Fallout: Equestria - Triage

Chapter I – I don't need your war machines

Records is the halfway point city between Baltimare and Stalliongrad. Takes its name from all the musical records found in it. Seemed like, when everything was going to the end, someone decided to seal into the city bank's vault all the records they could find around. Goes to show how the Baltimare region was the cultural and social hubris of Equestria, before the megaspells shower. Although, it wasn't that appreciated during war-time.

Most of the musicians of the reign were born in this region, encouraged by the environment, the biggest commercial port in all of Equestria, and it shores, even if only a few genres ever left it. Tourism was one of the region's main sources of income. It created a melting pot of cultures and, more dangerous in time of war, opinions. Most of the anti-war sentiment came from Baltimare and the surrounding region, spearheaded by the many bands of 'alternative music', which immediately became 'dissident' once the Ministry of Image set hoof in the region. It made those who didn't relent immediately become underground bands. They still kept on making their own kind of music, risking prison. A few bands actually got arrested and put away for their efforts.

'Huuu! What's this place, mistah Tombstone?!'It also was the nearest town to Stable 43's location. As I walked through the main road, I felt Roxy's 'head' shuffle from side to side as she 'looked' at the many colorful neon signs and shop windows. Quite a show in the night, I have to admit. Especially if you're a young plant... Filly... Philly? Yeah, that works. A young philly that's never left her Stable before. 'Pretty lights! Pwetty colours!'

“Yeah, yeah. Pretty.” I still had to get used to having a sentient plant hanging all over me. She may have been 'shut-uppy' when I needed my rest, but after that she had been a torrent of questions about anything she 'saw'. Which bore the question. “Roxy, I was wondering, how are you able to 'see'? I mean, you don't have eyes.” Cue a couple of mares looking at me like I had grown a second head. I still had to get used to just 'think' my questions to the red blossom, and the fact that I was wearing a plant didn't help my condition. I smiled. They ran. I groaned.

'Hmm... Roxy doesn't know. I just... Do?' The petals tickled my neck. I shivered.

“Okay.” 'Guess it wouldn't be that easy.' Not that I had expected a long winded exposure of her physiology, but at least knowing how her body worked/felt. No such luck. I stopped in front of the 'Nuzzle'n'Cuddle'. “Alright. We're staying here for tonight. Be a dear and stay shut uppy for a little?”

'O-kay!' Her enthusiasm was a welcome change, I must admit. She marveled at every new thing she laid eyes-I know, let it go-on. I gripped the knob with my mouth and opened the door. The place hadn't change much since the last time I'd been there. Still clean, with that single flickering light-bulb which they never substitute on purpose. Creates atmosphere. The bar was crowded,but not excessively chaotic. I hoped they had rooms, though.

"Howdy, stranger." A white unicorn mare with a chiffon mane greeted me as I walked in, just as her horn flashed with bright yellow light. The row of glasses and bowls in front of her shone for an instant and then began to sparkle. Clean as a whistle. "Hmm... Maybe not a stranger? You look familiar."

"Not as familiar as I'd like to be, sadly. But the night's young." She raised an eyebrow but chuckled as I took a seat, throwing my head back, hat falling off. "Been around here before. Couple months ago."

"That must be it. I wasn't working the bar yet, though. Otherwise..." She was staring at my mane and tail. Everyone does at the beginning. The white among all the black. "I'd remember you."

"Tombstone's the name."

"I'm LemonFresh." I chuckled. "That's a nice flower."

"Of course you are. And thanks." I glanced in the direction of her flank, taking in her cutie mark: a half lemon against a splash of water. I placed a hoof on the counter. "Get me something to drink?"

"Tequilamb good? We've got grand reserve." I nodded and she put her magic to work. I looked around. No one was even glancing my way. Just as I liked it. Even if I had a flower on my shoulder. That must have gotten me a glance, but no more. Flowers weren't that uncommon in the southwest, after all.

