The First Unicorn on Earth

Chapters

May 30, 2015
May 31, 2015
June 1, 2015
June 2, 2015
June 3, 2015
June 4, 2015
June 5, 2015
June 6, 2015
June 7, 2015
June 9, 2015
June 11, 2015
June 13, 2015
June 15, 2015
June 16, 2015
June 18, 2015
June 19, 2015
June 20, 2015
June 21, 2015
June 25, 2015
June 26, 2015
July 4, 2015
July 6, 2015
July 7, 2015
July 8, 2015
July 9, 2015
July 15, 2015
July 27, 2015
Evening of July 27, 2015 [1 Month Special]
July 28, 2015
July 30, 2015
July 31, 2015
August 1, 2015
May 30, 2015
August 6, 2015
August 7, 2015
August 9, 2015
August 15, 2015
August 18, 2015
August 21, 2015
August 24, 2015
August 27, 2015
August 28, 2015 (50th Chapter Special)
August 30, 2015
August 31, 2015
September 5, 2015
June 8, 2015
June 17, 2015
July 1, 2015
July 10, 2015
July 29, 2015
August 5, 2015
August 8, 2015
August 26, 2015

May 30, 2015

Dear Journal,

I've been meaning to write something down earlier, but I've been... preoccupied. By a multitude of things. One of those includes FINDING a journal I can write in, and then figuring out how to actually write. I'll get to that later, but for now I've settled on a voice-to-text software to write down my thoughts. Dragon, I think it's called? I always found that strange, to call it dragon. Dragons are fun creatures, but thank goodness they don't exist. Or... at this rate, maybe they do. I don't even know what to think anymore. Maybe dragons do exist. Maybe I'm just crazy.

I've decided to write these down to stave off psychosis or something similar. Split personality maybe? I don't know what could happen. Writing helps me get everything down; separate reality from fiction. Besides, should the unthinkable happen to me, other survivors (if there are any) could know my story. Hopefully they don't write me off as crazy. Then again, unless they are going through the same circumstances, they would.

Nevermind, I'm rambling. I guess I should start from the beginning.

Just a week ago, on May 23, I awoke to what should have been a normal day. I had plans to meet with my brother, so I woke up bright and early. I then got out of bed to get dressed, only to immediately fall on my face. A few things felt off right there. The first was that the way I landed shouldn't have been possible. Or... not natural, anyway. I couldn't see, but it just... felt wrong. The second was that there was a pain in my head that felt... wrong. At the time I couldn't say what felt wrong about it, it just did. Now I know exactly what the problem was...

As I write this, I have realized that I'm building up unnecessary suspense. I'll cut right to the chase, and try not to ramble. I found myself unable to walk properly. I managed to get to my feet... and I both then and now realized that expression no longer works. Because I didn't have feet. I had hooves. I was some sort of quadruped! I inched my way to the bathroom (walking on four hooves after having two feet for 27 years is exactly as hard as it sounds.) and managed to prop myself up to the mirror. What I saw still shocks me to date.

First observation: I am a unicorn. Or at least, I think I am. I mean, I look like a horse — a very small and strange one at that, but a horse nonetheless — but I have a horn. The only thing I can think of that fits that is a unicorn. Though... it's strange. I'm really small. You'd think that a unicorn would be about the size of a horse, maybe bigger, but I was downright diminutive. Second observation: I look really ugly. I had a deep blue... coat (I still don't like saying that) with a black... mane (I really don't like referring to my parts by their horse names... but that's just a fact of life now.) A red line highlights the outside of my mane. I don't know, maybe that looks appealing to someone else. Not to me.

My physical attractiveness has nothing to do with the matter at hand. Or, would it be hoof? I found myself mostly unable to walk, so I creeped over to my computer and looked up how horses walk. It took a very long time, but I used my alicorn to punch in the keys. After reading a bit, I tried it out myself. Surprise surprise, it helped! I can walk fine as long as I think about it and deliberate each step. It's pretty awkward looking, but it works. Though I am getting better about muscle memory.

Anyway, I end up going over to my neighbor's house to talk to him. I have no loved one's that live with me in my house, but my neighbor and I are good friends. I figured he'd be willing to help, but he wasn't there! I then realized that I live across from a school, and there was no activity there. I entered the school, and still nobody! It was then that I realized something peculiar about myself. My legs bent in ways that shouldn't be possible for a horse. Same with my spine and... everything really. Heck, even my head seemed able to bend strangely.

Now, I'll spare you some of the details of my investigations, but from that day until now I have determined that everyone seems to have vanished off the face of the earth. That sounds stupid, I know, but there's no other explanation. I wonder though... If I stayed, maybe others stayed? I wonder if they're like me. Horses isn't right. I don't know, I guess I'm more the size of a pony? Even that's too big though. But I have nothing else to call myself.

I have been turned into a pony. Great.

After wandering through the school for a bit, I came upon a play area. There was a cart. I don't know why it was there, maybe the teachers brought toys out on it (It was an elementary school.) Nonetheless, it was helpful. I also saw one of those blue bins, that balls are stored in.

Now, before I continue, I'm gonna share a theory. I think I'm magical. That sounds really stupid, saying it aloud, but it's true. I feel some sort of... flow, within me, and sometimes things happen around me I can't explain. The largest bit of evidence I have is the following:

I was trying to lift the bin onto my wagon, but it just wouldn't lift. My hooves had trouble. The straps were too small. After about ten minutes of trying I had yelled in anger and slammed my hoof into the ground, and wanted nothing more than to pick it up and throw it.

Then I heard a thud.

I looked back and the bin had fallen over. I mean, I know it's not proof, but it means something! If I have magic, and I learn to use it... surviving will be a cinch! What magic could I do? Telekinesis, alchemy, teleportation, combat, growth, the possibilities!

Anyway, thirty minutes later and I had managed to stretch the straps enough to slip my hooves through, and secure it to the wagon with ropes. I am going to refuse to write about how I tied the ropes, as just remembering will probably give me an aneurism. When I learn how to use these body, I'll be able to do amazing feats of physical strength and endurance. But I am gonna miss that dexterity (unless I really CAN do magic. In which case, all will bow to me!)

I've noticed that this is going on for too long. I'm gonna skip a lot of details. Basically, what happens next is I go back home, sleep to the next day (Not only was I annoyed, and convinced it was a dream, but I was also REALLY exhausted for some reason. Evidence towards my magic maybe?) The next few days are spent trying to find a suitable spot to settle down. I just kept scouting, and returning home.

Yesterday was the day that changed. After those few days, I had resorted to staying home, fetching food, and looking at Google maps to find a place. One day I had the intuition to print out the map. That also happened to be the day the internet failed. Lucky me. I've always kept that printed map on me. Yesterday I decided to get moving, and I went to a grocery store. My logic follows that people will naturally flock to the grocery store, so if there are any more survivors, I'll meet them here. The electricity is bound to fail soon too, so I decided to eat perishables first. So for dinner I made myself a good old ham and cheese sandwich.

I won't talk about what happened for most of today. With my new equine digestive system, you can probably guess. Though that does bring up a question: how can an apparent equine like me go to the restroom and have it be sanitary? That's a problem I have yet to figure out. Let's just say that dairy freezer got what it deserved.

And that brings us to now. I have no idea what the future holds, but I have made a list of my goals each day.

Sunday: My day to relax. Try to experiment with magic. Also create a backup reserve food. This is to be hidden in case of raiders.
Monday: Look for a radio of any kind. Also make sure that you really did put all ovens and gas off in the surrounding houses.
Tuesday: Figure out a way to defend myself
Wednesday: Retrieve items from old house.

I'm really gonna miss that place... what has this world come to? Why is it all survival now? My home is good for nothing but sentimental value.

Thursday: Gather more luxury items. I need something to pass the time.
Friday: Search for signs of any survivors. Check other grocery stores and markets.

There's my week plan.

I know this entry isn't that good, but I had a lot to talk about. My voice is getting scratchy. It's been a week, I don't remember a lot. Day One sticks out so much, it overshadows everything else.

One thing I hope to do over the course of my adventure is figure out some questions: Are there survivors? How can i survive? And most importantly... why was I transformed into this, and how can I change back? I don't really want to be a pony for the rest of my life. Magic would make that better.

As you can see, I am REALLY excited about the prospect of having magic. I wonder if it's based in my alicorn, or if it's an entire bodily energy. Or again, maybe I'm just crazy.

Also, something I forgot to mention. I hooked up the old loudspeaker system to a bunch of speakers outside. I had some spare time, so I went over to an electronics store nearby and picked some up. Until I get a radio, this is my best bet of signaling others. I'm going to go make an announcement now. I will update after.

Sincerely,

Leon

UPDATE: My message has been made. It follows: "Dear Dallas, Texas,

"Someone please help. I have been turned into a unicorn, and everyone seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth!

"If you can hear this, please come!

"It's very lonely... please..."

Author's Note

I am proud to be the first side story of this amazing group! Here's to a large community, and a beautiful new pony world!

May 31, 2015

Dear Journal,

Eureka! Huge discoveries have been made today, the likes of which nobody has ever seen! The things I've learned could change the world! Well, whatever's left of the world... okay, that statement brought me back down to Earth. Give me a moment to calm down...

Okay, I'm good. I suppose I should start out at the beginning.

Waking up today was a strange experience. It was my first day out of the house. Well, the first day where I wasn't having explosive diarrhea. That could only mean good things for today, and what a day it was! It was... sorry, getting ahead of myself. Anyway, I had some canned beans for breakfast. They were cold. There wasn't really a microwave, and with my hooves I didn't want to risk using an oven. Oh, right, this is one of those grocery stores with a bread place in it. It has an oven.

Anyway, back on point. I believe I mentioned feeling a little flow within me in my last post. If not, you'll get what I mean pretty soon. After eating the beans, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it have been great to have heated it?" Then I remembered my schedule. Today was the day to work on my magic. I thought the energy flow would be a good place to start. So, I focused on it. I did some meditation, drew pentagrams around myself, whatever it took. For awhile, nothing happened. The closest thing I got was feeling a little bit tired at one point, and feeling a wave of energy wash over me at another point or two. Both were so insignificant of a change, it hardly warranted anything.

My grand success came later. My eyes were closed in meditation. I had been meditating for... what? Somewhere between five minutes and an hour. I know that's a large time frame, but during meditation you lose track of time — if you're doing it right that is. Anyways, at some point I began to feel a wave of energy again, but there were two things that separated it from the other times. One was that it felt concentrated. Unlike the other times, where I just felt it everywhere, this time I felt it more in my head. Particularly near my alicorn. Second was that it was much more significant. It felt like if you drank five sodas, some coffee, and threw an energy drink in there for good measure, but different. I can't even describe it. It was like a tranquil energy.

Anyway, I felt that hit me quickly, and in shock I opened my eyes. As soon as I did, a soda can fell to the floor in front of me. From in the air. I levitated it!

That's proof enough for me, anyway. So I do have magic, but I can't quite control it. That isn't useful in a cinch. Not to complain though. If anything good came out of being transformed into this pony monstrosity, it was magic. In wake of this confirmation, I have created a new schedule. Everything is to remain the same, excepting that one hour a day, at minimum, is to be allocated to studying my newfound magical abilities. If I can learn more spells, particularly magic, I could easily make survival missions a leisurely "one hour a day," type thing. But, until then, I'll have to rely on this new body to help me.

Also, I forgot to make the food reserve. I wish I could talk more about what happened today, but not much actually HAPPENED.

On a different note, tomorrow is the day when I look for a radio. I'll be perfectly honest, I don't know how they work. Not REALLY, anyway. I know they transmit waves... but that's about it. I could change a frequency, but even I don't know what that means or how it works. Ask me a question about math, I'll give it. Ask me a question about physics, you'll get an answer. I can comprehend the foundations of the universe on a scale most normal people don't even know exists... and for the life of me, I can't figure out how a radio works. I tried looking it up on the computer at the store, but I had forgotten that the internet's down. There aren't any guides to it.

I can only hope operating one is as easy as it looks in those apocalypse movies. That'd certainly be nice. Otherwise, I'll have to find a book on it. There's a bookstore about five blocks down, and a library maybe half a mile away. If I find one tomorrow, and can't figure out how to operate it, maybe I'll find a book on it. I only hope I can find one with a transceiver. I can only hope transceiver means what I think it means...

Now I'm off to make my nightly broadcast to the city of Dallas, or at least a 25π block chunk of it. I don't know that was the right way to state it. Anyway, this time I'll bring the mic here, so that I don't have to come back and quote myself.

I'm back, after about twenty minutes. A mic is hard to hold with hooves. I'll grasp levitation yet! Anyway, here we go.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"Amazing things have been happening here... I've learned so much. I can only hope that there are still people out there to share my new knowledge with.

"If you can hear this, know you can trust me. I'm in the same predicament as you. Very possibly worse. I'm here for you.

"Dearly hoping there is a 'you' to be here for,

"Leon."

Author's Note

And Leon learns more about himself. How annoying it must be to have sych tantalizing power right at your fingertips, but not know how to open your fingers to let it out! And this finger metaphor is such a great one too... because he has no fingers.

June 1, 2015

Dear Journal,

You know, people always joked about sleeping on a futon when you lost everything, which is kind of ironic. They're nice enough couches to act as beds, but bad enough beds where they become the abused little brother of the bed family. It was kind of that old, "you know you've hit the bottom when" thing.

Futons suck.

I've been sleeping on one for a little while, four nights to be exact, and my back is hurting like hell. It doesn't really help that I don't know how I'm supposed to sleep. Being a pony and all isn't very helpful for the sleep. I wonder what my sleep number would be now?

Moving on. Breakfast was a very standard fare. Nothing much. I saw a cockroach. I don't know why it garnered my attention. I guess they really do survive the apocalypse. I tried to squish it, but it wouldn't die.

Now that we're past the fluff, there are two things to talk about: My search for a working radio, and my magic training session.

First will be my search. I'll be honest, I didn't find anything good. I did open up a truck and find a radio with a transmitter in there, but the car battery was dead somehow. This especially sucks, because it means whoever owned the car before just decided to leave it near the home of a future survivor, but he or she just decided to leave the battery dead. These kinds of people make me really angry.

Nonetheless, it was a good idea. I should search for more trucks with radios, maybe I can pull something together. I did visit the bookstore. While I was there, I picked up a radios for dummies book (or something similar. Nonetheless, SCORE!) as well as some books for entertainment. I mostly picked up sic-fi, but I also picked up some fantasy, comedy, heck even some romance books. I don't even like romance books, but I'm gonna have a lot of free time. I might as well find something to do. Experimenting is for the end times.

During all this walking around, I have significantly improved my ability to walk. It's weird, walking on four hooves rather than two feet. Such a different experience, and yet in just a week and a half it's basically muscle memory. It's almost gotten to the point where I don't have to think about it. I can hardly even remember walking on two legs, or being human in general. To think there will come a time when humans will cease to be even a memory.

I hope Sam made it out alright. To think that we were going to meet up at that old cafe on the day this all happened. That we truly could have not seen this coming. He was going to tell me he was getting married. He wanted it to be a surprise, but I already knew. I had practiced how to act surprised... he was gonna make me his best man. He promised when we were kids. We may have fought a lot when we were kids... but we loved each other.

Yeah... I'm sure he made it out. Maybe I'll see him. Maybe his fiancé made it too. Maybe I'll still get to be the best man... maybe. Maybe.

Sorry, I'm back. I had to take a short break. Onto the second part of this report: the magic.

Nothing! I found nothing! No improvements! Heck, if anything I went backwards! I sat there meditating, focusing, thinking, for an hour, and nothing. Not even the faintest trickle. There's something I'm doing wrong. I need to evaluate the circumstances of the two times I used magic.

But nothing makes sense! One was in a controlled environment, the other in the opening. One was absolute tranquility, the other was anger. One was levitation, one seemed to be some sort of attack (or weak push.) In one I was thinking about nothing, in the other what I was thinking about happened. This leaves me a few possibilities:

I'm missing something. The simplest of all. Maybe there's a key connection I'm just not seeing, or a key to unlock my true potential?
Two extremes. Both were exact opposites, but maybe that's the key. Maybe I need to find a happy medium: Focus in clearness, purpose in emptiness, feeling in tranquility. Maybe there's a mix of the two I need.
I'm crazy. I don't want to think about this, but it's always possible.

Tommorow is the vaguest day of all. I need to find a way to defend myself. Offensive magic, figuring out if I can use guns, finding a sword if not (and figuring out if I can use those) fortifying the store, anything. Tomorrow is likely gonna be a whole uneventful day...

I dearly hope I just jinxed myself.

Time for the radio broadcast:

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"This life is becoming more and more normal. By which I mean that it's becoming more like the normal life. I'm forgetting there was one before it. Never forget. Never forget what we once were. We've become something new, but inside we're the same. We're humans. No matter what we look like, we're humans.

"If you can hear this, you're probably like me. If you're like me, don't give up hope. We're still the same. We're just... different. This sounds like a hashtag movement, but it's not. Never forget.

"I love you brother. I hope you're okay."

Never Forget.

Author's Note

What was that? Did Leon's tough demeanor crack for a moment there?

Thanks to all the amazing people who have been supporting me! All the likes, favorites, comments, and tracks really makes this story special to me.

June 2, 2015

I suppose I should have a party. Ten days, whoop whoop. Survival really hasn't been all that difficult, I have had no supply contesters. The closest I've gotten is some dogs that I haven't even seen. I assume they're out there, but in all honesty I don't even know. I'll run into them one day. Won't that be fun?

Anyway, a few things happened today. I'm gonna stop going over what I had for breakfast, because no one cares.

I'm not gonna build up the suspense, the hunt for magic revealed nothing today. I don't know what happened! Maybe one hour a day just isn't enough. For my one hour I tried the theory that I'm missing a connection. Here's the list of connections, similar and opposites, I came up with.

Opposites:

Tranquil vs Angry

Static (environment) vs Wild.

Focus vs. No focus.

Intent vs. No intent (end result)

Similars:

Both had a want for something to happen.

Both felt tired afterwards.

Both ended quickly.

That's not much to go on. Given the failure of results, I can only assume the theory of the medium to be correct. I need to find a mix of their opposites, while sticking to their similarities. That's not much to go on, but it's all I've got.

Now onto the more exciting part: what happened with the schedule. First off, I can not use guns. I made my way to some place called the Jackson Armory. It wasn't a very nice looking place, and it was quite the walk. It was next to a bunch of ugly apartment complexes, and across from a huge patch of dead grass. Kind of ironic, I become capable of eating grass and the world decides to take it away from me. Across from that was a frozen yogurt place. Thanks a lot, I don't know if I can eat dairy, and you give me frozen yogurt. The world was all for being ironic today. It looked kind of slum-ish, but I was also a pretty well off man, so that could be a reason why. Very old fashioned look to it.

Anyway, I go in and try to use a gun to no avail. Or rather it takes me ten minutes to shoot, and I nearly blow my head off. Here's where my first bit of exciting news comes in: the glass was already broken. I didn't break it. Do you know what that means? Someone else had to break it. This is not infallible evidence on it's own, but there's more to come.

So I return home to take a quick breather. I just thought now I should describe the place I am. I'm living in a grocery store that's part of a chain of connected buildings. I can't remember what those were called, back when there was anyone around to call them anything. In front is a HUGE parking lot. Very big. Other than that, nothing too much. One day when I have almost nothing to say I'll go into further detail, but I did just realize something. Most of the shops that are connected to my store are useless to me now. Hair salon, dentist, really? There is an Einstein's Bagels, which is nice. However, the worst thing is... there are like five ice cream shops. REALLY?!?! Why would one even do that?

Also, a Starbucks... ew.

Next thing.

I did manage to find some wood and metal, before realizing that I didn't have a hammer. So I walked down a steep hill, trying really hard not to fall over, on my way to the hardware story. More shops lined the left and right of me, with the occasional tree for good measure. This journal is really making me realize just how much of consumers we all were. Anyway, I get about halfway down the hill when I hear a loud crashing sound. I quickly run down the hill, tripping more times than I care to admit, and once I make it down I see it.

A car crashed through the front of the building. What does this mean? Well, that likely means another survivor! Maybe someone tried to drive the car and failed? I checked the car, no one was inside. There were still bricks falling from the hole, suggesting that the crash I heard was that. I just narrowly missed a survivor!

Now that I think about it, an abnormally large shadow passed over me on my way down the hill. At first I thought it was a cloud, but there were clear skies everywhere, including right over there. I don't know what it was...

Anyway, I got a hammer and made it back home, but I am not dextrous enough to use it with my hooves, so ultimately pointless. Once I learn magic though, I'll make a weapon. I've decided not to fortify the grocery store, as I want to seem welcoming.

So, there's another survivor out there, almost certainly. Time for my broadcast:

"Dear Dallas, Texas

"Today I saw one of you. A survivor, I mean. Or, I think I did. A crashed car and a broken window. I think someone's out there. The hardware store wasn't that far away, so I can only hope that whoever you are is still nearby. If you are, I await you with open arms– er, hooves.

"It's a crazy world we live in, you and I. Everything's been turned on its head, with our new hooves sticking up in the air. We could do it together, survive. Thrive. Find others like us, or — for their sake — not like us. Worst possible scenario... I'd like to have someone to go insane with.

"Hopefully Wishing,

"Leon"

June 3, 2015

Dear Journal,

I really should find a different way to open up these posts. I mean, the "dear" makes "diary," the first word to pop into your head. And this isn't a diary, it's a journal. Diaries are for children, journals are for men. Or grown up women I suppose, but hell if I even know if they exist anymore!

On a different note, this journal will be smaller than the rest. Why? Because today my mission was to gather my old stuff from my house. I made it to my house, and realized there wasn't much to do. I gathered probably one or two things and then I was off. Although there is something to be said about the "gathering."

While I was at my house, I found two backpacks there. Then I got an idea. Using a combination of my hooves and mouth I used scissors to cut off the straps that connect the part that goes over your shoulder to the actual pack part. Then I took the parts that go over your shoulder — I'll call that the "back strap," — and connected them with their corresponding strap on the other backpack. It's a jerry rigged saddle pack. I think that's what they're called, anyway. I made my way back to the grocery store.

Now, something interesting happened. On my way back, I passed near that hill — the one with the car crash. I was something like two streets down when I noticed a dented box in the middle of the street. When I went over to it, I noticed it had a word etched into it: "help." There's a survivor out there, and whoever he/she is needs my help.

It was scratched out in a very desperate manor, so I'm changing my schedule. Tomorrow I look for survivors. Whoever it was is in danger, and I have the means to help. I have only need to find them.

Once I got back home... no, not home. It isn't a home, it's a base. When I reached base, I decided to spend the rest of my time studying magic, and wouldn't you know it: a breakthrough! How was it that I managed to do magic the first two days, and never again? Well, nonetheless I did something. Sort of.

