Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland

“Me? Nothing. Somepony else I know wants you.”

“Oh, good choice, good choice. This ones right here, he’s one of the strongest little filly slaves we have here.”

“Enjoy life outside maggot. Daddy Whiplie will miss your pretty ass.”

“You wanna cut his hoofs off, go ahead if you’re so worried that he, a little damaged colt, can kill us.”

“The PipBuck that you’re using now, will help you in your travel. Learn how to use it, and Deadtrot will meanwhile teach you on how to use a weapon and how to survive. Listen to everything he says, and try to learn to trust him. He’s your new best friend now.”

“I . . . . I’m your Mother.”

“He was definitely not somepony I’d want as a friend.”

“Goodluck . . . . . . I love you.”

Chapter 3: Welcome to the Wasteland

So I wasn’t always a little, worthless, slave, piece of shit that everpony including me always thought nopony cared about, huh? No.

I was always a little, worthless, slave, piece of shit that only one pony in the entire Equestrian Wasteland cared about. Or maybe just claimed to have.

As it turns out, that somepony was my Mother.

After the message ended, I was shocked.

I widened my eyes, I moaned, and I was just sitting without the slightest movement. That’s how surprised I was to hear, that my Mom was actually alive, and that she would actually still care about me.

You would think that despite all that confusion I felt at that very moment, I would feel some kind of relief or happiness to find out that there was still some family left for me to have in this bucked-up world.

But, unfortunately, at that time, 8 years of life in Out Town was still in my head, and still influenced my judgment of things.

My Mom, this Sunlight Flower, may have made it pretty clear that she loves her only son, and that she had perfect reason not to come to free me herself, but some anger was in me.

As far as I cared after hearing that message, a Mother was nothing to me but just a pony who gives birth to you.

So I could care less that I was her son that she still loved, because she pretty much made sure that I live the way I did. And believe me; today, not being born into this world is an act of mercy.

Being born in Out Town, THAT’S the worst place to which you can bring a child to.

That was what I thought among many things while still sitting there trying to put my mind straight.

In the end I honestly didn’t knew what to think of this whole scenario.

All I knew is that a new life was possible for me out there in the Wasteland and that all I had to do is listen to everything my “new friend” Deadtrot said, so that I could get there.

A friendship with him, is a hell all on its own as you will soon find out.

“Are you done already? Any more time, and I’ll motivate you to move by going ahead myself and leave you far behind.”

He finally spoke for the first time after the audio recording ended and it was just another rude sentence that brought me back to the memories of Out Town. Figures.

I putted down my hoof on which I had the PipBuck, and I listened to him.

He finally started schooling me on survival. Lesson one: handling the PipBuck.

“I’m guessing that electronics aren’t your strongest skills, so I’ll talk you through using the PipBuck as clearly as I can, but you better pay strict attention, because I have little patience and I won’t repeat myself.”

I gave him an “okay” and then tried to distance myself as much as possible from pissing him off.

He may have been my New Friend, but there’s was still a lot I didn’t knew about him or his temper. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

The stench of ghoulified blood was all over him, and I was still getting used to the sight of his skinned body.

I bet even the flies didn’t liked all that ghouliness. They probably knew more than me about a possible risk of radiation or catching some weird disease from Ghouls.

We began working on the PipBuck. Three big buttons on the front read “STATS”, “DATA”, and “EQUIPMENT”. We started with “STATS”.
I pushed the button, it started glowing and it showed on the terminal, what I assumed was me.

It was showing the current state of my body; all my limbs, head, tail, and torso were fine, apart from obvious exhaustion.

I switched to “RAD” and it showed how much radiation was in me. Luckily thanks to the RadAway still in my other hoof, it was decreasing.

Deadtrot showed me when should I be worried about my level of radiation. He said that beyond 100 would be bad enough. For normal Ponies anyway.

He was a ghoul, so radiation didn't bother him.

I think it's safe to say that those little PipBucks, REALLY impressed me.

The most advanced piece of technology I ever saw in Out Town were only some energy weapons, and terminals connecting to torture devices, and infirmaries whenever the Riaders were short on slaves.

I've looked forward to see how much other awesome stuff this thing could do. But, fate, destiny, luck or whatever controlled my life then, were still against me.