"Hey, Fresh! Turn on the radio, will you?!" A dark brown stallion suddenly shouted from the other end of the room. "It's almost time for Mister AirWave!"

"On it, Chisel!" She was perfectly able of multitasking. Still pouring me my drink, she turned on the device resting on her right. As static cleared, a glass full of amber-coloured liquid gently landed in front of me. "There you go, 'stranger'."

"Much obliged." I raised the glass to my lips, enjoying the burning sensation. I smiled mid-drink as I recognized the record playing at the radio. "The live version of the overture from the Marriage of Figatrot."

"Wow. You know your music, don't you?" LemonFresh commented, surprised. I just shrugged my shoulders and returned to my drink. After a couple minutes, the music ended and the suave voice of a stallion replaced it.

"Hello, Baltimare. You sure look beautiful tonight. Again, a red sunset has passed, leaving you shrouded in the dark night-sky, punctuated by the glittering stars, objects of many omens from our striped neighbours. Yes, you are beautiful, Baltimare... And yet, I wish your pretty visage was devoid of the sky." I had heard of the guy and his program, but never really had a chance to sit down and actually listen until that day. “You've recognized Octavia, and her friends. This was her masterpiece, played live first and last at the fund-raising concert for peace. I play this record at least once a day. Why, you ask, Baltimare? Because you must never forget.” I instinctively turned in the direction of the radio. A sentiment shared by everyone in the room, I noticed. “Octavia had it all. She played annually at the Grand Galloping Gala with her band, her compositions remain to this day of the best in the Lyrical Genre. And yet, that concert was her fall. Because she wished for peace. Because that concert was to raise funds for refugees both zebra and pony. Because she dared, although indirectly, propose that zebra civilians deserved pity. That diplomacy wasn't a chimera. Of course, the Ministry of Image couldn't have that. Luna couldn't have that.”

'I see where he is going.' He had everybody's attention in the room, and I bet in the whole Baltimare region. I already inquired that Mister AirWave wasn't just a DJ. In tone with Baltimare's history.

“Octavia was disgraced. She lost her fame, her reputation, her music was put on the black list of the MoI. The day of the megaspells, she was living in some hole in Hoffington. All because she wished for peace, because she saw another way. She was alone in her downfall, but she wasn't alone in her fight. Music, painting, theater, literature. Following Octavia's concert and subsequent disgrace, the anti-war sentiment exploded. There's a reason why Baltimare is the region with the most 'corrective interventions' from the MoI. Even underground, the movement continued strong. And when the megaspells fell, we were proven right! Not a balefire spell detonated in all of Baltimare! We still got the fallout, the radiations from Hoofington and Canterlot washing over us, killing plants, mutating animals, but Baltimare still stands proud!” The brown buck from before and a few others were actually stomping their hooves. Mister AirWave took a pause. He knew it would happen. “But Mister AirWave, you might ask. Isn't that because Zebra still occupy Stalliongrad to this day? Isn't it because they wanted not to kill their own? Why, it's a legitimate question, Baltimare. I answer you with a little lesson of history: Stalliongrad had been outfitted for a siege, for the siege that ultimately took it. It's completely self-sufficient and possesses a Protector-Class magical shield. No megaspell or radiation could have penetrated it. If they so willed, the zebras could have sealed Stalliongrad up watched us burn. Or lay the offensive on us once the magical radiations washed away. Instead? Instead they trade. Instead they opened up Stalliongrad's factories! 75% of the Chems, Medicine and food in Baltimare comes from Stalliongrad, while the Steel Wank-Oh, I'm sorry. They go by Applejack now, don't they? Still, they holed up in Throttingam, and then came out in droves, scouring Baltimare for technology that is 'rightfully theirs'! Now they say that they've changed, that they want to help! Well, want to know my opinion? Of course you are, you're listening to my program. Well, Mister AirWave says 'I don't buy it!' and adds 'Too late, assholes!'!”

