Fallout: Equestria - Blood and Flowers

by NightLore

Rating: mature
Tags: Tragedy, Gore, Crossover, Dark, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Adventure
Length: 10285

Eight year's ago, one stallion believed that he had been caught up in a cliche romance, but that's before he's plunged into a reluctantly adventurous life of blood and flowers.

Violet is a mare who has lived under slavery her entire life. Bloodshot was a reckless newcomer to the Equestrian Wasteland who only wanted to help. It started out as your cliche, cheesy romance story: Guy saves the girl, guys gets the girl, supposed-to-be-happily-ever-after. Right?

And then, our dear characters are plunged into the depths of hell.

A few mistakes and five years of being separated from the one he loves sends Bloodshot across the Equestrian Wastelands, (un)prepared to save the world from defected artificial alicorns with an amnesia-ridden Vi, one overprotective Lilac and a monochrome, monotone Rose.

Oh, and don't forget the pegasus ghoul with a past as painful and old as the Wasteland itself.

So, some advice, rookie:

1) Here, there is no such thing as law.

2) Anything and everything will probably try to kill you.

3) Pay attention to your PipBuck. It's your best chance at survival.

That is, if you want to live.

Published 2016-09-05 01:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-09-05 01:50:01 UTC

Volume One - Prologue

Prologue…

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria…

… The ideology of friendship and magic succumbed to a twisted world of baelfire and darkness. Violence raged throughout the land, severing the peace. Beyond the borders of the Equestria and the Crystal Empire lay the Zebra Nation, a mysterious country that waged war upon their harmonious neighbors, all for the sake of a monopoly on trade.

Once a safe haven to all creatures, Equestria was forced into an industrial revolution. Stable-Tec, founded by the trio formerly known as the Cutie Mark Crusaders, began to build long lasting bunkers. Although these Stables, as they were appropriately named, were originally for the sake of experiments, they were also built in order to survive a possible apocalypse.

The Princess of the Night took up the throne. As the new monarch, Luna managed to form a proper, war-time government. The six ministries were formed, each led by a bearer of an Element of Harmony -- the Ministry of Arcane Science (also known as the Ministry of Magic), the Ministry of Image, the Ministry of Morale, the Ministry of Peace, the Ministry of Wartime Technology (still in operation as the Steel Rangers) and last, but not least, the mysterious Ministry of Awesome.

While these bureaucratic institutions were meant to save the world, they ended up contributing to its end. ‘How?’ you may ask. The answer is simple -- megaspells.

The Ministry of Peace and the Ministry of Arcane Sciences worked together to create the infamous megaspell, an amplifier of magic. And so, the door to hell was opened with good intentions. While the megaspells were created to heal those on the battlefield, the Zebra nation took the opportunity and reverse-engineered the healing device into a weaponized, destructive bomb. Within a few hours, Equestria fell to deadly disaster.

The first city to be hit by a Baelfire missile was Cloudsdayle, and the target was almost immediately vaporized, thus marking the moment when the pegasi abandoned Equestria and closed up the cloud layer. The following areas to be bombarded by the amplified necromancy were as the following: Splendid Valley, Manehatten, Canterlot (which had actually been hit by the poisonous Pink Cloud -- not a Baelfire missile) and Fillydelphia. Although the Last Day concluded the decades-long Great War, the survivors often fell to greed and wrath, many going insane. What was left of Equestria simply became the Equestrian Wasteland. This was not peace. This was just as terrible as war.

After all, war never truly ends. And above all, war…

War never changes.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon to the Fallout: Equestria universe, created by kkat. Many lines and quotes within this fanfiction will reference lines from the original Fallout: Equestria story -- this is intentional -- and meant to act as a tribute/reference to the author.

Please do not consider this as plagiarism.

Chapter One: Welcome, My Dear

CHAPTER ONE

“Mom… Mom?”

A dark lavender filly sat next to the limp body of a peach mare. Even though the elder mare, Lavender Melody, was still alive, her breaths were quick and shallow. She was extremely exhausted, having been walking miles and miles over the waste of Equestria and its ruins.

Old. Lavender was getting old, and the Slavers were getting tired of her. Her once lovely beauty was starting to fade, and what kept her alive - her melodious voice that entertained Slavers - was beginning to become rough. Like most things, she wasn't meant to last.

While Lavender had luckily avoided the leftover radiation of the baelfire missiles, there were other dangers within the wild. While most had expected the Last Day to end the world, evolved animals, deadly mutations and sadistic ponies were the main attraction of this bloody chapter in history. The official war with the Zebras had ended, and yet, that didn't mean the chaos had stopped. After all, war never changes.

So here she was, lying on her probable death bed, which was really a cold, cement floor, her fifteen-year-old daughter at her side.

“Shh, it's going to be okay. Shh,” Lavender whispered. Salty tears flowed down the younger pony’s face.

“Mom, it's not okay!” Violet grasped her mother’s right front hoof. “Please… Please don't leave me…”

“My dear Vi...”

A gravelly, rough voice interrupted the moment between mother and daughter. “Ay, cut the cheesy crap, will ya? Want yer damn tongue cut out?” The Slaver who had been watching over the ‘merchandise' gave off a sickeningly sweet smile.

“And damage the goods? Our speciality is singing for you, is it not?” Lavender retorted, rather brave, or foolish, for the position she was in. “Isn't that what your buyer wants?”

The smile left the Slaver’s muzzle. “Shut yer fucking mouth.”

“Mom -” Violet began.

“But you're scared of your buyer,” Lavender continued. Her purple and pink hair, which was starting to become grey, hung over her face. “And I'm dying. Better not harm my daughter.” The mare coughed up a bit of blood after the threat.

The pony glared and called over a fellow Slaver before walking up to the mare and shoving Violet aside. “Don't test me, you piece of shit!” He shouted and kicked the mare, over and over. “Doesn't mean I can't bring any harm to ya! One slave is good enough! Our buyer just wants the kid!”

"Stop it! Stop!” Violet pleaded, but her cries landed on deaf ears as she was pinned down by the other pony, an even larger and more muscular stallion. The young mare wrinkled her nose in disgust and grit her teeth as the Slaver above her grazed his dark muzzle against her dark purple, silver and lilac mane. She turned her head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mother, but the coughing and yells of Lavender ceased.

“Your mum ain't going to protect you no more, girly,” the Slaver on top of her smirked.

“Isn't she a bit young for ya, Crimson? Kid ain't even got a cutie mark.” The Slaver who had beaten Lavender walked up beside Crimson.

“But a mighty pretty one, for sure. I'm sure our buyer won't mind if we play with their merchandise, no?”

