Fallout: Lavender Wastelander

Spike knew he was supposed to like tunnels and caves since he was a dragon of all things, but something about the passages below the ruined house made him feel like it was… unnatural. Like he was always being watched.

Even with Pinkie Pie holding a lantern that would be more fitting to call a flood-light, it didn’t shine away the deep seated fear in him. His fear wasn’t helped by the fact that most of his scales had disappeared when coming to this world. Besides his hands, feet, wings, ears, and tail, his body was made of soft skin, white in color. Even with the combat armor over most of him, there was enough left exposed to the cool air to feel naked and defenseless.

He stopped for a moment, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on-end as he closely listened to the sounds of the tunnel. It was difficult to hear much past the water dripping from the stalactites. Each drop echoed like a whip-crack, joining the subtle draft of air to form a reverberating drone that bounced off the walls. It would be nearly impossible to hear anything shuffling beyond their lights.

Spike’s scaly, clawed hands clutched the stock and grip of his double-barreled shotgun even tighter as another gust of wind blew over him. It brought with it the smell of rotting meat and sulfurous bog water. It was as if something far, far larger than him was snoring, and its putrid breath and booming voice echoed through the cave.

The flashlight hose-clamped to the barrel of his shotgun illuminated the path ahead. While Pinkie’s lantern helped illuminate the area around them, Spike meticulously worked his light over every nook and cranny the lantern couldn’t reach. There was nothing but stone and the occasional man-made wall.

Still, he had to be cautious. Despite his constant vigil, there was no telling if, somehow, some of the mutant swamp folk had slipped past him or Pinkie Pie and into the caverns.

They passed long burned-out torches and bone totems, ignoring the branching path that led to a room full of coffins and bubbling swamp gas. Their destination lay deeper. Much deeper.

Snaking their way down into the depths of the earth, they walked farther and farther, until the narrow descending cavern abruptly widened as fast as it leveled off into a flat plane. They had reached the octagonal chamber. Like the passages above, the torches present during their last visit had all burned out, and the room was far too large for Pinkie’s light to fully cover. It was still powerful enough to catch the rusting cages full of skeletons hanging over a stagnant, bone-filled pool of water.

Spike’s breath shuddered in his throat as he slowly swept his weapon-mounted light over the room. It passed over the rotting corpses of the swamp folk, many of which he had killed himself. Eventually, he shined his light dead ahead. The thing hadn’t rotted away, even days after clearing the ritual site.

It splayed over the altar towards the back of the room. Spike could only describe it as if some dark power had manifested the concept of a train wreck and lay it out like the spread of a feast.

Flayed meat and raw organs lay arranged in the vague shape of a human… Spike hoped the meat on the altar was animal. Bile crept into his throat as that thought processed. Of course it wasn’t animal meat. The meat-mannequin was too well organized into a human shape to not have come from human sources. The head was missing, replaced with a curled up cloth doll with a knife shoved though it.

His eyes didn’t linger long on the second doll, but like a train wreck, the thing on the table was hard to look away from. The second doll was shoved into the abdomen of the grim arrangement, like the pile of flayed meat was pregnant.

Whatever dark religion was worshiped in the room, Spike wanted no part of it. He forced himself to look away from the travesty on the table. Past the altar was a simple stone crucible resembling a giant chalice.

From his and Pinkie’s last excursion into the tunnels, he knew the crucible was full of bloody skulls. Sitting atop the pile, leaned against the stone lip of the crucible, was a black book. The Krivbeknih.

Spike’s legs shook like saplings in a hurricane. He crossed the threshold into the chamber, the barrel of his shotgun quivering, and followed the stone path ringing the pool. Dozens of skulls lay just under the water, their open, skinless mouths trapped forever screaming. Forever drowning. Forever tormented.

“Marcella’s god be with you,” Spike muttered as he cautiously let go of the forend of his shotgun to pat the belt pouch holding Marcella’s Bible. He had taken it from her body after she had been murdered by Obidiah Blackhall’s mercenaries. Her final act had been to record a message on a holotape for him and Pinkie, giving them all her meager belongings to ensure the Kribeknih was destroyed.

For her murder, Spike had paid Obidiah another visit. He wouldn’t be missed, and Spike hadn’t missed.

Thankfully, the bottlecaps in Marcella’s safe and the loot from Obidiah’s home had been enough to afford mailing Marcella’s holotape—rewritten with their own message—to the Capital Wasteland.

