portrayed ourselves as the hit squad we got the armor from, though Cass and Veronica weren’t allowed to speak, and we had to dose Raul in some blood and guts to make the smell match with a suitable story.

When we crossed the river, I expected to be frisked for weapons, but the gate guards were completely retarded in that aspect. That was the epitome of how stupid they were. Boone went off to this little spot when no one was looking, which was only made easier with the lack of light. Veronica and Cass took Raul so they could get set up and not have to worry about answering questions.

I on the other hand, had the toughest job, but also the most fun; infiltrating The Fort. Damn was it exhilarating, walking past all of those assholes, making myself look like a regular among them until most of them went to bed, and waiting until Cass and Veronica set off the diversion. Hell, I guess my ‘costume’ actually meant something, not a single one of them came up to me or even questioned the suppressed twelve point seven pistol on my hip. That was a worry of mine, whether they would wonder about the suppressor or not, which turned out to be unfounded.

Did I mention that Cass and Veronica we supposed to set off the explosives three hours after entering the camp? Yeah, it would have been a long wait, if it wasn’t for the ‘secondary mission’ that I didn’t tell them about.

See, there was this bunker at the rear of The Fort supposedly. According to Yes Man, I needed to activate the new Securitron systems from there. Easy enough.

It was easy.

Find a quiet spot alone, activate a hidden Stealth Boy, enter the bunker and proceed to use the chip to upgrade my Securitron army. Steps one and two were easily completed. Step three had a minor hiccup in that there were guards. Oh well, just two less rounds in my current magazine. Packed the bodies into a trunk at the back of the room before using the chip to reveal the bunker.

What happened down there is little of concern to this journal, nor am I going to say it. The only thing needed to be done was use the chip. Simple as that.

I was lucky to get my task finished and out in time for my Stealth Boy to wear off outside. Didn’t want anyone seeing me walk out of that bunker.

So fast forward about an hour, and I was waiting on the explosion, standing a little bit closer to Caesar’s tent than I wanted to. It didn’t take too long though, and before I realised it was time, there was a massive explosion that rocked the camp.

Chaos ensued just as I needed it, and I slipped into the tent without a single person noticing.

Two guards that ended up with holes in their heads quicker than they could raise their stupid Power Fists. It was a little amusing that they were the only ‘guards’ that were there. The next two people that came through were nursing holes in their chests just as fast.

It was amazing at how easy it was to have Caesar and I in a room together. Two guards, two advisors and one other dude who shared the same fate. Within a span of maybe a minute, I was staring at the slightly shocked, yet stoic form of a soon to be dead leader.

He was quiet at first as I pulled up a chair to face him as he sat on his throne. We just stared at each other for a minute, before I finally told him what I was going to do. He merely said he had been waiting for the one who would deliver him to the afterlife. Or something like that, he was a little vague and long winded about it.

I just replied that he would get to meet this ‘maker’ of his, along with the rest of his corrupted followers. He had some words to say about how he was founding a new age that would usher in everything that was needed to make sure this world didn’t end up like that Old World. One that wouldn’t end in flames.

I wouldn’t be contemplating his words, nor would I think of changing my mind at this point. I had witnessed too many horrors done by his Legion that I would not change my mind on his punishment. He crucified those who stood against him … so he too would be crucified.

Put some duct tape over his mouth so he couldn’t scream. Then used the one thing I had been all too eager to use; a H&H Nail Gun. Oh his muffled cries were beautiful to hear, as I nailed his legs to the chair legs, hands to the armrests, and finally his shoulders to the back of the chair.

When I ripped that Duct Tape off, he didn’t cry out, or even swear at me. He merely said, “My gods smiles on me, Courier. Can you say the same?”

My response, “I have no gods, no masters, and no patience for yours.”

Then I put a round through his head and left.

I was able to walk out of The Fort, it was in so much chaos. Met up with my group before leaving, had to convince the Bargemaster to let us cross in spite of everything. Told him a story about how we had a clue as to who set off the bomb.

When we made it across and left Cottonwood, I gave the four of them the news. They cheered and revelled at what happened, and we kept up that entire feeling all the way back to The Strip. It was almost daytime by the time we got back, so no night of partying. Instead we are going to do it later, in like a few hours.

Drink, eat, and be merry, for in but a few days time we will be going to war.

Journal 15

The Endgame (Part 3)

We’re free. The Mojave is free … free from the torment of the Legion and the NCR. Free to make our own fate and lives that cannot be dictated by any other but ourselves. We will forge a new Mojave. One that will ensure that all who wish to be free from the bondages of slavery are welcome. Sure there will be rules, a unified force to protect us, and still dangers, but we will build a civilization that will stand long after the NCR crumbles.

That is my aim, and from the ashes of the two armies it will arise.

It was almost laughable, honestly. Laughable in how predictable both sides acted at the Dam. The Legion attacked like I expected, and the NCR asked for my help, to which I eagerly gave.

It was a full day worth fighting, and though it has been two days since, I can recount each single kill and each single confrontation. The whole thing was surreal at times, moving from gunfights to hand to hand.

Legion bodies and NCR alike littered the floor of the facilities at the Dam. Battle cries could be heard above the raging gunfire … just like the screams of those dying. It didn’t matter to me what was happening all around, I just needed to succeed. I was lucky to have four like minded people next to me and I still have them close to me, not a single one falling that day, though Veronica and Raul will be complaining about a few more scars.

We drove off the initial attempts inside the Dam before making our way back to the top to the Dam where the Legion were starting to overwhelm the NCR. Luckily my friends came in handy. By friends, I meant the Enclave and the Boomers.

The Enclave arrived first, strafing the Dam clean before sending in some Power Armour support. They mowed through Legion cannon fodder like they were nothing but standing targets. Though once they were out of ammo their flying vehicle came back to retrieve them. Their help was invaluable though, and allowed us to push the Legion back across most of the Dam before they put up some tough resistance that was bolstered by what seemed like a never ending flow of soldiers.

Good thing the Boomers decided to intervene on that. Such a beautiful sight. I can’t give it a fitting description. So simply put, the Boomers launched an artillery strike for a an extremely loud ten seconds before the massive plane, I helped get out of the lake, flew above, dropping slightly larger versions of Mini Nukes.

It was awesome. Awe inspiring. Deadly.

From there, it was beyond easy to push the Legion back all the way, slaughtering them one bullet at a time. They fought viciously but their lines were completely broken, and probably their morale, too.

By the time we started pushing up on their camp, we were wading through rubble and bodies. The NCR decided to continue the push to the main camp via the road, but even with the situation tipping in their favour, it would take them awhile. Instead, I wanted to beat them there, and crush them myself.

I took my little group through a side pass that forced us to nearly scale a cliff. Something far from new to me, and I made it look easy for the others. The benefits outweighed the dangers, and in the end, five of us were in prime position to take out the camp.

I handed Raul my sniper rifle, and told him and Boone to provide overwatch while the rest of us made our way. Now was the perfect time to actually use my custom Marksman Rifles, ones that I had threaded at the muzzle to allow a suppressor. Three of them, two regular style ones for Cass and Veronica, while I threaded my ‘All-American’ to make it that much more useful.

With Boone and Raul on overwatch, we silently picked through the guards before actually entering the camp through a little hole in the hastily constructed walls. It took some sneaking and dodging more patrols but we eventually discovered a nice stack of propane bottles. Oh yes, propane. I simply smiled at the girls, which told them more than they wanted to know as they slinked back the way we came.

I on the other hand, placed some perfectly primed C4 before evacuating the area.

Let me say, in spite how deafening it was, that explosion was beautiful. Rilled up the camp something nice, which just allowed us to slowly pick off more and more as they ran about as though they had their heads cut off.