I am starting to find the happy medium of certain aspects. Or rather, I'm getting closer. It's almost like... like trying to find a radio station on a dial radio. That's a bad analogy, but I'm going with it. You keep going one way and the static begins to clear more and more until finally the voices on the other end are clear. I've been starting to clear the static as it were. Mostly when it comes to "meditated state" vs. "full focus." I'm quickly realizing that I hardly need to meditate at all. Though I do seem to need some degree of calmness to work magic. I can kind of feel more magic flowing through me as I get closer. It's very hard to describe. I think the radio analogy is ok.

So no magic was made today, but I've started learning some stuff. With this discovery, I should be able to make rapid progress towards being able to use magic. I'm so excited for when that day comes!

Uh, sorry.

On another unrelated note, I really have to figure out how I should use the bathroom. It seems that I don't need to go to the restroom as much as I did when I was human, though that could be due to my lack of nutritious meals, but I should still figure something out for when I do.

Excuse me while I do my announcement.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"I know there's one of you out there, and you need my help. If you can hear this leave a message at the same place where that box was, or wait there for me. I'll show up some time tomorrow.

"I'm here to help you.

"Best Wishes,

"Leon."

Author's Note

A huge leap in magic, in discovering how to use it. I don't expect he'll have magic in a day or two, but he's hoping to have it by a week. We'll see how that goes.

June 4, 2015

Dear Journal,

My back really hurts. My back REALLY freaking hurts. It hurts like hell, but it was worth it. I'm still working on a name for this thing. Or at the very least a better opening. Maybe I could stop saying an opening entirely? It doesn't matter, today was a huge day! A great day! Like bigger than the day I discovered magic! Like bigger than everyday since the transformation combined!

I found a survivor!

Or, rather, he found me. Right, let me explain. Today was the day I was supposed to grab some luxury items. Once again, I ended up finding a quicker and easier way to solve my problem. I decided to spend my nights in a nearby apartment. At least until I found a better means to move around heavy items, as well as an aesthetically pleasing way to do it. Luckily the apartment is only about a block away. Like a five minute walk. Once I become more confident in my movements, it might even shorten. I'm basically a horse now, I should be able to go much faster than a human.

Anyways, so that was solved in the first few hours of the day. I needed something else to do, so I decided to practice magic. As usual, no big luck. I got just the slightest bit closer in focus vs. clearness. I think I get the idea of what I need to do, but pulling it off isn't working. But I'm close... I can feel it.

After the failure of the magic, I decided to go back to the hill where the box and car was, and decided to see if I could find the elusive survivor. I looked at the box and tried to decide where it could have come from. I looked around for awhile before yelling in frustration. I was ready to give up until I heard "Look out below!" yelled from above me. I froze, startled, before feeling a great force land on top of me.

Once I determined I wouldn't black out from the pain, I slowly stood up and turned to see what had landed on me. What met my eyes was certainly not what I was expecting. There, slowly getting up, was a pegasus of all things! I was flabbergasted, but in retrospect I should have seen it coming. He apologized to me, but explained he needed something soft to land on. He had been stuck on the roof, but had seen my while flying at one point, so he kept giving signs to help me find him. When I asked why he didn't fly down, he said the following:

"Well, you saw my handiwork, didn't you? The car crash? All me good sir. Threw a brick right on that gas pedal, stood on top, and let the wind blow through my mane. I was trying to lift off. I stood on the car and angled my wings until it caught the wind and I flew. Until I didn't. Crashed right onto that roof and injured myself. I've been stuck up there for two days. Thanks for the help, Leon old chum!"

I neglected to mention that I neither knew him, nor helped him. I led him back to the grocery store so I could feed him — he was on a roof for two days after all — and he talked nonstop. How mixed of a blessing can you get? I should be grateful though, at least I don't have to talk to that corner again...

Nah, I'll keep talking to Martha. But now the person I talk to can respond! That's certainly great. He said his name was Max. We had a nice dinner discussion. He slept through most of the day, seeing as how he was injured. I only woke him up to eat. He's awake right now though.

Yep! I'm awake and doing well at that! Except for my hurt wings. I-

Max, back off while I'm doing my journal entries! You'll get your chance later.

Fine.

So, you can probably see he's... a bit of a pain. I'm sure you can still hear me! Gah, all this dialogue is going to screw up this entry. I'll have to move this to a private room to do this more, so he doesn't inter- no, that's not why I want to bring a computer to a private room! The internet doesn't even work anymore!

Max did tell me something interesting though. He mentioned that he met a thestral, of all creatures. It, excuse me, he told Max that a colony was starting in Bastrop. I looked at the map, and that's about a three day walk, and that's for a human.

I'm gonna need to start gathering supplies. I think the majority of work from now on will be towards getting supplies to go to Bastrop. I will find more ex-humans.

I will survive.

– Leon

Hey, so... Leon wanted me to put some stuff in here to. What's up you guys? Well... I'm referring to a journal as "guys." Is that how low I've stooped?

Probably, who cares?!

So yeah, I've gotta admit. When I figured out there was a survivor, I was really pumped! Though I have to admit I was just a tad disappointed when it was a guy. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, huh? Leon's been criticizing me every waking hour about that stunt with the car. Hey, David seemed pretty impressed with it. David was the thestral. Although he was a tad disgruntled as well. We invented the facehoof! That was fun!

Anyway, I was unconscious most of the day, so not much to say. See ya later!

– Max

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"Today I finally found another survivor, na-"

"Max! I'm Max!"

"Max, please back off!"

"Hey man, we're in this together."

"Just let me do this!"

"Fine."

"Anyway... yeah, I found a survivor. Max.

"Maybe there's more of you out there. I hope... please be more out there."

"Sincerely, dearly wishing,

Leon."

"And Max."

Author's Note

So Leon found a survivor! But was it really worth it?

June 5, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was interesting to say the least. My first full day with Max. I must admit, he does have some interesting stories, but I didn't want him to tell me about the time he... oh God, that story is gonna haunt my nightmares. Just, so disgusting.

Anyway, I observed his wounds today. Now, I'm no doctor — then again, I probably know as much about pegasus biology as most doctors do — but I think I could get the gist of what was going on. It didn't look fun. He seemed to have some sort of bruising of the ribs, or chest area. He had a sprained ankle, or whatever that is for a pegasus, and... something with his wings. I don't think there's a term for it, or at least it isn't identifiable. His wings hurt when he raises them to more than half height. According to him, they hurt REALLY bad.

God, the fact that he can move those is amazing.

Anyway, that could be anything from a nasty cut, to a bone breakage. I have no idea what they're supposed to look like, so I can't diagnose anything. The only thing I could recommend was a lot of rest. He seemed a little TOO enthusiastic about that request.

I also talked to him more about his encounter with this "David" character. When I asked about the colony, he said that he neither knew how many people were there, nor if they were facing the same condition we were. It was safe to assume the latter was true though. I also asked him about "thestral," and he said, "Hey, he looked like that. Besides, his words not mine."

I left him in charge of the store for awhile. He said he'd make sure to turn off the lights and close the register when he left. I can only hope that's a joke. With him you never can quite tell. I went out to search for other survivors. I was hoping I'd get some sort of streak. No such luck. I went around and yelled for a survivor. The closest thing to a response that I got was some shuffling. I chalked it up to be rats.

No, I didn't play into a horror movie cliche. Yes, I investigated. I found nothing, so I assumed it was rats. Get off my back!

Geez, I'm acting like a book can talk to me. Or rather, that a computer can talk to me...

My God, it's been long enough that I forgot computers USED to be able to talk to you... oh man.

I continued looking around for awhile, and found nothing. Onto my magic training.

I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, I can feel it. Every day I feel my connection grow stronger. I can feel more movement within me, of energy that is. I can feel more power. I get more and more exhausted after doing it. That must mean something!

I'm almost there. Almost.

In completely different news, look what I found today!

I don't care if it's a stupid hippie picture, HANDS! HANDS! Oh my God I can't put into words how great it is to see hands again! I wonder if there are still primates. I wonder if they still have hands. Lucky bastards. HANDS!

–Leon

So, I signed off on Leon's behalf. He just started having some sort of attack, before crying and falling asleep. Now that I look back through the entry, I can see why. I miss hands too, I really do. When I get these wings working though, that'll be something.

Also, Leon has magic? Oh, he's a magical unicorn. This is great, so much room for taunting him. Glad I could scar you Leon. Maybe I should tell the journal the story?

...

Nah, that's for another time.

Anyway, I had a fun day. Mostly relaxing. Having Leon touch me all over wasn't fun though. I didn't enjoy that.

He's so gonna be pissed when he sees the way I worded that. I hope he doesn't notice until he turns on the voice-to-text software so his freakout gets recorded. A man-pony thing can dream.

I didn't do much today, so not much to say!

Peace out home dogs! Or, home ponies as it were. Or... journal.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"Leon's kind of indisposed right now... I think that's the right use of the word, so I'm gonna be doing his little announcement thing.

"If there are any survivors out there, and you meet us, make sure to tease him for being a pretty, fluffy, magical unicorn. I'm gonna do it tomorrow, I'll get back to you on how that goes. If you can find a way to include princess in there, bonus points.

"Not much to say... I'll be here all week!

"With all of the homo love,

"Max"

June 6, 2015

Dear Journal,

Max's finally back on his feet. Hooves. I swear, I'll never get used to that. What am I saying, of course I will. More important though, how did he recover so quickly? Now he's not like "good as new," at least I assume he's not. He says he isn't. He still hobbles considerably and can hardly move his wings, but he can walk again. That's something that could definitely be looked into.

Also, I suppose I should...

MAX, WHAT THE HELL?! Why did you have to word it like that? I was investigating you for injuries, not... that! Were you trying to screw with me? That's not nice Max. I don't care! Yes! Er- I mean no! Whatever Max. Also, I'm not a "pretty fluffy magical unicorn." I am a man. S-stop laughing!

Sometimes, I swear. He drives me insane. Did you actually tell people to insult me if we meet up?! Max, stop being a jerk! I don't care if my insults are juvenile, they-

You know what, never mind. I have important news for the journal.

Today was a miscellaneous day. I did whatever I wanted. I have good news, and bad news. Good news first: magic.

I performed magic today! You may notice I'm not as excited about it today as I was before, when I did it the first time. The reason being all that came out were small sparks. Now that is big news, but not big enough to warrant a ton of excitement. Also, the sparks were blue. Interesting. I wonder if that has anything to do with my coat color. Maybe my eye color? Maybe it's just coincidence. I don't know.

Onto... the bad news. This news gives me shivers just thinking about it. It was...

I was walking down the street. A store next to me crackled a bit, some flies buzzed in my ear, but otherwise everything was silent. Then I heard something: a crash. I walked over to where I heard it, just around the corner, and the scene there...

One car was somehow flipped on its side. There were cracks in multiple walls. But that wasn't what garnered my attention.

Blood. There was blood everywhere.

It was spilled all across the street, along the walls. It was heaviest where a block of the wall seemed to have been knocked out. Following the trail of it, I found... her.

Oh... poor girl.

The first female I find... and she's dead. What made it worse, is the wounds were obviously not caused by an animal. They were caused by something intelligent. They were caused by a thinking being.

They were caused by one of us. The girl was murdered. Her head was partially bashed in, blood oozing from a crack in her head. The scene showed that whoever this girl was, she fought. She fought hard. All for nothing it seemed. After that... I was done for the day. I'm gonna... I'm gonna go.

-Leon

So, I just read Leon's report. I suppose that explains a lot. He came back from being out today all sullen. He walked over to a corner, threw up, and cried himself to sleep in his own puddle of vomit. I've been being hard on the guy... in the hopes that I could be the hardest thing life has to throw at him. I suppose after today, that just won't happen.

I've been making a speedy recovery. Much faster than I expected. I... don't have much to say. Today should... we should probably take the rest off.

I'm not gonna make a broadcast today... actually, I will.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"You may know me as the jokester, the comedic relief in these hard times. But today I'm gonna show a shred of human decency.

"Today a dead woman was found. Leon told me he gave her the best funeral rites he could. Tomorrow we'll bury her. You may notice this announcement is a few hours early. This will be a silent night in memory of her loss.

"With Solemn Partings,
"Max."

Author's Note

And things take a turn for the worst. Things may not be as great as they seem.

June 7, 2015

Dear Diary,

Yeah, I said diary. I'm totally screwing with him. Oh, yeah, it's Max. I decided to be first up today. Today was wholly uneventful... oh wait, like hell it was! Another survivor, whoop! This time it's a lady too, name's Barbara. We went to go bury the woman's corpse, and we met her there. She kinda looked between the two of us. Said she heard our broadcast but couldn't trace its location, so she decided to meet with us at the corpse. We agreed, and we all three helped bury the body. We brought her back to the store. There was the parking lot, but then there were those small chunks of dirt and grass, you know where they put the trees. I don't know what those are called. We buried the body there. That took most of the day. We tried to use trowels, but found it easier to paw at the ground with our hooves. It was easier, but it certainly took awhile. We lowered her body in there — no casket I'm afraid — before covering the dirt again.

Oh, right, I forgot to describe Barbara. She has a light orange coat. I don't even know what the shade's called... and red hair. Pretty, as ponies go. Then again, I only know one other pony, and he's not exactly a looker.

Sorry, I should get back on topic. We covered the hole and each said some words. We all felt bad later because, since we didn't know her, there wasn't much we could say. Well, I assume Barbara felt bad too. She was silent the majority of the day. Or, mostly silent. Aside from a few yes or no answers to some questions we had. After that, Barbara said she was gonna go for a walk. She only just returned recently. How ya doing Barbara? Still nothing? Okay. She's definitely the silent type.

Leon and I talked for awhile after that. I asked him about his life prior to the Purge — that's what we call the May 23rd thing, by the way. Told me he had a brother, Sam, he was gonna meet. That sucks. I hope his brother made it. Asked him if he had a special somebody. He said he didn't, but there was this cute girl at his workplace he was pining for. I know the feeling. I mean, not really. I was always the ladykiller in my hayday (see what I did there?) but I sympathize. He asked me some about myself. I suppose I should put it down.

I was the cool guy everywhere I went, you know? Everyone adored me. Egotism, what's that? Yes... that was sarcasm in case you couldn't tell. Life was good. No one special at the time, I had just broken up with my girlfriend a week prior (I dumped HER, okay!) but I was cool. I'm 23 years old. He said he was 29. Quite the age difference. We asked Barbara how old she was. She didn't say.

Anyway, I don't have much more to say, so I should wrap it up. I feel like I'm becoming close to this diary. See ya tomorrow night!

– Max

It's not a diary, don't listen to him. It's a journal. I don't know why I let him go first. We have a standard: I go first to give a factual recount of the day, he goes second with quips and the like. That's our thing. He's left me with little to do. Max, could you take number of how many breakfast cereals we have left? I know it'll be awhile before we run out, I just wanna- please just go do it. Thank you.

Anyway, as I was saying, there isn't much left to say. He kinda said everything. I suppose I– Max? Max!

I- I'm back. I-it's been awhile, huh? I-I-I... oh God...

Max, he's...

I heard a thumping sound, a-and I go to check it out, and I see Max on the ground, screaming in agony, blood oozing from his leg and chest. A-and Barbara... that BITCH! She's standing over him with a bloody knife! She- she notices me and charges me with the knife, a-and I dodge, and she tries again and cuts me on my hind leg, and the whole time there's this weird expression on her face. She looked determined, but sad and scared. I must've had that same look. She raises her knife again, and in a moment of desperation I almost reach out like a human to grab something, and a can flies out and hits her on the side of the head. I would celebrate about finally doing magic, but... I'm in no mood to.

While she was stunned, I walked as fast as I could over to her. The knife was knocked out of her mouth where she had been holding it. She grabbed it between her hooves and stood up on her hind legs, and I dove under, and... oh God... oh God why...

I killed her. I stabbed her under her mouth with my horn, before repeatedly smashing her face with my hooves. I didn't think, I just acted. Sh-she's dead. She looked up at me in her dying moments, angry, but with... so many emotions on her face. She didn't look like a monster. Her last word was muttered almost unintelligibly, but it sounded like "Jamie." M-maybe her lost daughter? Remembering those she lost in her... final moments?

That one day, I had been preparing defenses. Or trying. I was preparing myself to kill... but I didn't remember to prepare myself mentally...

Max is wounded. He's alive, but if I don't do everything in my power to keep him alive, it won't stay that way. A life is now in my hands, and another is ON my hands.

Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God...

I-I-I-I...

I just killed a woman.

June 9, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today has been a... crazy day. To start, another survivor arrived. I know, it's crazy how fast they suddenly come. Radio broadcasts may be nice, but blasting out a stereo means those without radios can hear you. Anyway, he arrived. This is where things get... unfortunate.

He had no horn or wings, he'd look like a normal horse were it not for the giant eyes and diminutive stature. This was the second worst part of it all: he was a kid. I may not know much about our new anatomy, but I can tell a child when I see one. He was young, and seemed very scared. I asked him how he got along this long, and he just told me he was looking for his mother, and that he thought she passed through this store a bit back. I was chuckling then, poor kid with dementia. No way that both a mother and son made it together. Then he said she passed through two days ago, and asked me if I'd seen a female pony named Barbara.

I asked him his name.

He said his name was Jamie.

I just split up what may have been the last family on Earth. Everything clicked. That look in her eyes, that determination mixed with sadness and fear. She was a provider: a mother trying to protect her son in a world gone crazy. Can I fault her for that?

I just asked if I can fault a woman for killing. Or, attempted killing. She could have asked, and we'd have given her stuff. People do crazy things when they're afraid. Another problem arises, I never had time to remove Barbara's corpse. I've been keeping the kid in my room all day so he doesn't see it. He's asleep right now.

In Max news, he's... staying pretty much the same. From what I can tell, his condition hasn't worsened, but he's still in a great deal of physical pain. While changing the bandages today, I noticed that using my hooves to apply them caused him great physical pain. So, I thought back to how I felt and what I was thinking while fighting Barbara, and tried it again. I levitated a bandage to him and carefully applied it as best I could. I wasn't as clean as with my hooves; I'm not very dextrous with my telekinesis yet, but it was less painful. I think that's important.

God, I still feel no excitement over grasping magic. I would've rather never learned magic than have learned it this way. I swear on all that's holy Max, you're getting out of this.

– Leon

H-hey guys. I-it's me again. Good ol' Max back on the scene. Leon didn't want me to do this, so I waited until he fell asleep. Yes, this does hurt like hell. I... AH! Sorry, I m-moved myself in a bad way. I'm... I'm dying guys. At least, I think I am. Leon keeps telling me I'll live. Admittedly I've been getting better. I just.. don't see myself making it. Maybe I'll be wrong. Hopefully I'm wrong. Ma-AYBE I-i'll get through j-j-just fine. GAH the pain!

Ok, i-it's calmed down a bit. I hope the pain goes soon. I got myself some painkillers while Leon wasn't looking. How'd I get them? Leon got some for me before he took into consideration that it might be bad for me. I'm only going to take them if it just becomes too much. Leon's right, I don't want to- GAH!

I-i'll see you guys later. P-peace out!

– Max

June 11, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was the most boring day of them all. The same stuff as the previous two days. I kept helping Max, not much to it.

A short bit on that. He's not looking good. He keeps fluctuating between better or worse. Right now he's on a downward slope. I'm doing my best to pull him back up, but... he's still in a lot of pain. Barbara must've hit something bad.

Also, Max and Jamie seem to be getting along fairly well. Or, much better then I am. Max has that fun personality that kids look for. I have the personality that will keep us alive, but evidently isn't a ton of fun. Jamie does need someone to talk to though. I'm glad Max is there for him.

Hmm... I need to make this entry longer... oh, I have an idea!

Hey... guys. Um... Max told me to address the journal like it was an audience. I guess I can do that. I don't know why, but Max said it's very entertaining. So... here goes.

My name is Jamie. Though you guys probably know that. I'm 12... I miss my mom. She said she was going to the grocery store a few days ago and never came back. Leon said she's dead... I don't believe him. She'd never just die like that... she'd always come back for me. She promised she'd never leave me... mommy wouldn't leave me.

Why is it that I can use the word "die" in everyday conversation when talking about real life? What happened to me? Why is the world like this? Where is my mom?!

I... I'm back. I entered a fit of what Leon calls "hysterics." My... my mom will be back for me. For now I need to focus on myself. Leon's very... blunt, but he seems to care about my health. I think I can trust him. I hope I can trust him. The grocery store is a very nice place, though there's a weird stench around aisle 9. Leon tells me not to go near that aisle. I don't know why, all it has is a bunch of breakfast cereal.

For some reason, Max just groaned. It wasn't like a pain groan, more like an annoyed groan. I don't know, I imagine being stuck in bed for awhile would have that effect on people. Er... ponies as the other two call them.

I always liked horses. I rode a horse whenever I could. That wasn't very often, unfortunately.

I managed to sneak a peak at Max's wounds, and... I don't know how Max can take it. They look terrible. I- I didn't mean to offend y- oh, it was sarcasm? O-okay.

Max seems to be generally friendly. He likes to make me laugh, even though he's in pain. It doesn't usually make me laugh, b-but the heart is there. Something's also strange about him. Whenever I mention my mom, he looks at me with a sad and almost angry look. I don't know if he's angry at me, or something I say makes him angry. Uh, as in I say something that reminds him to be angry at something else.

Overall, this place isn't... too bad. I do want to figure out what happened to my mom though. Uh... Jamie, signing off! Max, do you want to say something? Max? Oh, he's unconscious.

The following accidentally recorded conversation has quotation marks added to it for reader benefit

"-on't care.... Leon, you know what you have to do."

"He doesn't need to know. The kid is too young, his heart would be broken."

"You'd rather h-have him wait for- ngh... a mother that's never coming back? You have to tell him."

"I'm just lucky he hasn't decided to look through previous journal posts. Besides, I have to take care of you. I have enough on my plate as is."

"W-well, sorry I'm agh... a burden to you."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"I know."

"I'll tell him when everything's calmed down."

"Soon... you'll tell him soon."

"Hopefully."

Author's Note

Sorry that posts have become considerably shorter. Don't worry, they'll quickly pick back up in length soon.

June 13, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was another very average day. Jamie seems to be becoming more sad for some reason... no, not for some reason. I know exactly why. His mom. He's been with us for five days, and hope must be running out for him. Since Barbara's corpse was cleaned up, he sits by the doorway watching out for his mother we know won't return. Max keeps pushing me to tell him, and threatening that he'll do it if I won't. It's becoming especially difficult, as Jamie asked how Max got his injuries today. To be honest, I'm surprised he didn't ask earlier. I told him he tripped. Jamie doesn't seem to be a genius kid, but even the biggest idiot in the world would see through that lie. It seemed to only make him more curio-

The following conversation has been written in script format for reader convenience

Max: Hey, you updating the journal?