Violet shook her head and yelped as Crimson nipped her ear. “Get off of me! You killed her!”

While Violet was a unicorn, along with her mother, both of them had a certain collar placed on their horns that stopped them from using magic. She had been lucky until this point - never violated by the sickening, sadistic ponies, but that luck would run out. All she could do was scream for help, albeit the little to no chance of a saviour. Lavender had always said to never let anypony do this to her. She should give up her precious gift to the person she loved - not some forceful, cruel Slaver.

“Shut the fuck up or I'll beat ya just like your dear old mum,” Crimson said coldly as he stuffed a wad of cloth in her mouth, paying no mind to what had just crept up behind him and killed his colleague. For the most part, Violets’ eyes were shut, but what she did hear was a loud gunshot, before the Slaver’s body fell on her still-small frame. She opened her eyes to find the stallion with a large amount of blood trickling down his forehead before shoving the corpse off with all her might. Spitting out the makeshift gag, she looked up to find a dull maroon, male earth pony, clad in leather armour, who was rummaging through the dead Slaver’s supplies. His mane was blood red, streaks of orange and gold highlighting it. His build was a little larger than average, but he wasn't as muscular as the stallion whom he had just shot in the head. The mark on his right flank showed the silhouette of a pistol, and his left front leg was cuffed by a metallic device.

Was this a friendly being? The stallion had, after all, killed the Slavers, but why? Never had Violet experienced kindness from one other than her mother. Was he a raider? No. He would most likely be in a group. Was he a merchant? Improbable. He would have had a guard and an animal for transport. Deep in thought, Violet never bothered to realize that the strange pony was staring right at her.

“Eh, you okay there?”

Violet snapped to attention. “Ah, y-yes! Thank you… erm…”

The stallion eyed her curiously. “Caliber. Bloodshot Caliber.” A silent pause made the situation even more awkward for the two. Bloodshot coughed, as if to wake her from some trance. “And you are?”

“Oh! Er, Violet!” Her cheerful demeanor faded back to a solemn one. “Violet Lace, sir,” she answered softly, glancing back to where her mother’s body lay, but she quickly looked back to the pony before her. “Why'd you help me? Those Slavers… They could have easily killed you.”

Bloodshot scoffed and took out a small pocket knife. “Easily killed me? I'm eighteen, not some kid. Do I really look that scrawny?”

Violet took note of the many guns and other weapons stashed in the stallion’s belt and gulped subtly. “No! Not at all! It's just, I mean -”

Bloodshot noticed her fearful look and followed her gaze to his knife. “I'm not going to hurt you, alright?”

He said, trying to sound gentle as he slowly approached the mare. His statement wasn't the thing that kept her frozen - it was fear. She closed her eyes, waiting for something bad to happen. But instead, the tough leather cuffs around her hooves, which had bound her to a nearby tree, fell to the ground.

“It wouldn't kill you to trust others at least once in awhile. We aren't all crazy, you know,” Bloodshot sighed. “Then again, I have no idea how you grew u - aaaah!”

Despite being only three-fourth of Bloodshot’s size, Violet engulfed the stallion in a large hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But,” she let go, “I heard the Slavers say that our, er, ‘buyer,’ was dangerous. You… You shouldn’t have set me free.”

“About that…” Bloodshot paused and ruffled his mane. “I’m your ‘buyer.’”

Violet’s eyes widened. “B-but -”

“Don’t get me wrong! I did buy you and.. well.. your mother, but my plan was to set the both of you two free. I… I’m sorry about your mom.” He cast a stray glance at Lavender’s still figure. “I told them not to hurt you two.”

“... It wasn’t your fault.”

Another moment of silence passed between the two before Bloodshot broke the quiet. “Shit, the sky's getting darker. We should get to New Appleloosa.”

“New… Appleloosa?”

“Yeah. It’s a settlement not too far from here - about an hour or so. I have my own place there. You can stay with me until you find your own thing to do, heh.”

Violet stared at the ground. “Does… Does this make us friends, then?” Bloodshot smiled.

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

** *** * *** **

On the way to New Appleloosa were a few Raider hideouts. The pair were lucky to have avoided them, as the stench of rotten flesh was obvious enough to evade. Of what Bloodshot had seen from past experiences, he didn't want Violet to know the horrors after all that she'd been through.

He shook the memories of blood-painted walls, streamers of intestines and chunks of red flesh, left to rot in open air, from his mind. In Stable 2, he had been taught that Equestria had thrived off of friendship and harmony before the Great War against the Zebra Nation. The fallout of the Last Day wasn't the only thing to kill. The absence of resources and order drove ponies and other creatures to succumb to the worst of sins. The once powerful empire of Equestria was now an empty nightmare that the creator of Stable-Tec had somehow foreseen, years before the megaspells forced the world into a never ending cycle of violence. Neighbors became enemies to one another, breaking apart the peace, and both sides took up the goal of not only defence - but conquest. Equestria had plunged into the grasp of baelfire and dark magic, the results lasting for hundreds of years beyond its beginning. When it came to survival, the choices of good and evil didn't matter. For most situations in this bleak world, it was kill or be killed.

May the souls of Celestia and Luna have mercy upon them all.

Compared to the rest of the Wasteland, New Appleloosa was thriving with ponies. The old Appleloosa, the pre-war settlement, had been converted into Slaver territory, Violet learned. Unlike the ruins of old Appleloosa and Fillydelphia, the residents weren’t bent on bringing harm and misfortune to newcomers. In fact, quite a few of the ponies, ghouls and whoever-was-there had greeted both Violet and Bloodshot with a hearty smile and/or wave. Maybe they were well off enough here to escape, or at least hold off, the darker side of themselves.

Other than still-standing, antique buildings, the town was built from the rusted tin train cars and old wood salvaged from the pre-war ruins of an old train station. A tall border of firm metal train parts and an organized group of guards surrounded the settlement, protecting the residents from a combination of natural, or mutated, dangers and hostile outsiders. A single, fortified fate marked the town’s main (and only) entrance. New Appleloosa was a well-known trading center, proven by a few merchants who had their merchandise laid out before them. Surprisingly, a few train cars and engines will still in proper use - as they were to transport merchandise to wherever-the-rails-led. The sun, which was still thought to be controlled by the spirit of the Goddess Celestia, hung low in the sky, and the Wasteland was tinted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange and red. Had this lovely sunset taken place two centuries ago, many would have appreciated its beautiful colours, but instead, for the residents of the Equestrian Wasteland, it marked another night of possible terrors and the repeat of a single routine.

