Fallout Equestria: Clean Slate

by tropenamer

Rating: mature
Tags: Crystal Ponies, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character, Mystery, Princess Cadance, Science Fiction, Comedy, Queen Chrysalis, Adventure, Shining Armor, Crossover
Length: 12557

Welcome to a place where harmony is a distant memory that can be bought and sold for a nominal fee, where nothing is as it seems, and trust can be more deadly than radiation. Welcome to the Principality Wasteland. Welcome home

In a flash, Clear Shine finds herself in an Equestria brutally different from the one she left behind. Beset in all sides by desperate scavengers, grotesque mutants, psychotic mercenaries, and mysterious golems, the Last Crystal Pony's search for answers uncovers a conspiracy two centuries in the making beginning to bear fruit that could plunge the Principality into a new fiery conflict that could wipe out pony-kind for good. To survive to find the truth, Clear Shine will have to rely on her wits, ingenuity, and the unlikely friends she meets along the way. But in a world where nothing is as it appears to be and memories are bought and sold, can anypony be trusted?
Welcome to the Principality Wasteland.
Welcome home.

Published 2015-08-26 05:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-19 14:03:09 UTC

Prologue: Life in the Wasteland

Prologue: Life in the Wasteland

"Are you talking to...yourself?"

A discarded radio squawked and buzzed with static as it tried its damnedest to transmit a distant signal. Intermittently a long dead mare would chirp a merry tune of happier times, from a time when folks still believed in happy times.

kzzzzzt!gonna make you smile and I'll brighten up your daaaaaay!

It doesn't matter nowkzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

'Cause cheering up my friends is just what Pikzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

I'd like to say I'm the unicorn raider relieving his bladder underneath the dead tree where he had hung some poor bastard by his own guts.

Hell, I'd even take the dead guy. Sure he had an interesting story to tell. You know, before he was garroted with his own esophogus.

Now, neither one of these options may seem too appealing to you, but trust me, once you've seen the alternative, you'll see where I'm coming from.

The raider hasn't noticed the shape creeping behind him, the skeletal ruins of the nearby crashed MoM Zeppelin providing cover as it stalked closer towards the ravine. Asshole just keeps admiring his handiwork swinging lazily in the breeze as he does his business. Even whistled along to the dying radio.

'Cause I love to make you smile, smile, smile

With a growl the predator bursts from the shade of the rusted hunk of Equestria's troubled past and dashed towards the raider, jaws wide and slavering with anticipation as it lunged...only to be shot between the eyes with the shotgun it's supposed prey had enveloped in a magic field. The mole-rat crumpled limply to the ground as the raider chuckled to himself, shaking off the last droplets of piss.

He turned to the fallen beast licking his lips. Probably imagining what roast mole-rat tastes like. He levitated a cigarette to his mouth, lit it, and casually blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

That was when the looming newcomer lurking behind him coughed.

The raider spun around coming muzzle to chest with a huge brown earth stallion, scars crisscrossing over his taught muscles, his greasy black mane lank with hygienic neglect as his matching tail twitched spasmodically. A metal mask with a damaged breather obscured the stallion's face, though a copper eye gleamed merrily with madness through the broken half of his visor. But I think what commanded most of the raider's attention as his jaw dropped and his cigarette fell to the ground, a trail of smoke following after, was the rusty, bloodied axe clenched in a hoof the size of a cantaloupe.

I want to tell him to run. Run fast, run far and hide forever. Run so that he wouldn't have to be killed, so that I wouldn't be forced to watch helplessly as this lunatic slaughtered another pony before my eyes. But what actually comes out of my mouth is:

"Imma pretty, pretty unicorn!"

That look of terror at war with utter bafflement disintegrated to shock and panic across the raider's face as the brute sank the axe into his neck. There was enough force behind that swing to sever the raider's head, but the blade was simply too dull to make a clean cut and stuck into the vertebrae.

The magic nimbus surrounding the shotgun imploded and the weapon clattered to the ground along with its owner, falling to his knees, gurgling and clutching at his neck, as he gushed blood from both the wound and his mouth.

In time he would have choked on his own blood, but his attacker had other plans. The axe was jerked away with a sickening sluice, lifted again and with an animal scream, was brought down into the dying raider's chest, shattering his rib cage. The unicorn on the ground made a final plaintive gurgle for mercy, but the masked stallion brought down another blow that sunk into the raider's chest. The light in the pony's eyes went dim and he fell silent as one final bubble of blood burst between his lips just as the radio squeaked out its last breath.

kzzzzzzzzzzt!All I really needs a smile, smile, smile from these happy friends of mine!bzzzzzzzzrrrrrrrrrrrp!

I tend to have that effect.

This, I'm sorry to say, is me.

Yeah, I know, not much to look at. As you can probably tell, I haven't exactly been myself lately. Not that I remember what being myself is like.

I stand over the raider's corpse, head cocked to the side. I don't know why I don't just smash the rest of the visor. It'd make it so much easier to see. But what do I care? I'm crazy! I pawed at the unicorn's spiked blood-soaked barding and saddlebags. He had a depleted pack of cigarettes, four shotgun rounds, and a disporportionate amount of Rage. I ignored them. I picked up the shot gun though, only to empty it into the air giggling at the sound it made, and once it was out of ammo, tossed it aside.

I know. Makes no sense to me either.

Propped against the trunk of the hanging tree was an overturned wagon, no doubt it belonged the the dead pony, ammo and provisions were scattered carelessly all over the ground, but I disregarded these as well. How the hell have I stayed alive this long?! I did, however take the jerkey laying in the dirt, until I took a bite out of it and promptly spat it out. Someone should write this Arbu place and complain. That was the worst radigator I ever tasted.

Fortunately I wouldn't go hungry. The raider with the new chest cavity had provided me with free mole-rat. I didn't bother cooking it. Who has the time right? I lifted my axe and with a cry of "GIMME BACK MY MEAT SCARF!" I split the dead animal open and promptly dug in, adjusting the breather so I could gulp down mouthful after bloody mouthful. All the while the gutted peddler swung in the breeze.

I have no idea who the raider's victim was. Probably didn't deserve what he got. That doesn't make him special though. Innocent. Not so innocent. "Deserve" doesn't really factor into the Wasteland. All you can do is take what you can, kill before you are killed, and hope your luck holds out long enough to die of radiation poisoning before you're horribly mutated by Taint. And so long as it doesn't feel like killing you, the wasteland twists and warps your body, mind, and soul into something nasty. Probably what happened to me. The wasteland takes everything from everypony, and what favors it gives are few and far between. I don't put much stock in justice or vengeance. And even if I did, I'm probably too squirrelly for them to mean much anyway. The wasteland just ran out of patience with the pony swinging from the tree.

Wrong place. Wrong time.

That's all.

Hey, I asked myself. Remember when we were, you know, not crazy?

"Imma frolic through a mystic meadow of viscera!" I shout through gobs of mole rat.

Yeah, me neither. Can you even hear me?

"That platypus stole my yogurt!"

Fantastic.

Now, I don't remember much myself, but I'm almost positive that we would go hours - days even - without screaming about meat scarfs or skipping merrily through a field of innards. Seriously, is there even a word for what's wrong with you?

"My withers are tingling!"

Okay, ignoring you now. What was that raider doing out here all by himself anyway? Raiders never travel alone. Did he get lost? Separated from the rest of his gang in a fight? Scouting maybe?

"Kickass!" shouted a raider.

"Hrrk!" I grunted as a rope looped around my neck and tightened.

Or maybe the others were camped nearby, got suspicious when their buddy didn't return from his piss break, and are now more than a little peeved that I splattered his entrails all over the ravine.

I swung my axe and chopped at the lasso as my attacker, a shit-stain brown earth pony stallion with a fushia mohawk, dragged me towards him. It took a couple of tries but the rope broke and I was on my hooves.

I bellowed my terrifying battle cry, "Spank me teacher! I've been a bad, bad boy!"

Well done. That should put the fear of Luna in the hearts of our foes.

"Grab him! Grab him!" shouted shit-stain, an all at once I was surrounded by four more raiders.