Leon: You should be resting Max.

Max: I was, until a few seconds ago.

Leon: Max, get back to sleep.

Max: Nah, I want to hear about what's been going on.

Leon: Max...

Jamie: H-hey, are you guys doing the journal thing?

Max: Yeah buddy, what's up?

Jamie: I have a question to ask Mr. Leon.

Leon: Sure, go ahead.

Jamie: I have accepted that... my mother's probably dead. You're right. She'd never leave me this long.

Leon: Good... I mean, not good. I mean, I'm glad you believe me, but it sucks that-

Max: Leon, shut up.

Jamie: But, my question is... how did you know?

Max: Uh-oh.

Leon: W-what?

Jamie: H-how did you know about mom's death?

Leon: I... I saw it.

Jamie: What happened?

Max: Leon...

Leon: See... she really wanted supplies... to help you, her child. She... ended up hurting someone, and a unicorn came and killed her protecting him and his friend.

Jamie: Is that it?

Leon: Yes.

Jamie: Mr Leon... were you that unicorn?

Leon: What? What makes you think that?

Jamie: There were two people in the story, you're the only unicorn I know, you somehow saw the death, and "someone" out of the two people was hurt.

Max: That's, um...

Leon: That's pretty good logic for someone your age.

Jamie: Did you kill her? Did... did you kill mommy?

Max: Leon... he deserves the truth.

Leon: Yes...

Leon: Are you oka-?

Jamie: No, I get it! Sh-she attacked you, a-and you did what you had to to survive. I-I get it. You did what any normal person would have done, and you deserve no anger about it.

Leon: And he's gone. He took that well.

Max: No, he took it pretty rough.

Leon: What are you talking about?

Max: Stage one of grief... denial. He's denying really hard right now.

Author's Note

I have written many stories in my day. Only one fimfiction, but multiple fan fictions. And with every single other fan fiction, I have to force myself to write the next chapter. But with this one, I've had to force myself not to write and release every single chapter to build suspense. I have just LOVED writing this story, and to show that, along with my thanks to everypony who made this story my favorite pastime, I am releasing a second chapter today just for the hell of it.

It's also the only chapter that hasn't been read before release. This isn't indicative of my writing though, the all dialogue only makes this a bit harder to write. I am also working on a short amount of time. I hope it ends well.

June 15, 2015

D-dear Journal,

It's done. He was in pain for six days... a-and... he couldn't take it anymore. He soldiered on for a long time... but he gave in.

Max is dead.

H-he kept a bottle of painkillers, and I guess he decided to throw some down. It didn't work... and he died. Jamie seems to be taking it kind of rough too. He just learned the truth about his mother, and now the one person he got along with here is dead. He is also very conflicted about it, knowing his mom caused the wounds.

He's avoiding me, needless to say.

I went out to the place where we buried the unnamed woman, and buried him there too. With my newfound magic, it was much easier to use a shovel. God... we're building up a graveyard. I woke up this morning and walked out of my room, intentionally avoiding the cereal aisle, but as I passed it... there he was. Lying in the middle of the floor. Cold, unblinking, unmoving... dead. Beside him was a note. I will paste it into this journal below me.

Dear Leon,

Hey buddy. I'm in a lot of pain right now. So much pain, it's almost becoming numb. It's all become too much. If you're reading this, then you were right. I shouldn't have taken the pills, and now I'm dead. You know what? I think I'm okay with that. I'm tired of all this, Leon. I'm done.

I'd like to thank you though. On the 23rd... what, 22 days ago now? Jeez, that's a lot. 22 days ago I woke up alone, different, and afraid. I numbed myself to the fear by being adventurous and having fun. But that could only last so long. I didn't think, and I got stranded. Then along you came, showing me there was still hope in the world. Saving me (sorry about your back by the way) and bringing me to shelter. I know I annoyed you, but that's how I show affection.

You showed me that we could live on. I can never thank you enough for that. When Barbara came along and tried to kill me, you risked your life, saved me, and then continued to do everything in your power to help me. You verged on wasting away to help me. That's not good for you Leon.

We had some good times together, and I urge you to remember those. You're stronger than me Leon, so much stronger than me. I know you can make it, I know you can do it. Now you have a child to look after too, and he needs you Leon. He's gonna hate you for awhile, but I think deep in his heart he really does understand that you did what you had to. He'll get better.

He's told me some stories, about his past. About his mom. Try to see if you can get him to open up more. When he hits stage 2 of grief, anger, he's gonna make your life a living hell. Stay there for him. He needs you.

The pain is starting to become overwhelming, so I'm gonna leave with this. You can do more than you could possibly imagine. You have a big mind, a big magical horn, and a big heart. You can get people through this. Though, learn some tact, it can go a long way. Never give up. Look for the light. Maybe you can find a cure for this.

Get to Bastrop for me. Tell my story. I'll be watching from heaven, judging every single move you make and tutting at your mistakes.

Tutting is an annoying word, don't make me do it. Remember: you're the best damn pretty fluffy unicorn ever.

Goodbye forever,

Maxwell Teller.

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried for a long time. Max... you annoyed the hell out of me. You were the most aggravating person I've ever met. But god damn it you made an impression. Tomorrow we'll do a proper ceremony.

I will get to Bastrop, Max. I'll find other people. I'll tell your story. I'll never forget you.

T-t-t-this is Leon... signing off.

Author's Note

I am officially adding a sad tag.

June 16, 2015

Dear Journal,

Old habits die hard, huh? You know, when you do something so many times that you continue to do it when there's no need? I learned that the hard way today. I woke up and the first thing I did was walk over to where Max was and grabbed some gauze, before realizing he wasn't there. I visited his grave sight and picked out some nice flowers from a botany shop in the same strip mall (that's what they were called!) that the grocery store is in, and I put them on Max's grave. They look nice. It livens up the graveyard. I gave some flowers to Jamie, and he put them on Barbara's grave. I can't help but hate her for killing Max (or indirectly causing his death I suppose,) but I have to remember she was a loving and caring mother, and Jamie was her son.

Jamie's still in denial about that, if what Max said is right. He still kind of avoids me, but I haven't noticed any real anger yet. I know it'll hit though. He does seem somewhat sad, but not depressed, so yeah.

I have to say, I'm kind of thankful for Jamie's presence. He's kept me anchored. Now I have a child to take care of; I don't have time to dwell on Max's passing. I don't have time to cry or feel bad. It's still kind of hard to believe he's gone.

Without the burden of taking care of Max, I was able to get stuff done. I've decided to restart my search for a radio.

Did I forget to mention the power ever going off? Yeah, looking back through my journal, I never did that. It went off about a week ago. I'm surprised it took that long. I managed to find a small generator, but I'm using it on my computer to keep up my journal entries... hey, now that I have magic, maybe I'll be able to write again.

Testing, testing, one two three.

Hah! I can write again. The rest of this chapter is written. I've printed off the rest of the other pages (I hooked a printer up to the generator for a short amount of time) and put them in a physical journal. It feels good to handwrite again, though it is a bit exhausting.

Anyway, I continued my search for a radio, and I went to a local RadioShack. I mean, it has radio in its name. Walking down the street... things aren't looking good. I haven't been outside in a week, for more than a few minutes anyways, and things have gotten significantly worse. Packs of wild dogs roam the streets, concrete has begun cracking as plants slowly begin to grow through. Worse still... the fire.

I made sure to turn off every source of heat I could around me, and that kept it at bay. But after walking a few miles, I began to see small fires popping up. Nothing too serious, but I worry that won't last for long. I'll need to be careful and take extra fire safety precautions.

I also stopped at that gun store I mentioned awhile back, and picked up a gun and holster. With my magic, it's now usable. I'm not dextrous enough to use a basic gun yet, so I picked up one of those old guns where you actually have to pull the little handle back to shoot. Those ones you see in westerns. I don't know what they're called. I also picked up as much ammo as I could fit into a saddle bag. That's what I'm calling my backpack contraption. I haven't used that in awhile.

I picked up a portable radio and some batteries. Only problem is... I have no clue how to use it. My idea from way back on the 32nd, I think it was, still holds. I should go to the library or book store to figure out how to operate. The thing came with an instruction pamphlet, but all it really told me was how to change frequencies, change batteries, and change the volume. The only one that was really helpful was the frequencies, but I don't know what that means. I'm sure there's a sort of emergency frequency. Maybe a nation wide broadcast with other survivors trying to meet up. I need to figure out those numbers. As it stands, I couldn't even figure out how to broadcast myself. I tried yelling into it for awhile before Jamie pointed out that it wasn't working.

Thanks Jamie.

It was too late by the time all that was done, and I didn't want to leave Jaime alone. I practiced my dexterity with magic by trying to pick two things up at once. I've determined it's possible, but I'm not good enough yet to do it. I'll probably start resuming my 1-hour practice session of magic. If I want to have any hope of being able to defend myself and Jamie well, then I'm going to need to be more dextrous with my magic. I wonder if it works like finger exercises. Like the spinning a ball thing. I need to decide if I'm gonna work on pinpointing, or precision with my magic, or quantity. How many things I can pick up.

I put Jaime to sleep recently, but he seemed somewhat more aggressive about it than usual. I worry that tomorrow will not be a fun day. Stage two might be upon me, and given that I'M the one who killed his mother... I can guess where that anger will be directed.

Sincerely,

Leon.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"Yesterday, a good man died. He soldiered on for such a long time, but was unfortunately killed. His loss will not be forgotten.

"I will now work harder than ever to reach Bastrop. I also have a child to look after. I need everyone's help that I can get. If you can hear this... some help would be much appreciated.

"Good luck to all of you,

"Leon."

Author's Note

Longest chapter in six chapters. Also, remember the thestral Max met? Well, his story is up! The chapter with Max has just recently been published, so if you want to see Max for the last time, go check that out!

The story has clop in it, so I'll link you exclusively to the chapter where Max appears in case clop isn't your thing.

Go check it out!

June 18, 2015

Dear Journal,

Jamie's still missing. I was wondering if he'd come back for food or shelter or the like, but he hasn't. This makes me worried, as I've noticed dogs are starting to become seemingly more intelligent. It makes me nervous that vicious animals are becoming intelligent.

Heh, kinda hypocritical coming from me, huh?

I tried to learn more about radios, and I discovered that many cities have a local emergency station. I looked mine up. The closest thing I have is Farmer's Branch. Its Emergency frequency is 1670 kHz. If my research holds true, that means it's an AM station. I don't know if this radio is an AM radio, but I'll figure it out. I hope.

I'm still researching though.

Now that I can handwrite (Hoofwrite? Horn write?) I can update at different variables in the day easily. I'll update again later.

As Max called it, I'm face hoofing. I'm an idiot. I have what's called an analog radio, and they tune into both AM and FM radios. I still don't know about the scanner, but here's the thing. With this radio, I have to manually turn the entire radio to the direction of the broadcast. So... I don't know what to do about that. I don't know where the radio tower is. I set the frequency to 1670 kHz and put it down. This thing is AC powered, so I plugged it into the generator and unplugged the computer. I printed all of the previous journals out first and taped them in. So no lost info.

Now, I still have a lot of research on radios to go, and this generator is gas powered. Now there's a gas station across the street (lucky me) but even so it's a finite resource. No more gas will be being pumped there, so I only have what's over there. Granted that's a lot for one person (hopefully two soon) but still. My radio does not have a transmitter, unfortunately. I'll need to find a scanner to be able to scan ham frequencies. It's the easiest for consumers. I've been learning a lot from my research, but I still have a long ways to go.

My magic is coming along well. I tested to see if it interfered with the radio, but I don't know. Nothing came out, but I also can't broadcast signals. If only I had a transceiver...

I really do hope everything I'm saying makes sense. I've got such a rudimentary knowledge on this stuff... I have almost no clue what I'm doing.

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"I really hope to soon have a transmitter up and running. I have a receiver up and running... sort of kind of. I'd love to talk to any of you. If you're worried about me being hostile... somehow, leave a message with a frequency outside and we could...

"Nevermind, I'd only be able to hear you. Which is great, but still not helpful. Uh... would you mind leaving a transmitter out there? Or a transceiver? That'd be even better! I think... I'm still confused on all of this stuff.

"I've come to doubt there are more of you out there, but I'd certainly hope so.

"Dearly wishing,

"Leon"

Oh yeah, I hooked the generator up to the microphone and stereo... system.

Microphone...

could I find a way to use that as a transmitter? I'm too tired to figure out today, but we'll check tomorrow.

– Leon

Author's Note

So... Leon's learning about radios. Replace Leon with Baileyjrob and it's the same deal.

I know very little about how radios work on a technical level, so I'm trying to figure out how to be accurate... and it's slow business. Particularly on the part with transmitters and radio scanners. If any of you out there could help, I'd be very thankful.

June 19, 2015

Dear Journal,

I went out and searched for Jamie, and he was nowhere to be found. I hope he's okay... God, why do I care?! HE TRIED TO KILL ME!! I shouldn't care... maybe he deserves to be lost! Maybe he deserves to die for what happened for Max!

...

Oh God, what's become of me? I'm falling apart. I've been feeling very... frustrated lately. I'll notice myself yelling at cans of food. I even caught myself drawing a face on a flour sack from the bakery section and ranting to it. I even named it. I named it Ryan. Ryan's cool...

I'm so lonely. I took company for granted. Hell, I even hated it occasionally. I questioned whether being with Max was worth it. I didn't even know Max wasn't his full name. I never knew his full name until he was dead.

Maxwell Teller... that's a nice name, I think. How'd I become so attached to the guy? He just angered me. He was infuriating! I got angry and told him to shut up all the time. I asked how anyone could put up with him. He always responded with "don't worry, you'll warm up to me." I guess I did but just not in time. I always assumed his jovial mannerisms to be as a result of a low Intelligence Quotient. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the crayon box, but he wasn't an idiot either. Though the most common phrase I heard from him was "stop using big boy words and speak normally." Whatever.

I visit Max's grave everyday. I don't know if there's a God or a heaven, but if there is I hope he's up in the new pony heaven (unless all the humans died and went there too, in which case I hope no one bullies him.) having a grandiose time. He seemed to think he would. I can almost hear him tutting. Seriously though, I swear I can hear something... wait... I can definitely hear something... no one's around me though. THE RADIO!!

I'm back. The radio picked something up for a short time on the emergency broadcast, but on my way to listen I tripped on the cord, and knocked it off the table. It broke. I'm sure I can get a new one, but I need to figure out how to use the new one. Now I know there is a survivor. Somewhere out there is another survivor. Not Jamie, someone new. From the bit I heard, it sounded like a girl. I can't be sure though.

I did some magic, practicing. I'm getting rapidly better. I now feel like I have more energy to use, but I just don't know how to manipulate it. Maybe if I get some weights... is that how magic works? Can I use weight lifting to make it better? Somehow I doubt it, but by lifting things I have gotten stronger. Maybe it's like some ethereal muscle? I wish I could just figure this all out now instead of going through all this bullshit! This is so stupid? Why is this even happening, how is this possible? This isn't scientifically possible, I am not scientifically possible.

Maybe some day I'll learn. Maybe some guy over in... I don't know, L.A. is figuring this out? Doesn't really matter where, I guess. I wonder if anyone's even alive in L.A.

No point in wondering if it won't lead to results. Bastrop first, other places first.

I went out for a walk, and the fires are getting bad. Luckily they're still pretty self contained, but I found an airplane crash, and the fires were huge. The worst part is, there was a corpse there. Another little child pony who transformed in mid air

His mangled body was impossible to remove from his seat, but I did find some luggage with his name on it (the fire had moved on from the plane, so I could walk in. Still didn't want to stay long.) Shepard. I made a gravestone for him. At least I hope it was a him. I think it was. Shepard would be an unfortunate name for a female, but the body didn't let me tell for sure.

Four gravestones out front. Four people lost. I won't let there be any more. No more.

– Leon

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"I heard one of you over the radio today. Only for a small second. I don't know where you are, but I heard you. If you can hear me, get over here. And don't be intimidated by the steadily growing graveyard out front...

"Okay, maybe I'm cursed or something. I think we're all a little cursed at this point. Good night, Good Luck

"Sincerely,

"Leon"

Author's Note

For those of you who are worried that I'm just exchanging survivors like Pokemon cards, don't worry. This is gonna be different. The hunt begins.

Also, I made two references. Respect points to those who caught them.

June 20, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was pretty uneventful for the most part. I tried to do more research on radios, but didn't get very far. One thing to note is, well... Jamie returned.

I was sitting there, reading my radio guidebook and trying to find anything I missed when he suddenly comes running through the door with an idea. He says he'll forgive me for killing his mother on one condition. Of course I want to be on good terms with him, so I asked him what the condition was. He asked me to use my unicorn magic to bring Barbara back to life...

Oh boy.

I tried to let the kid down gently. I told him that I can only adequately levitate one thing at most. I don't even know if my magical capabilities go beyond levitation, and if they do I certainly haven't reached that level yet. After that he seemed really downcast. I was worried he was gonna run off again, but he just curled up in a corner. He hasn't moved since, not even to eat. I'm really worried about the kid. Stage 4?

On the other hand, I've been thinking about the radio signal. That was from the local emergency broadcast station, meaning she (I thought the voice was a female, so I'm sticking by it until I know to the contrary) is in the metroplex area. My first area to check would be the radio tower, or one of them anyway. I need to check to see if she's there, as that would certainly be the easiest place to broadcast from. I think. I still don't know how this stuff works. I'll figure it out eventually.

My magic is getting progressively stronger through meditation and practice. Writing has certainly helped my precision and dexterity with my magic, so I'll continue to do that. If I can learn to levitate two things at once, writing on the go would be much easier.

Maybe I can make my magic strong enough to bring back the dead. Then I can bring Max back to life! Yeah, I need to do that! I'll become stronger, and I'll bring Max back from the dead.

Is it wrong that I didn't even think to try when only Barbara was concerned... am I a monster for killing her? No... no, it was in defense for two people... ponies... whatever. I... I'm a good guy.

Yeah... of course. Hopefully this new survivor isn't as paranoid as Barbara.

– Leon

"Dear Dallas, Texas,

"I'm getting exhausted from having been cooped up this long. I'm gonna adventure tomorrow. I'm gonna search for whomever's out there. If you can hear me, meet me at the radio tower... which one? Uh... never mind, come here.

"See you then, I guess?

"Sincerely,
"Leon"

"Seriously, I should script these things... oh, the mic is still on. Hehe..."

Author's Note

For those of you complaining that humans don't simply go through the phases of grief like it's a graph, rather it's a guideline, it has to do with Leon's character. Remember that everything is from his point of view. Things are rarely as simple as they seem, as we're only getting one perspective.

There's much more going on, I assure you.

June 21, 2015

Dear Journal,

I can't shake the feeling I'm being watched. I was originally going to go search the radio tower, as I stated in my previous entry, but I decided to do something different. I decided to try to find another radio. I kinda forgot where the place I got my last one was, so I walked around aimlessly for while. At one point I saw a cat sitting on a sign. How it got up there, I'll never know. The cat just... stared at me. It was judging me. I know humans liked to personify animals, and cats always looked like they were judging, so that became the stereotype. This was different though, it was... it was definitely judging me.

Some wild dogs finally attacked me today. Or, tried to anyway. They ganged up on me and started circling and growling at me. When I levitated out my gun the backed off, afraid of my magic I suppose. I then shot into the air and they all ran away. They're forming packs, finding shelter, they're becoming intelligent. A result of the Purge? Or could it be that humans were what was hindering them? I don't know, and maybe never will.

Hopefully they won't become too big of a problem. I have already killed once, I don't think I want to again. I suppose that's to be expected though. If worst comes to worst, I'll do what I have to. I HOPE I'll be able to do what I have to. I have Jamie to protect now too.

Oh, right, Jamie. He's still here. Still curled up in that corner over there. He's really taking this hard. Not eating. I forced him to take a few nibbles, but I'm worried about the kid. I'm doing the best I can to make him feel better, but to no avail. He'll get over it eventually, I'm sure. I just hope it's soon enough.

After not being able to relocate the radio store, I decided to do something else: preserve human history. I went to an art museum and picked out a lot of the prettier and stranger pieces and put them in the old Subway near the store. That'll be my little storage area for now. I then raided different houses and found pictures. Human pictures, of course. Started stacking them up in the Subway.

And then there was me. Yes, that's an old picture of me as a human. I looked a lot like one of my friend's favorite video game characters (According to him, I looked like Nathan Drake. I don't see it.) so he made me cosplay as him. I didn't really want to, but I had a bit of fun just screwing around.

God... I had forgotten what I looked like. It's so... surreal to see my true self again. This one's going in the journal, I'm not putting this up for display. Maybe if I find another picture of me. Magic is fun, but I miss being human. I... really miss being human.

I think I'll go join Jamie in the corner.

– Leon

Author's Note

For those of you who might be wondering, the picture of Leon was just a random picture off the internet of a Nathan Drake cosplayer. I thought it looked good, so I'm keeping it.

Leon as a human!

P.S. I anxiously await the day when I write a decent sized chapter.

June 25, 2015

Dear Journal,

Hello... I'm back. It's Jamie. Leon's going to be out for awhile, he's started a mission to collect human stuff, so I thought I'd write in the journal. He left it behind. I've been learning to write with my mouth. It's uncomfortable, but I've gotten good at it. After I left, I spent my spare time drawing, and have become good at using my mouth to write. Maybe I'll even find one of my pictures again and post them in here! They're not that good, but I like them. Leon's lucky to have magic to work with.

I didn't know what to write, so I've been reading through the journal... and I understand now. Now I know exactly how my mom died. To think she did that. I've always known, but never really believed it. But to read the sadness of Leon, I now know it must be true.

Why mom, why?

Max went through so much pain. Max was such a nice man, and my mom killed him. He only wanted to help. I read the page where Max met mom, and the whole time I was almost screaming at him to run. I had to scream at a man to run from my mom. Looking into the past, I suppose it makes sense.

I remember reading that Leon wanted to know more about my mom, so here.

Mom was a strange woman, and I always loved that about her. She had fun little corks about her. She did not have a lot of friends though, and I think I'm starting to understand why. She had one or two friends, and whenever they were over they would send me off to my room. It wasn't that they didn't like me or anything, they were always talking about how smart and sweet I was. They just said they were doing adult things, and that I wasn't allowed. I was okay with that.

Dad was nice too, but he wasn't there for long. I remember when I was little, I'd hear yelling from mom and dad's room, and dad would come out with some bruises. I'd ask what happened, and he'd just say "mom's in a bad mood."