Violet tugged on Bloodshot’s jacket. “Er, could you, please, walk a little faster…?” Her voice was slightly unsteady, and her eyes were shining with unease.

“We’re safe in New Appleloosa, and you’re with me. There’s not need to be scared.” Bloodshot smiled, hoping to calm down the nervous mare.

Violet looked off to the side and bit her lower lip, knowing that she’d have to explain her nervousness sooner or later, but instead, another thought somehow ended up in her mind:

A mare and a stallion, not related by any means, staying in the same house together. For Celestia’s sake, they had a four year gap! That’s enough to start a few rumours! How many others had he saved? How many mares had he saved and brought home?!

Luna, that’s a four year gap!!!

“Hey, Violet. Violet! Shit.. Snap out of it!” The marron stallion shook the mare gently as if waking her from a trance.

“Y-yes?!” Violet accidently walked into a metal wall before stumbling backwards and shaking her head violently. “I’m so sorry! I space out a lot…”

Bloodshot stared at her and sighed in both worry and disappointment. How had she not been killed by monsters with this kind of attention span? “Come on, we’re here.”

Violet moved her gaze from her companion to the metal wall before her. Actually - no - it wasn’t just a metal wall. It was an old train car, similar to the others in most aspects, which had been converted into living quarters. As Bloodshot opened the door, stale air exited the single-room home. From the state of the air, Violet concluded that Bloodshot must travel a lot, never staying in New Appleloosa for too long.

Two rusted stools sat in front of a cold, metal table. A couch, worn down over the years, lay below the house’s only window. A single bed was tucked away in the corner of the room, a large, wooden chest at its foot. Other than the main furniture and a built-in wooden shelf on the far wall were scattered papers, books and other oddities. While having one’s own home was already a luxury, there was no bathroom. Plumbing was expensive, so most ponies used the public restrooms.

Bloodshot put down all the belongings he was carrying and rubbed his tired eyes with one hoof. “You can take the couch. It’s actually a lot softer than the damn bed,” he offered before lying down on the mattress, his back to his guest.

Violet looked at the couch for a moment before lying down on it. She had never felt anything so soft before. Most of the time, she had lay down on cement floors or plain dirt. Slaves were obviously unable to afford any such luxury. How many bottle caps did this stallion have?

Despite having more comfort on this couch than she ever thought possible, Violet couldn’t sleep. She merely watched as the light from the single window dim for at least half an hour. So much had happened in one day: Her mother had died, she had made an ally and she was safe. None of this was believable to her, but the load of memories wasn’t what kept her awake.

“Hey… Bloodshot?” She gulped subtly. “Are you awake..?” Violet whispered. A moment of silence followed. Violet sighed and was about to close her eyes when -

“Yeah. I’m awake.” Bloodshot turned to face Violet. “Can’t sleep?”

“Mmhmm…” The mare’s lilac eyes scanned the room. “Do… Do you have a candle?”

“Yes. Why?” Bloodshot gave Violet a questioning look.

She paused. “I’m scared of the dark.” Violet expected him to scoff or roll his eyes. After all, being scared of the dark was a silly thing. She wasn’t a child anymore, and besides, she wasn’t being held captive. Reasonably, in the moment, she had nothing to fear.

But instead, Bloodshot replied with a plain, “Oh.” He got up and rummage through the wooden shelf until he found a lighter and candlestick.

Within a few seconds, a small, but fairly bright, flame engulfed the candle’s wick. Bloodshot set the light on the rusted table, clearing the metal surface of everything even remotely flammable. Violet smiled at the source of light, taking in what little warmth it provided in the cramped space.

“Thanks,” she mumbled softly.

Bloodshot gave her a sleepy smile before going back to the couch. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll get that magic blocker off. Better sleep soon. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And Violet went to sleep with a flame of her own growing deep within her heart, still watching the beautiful flame dance before her. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, she would finally receive sweet dreams.

Author's Note

Oh, and this story is also published on wattpad, btw, under the username I_Am_The_Raven.

Chapter Two: Birthday Eve Kisses

CHAPTER TWO

The two stayed together, at first only temporarily, but the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. While everyday was almost always a repeat of the last, the two did what they could to pass the time. What was originally friendship became something different, and Violet couldn’t help but look into Bloodshots’ eyes and think, ‘What if we were more than ‘just?’’ But then again, how silly it would be. Nobody really had a happily ever after in a world like this. Besides, cliches never happen in real life.

So Violet stayed quiet, her mouth shut from anything even remotely romantic, and the words that came out of her mouth were as platonic as she could make them; however, she’ll admit, a few hints would slip past her lips every now and then, but she was so focused on what she said that she never noticed how Bloodshot’s attitude towards her changed ever so slightly - accompanied by blushing, more stuttering and the occasional protective stance.

But, secrets can never stay secrets.

Bloodshot learned that Violet played piano. She had learned as a child from her mother, and even surpassed Lavender; however, she was better in piano than singing. The reason the two were so valuable to the Slavers were their combined musical talent, so they had never been separated. Bloodshot played the guitar, an instrument he had learned to play in the confines of Stable 2.

It had been three years since the pair had met. It was the eve of Violet’s eighteenth birthday, and she had gone from pretty filly to an eye-catching, extraordinarily beautiful mare (just like her mother), despite still being a bit small in size and still without her cutie mark (though this was no problem as most ponies were accepting of blank flanks these days). Bloodshot, in turn, was now twenty two, still looking younger than he really was and quite the heart-stealer, albeit not even trying and simply being polite.

Bloodshot wandered home, lugging a large bag of bottle caps, food and salvaged items that could be sold with him. As he entered the house, the soft voice of Violet piped up from behind a piano. “Hey, Bloodshot!”

Yes, the two had a working piano. Within the first week she had stayed, one of New Appleloosa’s resident nurses, a mint green, pegasus mare by the name of Lilac Blossom, had donated the unused piano to Violet. No one else in the town knew how to play piano, and because of such, Violet and Bloodshot often had guests who would come to listen to music. Even better was that, sometimes, they would be paid.

Bloodshot waved to Violet and set down his saddle and bags. Violet jumped down from the piano seat and helped to sort through the findings: 38 bottle caps, a few scraps of metal, a few pre-war bits, 3 boxes of ammo, 2 books, a few robotic parts, a jacket, some (artificial) leather armour, a single set of horseshoes, a teddy bear and a vintage dress.

“The dress is for you - got it cheap from a merchant. If you want, you can also keep the bear,” Bloodshot shrugged.

“Thanks,” Violet smiled, examining the old piece of clothing. It was a dark blue, almost black, with an off-white collar. The dress was a bit large for Violet, but Bloodshot claimed that she’d grow into it eventually. Levitating the two items, she placed them on the lowest shelf.