A familiar sound came way back from the tunnels behind us, from which I assumed this whole time was where we crawled from.
Yup. The ferals were back for us.

I further disliked Deadtrot when he responded to the growling sounds

“Hey, hey, hey. Looks like they want a desert.” He said as he picked up a torch from the fire.

And that was our hint to start Lesson 3: Combat.

Deadtrot then took off the RadAway from my hoof, quite painfully. Maybe every minute counted at that moment that he didn’t want to waste time being more gentle, or maybe he was just a careless asswhole.

Afterwards he pressed another button on my PipBuck, right above the screen, and the PipBuck started emitting light. Those things had rad-counting clocks, they determined your health, off course they also had flashlights.

It was now enough light for me to see farther. It will definitely help in the upcoming fight.

He then gave me a pistol. I recognized that it was one of the Mercs’s. I hated the thought that their saliva were still on it. Probably taken right from their corpses. Now I had to put it in my mouth to shoot it. But honestly, I’ve had worse things in my mouth when I was a slave.

It was a heat of the moment and I had to think fast. That was pretty much what I heard must happen in combat; to have a steady awareness of the whole situation.

Perhaps it worked, or perhaps I was just panicked. I suddenly got full awareness of the whole area. The tunnel was bigger, the ceiling was higher, and train trolleys were around us. That’s why the ground felt so uncomfortable, we were sitting this whole time on tracks.

We were no longer in a tunnel, we were in a giant-ass cave, and the tunnel from which we came from was right in front of us, now swarming with more Feral Ghouls.

I tried to think fast, but the only thing I did next is letting Deadtrot know the most important fact in the current situation.

“Mister, I never fired a gun before!”

He showed little surprise to that, and responded,

“Perfect time to learn then”

After I ‘armed myself’ with it, and Deadtrot figured I couldn’t talk with this gun in my mouth, he finally started helping.

The tunnel entrance had a switch next to it. He threw the torch to the tunnel so we could see them coming and then he pushed the button. Suddenly a giant gate blocked the tunnel entrance.

He apparently knew it would take me a while to learn how to shoot this thing using only my tongue. So blocking the path, DEFINETLY bought me some time.

“You better figure out how to shoot, QUICKLY." He yelled, "This gate is many years old and its rusty. Judging by the amount of growling, there’s enough of them there to push it off completely.”

For a second I pictured the Ghouls doing as he said and then jumping at me. I did as he advised, and quickly started looking for the trigger of the pistol with my tongue.

Deadtrot meanwhile climbed a latter to the top of a nearby rubble of rocks, just right of where I stood. I thought that meant for us to run. However, what he did next made me think more and more about whether Ponies can be better than raiders out in this wretched Wasteland.

Before I could climb the latter, he pulled it up.

He just pulled it and placed up there with him, leaving me down there within the range of the pony-eaters.

I spat out the pistol from my mouth and screamed.

“WHAT THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING!? WHAT ABOUT ME!?!?”

Before he could possibly think of SOME answer, he was interrupted by loud racket at the gate. The ferals finally spotted us, and seeing that I’m still on the ground level, they started reaching out their hoofs at me.

Their growling was sending more than just chills down my spine.

“Worry about that later. THEY are your bigger problem now.” Deadtrot finally answered my question. Though not the answer I hoped for.

Just when I screamed "WHAT ABOUT YOU!?!?", he suddenly vanished, like he just went and left me to die.

You can't possibly imagine how much I suddeny hated him for that.

Wasn't it bad enough for him to have the detonator to my collar?

But then another loud noise of rusty metal came from the gate. The ghouls were beginning to break it off the locks. The possibility of my organs becoming breakfest was getting closer.

It’s general knowledge that feral ghoul ponies don’t have much basic knowledge. They were just pushing themselves against the rusty metal bars, like they thought they could come through it like ghosts. Apparently they felt little pain. Those WERE technically already dead Ponies.

I thought I could climb the rubble. I tried, but without that later I was just clawing the rocks. Climbing it with just my hoofs wasn't possible.

I quickly picked up the pistol I just spat out and I came back to trying figuring out the core concept of shooting a gun with your mouth.

I finally felt the trigger.