In the midst of the anarchy that erupted, I made my way to the what looked like another Fort setup. As in another massive tent for the Legion’s general or whatever, which hopefully would just keep toppling the Legion’s power.

Well, I got a nice little surprise in the form of a hulking armored Legionnaire, and from the way he introduced himself, it was their Legate. Myths of the man had spread, and yet he was exactly that ... a man.

I told him that victory was assured and that if he were to surrender at that moment, his death would be quick and painless. He merely laughed before drawing him sword.

The fact I am writing this entry should already prove who ended up victorious. He must have thought that those ‘of the west’ only fought with guns. Yet that machete I took from that dead Decanus in Nelson was a nice blade. A nice enough blade that I was able to parry a few attempts at a strike before slicing his heels.

He was simply a beast of brute force, knowing not the intricacies of battle. There is always weak points in enemies, and the heel was almost always it.

On his knees, I put the blade through his back, withdrawing it painfully slowly, yet he still breathed. Still coughing blood and speaking as though the Legion would win the day. His fanatical devotion to a cult of abominations was shocking in the least. Yet when I walked in front of him and pulled his mask off, I didn’t see a man there … all I saw was a feral animal that needed to be put down.

I rammed that machete straight through his throat before kicking him backwards. He deserved to die on his back and in the dirt.

I didn’t celebrate at this, instead I turned to walk away. My army would be here soon enough to evict the NCR and clean up this mess. My job was done, and I would be able to finally take a break.

I would never miss the Legion … but thanks to Arcade, there was one thing I at least admired now that I looked back. Latin is an awesome language.

General Oliver met with me at the entrance of the Legion compound. His soldiers looking fresh, probably because he had arrived to claim victory. Shown up just in the nick of time so that he would look like the hero. Fucking bastard.

He went on about how despite our little differences in the past, ‘we had come together to make the Mojave a better place.’ I spat on the ground at his feet, showing my disgust. He shook with rage, and I just shook my head. He wanted to shoot me and I wanted him to follow my army out of the Mojave.

My argument was far superior, and he begrudgingly started to withdraw his army that would be escorted by thousands of Securitrons. He swore revenge over this ‘atrocity’ to which I told him that he could easily be swinging by his heels over the edge of the Dam right now. As he finally turned his back to me, I shouted that the NCR and I would be in touch.

You can’t run a nation without allies, and even with everything that NCR had done, it would bring in a good amount of revenue to allow NCR troops on the strip. That wasn’t anywhere in the near future though. Tonight, The Strip will be alight with cheers of joy. Things will be better.

Chapter 3

An alarm sounded to the right of Luna, startling her from her reading. She glanced over it and found that she had read through the entire night! This caused her to blink a few times before looking down at the journal. She had read a fair amount, considering she was nearing the end of the book, but at the same time she had only read, what was it? Eight entries? Eight entries!

She blushed hard, despite there being no true reason for it outside of the shame she felt. How could she have been a such a slow reader? She wasn’t this slow normally; no, she zoomed through bills and legislatures like they were nothing but a single paragraph.

As she rose from her bed, she couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened that she only got eight entries in. Had she fallen asleep? No, she was not that airheaded to have missed such a thing. Dreamscaping? It would have been a decent answer, but it was wrong. There hadn’t been a single nightmare in days, to which she did smirk slightly.

A stray thought appeared in her head, a consequence of teasing from Celestia when he was still in Canterlot. Did she really love him? Did she love him enough that she had gotten so engrossed in his journal? Enough to actually take an entire night to read but a mere section.

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. She had not denied that she felt something for him, despite them having no similar physical qualities. No, she didn’t find him as appealing as a stallion, but who would blame her? No, the reason she fell for him, was the way he acted towards her and those around her.

Despite what the journal said, he was a caring pony ... err, person that actually showed Luna a measure of informal respect and she wanted more than her current amount. Too many ponies bowed before her in such ways that made her feel more like a simple figurehead, and not one with her ponies. Celestia didn’t mind the formality that she had gotten over the years, but she had always easily received the admiration while Luna had to forage for it. That was neither here nor there for Luna, though.

She had worked hard to gain her public image and sway the minds of those who initially feared her, which turned out to be fortuitous. She started to be seen in better light, but it was nothing compared to her sister. Then along came a certain being, teleported right into the middle of the throne room just as the elements had come to visit her sister and herself.

Such the surprise to both sides, the sudden teleportation, that her sister and her were stunned to silence. On the contrary, the Courier had a multitude of vulgar words that almost caused dear Fluttershy to cry. The expletives were nearly shouted and he slowly backed out of the room, holding up his middle fingers. That of course was until he was tackled and subdued from behind by more than a hooful of guards. It was closer to ten guards.

After a few days of figuring out what had happened, including multiple magical scans of the area, they had determined that said being was not exactly harmless but was not willing to harm a single pony. In fact, the words he used was “too fucking adorable for a bullet.” Over time, Luna eventually learned the context and it still brought a little giggle and blush to mind. Well, mainly because he had said it while pointing a gun at her.

Yeah, they had been inseparable when she had a free time. It felt like two lost souls had come together at last, though Luna doubted she could compare herself to the human. Now though … now she looked back on the whole three months with longing, wishing she had confessed how she felt towards him. Her chance left when he did, and she had see him out of the door with a smile and a hopeful proposal of him returning, to which he simply smiled.

“How could I have been so foolish …” Luna muttered as she moved away from the balcony. She had raised the moon during her deep thinking, as it had become second nature for her millennia ago.

She trotted out of the door, making her way to the dining room which mostly housed a tired Celestia. Not physically, but mentally tired. The type of tired that one experiences after performing a full twenty four hours of work. If Luna wasn’t in such a contemplative mood, she would mess a little with Celestia. She always was the easiest to mess with when she was tired, even when she was a filly.

“Ah, Luna! Glad to see you actually got out of bed,” Celestia said before a yawn escaped her lips. She still had another day to go before her turn to sleep. Luna felt a little bad at wasting her sleep so she could read. It kind of felt like she had betrayed her sister … kind of.

“After yesterday’s paperwork, I just wanted to sleep all day,” Luna said as she sat herself down only moments before a large plate of pancakes were placed in front of her. Out of all the modern marvels that had come while she was banished, Luna had a soft spot for two things. One was the sheer amount of advancement in the medical field, and the other was pancakes. Sure, one of those was a little all encompassing, but that was balanced out by pancakes.

Celestia smiled at Luna as she stopped talking, and instead became a little too focused on the pancakes that were placed in front of her. It was okay, Celestia knew how much Luna loved her pancakes. Not because of sentimental reasoning or sisterly like thing, no. Celestia knew, because when Luna had first been introduced to pancakes, there wasn’t any left for the other six guests that ate with them that day. In fact, she had to almost physically roll Luna out of the dining room due to how stuffed she was with pancakes.

Speaking of Luna and pancakes, once Celestia actually refocused on the present and not a humorous moment, she found that there was two plates lacking pancakes. One plate was Luna’s and the other was her own.

“Really?” Celestia said, eyebrow raised in questions.

“Waht?” Luna said as she chewed down the last of the pancakes. Celestia couldn’t take it any longer, and just broke out laughing.

She laughed.

And laughed.

Finally, she stopped laughing, which was at the exact same time that Luna finished chugging a bottle of syrup that was left over. Celestia had, thankfully, not seen her chug it, as Luna would have had a hard time explaining that one. Her reason was because the sheer amount of sugar in the syrup might just give her enough kick to stay awake, and let her get through the day of having to fill in for Celestia at Day Court. Apparently some ambassador had wished to talk with her.