Bloodshot stored away the armour, the bottle caps and the bullets but kept the other items on the table. He was hoping to sell them the following morning while on his daily travels.

“Oh, and I almost forgot...” Bloodshot started, rummaging through the large bag. He pulled out six light brown seeds and showed them to Violet. “Happy early birthday! I found these in an abandoned building and brought them to Lilac earlier, since she knows a lot about plants and whatnot.”

Violet peered down at the tiny seeds. “What are they?”

“Flowers,” Bloodshot answered. “They’re rare these days, and coincidental enough, they’re called Violets.” He carefully passed the seeds to Violet.

Violet stayed silent for a moment. “Um… What are flowers?”

“Oh, right… You’ve never seen a flower…” Bloodshot scratched the back of his head. “You see, before the war, Equestria wasn’t a wasteland. It had plants.”

“Like trees and bushes?”

Bloodshot nodded. “But flowers are special. They come in all different colours and sizes, and they’re really beautiful. These flowers, Violets, are usually blue and purple.”

Violet wrinkled her muzzle in confusion. “How do they grow?”

“Here,” Bloodshot offered, taking a medium-sized wooden bowl and placing the seeds inside of it before giving the bowl to Violet. “You need to cover them with dirt and give them water every once in awhile.”

“How often do I give it water, and how long will it take to grow?”

“Every other day would be good. Not too much, but not too little. The plants takes only about a week to appear, and, the flowers bloom in about three months.”

Violet slightly tilted her head to the side. “Mmkay.”

** *** * *** **

Within the span of thirty minutes, the seeds were under the right conditions to germinate. Violet was hoping to see the blossoms soon, as she had never seen a flower. For five minutes, she simply sat in front of the bowl, waiting for something to happen, until a chuckling Bloodshot said that if she wanted to wait for a plant to show, she would be sitting in one spot for a week or more.

“Thank you,” Violet muttered a little while after the waiting incident.

Bloodshot, who had already lit a candle for the night, was counting their bottle caps. He turned his head to face her. “Huh? For what?”

Violet looked up at him. “You know, for my birthday gifts. The bear, the dress…” She glanced at the wooden bowl. “The Violets.”

“Oh, no problem.” Bloodshot did his signature warm, kind smile.

Even with the simple response, Violet looked a bit sad. She looked down at the floor. “I’ve lived with you for three years, and all I ever see in you is kindness. I can barely contribute to our lives here, and you’re completely fine with it. Today is my birthday - that I know, but even when there’s no special occasion, you give me things I don’t deserve, and you never ask for anything in return. You kill others, but only to protect those who are innocent. You steal, but only to give those in need what you have taken. This world is so bleak, but somehow, just somehow, you still manage to give me the kindest, most genuine smile that I’ve ever seen.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m asking is ‘How? How do you smile so easily?’”

Violet looked back up to see Bloodshot, frozen still and eyes slightly widened. He relaxed and contemplated his answer for a few seconds. “Because, I was given a life, and I plan to do something with it.”

Violet’s eyes softened, and she laughed softly. “You make it seem so simple.” She stood up, blushing slightly. She believed that it was time to give someone her most special gift - a gift her mother told her to reserve for the one she loved. “It’s my birthday, but for once, let me give you a present.”

A kiss.

It was all too quick. Neither of them could understand what had just happened. It was rough, a bit messy, as Violet had never done such a thing before. Bloodshot was, at first, frozen in surprise. Violet felt nervous but was following what felt like instinct. The world around them seemed to stand still. Nothing else seemed to matter. And, to top it off,

it

just

felt

so

right.

However, the kiss was brief, as Violet pulled away shortly after, too shy, and a little freaked out by her own gut instinct, to continue.

The stallion looked to the side and sighed before smiling. “This is how you kiss.” Confidently, he got up from the chair and walked towards the mare who had retreated to the couch. In a sequence of smooth motions, he took Violet’s cheek in his hoof, tilted his head to the right and pressed his lips onto hers. The kiss was sweet, like the first, and better, but it lasted only a bit longer than the last one. Then came a third, a fourth, a fifth and up until past a dozen. The sweet kisses turned into passionate ones, and the two went beyond the border of ‘just kisses,’ yet the actions weren't out of selfishness.

They were out of love.

Needless to say, the comfort was more than doubled when Violet went to sleep. Not only did the candle provide light, but she slumbered within the gentle grasp of the one she loved.

The one who loved her back.

Sad to say the least, this was the Equestrian Wasteland.

And this was no happy ending.

Chapter Three: Silver Rings

CHAPTER THREE

Bloodshot had never gave much information of his adventures to Violet.

He didn’t even talk about his travels if he could avoid it. While his answers to her questions were in fairly good detail, he had cut most of it out. It’s true, he would sometimes save lives. He would sometimes steal from Raider and Slavers in order to give those items to the poor. He did what little he could for justice, if justice even existed in this hell.

Before he had saved the lilac-eyed mare, Bloodshot was the stereotypical teenage colt who had lived in a bad household. Back at Stable 2, Bloodshot grew up with a kind-hearted mother but an abusive father. While he did care for his mother, little could be done about the situation, and he ended up using a combination of alcohol, drugs and such to get his mind off of the problems.

The Stable was a boring place, and although everyone had to partake in a job to contribute to the lifestyle of others, there was no excitement. How Bloodshot wished for a dramatic change, and later on, how he wished that change never happened.

Although he himself had changed for the better when he escaped the Stable in a drunken and adrenaline daze, the literal safety and promise of another tomorrow diminished. Nobody could say that their life wouldn’t end tomorrow. Even if places such as New Appleloosa were considered safe havens, there was still the constant possibility of death. Complete safety did not exist.

And, as proven, complete safety did not exist even within the Stables.

When Bloodshot left Stable 2, he was greeted with the lonely ruins of what was once Sweet Apple Acres and the humid air of the Raider-infested town of Ponyville. Not only that, but on his own personal travels, Bloodshot had encountered feral ghouls, artificial alicorns and mutated creatures beyond recognition. The Equestrian Wasteland, nearly devoid of life, was no sight nor place for those of weak will and frail health. Horrors beyond anyone’s imagination dwelt within the corners of this apocalyptic scenery. No pen on paper, no artist’s rendition, could ever translate this desolate world into understanding.

The once bountiful empire of Equestria, a land of nature and beauty that thrived because of its strong friendship, had become a war-torn wasteland of near-nothingness.

So when Bloodshot came across a helpless mare, how could he not help?