I chuckled, while most of the bar now was stomping hooves and cheering. Some passerby outside had stopped at the door to listen in. No one seemed to care. 'Mistah Tombstone, what's an axwhole?' I did right there. 'Ehm, later, Roxy.' Of all the questions to break the shutuppy with.

"Eighteen months ago, the sun came back, following a chain of events that cleaned the rest of Equestria from most of their threats, messing up our home, in return! Alicorns, the Reds, Hellhounds, Raiders! Enclave civil war! Goddesses know what else has made its way in Baltimare, drove off the East and the north by 'the heroic efforts of the Stable Dweller and the Security Mare'. News Flash, ladies: you did a half assed job! And now the AJ Wankers and this New Canterlot Republic make talks of peace, make a new Equestria, retake Stalliongrad, a common effort for the future from their outpost in Throttingam. But we need a new Canterlot like we needed Hellhounds! We don't want your peace, you overbearing twats, like we didn't want your war! Baltimare will stand proud and thrive on its own!" Loudest cheers of the evening, and Mister AirWave sounded like he'd need a minute to catch his breath. "We didn't forget, did we, Baltimare? And Mister AirWave is here to help you remember, with my friends The Guest Hoof, who still warn you about the dreadful 'Canterlot Mare."

Music started playing. I hummed the music, replaying the lyrics in my head. 'Canterlot Mare. Stay away from me.' It was quickly going to turn into happy hour, there. Best conclude before the bar-mare became too busy. "I'll also need a room for the-Ah!" As I turned around, my hat brushed against the glass, knocking it off the counter. Canterlot Mare acquired 'Crap' in its lyrics, inbetween 'trotting' and 'outside my door'.

'Roxy got it!' Before I could ask what she meant, the vine which had been resting against my left side suddenly stretched out and with a loud 'snap' latched around the glass just before it impacted the ground.

"... Damn." I let out, astonished. Sure, I had seen that happen in the Stable, but it had been sudden, and quick, and most of all, controlled. There wasn't a crack in the glass, and only a little Tequilamb had spilled.

"Wow." LemonFresh let out as Roxy set the glass back on the table, returning the vine back on my barding. Then, she smiled maliciously. "Kinky."

"To be honest, I didn't know it could do that. So no, I don't use it the way you think I do." I rolled my eyes, and then smiled suggestively. "I know a few other tricks, though."

"Hmm, do you?" She sauntered over to the counter, moving her muzzle to my left ear. "Tell you what, I have a free room right next to my own. What do you say we talk about it over dinner?" I chuckled. I have a theory why my attempts at diplomacy suck: all my competence and luck go into talking with mares.

-I-

"... You weren't boasting."

"Weren't bad yourself." She chuckled and nuzzled my neck as we both laid on our side. "Good work with keeping quiet."

"Have to learn to be silent, running an Inn and all." I rolled my eyes at that.

"He's away for trade?" I clearly remembered the owner of the place being a stallion. And the glimpse I caught of her room showed a worksaddle two times her size.

"... Yes." She bit on her lower lip, feeling caught. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"No way. You have some good Tequilamb." I answered truthfully. Wasn't the first time I slapped flanks with someone busy, wasn't going to be the last. I preferred them, to tell the truth. Less chance of emotional baggage. Wasn't looking for a bond. Not even pure pleasure, just... Physical closure, you know? I actually enjoy cuddling. "Also, your cleaning magic is awesome."

"Doesn't even leave the smell. Half of the reason why he took me in." I suspected that counter had seen its fair share of unintended usage. She ran a hoof gently on my flank. "So, what's your story, Tombstone?"

"What makes you think I have one?" I enjoy pillow talk too, but I'm not too keen on personal questions.

"Well, your flower, for one." She got me there. "Your rifle, for another." I followed her gaze as it fell on my saddle. The silver barrel poked out of the weapon pouch, along with the onyxbutt. "It's not broken, is it? You put it together. And I've never seen one made out of gemstones, before."

"Just the butt." I lingered my own gaze on the part for a while longer. "Its name is Bond."

"Mysterious. Has any particular meaning?"