That was actually something Luna was thankful for. She honestly hated ambassadors and their self-righteous attitudes. Either way, Luna would be able to sneak some reading in between petitioners this morning. It was a Saturday after all, and most ponies only came by during the week. Probably a means to get off of work … Luna wished she could do such a thing as well.

Celestia was still wiping tears away from her eyes as she rose to leave. Some small giggles came out of her mouth as she left. Sometimes no words were needed to be said between them. Today was one of those days.

With that, Luna wiped her mouth with a napkin before walking off to court. She was going to be nearly an hour early, so she would be able to materialize the book in front of her and sneak some reading on the throne. In hindsight, perhaps the syrup wasn’t needed for today.

Upon reaching the Throne room that would be the host to petitioners, Luna flopped down on the throne as best as she could. Since it was a chair in essence, it was tough to do so, but Luna had mastered the art of being comfortable on any surface. Which was something that annoyed her sister to no end.

The moment she had gotten comfortable, she flipped open the journal to the page she had bookmarked. This one marked the beginning of the best part! His first entry written while in Equestria!

Journal 16

  This is not Canada

Right, this entry is going to sound like complete nonsense. So I would like to clarify some things before I explain this situation I have found myself in.

First off, I don’t take drugs. The most I utilize is minor Med-X doses that could barely qualify as painkillers, and Stimpaks to help the healing process. Never in my life have I ever taken Psycho, Jet, or anything like that. I swear upon my old grave.

Secondly, I am currently writing this in a grass field where I can literally see everything moving around me, so I am not hallucinating. Also I can’t be asleep because I can feel pain. I’m told that is one deciding factor.

Lastly, never, and I mean never, trust old or mysterious technology that had a bullet point list of how to operate. That was probably my biggest folly in my entire life. It happened with the Sierra Madre … happened in the Lonesome Road … why didn’t I learn?

Anyway, with that clarified, I give anyone reading this the ramblings of a completely sane man who is currently witnessing something not sane at all.

It started when a few days before landfall (yes I am calling it that for reasons) when I got another mysterious broadcast that was coming from the Nipton area. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a set of random flickering sounds. Though thankfully Veronica was able to tell it was actually something called Morse Code. Yeah, the message actually had a meaning. I actually left before she decoded it, or at least I think she might have. Like I said, I left before she was able to tell me whether or not she had.

The trip was boring and I made sure to stop in Novac for a little more ammo, not to mention water and whiskey. Yes, my pack always contains whiskey. No it is not currently affecting me. Yes I have finished the bottle by now, though.

Either way, when I finally got to Nipton, I found what could only be described as a satellite. Yeah, a satellite, as in the ones that the people of the Old World used to send up into orbit around earth. Thank god I found that encyclopedia set, am I right? Getting back on track, I was a little hesitant to touch it, seeing as it looked like it fell from the sky.

I knocked it a few times with my rifle butt before figuring that whatever it was, it was a piece of junk. That was until I kicked it, which apparently was the only way to spring open a little compartment. Said compartment frightened the fuck out of me for but a second before I decided to actually look inside.

I found a note and a detonator … yeah, I was stunned to say the least.

On the note was a three point bulletin list.

Don’t be alarmed!Think of the place you want to go to the most!Press the button

Somedays I really wonder if there is a completely retarded side of me that fails to contemplate my actions. The parts that wonders such things were not active when I decided to press that button.

The part that was active was my stomach. In fact, the moment my body stopped feeling like it was being stretched like a rubber band, I upchucked pretty hard. Only once though, since I had a light breakfast which was now staring back at me from the polished marble surface beneath me.

This is where it started to take a complete left turn. I only needed to look up to confirm my theory that I was no longer in the Mojave. When I looked up I saw eight? Yeah I’m pretty sure it was eight at the time. I saw eight extremely brightly coloured miniature horses. Such an animal was extinct but like I said before, encyclopedias.

Even in ten years I will still argue that my reaction was completely justified. I simply backed away, holding up my middle fingers while telling the world I was not going to deal with this shit today.

Unfortunately, the massive group, of what I assumed was ponies, that tackled me from behind told me that I was indeed going to deal with this shit.

Long story short for the rest of that day, I spent the rest of the day being dragged down to an isolated room that only had a window and a small bed, stripped of all but my clothes, and getting a shitty meal that included some grain that I knew I couldn’t eat. Damn, horses. At least there was bread and water.

What a great way to spend my first few hours in a world filled with extremely colourful ponies. It was incredibly laughable, and if I didn’t know I was sober, I would have thought I was hallucinating the entire thing.

At the time, a stray thought crept into my mind. one that involved how New Vegas would run without me. Then I realised that Yes Man and I had spent multiple nights coming up with plans for such things happening. I wasn’t indestructible after all; just skilled and lucky. In the end, I figured that Yes Man would be able to hold down the fort since he’s not prone to stupidity like I was.

So I sat and sat, alone in the surprisingly well lit room for what seemed like hours, and most likely was since the lack of sunlight was becoming obvious. Eventually, daylight gave way to night and I was surprised by the sound of the door being unlocked.

Now it was here that i was stuck at a moral quandary. To kill whatever came through that door and escape, or let them live and negotiate my way out? Honestly I was tempted to go with kill, but I was surprised to find that the pony to enter was more than prepared for such a thing. It was actually one of the first ponies I saw, the dark blue one (yes, I’ll add the name later), and she was wearing a full suit of plate armor or something like that. Not to mention she had a sword with her.

First words out of her mouth, and I shit you not, “What did you mean by ‘Fuck you world, I’m going home’?”

I snickered a little at that … okay I laughed a lot before finally telling her. Honestly, despite the armor and sword, she was rather nice. Though my definition of nice tends to be someone who hasn’t shot at me, threatened me, or actually tried to kill me. Still, nice is a good term.

We talked for a bit, her asking questions about me and how I got here, to which I couldn’t answer without sounding crazy. Of course, since I am currently in a world populated by crazy coloured ponies … I think the word crazy has been stretched.

After many … many words, more than the amount I usually speak in a week, she let me go. Seriously, that’s how I’m writing this. She was even nice enough to give me a room to stay in while they “analyzed how you got here.” Good luck with that.

So that was day one, and I am writing this on day four, I think. What did I do for the other two days? It can be easily summed up as three things. I ate, I slept, and when those weren’t happening I was being questioned about everything I knew. Honestly, that purple one is annoying beyond any reasonable doubt. She just keeps on talking and talking. Hell, she’s probably talking still … yeah I kind of slipped out of one of her lectures to get a break. I’m feeling cooped up enough as it is, without Sparklebutt talking to me.

Yeah, I nicknamed her that since one of the first conversations was these ‘cutie marks.’ From there it only spiral out of control for that day. Mainly name calling that gathered a surprising audience. No foals luckily enough, so my entire arsenal of names could be unleashed.

You wouldn’t believe how much stress you can release by calling someone a “pink narcissistic chicken with a forehead boner.”

Either way, that was my first little bit in Canterlot, aka the capital of ‘Equestria’ … honestly I think the puns will get to me first.

Death by puns would probably be likely in this weird ass world.

Chapter 4

“Princess?” a voice called from beside the throne, forcing Luna to take her eyes of the new entry she was preparing to read. Here she thought she had more time, possibly enough to read two entries, but apparently she was wrong.

Standing beside the throne was a stallion that could be considered middle-aged, glory days were past, but he still had much ahead of him. The light grey coated stallion had a fading yellow mane that was well groomed and kept in line. Finally to top off the odd colouration, was a pure black beard that had most likely not been trimmed in years.

“Ah, Planner … I did not expect to see you so soon,” Luna said with a little apprehension. She was far too eager to continue her reading, but she knew in the back of her mind that the moment Structure Planner showed up, she would need to put the book down.