I suppose I should have seen it coming, then. One day dad left out of nowhere. I asked where he had gone, and she said he's too scared. I asked "of what," and she said he was too afraid of taking care of me. Somehow I doubt that now. She'd go to something called a ~~therapu~~ ~~thar~~ ~~therapisst~~ therapist to "help her." She never told me what that meant, but I think I know now.

Even threw all that, she loved me. She always told me I was her top priority. She always looked after me, sometimes too much, and she said she'd never let anyone hurt me. Then she went and hurt me in a different way.

After the Purge, as Leon calls it, Mom became afraid of everything. She always said that everyone I met wanted to hurt me. I didn't believe her, and ~~k~~now I know she's wrong. One day she went out for awhile and came back with red liquid all over her. She had cuts it was coming out of too, but she insisted it was tomato paste. She kept saying it only looked like she had cuts. She said she met a woman named Martha who gave her the tomato paste. Then she held me and rocked me and sang me a lullaby. The "tomato paste" got all over me.

It was very sticky and uncomfterble.

A week or so back, I've lost track of time, she said she was going to a grocery store. She said she thought there were two people there that she was going to get tomato paste from. She said as long as she got their tomato paste, they couldn't hurt me. She made some faces that scared me and left.

I guess Leon got HER tomato paste.

– Jamie

Dear Journal,

Today I went out and collected more-

Hey, Jamie wrote in my journal! Give me a second to read.

Oh dear God.

– Leon

P.S. When reading through the journal, I got so bored I started counting the words in each chapter. Only three have above one thousand words. I noticed that each of those was when someone new was introduced. The only exception was me. What does that say about me?

– Jamie

Author's Note

I will tell you this time around that any spelling errors are intentional. If not, pretend they are. This is the one chapter where I don't want any corrections. Sorry.

Also, if you're a habitual corrector like me, I'm sorry for the hell this chapter might've put you through.

Also, no one got the references from two chapters ago. I think it was two chapters ago.

Also, I hope I'm writing Jamie well. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I was a hyper-intelligent 12 year old (that's how old Jamie is. I can't remember if I ever said that.) While my classmates were learning what an atom was, I was learning about Ions and Isotopes. This year for example, while my classmates are learning about kinematics, I was learning about bosons and particle physic. This can make it hard for me to write as the average child when I only have my own experience to go off of, so I hope I didn't make him seem too smart or too dumb.

He is a smart kid, but not hyper-intelligent.

June 26, 2015

Dear Journal,

I confronted Jamie about what he wrote in the journal yesterday. I don't really know what to think. Barbara's not quite as blameless as I thought, I guess. I still can't help but feel bad for her. I wonder how her life would have played out, had this all not happened. I suppose I'll never find out. I hope there's an alternate universe where none of this ever happened, and she ended up better. I hope there's an alternate universe where none of this ever happened period. Onto Jamie's acceptance (stage 5,) I don't know whether to feel glad that I didn't have to talk to him about it, or terrible that he had to find out that way. He seemed okay. He's still very sad, but he's certainly much better. He eats three meals a day, and he's not trying to run away.

Heh, that rhymed.

Anyway, I asked him if he wanted to talk about his situation: what he thinks, how he felt at home, more about his mom. It took awhile, but he eventually opened up to me. His mom was very overprotective of him. You know how kids don't want to leave their mother when they arrive at daycare for the first time? Role reversal. He was pretty torn up whilst talking about it. He cried more than once during the whole thing, and it's finally hitting me:

I now have a child to look after.

A child who's mother died — by my hands no less — father left him, didn't have many friends, and has been trans-morphed into a pony-esque creature. Given all that though, he's handling pretty well.

In unrelated news, I ventured to a radio tower. I'm starting my mission to find the strange mare (I've been reading up on horses, apparently that's what adult female ones are called. I never mentioned it, but I love reading.) I made it to the station, and it looked abandoned. No, not like someone packed up for the night but never came back. That's how it SHOULD have looked. This place looked like someone was here, and ran quickly. Papers were strewn about on the floor, the door was busted down, glass was shattered by a seat near what I think was a transmitter. There was blood there too. Not like a huge trail, but like little droplets. Still not good. I turned on the transmitter and went to the emergency broadcast channel, and I turned the radio on, and said, "Hello, Hello, this is Leon Schmidt. I am broadcasting from... a radio tower. I don't know which one. I heard someone on the radio a few days back, is anyone out there?" I heard static back, but there were definitely words scattered throughout. The equipment had been damaged, so I couldn't fully make out the words. Whoever's out there definitely knows I'm here. I hope, anyway. It could just be a coincidence. I said to meet me at the grocery store, and I gave the address. I then left, went back to the grocery store, and relaxed for the rest of the day.

In magic news, I'm able to affect two items at once. I can lift my pencil, and I can nudge my journal while doing it. With my magic of course. Soon I may be able to lift both at once. A stallion can dream.

I got a sort of rush from calling myself a stallion, though I don't know if that's of pleasure or pain. Nonetheless, that's all I have.

– Leon

Dear Journal,

Leon was pretty nice today. He listend to me go on about home. Before the Purge anyway. I've made it a habit to read through his journal entries. So theres a woman out there? I hope she's nice.

I hope there are people my age at Bastrop. I'm very lonely, and while Leon is certanly company, I want someone to play with. I wonder... if mommy made it, maybe daddy did to! Maybe hell come back.

Hey, a ~~stallion~~ ~~colt can dream.~~

~~– Jamie~~

~~P.S. I corrected the stallion thing from him. He doesn't know the difference. – Leon~~

Author's Note

Remember, don't correct me during Jamie portions.

Feel free to correct me during Leon sections though. He has no excuse.

I'm surprised by the lack of people who commented about Human Leon

July 4, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today is July 4th. Jamie asked again if we're doing something for Independence Day. Why celebrate the independence day of a country that doesn't exist anymore? Whatever, it meant something to him. I got some cake for him. Turns out it's also his birthday. He's turning 13. He felt really touched by what I did when I wished him happy birthday and wrote that out of frosting. I don't understand why, but it meant a lot to him. The cake was stale anyway.

Independence Day means nothing. I'm making sure to write this down to preserve human history, but in the end it means nothing. No matter what happens, a birthday is important. The world can fall apart, as long as someone is alive, someone will have a birthday. That's special.

It's still early, so I'm gonna sign off for now.

– Leon

Dear Journal,

What Leon did for me... it really means a lot. He doesn't know why its so important to me. Back when everyone was here and human, my birthday was not important. Only mom cared. The others only cared about the holiday. It was nice to have my birthday mean more than the holiday. Even if I don't really know him.

I miss mom, but I am happy that Leon is here to help look after me. He really does his best to look after me. He's a good with order, and pretty smart, but not a people person. He's not good with me on a deep level. It's the thought that counts I guess.

–Jamie

Dear Journal,

You wouldn't believe what happened. Jamie and I went out to look at the stars (it may be a city, but when the power goes off all across the city the stars are much more quality) and a firework shot into the air. Multiple of them! A whole damn ton of them! The sky lit up. I jokingly told Jamie that there were exploding candles for him to blow out for his birthday. He had earlier told me it was his birthday. He laughed at that. It was nice.

I wonder if that's Martha setting off the fireworks. I'll find her yet. I promise

–Leon

Author's Note

Sorry this is so late.

The effects of the Dailey update are catching up to me. It's really late and I'm trying to push one out. I'll probably edit this tomorrow.

Maybe I should make multiple ahead of time like Starscribe...

NAH!

July 6, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today is July 6th. For many this date means nothing. It's simply two days after American Independence Day. To me, however, it means much more. Today is my mother's birthday. She'd be turning 56 today. She gave birth to me when she was very young: at the young age of 25. I miss my mom. I called her on my phone, and miraculously it went through. Someone must be screwing with the cell towers, or the satellites, or whatever this thing goes to. Obviously she didn't pick up, but I left a message. The message is as follows:

"Hey mom,

I guess you're... dead or something. Gone is the best I can hope for. Maybe you're in some sort of universe, looking for me? Well, today is your birthday. Happy 56th! I miss you a lot mom. I hope wherever you are, dad is with you to make this a bit easier. Maybe even Sam too. I'm sorry I can't make it, but I think you probably understand.

I'm too focused on survival and people, but I can only hope someone out there is trying to reverse all this. If they do, I'll be the first to tell you 'happy birthday.' I'll have one hell of a story to tell you.

On the off chance that you can hear me, happy birthday mom. I love you."

I really miss her. You don't know what you've got until it's gone. Now everything's gone.

I've decided to investigate the source of the fireworks last night. Many of them were fireworks, but some were flares. I don't know why that's important, I just thought I'd put it down on paper I guess. Walking the streets to get to where I saw it coming from, it's not hard to notice how much of a ghost town Dallas has become. Parked cars litter the street sides, broken glass from windows spread around the base of buildings. Certain weak or high maintenance structures have crumbled, some completely falling down. Out of everything that's changed, the dogs worry me the most.

They've gone beyond just packs at this point. They've begun to mark territory, and not just by peeing either. They patrol borders, stick together in a way that makes me think. They look more like a tribe than a pack, and now I'm forced to face the truth: these dogs are becoming intelligent. Like human intelligent. They're not quite there yet, not even close. They're making headway though, and they're not slowing down; if anything they're speeding up. I tried to pass through a building as a shortcut, and ran into a pack. They growled at me, and a put a hoof in the air and slowly backed up. Once I was about halfway across the street, they stopped growling and just looked at me, before resuming whatever it was they were doing. They understood territory, and retreat. They had created their own little borders. Needless to say I took the long way around.

I walked up a winding hill to a radio tower. This was my first guess as to where the source of the fireworks is as it fits the general direction they came from. This place looks pretty dilapidated on the outside, at least as much as can happen in this span of time. However, curiously enough places like the door and antenna are fairly well kept. Someone's here, or has been here. I'm writing outsi

ok, just calm do.

I'm in quite the predicament now, aren't I? While I was writing, someone snuck up behind me and put a gun to my head. She told me to stay where I was and don't turn around. She had an air of confidence and intelligence the entire time. I tried to ask he what she was doing, and she simply said "a test" and began prodding me along. She threw me in to an empty room, and that's when I saw her. It was a young... filly, I believe it's called? She looked to be about Jamie's age, but she didn't sound or act like it. She would be surprisingly dignified and intelligent for my age, but for a 13 year old, it's downright terrifying. She almost closed the door before throwing in my journal. She told me to write whatever I felt like. I asked her name, and she told me. She was Martha.

The genius who set up the radio, stole my journal and almost killed me in the process, has been watching me for over a month... she's a small child. I've seen everything now. She closed the door and locked it, trapping me in. She took my saddlebag with me, so no gun. Oh right, speaking of that she managed to modify her gun so that she could fire it. She was like Jamie: no horn or wing. I didn't get that good of a look at her, as it was dark.

I just hope Jamie's alright.

–Leon

July 7, 2015

Dear Journal,

Things aren't going well in here. Well, by that I mean I'm no closer to getting out than yesterday. Martha treats me well for a prisoner. She feeds me pretty well, I suppose. Lots of fruits and vegetables. Simple, yet very delicious. Strangely enough, she's fed me plants I didn't like all that much, or straight up didn't like when I was human. Things like zucchini or avocado. I never liked those things, yet there I was scarfing them down. Especially grain products. When asked how they were so fresh, she said "Sorghum is harvested around this time in Texas." I think that's a grain thing. Not too good with agriculture. Also lots of corn. I asked her why that was, and she kind of just shook her head.

She lets me keep my journal and update it, all that jazz. This brings up a question though: why did she kidnap me? Why is she holding me prisoner here? I did nothing to her. A few ideas come to mind:

She wants to use me as a slave. Given that I have magic, I imagine I'd be very desirable as a slave. She hasn't asked me to do anything yet, maybe she wants to assure I won't escape?
She wants to give me to someone else, as a slave or otherwise. The least likely of my guesses. I find it hard to believe there is anyone else here. Dallas is a big city, with a population of about six and a half million. Martha marks six survivors, of the purge that is. It's hard to believe that 6.5 million has been reduced to 6, but at the same time I find it hard to believe there's that many at the same time. But I digress, that would require someone else to know of me, and not have made contact. The only thing supporting this is that I find it hard to believe a child pulled all of this stuff off all on her own.
She wants to torture me. I think this is unlikely, though that may be the fear talking. She definitely didn't seem too impressed by me in the note she wrote me. Or maybe she was impressed in the worst way. Three things make this seem somewhat unbelievable: One is that I don't think a child is capable of that. That might just be me being naive, but I don't think it's possible. Two is that she's done nothing but treat me well since I got here, for a prisoner. That last fact bears repeating: even if she treats me nicer than she could I'm still a prisoner. The last ties into the previous: if she wanted to torture me than why hasn't she started already?
She's keeping me detained. This one is more like a prisoner than the other three. If this is the case, than I'm just a prisoner and nothing more. I did kill someone, and maybe this is her idea of justice. It's certainly possible, and I find this is the most likely one. There are no real problems with this idea, none that I can see anyway. She sure does act like I'm a prisoner anyway.

I imagine that #4 is the correct assumption, but I will remain suspicious of the other three.

That's all for now.

–Leon

Dear Journal,

I have been considering whether I should try to escape or not. One would question why I would even consider not trying. Jamie may not have entirely warmed up to me yet (I should say now that I may or may not have fluffed details in my journals occasionally. Not intentionally, I just...) but I still have to look after him. Besides, I have magic. I should be able to easily get out of here, right?

Well... I'm often considered to be smart. My friends would call me a nerd (as a term of endearment. I thought of it as a compliment) and I had some of the best SAT scores. But goddamn if this kid is such a genius it puts me to shame. She's smarter than me and she seems to be twelve! This is of course operating off of the assumption that she has no help. Honestly, it's kind of embarrassing. As a fifteen year old I was as smart, if not smarter, than most adults. She's twelve and smarter than even me. She's the kind that would win tons of awards. If humanity still remained, of course.

Back to my main point though. She's a genius, and I imagine she would plan for my escape. For all I know, she has automatic sentries outside the door, or claymores, or something. I don't want to risk getting myself killed, not yet. That gun modification she seemed to have though. That was definitely interesting. If I can learn exactly what she did, then I could teach other survivors that. Now that I think about it, I don't know if she modified the gun to be held by a hoof, or her hoof to act like a hand. If it's the latter, than that could change everything. If it's the former... well that's still good.

If I'm going to escape, I have to wait for the golden opportunity. I can't rush this. I have to think of everything, and it certainly doesn't help that I don't know the layout of the radio tower. If she only let me out more often, I could map this place. Again, I could use my magic to get out, but I don't want to risk it. That adds something to my theories, actually. I assume that, were my horn damaged, I couldn't use magic. Unless Martha knows more about magic than she's letting on, than I assume she feels the same. Why hasn't she cut off my horn? This adds more plausibility to the slaves idea, less to the torture idea, and prisoner could go either way. She may want to make me a comfortable prisoner, which would obviously make her not cut off a part of me. But it would be much easier to keep me detained without my magic.

I don't know, I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

– Leon

Author's Note

Well would you look at that? A +1K word chapter that didn't involve a new survivor? (I suppose Martha's new, but you know what I mean.) I'm so proud of myself. Onward to +2K!

It'll be awhile.

Anyway, I did some research on what plants are harvested in Texas around July 7th, and Corn and Sorghum were the ones. So there you go, I did research!

July 8, 2015

Dear Journal,

*written in somewhat legible handwriting*

I haven't had much in the way of entertainment while I've been stuck here. Mostly just a barely lit room. I could doodle in my journal, but I don't want to wear out the pencil, and I want the integrity of the journal preserved. So I've been practicing magic. I've been rapidly getting better. I tried a lot of tests with absentmindedly writing, writing while levitating the journals, et cetera. After many failed attempts (you may notice ripped out pages before this) I got it down. When you have all day to practice, and nothing else to do, you get stuff done. As I'm writing this, I'm levitating the pencil and the book, and writing down my thoughts while pacing around. Hopefully it looks okay.

I've been considering what to do, and after much deliberation I've decided to escape. My worries still stand, so I'll have to wait for the right moment. In the meantime, I'll try to learn how to gallop by going in circles.

Dear Journal,

Turns out a small room isn't a satisfactory area for horses to gallop. Who woulda' thunk it? I banged my head more times than I can count, and I stopped when I heard a crunch from where my alicorn is. I didn't actually damage my alicorn, but I don't want to take the risk.

Dear Journal,

I'm so bored.

Dear Journal,

I'M SO BORED!!!

Dear Journal,

I complained about being bored, and Martha brought me some cards to play solitaire. I lost... seven times.

Damn that five of hearts, it's out to get me I tell you!

Dear Journal,

Nighttime is rolling around, and nothing really happened today. The garden grown food is absolutely excellent, too. Here's something weird though: Martha gave me some milk. I told her that ponies can't have dairy products, and she shrugged and downed the entire cup! I drank some, and I feel just fine. I guess the milk I drank on May 29th was expired or something. Given what I did to the dairy freezer (It deserved it!) I doubt anything in there's still sanitary. Plus the electricity went off, so everything in the freezer probably... oh God THAT'S what the smell was!

I then asked for some meat to test my luck, and she said that our biology can't handle that. I was wrong about the dairy, but right about the meat. Anyway, I loved milk as a human. I would drink a gallon of milk a day. No joke. So... DRINKING THAT MILK WAS THE BEST EXPERIENCE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!! Screw learning magic, milk was the best experience. Then again, the experience of learning magic was a tad... soured for me, no pun intended. I don't believe in one, but if there's a heaven I wonder if Max is looking down on me. Hey Max, can I have some divine help to get out of here?

And the power shut off to the building... thanks Max!

Dear Journal,

I'm free! Well, sort of. Kind of. See, when the power went out I chose to stick to the darkest paths where the setting sun wouldn't illuminate the path. I managed to stick to the shadows and find my saddle bag. Using my new and improved levitation, I levitated my gun up, and loaded it with a bullet. I hoped I wouldn't have to kill Martha, but I was ready if need be.

I made for the exit, but I came across Martha. She made to stop me and I held the gun up, causing her to glare. I informed her that I didn't want to shoot her, I just wanted to leave unopposed. As I opened the door and stepped out, I heard the clopping of two hooves together. Against my better judgement, I turned around to she Martha on her haunches, clapping.

She informed me that this was all a test. She had seen the murders taking place around me, and she wanted to figure out if I was a psychopathic murderer or not. So she locked me up for two days, before purposely shutting off the power and confronting me in my escape. If I refused to kill her, than I was good. I then asked her what if I had tried to kill her. She responded by pulling out a gun I hadn't known was slung around her back and shooting a few inches away from me. Before I could get a good look at it, she put it away. I still don't think it was a very well thought out plan, but God damn if she isn't the most intimidating 13 year old on the face of this Earth.

So, Martha's now a part of our little squad. She insisted I stay at her place for a day as the "guest of honor" as apology for her doubts and poor treatment of me. She... REALLY insisted. I don't think I truly am free, at least for the night. Jamie should be okay, right?"

– Leon

Author's Note

Sorry for late uploads guys, I've been busy watching a ton of "Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood." Awesome show by the way. Also some "Doctor Who."

July 9, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was pretty interesting. Finally a glimmer of hope has been put in front of me. I don't mean like Bastrop, I mean to end all of this.

The majority of the day was Martha interrogating me. She asked me questions, mostly centering around my magic and "the curse." She started by asking me about my life prior to the Purge. I answered her questions. I was twenty-nine, lived alone, not in a relationship. She started going into my past times, what I enjoyed. I told her mostly video games and some reading here or there. I've gotten into reading a lot more since the Purge. Also my Gameboy Color. We're best friends now too.

Then she tried to press me for "the curse." In other words, she wants to know if I'm cursed to leave only the dead in my wake. I told her curses aren't real, and she responded with "two months ago, magical pastel talking ponies weren't real either." I suppose she had a point. No curse though, just really really unlucky.

Then she went over my magic. She started asking me my limits and everything. What I can and can't do. She asked if I can do anything more than telekinesis. I told her I'm sure that my magic allows it, I just haven't reached that level. She thought for a moment before she finally asked it. The question that made me finally get hope. If I have do anything magic...

could I turn us human again?

I think so, too! I could make us human, with enough practice. This whole thing could be over. I could save everyone. Maybe I could even use my magic to bring everyone back. To set things right...

maybe I could actually celebrate mom's birthday for real. I could celebrate it with her. Maybe I could meet Sam.

Later into the night, Jamie ran in. I asked him how he knew where we were, and he pointed behind him. A small pack of dogs was there. Apparently he had been wondering where I was, and they led him to us. I mentioned my surprise that they didn't eat him, and they.... glared at me. As if they were saying "How dare you assume we would eat a child." I don't know what scares me more: that they are seemingly intelligent enough to think that, or that I could presumably understand them. Then one of them threw some meat they had been carrying in their mouths as what seemed like a taunt. It sort of raised it's nose in the air in a haughty taunt before picking it up and walking away.

We had a healthy dinner before heading to sleep. It's been a long and strange day, but I can sleep well tonight with hope in my heart.

I can fix this all. I'll save everyone.

And I want some meat.

– Leon.

Author's Note

Dreadfully sorry for not updating yesterday. I knew I'd screw up eventually, just glad it was later rather than sooner. I was playing Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker along with watching a bunch of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. Then my dad, brother, step-brother and I marathoned Doctor Who until 12:30 in the morning. So... no real good excuse, but that's what I was doing.

July 15, 2015

Dear Journal,

Finally everyone's set up. These last five days have been difficult, but finally everything's packed into the houses. I don't know what took longer: getting our stuff together, or deciding on how we wanted to go about it. But the scanner's have been set up in everyone's room so we'll catch it. We spend our nights in the house, our days in the radio tower (or exploring if duty calls.) Poor Jamie's been trying to initiate conversations with Martha, but she doesn't pay attention. He finally gets someone his age to talk to, and she doesn't even care to talk to him.

I went exploring and found a pack of dogs, the same ones that brought Jamie to us. I gave them some meat rations (It had been awhile before Martha learned you couldn't eat meat. She still had some somewhat fresh meat in a cooler) as thanks, and they seemed pretty happy. I think I just made us a new alliance. Wow, I just made an alliance with a tribe of dogs. This place gets stranger every day. What next, they walk on two legs?

Oh God please no.

Martha and I talked about the logistics of the radio tower. She said she used a lot of gasoline to power a ton of generators. She said that soon the gasoline would expire and then that would be that. She's mentioned bio-fuel, but that's not a thing she knows a ton about. However, she did mention solar panels. If we can get a few installed on the tower and maybe on the house we'd be great. Having electricity would be great. I mentioned the speaker system from the grocery store and she said there'd be no point seeing as we have radios. Then I mentioned that it would be great for attracting people who are nearby and don't have radios, and she decided it would be nice. However, given our positions in a less... popular part of town (though now I suppose it's the most popular part of town) my current (or rather old) system wouldn't due. We'd have to get many speakers set up in different places. It would be quite complicated. New project, I suppose.