Now, that very same pony lay next to him, her dark purple mane sprawled out over the mattress and her eyes still closed. It was barely sunrise, and the warm rays of the golden orb peaked over the horizon. Bloodshot left Violet’s side, carefully standing up and managing to not wake her. He had something in mind for this special morning, especially after what had happened the previous night.

Packing food and water for what was meant to be a three hour trip, Bloodshot prepared for another day on the wastes. By the time he had his equipment and armour ready, the empty land was flooded in blinding sunlight. A few rays peaked through the window, highlighting floating dust particles as if they were glitter in mid air. Bloodshot gently kissed Violet’s cheek before leaving for the Equestrian Wasteland.

** *** * *** *

Beige.

Violet stared upwards at the slightly rusted beige of the room's ceiling. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed, half hoping to spot her lover either fiddling with his guitar or tinkering with his rifle. Sadly, Bloodshot was nowhere to be found, having already left and would most likely be back only in the afternoon.

A yawn escaped the mares’ lips as she hopped off the bed, only to realize how sore she had been from the previous evening. Remember what had taken place, a deep crimson blush spread across her cheeks before she shook her head wildly, trying to throw the awkward memory from her brain. “Maybe I'll go visit Lilac today,” Violet mumbled to herself. “After all, there's nothing to do.”

As the last sentence exited her mouth, Violets’ ears dropped considerably. There wasn't anything to do, just like everyday. Her life in New Appaloosa had come to the point where Violet realized that there was no progress, no adventure and only the continuous, never-ending cycle of ‘wake up, eat, do chores and sleep.’ For Celestia’s sake, she didn't even know how to defend herself yet.

“Note to self: Ask Bloodshot to teach you defense.”

Violet didn't do much at home, and although staying in New Appleloosa was for (what Bloodshot called) her own safety, the place was starting to feel more like a prison. Same plain walls. Same plain building.

Same. Everything.

Sure, the life she led here was a million times better than her past, but in the end, the feeling of captivity never left. Violet just wanted a spark of excitement. For once.

She didn't even have her cutie mark.

With her beauty and musical talent, Violet had become New Appleloosa’s darling. Everyone in town knew the young mare. After all, those skilled in the arts were considered treasures, and yet, according to Lady Destiny, piano was not her special talent.

As she made her way to Lilac’s cottage, which was really a large, old shed at the edge of the town, Violet was greeted by a tip o’ the hat from a few and a smile or wave by others. The shed, which had once been painted a barn red, came into view, its maroon coating chipping off. Despite the level of decay and the years that had passed by, Lilac’s cottage was considered the most memorable place in New Appleloosa. Although the shed’s exterior was plain and monochrome, it was not only a home but a museum and memorial of better days. When she was a filly, Lilac had gathered as many pre-war photographs as possible, later hanging the dilapidated pictures up in her home. Even others contributed to the collection of memories -- the photos ranging from the time periods of Princess Luna’s fall to the disastrous end of the Great War and the eventual demise of Equestria.

Among the memorial of time were pictures of the ministry mares themselves (long before the war and in their young adulthood -- they would have been hundreds of years old by now), each of them with a smile on their faces, oblivious to the horristic future. Another picture presented three fillies -- one, an orange pegasus, on what Bloodshot had called a scooter -- two, a curly maned unicorn, with a microphone in hoof -- and three, a redhead earth pony, who was biting into a red fruit. The caption read, ‘CMC3BFF.’ Compared to other characters, these nine ponies appeared the most.

And last, but not least, was a picture of the princesses-turned-goddesses.

Violet had examined these photos time and time again. Not only were the ponies within the pictures smiling brightly, but from the start, they were healthy, with eyes of hope and not the slightest hint of despair. But as the photographs passed by in the best chronological order Lilac could muster, the smiles began to become forced ones, up until the point where they didn’t even exist. Their clean, shining coats became dirty and covered in scars. The backgrounds went from grand buildings to military propaganda. The mood of lightheartedness faded into one of darkness.

Pride.

Envy.

Greed.

Wrath.

… War.

So that was how this lifestyle came to be.

Of what Violet had learned about the Great War from Bloodshot and Lilac, the armed conflict between Zebras and Equestria lasted decades. Thousands upon millions died in the struggle. And for what? Gemstones? Coal? How silly. How foolish.

But she wouldn’t understand. It was too late to understand.

A pony couldn’t be everywhere at once. A pony couldn’t save everyone. But if one pony could do that much, why couldn’t Violet? Violet wanted to be able to do something. Something more.

And be someone more.

One day. Just one day. Maybe just one day, that time would come to pass.

Moving on from the such a past, but still intrigued by it, was Lilac Blossom, New Appleloosa’s local historian and home doctor. Even smaller than Violet, Lilac, known as Lil’ to most, was a pastel yellow, freckled unicorn mare with a heart of good will (which, more often than not, included motherly nagging). Lilac was the one to teach Violet the basics of unicorn magic, as she was skilled magical healing, not just teleport and levitate, which only Violet could do. And yet, despite her soft, velvety voice, Lilac claimed she couldn’t sing for her true. Which, according to her friends, was true.

Lilac hurried around her small home, clearing the only wooden table of ‘historical documents,’ which were really mainly antique party invitations, card game rules or mail. “Ahm sorry! Ah kinda should have expected ya to come over, after all,” she exclaimed in her alien, but sweet, accent. The smaller unicorn stuffed the papers away into a large trunk. “Musta lost track o’ time, aha.”

Violet watched her dear friend as she sat at the table and laughed softly. “It’s fine, Lilac…”

“Still callin’ me Lilac after all this time? Might as well call me Lil’ like everyone else.”

“It just seems strange to call you Lil’. I’m quite small too, you know,” Violet replied.

Lilac trotted over and sat across from Violet. “But ahm smaller,” she said, exaggerating the last part of the word. “Still as small as ah was when I was sixteen, nevah to grow any taller. I have the physique of a child, but at least ya look a bit like an adult... Happy birthday by the way.”

“Thank you, Lilac.”

“Lil,’ Violet. Lil,’” she corrected.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Lil.’”

Lilac shook her head softly. “You say that everyday, butcha still call me Lilac. It’s a habit of yours.”

Violet snorted slightly in an unladylike way. “Then why nag me about it?” she replied jokingly.

“Then, ah surrender,” Lilac sighed, and yet, a smirk crept onto her face. “Moving on. Whadya do with Bloodshot last night?”

“Eh?!” Violet’s face flushed brightly. “What do you mean?!”

“Ah saw it in the way ya walked here. Your backside’s sore, huh? Aww… Mah lil’ filly’s all grown up,” Lilac said in mock pride.