Despite both of them swearing over the grave they had made for Marcella that the book would be destroyed, neither he nor Pinkie Pie had the nerve to grab the book. They both remembered Rarity’s time with a cursed grimoire. So, after mailing the holotape, they had taken turns guarding the ritual site as the other scavenged for food and supplies in between sleeping at the motel.

Spike lowered his shotgun’s barrel and faced Pinkie Pie, who wore a set of combat armor like his. Both of their suits had been scavenged from Marcella’s murderers. He tried to reassure himself with a smile to Pinkie Pie, whose face was green with sickness, before turning to the third, newest member of their party.

The gold coated unicorn mare with copper colored eyes looked sicker than Pinkie Pie.

“So,” Electrum Eagle said as Spike turned to her. She stopped to spit and gag before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her tan greatcoat. “About what I said earlier.”

<>~<>~<>

Twilight sat atop a boulder, frowning deeply as she stared at the Dunwich building atop a hill over a mile away. Even with a mile between her and the building, she could feel the darkness radiating from within.

The sight of the building alone would cut a foreboding enough picture to make her want to avoid going inside. Unnaturally dark gray ivy covered the cracked and broken concrete walls like veins draped over a skeleton. Many of the ivy vines plunged into the building itself, ingressing by way of the dozens of shattered window panes. The last rays of light from the setting sun bathed the entirety of the crumbling tower in hues of orange and red and concrete gray. The color of a gaping, festering wound.

To Twilight, it was like staring at the Castle of the Two Sisters for the first time again. Only this time, somewhere within, rather than the Elements of Harmony, was an ancient obelisk of pure evil that would destroy the black book.

Twilight spun atop the boulder to look down into their campsite. It lay within a sort of caldera or alcove formed between three large boulders, making the clearing within a rough triangle with an open gap formed between two of the boulders. Their two-person canvas tent was pitched opposite the entrance, the front flap facing the opening in the rocks so it could be easily watched.

Daniel sat near the tent atop his rucksack, with Twilight’s butting up against his. He stooped over a magic-powered hotplate while cooking with a mess-kit they had brought along with rations from Equestria. If not for the evil building nearby, it might have been a relaxing camping adventure.

But the evil building was close by. There would be no trip into it tonight; they had already agreed to set up camp, and sleeping at the Rockland relay station would have been a risky move. With Colonel Autumn declaring war against the more hardline members of the Enclave, there was no telling when or where SOCOM would strike. They were also down one member, as Rainbow Dash had already departed back for Raven Rock to protect Applejack. She couldn’t stay to protect them from people like Sergeant Dornan.

A second human getting their hands on a black book could not happen.

Pushing the thought aside, Twilight spread her wings and hopped off the boulder. She landed by Daniel with a wince as her bum leg took more of the landing than she’d intended.

“That place does not bode well,” she said, falling onto her rucksack next to him.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, staring into the pan with sunken eyes as if the pan contained the depths of an ocean. He was drop-dead tired as well. “Think we’ll actually get any sleep? I'm too tired to stay awake, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep well this close. You feel it too, right?”

Twilight’s shoulders slumped with the speed of dropped bowling balls. He was right, but…

“We have to try. I can’t push myself anymore,” Twilight said, stretching out her right leg while telekinetically removing her knee brace. Once her leg was free, she massaged the swollen joint with both hands, working her fingers to try and chase away the throbbing, radiating pain. Slogging through the mud and walking uphill was a killer combination even without an injury that still needed more time to heal.

Sleeping overnight wasn’t the ideal option, as it would put them even farther behind getting to Smith Casey’s Garage, but reality was never ideal.

Not only did they need the rest to recuperate and face whatever was inside the Dunwich building without being bogged down with exhaustion, but diving into a ruin that contained a dark magic obelisk in the middle of the night was about as appealing as covering herself in blood and running naked into a manticore den.

“That’s okay, I’m worn out as well,” Daniel said softly. He pushed the carrots around with a spork, staring at the goldening orange disks. “Gives us a little time to talk. Your friends weren’t too enthused about us.”

Twilight inhaled a breath before leaning her head on his shoulder. They had both taken their armor off, wearing only the Vault suits they had on underneath. It meant they could share warmth on the chilly night. She checked the time on her Pip-Boy. It was eight-twenty-one p.m., Monday, September 3rd, 2277.

“They’re just surprised,” Twilight said, tabbing over to the radio and browsing the channels. There were many, including a few she didn’t recognize from earlier. She turned the volume knob to almost silent. “Applejack was happy for us once the shock wore off. The rest of the girls will warm up to you, just like her.”

He smiled, kissing the top of her head as Twilight selected a new radio station at random.