It rained today. It was nice. Jamie enjoyed running around in the rain. He splashed in a few puddles. For a thirteen year old, he really acts young for his age. I mentioned this to Martha, and we both shared a theory. Due to the apocalyptic nature of the Purge, he was frightened and scared. Most people his age would have been forced to grow up too fast, but with his mom there to protect him he did the opposite: he became entirely dependent. He reverted back to being a scared kid who couldn't do anything without his mom. He became like an eight year old. Now that she's dead, will he rapidly mature? I don't know, and to be honest I hope not. He invited Martha to play in the rain but she said no. He kind of ignored me. The kid puts up with me consistently, but he's very on and off with whether he LIKES me. To be honest, I think he treats me far better than he should. I killed his mother for God's sake! He seems to understand the circumstances though, so that's good.

I was worried he was going to get a cold, but he was fine. I warned Martha that medication was poisonous to us, and she seemed confused. She claimed she took some painkillers when she got a particularly nasty cut and was fine. Was everything I knew about us wrong? First dairy now this? The medicine definitely killed Max though, he didn't succumb to his wounds. I can't imagine what else would have caused that. Maybe the medicine was bad? Can medicine go bad? I'm pretty sure. Could he have overdosed? Unless Martha is lying or otherwise incorrect, that seems to be the most likely possibility.

I'm trying to convince Martha to write in here, but she said nothing happened really, so no reason. Same with even Jamie today. I had to explain to Martha that I see the journal as more of a recollection of events rather than a diary. A sort of history book. She got it pretty quickly; said she never understood the point of diaries. I agreed.

– Leon

July 27, 2015

Dear Journal,

Solar panels are finally installed. Martha helped instruct me on what to do. I was the muscle. I was always considered intelligent, but here I am being bossed around by a barely teenager. It frackin' sucks, but it's just a fact of life at this point. Jamie drew inside most of the time. His hoofwriting his very good. He told me he liked to draw as a human. I enjoyed drawing, but I was beyond terrible at it. I had many, many skills. I was quite well versed. The one thing I had no hope at in life was drawing.

Martha unveiled an experimental thing to me today. Or, not unveiled: I should say I stumbled upon it and she covered it up quickly. She told me she didn't want anyone to see it, not just yet. Some sort of brace or something. That's all I could get out.

We ate lunch together as a family today. I said that, and Martha punched me. She told me we weren't a family, not yet at least. We were allies, nothing more. She did say she was open to get to know us more though, and Jamie looked relieved to hear that. Finally he can mingle with someone his age. He's been starved for interaction. Back in the store, when we had nothing else, we had much more interaction — for better or worse. Now he's got nothing.

Speaking of which, we're running low on store supplies. It's been awhile since we've been there, a week and a half I think. We decided to head over there today. We'll be going in a bit, everyone's preparing.

– Leon

Dear Journal,

We've made it to the store. A large concentration of dogs were hanging out around here, growling at us as we passed. We moved on. None were provoked. We're stocking up on bread. We don't care if it's stale. We're about to head out, we just need to find a good container to

Dear Journal,

Oh God things managed to go downhill fast! Some dogs jumped us while I was writing. Martha and Jamie escaped together. I got pinned in a freezer. Doesn't do much freezing now, thank God. Some dogs went after the kids, but the majority stayed here. They're trying to get in. I don't have long before they make it in, and I don't know that I'll be able to make it out. In case the worst should happen, I want to write a proper farewell to the two. I don't have much to say, other than I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. With Martha here, I feel like I'm really no longer the alpha. Nonetheless, as the only adult the burden falls on me. Or, fell if you're reading this. Martha, take care of Jamie. Get him to Bastrop.

Oh God. One of the dogs picked up a wooden beam in its mouth. They can use tools now? Since w~

OK, they hit the glass and my pencil broke. I'm writing this in blood. They're getting through. Goo

Author's Note

Arkham Knight. That's all I have to say to explain why I didn't upload yesterday.

I Pinkie Promised I'd make it up to you. Tomorrow I have something super-de-dooper special planned! Another special thing is coming in a little while too, so leave suggestions in the comments for what you want to happen to the gang. Anything for any of the three. Seriously, anything! You never know, some of them just might happen.

Evening of July 27, 2015 [1 Month Special]

Martha stooped down as she picked up a package of bread with her teeth. Turning to walk towards the pile, she glanced down and noticed a tear in the bag, with mold forming on the inside. She grimaced with disgust as she dropped the bag and kicked it under the aisle. With a groan she turned to Leon, currently lying on the floor with his journal in front of him and his pen levitating with precise strokes across the page said journal was open to.

"You know, you could get up and help us," she said with another groan. She wasn't one for physical activity, though she was more than capable. She had a body that could support it, she just really would rather do as little as possible. Nowadays that wasn't really an option.

"Not now, I'm writing my journal," he replied, not even looking up. Having a unicorn to do the lifting, she thought, would be really nice. Too bad he's always to busy with that journal. It's a good idea, but kind of obnoxious. She heard something fall from across the aisle, quickly turning into an onslaught of slams as an entire pile presumably built up on the other side of the shelf.

"I'm okay!" came a muffled voice from where the pile was. Martha walked around into the row just as Jamie managed to dig himself out of the hill of cracker boxes. He smiled at her as she rolled her eyes and they both walked over to Leon. After yet another brushed off call to action, Martha and Jamie came to rest by the front door. Standing in the entrance was a dog, growling at her. Confused, she backed up as even more came growling in through the entrance. Jamie backed up with her as more started coming in.

"Leon..." A cautious voice spoke from her. Leon seemingly ignored it. That or he didn't hear it. Soon a legion of fifteen dogs were growling at the entrance. "Jamie... we need to go."

"What?"

"Run!" She yelled as she turned and ran, Jamie in hot pursuit. The dogs barked as Leon's head jerked upwards, eyes widening as he noticed the dogs. He quickly grabbed his journal in his magic and turned, as multiple dogs pounced on him. He sidestepped them and burst into a freezer, shutting it as snapping jaws slammed into the surface.

Meanwhile, Jamie and Martha ran and turned the corner of the shelf. They slowed down until they noticed the four dogs chasing them. They quickly turned the corner and galloped towards the door and burst out of the store as they began the chase down the street.

"Why don't you take out your gun?" Jamie panted, slowly falling behind Martha. Martha gritted her teeth and continued to run at full speed.

"I would lose the use of one of my legs! Right now, that's crippling!" She yelled over to him. Her eyes darted across the street, scanning the area around her for shelter. Spotting a building she remembered was unlocked from a previous mission, she began running towards it. She eventually reached the door and threw it open, motioning for Jamie to get inside. He nodded and threw himself past the threshold as Martha slammed the door shut. Pretty soon she began to hear thumping from the door as the dogs threw themselves against the door. Martha sighed and pulled metal rods out of her pack. "I guess it's time to field test these."

She attached the two metal mechanisms to herself and quickly set them up. Metal braces ran across her barrel and down her hind legs. She took a deep breath as she lifted herself onto her hind legs. A snap was heard as two tiny rods came out by her hooves with wheels attached to them. They hit the floor with a thud as her braces straightened out. Martha grinned and bent her knees as the braces bent along with them. She chuckled to herself. "Looks like I'm a biped now!" She reached into her bag and pulled out her gun. It was like any normal gun, but it had a pocket running along the side of it that she stuck her left hoof into. She then held her right hoof over the the firing lever and backed up against another interior door, pushing Jamie inside for his safety.

Soon a dog had the bright idea to jump through one of the windows, as Martha released the lever, and with a bang the dog was dead. Another one jumped through the open window and ran towards her. She pulled back on the lever and released, only to be rewarded with a click. Impossible! I didn't load my gun?! She backed against the corner as the dog gained on her, when suddenly a blur raced past a with a thud the dog was on the ground, Jamie standing over it with a frying pan in his mouth. Right, this place was a restaurant. The dog tried to get up but Jamie repeatedly smashed it angrily until its head split open and it played twitching dead on the ground. Jamie panted, anger painted on his face as tears threatened to come out. I'll have to look into that... if we survive. She grabbed Jamie and pulled him through the door into the kitchen as the final two dogs got in.

Jamie and Martha ran and took cover behind a long row of ovens when the dogs got into the kitchen. The dogs looked around for them before going on patrol to find them. Jamie and Martha held their breath as they turned and began to crawl past two rows and behind a row of shelfs. They began to crawl to the other side when a dog walks past them on the opposite face of the row. The two stop and hold their breath, hoping for it to pass. It eventually decides there is nothing there and continues, as the two quickly hurry to the other end of the room and hide behind a fourth row. Martha turns the corner and continues to crawl along the side, but Jamie knocks over some ladles hanging on the shelf. Martha makes it to the other side as a dog approaches where the ladle fell and begins sniffing around, only inches away from Jamie. Martha begins hitting a spoon on the ground to distract the dog from Jamie as the dog approaches the noise. Martha then positions her reflection to be seen by the dog, causing it to try to eat the reflections and thus slam into the wall and be knocked unconscious. Jamie runs into an industrial freezer as the last remaining dog gives chase. He makes it in as he slips on ice, causing the dog that had punched at him to crash into a wall. Jamie quickly recovers and runs out of the industrial freezer, slamming the door shut as he did and locking it from the outside. The two laugh at the dogs' failed attempt to kill them as they leave.

An hour later, and the sun has set on the city of Dallas as the two roam the streets, hiding from every dog they see to be safe. Sticking to the shadows, they crawl through the window of a now long abandoned house and shut the window. They find that the lights are, of course, un-operational and so they simply grab some long-stale bread for dinner and curl up for bed. Martha, unable to fall asleep, began to explore the house. It's a modest place: a small two story building. Looked like there was a little girl living there, but she wasn't there anymore. She wasn't anywhere anymore. Looking through some drawers, Martha finds an old journal. With Leon's journal with him, we'll have to record our misadventures in this dusty old thing. Martha sighs sadly and walks onto the porch and looks at the stars. More of them have become visible since The Purge. To be expected, I suppose. They are very pretty I suppose.

With Leon gone, it falls to me to watch over Jamie. I'll do just that. Her mind then flashes back to the incident where he killed the dog. That was far more brutal than necessary. Not only that, but h had a glint of hatred in his eyes whilst killing That could lead to something dangerous in the future. With one last sigh, she walked inside, closing the doors, and went to sleep.

Author's Note

Can you believe this story has been going on for a whole month?! To celebrate, there's a special chapter from yours truly. So special, I spent around three hours working on it! Rather than the normal 1 hour.

For those of you confused by what happened with the dog scene in the kitchen, here you go. I think you can tell who represents who.

July 28, 2015

Dear Journal,

We still haven't gotten anything from Leon. I'm becoming worried for him. He got traped in a freezer, I hope he made it out okay. Oh, this is Jamie by the way. Martha wanted me to update since she's garding. The dogs's numbers have been geting smaller. She said that it might be safe to check on Leon soon. Weve been living of the food of this house, staying inside most of the day, so there isn't much to report.

Martha's been stressed lately though. She keeps calling me a "burden." I don't think she likes me. Ill have to talk to her about that.

– Jamie

Author's Note

Remember, typos are for authenticity.

Cop out? What's a cop out?

July 30, 2015

Dear Journal,

It's been confirmed in my eyes, there are two rival dog gangs. I'll occasionally see skirmishes between dogs, usually with clear organization. It's hard to tell which belong to which gang, but they clearly know. They'll save each others' lives, double team enemies, avoid allies. One thing's been made clear: Dallas has been turned into a war zone. These dogs are getting smarter, disturbingly smarter. I even saw one carrying a torch. A fucking torch! Some have harnessed fire! I don't know what's more impressive: that they learned to harness fire, or that said fire didn't burn them.

Jamie's worried that Leon didn't make it, and to be frank I don't think he did. I'm really not all that worried, although the loss of magic could be crippling in the future. I'm sure I could invent something. Speaking of which, my bipedal braces (or B.B. for short) are working great! They can hold up to stress fairly well, as long as I don't take both hooves off the floor. It can't support my full body weight. Also, the wheels need more friction I think. I find moving with them on slippery, and slopes are most certainly not my friend. The former problem could be easily addressed by tightening some screws, the latter will be much more difficult to accommodate for. I'll manage.

I have yet to see hide or tail (that's now more literal than I'd like it to be) of that new person. I'm going to call it Sam. That's a good name for either gender. I didn't get a chance to see if it was male or female, so Sam will be my name for this mysterious person until further evidence comes to life.

Now what I'm most curious about was that Sam was completely fine walking with the dogs when I saw him/her. Could this tribe of dogs be friendly? Does Sam have some sort of connection to them that makes him/her good in their eyes? Some sort of deal? Are they even at the intelligence level to do that yet?

I don't know. I'm getting tired of this. Luckily it's been raining a lot lately. Like a downpour. Day after day for at least an hour, usually much more. I like it. I've always liked the sound of rain hitting the glass outside my house. It's always strange to think that those little droplets, so insignificant on their own, will evaporate into even lesser forms, but when combined they form great clouds, providing shade to those that reside below and fuel for the imagination. The smallest things can be great when they work together.

No real developments today, but we're going to see if we can maybe make our way back to the radio tower, and maybe attract Sam along the way.

– Martha

July 31, 2015

Dear Journal,

We're gathering attention. More and more dogs keep gathering around us. After leaving the place where we slept yesterday, we wandered out for a bit, avoiding dogs and such. I realized I left something behind, and ran back to get it. By the time I made it back, dogs were SWARMING the place. We made it out just in the nick of time it seems. Needless to say I didn't try to get what I left. It was just a sandwich. Probably tasted terrible anyways.

We continued our march and I swear there's a higher concentration of dogs around here. Skirmishes between the furry canines have been happening frequently. Jamie and I'd turn a corner to see a dog ripping another dog's throat out, or tearing off it's ribs, or something similar. Jamie's been having a rough time of it. Seeing so much gore isn't good for him, and it probably doesn't help that his mom suffered a painful fate as well.

As for the B.B, they've been holding out as well as always. No matter how much I want to walk around as a biped, and doing so is so much fun, I'm holding off as much as I can. I want as little wear-and-tear on a prototype as I can. Though I must admit for everything bad that's been happening, a field test has been great for these things.

Today as we were wandering we ran into a group of dogs. We didn't see them coming and they saw us. They stared at us and then began barking. Needless to say we ran. As I looked back at them though, I noticed they didn't follow. Even in hindsight I still wouldn't have stayed put though.

Something big is on the horizon... I can feel it. You know how people always say "animal instincts?" I guess they're a real thing. Something's coming.

– Martha

Author's Note

Away with the short chapters, away! The next will be bigger!

And remember, leave suggestions for anything you want to happen in the comments! I've got something big planned, and I want all the suggestions!

August 1, 2015

Dear Journal,

We met Sam. Or... well, that's not her name, but I'm just using that as a placeholder for now, and yes she's female. Disgustingly sweet too. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

Jamie and I did our normal routine, gathered food from where we stayed and ran. Something was different this day though: rather than dogs being everywhere we last were, they were in between us and the radio tower. They somehow were even anticipating where we're going to be! Well... that's not entirely correct, but nonetheless they're becoming disturbingly intelligent on a level that makes me curious as to how the other animals on Earth are faring.

Eventually some dogs saw us and began howling to the sky like a wolf howls at the full moon. Others blocks away began howling and soon it felt like the whole city was howling. We quickly ran into a house and barricaded the building.

My thought was if the dogs killed Leon, than he would've died as he lived... Hiding from what he fears.

I wasn't to go down the same way.

I pulled out my gun and B.B. and prepared for a fight. Dogs surrounded the building in formation. I told Jamie to hide (An incapable kid hiding is okay.) My gun was prepped, the dogs were closing in. The doors were barricaded shut, but the windows were open. I was ready to die. I heard steps getting closer and closer, and...

Then there was a knock on the door. A knock of all things. It was most certainly not a paw hitting the door. I've never heard a pony knock, but I imagined that's what hooves hitting wood sounded like. I moved the barricade and opened the door and... there she was. Admittedly she was a pretty mare. She had strong blue eyes compared well with a light blue coat. She had a pink mane that was cut fairly short, and brushed forward. She also had a long and thick tail that twirled and wound. The most prominent part of her though was the incredibly kind eyes and friendly smile she gave us.

She told us that the dogs were her friends, and she assured that they wouldn't hurt her. I stepped outside with the gun at the ready and observed the crowd of dogs, and noticed that none of them were approaching us. I asked her why we were attacked so consistently then, and she told me there was a gang of dogs out that were desperate for meat and willing to get it anywhere. They've been cannibalizing, but she told me that it's likely that a full and healthy pony was just too good of an oppurtunity to pass up. I then asked how her dogs got by. She laughed and told me they weren't her's, but that apparently they were literally friends. At this point in life I don't doubt it. She also told me that they were for the most part vegetarian. They respected humans, or ponies as it were, mostly thanks to her. She helped find them fruits and vegetables to eat, and in return they kept her company and promised not to eat ponies. An... interesting idea, to say the least.

She told me to come with them, and she'd explain everything along the way. I told Jamie it was safe and we moved out. She explained that dogs had come into tribes, each with their own leaders. Some of them, like the largest of them all and the one before us, were what humans would have called civilized. They have families, work together, and help others to survive. Some are great and completely open, again like the one we're with, and others have definitive territories and will harm unwanted trespassers but otherwise are open to others, such as the ones Leon encountered earlier in his journal. Other tribes, like the one in the grocery store, were what we would have called savages. They ate anything they could find and only left their own tribe mates alive. The allied dogs (that's what I've come to call the dogs that are friends to ponies, which is this gang for the most part) have been protecting us and trying to give us the safest passage. Turn out a good portion of the dogs we were hiding from were actually looking to bring Sheila and us together. That's the girl's name, by the way, Sheila.

Also, she gave us good news: Leon is alive! The allied dogs broke into the super market and rescued him, but not before he got beaten. He's in bad shape to say the least. Bloodied and cut in a lot of places, some may be very serious. She said he lost a lot of blood, and has been unconscious since they rescued him. That was days ago. They've been force feeding him a lot of stuff, exactly how I won't go into detail on, but it involves Sheila chewing the food. At this point I brought up how she can work with them, and she can TALK to them. Like she can understand what they say and they can understand her. Kind of strange. Then I noticed the strangest thing about her: she has a butt mark. What the hell, I didn't know ponies could get tattoos! Apparently she didn't either, it just showed up when she woke up from the Purge. It's of a dog with a happy smile. It kinda reminds me of the Smile Dog creepy pasta, and that in itself is enough to make me creeped out. She was a vet before the Purge, and always loved animals. Makes sense I suppose, it's pretty clear.

Jamie's very relieved to see Leon okay, but he seems pretty angry about something. I don't know what. Could it relate to what happened with the dog in the restaurant? I don't know, and I certainly hope not.

Putting down a survivor is the last thing I want.

– Martha

Author's Note

And thus joins the last survivor for a long while. I don't know if I'll ever bring in another survivor, but I will tell you if I do it won't be for some time.

May 30, 2015

Dear Journal,

I've been monitoring Leon's health, and he seems to be making a speedy recovery. Thankfully the biology is somewhat similar to that of an average horse, even if it is still quite differing. It has some almost human elements to the biology, which makes sense I suppose. I wasn't a doctor, but I did study up on human medicine, I thought I wanted to be a doctor before becoming a vet.

Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Sheila, but you've probably already gathered that. I must say this is very strange. Being a pony and all. I only became a pony a few days ago anyway, so I'm amazed at how fast the others adapt. One of them's already built something to walk on two legs, how did she do that in seven days?! It's amazing! Already finding a group so fast. I found the dogs, and they've been awfully kind. I've heard that this is some sort of ritual the others do, so I thought I'd join in.

Oops, Leon's making some noise, I'll be back!

– Sheila

Dear Journal,

Something's... strange about Sheila. No, not her overactive kindness. Not her butt tattoo, not her dog communication. There's something more there, though that's strange in itself. She's... amazed by anything. I didn't notice it when we first met her, as I was too confused by her, but she walks VERY slowly and deliberately. She's amazed at all the little things we've done. She's asked us how we're doing with our new bodies. Newsflash sweetie, it's been over two months. I don't think anything counts as new by that point.

I'll have to monitor her. I still have to make sure Jamie isn't as insane as his mother was. I've got a crippled pony, and a possibly insane pony to deal with. God, I never realized how refreshing Leon's presence was. I do hope he recovers soon, we need another hand around the house.

– Martha

Dear Journal,

Sheila's been nice to me. She's been taking care of me alot, cleaning me (which sometimes gets wierd) feding me. She showed me some of her dog freinds, and somtimes I felt like I could understand what they were trying to say, but never understod them like her.

I hope Leon wakes up soon, I kinda miss him.

– Jamie

Author's Note

All of them get their turn!

I don't know how many people read this, but seriously put suggestions in the comments for a special. Also, sorry if the quality is lower than normal, I'm in a bad mood.

August 6, 2015

Dear Journal,

Leon woke up! I was scared he would not for awile, but he did. Hes very tired and in pain, but he's awake. I might be able to get him to write later, but I don't know.

Martha talked to me about her problem with Sheila and I agree with her. Someting's wrong. I didn't notice it much at first, but now that she mentions it pretty clear. I've talked to her more, and she said this was her tenth day as a pony. Im confused. Maybe she's a time traveler, like Doctor Who? More like Doctor Whooves. Heh.

I told Martha this, and she told me something about disappearing and stuff. It was confuseing, but I got the idea. We combined ideas, that the humans were put into different points in time as ponies rather than disapearing into nothing. She said "I have no better ideas, lets go with that." I think she was being sarcastic.

– Jamie

Dear Journal,

Leon's doing well. Luckily he can eat by himself now, so that's a plus. He heals quite quickly, is that a unicorn thing? Do all ponies heal quickly? Or is it just the way his body works?

I've become disturbed by what my dogs are telling me. Apparently the city has become a war-zone. There's a big tribe of hostile dogs that are attacking my friends. They seem to have united to eat ponies. They're trying to convert my friends to their savage ways. Luckily most of my friends are too kind and loyal to leave me, but we've had a few deserters. I'm scared, but Martha said she'd protect me, and I trust her.

I don't know what's stranger, that my life is in a young girl's hands, or that I actually trust her. This new world is full of it, huh. But something I have noticed is my friends have been saying weird things. Just the other day we met a small group of nice dogs that said they are friends of ponies because Leon gave them meat a month or so ago. How could that be possible, he wouldn't have been a pony then.

What's going on here?

– Sheila.

