Fallout: Equestria - Wild Card

by Alicorn Airport

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Scootaloo, Adventure, Crossover, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character
Length: 5991

War hasn't changed. Maybe it never will. But every game forgets the rules when wild cards come in.

The war came. It consumed. It destroyed.

Life was preserved inside Stables and refuges.

Small seeds of life have burst forth in the Wasteland; rising through the ruins. Fighting the results of war. Fighting to survive. To live one more day. To be free.

Every once in a while, new seeds drift to the Wasteland from the safety of Stables.

Every game changes when wild cards come in.

Published 2015-06-05 22:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-01 20:30:47 UTC

In A Hole In The Ground...

In A Hole In The Ground...

CHAPTER ONE: IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND...

Not all those who wander are lost...

A white train sped through a mountain track. There's something printed on the side of the cars, a single word (or is it two?) in unforgettable calligraphy: "Sparkle-Cola". Everything was calm. Everypony was happy. There were no worries. This was the old world. Before the war.

A bomb, coloured in black, dropped from the sky with a whistle.

A light, white-hot, exploded from the bomb.

Radioactivity spread through the previously peaceful panorama like wildfire.

Balefire had been unleashed upon the land.

Text appeared on the screen, white against a grey background: "Where will you be when the zebras attack?" The text disappeared, giving way to a cartoon of a grinning, generic tan-coloured mare with a Stable jumpsuit on. "Stable-Tec" read the logo, composed of a Stable door with three lines crossing it horizontally.

The commercial went on and on about the advantages of buying a Stable ticket for yourself and your loved ones. I don't even remember when I saw it, probably in school. But it was all we had left to remind us of the pre-war world, and it was damaged; like someone had glued on a video to the end. It wasn't really a video, it was more of a sound clip; four simple words that never really made any sense:

"War. War never changes."

* * *

Yay. Waking up to the morning light. Feeling the yellow warmth hit my face. Being reminded it's actually the artificial sunlight spell flooding in through my window from the Atrium. It was beautiful.

I slowly unwrapped my prone form from my sheets and stared at the clock on my left nightstand, blowing my messed-up mane out of my eyes. 7 AM exactly. I groaned. I really, really hate mornings: they are the bloody offspring of everything slightly annoying in the world. But I had to wake up, the gambling tables don't run themselves. It would be creepy if they did. Though if they did I'd be able to play more often... Nope, still creepy.

I finally found, very deep in my soul, the willpower to get up. My body slowly got me to my hooves after escaping the really comfortable death-trap of my tangled sheets and leaving the bed. I walked to the corner of my carpeted bedroom to reach the wardrobe, stumbling and half blind from lingering sleepiness. Not conscious of my movements, I stumbled until my telekinesis spell found its grip on the handle and swung the door open. Inside, I found the garments I was looking for. Garments. I like that word; it makes me sound like a knight. I smiled.

The frilly dress shirt with its matching waistcoat and red aviator's jacket with a yellow 7 on the back fit a bit tight and the sleeves were annoying to squeeze my PipBuck through, but they were my favourite clothes.

Slipping on my leather saddlebags, I started towards my apartment's main door.

The grey metal door slid open as I approached, some unseen mechanism rising the whole slab with a whir-y sound until it disappeared into the ceiling. My apartment's main room was not as luxurious as the Head Dealer's, but it was a step up from the lower apartments. I hadn't chosen the fancy décor, but I didn't exactly complain, either. When luck smiled on you, you grabbed what you could before it frowned again.

I emerged onto the main hallway for the upper apartments; I navigated the corridors as if on autopilot. Passing something like five doors and after a lot of turns, the double-size door marked "Main Atrium" finally came into my field of vision. The door opened. Down the stairs I went, onto the Atrium and the common area. Grey steel corridors all the way. Yay.

I passed by the school entrance; glancing inside through the window, I saw the children placing their bets over who would win the Tournament and become a Dealer. I cantered on, finally arriving at the welcoming sight of the Stable Diner. Its sign, red instead of yellow, was markedly different from all the others in the Atrium. I could describe the details, or I could say: Food!

Entering the café, walking to the booth in the left corner, sitting down and waving Cinnamon Roll over to my table; all these things were as natural as breathing. Staying awake wasn't. As soon as I sat down, my head fell on the table, trying to get back to sleep. Let me sleep...