“Thanks,” he said as Fluttershy’s voice played out the radio.

“—all Equestrians lost in this world and listening in on this frequency, please find the nearest above-ground settlement. The safest ones that we know of are the giant flat-topped ship called Rivet City, and the settlement with walls and buildings made out of airship parts named Megaton. Seek shelter there and remain as long as you can, and we will get you back home. Message repeats in three seconds… To all Equestrians lost—''

Twilight changed stations to Galaxy News Radio, coming into the middle section of ‘I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire’.

“No problem,” she said.

“So, did you catch Colonel Autumn name-dropping Project Purity?” Daniel asked, changing the subject.

“I did,” Twilight replied, wrapping her wing around him like a cloak. “Was it strange that he did?”

“Very,” Daniel said, pressing himself into her wing as he set the pan of carrots off to the side to cool. “Dad never talked to me about Project Purity. I only learned the name from Rarity when we first met her.” He grunted as his face twisted into a scowl. “It’s like everyone but me knows what my old man is up to.”

His father had left the Vault unexpectedly, and for a reason he was never told about. Just… abandoned. Twilight knew how lonely that felt.

Twilight slowly reached an arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to him with her wing and arm. He turned into her embrace, his body shaking.

“I just want to know why he didn’t trust me.” Daniel’s voice was as brittle as glass. He was fighting back tears.

“We’ll ask him together,” Twilight said. It felt as if a weight was pressing down on her shoulders. She had found or learned the locations of all her friends so quickly. Daniel, meanwhile, was still chasing clues that could lead to nowhere. It wasn’t fair to him that she could so easily find the rest of the girls, and he was left out of a reunion.

“I promise you,” Twilight started, “that when we finish getting rid of that evil book, that regardless of anything else, we’re finding your father.”

Daniel gently pulled away from her, wiped away a few stray tears from his eyes as he slowly inhaled, composing himself.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Daniel said. His voice was still shaky, but he didn’t sound at risk of suddenly bursting into tears. Not that Daniel crying would damage her opinion of him. It was healthy to show emotions. Stallions could cry.

“So, ever have any pets?” Twilight asked in an attempt to navigate away from the painful conversation as she levitated a carrot slice out of the pan. She checked her Pip-Boy radio again, contemplating what station to pick next. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Daniel balancing a scandalized look between her horn and the spork he had used to cook, before he too slowly levitated out a carrot slice with his silver-colored magic.

“Yes and no,” Daniel said, waving his hand back and forth. “Vault 101 was smaller than most other Vaults as far as I know. Dad told me that other Vaults in the Wasteland were bigger, but none were still occupied like Vault 101. Or at least, not occupied by anything friendly. The small size meant we didn’t have any room for pets, but when I was seven or around that age… I found a baby radroach that I named Raddington the Raddest.”

Twilight spit out her slice of carrot with a laugh.

“No way, a radroach?” Twilight asked, imagining a cockroach the size of a house cat just casually lounging on Daniel’s lap. The mental image quickly turned to making her skin crawl.

Ew. She had seen radroach meat for sale. They were that big.

“Yeah,” Daniel said with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head and telekinetically retrieving another carrot slice that he pressed to Twilight’s lips. She took the whole slice in her mouth and chewed. “I finally got a chance to bully Butch back when I chased him around with Raddington since he’s scared to death of radroaches.” Daniel sighed, shaking his head. “But he got the last laugh and a few good punches in when the Overseer had Officer Gomez confiscate my little friend.”

Twilight winced. Kids would be kids, but bullying wasn’t okay.

“Do you hate Butch?” Twilight asked after swallowing the carrot and retrieving a new slice.

“Not really,” Daniel said, but shook his head, as if he couldn’t agree with himself. “I mean, yes, but I can’t stay mad at him. He grew up with issues at home. No father and an alcoholic mother. But he was still a bully.” Regret was heavy in his voice. “Even though he was, I should have helped him when leaving the Vault.”

“What happened?” Twilight asked with a gasp.

“His mother was trapped in a room full of radroaches,” Daniel whispered, staring away from Twilight, his face red with shame as his ears pointed down. “I told him to save her himself, and chased after my father. I could hear her calling for help through the walls, but I was too focused on Dad. I’m not sure if Butch saved her or not, and it’s been on my mind since. After that, I promised myself I wouldn’t ignore someone in need. Like you and your friends.”

Twilight hugged Daniel tightly, but didn’t say anything, processing what Daniel had told her.

He had been put in a tough spot, between catching up with his father, or potentially saving someone’s life. He regretted his choice to leave someone to potentially die, but Butch could have rushed in to save his mother. But a baby radroach was enough to scare Butch.