I deflected a knife with the shaft of my axe, but took a bullet through my shoulder. I swung clumsily but the raiders in front of me, a shaven headed vomit green unicorn mare with a nose ring connected to an earring by a chain and another earth stallion with a purple coat and teeth filed to points, deftly dodged out of the way and I was charged from behind.

Focus dumbass! You're overwhelmed. You have to get out of here, or you're finished!

I heard a chain swinging behind me but I was ready this time. I swing my foreleg out, catching the chain, letting it wrap around my hoof and then, before the puce earth mare with the burlap hood could react, I yanked the chain causing her to fall on her face.

Good, I have two weapons now. My situation's marginally improved.

"Rattle! Rattle!" I crow, swinging both axe and chain, completely unaffected by the gaping hole in my shoulder. "Chains to rattle and bones for chattel!"

Hey, a poet and I didn't know it.

...

Oh come on! He's done nothing but say stupid shit, I'm entitled to one bad pun!

The chain hits vomit in the face, catching on her own chain and tearing the ring from her nostril leaving a nasty gash across her muzzle. The second report of gunfire, and a bullet whizzing past my ear, alerts me to the position of my sixth assailant, a washed out blue stallion with a neon green mane styled into spikes running from his forehead to the nape of his neck, reloading his rifle and taking aim for another shot. I duck and dash, using the other raiders as equid shields when I could.

"Hold that motherfucker still!" somepony shouted. I chopped off shit-stain's hoof, and somepony buried a knife in my flank, cutting into my bitten cookie cutie mark. I reared, whirled around and lunged at the sharp-toothed purple stallion savagely beating his face in.

"Get him off me!" the raider cried out plaintively between blows. "Get him off me!"

I laughed. I laughed at my victem's helplessness. I laughed as my blood ran down my chest, foreleg, and hind leg. I laughed at the desperation of my situation as several pairs if hooves grabbed me, hauled me away from sharp teeth and threw me to the ground. I laughed as the raider's all stomped and trampled me, taking my axe from me and magically tying my forehooves together with the chain. I laughed because the only thing more fucked up than this whole fucking world was me.

The group parted to let spikey mane through. He cocked his rifle, took aim and...

"Hold it!" shouted shit-stain through gritted teeth, bandaging the stump where his hoof used to be. "Hold the fuck up!"

The others paused to glare at him. So shit-stain was probably their leader.

"Fucker killed Kleaver, Skid Mark!" protested the mare in the burlap hood. "Fucker's gotta die!"

"Fucker took my fucking hoof!" roared Skid Mark, spittle flying from his mouth. "He's gonna die alright! Slowly! Painfully! In pieces!"

The others grinned and nodded their approval to each other.

"Drag him back to base!" barked Skid Mark.

I should beg for mercy, or spit my defiance, or just stare stonily at my captors. That's what a sane pony would do. But I'm, well, me, so instead what I say is:

"Will you still respect me in the morning?"

"Shut him up Gnasher," growled the raider leader.

The sharp-toothed buck leered down at me then lifted a rock and brought it down on my temple.

"Cut...them open..." I growled. "Hear their....screams..."

Gnasher smashed the rock against my head again, and everything went dark, leaving me alone with my nightmares.

oOo-

>Initializing Program_

>System Error/850D101_

>Initiating system scan_

>Scanning...scanning...sca0101101011001011_

>Error/850D269_

>System scan interrupted_

>Danger! Catastrophic damage sustained_

>Initiating self-repair systems_

>Error_

>Cannot locate self-repair talisman_

>Error_

>Cannot access medical suite_

>Error_

>Cannot locate central spell matrix_

>Accessing auxiliary spell generator_

>Access failed_

>Accessing emergency E.F.S. power_

>Connecting...connecting...connecting_

>Connection established_

>E.F.S. is now available for use_

>Warning! Visor damaged_

>S.A.T.S. accuracy impaired by 45%_

>Immediate repairs recommended_

>Accessing system log_

>Error_

>File corrupted_

>Danger! Virus detected_

>System purge initiated_

>Processing...processing...processing_

>System purge complete_

>M.W.T. factory settings restored_

>Attemping contact with nearest command center_

>Contact out of range_

>Searching for new signal_

>Warning! 11 hostiles detected_

>Use of lethal force recommended_

13:45/Tuesday/Shoe Line Railway Platform 49 a.k.a "Raider Fortress"

My eyes fluttered open and I blinked in the afternoon light. I was hung from a dangling hook, my fore-hooves still chained together. My captors hadn't noticed I'd regained consciousness. I ached from the beating they gave me but I stayed silent, taking stock of my surroundings. I was in a dilapidated train car. Everywhere was evidence of the raider's defilement, ancient luggage torn apart and scattered haphazardly all over the rotted floor; obscenities spray painted on the walls alongside corpses pinned like grotesque trophies; the severed heads on meat hooks dangling from the ceiling much like the one I was suspended from.

Honestly, I've never felt more at home, but there was the matter of the lumps on my head. And the bruised ribs. And the bullet wounds. And the knife wound in my flank. And my stolen axe. Oh yeah. Somepony was going to have to bleed for that.

Gnasher and another raider I haven't seen before, a piss-stain yellow mare with scars stretching her mouth from ear to ear in a permanent grin, stood guard over myself and several ragged mares and fillies chained to the wall or locked in pet cages, either whimpering pitifully or staring listlessly into space, having retreated to the sanctuary of their own minds.

"I can break these cuffs..." I growled under my breath. Indeed you probably could, but not without attracting attention. We have no idea where we are, or how many wasteland assholes we're dealing wi...

Saaaaaaay. That's new. Since when did we have an Eyes Forward Sparkle? Or a Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell? You mean to tell me we had this mask all this time and it wasn't just a really ugly accessory?!

Okay, okay. Focus. We can use this. Eleven hostiles, so the two red dots must be Gnasher and the scarred mare, and all these green dots, the captives. The other raiders are likely outside. And a whole mess more than the ones who ambushed me. We'll need a weapon if we're going to stand a chance. But the guard ponies are the immediate problem.

I look around the debris-strewn floor; broken bottles of Sparkle-Cola, gnawed bones, spent bullet casings...hello Mr. Crowbar.

With a glance at my guards, I test the chains. The raiders made sure they were securely fastened, but they were in poor condition, rusted and corroded by the elements. With a little leverage I could break free, but not without making noise. something to worry about later. For now, reach for that crowbar. I reach for it with my left hindleg. Closer. I shift my weight, jingling the chains in the process, and sending me swaying. The two raiders' heads snap towards me. Gnasher,sporting a shiner and a fat lip from the pummeling I gave him, grinned, showing fresh gaps in his sharpened teeth.

"Well lookth like the pawty favow'th awake," he lisped through his broken smile. I couldn't help it. I laughed. Even if I were sane, I'd probably burst out laughing. I don't know if it was a pre-existing condition or the result of his earlier beat down, either way he sounded silly.

Gnasher glared through his good eye. "Go tell Thkid Mawk."

Piss-stain sighed and rolled her eyes."He doesn't want you alone with him."

"Don't wowwy Gwinn, I won't kill him," the raider grinned slyly. "Bethideth, they got your favowite fuckmare out there. You don't want Thkid to make a total meth of her before you've had a piece, wight?"

Gwinn...I mean Grinn... looked at him levelly before shaking her head and trotting out. "Just be sure to leave some for Skid," she called over her shoulder, as she slid the door closed behind her. "Or he'll skin both our asses."

Gnasher leered at me and padded closer so he could glare up at me. "Not tho tough without your axth are ya, bitchth?"

I just cackled madly again.

I'm sorry, a raider with a speech impediment takes a serious penalty to the menacing presence factor.

"You think I'm funny motherfucker?!" shrieked the raider. "I'LL THOW YOU FUNNY!"

He beat me. My bruised ribs graduated into broken ones. I tasted blood. I kept laughing.

The purple stallion growled in frustration, touching a hoof to the hilt of one of the machetes at his flanks, then smirked as a new idea entered his head. He leaned close and looked me in the eye.

"You mutht be one ugwy thon of a mule to wear that mathk all the time," he growled as he undid the clasps to my mask and I froze. "Let'th thee jutht how ugwy."

He yanked off my mask.

I blinked, shocked. Then I screamed.