"Good morning!" she said cheerily. Cinnamon was the waitress, and only staff, of the Diner, Stable 7's greatest (and only) food-serving establishment.

I replied with something resembling a gurgling grunt. Or maybe a growl.

She set down my usual coffee and chocolate biscuits on the chromed table (a healthy start to the day!). I barely noticed the full ten seconds that elapsed before there was nothing on the table but an empty plate and cup. Deliciousness filled me. The cream-coloured mare smiled and took the dirty dishes away.

A few minutes later she came back with that ever-present hint of a smile on her face.

"Ten chips, please." she said.

I searched through my Pip-Buck's inventory spell and placed a single yellow chip, worth ten, on the table. I stood up and walked through the red-and-white chequered floors and into the metal, headed for the door that lead towards Admin. I almost stumbled on my half-asleep legs. My brain hates me...

"Bye!" I shouted absentmindedly towards Cinnamon's general direction.

"Have a nice day!"

After trotting up metal stairs for about three floors (why anypony with sense put the offices so isolated up there, I'll never know), I finally reached the Dealers' Hall. At the end of the red, black, and white marble room there was the automated gate to the Meeting Room. The gate was far wider and more than twice as thick as the other doors in the Stable. The little red square-thing on the wall glowed and beeped, asking for ID; I raised my left foreleg to press my PipBuck against the sensor. The gate opened, almost unnervingly quiet for something so large. I stepped into the room.

"Good to see you, Dealer Royal Flush." came a voice from my left.

"Why do you stand on protocol so much? It's annoying. You know, 'Hello, Royal!' could've been fine," I said. I didn't know why that made me mad, but it did.

"It's Tournament week," he simply stated.

I turned towards the source of those words: Blind Luck. The quiet stallion whom I hadn't noticed when I cantered in chuckled at the irony of his hello. His milky eyes had a glint of happiness in them; he was enjoying this. Yay, protocol. The Head Dealer was always exactly on time and often found himself waiting for everypony else.

Subconsciously, I eyed the purple blazer that marked him as Head Dealer of Stable 7. He seemed calm and collected on the surface, but a little nervous underneath. The wild sugary-green locks of his mane only added to the disorganised appearance of everything above his neck. Below his neck, though, was the immaculate image of prim and proper; his Dealer shirt, waistcoat, and bow tie were flawless, his coat shone, his blazer was extremely well-cared for. Immaculate! I am a knight today. I giggled. Nope, no one heard that. Blind only raised one eyebrow.

The Meeting Room had always been amazing to me, even after I got used to seeing it almost every day. It was a contrast to the rest of the Stable; instead of the pristine metal walls and floor and automatic sliding doors that were in the rest of it, the Room had carpeted floors and mahogany sliding doors. Oh, it also had walls that weren't see-through like the ones of the Apartment hallways.

I took a seat on one of the chairs beside the round table of the meeting room. As I lounged on it, somepony else walked in, this time a mare. Fortune was among youngest ponies (including me) to ever make it to Dealer.

So, it was finally all the Dealers come together to plan the most important event of the half-decade: The Tournament. I waited for the torture of the long meeting to start.

"As you both know," began Blind Luck, "The Tournament is when it is decided if we remain Dealers for much longer and—"

"Why-y?" I cut him out by wailing.

"Why what?" His voice was genuinely confused as he looked at me, puzzled. Aww, he should know better after knowing me for ten years. I smiled mischievously.

"Why do you do this; the speech, the protocol, the presentation? All of this." I asked. "We already *know*." So, you know, no boring speech. Please? I beg.

"I like orderliness." He looked a bit offended as he said this.

"Okay." Sigh... " Go on." I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a long meeting.

Blind went on and on about how we needed to set up the event and choose each a temporary Dealer to deal and oversee the games. The rules were simple: anyone could join the Tournament, there were as many rounds as the number of participants would allow, the final three became Dealers, the winner became Head Dealer. They would oversee the Stable for the next five years and deal all games, bets, and gambles. How it was how it always had been. How it always would be. Basic. Kindergarten classes. Boooring. But, as Blind liked to remind us, it was protocol.

Fortune actually listened intently; I was surprised she actually sat through it without a single yawn or roll of her eyes. Maybe she wasn't a pony. She didn't talk much anyways.