Yes. "No." I shifted and laid my head squarely on the pillow. "Better get some sleep, owner. I have to hit the road and you have to run an Inn."

"Hmm... Then, for the road?" Her hoof slithered down. I bit the inside of my cheek. Uncomfortable questions aside, the night ended on a high note.

-I-

'And, like, Roxy doesn't get it. I was shut uppy because you looked like you were having fun, but I couldn't really see.' Waking up was a nightmare. Apparently, even if we bid each other 'Good Night', Roxy doesn't really sleep. Doesn't need to, doesn't know how to. As such, she had seen. And now she was curious. And as such, I felt doomed.

"... We were... Sweating. Yeah." I let out. "To exercise. And you need friends of sweat to sweat. So... We were sweating. That's what we did."

'Oooh... Then, can I be friends with mistah Tombstone too?!' I gagged on air.

"N-No! Only grown ups can be friends of sweat!" I shouted. Hello, awkward silence and staring citizens of Records. I grumbled, head held low as I trotted by.

'Awww... Okie.' She gave up. My sanity thanked her. Quick change of subject. Something I was actually interested in.

'Roxy, how strong are you?' I asked her, remembering last night's incident with the glass. 'What you did last night was cool, you know?'

'Tee-hee!' She went. 'Thanks, mistah Tombstone. But what do you mean strong?'

'How big of a thing can you lift, right now?' I remembered the feats from the Stable, but Roxy had a lot more vines, thicker too.

'Hmm, if I tried real hard I could probably lift mistah Tombstone if I used both my vines.' I nodded to no one in particular as I reached my intended destination. The old Records shooting gallery, one of the many abandoned buildings of Records. Like AirWave said, it had stayed intact, but radiations washout brought by the megaspells detonated in the other regions nonetheless thinned out the population, caused mutations in ponies, animals, plants. There simply weren't enough ponies for all the buildings and occupations. The ones which weren't taken care of slowly succumbed to time and decay, and a shooting gallery didn't scream priority. Didn't mean it wasn't being used, though.

Moving through the lobby, I passed by a series of lockers, most of which had been busted and emptied of their contents, except for a few sturdier looking ones. Higher ordnance, probably for VIP members of the gallery. Oh, they had tried to break into them, but sported only a few dents for their efforts. "Hmm." I noticed a series of cables in a crack of a floor tile, running from the cluster of lockers to a counter at the other end of the room. A terminal rested on it. Trotting over to the appliance, I turned it on. Password protected.

"And our winner is... Bullseye." The options had many letters in common, and seeing the place the terminal rested in... Success. Open lockers, terminal logs, a balance-keeping software. A sharp metallic noise echoed in the room. I then started browsing through the logs. It wasn't a regular diary, but a few annotations of peculiar or special events for the owner, one such TwinPins. One caught my attention.

I can't. Believe it. Best day ever! I mean, the best day before that was when the singer of the System of a Flank became a regular at my gallery! I didn't recognize him at first! I only did when he gave me a document for the registration! He was actually impressed that I knew his real name! BlackSky was impressed! BY ME! But that wasn't the best day ever, no. The best day ever was today, when THE WHOLE BAND came in here to shoot! The note ended with an audio file. A recorded squeal. And suddenly I was really eager to check those VIP lockers. System of a Flank was one of my favourites pre-war bands. I trotted over, and was disappointed to find most of them empty, except for the one nearest to the door leading to the shooting range outside. It contained a NSFW magazine, a gun, two boxes of ammo and a silver orb big as an apple. I frowned. It was at times like those that I wished I was an unicorn. I still picked everything. The memory orb and the magazine would be good for trade, and the gun had kept well. It packed 9mm bullets with a twelve bullets magazine. It was modified for less rebound. I smirked. Perfect. “Roxy, I want to teach you something, now.”

'Yay! What is it?!' I stepped outside. The targets had seen their fair share of use, and I could see a few others laying in heaps a bit all over the place, in various states of damage.