"Oh you don't wike that do you?" Gnasher smirked as he placed the mask over his own face.

"My face!" I cried straining against my bonds sending me swinging. "Gimme back my face!"

"Naw," he chuckled' delivering a buck to my jaw. "I think it wooks better on me. Howy shit! It's got fuckin' eee-eff-eth! I'm tho keeping this!"

"Give it back!" I howled, bloody foam flying from my lips.

"What are you gonna do to make me?" sneered Gnasher. "We own your sowwy ass now. You're nothing but a stupid! Cwazy! Shit-headed! Motherfucker!" He punctuated each exclaimation with a kick to my stomach.

"Give. It. Back." I growled barely above a whisper.

"Or what?" Gnasher demanded leaning in again so we were muzzle to muzzle.

SHUNK!

Gnasher's eye widened in ashtonishment.

He stared at one of his machetes protruding from his chest.

Then he stared at my tail coiled around its hilt, shoving the blade in deeper.

Then he stared into my eyes, no fear, no pleading, just complete and utter incomprehension.

"Da...fuq...?" the raider wheezed as he slumped forward beneath my dangling hind hooves.

Actually, that's a fair question. Since when are pony tails prehensile?

Regardless, I used my newfound freakish ability to my advantage, finally reaching Mr. Crowbar, passing it up to my mouth and prying off the chains around my forehooves. Kicking Gnasher's body onto his back, I tear my mask from his face and put it over my own, breathing a sigh of relief.

I don't remember what I look like, but it can't be a pretty sight.

Five red dots on E.F.S. indicated that the others were stationary some distance away outside. They either haven't heard the commotion or were too preoccupied the the green dot they surrounded to pay it any mind. Five more were placed at intervals along a perimeter. Lookouts, no, sentries. This wasn't just a band of tweaked out thugs, they were part of some larger operation, but to what end?

Questions for later.

Unless I lost interest.

Or I forgot.

I explored the train car, once I snapped Gnasher's barding around my flanks. The machetes weren't my axe, but they were sharp. Perfect for sticking into other ponies.

The other prisoners cringed away from my passing but made no noise beyond the odd hiccup and whimper. I paid them no mind. Finding nothing of value, I shoved open the door and hopped out. Machetes were good but I was going to need something with a bit more oomph if I was going to deal with those red dots.

I found myself in a ruined train yard, surrounded by a labyrinth of rusted carcasses of boxcars and freight, engines of progress and industry, halted forever. Some of the cars were emblazoned with the Stable-Tec logo, a Sparkle-Cola ad, or a friendly reminder that Pinkie Pie was watching us. Forever. My E.F.S. pinged softly as a pair of red dots started moving towards me.

I immediately drew the machetes, one in my hind hoof and one in my tail (I will in no way question this), ready to unleash carnage.

Don't be stupid.

"Imma makes scrunchies outta their spines!"

"What was that?" asked one of the approaching raider sentries.

"I think it came from over here," answered the other, their hoofsteps growing nearer.

"Strip the flesh, find the truth," I hissed in anticipation.

Dammit, stop ignoring me like I'm some sort of exposition fairy! If you don't do this right, one of them could get away and alert the others, then they'll surround us and make us dead. I cocked my head, almost as though listening. Worth a shot.

Okay the train cars will provide lots of cover. Use that to your advantage. Disorient and isolate them if you can. Then you can pick them off one by one. You got all that?

"Shhhh! Sneaky sneak." I whispered as I slid with a deftness that belied my size beneath the train car, just as the guards rounded the corner.

"Huh," grunted one of the raiders. "Could've sworn I heard something."

His companion growled. "You need to lay off the Brahmin shit, it's making you all squirrely."

The first snorted, then spoke hesitantly, "Hey, did somepony leave the slave car open?"

"I'll check it out," sighed the second. I listened to his retreating hoofsteps until he hopped into the car. I slithered out from my hiding place and sliced the raider's throat. Blood sprayed from the wound as the second one rushed out of the car, clearly having found Gnasher's body. Before he could react, my tail whipped and flung the other machete, flying end over end, until it buried itself into the raider's left eye. I searched the bodies, the arterial bleeder was armed with a varmint rifle, a knife, and a paper bag of dung (somepony had a problem!), while the stallion with the ventilated cranium had his own set of knives and a revolver. I recovered my machete and took everything. Three down. Eight to go. More weapons were good but I wasn't yet confident I could take on so many armed raiders...even though I was positively salivating at the prospect of more bloodshed.

"Kill! Kill! KILL!" I chanted as one of the mares motioned at me. When she had my attention, she gestured toward the train car with the male alicorn logo of Solaris Inc ("Try the Alternative."). It was chained shut and secured with a padlock.

I delivered a buck to the lock. It immediately became a non-issue.

Within were supplies and provisions, no doubt looted from caravans slaughtered by these raiders. There were stacks of jerky, Fancy-buck Cakes, and cans of dried fruit; bottles of Sparkle-Cola, Sunrise Sarsaparilla, Apple Whiskey and Wild Pegasus lined the shelves; and scattered haphazardly were syringes of Rage and Med-X, tablets of Buck and vials of healing potions. Ponies tweaked out on these were sure to be dangerous in a fight, I mused as I downed one of the healing potions, coughing as I felt my bruises fade and my ribs knit. But what occupied my full attention at the moment was that the raiders' pantry/medicine cabinet was also an armory. They had crates and crates of munitions, from double barrel shotguns to revolvers, rifles to metal apples (ooh, I could do naughty, naughty things with those!), .223 pistols and...wait...was that...? It couldn't be!

"Ooooh! Shiny!"

-oOo-

I tip-hoofed my way through the train yard, lugging my cumbersome prize behind me. The raider fort was in the train platform in the middle of the train yard. No wonder the raiders had so many suppies. The train cars provided a perfect barricade to any invader. But today, I grinned behind my breather, it would prove their downfall. I weaved between the boxcars, avoiding detection as I listened to the raiders whoop and cheer, before taking position behind an abandoned caboose left in front of the platform.

"I am sneaking, I am sneaking, I am sneaking..." I whispered.

Stop that, we're being stealthy dammit.

Upon the platform, the other raiders were encircled around Skid Mark and Grinn doing something to a weeping mare that even madness wasn't a shield from.

I activated S.A.T.S. taking careful aim. This strategy hinged on the element of surprise, shock, and awe.

I giggled to myself.

Or maybe there was no strategy and I just wanted to kill some shit.

I squeezed the trigger and fired.

Spiky raider went rigid as the saddle-mounted Vulcan XM-216 minigun turned him into bloody swiss cheese as burlap hood behind him dived out of the way but not before taking two bullets in her flank and one in her hindleg.

The rest of the raiders scattered for cover as I sprayed the platform with bullets. The mare, now quite forgotten, curled up into a quivering ball.

"Fuck!" shouted Grinn from behind a busted generator. "Who the fuck is that?"

"I am the bringer of piping hot death!" I crowed, letting loose another salvo of gunfire. The mare on the platform, miraculously, remained unharmed. I'd like to say it was by design, but more likely I, just like her tormentors, simply forgot she was there.

"It's that crazy motherfucker from this morning!" grunted the vomit green unicorn levitating a rifle to return fire. "How'd he get past Gnasher?"

"Fuck Gnasher!" shouted Skid Mark drawing a revolver. "How the fuck did that looney get his hooves on my Vulcan?! Killing us, now that's one thing, but stealing the Khan's gift?! Waste the fucker!"

The exchanges of projectiles and profanities continued for several minutes. S.A.T.S. managed to take down vomit green, shattering her horn and rendering her catatonic, as well as injure burlap hood. But then the Vulcan started smoking and jammed. As impressive a weapon as the minigun was, it's tendency to overheat after prolonged use could be an issue. Especially in the middle of a gunfight. With a frustrated roar I threw it on the ground and drew a machete.

"Follow me into Dream Valley!" I shouted galloping into the train graveyard.

Harsh language behind me signaled that the raiders took the bait. Amid the train cars I could isolate my remaining pursuers with the help of my E.F.S. and pick them off one by one. Suddenly my visor pinged.

>Signal found_

>Happy Hooves' Wasteland Jamboree_

>Current broadcast: "Living in the Sunlight" by Pony Tim_

Then the music started as a high-pitched voice gleefully sang to the accompaniment of a ukulele.