The fur on Violet’s neck seemed to fluff upwards. “H-hey! You’re younger than me!”

“By less than a year, ah ahm!” This was also Lilac Blossom. Despite her motherly personality, she had an addiction to gossip and drama. “So it’s true, then? Ya look like you’ve got a fever with that blush.” The statement was true -- Violet’s face was burning bright red, despite the part of her coat which covered her face. The poor, embarrassed mare covered her face with her hooves. “It was gonna happen someday, Violet. That much was obvious.” Lilac giggled and ran a hoof through her mint green and platinum blond mane.

A knock was heard at the door. “Hey, Lilac! It’s me, Bloodshot,” a familiar deep voice announced. “Is Violet with you? She’s not at home.”

“Speak o’ the devil,” Lilac announced and opened the door to the redhead. Violet just wanted to crawl under the table. “Aye, she’s here.”

Bloodshot entered the cabin to find Violet, her muzzle scrunched up. “What’s wrong…?”

“N-nothing! Er -- I didn’t expect you to be home so soon!” Violet stuttered in reply, glancing at Lilac who was standing behind Bloodshot, a smile plastered on her face.

Bloodshot gave the purple mare a questioningly glance before shrugging and placing his worn saddle bag on the wooden floor. He searched through its contents before taking out what looked like a sturdy leg cuff -- similar to the one on his left front leg. “I’m back early because I already knew what I was looking for and where to go. This is called a PipBuck,” he explained. “When I lived back in Stable 2, I stole one and kept it with me throughout the years. When I arrived outside, I buried it in Ponyville so Slavers couldn’t find it and use it track me. It’s the product of both magic and science, keeps track of your health, detects if the ones around you are hostile, records the radiation levels around you, allows me to know where you are, works as a flashlight and radio… et cetera.”

The blush faded from Violet’s face as she was distracted by the new object. “Amazing,” she mumbled to no one in particular.

“What a convenience!” Lilac remarked.

Bloodshot shook his head. “Eh, not really. It’s considered quite ‘pedestrian’ by the residents of Stable 2. They never even thought it would actually be needed. Now, c’mere. I’ll help you put it on.” He motioned for Violet to walk over, and she did as told. Both Violet and Lilac gathered around the strange terminal-like device. Bloodshot gently took hold of Violet’s left front leg and slipped the PipBuck just above her hoof, the device immediately fixing itself to fit the mare comfortably.

“Thanks!” Violet chirped.

“Oh, and one more thing. It was my mother’s. She gave it to me when we left Stable 2... Happy birthday,” he smiled, placing something around Violet’s neck. It was a simple necklace made of black string, but it's pendant was definitely much more special.

A silver ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Violet gasped before encasing Bloodshot in a gigantic hug. “Yes, yes I will!”

“Ah thought that you guys already gave each other a present by sleeping together last night,” Lilac commented plainly.

Oh. My. Celestia.

Violet squeaked before letting go and bolting through the door, leaving Bloodshot behind, who was practically a statue.

Lilac shrugged in mock innocence. “What?”

Chapter Four: Of Gunshots and Slavers

CHAPTER FOUR

Over the course of the week, Violet learned how to use the PipBuck. Despite being such a technological achievement, it was quite simple to use.

“Hey, Bloodshot,” Violet addressed her fiance as she played around with the PipBuck on the couch. “When are you going to teach me to protect myself?”

Bloodshot, who had been sorting through his findings of the morning, looked up at Violet. “Huh?”

“You know -- when are you gonna teach me defense. I mean, you’re not always around.”

“But it’s not like you’re going to be in danger…”

Violet sighed. ”What if I need to protect myself? What if some Raiders manage to break into New Appleloosa? What if someone in this town suddenly becomes hostile? What if I actually go outside one day? I can’t always just use magic because I’m not even that good at using my own powers,” she reasoned.

Bloodshots’ examined Violet, traveling up and down her body. She was indeed small and skinny, definitely not fit for a fight or any physical confrontation. “Eh, sure. Why not?” He picked himself up. “For now, seen as you’re not too fit -- which I’ll help you physically train later -- I’ll teach you how to use guns and knives.” Bloodshot had Violet stand as far as she could from the far side of the train car. On the far side -- opposite of where Violet was -- he set up three empty soda cans that he had gathered from the outside as metal to be melted down. Pulling out a pistol from his jacket’s side-pocket (which he had purchased from Ditzy Doo’s Absolutely Everything ‘general’ store), Bloodshot walked over and gave the weapon to Violet.

“I guess it’ll be easier for you to aim compared to me since you can levitate the gun,” he explained. “Make sure the pistol is lined up to your eye-level. Use your dominant eye to aim. See these marks?” He pointed at three small tabs sticking out from the top. “When you line them up, your target should be right above the middle mark and between the two outer ones. That’s when you pull the trigger. Try it. Your targets are the cans.”

Violet nodded and squinted, doing as she was instructed, and used her magic to pull the trigger.

BANG!

The middle can flew backwards, hitting the train car’s wall. Violet smiled in glee, observing that the bullet had hit its target on her first try.

BANG! BANG!

The echoes of the bullets’ releases bounced back and forth between the metal walls. Both of the shots had taken out the remaining cans. None of the bullets were wasted.

“Damn. Right off the bat,” Bloodshot exclaimed in surprise. It was definitely better than his first time using a gun. “Well, you already have that down, and I guess you can just use your magic to levitate throwing knives anyways.” Violet lifted her head triumphantly, a large, proud smile on her face. “Buuuut,” Bloodshot began, “you still have to learn physical combat.”

Still, the smiled didn’t fade. “I’ll learn in time.”

A flash of light caught Bloodshot’s eye. “Oh, and, Violet?”

“Yep? What is it?”

“Check your flank.”

Violet turned her head to glance at her flank. And there it was -- her cutie mark -- a silver dagger wrapped loosely in a ribbon of light purple lace. She squealed in excitement and started jumping around the room. “O-M-C! I got my cutie mark! I finally, finally got my cutie mark!” Violet kissed Bloodshot briefly before continuing her celebration. “Thank Luna! After all these years!”

Bloodshot, too, was happy for Violet, but something else kept him from congratulating her with all his heart. Something that he knew all too well.

The fact being that her talent meant fighting…

… and that her destiny…

… included death.

** *** * *** **

The following morning, Bloodshot left both the bed and Violet’s side for another lonely adventure.

Or so he thought.

As he started packing his supplies, a sleepy voice called out to him. “Can I go with you for once?” He turned round to see a bedhead Violet Lace, rubbing her eyes lightly and sitting up in bed. “My talent is defense. I have a PipBuck. You have more than enough weapons for one,” she added. “And I can carry my own supplies.”