“Engrossed in another book, Your Highness?” Planner asked rhetorically before continuing on. “I do hate to bother your reading, but we must prepare for the court. There aren’t many petitions today, but two of them are being made by nobles hailing from Baltimare and Trottingham.”

“Ugh,” was all Luna could answer in response to that. She didn’t like dealing with those two, but apparently they knew when she was presiding over Day Court.

“Your trepidation is not without its merit, Your Highness, but we must go through with it today,” Planner spoke evenly, before pulling up a nice stack of papers with his magic and giving them to Luna.

Without hesitation, she took them in her magic and began to scan over them. She didn’t read them, instead opting to skim over the details since she would be allowed to use them for further knowledge when the time came. Despite her work ethic, she detested the proposals that nobles brought to her, and was often referred to as ‘The Bane of the Noble Houses.’ She did like the title, though.

“Duke Bit Coin is trying to test out a new currency? What is wrong with the Bit? It has lasted all of these years without a single issue among the global market …” Luna said out loud, not really talking to Planner, who just nodded at his Princess’ statement. “And Duke Royal Check is petitioning for the rights to an iron mine south of Baltimare, interesting. Perhaps that one can be allowed for now.”

“Indeed, Princess, but they will not be presenting their proposals till the end of the court session. For now, we have a few smaller matters from ponies that wish guidance and help,” Planner said, taking Luna’s interest off the noble’s issues.

“No matter is small when it can help improve the lives of my ponies, Planner, we have been over this before,” Luna said with a faint smile, prodding Planner in the side to make him lighten up a bit.

“I know Your Highness, but I was merely speaking in contrast,” Planner replied, obviously not getting the teasing.

Luna merely grumbled in response. She really wished that Planner would stop being so formal with her. It was fine when he used to be one of her sister’s scribes, but Luna didn’t need another version of the guards that went about their duties in the castle. She needed another pony that she could be rather normal around on a daily basis. Twilight and her friends were a nice change of pace but they hardly came around, while Celestia was her sister and despite their best efforts, they didn’t always find time to be around one another.

And he was gone … so that left another somewhat empty hole in her daily life.

That was neither here nor there, and Luna couldn’t afford to be thinking about him all day. She had petitioners that would start shortly, and her full attention needed to be on them. Though no matter what, she dreaded the idea of listening to those nobles rant for what would feel like hours on end. The thought caused Luna to groan out loud in annoyance.

“If we finish quick enough, you may go back to your reading, Your Highness,” Planner offered after hearing Princess Luna’s groan. To this, she visibly perked up and simply nodded her head before bringing on her well practiced serene smile.

“Send in the first citizen!” She called out to one of the guards standing at the door. They simply nodded before opening the door to let the first pony come through. A red pegasus stallion with a blue mane walked into the hall, looking a little bit nervous.

“Greetings my little pony, may I get your name?” Luna offered with a gentle voice.

“Star Flicker, Your Majesty” he said with a bow.

“So, Star Flicker, what has brought you to court today?” Luna said, coming down from her seat. She actually liked to get up close with ponies, as she felt it allowed them to feel more comfortable with talking with her.

“Well …” he started.

Luna rubbed her temples with both of her hooves. She would probably have tried to do so with all four, but then she would have just looked silly. Day Court was done, and Luna had a headache. Sure, the first few hours had been extremely easy, with the petitioners wanting things that were extremely feasible or having issues that could have been easily solved if they put the right amount of thought into it. Luna didn’t mind those types of ponies, for she was glad to have helped, and the thanks she received from them meant a lot to her.

The nobles on the other hand, were what gave her the headache … well that, and a few regular petitioners who were extremely stubborn. Either way, the hours that followed after the easy section were stretching Luna’s patience the entire time.

She didn’t even want to think about what happened; it had pained her enough as it was. All she knew is that at the end of the day, she wanted to send more than one pony directly into the sun. Not by magic either, perhaps a jury rigged catapult.

To that, she somewhat giggled before her head throbbed once more. The worst part was that she didn’t even get a break throughout the entire time to take a second and read more. No, she had be pressed with more petitioners than she thought. Fortunately, the day was still somewhat early, so perhaps she could take a nap in the Archives. They did have some of the nicest cushions available.

In fact, that was what she was going to do. She would go to the archives and just relax. No reading, no straining over bills, and no more annoying petitioners. Just her and one of those bean bag chairs that she had seen so many times yet never actually used. It would be a glorious afternoon.

Luna came to grinding halt almost immediately, realising that not only was she going in the opposite direction of the Archives, but she was in fact on the opposite side of the castle. For a moment, Luna wanted to curse at her carelessness in forgetting which way she had to go. Of course, that quickly gave way to her remembering what was on top of her head.

Without further thought, she immediately teleported to the Archives and right into the spot where the bean bag chairs were. Upon landing on one of the said bean bag chairs, her headache decided to double in strength, forcing a loud groan of pain from her. In hindsight, teleporting from nearly the other side of the castle was not a smart move when one had a headache. No matter how comfy the bean bag chair was, the headache overwhelmed Luna to the point of making one long continuous groan.

A faint pop sounded off behind her, but Luna was in too much pain to bother to look. Luckily for her, the voice that followed told her exactly who it was.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Celestia asked as she moved around to Luna’s left. Luna didn’t even open up her eyes in response, instead opting to emit another groan of pain. Celestia had only been passing by the Archives when she heard the groan of pain. She knew it was Luna’s immediately, but could also tell that it wasn’t anything pressing.

Celestia rolled her eyes, sometimes Luna could be overly dramatic in the way she acted, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance her headache had been bad. Celestia knew the exact schedule that Luna had to go through today, and came to the conclusion that she probably had some type of headache. Bit Coin and Royal Check were among the most annoying nobles that she had to endure, and she often tried her best to avoid such meetings.

“Did you teleport with a headache again?” Celestia asked as she pulled over a bean bag chair to sit in next to her sister. Luna nodded in response to the question, not bothering to open her eyes, to which Celestia merely let out an annoyed sigh. Sometimes Luna could be so forgetful when it came to her own health. “Here, let me help soothe that.”

Celestia touched her horn to her sister’s and sent a small wave of magic through them. While it wouldn’t fully clear the headache, it would at least help her deal with the pain until it went away. Magic had come a long way in Equestria over the years, but there was still a lot of things that couldn’t be done. In time, perhaps, her ponies would find ways, but that time would be far from now.

“Thanks, ‘Tia,” Luna grumbled before letting her hooves, that were once at her temples, drop down beside her. When her eyes finally opened, she immediately closed them at the bright light that was filtering from a nearby window. The reading area was sectioned off from the rest of the Archive, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t an annoying window and balcony that allowed way too much light in for Luna’s liking.

 Thankfully, there were also curtains. Said curtains were instantly covering thanks to Luna’s magic. She waited a few seconds, allowing one of her eyes to slightly crack open to see if she was successful in closing the curtain. When it confirmed that the room was by far much darker than it had been a minute ago, Luna proceeded to reopen her eyes. Her gaze immediately went to her left, to find that her sister was smiling serenely at her, holding a certain book in her grasp.

Luna let out a small gasp at the sight. how could she have forgotten that she had been carrying the book with her the entire time? Celestia probably thought that her excessive reading was the reason for the headaches. She’d probably find out that Luna had neglected her sleep for reading instead. Gah, how could she be so careless?

“You know, I remember that day very well,” Celestia said as she scanned over the pages before looking to Luna. “The first time anyone teleports, nausea is always the result, but of course we didn’t realise how far he teleported … and I was going to berate him on making the maids clean up a mess like that.”