I didn't even aimed first. I just felt the trigger and pulled it.

This time, the sound of a loud bang was easy to overcome, but the force of the shot almost pushed my away one step. I just fire it, and I felt my whole body shaking for a second. And my teeth? Shit, how my teeth hurt when it happened.

Off course, I missed. The bullet just went at the bar of the gate, right next to one of their heads.

Sure, the impact of the shot hurt in my mouth, but I just kept firing, cause being eaten alive would hurt even more.

I was scared shitless, that simple. Four more shots went and they all missed too.

I stopped thinking about firing relentlessly for a moment, and this time putted a bit more focus into aiming.

This focus then triggered something in my PipBuck that in a matter of time would later become my greatest advantage in all my battles.

Things suddenly slowed down. I didn't do aything then but just kept going at it.

Everything was literally frozen in time, and the Ghouls were easier for me to kill. Numbers appeared all around them. I targeted on of their heads. 59%. I fired two bullets and both hit him. One right in the forehead, the other got right at his left eye. Then he was just hanging by the bars.

That was S.T.A.T.S that I was using. Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell. All PipBucks had those special spells on them, and as you can surely figure out, this was a special spell that allowed anypony who wears a PipBuck to literally target their enemies easier, whether it would be from a firing weapon or using a melee weapon.

It simply freezes time in your mind, and all you can do then is target and shoot. It even calibrates in percentages the possibility of hitting the target's body part.

The company that created PipBucks, Stable-Tec even produced them in a way that would work even for non-unicorn Ponies, and that's a very good idea, since those PipBucks used the combined powers of Science AND magic to make that spell happen.

Finally, something good happens. I aimed the pistol again and the S.T.A.T.S started saving my life again.

Targeted another one of those trotting corpses. Target; torso, 61%. Three shots. Fire.

First shot, hits, second one, hits, Ghoul starts feeling the pain. Third shot, he dies. Now there was just two of them left.

Unfortnetly, by the time there was only two of them left, the gate was already broken off a few hinges. Two Ghouls, was still enough to break off the gate.

I quickly tried to trigger S.T.A.T.S again with my focus, but it didn't worked. I quickly figured out that this spell must have some kind of limited usage.

So, while I pictured again the possibility of my demise, I aimed as well as I could. No fancy spells to save me.

I just narrowd closed my left eye and narrowed the right one. Finally had one Ghoul head in the middle of the sight of my right eye, the one under which the barrel was.

I pulled the trigger, and click. No fire.

You know what that means; out of bullets.

Guess it's up to 10 bullets per magazine?

The Ghoul duo then finally broke down the gate. One of them tripped over along with it, while the other just ran straight at me.

I just looked at him running. His bloody-red eyes opened wide, and his throat extended, so that he could just in a second sink his disgusting yellow teeth into my face.

At that moment time suddenly froze too. That wasn't S.T.A.T.S though, it was me standing petrified as I felt death coming.

Why didn't I ran?

Good question. I guess that's what fear does to you when you experience it for the first time, in lengths THAT big.

To think that I would miss Out Town. In there I would have been eaten eventually too, but the Riaders at least want their food dead already. That's as much dignity as you can expect from each of them.

I saw the Ghoul now being just inches away from me. So close I could hear his breath pounding for meat.

I would finally die knowing only that the Wasteland is no better than Out Town, that my Mother was out there somewhere sending selfish monsters to save me, and that the pistol carries only 10 lousy bullets.

Eyes closed.

Teetch clenched.

SPLAT!!!!!

Finally I had blood in my eyes.

It wasn't my blood though.

And the sound wasn't my head being torn appart. It was the Ghoul's head blowing up.

Then all of a sudden, the Ghoul was lying underneath me, without his head, and blood pouring out where it should have been.

What remained of it was all over me.

I'm pretty sure I even got some of that blood in my mouth too.

Instead of being frightingly terrified I was now frightingly surprised, though still petrified.

Finally I snapped out of it when I heard a familiar voice calling.

"WAKE UP YOU IDIOT!!!"

I looked to where the noise came from, it was Deadtrot. He came back.

It was he who blew the Ferals head off.

I saw him standing there on the same rubble, holding his sniper rifle with the barrel was still smoking.