After the speech-of-a-thousand-years came the other long and boring part of being a Dealer: paperwork. The document appointing the temporary dealers and authorising the set up of The Tournament in the main game floor was on the table, staring me down and threatening to drown me in more paperwork. A little voice inside me cried.

I wrote the name of my appointed temporary dealer: Felt Dice, and proceeded to stamp the seal of my cutie mark, the image of my four interlocking cards printed in an ink seal adorning the paper next to Fortune's roulette and Blind Luck's pair of dice.

Blind picked it up and folded it with his magic. He dropped it in the chute that went down to Event Planning. Why do we have Event Planning? What do they do? We never plan that many events. I'm going to explore Event Planning someday.

And so, the first 'thing to do today' had been completed. I repeated the tedious going-through-the-stairs, finally arriving at the main Atrium. I headed towards the empty door frame on the far left of the room: the doorway to the Playing Atrium. Yay!

The Playing Atrium was the heart of life in the Stable. Every dispute was solved by a game here, every claim backed by luck. It was where justice was served. But, of course, there was room for fun; that was my section. I ran the tables where ponies went to play. Family outings often followed picnics in the orchard with a game or two. Friends played here. Or me.

I loved this place.

Smells of ink and paper from worn-out cards greeted me walking through the door, as did the sounds and silences of ponies playing to win. Or just playing to play. I stood at the dealer's side of one of the tables, as did many game runners.

Seconds, minutes, hours; they all sped by in a blur. I dealt many games, as always. It's fun to see a foal's first game outside of school, or two best friends challenge each other. The day soon became the night. I had to head back to my apartments so I wouldn't... Um... Lose sleep. Yeah, that. Sounds better than studying for something I'd already won once.

* * *

Later that night I was incredibly nervous. Yeah, nervous... Or excited! Nervouscited! Is that a word? I think I made it one. I had obviously entered the Tournament, and I was liking my chances; yet I was also a bit afraid that my opponents had an ace up their collective sleeves. If they did, I needed an ace of my own.

I was still tempted to walk in tomorrow and just dance with a stupid-but-happy grin on my face.

I swiped my PipBuck next to the sensor that opened the Archive door. Everypony's files and information was freely available inside this room. The door disappeared into the floor and ceiling as the system recognised my PipBuck tag. I entered the cold metal room, full of terminals with blinking lights and beeping sounds. It was less creepy than it sounded. I hoped. I would normally be thinking about how you could keep secrets really easily by just hiding them under your mattress, but tonight I was a mare on a mission: to prepare myself for the Tournament and try to understand my opponents. That sounded so epic in my head. My thoughts are awesome sometimes.

Cue the spy music.

I sat down at one of the desks and accessed the terminal. I selected 'Public Files' and pressed the big 'Enter' button. I entered the section named 'Tournament Participants' and selected the current year. Proceeding to download the info in those folders to my small fetlock computer, I noticed it was downloading something else: a file marked 'From Stable-Tec'. Weird. I liked weird. But I'd probably wait to open it later. After reading the files I came here to download. You've got to be strong, Royal; no poking around until after you do what you have to.

Starting towards my apartment, I was almost ready to fall asleep. But Tournament's tomorrow, Royal; I reminded myself. One part of me was determined, passionate, that part of me was unstoppable. The other part, unfortunately, was listening intently to the beautifully attractive siren call of sleep. I like sleep.

Ultimately, the sort-of-responsible part of me won out: prepare now, sleep after the Tournament. That was a first, Blind must be rubbing off on me.

So... after staring blankly at the wall across my desk for about half an hour, I uploaded the files to my terminal (a bigger screen always helps). The files transferred from my PipBuck's red screen to the machine's green display. I tried to open the first file: the one marked 'Aces Up'. Notice I said tried. The terminal was broken... Or something.

The screen read «Manufacturer Override: If you wish to continue usage of this device, please select "OK" to play the manufacturer message uploaded.». I sighed with exasperation; apparently the universe hated me today, or at least technology did. So I selected 'OK' and pressed the big red 'Enter' button.

Immediately text popped up: 'Admin Login, please enter your password.' I typed in my password. The welcome message filled the screen. After that, the only thing left in the screen was a flashing cursor.