“Yeah … though I think the guards taught him his lesson,” Luna snickered a little. Admittedly, and despite the feelings she had for him, Luna always thought it was funny to remember how the guards jumped him from behind. The yelp that came from his mouth was always a humorous thought.

Celestia was quiet for a little bit, not really looking at the book but also not looking at her sister. Her thoughts were indeed of the man who had given something more to their lives. Before him, too many ponies thought of them solely as their rulers. Even her former student still bowed and often used their prefix. Celestia didn’t know how Luna thought on all the formality, for they never really talked about it, but what she did know was that when The Courier came, they actually had someone who saw them as regular ponies.

“You still love him, don’t you?” Celestia asked, forcing Luna to do a triple take at her sister’s question. It caught her completely off guard and stunned her enough that she almost fell out of the bean chair.

“I … but that … what I … how …” Luna was stumbling with her words much like a foal who had been caught trying to steal cookies. On the inside it amused Celestia a little, for she was finally able to tease Luna about something on a regular basis. Sure she had guessed that Luna had developed some strong feelings for him, but now she had proof.

“I’ve figured for a bit, Luna. I’ve noticed you reading this book more often then not, even when you are trying to be sneaky,” Celestia said, blowing a raspberry to her sister, who had since developed an extremely thick blush. “You miss him more than I realised, huh? It must have been terrible to see him leave.”

“I … I have,” Luna said, her head tilting down in sadness. “I wished I had told him how I felt before he left. Maybe that would have stopped him from going and he would still be here.”

“You can’t play what ifs with the past, Luna. You and I know that there is no changing it,” Celestia said as she moved to comfort her sister. “Do not lose hope, Luna. You’ve read his journal, the Unclaimed Lands are probably under his rule now!”

Luna couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image of him sitting on top of a throne or something in the middle of the harsh lands. Yet still, she couldn’t help but cling to the past and the lost chance she had at confessing her love. At least her sister would always be here to help her through the rough moments when she missed him the most.

“Thanks, sister,” Luna said as she started to relax. She did want to sleep, especially if it would help get rid of her headache, but at the same time, now that Celestia brought up her feelings, she wanted to continue reading the journal. Perhaps only a couple of entries this time.

“You know, you should sleep, Luna,” Celestia offered, gazing over to her sister, whose eyes were fluttering to stay awake. Luna was often the most stubborn when it came to taking suggestions, but this was one of the times that Luna was actually considering following her sister’s recommendation.

Of course that was until she remembered that the journal was still with her, per say. She wanted to finish it so badly so that she could simply reminisce instead of obsessing over the journal. Despite her love for him, she still realised that focusing all of her attention onto his journal was not exactly the healthiest thing to do.

“Can I at least finish the book?” Luna said, throwing a small pouty face towards her sister, who merely rolled her eyes in response. Despite how often she tried, her sister still was able to resist Luna’s pout. “We can read it together … besides, there are only four more entries.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll get some sleep tonight,” Celestia said. at first Luna was confused because it wasn’t her turn to rest, but then the implications set in. Truly, she had the greatest big sister in the world. Something she should remember to tell Celestia more often, perhaps by having the Pink One throw her a party!

Luna visibly shuddered though, at the thought. Not the one regarding the party, but instead the one focused on the Pink One. Sure, she knew her real name but after multiple visits to Ponyville, she was reluctant to say the name out loud.

Or the word party.

The word cake.

Sugar.

Dancing.

Streamers.

The list was pretty long, in reality and only because she had memorised it, was she able to go about her normal routine without mentioning those topics. As well, her guards were banned from saying those words as well. Word had even gotten out that it was part of the requirements to join the Night Guard. At first, it was thought to be silly, but a couple of the fresh recruits had mistakenly included all of the words in a dare. They didn’t show up at their posts the next day.

Luna shook her head to realign her thoughts, and focus once more on the fact that she was going to finish reading the journal with her sister. Celestia had apparently been watching her the whole time, and an amused look spread across her muzzle.

“Bit for your thoughts?” She asked with a light giggle.

“No … it’s better I keep them as thoughts,” Luna said before getting up to move her bean bag closer to her sister. With a simple shift, she was able to once again sit down, but was close enough to snuggle into her sister if she wanted to. If.

“I almost wish I didn’t have this journal … “ Luna muttered, instead wishing she had the real thing. Celestia just hummed in response, probably already guessing where her sister’s thoughts were going.

Journal 17

A Full Month of Ponies

Let’s put it this way. After living a tough life of day to day fighting just to stay alive, having to scavenge food constantly, deal with pesky and deadly beasts who only viewed you as food, and fighting a war against a bat shit insane army that wanted to torch and burn everything, I had created a routine.

First I would wake up, and grab whatever food I had on hand. Next, I would get my gear ready no matter what needed to be done. I would then proceed to walk around the Mojave for a bit, usually going a certain direction or at least towards a general area of interest. That step was interspersed with killing whatever tried to kill me in the process. Finally, I would do what needed to be done in that area before repeating steps three and four. Eventually, at the end of the day I would have racked up at least ten kills of some sort and would have gotten something important done.

To sum up what I was feeling after being thrown out of my routine by this land of ponies: I was fucking bored.

I was attaining a new level of bored that transcended from regular boredom to a new plane of existence that made every minute stretch as long as a week. A fucking week!

I couldn’t go hunting, since there was nothing to hunt … I couldn’t go exploring since they didn’t want me to leave the city unless escorted by one of them (by them I meant the two alicorns that seemed to watch over my every move somehow), and I couldn’t even shoot my weapon! Though that last one was because I didn’t have a way to resupply myself.

I ended up fixing that last problem though, in the form of letting Sparklebutt examine my stuff. I had to actually roll up a nearby magazine in order to keep her from dismantling my weapons. She kept complaining about it though, saying ‘I can put them back together!’ but I just kept swatting her. Apparently the best way to nullify magic being cast (her words not mine) was to make physical contact with the horn. Though she immediately bragged about being able to keep casting through such contact.

She was not impervious to my magazine to the flank technique, though.

In the end, it devolved into a name calling argument again. This time it got so bad, that Luna had to step in and intervene. Admittedly it was funny that Luna’s jaw was able to drop that far, and it was that day I found out that ponies can indeed blush. It was unnatural, though … not just darkening or redding of the fur … there was literal red as in it just sat on top of the fur like it was pasted on or something. Fucking weird.

Where was I? Oh yeah, ammo problem. Well, after our little confrontation, Sparkle wanted to see if she could reverse engineer my ammo. At that precise moment, I didn’t think of the possible ramifications of equipping ponies with guns. All I wanted was access to more ammo so that when the time came, I would be able to have a nice build up. Now though … well I’m not too worried since as the saying went ‘necessity is the mother of invention’ and from what I saw on a daily basis, there was no need for guns.

Besides … eventually they would have figured it out if they needed to and no doubt, just like now, Sparklebutt would have been the one to get it all set up. ‘Gun Trotters: Equestria’s Premier source of Weaponry’ with the President and founder being the ‘Princess of Friendship.’

Let me tell you, when I first thought of that a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t stop laughing whenever I saw her. I would walk by her in the hall and just start breaking down laughing at the thought of her dressing in a business suit and talking about weapon mechanisms.

Anyways, once more getting back on track, I was eventually given a suggestion by Celestia as to ways to keep me from being bored. Said ways involved me working out with the guard. Yeah, that lasted a few days before I found their ‘training’ to be too formal for what I did. Sure I still plan to train with them every other day, but for other reasons that don’t involve being bored.