"Alright. See this, here?" I grabbed onto my revolver with my teeth, setting it on the ground in front of me. Roxy's petals shuffled. I had her attention. "This is called a gun. I want to teach you to use it."

'Oh.' I bet she recognized it from when I cracked one of her vines in half. 'I don't wike it very much. It made me hurtie.'

"I know. But that's what guns are for." Was I really going to discuss guns ethics to a plant? Yes, I was. "To hurt other ponies."

'Eeeeh?! But that's bad!'

"I know. But sometimes, if you don't hurt them first, they will hurt you-Look, it's complicated. Point is, there are bad ponies and other dangerous things in the Wasteland." My neck itched as I said that. I raised a hoof to it as I sat down. "And if I don't hurt them before they hurt me... I go still."

'Huu... Roxy doesn't really get it, but I don't want mistah Tombstone to go still.' She shuddered around my barding. Good girl. 'How does Roxy use it?'

"Okay. See that curve thing? That's the trigger. Grab the gun and raise it, but don't press on the trigger yet." The right vine slowly crawled across the ground and around the grip and trigger, raising it effortlessly. "Good. Now, you aim and squeeze the trigger and-"

'Wut does 'aim' mean?' Damn you, lexicon.

"It means... Well, you point the part with the hole at what you want to hurt and pull the trigger."

'Aaah... What should Roxy aim at, then?' I raised my gaze from the ground to the target. I thought about asking Roxy to try and hit the bullseye, but thought that it would be too much to-The gun went off above my head. The target sported a new hole, right in the bullseye. I raised my head to stare at Roxy's vine holding the still smoking gun. 'I did it!' She did, showing quite the marksmanship. But what had really thrown me for a ride was that I hadn't told her to do that, nor thought it. I had just pictured an image of the bullseye.

"Roxy, it's not my thoughts only you can see, then?" She shuffled.

'Nu-hu. I can also see sounds, and pictures, and everything, but I never do that. I only did now.' That made me curious. I asked her why. 'Cause mistah Tombstone can't. It wouldn't be fair.' Right then. I had the sudden urge to hug her. I opted for making her practice some more.

-I-

In the end, I discovered how much I had lucked out with Roxy. She was sentient, she could provide me with clean water ad infinitum, she didn't need to be cared for, her vines were prehensile and she was quite a good shot. She had a bit of a problem with rebound, having little mass. I decided I would keep using my revolver, and let her use the modified 9mm which I dubbed BlackSky, and another weapon. That was why I was heading for the local weapon shop, Stripes&Stripes. Owned by a zebra, but that was no surprise. Most of the new weapons in Baltimare came from Stalliongrad, and as such most of the shops were owned by zebra merchants. I spent the walk juggling a repeating rifle or a sawed off shotgun. “Hmm... We have enough long to mid range ordinance... Shotgun it is.” As I was about to enter...

“Oh, come on! They got to be worth more than that!” It made me pause, but just a second. Even if not on Roxy's levels, I am curious.

“Cliens, it is a fair price. I cannot pay you more.” As the door creaked open, I laid eyes on a middle-aged zebra -the quickest way to tell a zebra's age is by their stripes, the thinner the older- calmly disgussing buy-out prices with... “These weapons are damaged and battle-weary. I am simply paying your their price in scrap metal and repair parts.”

“DustClops... He's right.” The green unicorn mare I shot the previous morning, having exchanged the uniform of the Reds for simple leather armor, tried to reason with the buck I had sent flying with my rear hooves, his clothes having been similarly substituted. He was also wearing a red piece of cloth around his head, in a headband.

“Hnngh... Alright, alright. 200 caps, then.” He groaned and turned around defeated, while the unicorn lifted the bag of bottlecaps with her magic. “I swear, our luck took a turn for the worse this last-Ghk.” He laid eyes on me and froze. The mare -Verdant, I remembered- followed his gaze and gasped softly, the bottlecaps frozen in magic right beside her head.