I'm so happy!

Aha!

Happy go lucky me!

I just go my way!

Living everyday!

"I hear something!" somepony shouted. "Over there!"

I dived beneath a train car at the approach of running hoof steps.

I don't worry!

Worrying don't agree

Things that bother you

Never bother me!

"What is that annoying music?" growled burlap hood, as I shimmied up the ladder on the back of the car and crawled across the roof. I pounced, machete drawn and fell upon the two raiders.

Things that bother you

Never bother me

I feel happy and fine!

AHA!

Grinn looked up just in time to have her head split in half. As she crumpled to the ground, burlap tackled me from behind.

Living in the sunlight

Loving in the moonlight

Having a wonderful time!

Her pupils were dialated to tiny dots and her breathing was rushed, tell tale sings of Buck and Rage in her system. Probably some Med-X mixed into that cocktail for the bullet wounds too. With a howl she fell upon me, hammering at my torso with drug enhanced strength. With a roar I head-butted her sending her sprawling.

Haven't got a lot

I don't need a lot

Coffee's only a dime

Living in the sunlight

Loving in the moonlight

Having a wonderful time!

I lunged at her swinging my machete but she jabbed her hind hooves into my chest and catapulted me into the box car. She rolled into a crouch and dashed at my prone form. I lay still until she was close enough then I rolled out of the way and let her slam into the iron plating of the train car. With the Buck coursing through her system she wasn't even phased, but the impact gave her pause. It was all the opening I neededd to stab her through the ribs with my blade. Coughing up blood she took hold of the blade and yanked it further into herself, pulling me along with it, so she could deliver a head-butt, sending me reeling.

With an animal howl, she lunged at me but her movements were becoming increasingly desperate and clumsy. She was bleeding out, but was too frenzied and enraged to notice she was dying. I sidestepped her swipes until she collapsed and with a shuddering breath went still.

Just take it from me

I'm as free as any daughter

I do what I like

Just what I like

And how I love it!

"Feelin' good about yourself asshole?"

I looked up to where Skid Mark stood atop a box car waving his bandaged stump at me.

"We still got ya outnumbered!" he ranted. "And pretty soon you're gonna have shrapnel and bullets solved so far up your ass, you'll be spittin' lead!"

I giggle inanely, "I've been...NAUGHTY!"

Skid Mark frowned until a flash and and a thunder crack sounded from deeper in the train yard. Then his jaw dropped in horror as a column of smoke rose from the direction of the armory. It's amazing what you can do with metal apple stems, some string and the handle of a sliding door. I cackle as three more red dots on my E.F.S. winked out, leaving only the shit-brown bastard in front of me.

"Oh, you think you're clever?" the raider spat. "You think you've won?"

"One little two little three little buffalo!" I sang. Dude, racist much?

"Yeah? Well I got news for you dumbass, you've gone and woke up Bessie!"

Bessie?

Suddenly a large dent jutted from the car behind me followed by an inequine bellow from within as another red dot appeared.

How the hell did I miss...

>Attention! E.F.S. Impaired_

>15% margin of error_

Useless-ass piece of junk!

I'm right here to stay

When I'm old and gray

I'll be right in my prime

Another dent, then another as the bellowing increased in volume. Finally thick fingers ripped through the corroded metal door and crumpled it like paper as a hulking brute stomped forth.

Living in the sunlight

Loving in the moonlight

Having a wonderful time!

A minotaur. A freaking minotaur. It was balanced on a pair of short legs that logically should not have been able to support its burly torso and long apish arms. It was armored from head to hoof with scraps of a train engine; boiler plating for a breastplate with belts of metal apples strapped across her chest, a cow catcher for a visor, smoke-stacks for arm guards. Oddly enough, it also wore pink ribbons on its stubby horns and a set of udders protruding from between its legs. In its paws it brandished a club as thick as a tree trunk, riddled with spiked and caked in old blood.

It regarded me with maddened bloodshot eyes as it snorted twin streams of steam though it's visor.

For once , I was struck speechless.

"I just peed a little..."

Okay, not entirely speechless.

Chuckling in what I'm sure he thought was a menacing fashion, Skid Mark leapt from boxcar to boxcar until he leapt onto Bessie's vast shoulders.

"Yeah boy! You're screwed now! Bessie here's an emissary of the Iron Khan himself, and by attacking us you've declared yourself his enemy. Go get him Bess! Turn him into a greasy stain on the ground!"

"Humph!" Bessie grunted, tossing her head and folding her arms like a sulky teenager.

"What?!" the raider leader demanded. "What do you mean 'no'?!"

The minotaur answered, "Mmmwrrrrrrrrrr!"

"Aw, c'mon baby, you know she didn't mean nothin'."

"Mmwrr?"

"Of course not! You know I like my girls to have more meat on 'em."

Bess turned her head to look at Skid Mark. "Mmrr?"

"Aw, Bess," said Skid Mark gently placing his remaining fore-hoof beneath the minotaur's chin. "You're my one and only."

"Maaaaaaaw!" I know I'm crazy, but I could've sworn I saw a glowing blush through the gaps of her cow-catcher visor.

"Tell ya what. You squish this loser, and we'll go somewhere nice, just you and me. What do you say?"

Bessie beat her chest and swung her club in the air enthusiastically roaring, "MMMRRRRAAAAAWRRRRRR!"

"That's my girl! Alright asshole, get ready for..."

It was then that he noticed that the space in front of him and his mare...cow...lady-friend....was conspicuously asshole-free.

"Dafuq did he go?!"

"Whoop-whoop-whoop-whoo!" I cried as I galloped between the aisles of freight cars.

"After him Bess!" Skid Mark commanded and the minotaur charged in pursuit. A metal apple bounced besides me and I flung myself away to avoid the resulting explosion, but couldn't entirely escape the blast. Shrapnel tore at my flesh as I was slammed against an ancient coal cart. I slumped to the dirt, trying in vain to shake off the resulting delirium as the earth shook in time to charging hoof beats. I rolled out of the way, narrowly evading being trampled by Bessie as she slammed her ribboned horns into the cart, causing it to tip and spill fossilized coal everywhere. I was going to need another healing potion when this was over. Too bad I blew up the armory.

Bessie staggered backwards, shacking her head and snorting soot from her nostrils.

"There he is!" shouted Skid Mark wildly waving his stump from his perch. "Get him!"

The minotaur bellowed and charged again brandishing her spiked club. I dodged as the heavy bludgeon slammed into the ground leaving a crater.

She'd only need to land one hit and I'd be finished. I scrambled away from another deadly swipe. My injuries were beginning to take their toll. I was becoming fatigued. Sooner or later, I was going to slip up, and Bessie would pound me into paste.

"Mmmm, paste!"

"Do you ever shut that Goddesses damned mouth?!" Skid Mark yelled in disgust, as his mount took another swing at me, be for pausing, panting for breath. "Shake it off Bess, he's still breathing!"

Okay, I have an idea.

"I see where you're going with this, but where are we gonna find a duck and a hose at this hour?"

...

I'm a disembodied voice, a delusion of your own fevered mind, and you actually managed to give me a migraine. Just shut up and pay attention.

Bessie charged again, swinging her club wildly. She occasionally punctuated her swipes with the odd lob of a metal apple. I gallop in a serpentine zigzag amidst the dust and debris, as the minotaur roars in frustration, harmonized with Skid Mark's obscenities. When the armored behemoth stopped for breath again, I had latched onto her torso in s full bodied embrace. I nuzzle her broad chest.

"Hmm," I seductively hum, nudging her udders with a hoof. "Got milk?"

With an enraged bellow, Bessie grabs hold of my leg and slams me into the ground like an offensive rag doll. Several times. Until I'm lying I'm an imprint furrowed into the ground by the impacts of my own body.

The minotaur looms over me, her massive frame blocking out the sun, as she raises her club to finish me off.

I chuckle.

"Just die already," groaned Skid Mark.

Beneath my mask, I grinned. "After you."

Then I uncurled my tail and showed them the pins I had removed from Bessie's grenades.