“No. You should stay in New Applelo-”

Violet wrinkled her muzzle and got out of bed. “Bloodshot… I’ve been stuck inside these walls for the past three years. And yeah, I know. You care about me and want to protect me, but please, I also need some freedom. New Appleloosa is an amazing place, but there’s more to the world than just a small settlement in the middle of nowhere.”

“But-”

“Please,” Violet interrupted. “I don’t want to just be a burden on you anymore. I want to help.” Her eyes were pleading, set on reaching her goal.

Bloodshot though a moment, going back to the time when she asked him to teach her defense. “You were planning this all along, huh?”

Violet gave off a sheepish smile before nodding.

Bloodshot bit the side of his cheek before complying with a reluctant yes. In turn, the mare hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

** *** * *** **

While she had been outside of New Appleloosa before, within hours of Violet’s first real adventure (as all other travels prior to her release had been as a slave), the mare had already been fascinated by the alien look of rural ruins. While the surroundings they had come to were already familiar to Bloodshot, he had yet to scavenge the entirety of the area.

Violet took in the openness of the land, not only seeing it in Lilacs’ old pictures, but through reality. It was strange, seeing something new -- different from both Fillydelphia, the Cathedral and New Appleloosa.

Too interested in the environment around them, the couple never noticed the red points closing in on them, as shown on their PipBucks.

As Violet unwittingly wandered into an empty alleyway, someone grabbed her from behind. “Well, lookie here. Got ourselves a fair maiden,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, followed by the sickening chuckles of multiple ponies. Slavers -- obvious from the fact that they didn’t plan on killing unless she resisted. She felt the cold metal of a pistol barrel at her cheek, obviously hinting that any move she made would be seen, and if such a move was made, she’d be shot. She’d be killed. “Shouldn’t have strayed from your damned coltfriend, missy.”

Violet was yanked to turn around violently, forcing her to face the group of Slavers, only to see that Bloodshot had been surrounded and captured by the rogue ponies as well.

“Two new additions to the collection in the span of one minute!” A Slaver exclaimed.

“Hey, boss... That’s ta’ bastard who shot Crimson!” One of the male Slavers pointed out, looking at Bloodshot.

Shit, Bloodshot thought as his maroon eyes widened. So he had missed a Slaver -- a witness -- on that afternoon, three years ago? Big mistake...

“So you’re the piece of shit that’s been setting our merchandise free!” The leader growled aggressively, dropping his smug look. “Red-Eye has taken the loss of some of his prized possessions out on his own fucking allies,” he huffed aggressively before smiling sadistically and turning to face Violet. “And ‘cause of such, how about we hurt your own precious mare?”

The stallion swiftly pulled the engagement necklace from around her neck, breaking the black string and throwing the precious jewelry to the ground. Violet shut her eyes tightly and grit her teeth together as another Slaver slammed her entire body into a nearby building’s wall, emitting loud screams from the helpless mare.

“Don’t worry, miss!” The leader chuckled loudly, looking at Violet but taunting Bloodshot. “You won’t die! We still have to play with you more!”

“Shut up!” Bloodshot tried to lunge forward but was held back by a unicorn Slaver’s magic. “Stop it! Don’t you fucking touch her, Celestia damn it!” Violet coughed up blood as the Slaver continued to beat her down in an endless array of kicks and throws.

One kick.

Then two.

Three.

Four.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten blows to her body.

Definitely a few broken ribs.

“Aw, come on, kid!” Another Slaver began. “Aren’t you supposed to be the hero? You know, get the fillyfriend, happily ever after and all that crap?”

But no matter how much he thrashed around, Bloodshot couldn’t get out of the predicament. Two of the Slavers held down a struggling Bloodshot before a Slaver held a knife to his throat -- rendering Bloodshot still, yet gritting his teeth in anger. “Stop it. Hurt her one more time, and I’ll murder you all,” he threatened in a deep growl, a newfound darkness in his eyes.

The Slaver leader paid no mind to the threat and looked at Violet and her assaulter -- a move soon proving to be a foolish one. Never do you hurt the one a person loves. “Continue on,” he ordered.

Violet’s mane was pulled back, the Slaver soon bashing her head into the cement wall, and the last thing she heard before total darkness consumed her was the sound of her name.

“VIOLET!!!”

Chapter Five: New Beginnings

CHAPTER FIVE

Besides having no Violet over for the morning, to which Lilac was expecting as she had been notified by a town guard, it was just a regular Saturday back in New Appleloosa for the pastel doctor. Lilac was up early in the morning for a quick trip to Ditzy Doo’s Absolutely Everything to restock on medical supplies, purchasing the usual amount of needed Radaways, gauze, herbs, ointments, drugs and such for another week.

While Lilac had never been much use to the townsfolk themselves, she had become well-off in New Appleloosan society for being paid to treat the everyday travelers that would pass by, although most of them would only need some medicine for cuts or burns here and there. The worst she had ever treated had been a broken leg, even if she had the skill of pre-war doctors, despite the fact that she didn’t have as much machinery or medicine as them.

So she was definitely surprised to have this happen.

Shouts and the stomping of hooves were heard outside her cottage door right before the multiple desperate knocks on her door. “Lilac! Open up! Please, you’ve got to open up,” pleaded a familiar, panting voice.

Lilac placed the medical supplies on the shelf above her bed before opening the door. “Alright, alright. What’s the ermergen-”

Bloodshot stood at the front door, his dull, rustic coat matted with dried blood, while carrying Violet Lace. The said unicorn was unconscious, her body bruised and partially swollen, and a large, crooked gash crossed her right eye, thought the cut wasn’t deep enough to slice through her eyelid. Many of the residents, too, had gathered around the small shack.

“Bloodshot! Violet! Oh mah Celestia! Get inside!” Lilac instructed.

Bloodshot crouched down next to Lilac’s bed. The unicorn doctor lifted Violet’s body and, as gently as possible, lay the badly injured mare onto the mattress and began to treat the visible wounds. “What happened?!” She questioned worriedly.

“Slavers. Slavers happened. A little more than a dozen. One of them recognized me from when I had saved Violet all those years ago… Damn it. It’s my fault Violet nearly died!” He accused himself, stomping on the floor angrily.

“Nah, Bloodshot... It wasn’t your fault. Besides, the deed was already done. Can’t go back now,” Lilac said in her soft accent, hoping to calm down the stallion as she continued to make the best out of her skills.

Bloodshot glared at the ground. “Look, just… W-will she be alright? How long will she be out?”