“... Yo. Looking good.” They followed me as I walked past them and to the zebra. With their eyes only. “Morning. I was looking for a shotgun.”

“Of course, cliens. Sawed off? Lever action?”

“Sawed off. And a couple boxes of slugs.” The zebra nodded, telling me he'd be right back with a model. I turned to the still petrified ponies, smiling. “How are your legs?”

"H-Heh?" I just stared as she stammered, dropping the caps. "W-Why... I mean, good! Good. They..." She swallowed, breathing deeply to calm herself down. "It was just a flesh wound. A potion did it."

"Glad to hear I still got it. Was a tricky shot from that far. If I chipped the bones, you would have needed surgery." I replied, just as the zebra came back with a splendid sawed off shotgun. Mahogany handle, two slugs capacity. "Fine workmanship."

"You have fine eyes, cliens. Sadly, most prefer the models with larger capacity. It had been collecting dust in the back of the shop." The zebra opened it in one move with his hooves, placing the two slugs he had been holding in his mouth in the chambers. With a jerk, the weapon closed with a satisfying 'clack'. “It makes up for it in power.”

“Just what I like.” I took it from the zebra's hooves, balancing it, testing its weight. I liked it, and it was certainly heavier than a revolver but nothing Roxy would have trouble with. And while the rebound would be a bitch, the sawed-off shotgun's short range and spread would still make sure she hit the target. “Okay. I'll take it.”

“That will be 400 hundred caps for the shotgun and 100 for the ammo.” I raised an eyebrow as I collected my bag of caps. I thought it would be worse. “As I said, there's not much demand for this model. It'd be unfair demanding more.”

“Tell you what, if you have a mod to lessen the rebound, I'll add 200 more.” The zebra bowed.

“Most generous.” He trotted to the back of the store again. I turned to Verdant again. DustClops had turned around as well, and was now leveling me with a glare.

“You... Bastard! How dare you show your face?!” He roared out, and I rolled my eyes.

“I missed the part where you became the owner of this place? Because otherwise, I'd say get off it.” He grit his teeth, his frown increasing.

“Damn you! I ought to-”

“Get my rear hooves in your face again?” I cut him off, and that seemed to subdue him somewhat. “Because it's exactly what'll happen if you start acting stupid.” The zebra came back with the mod, already attached to the shotgun. I handed him the total amount of caps, and there went 80% of my funds. But now that I didn't have to worry about clean water anymore, I could afford it. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for your patronage, cliens.” We bowed to each other and I left the shop, closing the door behind me. Then I started counting down from thirty.

'Sheven! Six! Fouw! Huu, wait...' Roxy tried to help, which earned a smile out of me. And at the count of zero...

“NOW WAIT JUST A DAMN MINUTE!” Like clockwork. I turned around, to find a freshly busted out of shop earth pony pointing at me with an accusing hoof. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALK AWAY?!"

"D-DustClops, please don't make a scene..." Verdant pleaded, whispering in his left ear.

"Don't make a scene?!" He didn't seem keen on stopping or lowering his voice, though. Surprise, there. "Verdant, he shot you! Attacked us!"

"And you lived to shout about it. Why? Because I let you." I said with what I hoped was sarcasm. He looked afraid other than angry, now. Damn. It wasn't sarcasm. "Look, what about we talk about it somewhere private?"

"Talk about-"

"Yes! It's a great idea!" She ungracefully plugged his mouth with a hoof. Good girl. A crowd was building up. "Please lead the way."

"Please keep him like that."

-I-

I led them to the shooting gallery. We sat down in front of the lockers. Verdant was wary, probably having just realized they were in an enclosed spaces with someone who attacked them. DustClops was simply pissed. "So... I shot you first on purpose." I know. Bad opener.

"Well, duh!" Okay, I deserved that.

"Brother, please." Oh, they were siblings. "I think that what mister-"

"Tombstone."

"Mister Tombstone meant was: it had a particular purpose." She calmed him down, but her green eyes told me that she couldn't imagine what it could be.