Nobody was perfect.

Twilight jerked her head towards a flash of light and the pop of magic, her eyes going wide as she reached for her pistol at who she saw in the middle of their camp.

Dressed in a long tan overcoat was a gold-coated unicorn mare with copper colored eyes and silver hair. The only reason Twilight kept her pistol holstered was the two humans with her in combat armor.

There was a woman with frizzy pink hair and blue eyes and a bright, ecstatic smile, while the man had green hair, green eyes with draconic slits, a purple tail and wings, and large green draconic ears.

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” Electrum Eagle said before teleporting away.

Twilight blinked in confusion, so did Spike as he looked at where Electrum once stood.

“What was that about? You two have an argument or something?” Spike asked before he shook his head and held up a heavy-looking briefcase similar in design to Daniel’s. “She told us you sent her to pick us up. She even brought us a case to put the book in.”

Twilight had so many questions. All forgotten as she nearly tackled Spike in a hug.

<>~<>~<>

“—so that’s what we’ve been up to,” Twilight finished her short explanation after the excitement of seeing Pinkie Pie and Spike again had settled. She, Pinkie Pie, Spike, and Daniel all rested around a magic-powered lantern just outside the tent. “What about you?”

“That’s a long story,” Spike said, who had a double-barreled shotgun cradled in his lap. In the light, she could make out ‘Sombra’s Bane’ scratched onto the right barrel. He sounded strange as a human. His voice was far deeper and mature. He had passed the age of pony or human puberty. “The shortest story I can give you is that Pont Lookout is fucked up.”

Twilight jerked like she had been shot. Twilight wondered if she sounded as strange to everyone else when she cursed.

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, pointing to where a large portion of her mane on the right side of her head had been shaved away, revealing a line of stitch-scars. “Someone cut out a piece of my brain when a giant plant sprayed me with psychedelic spores. Do you know how many headaches this is going to cause me?”

“What the fuck!?” Twilight exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. That was insane. Who would do something like that? “Someone lobotomized you? How much does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t,” Pinkie said calmly. She patted her hand on a large contraption made from a small wood chipper, a vacuum cleaner, and a fire hose nozzle. “What I meant by headaches is that I’m going to have to get a lot of checkups to keep my ACE qualification, and that’s a pain in the patootie without having actual brain damage.” She tapped the scarred part of her head with two fingers. “I mean, everyone seems to think I’m a psychopath because of my one bad mental health day.”

Twilight winced. Her ‘party of one’ hadn’t been the most shining example of stability, but Pinkie Pie really wasn’t crazy. She kept passing her ACE requalification, after all.

“What’s ACE?” Daniel asked.

“Alcohol, Cannons, and Explosives,” Pinkie Pie said, waving a hand dismissively. “I buy enough liquor for adult parties, cannon powder, and fireworks that ACE is up my tail with a microscope.” She rolled her eyes and flailed an arm. “Ugh, I mean, the amount of paperwork I have to do, sheesh, don’t get me started.” She tapped the contraption by her again before she snapped her attention to Twilight. “By the way, you wouldn’t happen to have a few copies of form 3-11-CC, would you? I need to register my party cannon mark II and some other homemade destructive devices for ACE inspection. Would you like the tax-stamps paid for in pre-war money, bottlecaps, or bits? If it’s that last one we’re going to have to work something out, cause all I got are bills and caps.”

“Is she always like this?” Daniel muttered to Twilight.

Twilight didn’t answer as Pinkie Pie reached into what remained of her mane and pulled out a large stack of pre-war paper money, along with a cloth bag that jingled with caps.

Twilight didn’t know which was more concerning. The fact that Pinkie Pie casually dismissed a head wound, or knew the exact paperwork to file for a destructive weapon.

“How do you know what forms to file, exactly?” Twilight cautiously asked.

Pinkie Pie giggled.

“You see, Twilight, when you grow up on a rock farm, you grow up with a lot of boredom, a lot of scrap metal and tools lying around, and a lot of explosives meant for the rocks that Maud can’t kick through.”

Twilight facepalmed.

“Oh, by the way, Twilight, congratulations on the marriage!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Mazel Tov and here’s your cake.”

“How’d you—?” Twilight asked, lowering her hand just in time for Pinkie Pie to shove a Fancy Lad snack cake against her face, crumbs and cherry filling smearing all over her muzzle.

“Pinkieeeeee!” Twilight exclaimed, laughing and spreading her wings before launching herself at one of her best friends with playfully-malicious intent.