I guess if I wasn’t itching to continue my routine, this place would have been rather nice to settle down. The locals were nice, weather wasn’t too bad, and there wasn’t any sort of post-apocalyptic issues to worry about. You know, the sort of place that you could retire to.

Wow, now that I’ve re-read this past page I’ve come to the conclusion that I am truly fucked in the head. I would willingly give up paradise in order to kill things and fight day to day. Sheesh … kind of wishing that I did make it to Canada in the first place.

Right, one full month. A full month of boredom and the best hospitality that one could ask for. I honestly don’t know what I am complaining about anymore.

Perhaps I’ll go talk to Luna after this. She looks like she’s been meaning to say something for a bit now. For now, I think I’m going to just sit under this tree and nap.

Journal 18

I Think I’m Getting Fat

I’m not kidding either. This down time and being able to eat full meals has started to put a detriment on my weight. I can’t even see my ribs anymore!

Kidding. But in reality, I don’t know what to make of this. My diet is actually normal and I feel better because of it, yet at the same time I’m not as active as I used to be. Things are starting to annoy me, though not very much, I guess. More like a tingle in the back of my mind.

I’ve started to get a little bit of a routine, nothing really special or exciting though. Honestly sometimes the highlight of my day was sitting under the big tree in one of the yards. I got to be outside and just chill, watching things happen throughout the yard. It made me feel like I was perched on the rocky outcroppings again, waiting for something to happen.

Moving on.

The weapons have been getting dusty as well, or at least were until last week. Luna and Celestia wanted to visit Sparklebutt in her home down in the town you can see from the city gates. Yeah, I’m not going anywhere near the name of that place.

Oh, and speaking of city gates, before I go on about my trip, they let me finally wander the city earlier this month. Had some fancy conference to tell ponies that I was not a threat and all of that political bull. Sure, I was a threat, not to ponies, but to those who needed a bullet in the brain. Either way, it was nice to be able to see what the city actually was like. I had only really known Shady Sands and New Vegas, so this was a nice change of pace. It felt a little homely, but there were still stuck up fucks like in any city that had any wealth.

Anyway, getting back to my trip to horribly named town, it was actually a nice change of pace. Honestly, I like the town aside from the name, especially since all of the inhabitants were extremely friendly. Like to the point it was a little creepy. Though at least they weren’t actively avoiding me like in Canterlot.

Now, I know Luna has said otherwise and has specifically warned me about certain word usages. Something about ‘summoning the greatest evil of this modern time,’ which was more nonsense in my opinion, but I wouldn’t let that stop me from writing it.

Pinkie Pie is crazy. Like … I’m not even sure how to describe it, but it’s not an evil or insane crazy. More like No-Bark and his wild stories crazy, which honestly was completely fine in my books. There needed to be more people like those two, at least they were always able to lighten the mood even when you didn’t need it.

Still, she tried to throw me a party right then and there I think, but there is a good chance I’ve thrown her off for now (which had been a week so far) when I mentioned alcohol. She just gasped and disappeared, never to return my entire trip, which was a three day thing, mind you.

Getting off track here; which apparently is very easy for me. The first day there was all about meeting new faces and seeing new sights. I wouldn’t get to do what I wanted until the next day, but that was fine by me, I needed it and could wait another day. So I met the rest of the cast that were there when I first threw up on the marble (the second time was only in the presence of a few guards, mind you).

There was Diamonds (not her real name, but she did like the nickname), Fluttershy, a double rainbow, and Applejack. Diamonds was alright, but a little up tight, kind of like the White Glove Society but not cannibalistic. Applejack was the closest thing you could ever get to a literal cowboy, except the wrong species and gender, but whatever. The double rainbow was odd since it seemed to move everywhere. I didn’t think rainbows could do that, nor did I expect them to take a swing at my head when I started to question the others. No doubt Arcade would have had a hell of a time trying to explain this out of everything. Then there was Fluttershy … honestly she was too timid for me. She didn’t necessarily hide from me, but apparently some stories I told Sparklebutt had gotten out and she was rather wary.

Ehh, whatever. Like I said, my main reason for being here was to put a few rounds down range and let off some steam.

I did meet some other interesting ponies around town, a pair of musicians that bickered like a married couple. They were also the first lesbian couple I had seen in a few years … not including Veronica and that one time she managed to get into Cass’ pants. Either way, watching two ponies kiss was a little awkward.

Then there was a green mare who literally looked grossed out by me. She at least said hi but quickly fled with her harp. Ehh, can’t wing them all. A few other ponies here and there, but not many really stood out for me … not including that one that had more muscles than a deathclaw. Fucking freaky!

Right, skipping ahead to the good part.

Apparently Sparklebutt didn’t tell her friends what I was doing here other than getting out of Canterlot. So they definitely were surprised when it was show time.

Went out to the middle of apple heaven, literally apples everywhere! Anyway, Sparklebutt had apparently done some prep and had a few targets set out at short range, medium range, and what she thought was long range. I laughed at the last one, but said we would deal with it when it came time.

Every pony but the three Princesses were curious at what we were doing, and Applejack began bickering with the double rainbow, which only had me even more confused as to what she was talking about. How could she compete against something that was made of light and water droplets or something like that?

Whatever.

So I took out Maria and put a quick few shots into the closest bag, before pausing for a second. I swear I could almost hear the cries of surprise from the ponies before I unloaded the rest into the target.

Let me tell you, that caused a nice little chewing out by pretty much every single one of them. The ones out of the loop, in terms of what we were doing, were yelling about what I was doing. The ones in the loop were yelling at me for not warning them. Honestly, you can’t please anyone.

So I gave them a basic rundown on guns, how they worked, and why to never walk in front of me for the duration of this time. I think I let Sparklebutt down a little by not fully explaining the mechanisms, but for once, I did not care at all. I was here for my sake, not hers.

Did I mention that she brought out cases of ammo? Yeah, in a little under a month she had fabricated more ammo for me to use, and had apparently tested it to make sure it wouldn’t do the one thing I would probably strangle her for. I was hesitant at first, but when the first round fired from Maria without a problem, I breathed easier before proceeding to up the ante in terms of gun handling.

Took the All American for a spin for the first time since the Dam, and boy did it feel good to have the gun kick into my shoulder again. It felt nearly orgasmic … yeah I’m fucked, okay? Anyway, it felt awesome to be able to fire off a full magazine into a target and shred it completely. According to Luna later, the  display was awe inspiring and yet full of fear. I never did look back at the rest except for to tell Twilight her long target was short.

She bitched and moaned about how her tests confirmed that that was the suitable range for a point three-oh-eight round. I just laughed and told her to place it at a mile and a half. It was also at that moment I learned that ponies didn’t use the same measurement system as us, but apparently some race did. Also I found out she could nearly immediately calculate the mile to ‘kilometer’ (whatever that is) conversion in her head. Damn good work, Sparklebutt.

I got into a nice prone shooting position, and worked out a few calculations of my own, which Boone had taught me, which was made easier by Sparklebutt telling me the wind speed and elevation. She then blathered on about ignoring the double rainbow, but I paid her no heed, it wasn’t that special anymore.

Honestly the best part of the day was telling her to shut her trap before putting a round through the bullseye on the target. Sure, shooting off the follow up shots were fun, but to hear her stumble over her words was rather fulfilling.

After teaching the double rainbow to shoot, and yes, I did know she was a pony the entire time, using some weird utensil Sparklebutt cooked up, we called it a night more or less. And that was the highlight of the month.

Yeah … I was starting to feel better. As well it seemed that the castle wasn’t as cramped anymore. Maybe it was starting to feel homely, finally.

Journal 20

Last Entry

I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to leave Canterlot, leave Equestria, leave society once more. So this will be my last entry in the journal before I leave it in the capable hooves of Celestia and Luna. They’ll take good care of it for now.