"Yeah, well... I've heard about Reds forcibly recruiting ponies in their ranks. You didn't look like a regular. Too clean, too pretty. Out of place." She flushed. I wasn't trying to make a compliment, I swear. "So, I took you out of the fight early. And... Well, I wanted you in pain to see..."

"To see who would come and help me." She nodded, understanding. You can find out lots of things about someone by putting them in a tight spot. "I see... Thank you, mister Tombstone."

"Thank you?!" The little brother gasped in outrage. The unicorn glared at him. He winced.

"DustClops, he shot me to save me. And you. It hurt, but, if he had wanted to..." She trailed off, letting him remember how I had put three bullets through their ex-companions' heads while they were in cover. He groaned, slumping to the ground. He still gave me the evil eye while Verdant returned her attention to me. "You're right. Me and my brother were drafted by the Reds a week ago. We were travelling to Baltimare."

"Alone?" She nodded. "Why?"

"We used to live in Throttingam, but... It's not a good time to be there, right now." She sighed, her eyes trailing off. "Living there was bearable, before. The Steel Ranger mostly kept to themselves in their headquarters, since the city itself didn't have any technology they didn't have already access to. But when the sun returned..."

"Manticores were the least of our problems." DustClops murmured. Something had happened to the eastern half of the Everfree Forest which had pushed most of its monstrous population past the river, in the Baltimare section. It grew overpopulated and some of its deadly denizens eventually started wandering the wasteland. Then came the Reds, the leftovers of a huge cult-like organization of slavers from the Canterlot region. And finally, six months before, the NCR. "All fancy and mighty in their griffin-pulled carriages. They said they brought help. Would have been nice if they asked if we wanted it, first."

"The skirmishes between the Rangers were minor. There were rumours of a riot building up. So, we left before it happened or worse, before DustClops decided to join." She smiled teasingly, and the younger sibling blushed. "Don't know if you noticed, but he's quite hot-headed."

"I did... Where were the Reds taking you, by the way?" That path would have eventually led them to Records, but Reds usually avoid big settlements after the disastrous attack from a band of them on Ghoulsville in the south. Just because it had no walls or fences, they thought it would be easy pickings. They didn't know that almost everyone possesses a gun, in Baltimare. And Ghouls had two hundred years to practice.

"I heard them talking of a base further south." DustClops answered, the previous embarrassment forgotten, and now he was glaring at me again. "With our luck, they will draft us again. We would have been better off following them there and then escaping."

"You're so sure you would have been to escape?" I shook my head. I would later discover that DustClops had a tendency to oversimplify things. Now, I had a thought. I had to put some more distance between myself and Stable 43 before I could risk using my PipBuck again. 'I was thinking of heading South too. If what they said it's true, I'd better stay away from Trottingham unless it's absolutely necessary. And I did shot her.' "Well, if you want we can make part of the trip together."

"No, thank you. We've had our fill of bullets."

"DustClops!" Verdant admonished her brother, while I just shrugged and stood.

“Suit yourself. I just wanted to offer my help. You know, to say 'sorry for shooting you'?” Verdant stood as well, while DustClops just glowered in my direction. “I thought you'd be happy to have a couple hooves more.”

“Well, it'd make the trip easier, for sure... You seem more wasteland hardened than us, mister Tombstone.” I raised a hoof.

“Just Tombstone, please. And this is my partner, Roxy.” The flower on my shoulder shuffled, but the two ponies just stared at me, not understanding. I grinned. “Roxy, say hi.”

'Hiiiiii!' A vine raised from my left side and waved. Jaws went slack. I chuckled. For the first time in a long while, I was enjoying myself. And yet, that nagging little voice in the back of my mind... It prodded, asked 'Just how much do you think it'll last?'. I didn't know. For the time being, I was focused on enjoying it.

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Footnote: Level Up

New Perk: Lady Killer - +10% damage to mares and unique dialogue options with certain characters

Companion Perk: Roxy! - You got Roxy!