Author's Note

I swear it's hard to write how I think a thirteen year old would write. I was a genius child, so I wrote nigh perfectly (spelling and grammar, that is) when I was that age. Or at least, the errors were so small they were easily missed by anyone that wasn't themselves a grammar genius. However, I always found that all other kids when I was that age made a ton of errors, so I feel like I'm portraying thirteen year olds to be dumb, rather than error prone as they actually are. Nonetheless, Jamie's becoming a better writer!

Also, something I should mention: As you probably saw yesterday, my uploads will be inconsistent for the next two weeks or so. I'm on vacation with my family, so wifi and free time are hard to come by. I'll do as much as I can though!

August 7, 2015

Dear Journal,

Hey guys, guess who's back? It's me, Leon! To be honest, waking up was probably a bigger surprise than the Purge was. I fully expected to be dead, but maybe there is an intelligent force up there trying to protect me. Probably not though. Hey, if you're up there, mind changing me back to a human? No? I thought so.

A few things I need to talk about: Martha and Jamie informed me on Sheila's... condition to say the least. Something about the disappearances actually be time travel? I asked them how they knew this, and they gave me what little (basically one thing) evidence that they have. Sheila doesn't remember the past two months. I suggested amnesia, and they both shrugged. We asked her if it was possible she had amnesia, but she did a little examination of herself and concluded that it was impossible. The only way is if she suffered major psychological trauma, but no way that would have happened. We didn't care to tell her that in this world that's more than possible.

Nonetheless, I haven't decided to accept it like Jamie. I'm more with Martha here: just another theory with little substance behind it. Sure though, it's nice to think that some day everyone will come ba-

Oh God, what about Max's family? If they're right, then Max's family will come back only to find him dead. There's no telling how long until the time travel would affect everyone! What if my family comes back centuries from now to find that I died long before they arrived?! Though... maybe they would arrive in my lifetime. Could I really see my family again?!

I like this theory, it sounds plausible enough. Let's go with it!

Now, the other matter of business: Sheila. Perhaps I should have talked about her first, but oh well. It's too late now, huh? Now, of all the awkward ways to wake up, this had to be the worst. I woke up to her kissing me. Now, I say that though it isn't really true. While I was down, apparently she fed me by... chewing my food and spitting it up into my mouth, then forcing me to swallow. I don't want to think about it. She claims she didn't like it either, but that with all care taking equipment either down, outside her knowledge of usage, or both, she had no choice. I woke up with her in midspit, her lips touching mine. Yes, the food did go into my mouth. Yes, it did come out soon after (along with a good majority of the meals prior.)

Sheila's very kind though. Other than that one awkward incident she's done nothing too noteworthy. She's been absolutely sweet. She's watched over me a lot and made sure I got everything I needed. Luckily, all the meals proceeding my wake up have been chewed and swallowed by your's truly.

Another noteworthy thing: I don't need to inform you about Sheila's butt tattoo as I'm sure the others have. Turns out, Martha has one too! Her B.B. (she told me about them. SO COOL!) had been covering it. It's of a shield with a wrench over it. Between Martha and Sheila, we've come to a theory: these things represent what one loves or is good at. Sheila is a vet and loves animals, so she has a smiling dog tattoo. Martha works with machines, and uses them to protect herself and others, so she has a wrench and shield. I don't know how they show up, but I'm a talking unicorn. I'm not one to talk, though I suppose I am. That joke was bad, I'll leave now.

– Leon.

Dear Journal,

Yeah, so apparently I got a butt tattoo. That's strange. Jamie keeps staring at it, which is like staring at my butt so it's weird. I am apparently good at protecting... why can't I bring myself to do my job? Tomorrow I'll tell Leon about Jamie's episode, and we'll figure out what to do. Hurting a comrade, Jamie in this case, may be necessary to protect many more. Apparently that's what I'm good at.. so why in the hell can't I bring myself to confront Jamie?

– Martha

August 9, 2015

Dear Journal,

God damn it why would this be so hard?! If I had to kill Leon, I would! It would suck, but I would do it easily. Hell, even Sheila. This kid has been nothing but a nuisance to me the whole time we've been together, so why would it be so hard?

I suppose it has something to do with how he seems to care for me a lot. That kid's nigh intolerable, don't get me wrong. It's nice to be genuinely cared for though. God I gave my parents so much hell when they were still here, and they did nothing but love me. What kind of daughter was I? I miss them. I miss them so much. Those little kisses on the cheek they gave me every night before bed? I hated them so much. Now I find myself awake at night waiting for them to do it again.

Stop getting distracted! I... I have nothing more to say.

Martha

Dear Journal,

Jamie approached me today with a strange question. He asked me to clarify that I "knew animals," which of course I said yes to. He then asked me what it means to "put an animal down?" Of course I told him it means to kill it, and he reacted strangely. I asked him where he heard that term, and he said he overheard Leon and Martha talking about it, and then sulked off. I wonder what's up with him?

Sheila

August 15, 2015

Dear Journal,

As you know, the last few days have consisted of me and Martha planning to attempt to psychoanalyze Jamie, and with the day finally upon us, we've decided we don't need to! I mean... it was probably just an overreaction. We've only seen one instance of this, no cause for concern yet. No real reason, right?

Oh, I sure hope so.

In different news, our long term plan has changed significantly. Rather than heading south to Bastrop, we'll be heading north. We want to spread the word of the colony as much as possible. We'll leave two people at home, and two will go out to spread the word. We've already decided on the groups. Jamie and I will go out, while Sheila and Martha will stay here. We need a defender to stay home and provide protection to anyone who might wander into our war-ridden town. Sheila will act as the sweet person to make them want to stay, and heal any wounds they may receive. I'll act as the ambassador and the diplomat for our group, and having a cute kid by my side should seal the deal. All thought out.

First thing's first: Martha's gonna rig a car to be drivable by ponies. She told me it won't take long at all, so we'll see how that goes. We're gonna head to some major capitals and come back. We can't be out for too long: we don't have a farm to carry with us. We're gonna go through New Mexico and head west first off.

Our final destination: Pheonix.

Once we get there, we'll search the city for survivors, try to convince them to join us. If they do, great! If not, tell them about Bastrop and move on. Then we'll come back, search smaller cities we missed on the way, and come back to Dallas to find everything in one piece! That's the plan anyway. I don't count on it working that way.

– Leon.

Author's Note

Soldier: Another crossover inbound! What do we do sir?!

Me: *pulls off shades* Play the hell out of it.

August 18, 2015

Dear Journal,

Preparations are continuing to be made. We want to try for a week's supply of food for the two of us. I used some maps I printed off of Google Maps way back when. I combined them with some maps I found here or there, and manage to chart the best way. Turns out I won't be stoping in New Mexico nearly as much as I thought I was. We won't be passing through many big towns. We will be stopping by Tucson though. Remember that show, "The Last Man on Earth?" That was set in Tucson. Aired not long before the Purge. At least I think it was Tucson. I feel like that guy sometimes.

We've got about a half week's supply of food stored and preserved. By week's end we should be good to go. Martha's making good progress on modifying a car. She's got the gas pedals down, now she wants to make the steering wheel easier to control with hooves. Good luck with that Martha.

On another note, the war stopped! At least for now. The other side has enough dog corpses to eat that they're satisfied for awhile. As much as we hate it, we fed Sheila's "friends" what dog carcasses we could find. Cannibalism is disgusting, but they NEED meat. Veggies will prolong their life, but not sustain it. They need protein, and even beans weren't enough for that. This should keep them kicking for awhile.

Martha's began receiving some sort of... thing on the radio. Been awhile since I've talked about that, huh? Yeah, that system's still running. She's getting something, though she can't figure it out. Something's screwed up. She's been getting it for a few days, but wasn't sure that it was actually someone. Now she knows someone's out there, trying to contact us. We don't know where, or who, but someone's out there. She's... mostly sure. I hope we can find them.

Before the dogs do.

– Leon.

Author's Note

Just recently my Like-View ratio dropped below the steady >10% it had kept up this whole go. I'm sad.

I also watched Ant-Man a day before it premiered. So yay!

August 21, 2015

Dear Journal,

We've finally packed enough supplies. We have enough food stored to be able to support ourselves, should we be unable to find food. Speaking of which, we noticed something strange a few days ago, but I forgot to mention it. Sheila had wanted to try her hand at farming, and Jamie decided to give it a try too. Thus far Martha had been the only farmer. Funny, you wouldn't think her a farming kind of girl. She does what she has to though. Anyway, back on topic. Sheila and Jamie both tried their hands at farming. Martha decided to not tell them how to farm. Or maybe no one asked, and she forgot? I don't know why, but one way or another no information got to them. This all started awhile ago, by the way.

A few days ago we noticed that Jamie's crops had begun sprouting out of the ground. Like, it was noticeable. Martha had planted some new crops at the same time, and the same was true for her. However, Sheila's weren't showing up. Upon checking on them, we found that they were dead. Martha's crops being successful we understood, but why were Jamie's more successful than Sheila's? They both had about the same level of experience, and they shared their knowledge on farming with each other for the most part.

Well, I suppose I should mention something. Now this is going to sound crazy... there's really no point in saying that anymore. Everything's crazy now. Anyway, as I've gotten better at magic, I've noticed something. I began feeling more... connected to the world around me. It's like there's a slight pull on your body in every direction. It's there, but it's not there. It feels like your body is melting into the world around you. It's very faint, but it's there. For the longest time I've just dismissed it, but I finally mentioned it to every one (well, Jamie and Sheila. Martha was busy.) They both seem surprised, and said they felt something similar. Jamie said he felt a pull towards the ground, but that for him it felt stronger than how mine sounded like. It felt wholesome, and it felt more like the ground was fusing with him rather than seeping. Sheila said she felt like the air itself was passing through her often. She felt a tug at her wings, a restlessness in them. They kept feeling like she was pulled to the sky.

Now to my theory. I believe every organic thing has magic in it. Or at LEAST ponies, unicorn or otherwise (am I the only unicorn? I have yet to meet another.) I've observed the body structure of the three types of ponies I've met, myself included, and with two of each to look at I've made observations. Both Max, bless him, and Sheila both have leaner and slimmer bodies than the others. Not to mention their wings. Built for aerodynamics, well as best as a horse can be. Now Sheila claims to feel a pull to the sky, especially at her wings? I believe she has magic flowing through her wings.

Jamie, Barbara, and Martha were the thickest of the bunch. Well, Jamie and Martha are a little slimmer than me, but I'm also older. The ratio is bigger though. Anyway, they have more muscle, and are the only ones without special features. They specialize in the ground it would seem. I talked to Martha later and she said she had that same pull. Maybe they're connected to the ground? That would explain Jamie's crops growing better. We need a name for that species. I'm unicorn, we have a pegasus... let's see, they're connected to the Earth. I'll call them... Dirt Ponies! Yeah, I like that.

Why do I think it's magic? This is that thing I mentioned I've been feeling but wrote off as nothing. As my magic got stronger, another feeling came in. The seeping feeling got stronger, but there was a sort of heightened awareness. There's no way for me to explain it, I felt like I could FEEL the world around me. Like I was seeping out, but things were seeping in too. Whenever I'm around a pony, that feeling is stronger in their direction. THIS they haven't felt. Can I sense magic? It's a very far fetched theory, but I think it's plausible. At this point, anything is.

Well, we're done with the ramblings of a mad pony. We're still not ready to leave for Pheonix just yet. We need to make sure everyone's set up and ready. I expect that by ten days we'll be in Pheonix! Onwards and upwards!

– Leon.

Author's Note

I've been wondering: given some of the stuff that's been happening, should I add a dark tag? I don't know... I don't think there's enough substantially dark stuff happening to qualify.

August 24, 2015

Dear Journal,

We'd thought we'd have left by now, but turns out we were wrong. We needed to make sure we had all of our radios up and running, and have us much variety in radios as we can so that other ponies can radio us if necessary. Good thing we stayed too, as Martha had something up her proverbial sleeve. She made a BB for me! She thought we could use it to impress any ponies we met, as well as intimidate them if necessary. I asked for a copy of the blueprints to gift to other ponies, but she denied. She is afraid that if we give them BBs, they might use them against us. I, quite frankly, find that absurd. I doubt other ponies are as war-centric as we are here.

Let me rephrase that: I HOPE other ponies aren't as war-centric as we are.

We're finalizing the basic plans, and we've confirmed that we're going to be finishing our round at Phoenix. I gave the others the idea of packing food explicitly to gift to others as a sign of goodwill. We all found it unlikely that others would have started growing early enough to have fresh crops, and I imagined they'd like a break from all the canned crap. Even Martha was on my side in this one. We're packing food for any other ponies as we speak. Well, as I write anyhow. We think that we'll be leaving tomorrow. Depending on how long each city takes, and how much of it we decide to search, we should reach Phoenix somewhere between the 27th and the 30th. I mean, Dallas to Phoenix is only around 14 hours, but searching each city's going to take up a lot of time.

While I'm gone, Sheila and Martha are going to be focusing their efforts on finding the source of the radio signal. If it's somewhere in Dallas as we suspect, they may need serious help. If it turns out that they're outside of Dallas, we could warn them to stay away from the war ground, or ask for help if things get that bad.

Jamie is really excited to see new ponies. He's hovering around me as I write this, constantly buzzing and saying how excited he is. When the only people you have for companions is this little band of misfits, I suppose you'd want out as much as possible. In fact, he suggested that we run away from Dallas and live somewhere safer. But we couldn't do that. Martha had no real qualms doing that, but Sheila wanted to look after her "friends." I... I just can't.

I was born and raised in Dallas, both my old life and my new one. This place is home. You could drop a nuke on it; it would still be home. All of the work I've done here... my human museum, the good old store... Max.

Max died believing that this city could become a safe haven for ponies, a colonized place where lost or confused ponies could make their way to for family, friends, and a normal life. God damn if I'm going to let that ideal slip. One day Dallas will be safe. I'll... I'll make sure of that for Max.

I suppose in the end we're persevering, and that's a miracle in of itself. We'll get there one day. I'd love nothing more than to one day be a veteran of this war. The dogs will eventually kill themselves to oblivion.

I can only hope that we don't go first.

– Leon.

Author's Note

Guess who's back, back, back, back again? Me you big dummy! I had some problems, particularly with the crossover. The other person wouldn't get back to me. However, it's done now. It took seven hours to write and spans 21 pages. Once condensed into journal format, I don't know how long it will be but still!

Prepare your butts for a crossover of awesomeness and adorableness and hopefully not death.

August 27, 2015

Dear Journal,

We've packed what little stuff we had taken out of the car. Jamie has become smitten with this action figure he found in a store while we were taking a break. It's this little soldier guy with some really cheesy warpaint on. He can't even play with it well due to his hooves, but he still loves it. It helps, anyways.

We're back in the car, and Jamie's sitting in the front seat this time. He sat in the back seat yesterday, but today he said he has a good feeling and wants to see everything. We didn't get a ton of sleep, but it's still enough to make us feel refreshed and not QUITE as frustrated. Well, except now, Jamie's poking me to stop writing and get moving.

Phoenix, here we come!

Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God! Our searches have payed off, and so much more than we could have ever imagined! There are people here! And not just like one or two, but like... uh... ALOT! Jamie's celebrating by himself over there, but I have to cool my jets a bit and write my journal. Okay... okay, I'm calm. Here we go:

So Jamie and I were driving through Phoenix, honking along. Jamie and I got into a bit of an argument over the effectiveness of this strategy: Jamie was complaining that it was useless and I was saying it's all we've got, when suddenly a car comes out of nowhere and a pony steps out! He was a stallion, he was worried for our health! I guess if some drivers were randomly going down my road honking, I'd be worried too. Funny thing was, and at the time I didn't notice them as I was practically screaming with joy, is he wasn't that shocked to see new people. Until, that is, I said we were from Dallas. THEN he flipped out. Flipping out isn't really the right word I guess, but he took notice. The whole time Jamie was squeeing and hopping around out of joy. He radioed some people (I know who they are now, but at the time I didn't) about what they should do with me. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but someone sounded really excited on the other end.

He ended up bringing us back to the colony. Nothing much happened on the way, but when we got there... I... I'm sorry.

Okay, I had to take a little crying break. It was beautiful. Funny thing is, looking back on it it really wasn't that impressive. Some unfinished houses in a gated community, a few more well developed houses, and a lot of empty space. But... no dogs! No violence, no gore! It seemed... normal. As normal as normal can be in this scenario, of course. At the time I was so overwhelmed, I almost seemed calm. Do you ever get that thing? Same was happening with Jamie. At least, I presume he wasn't too calm, given that he's currently rolling on the ground and borderline frothing at the mouth.

Around this time, the stallion introduced himself as Levi. So, what I've learned about Levi: Nice, but perpetually calm. Funny, out of the three people I've met, two of them have that same kinda personality. Nice but always calm. Except for... well, you'll meet her in just a moment. We were to be taken to Jessica, who is a guy. Kinda strange, but I'm not gonna question it. We were brought to what I presume to be their base and introduced to two more ponies: the aforementioned Jessica and Scott... who is a mare. Again, weird naming choices. Furthermore, remember how I mentioned two of the three are perpetually calm? Scott is the exception. When she met us, she jumped off the couch in excitement like a spring. Well, she tried but Jessica stopped her. I imagine she's injured.

Anyway, we had a little chat. Turns out they have eleven survivors, beating us out. I mentioned this and got a little... depressed. So yeah, good job me. Then Jamie said to them that I have "survivor's guilt," and I scolded him. Luckily the other ponies didn't hear. I'm definitely talking to Martha after this excursion about that. Oh, speaking of Martha, I stole the blueprints to the BB to give to the ponies here. I haven't yet, but I'm waiting. Anyway, back to the story... sorry, I'm so excited my mind is everywhere.

Scott and Jessica got into a little argument and we left before we could hear too much. Levi took us to the house where we'll be staying the night, the one we're in right now. We were told to stop here, do what we need to do, then head to the "second house from the end on the left." So, now that this is done, I'll be heading over there. Fill you in more in a bit!

Great, I think I traumatized the nicest ponies on Earth.

I'm back again as I wait for dinnertime to come about, so I guess I'll fill you in on what has happened since I last left off. The building we were to go to had everyone from the colony in there. I never thought eleven people in one place would seem as huge as it did then. We all sat down together and they asked the question I had been afraid to answer since the beginning.

"So, what's it like in Dallas?" It was... hard to tell them, and I'm ashamed to admit that I broke down and Jamie had to tell them everything. He's just a little kid and he's handling this better than me. We told them an abridged version of our story, and guess where I broke down? If you guessed Max's death, congratulations! You're not a damn idiot. I got into another self wallowing pity session, and Jamie had to take over the whole damn story. Maybe Jamie was right. I wonder if there's any way to fix that... to fix me...

A-anyway, when the story was finished, everyone kinda just stared at us. They were all in shock, and it took them a few minutes to be able to speak again. I suppose they're utopia is just as unreal to us as our dystopia is to them. The pony, I think it was a pegasus, looked downright ashamed for asking the question. Even going so far as to apologize. We assured her it was no big deal, and asked them what it was like there. If my version was abridged, there's was even more so. I remember exactly what they said, it was so... strange. Scott said "“Well, it was hard at first, because there were so few of us. And then there was magic, and flying, and food that grows way too fast, and coyotes. A lot of coyotes. But after we settled in, we decided to start searching. We combed the entire valley, taking the canned food, preserving the diesel fuel, and looking for other people. All of us together then started improving. We made some lofty goals, failed miserably, blew up some stuff, but everything’s been getting better so far.” I wish I knew exactly what happened, particularly with the blowing stuff up portion (any chance to make bombs would be much appreciated.) but I doubt I'll ever ask for more detail. We all decided to celebrate and have dinner in a park when the time came.

I approached Jessica after the fact and thanked him for all that he had done for us and was continuing to do, and of course (I had come to expect this out of his character, even after knowing him for such a short time) he brushed it off like it was nothing. I had a little trip down memory lane. I miss the times when my biggest concern was learning magic, and not "will I wake up tomorrow?" Back when my biggest concern was "will Max shut up?" If I knew what would have happened, I would have let him talk all he wanted. He was so young too. I'm not particularly old myself, but he was only 21. He was hardly even an adult. I... I let him down. No... no, now's not the time. I'll just... finish my story. Besides, there's good news. Really, really good news, and I just... let me take a break to become emotional neutral.

I'm back. Again. Let's see, where was I... Oh, right! Jessica gave me some comforting thoughts: things always get better. Normally that sounds like bullshit people say to comfort you, but seeing living proof that it does get better was really helpful. Anyway, we decided to set up a radio link between Dallas and Phoenix whenever we get the chance. I think we'll do it tomorrow, I'd rather rest today, and I can't stay for over a day. We talked a bit about the various jobs the different people around here do, and then came the big one. The great news.

Remember when I said Scott was forbidden from getting up the first time we saw each other? Well I saw more of that, and I asked Jessica if she was sick, and guess what? She's not sick, she's PREGNANT! There's a foal on the way! This... oh my God, this is amazing, it's... oh my God, it's... I shouldn't have to explain why this is a huge deal! Turns out, Jessica is the father! I congratulated him in my own little... overzealous way, and... God, I'm still in shock! This is huge! Also, Jessica brought up something that made me think he wasn't always a guy... that would explain the name? Can the Purge gender bend? Maybe the term "Purge" is no longer very accurate, especially with our new theory. Speaking of which, I'm gonna tell the assembled group about that after dinner. Anyway, I told him (her? Eh, I'll stick with him.) that I wish to tell my friends in Dallas as that would make them very happy, and he was glad to hear that he could help. We parted ways until dinner.

Now here I am, back in my little house. I suppose I should talk about Jamie. He's been great this whole time we've been here, he's been so happy! Again, he's practically frothing at the mouth when he heard about the foal. He's been rattling on to me about how happy he is, and how he wants to meet it when it's born, and yadda yadda. Turns out he was great with babies, and loved them when he was human. I'll have to bring him back here when it's born. well, assuming we're both alive and I don't somehow screw everything up.

Dinner should be happening soon, and I'd like to walk around before hand (hoof?) so for now, farewell!

Well, the day's finally winding down to an end, and what a day it was. Dinner wasn't a huge affair. Everyone gathered and pulled out the crappy cans of soup and stuff, and then Jamie and I were like wizards, all like BAM and we pulled out the corn and bread. Everyone got one cob and half a loaf, and it was great. Everyone was really happy, it was a good time. They told a lot of in jokes at the table, and I kinda just laughed along politely. After dinner, I had business to do.

I also considered bringing Martha and Sheila up here, as the happiness around the table is very therapeutic, but then I realized that Martha would worry for her friends, and Sheila would say something along the lines of "it's not productive." So yeah, maybe not do that.

