Fallout Equestria Broken Roads

Terminal:

Click, click, click, click, click. Day in, and day out, that's all I hear. The raping of hooves beating keyboards. Click, click, clickity click, click. It's enough to make a pony wanna take the nearest

Paladin’s side arm and blow their brains out. The green glow slowly eating away at your mind. Not that I don't love computers, I really do! But being forced to sit in front of them day in, and day out. Reading old pre war data files, looking for anything useful the Steel Rangers could use. It's not too bad, but when you read the ones from the day... It Happened.

 I insert the holodisc and press the play button. "Oh my Celestia, she is dead!" I hear a young filly crying in the background as this older mare speaks. "I thought it was just a drill! I was closing the bar, and... And... I'm sorry Colgate... Lyra, if you get this... Celestia; I hope you don't, because that means you made it, but if you do, we are heading to Marapony." Just a load of static after that. That's how most of these are. Just ponies crying for help from 200 years ago. I open the notes program and add a new note.

[Population: 1 day after war; Marapony plus two residents. Mare, and foal.]

Why keep track of the long dead? The Steel Rangers are trying to keep records of everything. Why? I don't know. I asked why once... Never did it again. Thrashings hurt.

Oh ah, Name? ... Terminal. Yeah, kinda shit, and no, I wasn't named after the computers. I was named terminal because I was supposes to die as a foal. I became violently ill after I was born; I wouldn't cry, eat, sleep, and I was as small as a hoof. So I was never really named. I was stuck in a incubator and labeled as terminal. A few days later they pulled the plug and were about to dump what they thought was a dead foal into the incinerator. As my mom held me over the chute she noticed a small noise over the roar of the flames, her foal was crying. It was a light, almost silent cry, but I had a pulse.

 I never grew to be as big as other ponies; I'm about the size of a normal mare, which would be ok... If I wasn't a stallion. My coat is a simple lime green, with a dark green mane and tail... Noticing a pattern? Care to guess my eye color? Did you guess green? You would be right. I'm green all over. Kinda fits my name. My cutie mark? A terminal.

Yeah, so a pretty rough life, cushiony compared to most, but I would prefer to be stuck outside in the wasteland than rotting in this place. I still try to keep myself happy by making cute pictures on the terminals using the keyboards. ((0-0)/) ... I never said I was creative... But I keep my sanity. I keep smiling, I keep alive. Click, click, click, click.

Ennis:

Click, click, click.

"Shit. I'm out of ammo!"

"Watch out, Ennis!"

I watched horrified as my father pushes me aside and takes a bullet for me...

"Dad..."

I jump up on the old mattress in an attack pose, ready to strike at the memory of the Raiders. My blue coat is full of sweat, and my black mane is a mess. I reach up and rub my forehead, right under my horn.

"Don't lose yourself" I start to speak to myself. "Just push the memories out... It's over, it's done with. Crying won't bring him back. Maybe tomorrow I'll look for a new job." I look towards the window. "Oh, it is tomorrow." I pack my saddlebags, and fix my mane, quickly washing myself in the sink. "Good morning, sunshine." I pick up my rifle, and sling it over my shoulder. "Ready for fun?" I raise my ear. "Oh, you’re all out of food? Well, I'll pick you up some nice .307s."

Don't judge me... It's a special gun.

Chip Crisp:

I drag the heavy plow though the soil, pulling the fresh life giving nutrients to the surface. I look out at the bright green field.

"Um... Sir?"

I look over to my newest hired farm hand, A young colt whose name I didn't know yet.

"Can I help you sunny boy?"

"Ah... Should you be plowing?"

"Why can't I? It's my farm ain't it?"

"But sir, you’re old enough to be in the retirement village."

I continue to pull as we talk.

"Do you wanna try and pull the plow? Or Davy field? Think he could pull this heavy thing? The supply must meet the demand. Till I drop, I'll pull this plow."

"But sir, what will we do without you if you did... Drop?"

"Twilight asked me herself for this delivery."

Fun fact, or so twilight told me, potatoes are natural absorbers, and containers of magic. She also tried to tell me about how she was going to genetically change them to uh... Work in the mechanical doohickeys to let them keep a charge. I understood that bit. She also said she needed over three tons for a special project. I tried to ask, and she just giggled, saying it would change the war. A lot of ponies make that promise, very little change has actually happened.

I just hope I live to see this war end.

"Just get back to work, sonny. We are almost done."

"Sir... We finished that order last month"

What? No... It's Monday right? But no...

"Oh... Right." I straightened up, and unhooked myself. " just a little memory slip."

The foal just stared at me with a funny look.

Oh... I do know his name.

I look at the full grown stallion I once saw as a foal.

"Hey, sprout."

"Hey Dad... I think we should talk."

"You’re not sending me to a home."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

I pull him into a tight hug. "I'm not ok." I feel him crying into my chest. "I'm a grown stallion, I know I raised you right. Don't make me give up my farm."

"Dad, you know I could handle it!"

"I know son, but I'm just not ready t--"

And then life as we knew it ended. Bombs fell onto the lives of ponies. I wish I could say I joined my sons, and daughter in the afterlife... But I had a fate much worse. My skin peeled, my potato cutie mark disappeared, my mane and tail fell out over time. I died, without Dying.