Blink. Flash. Blink. Blink again.

Just as I was about to hit the machine in annoyance, a voice came out of the terminal. Strange, I never knew terminals had audio. The voice was feminine. It belonged to a mare not much older than me.

"Hello, I'll just assume the recorder is on. This is Scootaloo. I don't know you, or who you are, but if you have access to this you're the Head Dealer. Yes, 'Head Dealer', not Overmare or Overstallion." Overmare? What? And I'm not Head Dealer...

"What I'm about to say is for all Head Dealers in the future, not for you. Your instructions are found in a recording in your office. Do you ponies still know what culture shock is? If you're hearing this after the bombs you probably don't. Well, anyways, this stupid war is not over yet... so... we're building Stables and Sweetie Bell and Apple Bloom just wanted them to be shelters, but that's not enough! We need to figure out where we went wrong! What were our society's mistakes!?" It was weird rambling, but 'Scootaloo' just sounded, um, sad, I guess.

"Anyway, what you know as normal isn't exactly how society out here used to work. It is important you, and only you, know this. I'm almost sure the other message was delivered to the Head Dealer's office about a week ago—Anyway, I'm getting off-topic. This Stab—" the recording was cut off.

Why?!? I stared uncomprehendingly at my terminal.

And so, I made a choice. The recording said there was another one at the Head Dealer's office! I was curious. I needed to find Blind Luck. Now. I grinned: adventure!

The grey steel walls of the Stable corridors became a monotonous blur. I galloped as fast as I could. I had no idea why, but a sense of urgency overwhelmed me. The recording seemed—for some reason—important, incredibly so. So I pressed on. Left hoof. Right hoof. Left. Right. I probably woke up one-fourth of the Stable. I didn't care.

Up the stairs. Turn left. Third door on the left. I think. I stopped in front of the door and swiped my PipBuck in front of the access sensor. The door actually opened. Blind actually had me in his authorised guests list!

The apartment was deathly quiet, like a funeral when the casket was lowered. It was also dark. Very dark. I noticed it looked a lot like mine, but strangely more... empty. I guess when you can't see, there isn't really much reason for decorating your apartment to look stunning.

"Who's there?" The voice made me jump as the cold sensation of being startled flared in my stomach.

A silhouette, which I assumed was the stallion I'd come here to find, stood in the bedroom doorway. He pressed a button on the wall with surprising dexterity. The room immediately lit up, blinding me.

Once the white haze cleared from my vision, I saw Blind Luck standing there—calmly—with a look on his face that said: 'Identify yourself or suffer my wrath'. So I identified myself.

"It's Royal. Don't kill me..."

"Royal, what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night. I should not be awake at this hour!" He 'looked' at me with a strange blend of mock offence and very real annoyance.

I gave a small nervous chuckle.

"I kinda might need your help." I spoke before he had a chance to. If I did it quick maybe he wouldn't have time to argue. Please?

He turned to the source of my voice and raised an eyebrow quizzically. Then his face became a sign that advertised: 'Go on...'.

"So... Um, I, was reading up on, you know, my opponents. For Tournament night. And I found a weird recording. It sounded important. It cut off, but it said there was another one in your office." I stumbled through the sentences, trying to convey the weird sense of importance and discovery I felt. Sadly, I think I didn't succeed.

"And this couldn't wait until the morrow, could it?" He deadpanned, staring at me with his moon-white orbs. A sigh escaped his lips. He walked out of the apartment, an unspoken message hanging in the air. Yes! It worked!

So I followed.

The silence on the way to Blind's office was thick, like a wool blanket; and, like a wool blanket it was comfortable. The only interruption being the constant background hum of a million air recycling units and the clip-clop of two ponies' hooves on the metal floor.

Our intended destination's doorway withdrew upwards without so much as a hiss. We entered the office. Blind looked at me expectantly, apparently not wanting to free himself from the silence blanket. Have I mentioned he unnerves me when he stares at me like he sees me? No? Well, he does. It's creepy... Anyway, if he was trying not to talk, he failed.

"May I ask, what is it you're looking for? I've never seen—or heard— any strange recordings in my office." If voices could physically hurt, his could've cut me. I mean, I knew to not mess with Blind when he was sleeping, but he had to understand this was important. At least it sounded important to me. Secret message!