"That's All Folks!" I scramble out of my crater and bolted as fast as my hurt body would allow. Bessie and Skid Mark just stared dumbfounded as the explosives ticked away.

"Well, fuck," muttered the raider chieftain, just before both he and his monsterous mount were engulfed in a conflagration of dust and flame.

When the smoke cleared all that remained of Bessie were scattered bones, bloodied guts, and well done chunks of meat. Skid Mark was miraculously alive, having been propelled some distance away by the force of the explosion. Albeit he was missing his hind legs and his abdominal cavity was split open, letting his insides spill into the dirt, and he had suddenly come down with a nasty case of blood cough, but he was alive.

We'll have to fix that.

I approach, drawing a machete and dragging the blade along the ground. I stand over him and raise the weapon.

"What-" he wheezes through his choaking blood. "What are you?"

A psychopath.

A monster.

A demon birthed by the numerous hells provided by this Wasteland of ours.

That's what I should've said. What I actually say is, "I'm the prettiest unicorn in Intestine Meadow!"

I shove a blade through his throat and that was that. Nearby, I find a ring of keys sitting in a pile of Bessie, no doubt for the chains and cages of those mares and fillies I came across in the boxcar.

They were shiny so I picked them up.

Convinced there was nothing left for me to annihilate, I was about to go on my merry mad way when my E.F.S. pinged again, another red dot appearing directly behind me.

"Don' moo," commanded the voice of the vomit colored unicorn, whose horn I shattered earlier. Guess she recovered. And by the sound of her voice, she held a gun in her mouth in lieu of using her magic.

I might be able to evade her shot, her being unused to working firearms without magic, but I had no idea how many shots she had. She might just get lucky.

I examine my E.F.S., weigh my options, then turn around slowly to face her. Sure enough, she had a .22 revolver in her muzzle and a murderous gleam in her eye peering through the blood trickling from her forehead.

"Aye that'd don' moo!" She repeated.

I continue to stare at her.

"Yor ded muffer puffer," she grits through the handle of her weapon. "Weer da baffest of da baff. Yoo fink keeling uff macks eeny diff'rence? Weel got moar muffer puffers! Da Kaan'll sind moar weepins! Week own dis Waftland and yool be ded! Suck on-"

But she never finished her sentence as the mare she and her buddies were tormenting earlier crept up behind her and burried my axe into the back of the raider's skull. As she fell the captive mare kept atop her and proceeded to beat vomit with her bare hooves.

I watched, not with sadistic glee, or even clinical interest. No, I watched with only hollow detachment as this sorry, tortured mare, her body defiled, and her mind broken, took her vengeance.

When she was finished she collapsed into a weeping shuddering heap. The raider's face had been smashed to pulp, her muzzle was caved in, her eyes squashed to jelly, teeth scattered everywhere, her skull had cracked and her brains were spilling out into a gooey pink soup.

The mare's breath hitched and her crying subsided as I approached. She stared at me with fear, then forlorn resignation, and finally what might have been relief.

I hesitate, but only for a moment as I draw a machete and stood over her.

She didn't deserve what she got. Nopony did. That doesn't make her special though. Innocent. Not so innocent. "Deserve" isn't really a factor in the Wasteland. Ponies live miserable lives. Ponies die ignoble deaths. And sometimes in between, the Wasteland's cruelty becomes unbearable. So much so that they just want to end it. Maybe that's what'll happen to me someday. But for now circumstances brought me and this mare together in this place at this time. Tough break for you lady. You survive rape and torture at the hooves of these animals, come so close to escaping this hellhole only to run into me.

Wrong place.

Wrong time.

That's all.

No!

Ahem! Wrong place.

Wrong-

No! I won't permit this!

I tap my head with a forehoof.

"Shut up!" I growl. "Shut up!"

You will not harm her!

"Don't tell me what to do!" I scream hoarsely. "You're not the boss of me!"

The captive mare, for her part, couldn't decide between fear, confusion, and keen interest as I continued arguing with myself.

Give her the keys, let her free the rest of the captives, then leave them in peace!

"Rrrrraaaaarrrrgh!" I yank at my mane, hopping about on one hoof while spanking my flank and spinning. Finally I come to a stop before the bewildered mare shaking myself. I toss the keys to her hooves.

Now, tell her it's going to be alright. Tell her she and the others are strong. That together they can overcome what happened to them and build new lives.

"Doody! Doody!" I shout. "Everypony out of the pool!"

With a cry, the mare took the keys and dashed off. She was going in the general direction of the captives' boxcar so I guess she got the message.

I hefted my old axe and compared it to my new machetes. As much emotional attachment as I had to ol' Reliable, I had to say, I liked the way ponies bled when I stuck 'em with the Mauler Twins. So with a heavy heart I laid my old friend to rest. I approached the train tracks, chose a direction, and started walking.

Nothing special about where I was going. It was just a direction to go.

Probably should've grabbed some healing potions...that is, if any survived the explosion.

"But doctor, I am Ponyacchi!"

Fine, pretend all you like, but we all know you can hear me, isn't that right Terrance the Magic Flying Space Gerbil?

"Actually," said Terrance temerously. "I'm a hamster."

You're a hallucination so you're whatever I say you are.

"But are we sure you're even real?" pouted Terrance.

I find the best way to deal with life's great questions, is to completely ignore them. But we really saved those ponies back there didn't we?

I didn't answer, but that's fine. I know I can hear me now.

That makes us heroes doesn't it?

"Love and peace!" I shout.

"And doughnuts!" chimed an enthusiastic Terrance.

Okay, maybe "heroes" is too strong a word. I'm still crazy, you're still a blood-crazed moron, and you're still an imaginary flying green rat.

"Hamster."

Shut up.

"Well, you don't have to be a jerk about it."

Still, it did feel nice to actually help ponies for a change instead if chopping them up...although chopping ponies up was a strong factor in our brand of help.

"Gives me warm fuzzies all over!"

I'm just thinking maybe this is a sign. Time to turn over a new leaf you know? I mean we just proved we're capable of mercy and compassion, maybe there's a few other virtues buried underneath all the crazy and blood-lust and stupidity. Who knows? Maybe if we keep this up, we can make the Wasteland more bearable like that what's-her-face, the Stable Dweller.

"Red Eye?" Terrance supplied.

No, no the cute one.

"Scotch Tape!"

Oh forget it. Let's just keep moving before anything else stupid happens.

"The crucified butterfly is always staring! Always staring!"

You said it pal. Just turn on the radio. It's got to be better than listening to you two idiots.

"Ooh!" squeaked Terrance gleefully. "I do love me some Dazzlings!"

"GIRUGAMESH!"

Static squawked before tuning in on a soft, gentle sad song fluttering through the airwaves of the lonely Wasteland landscape.

Oh, crazy

For thinking that my love could hold you

I'm crazy for trying

And crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving you

____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Level Up! Lv. 2
New Perk: Axe to Grind. You now do +4 damage with axes, knives, and other bladed weapons!
Terrance the Magic Flying Space Gerbil/Hamster/Product of a Diseased Mind has joined your party...because why not?!

Disclaimer:
The preceding is a non-profit fan work
The Fallout Franchise is owned by Bethesda
My Little Pony is owned by Hasbro
The original Fallout Equestria was written by Kkat
All characters and songs belong to their respective creators
I own nothing.
Send money!
Uh, I mean, please support the official release

Chapter One: Life in Theory

"I've always believed that we have the power to control our futures."

Crystal Empire - Precious Stone Heights - Crystalline Arcanum Institute - thirty years prior to the Last Day

The vision shard bathed the darkened lecture hall in a soft glow as images from history played out within the projection shimmering before the podium. From King Sombra's rise to power, to the invasion of the Royal Sisters, to the Empire's disappearance and return. The sheen of her glasses shining in the gloom, Clear Shine's heart thudded in her chest, but, with conscious effort, she continued with her presentation.

"-and so the Crystal Heart was recovered, the Tyrant's shadow was at last lifted, and the Age of Subjugation came to an end in a wave of magic that rippled throughout the Empire." She focused her thoughts on the shard, and, with an audible click, the vision of the Crystal Heart hung suspended before the podium, radiating comfort and the promise of better days to come. "And we experience this same magic wave each year during the Crystal Faire reflecting our love and hope across the land. A tradition dating all the way back to the time of the first queen."