Lilac sighed at the quick change of topic but did nothing to go back to the previous one, as there was no use in doing so. “She’ll be fine, but how long she’ll be out depends on te’ way she passed out. The cut on her left eye…”

“One of the Slavers bashed her head into a wall. It wasn’t too hard, but she must’ve already been exhausted by the time the son of a bitch did so,” Bloodshot muttered quickly. “A severe, and I mean severe concussion.”

“Then, just a few hours at best ta’ about a month at worst.”

The door to the large shed was still open, and many residents had seen what was going on, starting from Bloodshot and Violet’s arrival at the settlement. The audience was confused, astounded, even, that Slavers -- most of whom had worked for Red-Eye -- had done this to such a sweet, kind mare. They had known nothing of Violet’s past.

“Slavers?!” A pony piped up within the crowd, their voice loud and clear over the mumbling of the group. “This settlement has never had any conflict with Slavers. Aren’t we on friendly terms with them?”

“Aye. But doesn’t mean they aren’t violent folk,” said another voice. “Kinda shaky, those ‘friendly’ terms.”

“If the former stable dweller is wanted by Slavers, we can’t have him stay here,” screamed someone else, referring to Bloodshot.

The ponies’ arguments grew louder, each voicing their own opinion on the matter and what to do. After all, what is logical, what is allowed and what is right are completely different things.

The doctor had enough and went outside for a moment. “Can ya’ll please move ta’ debate somewhere else?!” Lilac screamed louder than any of the others, frustrated. “I’m tryin’ to treat mah patient here!”

In a collection of mutters and half-finished retorts, to which Lilac responded to with a death glare, the arguing crowd left. Slamming the door and locking it to make sure that everyone else not involved in the immediate matter was shut out, Lilac continued on with her work. In less than an hour, Violet had been properly treated to the extent of Lilac’s skill.

“Bloodshot,” Lilac finally spoke after a few minutes of silence, “there’s blood on your coat.”

“It isn’t mine. It’s theirs. But a few of them escaped.”

Lilacs’ eyes widened. “Ya… Ya killed them? Y-you said there was more than a dozen!”

He looked to the side apathetically. “Yeah. I know.”

Bloodshot. Kind, caring, albeit rough-when-you-first-meet-him Bloodshot… Slaughtered a dozen ponies… In a single moment?

“I’m guessing you now consider me a monster, huh?” Bloodshot chuckled in a broken manner, interruption Lilacs’ thoughts.

“N-nah! That’s n-not -- Ah was just surprised! Tha’s all!” The doctor stuttered, forcing herself to smile for her friend.

Bloodshot sighed and stopped laughing, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. “Look, whoever the hell said that line was is right -- I’m endangering the town by being here. I need to leave New Appleloosa before someone else gets hurt.”

“But what abou’ Violet? She’s needs ya! She loves ya, Bloodshot… Doncha love her back…?”

“Exactly why I can’t put her in any more danger.” Lilac reached out to pat his back, but Bloodshot immediately flinched at her touch. “I can’t forgive Slavers. I can’t forgive anyone who will ever bring harm to those I care about. Especially anyone who hurts Violet,” he huffed, gathering his things. “I’ll come back when I find and kill that stallion. Don’t look for me. Take care of her, please,” Bloodshot requested of Lilac, but his tone sounded more like an order.

“Bloodshot, ya can’t just leave!” Lilac exclaimed, jumping to his side. “What if something happens and ah can’t tell ya?!”

“You’ll have to deal with it yourself. Look, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry. I have to do this. Goodbye, Lilac.” His gaze moved from the doctor to the mare on the bed. “Goodbye… Violet.”

For one last time, he kissed the purple mare on the lips and placed the special silver ring necklace, which he had fixed, back onto her neck.

So Bloodshot left New Appleloosa to find solace in revenge…

… And he wouldn’t return for five long years.

** *** * *** **

The world around her a never-ending void of nothingness.

It felt strange.

Like it was wrong.

Like it wasn’t supposed to be empty.

Like it was supposed to be filled and satisfied by something other than ‘nothing.’

But that thing that wasn’t nothing, but was meant to be something, just wasn’t a thing that existed here.

And nothing could be done about that.

So she continued to fall, having no sense of time or space in this mysterious, never-ending void of nothingness.

** *** * *** *

The mare’s eyes opened to see a small room, pictures posted on the walls and medical supplies displayed on a shelf above her. A pastel yellow unicorn with green highlights in her nearly-white hair noticed the mare wake up and hurried to the bedside with a large smile.

“Oh mah Celestia! Praise the goddesses!” The unicorn exclaimed happily. “Ya finally decided to wake up after these three tirin’ weeks.”

But the unicorn’s smile didn’t last for long.

“I’m sorry,” the mare replied. “But…”

“... Who are you? And where am I?”

Volume Two - V3 Introduction

VOLUME TWO INTRODUCTION

Vi took another shot of fizzing cider before gathering together all the bottle caps on the table into her saddle bag. “Huzzah!” She proclaimed. “The black widow devours the flies once again!”

The stallions sitting at the table around her groaned in disappointment. After five years, they still hadn’t been able to beat the famous Vi Dagger in a simple card game. Despite the fact that she had a large intake of cider during and prior to the gamble, the mare definitely knew how to hold her alcohol.

“Cheater! How could I have fucking lost?!” A skinny earth pony stallion, his eyes covered by glasses, at the table whined. “I know damn well that I couldn't have fucking lost!”

Vi tilted her head, rested her cheek on her right hoof and smiled, fluttering her long eyelashes. “Dearie, you might wanna be sure about a win if you were gonna bet the majority of your money,” she said in her silky, smooth voice. “Now run along if all you're gonna do is whine like a foal.” She motioned a ‘shoo' with her other hoof.

“Damn mare,” the same lanky stallion muttered, going to his side as fast as possible to reach for his pistol, but as his hoof made contact with the gun’s grip, a dozen knives within the immediate vicinity came to life, all pointed at him. They were held in place by Vi’s magic, as she had expected such an incident like many others before it. The large room fell silent.

“‘No weapons allowed in the tavern,’ mister,” she said as her smile faded, quoting a line from the hastily-made sign outside the building. “Unless you have to defend yourself, of course. When you resort to violence after the inability to accept a loss out of pride, what you boil down to is a spoiled brat who doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no.’” Her voice switched from a flirtatious tone to a low, threatening one.

The supposed-to-be-shooter gulped loudly before raising both hooves in the air as if signaling surrender. One of the employees quickly confiscated the pistol from the stallions’ side.

And the femme fatale smiled again. After placing the butter knives back on their proper tables, she stood up and walked out the door, swaying her tail all the while in the light of another victory.