"Calm down, Lucky Charms. When this is over we can both go back to sleep."

"Please don't call me that, Princess." A ghost of a smile haunted his mouth.

We both laughed out loud. Then we lowered the volume.

I punched his shoulder. He gave a mocking 'ow' sound.

For some reason the light feeling died as quickly as it came to life. I looked around the office. I was never very perceptive, but something seemed... wrong. The cherry wood desk, usually welcoming, was a wooden behemoth that somehow seemed intimidating, like a dragon. The various pieces of furniture were somehow just wrong.

"Let's do this quick, I want to get out of here." I urged.

Blind chuckled. "What do you mean? It's just my office."

I glared at him. He started to search.

* * *

6 A.M. Bucking six hours. Hours spent searching for the recording. We'd found nothing. At all.

We were both falling to the sweet beckoning of sleep. Blind turned his head in my direction. I grunted in frustration.

"Remind me to get you off my authorised guests list. And never put you back in." His voice was fake-bitter with the kind of tone that only one as 'furious' and tired as he was probably feeling right now could muster.

I just looked at him, then back to the floor. Last night's excitement had died, along with the determined part of me. I was so sure it would be something so important for it to be kept for a really long time... It was probably sent to the material recycler after it was heard the first time. I sighed.

There was a knock on the door. Blind's ears and my eyes turned towards the entrance. My friend composed himself and talked in his usual, perfectly practised and formal, way:

"Yes, who is it?"

"Poker Face." Came a voice from the other side of the door. It was monotone. I noticed who it belonged to even without the name, an annoying pony with an annoying name. But then again; I think Blind Luck is physically incapable of being anything less than polite to anypony.

"Come in..." We both stared at the door. And waited. (Well, when I said both I meant I... Whatever! I think my meaning is understood.)

I zoned out, and, before I knew it, there was an ochre stallion with a slicked-back mane and tail standing in front of me; the shine of the gel on the black surface of them was almost blinding. He had a very punchable face, I decided. Maybe if I do punch him he'll show some emotion. I imagined punching him. Over and over again. A small dreamy smile painted itself on my face.

"Head Dealer, I mean no disrespect, but I think you and the, ahem, lady Dealer should've taken this to your apartments." What. Excuse me. What?! Then I noticed I wasn't in my Dealer garments, or any clothes for that matter. My brain continued making realisations that should've been stupidly obvious by noticing Blind Luck, proper and formal Head Dealer of Stable 7, was not-at-all dressed and missing his bow tie, which was a sin for him.

Oh. Now I'm really going to punch Poker Face.

"Excuse me?!" I exploded.

"I meant no offence, I only meant such ma—"

"I know exactly what you were implying, and if you don't leave my sight your luck will get really bad." Such threats were a rare thing from me, at least as far as I'm aware, but something about this particular stallion set me off. A lot.

"Actually, I'm just here to inform you that both your presences are required for the opening ceremony of the Tournament." His face remained annoyingly stoic. Not even a single hair had moved from the moment he walked in.

"..." I stared. For a long while. I internally felt stupid. I put on my best 'innocent-yelled-at foal' face.

"Thank you Poker, we will be along shortly." Blind wasn't even fazed, apparently.

Poker Face nodded and left the office wordlessly. He fortunately took his face with him. I hate his face.

Blind finally spoke:

"You have a dirty mind, Princess. And so does he." He snickered and left. I took a moment to be amazed at his navigational skills before I exited too.

I headed towards my apartment to get ready for the Tournament, which I had momentarily forgotten in my frantic search for the recording. I tried to forget about the recording, but something about it nagged at the back of my mind.

Insomniac. I never lost the opportunity to sleep, but the curiosity just wouldn't let me. Or so I thought until I fell asleep ten minutes later.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Was I running late? And why am I worried about being late? Maybe because it's something actually important this time. Yes. That. Thanks, brain. I had woken up on time, and I thought my PipBuck clock was well-calibrated. The magical doorbell rang. I'm coming!

I walked towards the main entrance to the apartment and opened it with a flick of my forehoof.

"I'm coming, Blind! I know you like being early and—"

"Royal Flush, for the security of the Stable you are now under arrest."

Uh, what?

"What?" I asked.