She paused for a moment, fidgeting with her que cards. She hadn't looked at them once throughout her speech but their presence gave her confidence to proceed to the crux of her speech.

Now or never, she thought to herself, focusing again.

"But how often do we think about just what that wave actually is?" With another click came an animation of the Crystal Heart absorbing energy represented by wavey lines and sparkles being generated by three cartoon ponies. "What most ponies don't know is that the Crystal Heart is actually a mystic conduit that absorbs the ambient thaumaturgic forces of the surrounding environment and the empathic fields naturally produced by the emotions of living beings, most notably ponies." Click. The scene changed to the Heart glowing brighter and brighter until it unleashed a burst of power that rippled across a map of Equestria. "And over the course of its annual cycle, that energy builds up until it's released in a single thaumaturgic burst." Click. An image of a city illuminated with thousands upon thousands of lights. "This energy, if harnessed, could, plausibly, provide power to a city the size of Manehattan for decades, centuries even."

Click. Headlines of major newspapers materialized.

EQUESTRIA COAL MINES RUN DRY

NO DEAL! ZEBRAS REJECT GEM TRADE REFORMS

TRAGEDY AT LITTLEHORN!

PEACE TALKS BREAK DOWN! WAR ON THE HORIZON!

"The runaway coal industry has resulted in an unprecedented energy crisis, not to mention the devastating impact on the environment. Our southern neighbors are at each other's throats, and it's only a matter of time before their war spills into our borders. Solutions are needed and they are needed now, which brings me to my proposal..." Click. The image of the Heart flickered and vanished to be replaced by a detailed three dimensional model of a bizzare device resembling a large capsul surrounded by six crystals connected by tubing to the central structure containing the Crystal Heart suspended over a cooling chamber. Scrawled notations and equations flowed from top to bottom as though it were raining numbers and figures within the projection. "This thaumaturgic reactor can harness the amplified magic of the Crystal Faire..."

"Thank you, Miss Shine," a curt voice cut in. "That will be quite enough."

Abruptly the vision shard flickered and died taking the projection with it and the glowstones illuminated the lecture hall eliciting a startled "eep!" from Clear as she dropped her cards and her glasses slid down her muzzle. The shard clattered unceremoniously to the floor, it's glow extinguished it returned to its dull iridescent color.

Clear Shine resisted the impulse to squat down and recover her fallen cards. Best preserve some shred of dignity. The Institute Board of Regents had already left their seats, muttering amongst themselves as they filed toward the exit. The term "crackpot" was used with some regularity.

Clear Shine knew that if she let them leave without saying a word, it was all over. She glanced at her cards. She had gone over her presentation ad nauseam last night and every night leading up to last night for the past month in anticipation for this day. There was nothing in her cards that would help this situation. Clear Shine sucked in a breath and adjusted her glasses. She was going to have to go off script.

"Esteemed Regents, please consider what your walking away from," the crystal pony implored plaintively. The Regents, in turn, regarded Clear Shine in stony silence and she held each of their gazes.

Okay, thought the crystal pony to herself. I've regained their attention. Now what? Oh sweet Cadence! This was easier when the room was dark and I couldn't see them. Now I can see them seeing me! Okay, don't panic! Relax Clear. We don't want a repeat of the Unseen-and-Untold-Show-and-Tell. I know! I'll try picturing them naked. Wait. They're already naked! Why did I think this would work?! Shale!

"And what, pray tell," inquired the curt voice that had cut off Clear Shine's presentation. "Are we walking away from?"

"Arch Chancellor Feldspar, with all due respect," the crystal mare spoke quickly. "This device could provide the world with a clean, efficient, energy source. Not to mention the impact it could have on magic and technology for years to come. And...and..."

Clear shrank beneath the whithering glare the Arch Chancellor of the Crystalline Arcanum Institute. All at once, her carefully considered and well-worded arguments died on her tongue.

Feldspar sighed and removed his spectacles. He was an elderly crystal stallion with a white opal coat, whose luster had faded with age, a receding smoky quartz mane, and a cutie mark of a scroll wrapped in a red ribbon. His hard, craggy features were set in a permanent frown, and at that moment, it was fixed squarely on the young mare at the podium. He had been Arch Chancellor of the Institute since before the reign of Sombra and had continued his tenure after the Empire's return. He was a conservative academic of the old school and had dim views of ideas he considered fanciful. And, of course, he was the one pony above all the Regents that Clear needed to persuade in order for her project to move forward.

"Miss Shine," the Arch Chancellor spoke, putting an extra emphasis on the word "miss" that rankled the crystal mare. Not a good start. "This Institute was built to uphold the ideals of higher learning and bettering ponykind through science and knowledge and has done so from its founding through the Age of Subjugation. Not only is what you propose dangerous, it boarders on blasphemy." Clear Shine's ears involuntarily flattened, though the older pony never raised his voice.

"I..." Clear wavered before finding her voice. "I respectfully disagree, Sir."

"Oh? My apologies then. I must have misheard you when you mentioned your intent to use the Empire's most powerful and sacred artifact as a glorified battery for your...passion project. Even drew us a little picture. The Marble Sculpture School of Fine Arts is just down the road. I'm sure they will be more amenable to your active imagination."

"I didn't just dream these finding up, Arch Chancellor," protested Clear Shine, trying to keep the indignant heat from her voice. "The blueprints I've shown you are the result of years of exhaustive study and observation of the Heart. All that's needed now is for the Board to appeal to the Crown for practical application in a controlled environment, and..."

"I shall spare you the burden of uncertainty, young lady," interrupted Feldspar. "The Board of Regents denies your proposal. The Crystal Heart is invaluable to the Empire's survival, and the ensured safety and happiness of its populace. Not for indulging a graduate student's flights of fancy. I shall inform the Crystal Guard to bar your access to the Atrium until further notice."

"You can't do that!" the crystal pony shrieked. "This project could help us finally join the modern world on equal footing, but you're all keeping us trapped in the past as sure as Sombra did!"

"Furthermore," Feldspar growled, his old eyes flashing dangerously at the mention of the Tyrant's name. "Were you not your mother's daughter, I would have your lab privileges revoked, your credentials suspended, and you dragged bodily before an inquiry to determine whether you are in fact fit for this Institute. Fortunately for your career in academia, my hooves are tied in that regard."

"B-but, but..."

"'Work hard, learn, and use your skills to better Equestria'," intoned the Arch Chancellor. "A worthy goal for any pony to pursue. You however seem content to waste your considerable intellect in pursuit of these fanciful notions. Your theories are the worst of popular tripe, your methods are highly questionable, and your findings are laughable at best, heretical at worst. In short, you, Clear Shine, are a poor scientist."

Stricken mute, Clear could only watch in stunned silence as Feldspar swept out of the lecture hall, the Regents following behind in short order, leaving her alone at the lectern. Hot tears formed at the edges of her vision as Clear Shine began to breathe heavily.

Huh, she thought absently to herself. Didn't throw up. Weird. Well, score one for the ol' win column... All at once, her stomach somersaulted as she felt her gorge rise. Oh, there we go.

Holding a hoof over her mouth, Clear dashed out of the lecture hall, threw open the double doors, narrowly avoided colliding with and subsequently barfing upon a yellow pegasus, who let out a startled squeak as the crystal pony careened past, before mercifully finding the restroom.

The ol' win column was to remain vacant it seemed.

-oOo-

Several erupting moments later, Clear washed the acid taste of sick from her mouth in the bathroom sink, and splashed cold water into her face. After toweling off, wiping the fog from her glasses' lenses, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn't tell if her light rose eyes were bloodshot from the sleepless nights spent in anticipation for this day or from the fresh tears of disappointment and anxious nausea from its ultimate result. A glistening sheen of nervous sweat covered her light emerald coat, her cutie mark, the image of a magnifying loupe emblazoned on her flank, glinting beneath the glowstone lights. She ran her hooves through her Capri blue mane - painstakingly arranged into a now disheveled Gibson Mare fashion - in frustration.

Years of research. Months of preparation. Hours of building up mental fortitude for this presentation. All of it down the proverbial drain because the Regents still wanted to pretend the crystal ponies haven't spent the last millennium in cursed chrono-stasis. The crystal mare calmly placed her frames on her nose. Then she let loose.