Yeah, it was hard to tell them about what I decided to do, but they took it really well. In fact, they seemed to think it might have been for the best, especially with the way I was lately. It seems that they had reached the same conclusion that I did; I was too fucking mopey and bored. Still, even though they encouraged it, I explained my reasoning and my plan.

At first, they seemed to be a little nervous about where I decided to go. Apparently the Unclaimed Lands weren’t the most hospitable and the closest town was actually twenty miles from where The Unclaimed Lands officially started. Ehh, I’ve had worse. As long as there was game and plants out there, I could live; and yes, there should be, according to all the books on the subject.

Honestly, I was a little relieved to hear them express that they wished the best for me and would help me continue my journey in finding myself. I expected this long winded speech on how I couldn’t go out there, or that after nearly six months here I couldn’t just abandon the place. I also expected a rather large guilt trip, but none of it came.

Great.

Anyway, I leave tomorrow, so I guess I should get some sleep tomorrow. Sure, I’ll be taking the train again but still … didn’t want to begin another journey on the wrong foot.

Actually, you know what … I’m going to write for a little more. Maybe a goodbye note, in a way.

Though I fucking hate saying goodbyes, they always felt too finite for my liking and never felt right. I always told those who I met, “until I see you again,” or something to that same effect. That way nothing was ever finished completely. Hell, I said that to the gang back in New Vegas before I left. They knew that even I could die at any given day. So I always made sure that my last words were never of completion.

Fuck, I missed them sometimes. I never wrote about it, but I would often find myself thinking about New Vegas and the crew at nights. Gave me more than one night of restless sleep. I mean, I knew deep down that they would be alright, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but worry for everything.

This is not the set of thoughts I wanted to write before leaving, but since we were already on this train, let’s go all the fucking way.

I’ve regretted a lot in my life. More regrets than people should be allowed to deal with, but that is the problem with being a man forced into decisions that make or break history. It wasn’t just the whole Mojave deal that caused regrets, or even my past with The Divide. No, it seems that the oldest memory I have is full of regret. Leaving my mom to join a caravan at an early age, never seeing her again and instead coming home to a ruined house years later. No note, no people left behind to tell me what happened.

Was she killed? Did she move? I’ll never fucking know, now.

Then this whole Mojave issue … the fucking mess that was left in hands that wouldn’t even be capable of holding a child. Retarded sons of bitches laying waste to people’s lives in order to better gain what they desired. Should have fucking nuked both sides … that way I would ensure the Mojave never got touched by that again.

No, that’s not right. Not right at all.

I wonder how many times I can run my hands through my hair before I start pulling it out from all of these thoughts.

Whatever, I’m dead to probably enough people as it is. Might as well find a grave somewhere in The Unclaimed Lands that would fitting for me, and one deep enough to not be retrieved from.

No, no, no, no, no!

Fuck, I’ve seriously got to stop talking like this. I’ve been melancholy enough as it is, enough is a fucking-nough!

If I’m going to die then, I’m fucking going out in a blaze of fire no matter what. I will not lie down and die like a fucking coward. I fought the Bull and outmaneuvered the Bear, I will not succumb to bullshit feelings of self doubt.

Luna, Celestia, I know you’re probably reading this or will be at some point. It’s understandable, don’t worry.

Listen, I’m not turning back from this, don’t try and find me, it’ll do you no good. I’ve disappeared before and it will be easy enough to do it again. I just want you two to know that this past half a year has been one of the most serene and pleasing that I’ve experienced. Sure I was restless more often the not, annoying even more so, and a little bit selfish, but I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart I thank you both for giving me a chance to find myself again.

Remember what I put above about not saying goodbyes? I’m going to make a promise, in one year’s time I will return and I’ll bring back stories of how I became the leader of a new nation out there! No matter where I am, or what manner of death has fallen on me, I will return again.

Donec obviam iterum, which hopefully translates to ‘till we meet again.’ I’m not very good with Latin, but you get the point.

I will end this journal with a quote I’ve always held dear to me. Something I once found hidden in a book, buried in the rubble of someone’s house. There wasn’t much left of the book, the scorch marks covered most of it, but out of the few pages that were left, there was a quote in there. A quote I still try to live by … even if it wasn’t always right.

It’s by acts, and not ideas that people live.

Markus Roths aka. The Courier

Chapter 5

]Two years after the Anniversary)

Luna strode through Canterlot Castle, not really aiming to go anywhere, instead just enjoying the act of being able to move her legs. No, she hadn’t been hung up for a week because of an injury or anything that drastic. She had just been sitting on a chair for nearly twelve straight hours, because a number of delegations needed to bring something important to their attention. How her sister could ever stand to hold such things, was beyond Luna.

Luckily, the delegations of the Gryphon, Minotaur, and Zebra empires had been happy with how everything turned out and would most likely not be back the next day. Of course, that was just Luna’s own twist on optimism. No doubt Celestia would have been more than happy to have them back to discuss more, even if it was just to annoy her sister.

“I swear if I hear one more ‘but your majesty!’ I will slap the next face I see,” Luna grumbled as she continued to stretch her legs. To her, that had literally been the entire thing, just delegates complaining and using that same way to address them.

“What about, ‘your mooniness’?” a voice offered from behind her. Her first thought was to turn and snap off at whoever had mentioned that, but she knew better when she confirmed that voice.

“Only if they address you as ‘your skin cancerness,’” Luna shot back, not even needing to look behind her, though she did slow down so her sister could catch up to even with her.

“Please, that was solved years ago with some a little help from non-equestrian sources,” Celestia scoffed. “Besides, it wasn’t hardly a widespread issue.”

“Yeah, only a small issue that had a couple of thousand lives hanging in the balance. Besides, if I remember, we only solved that because you stole one of his ‘Stimpacks’”

“I’m never proud of stealing, you know that Luna … we just needed it more,” Celestia said as she blew Luna a raspberry.

“And ponies wonder why I used to wield the Element of Honesty …” Luna said before taking a left through a set of doors, though the comment caught Celestia off guard enough to essentially ground her to a halt outside said doors.

“Wait … what does that mean?!” Celestia called after Luna, who had picked up her trot a little, all the while guffawing like an elderly Diamond Dog. “Luna!”

She knew that this situation could easily lead to another infamous sisterly fight. Not the same type of fight that had happened when Luna became Nightmare Moon, but instead, more like the one three months ago where scorch marks riddled the castle along with more than a few clumps of fur and mane.

It also lead to a national shortage of whiskey.

So instead of continuing on hoof, with the possibility of Celestia catching up to her, she Blink Teleported to the first place that came to her mind. One thing that was great about Blink Teleportation, was that it was impossible to trace, since it took an insta-cast. Essentially it was just a quick version of a teleport, and only a few high level unicorns had mastered it … outside of alicorns, obviously.

Ironically, the first thing that came to her mind was a rather old tree that was part of the eastern yard of the Castle. It had no real significance of any kind, yet it was always a place where ponies and other species went to just chat and relax. There was something about the massive tree that made anyone feel at home. Luna hadn’t been around when it was planted, and apparently Celestia didn’t even know how it got there, but it was a part of the Castle yard as much as the grass was.

At first she thought about moving from the tree, but the shade that it gave was more than pleasant. It was extremely relaxing, especially since the breeze that had been flowing throughout Canterlot all day was finally hitting her, calming her mind. She needed to do this more often, as the extremely relaxing state was almost putting her to sleep.

She let her eyelids droop a little, resting at half closed, inspecting the yard that was in front of her. The tree wasn’t in the middle of the yard, but closer to the southern corner, hidden by some bushes as to make ponies sitting under it less conspicuous. She could nearly see the entire Eastern yard, considering the Western one was occupied mainly by a maze that was more of a pain than anything. Not to mention the statue garden … which was missing a certain centre piece she would rather have back.