The security pony just stood there, though I could almost feel his unamused stare boring into me from behind his helmet's one-way visor. My ears pressed against my mane. A golden mare stepped out from behind the deadpanning one and slapped an advanced suppressor on my horn. I glimpsed her confused face before I lost consciousness. Fortune.

Fortune?

* * *

The black fog clouding both my mind and my vision slowly started to dissipate. I started noticing a few things. I was forcefully being made to sit in a really uncomfortable cold metal chair by restraints. There was a mare with a golden coat standing in front of me, trying to hide her crying. I'm still confused.

"I... I'm so s-sorry Royal, but I had to." Fortune blubbered. I could shout at her right now, but she looked so broken. So it was hard to get mad. And I liked her. We weren't really friends, but... I dunno... we smiled at each other and worked together? I still don't know; I just liked her.

She wouldn't look at me.

"I didn't want to, but I couldn't put personal feelings before the Stable's safety!" Blurted out the tearful mess that had once been Fortune. I...

"The Stable's safety?" My voice softened. I don't like crying. She seemed to notice my change in tone, calming down a little.

"I never thought you could do something like this, especially with Blind Luck's help. B-but the evidence, it was a-all there..." Her voice trailed off as she stuttered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about... I'm lost right now and you're scaring me a bit." Okay, not scaring, but it was getting me nervous. She was strangely cryptic for her supposedly distraught state. And she was still crying like I would do sometimes. A knot formed in my throat.

Her eyes were overcome by a sudden clarity. But, because the universe and everyone in it apparently hates me today, she didn't say anything; she just walked out of the holding cell.

I looked around the room. This probably means I'm up for trial. I sighed, exasperated. I could almost feel Fortune's embarrassment for breaking down while the recording spells were on (They probably were. I guess.). I sighed.

I wonder how Blind's doing.

I looked at my reflection on the one-way glass. My usually styled short golden mane was dishevelled, my white coat had dirty patches and my ruby eyes were bloodshot. Summary: I looked horrible. Oh, and my clothes were nowhere to be found. That's new.

And so I wait. And wait. And—oh, come on I've been in here for hours!

* * *

Twenty. Hours. Later. Twenty. Bucking. Hours. Later. I was in the Dealer's office, sitting at (and shackled to) the game table. Blind was right beside me. I didn't understand how he wasn't scared; I was terrified. His poker face was on, and the only way he could've look classier would've been with a top hat and monocle.

Anyway; I was sitting at the table for one simple reason: my trial was about to begin. The audio of it was being broadcast to every PipBuck in the Stable, if the microphones everywhere were any indication. As with every dispute in the Stable, Lady Luck would oversee it and pick a winner. It was simple. Trial by Blackjack. Player versus player. Almost no Dealer involvement. You win, you have proved your innocence; you lose, you are sentenced. Sentenced to what, I have no idea, as far as I know this is the first trial in Stable history. For once I was at least a bit glad my mum and Chance weren't here any more to see me. No. Bad Royal. Bad brain. No sad thoughts! You need to be focused! Winning thoughts are better. Yes. Think winning thoughts!

The moment was finally here. With a dreadful chime breaking the eerie air of silence and tranquillity, the trial had begun.

Fortune stepped into the Hall and took the Dealer's seat. She looked uncomfortable. Since she was dealing, I wondered who we'd be playing against. And my question is answered by a slap in the face. Yay. It wasn't physical, but it felt like it. I watched as Poker Face took his seat, lowering himself in what he probably thought looked like class, but was more like a grandma easing into her bath. I strangled a little whimper.

We waited for a small while until a mare took her seat beside him. Her face seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her. Poker Face gave her a small scowl to remind her of her lateness. Wow, he actually showed emotion. A little voice in my brain reminded me that was impossible and convinced me it was a trick of the light.

This is taking too long.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I heard a throat clearing. I looked around and saw the unknown mare staring at Fortune.

"Oh, right, sorry!" I wondered what she had been thinking. "At 12:00 PM Stable Seven Time this court begins the trial of former Dealers Blind Luck and Royal Flush. The accused have pleaded 'not guilty'. Their opponents, on behalf of the ponies of Stable 7, are Poker Face and Aces Up." Oh, so that's why I knew the mare. "...but the Tournament will be postponed until after the trial. The rules are simple: three hooves of Blackjack: whoever wins the majority wins the trial. Wins are individual. If one or more of the former Dealers lose the trial, one or more of their opponents will take their place until the Tournament." What?! I started breathing in and out, tears gathering in the corner of my eyes.