"Bucking fossils!" Clear Shine cried, her voice echoing off the tiles. "'Dedicated to the betterment of ponykind through science and knowledge' my left flank! Is it any wonder the Empire is still in the dark ages?! And all because those...those...clods are afraid of possibility!"

From behind her fluttered a whimper like a dove's coo, so soft it almost didn't register. Clear whirled around to come muzzle-to-muzzle with the yellow pegasus she had almost bowled over in her frantic haste to void the contents of her stomach. At least she would be muzzle-to-muzzle if the trembling mare weren't cowering on the bathroom floor, attempting to hide behind her hooves. All at once, Clear Shine's frustration with the Board, and her anger with the Arch Chancellor in particular, dissolved and were replaced by a deep sense of shame and an overwhelming desire to give this poor pony a comforting hug.

"Miss?" the crystal pony ventured tenatively, trying not to startle the pegasus any more than she already had. "Are you alright?" A large blue eye peered up at Clarity between buttercream hooves. "I'm sorry," came a whisper so imperceptible the crystal pony thought she might have imagined it.

"No, no," Clear said softy, attempting a smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anypony else was in here. Not that I make a habit of raging at the heavens in public restrooms, mind you. It's just been a rough day...week...month. Rough month."

Seemingly heartened by the crystal mare's assurance she had done nothing wrong, the pegasus mare straightened to a standing position, though there remained a somewhat cringing quality to her posture, as though she thought she would be attacked at a moment's notice. She also carried a pair of saddle bags emblazoned with the symbol of Equestria's Ministry of Peace, a pink butterfly super-imposed upon a scarlet cross. No doubt she was a medic in their employ. Now that she could see her properly, Clarity noticed that her large blue eyes had bags underneath them, a clear sign of physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. Her long flowing pink mane, styled In a way that left her bangs covering half of her face, providing yet another barrier between herself and rest of the world, had strands of premature grey in it that a less perceptive pony might have missed but over time might bloom into streaks of age. This pegasus wasn't just timid, she was overwroght.

"I'm sorry," repeated the pony a bit more audibly this time. Her voice was so soft it was as though she were physically incapable of speaking above a murmur.

Clear Shine's glasses once again slid down the bridge of her muzzle as her face heated. For all the pegasus' shyness, or perhaps because of it, she was a very attractive mare. Crystal sweet corn! She could've been a model!. Blushing, she waved a hoof dismissively. "R-really, it was my fault. I-I shouldn't vent my spleen in a public restroom."

The yellow pegasus flushed adorably at the other mare's colorful terminology, but maintained her composure.

"Oh no," her pink bangs swishing side to side as the pony shook her head. "I meant, I'm sorry that you're having such difficulty. When you came out of the lecture hall, you seemed so distraught."

"Upset stomach is all," the crystal pony shrugged. The yellow pegasus smiled gently, regarding Clear with her large eyes overflowing with compassion and, all at once, she felt the overwhelming urge to open up to her. Instead she changed the subject. "Besides you seem to be having a hard time yourself. Lots of sleepless nights eh?"

The pegasus brushed at a lock of her mane self-consciously. "Is it that bad?"

The crystal pony immediately kicked herself. Stop insulting the nice mare! "Oh no! I'm sorry! Most ponies likely don't notice. It's just my special talent." She turned aside to display her cutie mark. "Apparently I'm 'very perceptive' and can pick up on little details other ponies might miss. At least, that's what my parents said at my Cute-ceanera."

The medical mare nodded. "That sounds like it could come in handy."

Clear snorted. "Less so than you'd think. As it turns out, ponies aren't all that interested in the truth. And pointing it out all the time doesn't win you many friends."

"Is that why you were so upset?"

Curses, thought the crystal pony. Cornered again. Finally she hung her head and let out a defeated sigh. "You're from Equestria right?"

"Why yes," the pegasus smiled brightly. "Ponyville originally, but now I spend most of my time in Canterlot."

Canterlot, huh? Clarity mused. Odd, she doesn't seem nearly snooty enough to rub elbows with Equestria's elite. Maybe that's why she's so stressed. Big city life doesn't agree with her.. "Are you familiar with the Empire's history?" she inquired.

The other mare studied her hooves uncertainly. "Well, I know it was one of the most advanced civilizations in the world before it...um..."

"The word your searching for is 'disappeared'," the crystal pony supplied drily

The pegasus blushed, "Err, right."

"It's true, we were the leaders in science, the arts, and the arcane. But that was over a thousand years ago. When the Tyrant cursed us, he put the Empire in a sort of hazy limbo, and according to survivor accounts, they couldn't remember any of what they experienced. And while we were gone, the rest of the world moved on. New discoveries were made. Innovations of science, medicine, and magic have reshaped Equestria into something we couldn't even recognize anymore. Meanwhile the Empire is stagnating. Do you know most doctors here still insist on using medical ice-leeches for blood-born illnesses, even though the rest of the world uses transfusions?"

"Oh my!" The delicate little pegasus looked as though she might faint.

"Yeah," agreed Clear Shine bitterly. "We may rock the appearance of a peaceful utopia, what with the sparkling crystal spires and shiny clean floors, but the truth is, we're so backwards that the average crystal pony still considers tin foil and indoor plumbing big news!"

"That must be very frustrating."

"You have no idea," the crystal pony muttered. "The worst part is, this Institute, which is supposed to promote new discoveries and ideas, is among the the most scientifically reactionary groups in the Empire. It's as though they believe everything worth discovering was discovered a millennium ago. Small minded pedants sit on the Board of Regents while true researchers and thinkers are forced to run in place. That, or they get sent to Madame Carnelian's Home for Troubled Minds."

The buttercream pony raised an eyebrow. "You're joking."

"Poor Professor Tanzanite," Clear shook her head sadly. "Really thought he was on to something with his elevator-shoes idea, but he couldn't get them off the ground."

The pegasus shuffled her hooves uncomfortably.

"Anyway, my proposal for my own project was denied and that's why I'm shouting at the ceiling tiles like a madpony. I didn't even make it to the end, before that dusty old relic Feldspar butted in."

"This project sounded really important to you."

"It was going to be a game-changer."

"Would you like to show your presentation to me?"

Clear Shine blinked and studied the yellow pegasus. There was no mirth or malice in her smile. Her big, tired eyes held nothing but compassion and, perhaps, even a faint sparkle of interest. She was being genuine.

"Here? Now? I couldn't...I mean, I'm sure I've wasted enough of your time on my sob story."

"Actually, I was on my way to meet a few friends at the Crystal FairExpo," explained the gentle mare. "But they'll understand if I'm a bit late."

"I-I just don't," Clear floundered for words but kept getting lost in that kind gaze. Those eyes! the crystal pony screamed internally. They're like irresistible vortices of love and tolerance! I can't look away!

"Please?" the yellow pegasus entreated one last time and Clear Shine knew she was lost.

"Alright, let's begin with the Tyrant's Reign..."

Within minutes Clear Shine was breezing through all the bullet points of her speech. Her cards had been left on the floor of the lecture hall, but she didn't notice their absence as she explained the mechanics of the Heart Reactor while the mare listened with a polite smile nodding her head every paragraph or so.

"-thus, safely and cleanly powering the Empire and no doubt paving the way to a brighter tomorrow!"

She grinned at her singular audience expectantly. The pegasus mare blinked before clopping her hooves together in quiet applause.

"Yay!" she cheered softly.

"You liked it?" asked Clear. "Really?"

"Of course," the other pony replied.

"What did you like best?" demanded the scientist excitedly. "The part about using the coils to redirect the excess energy? Or-or the bit about utilizing the arcanum arrays to enable free-flowing power?"

The yellow mare's eyes darted about like a cornered mouse's before she breathed, "Um...both?"

After a beat, Clear Shine stated in a flat tone, "You didn't understand any of that did you?"

"Well, some of it, but most of it just went over my head." The pegasus appeared to droop like a wilting flower. "I'm sorry. I'm not a very technical pony."

"It's fine," the crystal pony smiled, trying to hide her annoyance. "I'm just glad to have somepony actually listen to my ramblings and not threaten my career."