In the distance, closer to the northern wall and the rest of Canterlot, she could make out the small figures of Royal Guard recruits and soldiers going through drills. Closer to where she was, she could see a few members of the castle staff sitting around on break, and even some visitors doing much the same. Most likely enjoying the many areas of flowers that the gardeners had been working on.

Without a doubt, Luna was more than happy sitting under the tree and partaking in the beautiful day that the Canterlot Weather Team had created. She would love to commend them on such an amazing job, but she knew that it would only go to their heads … not to mention there would be a little too many of these days in the future. It almost made Luna wish she had any other job but the one she currently held.

If only life could be so much simpler and not filled with politics.

It was here that Luna decided to take a moment and look back a little. She had come so far in a measly six years after her ‘revival.’ A term she commonly used to refer to the time when she was cleansed of the parasite that was Nightmare Moon.

For the first year, she was more than wary of everything, what with her being gone for nearly a third of her life. Her sister had been extremely understanding in everything, even going out of her way to help Luna acclimate to the modern world. She would bring her about nearly wherever she went, not to mention devoting most of her time to Luna. Sure, there were times when Celestia had to do things, other than help her sister, but during those moments, Celestia had ensured that Luna was always being helped out.

That was also how she got her Night Guards. The bat ponies had died out many years before Luna’s return, much to Luna’s dismay. So, in honour of them and to help Luna, a company of Royal Guard was given a guise in which they took on the form of a Bat Pony. Luna had been more than touched at this gesture, and welcomed them with open legs … forelegs.

The year was capped off with Luna getting the rest of her powers back, after all the time of being re-attached to her moon. That was an issue at first, and Celestia had to keep raising the moon, but once Luna’s magical link returned, it seemed like all was falling into place. She had even made friends with the ponies of Ponyville, though it took a little bit. Either way, the first year was a good start for her.

The second year of Luna’s return was a little better, and it started off with a bang more or less. The Wedding, as everypony knew what wedding it meant, was something that had been a little more stressful than she wanted. Not to mention she had missed the main event, mainly because she was rallying the Night Guard throughout Canterlot in order to save ponies. With all of the fun, she nearly missed the entire wedding, but ended up catching the after party.

Then there was the Crystal Empire … Luna was still fuming about not being allowed to handle it. In the end, she could see the reason why as it set the precedent for Twilight becoming a Princess, but at the same time, she would have eradicated every single trace of Sombra without a moments hesitation. She wouldn’t have needed the Crystal Heart either, at least that was how she saw it.

The third year was even more eventful, what with Tirek trying to destroy Equestria, and most importantly, The Courier showed up. It annoyed Celestia to no end, that Luna constantly dismissed the Tirek situation as less important than Marcus’ arrival.

Luna flinched at that thought, she loved and hated using that name. It hurt her to no end, because it would always remind her of her friend in a much more meaningful way than if she just said ‘The Courier.’ She had cried enough when he left, she didn’t need to cry anymore.

Honestly, these past three years had gone by faster than Luna could blink. It seemed like nothing of importance happened for her, or Canterlot, with Ponyville being the main centre of attraction. Minus the really odd rebellion that Twilight had crushed, everything in Equestria was normal. Completely normal, and it annoyed Luna a bit.

She wanted to do something other than sit on her rump each day and do her job. She wanted to re-explore the world, enjoy time with her friends … search for her lost friend. Perhaps in a few years time she could take a sabbatical and do just that.

“It is a nice place here, isn’t it, your highness?” A male voice spoke from her right.

Being too relaxed to be surprised, Luna just kept looking forward as she answered, “it is, almost too relaxing, Planner.”

“Is there such a thing?” He countered, to which Luna just shook her head and smiled. She was happy that over the past two years, she had gotten him to loosen up and be less formal with her. Though it was a little bit of a rough ride in doing so.

“No, Planner … no there isn’t,” Luna responded before rising sluggishly to her hooves. “So what brings you over here?”

“I’ve come to inform you that a visitor has come to see you and your sister,” Planner spoke evenly as they made their way from the shady spot.

“Another visitor? Gah, this day couldn’t drag on any more could it? Who is it now? A delegation from the Eastern Dragon Clans? Perhaps the Gryphons have sent another ambassador? Or have the Diamond Dogs return to surrender again to ‘the whiny pony’ whoever that is?!”

“No, none of those, your majesty,” Planner said, just as they were getting to a set of doors leading back into the castle. “They merely stated, they wished to fulfil a promise.”

Luna’s eyes shot open before twitching violently. She didn’t know whether Planner was playing a joke on her, or that he was telling the truth. She whipped her head to the side and down, before coming nose to nose with Planner, who just gave her a flat look that telegraphed the saying ‘do you think I’m kidding?’

What happened in the next moment, shattered all ten of the glass windows within fifty meters, nearly blew out Planner’s eardrums, and caused multiple Royal Guardsponies to assume their stations as if there was an attack on the palace.

The moment following that had Luna bolting down the halls all the while, a substantially lower squee emanating from the Night Princess. She was probably headed off in the direction of her sister, or at least where she thought her sister was.

Planner just stood there for a few moments before a grin crept across his muzzle. He loved being the herald of good news, and this would more than likely get him a raise. After a few moments of grinning, he slowly trotted down the halls, all the while whistling a jovial tune.

Well, at least in his head it was one. Being half deaf came with a price.

Journal 6

Never Again

Never. Again.

Fuck, I don’t even know what to write here. There is indeed a hell, a place where all of your nightmares become true.

A city built for the lingering souls of the dead. The Sierra Madre was hell.

For all the horrors I faced, for all the deaths that came before me, and most importantly for those I met trapped there, I killed Elijah and took everything he wanted. Well, killed might be a strong word.

With the help of my boot, I persuaded him to stay in that vault forever. Of course, I took my fair share of what was in it first. It was fun dragging four hundred pounds of gold out of the hotel, of course it was more fun dragging it back to the Mojave.

Luckily I was able to pay off a Prospector to share the burden and no gold bars were lost, just a bunch of those star caps. The guy probably would realise the folly in them once he got to the warehouse.

I hope that never again will a soul find their way to The Sierra Madre, for no matter who is there, it is a blight on the land.

Journal 19

I Don’t Know

I’m going to try and keep this one short. Looking back on my previous journals, it truly is amazing at how much I changed over the years. I went from an innocent courier, to a hate filled killer, and finally to a rather calm retiree. What drastic changes over the years … and it only made me wonder how much more I could possibly change. Was this the last stage in my life, or was I going to keep on morphing back and forth between serenity and anger?

Five months it has been? Yeah, five is the right number. I nearly forgot about the journal, instead just opting to spend each day in a an almost ‘like this is your last day’ type of living. Sure, I didn’t go out and do crazy things, but at least i enjoyed it.

Now though … I’ve began to think again. Began to question stuff once more. Nothing with regards to these ponies, but more with regards to myself. Something I’ll need to think about before I can officially say I am at peace and hang up my weapons.

I guess the melancholy has been showing though, since Luna has been hanging around me more. Gal is nice, thinking something’s wrong and coming to help. I felt bad for pushing her away a few times but honestly, I didn’t want her to catch a case of inner questioning. Shit ruins people.

Still, wish it wasn’t now of all times that she got all cuddly. Did you know that pony fur is extremely soft? Like the best pillow you’ve ever been able to lay your head on.

And enough of that.

I think I have a plan for what to do. It’ll take some planning, but for the most part I could execute it immediately. We’ll see. We will see.