"I asked if the rules were clear, Miss Flush."

"Yes. Very." I grit my teeth.

"Perfect." She said, her tone strained. "Now we begin first hoof. May Lady Luck bring justice."

She dealt the first hoof expertly, all other functions of her brain apparently shut down as she shuffled the cards and gave us—and them— a card each. She shuffled them again before hoofing over our second card.

Before checking my cards I looked up to see Poker Face's, well, face. Yup, I still hated it. He probably had been carved from stone by crying slaves. Really uncreative crying slaves. Aces Up was looking at her cards, not showing any emotion until a small sliver of a smile emerged on her face before being eliminated. I didn't like that.

I looked at my cards, lifting them up in the golden aura of my magic. One Celestia and a Luna. Twenty. It was good, but from her barely contained smile, Aces' was probably better. I glanced at Blind. He was feeling his cards in his magic, telling them apart with a refined discerning spell. I was about to do something really stupid. My common sense and Dealer training fought against my stupidity.

My stupidity does fantastic take-downs.

I glanced quickly at my cards and held my breath. I scraped them face down against the table. 'Hit me'. Fortune raised an eyebrow. She placed a card face down in front of me. I nervously turned it over to look at it.

An ace. Waves of relief washed over me. I almost sighed. Fortune glanced around the table, then nodded. Aces Up laid down her cards. Nineteen. Poker Face showed his cards. Seventeen. His face hadn't moved yet. When this ends, I'll punch him. Blind placed his cards on the table. Twenty. Well done, Lucky Charms. I placed mine face up. Twenty-one. Blackjack. Fortune's and Aces' eyes widened, but they quickly regained their composure.

"Royal Flush wins the first hoof." Said Fortune, "Blackjack. Blind Luck comes second. Twenty. We begin second hoof."

All the players gave her our cards. She shuffled. First card. Reshuffled. Second card. I looked at faces. They glanced at me. I looked at my cards. Bad hoof. But today luck's on my side. Thirteen in total.

I scraped my cards against the table. Blind did too. Fortune placed a card on the table. Buck! A nine stared back at me from among my cards. Twenty-two. Fortune nodded.

Aces Up laid down her cards. Twenty. Poker Face showed his cards. Twenty. Blind placed his cards on the table. Eleven. Bad luck, Lucky Charms. I placed mine face up. Twenty-two.

"Poker Face and Aces Up win the second hoof. Tie." Announced the golden-coated Dealer, "We begin final hoof."

The same process as with the other two hooves was repeated. Shuffle. Card. Reshuffle. Card. Cold sweat ran down my spine like icy hooves creeping up on me. My eye twitched as my ears buried themselves in my mane. I didn't want to see the others' faces. But I had to. Look. A Discord and a six. I didn't scrape my cards this time. Fortune nodded. Jerkily.

Aces Up laid down her cards. Twenty-one. Blackjack.

Icy shivers racked me. I whimpered.

Poker face showed his. Seventeen.

A small tear fell from my eye.

Blind Luck placed his face up. Thirteen.

We're dead, Lucky Charms. I dropped my cards as a multitude of tears ran like a waterfall.

Abandon all hope. Abandon all hope...

Royal Flush

S P E C I A L

3 4 3 10 5 4 10

Traits: Dealer—Your position as a Dealer in Stable 7 has given you skill in the game. Which game? All of them. +25% chance of winning in games of chance and hitting in S.A.T.S.

Thicker Than Water—This saying originally meant bonds formed by blood in battle are stronger than those of family. Your friends give you confidence. So guess what? When travelling with companions you get a +25 HP bonus and a +5 Damage bonus. Without them you lose -10 HP and -2 Charisma.

Blind Luck

S P E C I A L

4 9 4 5 5 5 8

Traits: Heads Or Tails—You're lucky. As in: reaaally lucky. That and you are Head Dealer. You gain +1 to Luck. (Luck= 9)

Pinkie Sense— There's a twitching in your nose. It's not a cold. Probably. Your four senses are enhanced to almost inequine levels, making you more perceptive.