After dinner, everyone moved to a field to stargaze and enjoy themselves. Then I decided to make my move. I began by telling them about the colony in Bastrop, but Jamie quickly pointed out that they clearly have their own colony, and don't need another. So, I switched gears. I told them about the time travel, about all our crackpot theories. When I was done, I expected one of two reactions. Either they'd be happy, or call me insane.

What I didn't expect was for many of them to start crying. As it turns out, many of them meet the condition I had talked about: Appeared later than everyone else with no memory of what happened before and appearing new to their body. I gave them hope: that those they loved would return to them. I guess it was overwhelming.

I opted not to tell them that I didn't know if they'd appear in the same place, or even if they'd appear within their lifetimes. I began questioning how so many ponies there had appeared out of time, yet only one in Dallas, until Jamie brought up a terrifying point: what if more did appear, but were slain by the dogs?

We've elected to not go to Bastrop, and instead remain in Dallas until we've secured the city. Then and only then will we consider going to Bastrop. I suggested they set up radios every few blocks so that new survivors can call in and be found, and they seemed to take to that idea.

Everyone started cleaning up, and we headed home, but not before Jamie yelled "Good luck with the baby!" To Scott. He seemed a bit shocked and flustered by that, and I talked to Jamie about that.

Now here we are. It's been the most refreshing and exhausting day in a long time. But here I am. I can only hope Martha and Sheila are doing well back home. Jamie's already fast asleep, and I'm gonna go to sleep soon myself. Let's see, I need to close with something good. Oh, I got it:

I LOVE PHOENIX!!

– Leon

Author's Note

And thus ends part 1 of the crossover withThe Last Phoenician by Razzle Dazzle
It took until this chapter before I learned to spell Phoenix like "Phoenix" and not "Pheonix." I also...

*checks word count*

I GOT 2K+ WORDS!!! I DID IT! I'VE BEEN TRYING FOR MONTHS AND I DID IT!!

Thank you Razzle... bless you.

August 28, 2015 (50th Chapter Special)

Leon yawns as he wakes up. He gets up and prepares to tell Martha to take off guard duty before remembering that he’s in Phoenix. With a smile he goes back to bed. No more waking up at 3:00. Not for now anyway. One night off. He goes back to sleep.

Jessica heads out of his room and starts preparing breakfast for the five other people in the colony who share this house. He puts some dried fruit into two bowls and takes them into the dining room of the house the two guests are staying in, setting them down on the table.

Jamie wakes up with a yawn and slowly walks out of his room. Checking the watch he always kept (Martha modified it to fit his hoof) he finds it to be pretty early. Most people aren't quite up yet, but Jamie is so used to waking up early in Dallas he couldn't help it. He hears some clattering from the dining room and walks out to see Jessica. He smiles at the stallion and takes one of the fruit bowls, giving his thanks.

“I’ll watch the second one. Leon deserves to sleep late.”

Jessica smiles back. “Sure thing. Come back to the main house when you’re ready.” He trots off, back to making breakfast for Scott and the others. They wake up eventually, trudging out of their rooms and slowly waking up. Helping them was some coffee Levi had grabbed and taught everyone how to prepare in a post-apocalyptic colony. It did its job, and the ponies slowly begin to work on their various projects.

Leon eventually gets up and Jamie hands him the fruit bowl. Not for the first time, and most certainly not for the last time, Leon finds himself wishing he could still eat meat. Nonetheless, it tastes fantastic. Leon doesn't even bother to question how they had gotten the fruit, it's delicious.

After eating, he makes his way to what he vaguely remembers to be the main house, as per Jamie’s proxy instructions, and begins to look around for someone. I need to establish radio contact before I leave.

Jessica sits in the same position he did the day before: on the couch with Scott lying beside him. Even on the days she felt fine, he still insisted that she rest.

He looks up from her. “Hey, Leon! You’re up! Anything in particular that you want to do today?”

“Actually, yes!” He responds enthusiastically. “Unfortunately, I’ll likely be leaving today. Before I go I want to set up radio communications between our groups, so we can talk and request things or whatever comes to mind.

“Okay,” Jessica says. “I have no idea how to do that. But Dana does." He presses a button on the CB radio in front of him. “Hey, Dana! Can you come to the main house? We’re gonna set up a line with Dallas.”

A voice comes over the line. “Sure thing. I’m on my way.”

The pink unicorn is in the house in five minutes, and it’s clear why he sent for her. On her flank is the image of a radio antenna with a heart over it.

“So, she says, “A communications system between us and you. It would have to bridge almost one thousand miles. I’m sure a good ham radio with an 8 foot antenna would bridge the gap. A CB radio with a 100 inch antenna and a 750 amp system would work, but at least you can see where someone keeps a ham. I say we do that.”

“Yeah, we have all sorts of crap running. Martha knows a lot about radios, I’m sure she has one of those going. Do you have one of those radios?”

Scott speaks up. “I think there’s one by my dad’s place. I remember a pretty tall antenna a few houses over, and I think my dad said that was a ham thing. I can go check.”

Jessica starts to protest, but Dana stops him. “She’s the only one who knows where it is. Have her take Ben if you’re that worried.”

“Scott, take Ben with you if you need to bring it back.”

Jessica resumed the conversation. “Is there anything else you need in Dallas? I’m sure somebody could go out and find something for you.”

Jamie and Leon consult each other for a moment before shaking their head. “I can’t think of anything. Unless you can give us personell, which I won’t even CONSIDER asking for, there’s nothing you could help us w- god damn I forgot!” Jamie looks at him confused. “The BB!” Jamie facehoofs and nods.

“Show them now.” Leon turns to the side to reveal metal braces connected around what would be his hip, running down his foreleg, connecting to a pivot, and running down his lower leg where it ends in two separate prongs with wheels. Suddenly, Leon jumps up onto his hind legs. A click resounds from the braces as it locks into place, and the wheels fall down, attached to an inner brace. The wheels hit the ground and soundly support Leon’s weight and balance him.

And just like that, Leon's bipedal.

Jessica and Dana stare in shock. Jessica didn’t think he’d ever walk on two legs again. Dana, though, is more skeptical. “That looks like it hurts.” she says.

“Not at all," Leon says, "It soundly distributes weight so you feel no pain, keeps your balance, AND-” Leon then begins to walk around on two hooves, the wheels rolling him soundly along. “It isn’t bulky so it doesn’t get in the way. It’s not even very noticeable. Personally I think it looks cool. Martha’s famous for inventing it and using it so she can hold and fire a gun. We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for this thing.”

Jessica stares in awe as Leon moves around. “Wow. We can pick things up like people again with one of these.”

Dana plops down on the couch. “Can you even hold anything with hooves? I mean, they’re hooves. Pretty flat.”

“Oh, I can hold things just fine,” Jessica says before pausing. “Wait, what about your junk? You can see- well, it’s pretty revealing.”

Jamie bursts out laughing as Leon’s face slowly grows redder. He deactivates the braces and lands down, coughing.

“Yes, well… you see…” Jamie laughs even harder as Leon tries to explain himself. God, I can’t believe I forgot the covers! Leon quickly runs to his car and pulls them out, returning to the group. “Back when they were first made, we didn’t quite care if we were showing ourselves off. Well… mostly because it was a twelve year old girl who invented them, so she felt secure if she was showing herself off. When she made one for me, she gave me a cover. I kinda… forgot. I knew I should have asked her to attach it.” He shows something that looks like pants. He pulls them on and stands up, now not showing off his private area. “Just… forget that last one happened.

Jessica laughs. “Sure thing.” Dana leaves the room, and comes back in.

“Guys, we have a problem,” she says.

Jessica frowns. “Dana, what is it?"

“There’s a haboob coming up from the south.”

“Crap.” Jessica pushes a button on the radio. “Everybody come inside to the main house. There’s a dust storm coming. Scott, Ben, you there?”

A voice comes on the radio. “Yeah, we’re fine. We see the radio. The tower’s a lot bigger than eight feet tall.”

Dana talks over the radio. “That only means more distance. You’re good.”

“Okay, get back over here. You might have a chance at making it back before it hits us.” Jessica says. “And Scott, no repeats of what happened last time.”

She laughs. “You got it.”

Jessica turns to Leon. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to stay in here for a bit. These things are harsh.”

“Finally, ONE thing I have over you.” Leon smiles at his joke before looking down at his braces. “I’m sure the others would like to see this. Do you have any good engineers?”

Jessica thinks. “We have one, yeah. Glen. I’m sure he’d have a field day with this thing.”

“It gets better.” Leon digs into his saddlebag and pulls out a blueprint. “Martha didn’t want me to have this, said it would give anyone we meet a ‘potential militaristic advantage over us.’ That’s just ridiculous. Managed to sneak this out. It’s all your’s.”

“Wow. Thank you so much for this.” Jessica turned to the wall of glass doors. “If you want, you can see the storm before it hits. Have you ever seen a haboob?”

“Never even heard of one 'til just today. What’s it look like?” Leon asks, turning towards the glass doors.

“It’s a wall of dust, a mile high and about ten across. They come in when it’s dry and windy enough, and without anyone here to water anything, they’re getting more common. Once you get in one, you have to stay inside. The dust gets everywhere, in your eyes, in your mouth. They’re not fun.”

“Sounds like it." Leon pauses to think. "You know the animals are getting smarter?” He brings up randomly as small talk to wait before they can do something productive. “It’s downright creepy. I’m sure you’ve gathered it, but they’ve formed tribes, they seek shelter, it’s pretty creepy.”

“The only animals we have here are two fully grown dogs, a puppy, and a kitten. I noticed they were getting smarter, but they don’t do much except follow us around and fight off coyotes.”

A voice came on the radio. Scott. “Jessica? We’re on our way back, but there are these three coyotes following our car. One of them looks hurt. Should I get out and help them?”

Jessica pauses for a moment, thinking. Sure, they were smarter, but doesn’t that also mean they’d be more empathic? Then again, Scott did have a bad experience with a group of them a few months back. And none of them knew anything about what the wild animals were capable of now. “Well, Leon, what do you think she should do?”

Leon glares at the radio before Jamie pokes him in the side.

“Her question?”

“Right.” He thinks about it for a little while before sighing and nodding. “There’s no reason to assume they’ll do anything bad. I’ll keep an eye on them while they get fixed up, then when the storm is over we’ll send them on their way.”

Jessica talks to Scott. “Go for it.”

He sits by the radio. A few minutes later, Scott comes back on. “I patched up the guy’s leg and kicked down the door of a mobile home to let them in there until the storm ends.” We’re not gonna make it back before the storm hits.”

“Try anyways.” The rest of the group is slowly trickling in. Most ponies go to their rooms, but some opt to stay in the living room. The storm moves closer and closer to them. Right as the layer of dust obscures a house a ways behind them, Scott and Ben come in the door, closing it quickly.

“That was close,” she says in between breaths. A haze of red dust blows over the house, and wind whistles around it. “So what do we do now?”

“First off,” Leon says, walking over to the door still using his BB, “You can give that blueprint to your engineer. I need to try to remember the radio frequencies we cover in Dallas for when we set up the comms.”

Jessica nods. “Tell Dana the frequencies when you remember them. She’s in charge of the radios.”

Leon thinks throughout the storm, and eventually it slows down and comes down to an end. Leon approaches Dana. “Can I come with you back to the radio? I have a few ideas on the frequencies but I can’t remember exactly.”

“Sure. Scott, can you come with me up to the radio?” she asks. They get in a SUV and drive up to where she saw it. “This is more than enough to reach Dallas.”

“Thanks.” Leon begins shifting through frequencies. A minute or so later, sound begins to come out, and soon a voice comes through.

“Hello? Hello is someone out there?” A young female voice comes through. Leon grins.

“Martha, it’s me!”

“Leon?! Is Jamie safe?”

“Jamie’s just fine. Hey, we’re in Pheonix.”

“That’s one hell of a good radio, especially given the type.”

“I know. Turns out there’s a ton of people here! Either of you want to say hi to Martha?”

“Sure,” they both say. “Hi! I’m Scott. It’s nice to meet you, Martha.”

“And I’m Dana, the radio nut.”

“Pleasure,” She says dryly. “Now, Leon, I happened to notice earlier today that a certain blueprint was missing. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“Probably a dog, bye!” He quickly shuts it off and turns to them. “Well, maybe we could see later about getting Sheila on. Unlike Martha, she’d be happy to talk to you all.”

“That sounds good,” Scott says. “Until then, you want to cart this radio back home?

It takes a few tries and a stolen pickup truck, but they get the radio and the antenna back to the base and set it up in the backyard.

Leon talks on the radio a little further and then meets Jessica. “Gather anyone who’s interested, you’re about to have first friendly contact with Dallas.”

“Didn’t you talk with Martha earlier?” Jamie asks.

“I said FRIENDLY contact.”

Jessica knocks on doors for a bit, and, soon enough, all eleven members of the colony are standing near the radio sitting on the countertop. They wait as he plugs in some wires and pushes a button.

Soon a voice comes through, though for those present during the initial conversation the voice was clearly different. It was softer and more friendly in its tone.

“Oh, Leon, is that you?!”

“Indeed it is Sheila, and I’ve gathered the entire colony in Pheonix!” A light gasp is audible from the other side.

“Really?!” Leon grunts in affirmation.

“Would you like to talk to them?”

“Sure!” She says happily. Leon turns and gives the signal for anyone who wants to talk to do so.

Jessica steps up. “Hi. I’m Jessica, the unofficial leader. It’s so great to talk to someone outside of Phoenix.”

“And it’s so great to talk to someone from outside Dallas. Oh, Martha told me that Leon mentioned it was good there, but really tell me how is it?!” Her voice grows slightly sad. “It’s kind of hard to believe in good things after what’s going on here…” The perkiness returns to her voice. “I do it nonetheless. Please tell me it’s as amazing as I’ve heard!”

“It’s alright. We have a lot of food. Canned vegetables, dried fruit, and nuts, but food. We’re setting up various projects to improve things, and it’s going well. Might even see if those with a horn or wings can actually use them.” He looked at Scott, and she nodded. “Plus, there’s a baby on the way.”

A loud gasp sounded from the other side. “R-really?” A happy squee came through loud. “Oh that’s so great! It’s… truly amazing. Congratulations to the mother and father! Oh, and about the horns, Leon can teach them about that, can’t you Leon!”

“Uh, sure! Yeah, I can do that.”

“Oh, this is so great! And no one dies over there?”

“No, there hasn’t been any death here.”

“Oh that’s great! I haven’t been here for any pony deaths. I’ve been told that I traveled through time or something. Oh, but my friends have died. That’s sad, it really hurts to see them hurt like that. But I’m glad everything’s good on your side!”

“Hope things get better there for you.” He stepped back, and Scott was the next to go.

“Uh, hey. I’m Scott. I’m the pregnant one Jessica was talking about. And he’s the father.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet! I hope you two are happy. Though, it is funny. Just Jessica’s a girl’s name, and Scott’s a boy’s name… OH! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to be rude!”

“It’s okay, we’re managing well. But having to go through the same conversation with nine other people about that got a bit tiring.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Gender swap.” Leon says to her. She moans in understanding.

“I suppose if I can time travel, who’s to say one can’t change genders? Nonetheless, I’m happy for you two!”

Scott steps down, and Dana goes next. “Hey, I’m Dana. I time traveled, too.”

“Oh. Hello fellow time traveler!” She says in a fake nerdy voice before giggling. “I’m glad you had so many people to help you! I woke up and dogs tried to kill me! My friends came to rescue me! Then my friends helped me find fellow ponies!”

“That sounds scary. I mostly just wandered around. Then they picked me up and gave me a room, and I work on their radios now.”

“Oh, so are you the one who set up this radio! Thank you! It’s so great to have outside contact!”

“You’re very welcome!” She moves away, and Levi steps up.

“Hey! Sheila, was it? I’m Levi.”

“Hello Levi! What’s your role? Or, do you just live there? Not that there’s a problem with that!”

“I mostly help other people with things they have to do and try to fly in my spare time. It’s not much, but it helps the colony.”

“Well that’s still great. I work as the medic. When I first found Leon he was in a bad shape. Blood and cuts everywhere. I got him back to health. So I suppose I do my part.”

“That’s all we really can do.” He steps away from the radio, and nobody else volunteers to speak.

Jessica steps up again. “Well, it was great talking to you. I hope you do well in Dallas.”

“Thank y-” A bang sounds from the other end along with multiple thuds. “What is it Martha?”

“Dogs. A few got in.” The cock of a gun is audible through the radio.

“Well, I suppose this is bye for no-” Multiple barks sound followed by loud gunshots before the radio shuts off.

Jessica blinks. “Well, it was nice talking to her. Are you planning on staying another night?”

“No. I’d absolutely love to, believe me you can’t even understand how much I want to stay this place is like paradise, but as you heard my friends need me. I need to get back to them. I got the word out, set out communication. Oh, and apparently a surprise awaits me back home. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Well, good luck, wherever you go.” The whole colony says their goodbyes to the two ponies, and Jessica helps them load up their car.

“It’s been great having you. I’m so happy to find out about other cities, but so sad to hear about what’s going on.”

“It’s… it’s okay. I’m glad to see that things are better in some places. if Dallas is the worst city out there, then I’m happy.” Leon gets in the car and Jamie follows. “Tell me how building those BBs go, I hope to hear results over the radio.” The car revs up and begins pulling away. With a tear in his eye Jamie waves out the window. Leon follows suit, facing everyone and waving. “Farewell, and feel free to visit just kidding please don’t.” He says as he drives away.

With Pheonix behind him Leon sighs and leans back.

“They were nice,” Jamie says. Leon nods. “Are you and Sheila gonna have a baby like Scott and Jessica?” The car suddenly swerves rapidly and Leon looks with wide eyes at Jamie.

“What? We’re not even in a relationship!” Jamie shrugs,

“I ship you.”

Dear Journal,

We're a few hours away from Dallas, and we broke into a motel to sleep. I hope when the people that own these joints return from the time vortex or whatever that they aren't pissed off about their broken establishments. But we do what we have to I guess.

Jamie's already asleep and I'll be sleeping too soon. I... really miss Phoenix. Everything was so happy there. I have a new goal for Dallas: I want it to become Phoenix. The dogs will kill themselves off sooner or late, and then the rebuilding shall begin. When that happens, oh when that happens. I'll get some of the ponies from Phoenix and bring them down and say, "you can't even tell the difference, can you!"

Hey, a man can dream. With these new ponies and their bright future, I've decided that that's what I am.

Not a pony, not a stallion, not a unicorn. Above all, I'm a man. If humanity has to live on through us, so be it.

And God damn it, humanity will live on.

Leon

Author's Note

Phoenix part two ends. This is an almost word for word copy of the transcript that Razzle Dazzle and I made, with some edits to make it easier to read and the journal added at the end. This was a TON of fun to write, and once more I thank Razzle for his contributions.

Radio contact has been established, so expect to hear more from the Phoenicians every once in awhile. Stay tuned as well, another crossover with them may be in the future...

or maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see won't we? There is the little matter of the strange radio signal in Dallas. Will they have found the source by the time Leon returns?

August 30, 2015

Dear Journal,

Ah, Dallas. Cesspool sweet cesspool. I miss Phoenix, but there's a lot of work do be done here in Dallas, and I'm not about to give up and abandon this place. I'm the hero that this city needs.

Sorry, channeling my inner child. I'm still just so giddy about establishing contact with the guys over there. And hey, should things go too far south here we know we'll have a place to retreat to. Those guys were nice, I'm sure they'd take us in if need be. One day I want to make this city safe enough that they can come and we could give them a nice tour. Yeah... I'd like that.

Anyway, we returned home with a ton of fanfare. Well... for a four person apocalypse anyway. Sheila came running out with a huge smile, popping party poppers and throwing confetti in the air. That made us laugh. Martha was hanging out in the back. Sheila gave me a huge hug and told me how much she missed us, before quickly walking away to greet Jamie personally. I walked over to Martha and gave her a quick hoof bump. She smiled slightly, but quickly made it known that she was pissed about the BB. We argued for a bit, before deciding that it really wasn't important. She was still pissed, and I still maintained that it was the right thing, but we both decided that it wasn't worth debating over. She did, however, state that if they ever attacked us with her BBs, she'd hold me fully responsible. I agreed. They were some of the nicest people I'd ever met, even taking before the Purge into account, so I had no doubt in my mind that would never occur.

Throughout this whole reunion though, something had been bugging me. It's still bugging me now, really. I could have sworn I saw a shadowy figure moving into the radio tower when I arrived. It didn't look familiar, but I could tell it was bipedal by the way it shifted. It could have easily been a trick of the eyes, but it seemed so real. I didn't think of telling the other three, as it most likely was a false figure. Nonetheless, it lingered in my mind for quite some time, resurfaced by this telling.

Y'know, on the way back home Jamie was complaining about how bored he was. I was thinking we need to find new methods of entertainment. I noticed there was a library about two blocks down. I wonder if we could get a bunch of grocery carts and move a lot of the books to some nearby houses, and build some bookshelves to put them on, and make our own little library within safe distance. Or maybe there'd be a way to protect the library. Or maybe it's a short enough walk that we can just go there. I don't know. That'll definitely be something on my list. Moral was dangerously low when we left. It's become higher than in recent memory due to the discover of the colony in Phoenix, but that'll only last for so long. That's something to definitely watch out for.

Anyway... not much left to say. We settled back in and I started writing this soon after. I guess I'll... wait, Sheila's here. I'll be right back.

Okay I'm back. We're on the way to the radio tower, where apparently they are housing another survivor. I mentioned the shadowy figure I saw on my way back, and they confirmed that unless I was delusional, that was him that I saw. I haven't met him yet, I'm writing this as I walk. Now they've warned me that he's a bit different, but aren't we all these days? I said that, and Sheila kinda looked down at the ground. I don't really get it, but I decided not to pursue.

Okay, so it's been a minute or so, and I'm about to meet this new guy for the first time. He's right behind this door. I'll record this with me so that I can get accurate first impressions. Here we go.

[/hr]

Dear Journal,

Hey, this is Sheila! So... Leon wanted to give this journal their first impressions upon meeting the new guy, so here you go:

Leon shook in place for a few moments before fainting, and Jamie ran behind me in fear. I can't really blame them. The guy is basically a giant dog. Like... uh... what's the word? Martha tells me it's anthropomorphic. We didn't have very great reactions when we first met him either. I screamed and Martha held a gun up to him. When he pleaded for his life, we knew he was different. After intense interrogation, we determined that he was an ex-human and was at the very least peaceful. For awhile we were afraid he was a mutant dog or something. Good thing that he wasn't!

Martha said he's gonna keep an eye on him, and I think Leon's out for the night. Uh... I'm not as good with words than the others, so nothing else much to say. Bye!

– Sheila

Author's Note

Heyo! I'm back! If you're wondering why I was gone for so long, read my blog posts.