Did he suddenly had a change of heart?

He was giving me the same "You're so useless" face expression, right before he looked at the other Ghoul standing up and charging at me.

He then immedeatly aimed his rifle again and took the shot.

Blood and body parts were again flying, and this time it was one of the hoofs.

The ghoul had now three of them left, and was crawling towards me, verly slowly.

Ignoring how oddly impressive it was that he needed just a split-second to aim and shoot, I was now just confused to what side on was my poorly matched friend. And that's exactly what I asked him.

"WHAT THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING!? WHO THE ACTUAL BUCK ARE YOU HELPING OUT HERE!?"

"Shut your dumb ass mouth and use this!" he answered while he holstered his weapon and threw me a sledgehammer.

"Finish off that thing and I'll answer your questions, and a reminder, I still have the detonator to your collar."

Deadtrot said it while showing it to me. I completely forgot that I still had my collar.

I left the thinking for a bit later and just did what he said.

I picked up the sledgehammer. This weapon was actually easier for me to handle. I've had a lot of experience with it in my life; turning big rocks into little rocks.

I didn't hesitate. I lifted the hammer in my mouth, and I turned the ghouls head into a squished apple.

Who would have thought that smashing heads with hammers is easier than smashing actual rocks.

I was looking forward to Deadtrot's explanation as he jumped from the rubble and approached me. I didn't demand the explanation though. He did still had the detonator.

He took a brief look at the dead ghouls at the tunnel that I managed to kill with S.T.A.T.S, and turned to me saying.

"Well, the PipBuck is working, but you're gonna need more practice with that spell."

I was going to respond sarcastically, but remembering that he still had that bucking detonator, I was back to doing my damnest not to piss him off.

"So um . . . . . Am I to assume you had this whole thing under control? And you knew all this would happen?"

"I expected most of it to happen, but clearly I have given you yoo much credit." He answered as he started reloading the pistol I used. Possibly recalling the fact that I waste too much bullets shooting blind.

"Simply put, I wanted to see if you could handle yourself."

And that was the overall answer he gave me. Didn't help much so I asked while still acting insuperior to him.

"I-I guess that m-makes sense, but why was leaving me alone neccessary?"

Then all of a sudden, he dropped his 'Don't buck with me, I won't kill you altitude', and answered.

"Well, notice how you were scared more of being alone. You acted more quickly. You aknowledged the possibility of a slow and painful death, and you responded by trying to stop that from happening."

He wasn't really wrong. I was seeing those Ghouls and all I could think of was running, or killing.

"I know this from first-hoof experience: fear, is a hell of a motivation to act."

That made me hate him even more.

I was considering a reply in form of a "Well, you sure have a funny way of teaching survival." But at the same time, his crazy philosophy kicked in. I was affraid of him doing anything with me with that detonator and that made me stop thinking of punching him myself. I wanted to do it so badly.

Suddenly I thought, that this chosen guide-ghoul-pony is really no different from the Out-Town radiers.

If this is really the way he wants me to learn about the wasteland, than surviving in it with HIM is really no different from living in Out-Town with raiders. Both him and them do try to keep me alive, but at many times risk killing me anyway.

I guess the difference is that the Raiders would do it for fun. But he does it to teach survival.

I'm not sure I want to learn survival that way. But the collar was a constant reminder that it is not up to me.

He was probably trying to read my mind as he finished reloading the pistol.

"You're not complaining. Good. Teaching you survival is hard enough as it is. So do me a favor."

"Yeah, what?" I answered as if I was still talking to a master.

"There will be many more lessons from now on. You ever fail to pay attention, and you will pay with it with your own life. Because in the Wasteland, every mistake you make can very well be your last."

I considered this fact.

"You want me to deliver you to your dearest Mommy? Whatever, What. Ever. I say, you do. Otherwise, I can might as well kill you now. Believe me when I say, I wouldn't regret it."

And that's another update to my life in the Wasteland.

My fate as of now, was in the hoofs of a crazy delusional Ghoul, who apperently has only his own life to care about. That is, if Ghouls qualify as living things, or just walking corpses.

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Skilled - You are skilled but not experinced. You gain +5 points to every skill, but you suffer -10% from experience gained from now on.