"Happy to help," the buttercream pony returned the smile. "Everypony needs a sympathetic ear every once in a while."

"Anyway I should go," Clear Shine said, recovering her book bag and moving towards the bathroom door. "The Crystal Faire's about to begin and I promised my dad I'd meet him at his panel at the Expo. Besides, I wouldn't want to hold your friends up any longer."

She opened the door and paused before stepping through. She looked over her shoulder considering the kind pegasus, so overworked, so bone weary, and yet she took the time out of her busy day to listen to the problems of a total stranger.

"If you don't mind my asking," said Clear. "The Crystal Faire is in the center of town. The Institute is a bit of a detour if you're on your way to meet your friends there."

The medical pony giggled softly. "Actually I was hoping for some help in my own research in healing spells. I know which herbs can dull pain or which poultice can fight infection, but when it comes to truly grievous injuries, I need the help of a unicorn. Even then they're only able to help one patient at a time, and out in the field the best they can do are patch jobs before sending troops back into battle. We need stronger magic, and we have too few medical ponies. I was hoping somepony in the Institute could help me."

The crystal mare thought for a moment. "You might find something in the archives, but most of the spell books were destroyed during the Age of Subjugation. Besides, crystal magic works differently from Equestrian magic. I'm not sure how much help it would be." Clear Shine's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, I wish I could do more for you."

"Actually," smiled the yellow mare. "You may have been more help than you think."

"How so?"

"Your presentation," the pegasus explained. "What I found most interesting was how the Heart gathered the innate magic from every crystal pony in the Empire and released it in a single mystic wave. All that magic focused into a single spell."

Understanding dawned upon Clear. "You're thinking the same principle can be applied to unicorn magic?"

"Could it work?"

Clear Shine ran mental calculations. "Theoretically," she said at length. "At least according to Haycart's Principles of Prestidigitation, Clover the Clever's Thaumaturgic Convergence, and Starswirl the Bearded's Tome of Comprehension. There are speculations of spell casters working in tandem to augment the power of their magic. But what you're hoping to accomplish has never been put into practice before and would require untold power, beyond even what Starswirl dreamed up in his lesser known work, Sloshed Spells or Some Ramblings I Wrote Down on this Napkin I Found at the Pub. Hundreds, if not thousands, of unicorns would be required, focusing on a single spell. Not exactly practical in a combat situation, even if you could accomplish such a thing."

"No," sighed the buttercream pony. "I suppose not."

"Although," the scientist rubbed her chin in thought. "The arcanum crest arrays might help."

"You mentioned 'arrays' before," said the medical pony. "Just what are they?"

"In a laypony's terms, they're magic circles," explained Clear. "We mostly use them to imprint images on vision shards or synthesize glow stones but in a pinch, arcanum arrays can be used as focusing devices to amplify magic."

The yellow mare furrowed her brow as she processed this information. "So...it's like a magnifying lens for magic?"

Clear Shine hesitated. "You're on the right track. Here let me show you."

The crystal pony rummaged through her book bag and produced a paper and pen. Pen in mouth, she drew an intricate, stylized double spiral symbol bisected by a line of three circles, the center, larger than its fellows, resembling a staring eye, all encompassed within a larger circle. She then went to a sink, filled it with water and dropped her strange design into the fluid. Then she took one of the medic's hooves in her own. Their eyes met briefly and Clear's cheeks practically steamed. Stay on task, Clear Shine, she reminded herself as she swallowed nervously. "N-now place your hooves on either side of the sink like so, and think warm fluffy thoughts. Imagine you're floating through the air, think of the smell of grass after a summer morning shower, remember the feeling you get whenever the sun is hidden." The pink-maned mare raised a skeptical eyebrow but did as she was bidden, closing her eyes in concentration. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, before the medical mare's eyes, a soft white light flashed from the sink and the water steamed into the air and tightened and coalesced into a tiny, fluffy white cloud. The buttercream pony opened her eyes and saw the cloud bobbing merrily before her. Then she glanced at Clear Shine, smirking knowingly. Then back at the cloud.

She serenely took a breath through her nose and released it out her mouth, sending the cloud drifting lazily around the washroom.

"Hubba-zuh-WHAAAAAAA?!" the pegasus shrieked, falling backwards on her haunches in shock. She stared agape at the floating fluff ball and Clear had to stifle a giggle at her over the top response. Guess she can manage volumes above murmurs after all. As it turns out the quiet mare is quite the screamer. The crystal pony blinked in alarm and mentally face hoofed. Well, I just thought that.

"Did-did I do that?" the medical mare inquired tentatively, resuming her more subdued tone.

"We both did."

"But...how? I'm not a cloud technician. I had the worst marks in weather class back in the academy."

"Like I said," the scientist provided cheerfully. "Crystal magic works differently, but it's not mutually exclusive from unicorn magic. All ponies possess an innate magic; pegasi can stride the heavens and command the weather and earth ponies' connection to the...well...earth make them ideal farmers and stonemasons. But unicorns can manifest and control raw magical power through their horns which projects and controls their own innate magic. Crystal magic is tied to emotion rather than study and ability, which makes utilizing it for practical purposes...frustrating. That's where arcanum arrays come in. They're kind of an amplification charm. We Crystal ponies don't have much in the way of innate magic but we can give other ponies a mystical leg up. I drew the crest symbol for 'air', placed it in water for moisture and had you imprint your emotional stimuli for 'cloudy thoughts' into the crest while it was submerged, drawing on your natural affinity for the sky to create a cloud and viola! Out popped this little guy!"

By the time she had finished her speech, the tiny cloud had already dissolved. Clear Shine blinked and rubbed her foreleg sheepishly. "It's not very impressive, I know. I'm not much of a mage, and crystal magic isn't an exact science. You and I won't be calling down any tempests any time soon, but in the hooves of an experienced unicorn magic-user it'd be able to draw upon the moisture of the air around us to create a cold snap in the bathroom. And perhaps, if a framework of crests were spread out among your mages, you might just cast..."

"A megaspell?" offered the other mare, a hopeful smile spreading across her features.

Clear snorted in amusement. "Well, theoretically."

The pegasus' blue eyes welled up and she made a joyful squee noise as she fluttered a solid foot off the floor. "My friend knows more about magic than anypony I know! If anypony could make this work, it's her!" All at once, Clear Shine found herself enveloped in a yellow, feathery hug. "Thank you! Oh, thank you so much! This is going to save so many lives!"

The crystal pony flushed, "Only if it works. Like I said, this is all very, very theoretical." Clear protested weakly, desperately trying not to think of how warm and soft and beautiful mare pressing against her was. "You'd need the right symbols for the spell you're trying to cast and while you could conceivably achieve the desired result with dozens of unicorns as opposed to the thousands you would otherwise need, you'd still have to sync up their emotions with the correct stimuli in order to..."

"This is a huggy moment," whispered the happy mare as her gentle eyes took on an almost dangerous sheen. "Don't ruin it."

"Yes, ma'am," Clear immediately shut her trap. Evidently, this timid little pony has more steel in her than she lets on. Maybe she liked to get dominant every once in a while. Think clean thoughts, brain!

After several awkward moments, Clear, her glasses fogging, was released, and the pegasus scrubbed a hoof over her eyes drying her happy tears. "Thank you again. If there's anything you need, anything at all..."

"Ah-ah," interjected the blushing crystal pony with a raised hoof. "Everypony needs a sympathetic ear right?"

The medical pony waved goodbye as Clear Shine hastily exited the bathroom before she embarrassed herself further. The Mare of the Ministry of Peace stood still for several moments, processing the possibilities of what she had just learned until there came a rustling in her saddle bags. The clasp came undone and out popped a little white rabbit with a perpetually sour expression on his face. He hopped in front of his owner/servant waving a small crystal shard of dull iridescence before her eyes. The pegasus picked it up in her hoof and examined it before realization dawned upon her.

"Oh dear," said Fluttershy. "I forgot to return this to her."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Level up! Level 2
You've gained the Good Listener perk!
Your increased charisma enables you to convince Wastelanders to share information they might otherwise keep to themselves, but be warned, nosey ponies tend to lose a nose!
Achievement! Invocation of Good Intentions

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