August 31, 2015

Dear Journal,

So, yeah. A dog. An anthropomorphic dog. I don't even know what to say. Even after getting over my initial shock, I'm still too stunned to say anything. Well, at least he isn't hostile. I don't think so anyway. We sat down and had a full on interrogation and attempted to learn everything we could about him. Some of the stuff he said... it's kind of concerning. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

When I came to (I'm still embarrassed about passing out) Jamie had already calmed himself down. I eventually sat down and began talking to him. Yes, it was a he. His name is George, which ironically was the same name as one of my childhood dogs. He didn't appreciate that little tidbit. He said he was a human, just like us. When asked how long he's been around like that, he said, "Same as you I imagine. About 3 months, though I lost track." So he's been around all this time. He's not a time jumper like Sheila. He filled us in a little on his life before the Purge. He worked as a supplier for a jewelry store that had multiple shops around town. Apparently this ended up being very useful to him, as his new body eats gems. He was about 30 when the Purge occurred. I can't remember much beyond that. It wasn't really a focal point in our conversation. What follows is what concerns me.

After around a month, during his travels around Texas — he didn't start in Dallas, by the way, but I can't remember where he started — he ran across another man. His name was Thomas, and he was like George. Alike in species, I mean. They stuck together through kinship, and travelled around. Eventually, a few weeks ago, they made it to Dallas. Here they ran into the dogs, whom they could communicate with. The dogs told them about us; ponies who were living in the city, and were one of the best sources of food around. I guess we're some kind of delicacy to them. How they know this concerns me.

Thomas and George got into a disagreement. George believed they should meet with us and befriend us. Maybe we could help them, create civilization with them. Something like that, anyway. Thomas, however, was lulled in by the dogs' promises of delicious meat. Neither of them knew if they were even capable of eating meat, but Thomas was desperate. George fled when it was clear that Thomas had made up his mind. Somehow Thomas worked his way into a seat of power within the dogs and he unified a lot of the tribes in their hunt for us. He made George an enemy of the collective, and George fled to find us.

We mentioned some of the tribes who had betrayed us, and George mentioned that he knew Thomas had a hand in some of them. Or... paw as it were. Sheila was slowly losing her grasp as Thomas's silver tongue worked his way through the groups. George told us all of this, and in a display of generosity we allowed him to join our group. Though to be fair, we would have done that regardless. As soon as the story was over Martha ran off to do who knows what. Probably check defenses or the like. Sheila seemed scared, and hung out near me. Jamie did the same. I had to be strong. I welcomed him in, but warned him that I'd be keeping a close eye on him. After some murmuring about "discrimination" he accepted, and said he understood.

With this new guy Thomas in the picture, everything's ramped up. On the one hand, they are more organized, intelligent, and sophisticated than ever before now. On the other, they will become dependent. Eliminate Thomas, eliminate the dogs. We're not joking anymore. I've confirmed that Martha's double checking the defense. Jamie ran off to take stock on the weapons. Sheila's talking to the friendly dogs. I just put George in his new quarters. This is it, now we're truly at war. There's an enemy who must fall. If we do this, we can save Dallas. We can stop the chaos. It can be over...

we'll create a brave new world.

Author's Note

*eyes burst open*

W-where am I?

*looks around*

Is this... FiMFiction? What?

*smiles*

It's been awhile.

So yeah, I'm back. Don't expect regular updates, as I'm bogged down with school, friends, and catching up. I'm still on part two of the second "Ponies After People" book. That's how bad this is.

Anyway, I've made a decision... this story is coming to a close. Still expect AT LEAST ten more chapters, but we'll be seeing the endgame unfolding pretty soon. This story is starting to drag, and I'm worried. I have people waiting on me, and my idea meter is running low. So this is it. Now don't get me wrong, I WILL continue the series. This won't be the only one. Or rather, I will write another Ponies After People story. Whether or not it's a sequel depends on whether or not the crew survives. All shall be revealed in time. Blood will be spilled.

Until then, this is Baileyjrob... and it feels good to be back.

September 5, 2015

Dear Journal,

George is still getting adjusted to being around magical talking horses. I don't quite blame him, but at least he is still a biped. It's a lot easier to recognize the benefits of an equine body when you don't have to drag yourself around everywhere you go. Those first few weeks were tough, and I didn't even have the worst of it. I had the good sense to research how horses move right off the bat, assisting myself in future endeavors and rapidly accelerating my learning curve. I've heard stories from Jamie (Martha had the same sense too) about him and his mom and their troubles attempting to adapt to their new bodies in the first few weeks. I'll tell you I'm glad I had the sense I did, otherwise learning magic might have been a lot harder than it was.

Speaking of which, I'm still learning how my magic works. Martha can help toss around hypotheses, but in the end the lack of being a unicorn makes it difficult for her to contribute. My levitation has been steadily improving, as I can now levitate three objects without deep focus, but I'd still like to do more. I find it hard to believe that levitation is the full capacity of this horn. What could I possibly be capable of? Maybe I could unlock telepathy, or teleportation, or more detailed manipulation, or maybe even offensive capabilities. I'm working on trying to manipulate the flow and concentration of my magic as it leaves my horn to mostly negative results. I am making some progress, but no developments large enough to really go on about. That's for a different journal.

George, while still struggling, is integrating well. He's begun to pick up his chores and is preforming them as well as can be expected. Apparently he's pretty good with a hammer in ways other than being the only one able to hold one. Him and Martha sometimes discuss possible future building projects, or modifications to current ones. He frequently will gain a sort of surprised look during their conversations. I suspect that's him realizing he's actually found an intellectual equal in a twelve year old. That'll happen. Everyone in our group's accepted it by now, but when I first met her I found myself constantly surprised by just how smart she was. Whenever she's not building, doing chores, or doing any basic survival related thing, she's reading up. Sometimes it's relevant like manuals, other times it seems to be solely for knowledge's sake. I often join in on reading, but she does it more than I do. One time George saw us reading and mentioned something to the effect of "father-son reading time." I couldn't tell which of us wanted to disprove that more, but we were both pretty excited to give that a try. Sometimes even Sheila stops by whenever we both take a break, though she doesn't read stuff on quite the intellectual level we do. One time all four of us gathered around to read for one reason or another, and George just kind of looked between us and walked away. Must be awkward for the guy, but we're sure he'll fit right in.

Jamie often can be found drawing somewhere around home base. He's often very protective about what he draws, but I've snuck a peek at some of them. Some are fairly concerning, like dogs attacking someone, but most are very nice. That I've seen anyway. Sometimes he draws with George, who always seems confused as to how Jamie can draw so well (all things considered.) It really is quite astounding. Jamie seems to be doing his best to include George, and that seems to be really helping George fit in.

We went back to Base Alpha today. That's the old grocery store I used to live in with Jamie. Apparently George and Martha had some sort of idea for a project that required shopping carts, and lots of them. Luckily we ran into very minimal resistance on the way there and back. As we were leaving, I noticed something. The graves of Max and Barbara had been defiled: they had been dug up and the bodies removed. All that remained was some blood stained dirt around the holes. Jamie and I both stopped and payed our respects. Martha kind of nodded to Max's grave, then moved on. Sheila simply seemed confused and slightly perturbed. George, however, seemed to get the message. He simply gave us a pat on the shoulder (back? foreleg? thigh?) and moved on.

To think of how far we've come since that day. How many months ago was that? It feels like a lifetime ago. Before the war, before all this time travel nonsense, before Phoenix, and before... before Dallas, really. Before any of that, there was still one person out to kill another. Max's sacrifice saved me. It... it could have easily been the other way around. Max could be standing here right now in front of my grave, worried about not only his own survival, but the fate of everyone. Bastrop... that was our big concern back then. Bastrop feels like an old dream now. One day I'll probably visit anyway. When this is all over. I'll create a Haven for everyone.

Jamie looked torn next to me as he looked down on his mother's grave. He knew what she'd done, yet she was still his mother. He very clearly couldn't tell how to feel. Looks of anger, remorse, and confusion flashed on his face one after another. Eventually, for the first time in a long time, he broke down and cried. I was just happy that this time, I could be there to comfort him rather than be the outlet of his anger.

We eventually made it back to the Base Prime. On the way we'd stopped by a hardware store and picked up some nails, wood, sheets of metal, joints, and a bunch of other stuff that's purpose right now I couldn't make out. George and Martha seemed pretty excited though, and they both disappeared into the workshop. They haven't come out since, not even for dinner. I wonder what they could possibly be doing in there.

Well, my head's starting to hurt a bit. I may be getting better at levitation, but the finesse required for writing coupled with the extended period of time causes some wear. I'm clocking out now. To a brighter future, and a Haven for all!

– Leon.

June 8, 2015

Author's Note

I was originally gonna post all the days Starscribe skipped as one, but decided not to. If you want me to, just tell me in the comments. I might.

Otherwise, yeah, it's short. But important, so I kept it.

June 8, 2015

Dear Journal,

Max is in a lot of pain. He's constantly groaning. I've even caught him crying once, though he claims that I was just seeing things. I wouldn't blame him were he crying.

All today I've done everything in my power to keep him alive. I've forgotten to eat, use the restroom, and otherwise take care of myself. I God damn swear that Max is gonna live. If he doesn't live... if he doesn't live... I'll... I'll be... Excuse me for a moment...

It's currently 1:25 AM. Technically, it's June 9th. I've just been too busy trying to take care of Max. I've given him the futon, I'm sleeping on the floor. Well, I WILL sleep on the floor.

He's stabilizing a bit more. By stabilizing, I mean I feel comfortable leaving him for a half hour and not worrying that he'll be deceased when I come back. His wounds were a lot worse than I thought. Tommorow — or later today I suppose — I'm going to go look for more medicinal supplies. We're running low. I hear him moan, or cry... I wish I could give him painkillers. I'm worried that they'll clash with our new pony biology though. I don't want him to take drugs he shouldn't.

God damnit, I'm not a doctor! Or, a vet! I don't know what to do!

At least he's getting better, to some degree.

-Leon

"If you're out there, we NEED supplies! Please, help us. We have a hurt man, he requires medical attention immediately. Please... someone... help us."

June 17, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today has been a roller coaster... for all of us. Uh... um... basics first, I guess.

I found a radio guide. I've been studying up on how radios work. I don't get much yet, but I do know about scanners now. If this radio I found has a scanner feature in it, then I'll be set for business!

If only I knew how to figure that out.

But that's not the real news. Not really anyway. Jamie... he hit stage 2 today. For any readers (if anyone ever reads this) who don't know what that means, I've been pretty vague about that. It's based on the Khubler Ross model of grief. First comes Denial. This could also mean a numbness to emotions. Then comes anger, followed by bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Now you know what I mean.

I woke up and went to grab some food for myself and he pounced on me, hitting me repeatedly and calling me a monster. Thankfully he's just a child so they were more annoying than painful. Until he hit me in the eye.

I regret to say that I snapped for a moment and threw him into a shelf when that happened. So hard that the shelf toppled over. We were on aisle 9 when that happened. I had forgotten to move Barbara's knife.

It had slid under the shelf after the fight. When the shelf toppled over, it was revealed. Jamie found it, took it in his mouth, and tried to cut me with it. By now I had regained control of my emotions and I levitated it out of his mouth. He then spouted some things at me that were... well... very hurtful.

I'm not one to be emotionally weak. I was kinda famous as a child for being able to take any insult and never care, whether it was about my appearance or skill. But the things he said... they cut deeper than a knife ever could.

"You should burn in hell for what you did!"

"All she wanted was to help a child! You killed her for it!"

"I used to wonder why she attacked you! Now I know! You're a monster!"

Monster...

monster...

monster.

I know why his insults hurt now more than any other insult has hurt before. He may have been right.

Jamie ran away after that incident. I assume he's somewhere around here. I just don't know. How did everything fall apart so quickly?

Am I a monster?

I'm not a monster, am I?

No... I'm good. I help people. I don't hurt people.

"I know why Max killed himself! It was because of you!"

I didn't kill you Max... right? I didn't kill you.

Excuse me.

Author's Note

My shorter chapter. It's quite short, but so important I couldn't leave it out. I also don't want multiple days in one chapter. That just looks ugly.

July 1, 2015

Dear Journal,

It's July 1, whoop de do. A new month. Jamie seems pretty excited about it though. He asked if we'll be celebrating July 4th, but I told him I don't have any fireworks or the like. I guess we can take one of those cakes from the bakery part of the store? It'll be very stale, but better than nothing. Get little candles. I hope turning on a lighter won't hurt me through my magic. Sounds bullshit, but honestly anything can happen.

The search for the other survivor is lagging behind. I told her to meet me at the grocery store, but she never came. It's been multiple days now, but she still hasn't made an appearance.

I'm currently out trying to find some stuff to make the grocery store more comfortable. Now that I have magic, I can be able to do more things. I'm going to try to... I heard something.

Huh... it worked.

So this is your journal, huh? Yeah, that car that "suddenly" fell down the road? I'm sure you deduced that the parking brakes failed, but in reality I took them out. Perfect timing, really. You were so scared that you left your journal behind. I've read through it, and I must say I'm conflicted.

I've been watching you, Leon. Watching you for a long time. I've noticed a disturbing pattern. Everyone around you dies. Jamie so far seems to have lasted the longest without injury, but we'll see how long that lasts. Something's strange about you, and I don't like it.

Yes, I was the person on the radio. More will be explained in due time. I have to wonder if you're writing everything down that actually happens. Are you as much of a paladin of righteousness as you make yourself sound? Are you really the good guy? Or are you filtering this journal to take out any screw ups you make?

We will meet eventually, I'm sure. I'll always be watching.

– Martha

I don't know who this Martha chick is, but I don't like the sound of her. She returned my journal by dropping it off in front of the store, making sure to leave a note to me in it.

I'll make a broadcast to her tonight. Oh, I've still been doing the speaker thing, just now that I'm not doing voice-to-text, it's harder to put down on paper.

I'll be rereading that note. Maybe there's a clue somewhere.

– Leon.

Author's Note

The new mare is given a name: Martha! I believe this is my shortest chapter yet. Don't worry, the next will be longer.

July 10, 2015

Dear Journal,

Martha and I debated over living spaces for awhile. Each of us had legitimate arguments. the grocery store had more food supplies and space, but the radio tower had a farm growing near it and radio equipment. We considered living separately, but decided we didn't want to be separated. No matter how callous she seems, Martha is just as needy for interaction as any of us. Top that with the fact that so many deaths have occurred so far, and we were loathe to be separate.

In the end we decided to live in some nearby houses and constantly restock from the grocery store. It's an hour walk, there and back. Really annoying, but ultimately something that must be done. We only have to do it once a week or so. If only we knew how to drive a car, than that would be great. We would have scanners running on the radio tower and put a transmitter of sorts into our house, so if noise ever came through we'd hear it. It's an imperfect system, but we'll get more worked out.

Jamie seemed very happy at getting fresh veggies. He said he used to not even like vegetables. No one could tell if that was due to a distinct lack of them for over a month, or the new equine anatomy. We settled on a mix of both. Jamie seems to want to get along with Martha, but her cold attitude makes it hard. I'll work with him. Not much to say today.

–Leon.

Author's Note

I'm sorry for the disappointing chapter. It's late and I'm exhausted. I should really write my chapters in advance. Anyway, my chapters have been crap quality lately, so I'll make it up to you! I promise!

...

Pinkie Promise.

July 29, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was certainly strange. Some people almost died, a new person were introduced, lots of killing. Pretty shitty day overall, really. I suppose we're still breathing, so that's a plus. I should mention that I'm Martha. First time writing in here aside from the threat to Leon. I considered erasing it, but Leon told me to leave it in. In retrospect, I agree with him. If Leon wants this to be a history book, than that's important. Or, wanted I suppose. We still don't know that he's alive.

The day started out normally, or just about as normally as you could expect from this situation. Crap food most of which had gone bad for breakfast. Thank the stars we seem to have stronger stomachs now. Doesn't make it any more enjoyable.

We finished that up and began to make our way back to the radio tower, before switching to head to the store to see if Leon survived. We spent most of the day avoiding the roaming dogs before finally making it back. The place was swarming with dogs, but there was a large series of bloodied trails leading away from the store. So either Leon survived but was wounded, or the dogs dragged away his bloodied body. Or worse, both.

We traveled towards the radio tower, assuming Leon would meet us there if he survived. However, we were stopped by a pack of dogs as the night fell. The growled at us and advanced at us, when suddenly another pack of dogs pounced on them. They started fighting each other, ripping each other apart.

What crazy group have I joined?

Jamie and I took the chance to flee, but as we were running I spotted what seemed to be another person from where the friendly dogs came from. I didn't get much time to look, as some more dogs attacked us. I took out three. Yep, one hell of a strange day.

I may be underage, but I need a beer.

August 5, 2015

Dear Journal,

Yep, something's definitely off about Sheila. She's far too amazed by everything, and keeps saying she's amazed we figured all this out in so little time. She said she's only had her body for about a week, so how could we know all this stuff?

I don't understand. Calling this body "new" is debatable, but I suppose I could understand her saying that. However, there is no denying that the meaning of "about a week" isn't up for debate. Could she have been human up until this time? It's not like she traveled through time.

One possibility I've entertained, but will not pursue until a later date is that somehow she disappeared with most other people on Earth, and somehow returned with no memory of what lays beyond (or doesn't lay beyond.) If that's the case, why her, and how did she get back? You can see why I haven't accepted this as a legitimate reason. One to keep in mind I suppose, as in reality I have no better reasoning.

I haven't yet had the chance to check in with Jamie, but I think I'll do that in the next couple of days. By week's end without a doubt. Speaking of Jamie though, I don't think that kid understands that I just want to be left alone most of the time. He keeps asking me if I want to do something, or if I want to take a break. I always tell him no: why would I? That kid needs to back off. Though admittedly, it is kind of nice to be important to someone.

Leon and I talked about it while he was conscious (a while ago) and we both decided we don't care why this happens. We'd like to know why, but we aren't gonna go seeking answers. The most important thing is survival. Leon is very lucky that there's someone still sweet in this wasteland to help him. Does she think we'll help her in return, or is there still a vain soul who believes that kindness prevails? Honestly... I think it's the latter.

I envy her.

– Martha.

Author's Note

I have decided to look at my short chapters in a different light. In my story "Before Ponies There Was Man" it's unacceptable. However, here with daily updates it's different. I've decided to see it as quick chapters that come out frequently that are like bite-sized, so if you're in the mood for a minute or two of reading, you can pop on by my story. I've decided that's a good and legitimate way to look at my story.

August 8, 2015

Dear Journal,

Martha came to me earlier today about something. She filled me in on all the details that Jamie forgot to mention about what happened while I was separated and down. There wasn't much to add, but there were some things. One thing I did notice was when she got to the part where they went into the restaurant, she got a kind of face and hesitated. You know that face people get when they're debating with themselves over something? That's basically what she got. She chose to omit said "thing" which I know for reasons I'll explain later. However I did take note of that episode, and remembered it as she spoke. When it came to the end of her story, I pressed her about that. When I did, she spoke in another way. You know when you really want to tell someone something, but at the same time you don't? That weird paradoxical feeling that somehow makes perfect sense while you have it? That's what she showed off.

I further pressed into it, and eventually she gave in, to her obvious relief. The following is the conversation as I remember it.

Martha: Fine, fine, I'll tell you. When we killed the first two dogs, something... strange happened.

Leon: I gathered that from how you were acting. I also gathered it had something to do with Jamie.

Martha: ... yeah.

Leon: Is there something you want to tell me? Something you... maybe need to tell me?

Martha: God just shut up, I'll tell you.

Martha: ...

Leon: Martha...

Martha: I told you that Jamie killed a dog with a frying pan, right?

Leon: Yes, I commented then on how I was so impressed that a young child could crack a dog's skull so quickly with nothing more than a frying pan... then you reacted strangely.

Martha: Yes, well that's because Jamie didn't quite kill it so quickly. Or at least not the way you think he did.

Leon: Well what did happen?

Martha: Stop interrupting.

Leon: There were over ten seconds of silence. I didn't interrupt.

Martha: He smashed its head repeatedly into the ground.

Leon: I imagined that's what likely happened. That's what's needed to crack a skull when factoring in the strength of a-

Martha: Leon, shut up! It's not like that!

Leon: *nervously shifts* What do you mean?

Martha: *sighs* It was overkill. I imagine it was dead by smash four or five, but he must have done it ten times, give or take.

Leon: Oh...

Martha: That's not all. He was panting heavily when he stopped and he looked very angry.

Leon: *surprised* You don't think he-?

Martha: Bears hatred over the death of his mother? That's a likely diagnosis.

Leon: I'm talking about the other diagnosis...

Martha: I don't want to think about that one... *angrily topples lamp* God damn it, why is this so hard!?

Leon: I think because you know what happens if it's that other diagnosis.

Martha: ...

Leon: *softly* We have to put him down.

Martha: *growls* Like an animal.

Leon: We are animals, Martha.

Martha: *angry* We're humans!

Leon: Humans are animals too... now more so than ever.

August 26, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today was our first day of travel. Everything went... well, nothing went wrong, I'll give today that. At the same time however, nothing went right! We didn't find anyone. That could be due to the method we're using: drive around a town honking a lot before moving on. It doesn't have a huge success rate as you can well imagine.

We've lost contact with the girls. We had originally put a radio in the car, but it's out of range now. We determined that wherever it ran out of range was the point of no return. We put the radio in so we could radio if we got in a crash, or something was wrong with the car, or so that they could radio in if something went wrong. However, by the time we made it out of range there would be no help. If we got in a crash they wouldn't be able to make it in time. If something went wrong with them, the same problem. Past that point, we'd be on our own.

Jamie was really excited when we left. He couldn't wait to meet more people. However, as time went on, he's become increasingly frustrated. I won't lie, I have too. We've spent so much time on the road, and nothing. Luckily most of the towns we came across were small. With one or two exceptions, they were pretty easy to quickly check. Now it's still FAR from a thorough check, but it's what we could do. We're gonna dedicate a good portion of tomorrow to checking Phoenix, because that'll take awhile.

Oh, right, I forgot to mention. We're like a town away from Phoenix. We left very early in the morning, and stopped late at night. I'm going to be really tired tomorrow, but whatever. We needed all the time we could get.

We're currently crashing in a house that had left its door... unlocked. Look, the door was on the floor when I got there! It doesn't matter, we're crashing here. Heh, crashing. Because cars.

Hard to write, nothing real substantial happened. I'm also really tired. I feel like Phoenix is our last hope. If we don't find anyone there... well... I don't know what to think.

Anyway, I'm gonna hit the hay. Heh, hay. Because horses... yeah I'm really tired. 'Night!

– Leon

P.S. Driving for a long time with no radio to listen to does a number on the psyche. I might pick up a CD or something before I go.

Author's Note

Sorry for the short chapter, but the next one will more than make up for it.