Fallout: Equestria - Life is Miserable

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZUln73KN-I

Dim Nova was nowhere to be found; no place did her dreams exist within the Flow. Amelio had even helped the alicorn seek out any presences in the farthest reaches using her sixth sense, but nothing was found. It was as if the mare had just completely disappeared, a theory furthered by those who'd known her up until her vanishing. But beside that, Fear had at least gotten to see Crate and Angel again. They were joyful upon seeing him, having never expected they'd see each other in their dreams.

Luna had collected the colt and two lovers, bringing them together in one dreambubble.

“So yeah, after I beat that bitch Solanum I left for home again. Sorry the story took so long.” Fear rubbed his left foreleg with the right, glancing down and to the side.

Crate's gruff voice sounded out gaily. “No worries Fear, we're just happy you've been doing better! Isn't that right sweetie?”

Angel nodded softly, a gentle smile spread across her face. “Indeed. It's a pleasure to see you again, even if only in our dreams. You'll have to come visit sometime so we can play cards again.”

Something about the whole thing didn't feel... authentic. There was a mentality to it all, Fear could tell it was all in his head but at the same time it wasn't, the others around him weren't products of his imagination. It felt as if everything was at his beck and call, and all he had to do was imagine it in order to make it a reality. But whenever he woke up, things felt even more fake than ever before, like life was made up of dolls and the only thing that set it apart were the souls. Despite all the actual physical sensations that weren't a product of the mind there was something... off about it. All the time. It left the colt unsure about the state of things more often than not, but Amelio assured him that it was natural for nothing to feel absolute as you got used to sifting between sleep and waking.

Fear looked up with a brilliant smile splitting his maw open, his legs rigid and tail whipping from side to side. “I'd really love that! So I heard you two have an adopted foal now?”

The two lovers gazed at each other for a moment, with Crate speaking first. “Huh, you really find out everything in this place?”

Fear shook his head wildly. “Nah! Not even slightly. There's so much that can't be found out. It's all about what creatures dream of and stuff, ya know?”

Angel 'hmm'ed. “Well, it would have been nice if we could have told you about him ourselves. Crate found him on his route awhile back. He was a little feral, recently escaped from some slavers, and we took him in. He's a real hoofful sometimes.”

“Oh? What's his name?” Fear was ever the curious colt.

Crate took a step forward. “We call him Bidden, but his full name is Glory Bidden. His parents had high hopes for him.”

Fear's ears twitched, his lips creeping a little higher. “That's pretty cool.” It reminded him of his mother. “I'm sure he'll manage to do a lot.”

Angel shrugged. “I don't know if we can expect that much out of him, but it'd be nice if he just became a functioning member of the wasteland. We might try to move to Friendship City at some point in order to have a little more protection. We'll have to live in the Slums but we might be able to get some work around there.”

Fear hopped up, beaming like a sun. “That'd be super cool!” He squeaked. “I'd have to make sure to visit you three!”

Crate rubbed his chin with a hoof. “Provided we remember all this when we wake up we'll have a lot to tell him about the little colt who killed our murderer.”

Fear's brows lifted slightly. “Oh, by the way, did you two get my note and stuff? Did you all leave town?”

Angel shook her head. “We got your note, yes. We were concerned, and saddened. But we figured you had a good reason for leaving.” The mare's voice was solemn and downtrodden. “We took our things and left for a day, but we couldn't get anypony to join us. I trusted your mother, so I trusted you knew what you were talking about. I'm just glad it turned out to be nothing. We didn't know what to make of it when we got back. Other ponies made fun of us for it, but we knew... you'd probably done something to stop it.”

Crate nodded. “It's good to finally have the full story of what happened.”

“I'm just glad I finally got to tell you. I was so worried you guys would think I was crazy, or think I abandoned you, or, or... a whole host of other things!” Fear bounced up, stomping both forehooves against the ground. “Like I said, I just didn't feel like I deserved to stay. It reminded me of all these.. emotions. All these things I'd done. But I'm doing better now, and I found... something akin to peace.”

Angel moved up to Fear's front and wrapped a foreleg around his neck, pulling him into her bosom. “It's fine, Fear. We're just glad you're well. It's good to have closure.”

Crate sidled up next to the colt and draped a hoof over his flanks, yanking him in close. “Indeed. You'll always be welcome around us, little savior.”

Fear sighed, closing his eyes. “I'm just glad you believe me and this is all real.”

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“Got a special broadcast for all you colts and fillies out there!” The DJ's deep voice spouted from Fear's mother's radio, blaring at full volume in the fields of crops. “I recently got news from the Neighvada Desert that a pony killed off King Solanum in his own home, and the hive is now under new management. I don't know quite what to expect of Spearmint Wing but I hope all you children out there will treat him with respect and, who knows? Maybe he'll return the favor! We could always use more loyalty in the wasteland. Either way, the roads should be safer now! Less likely to be abducted and used as a slave. Whoever the little pony is that removed a constant threat from life in the desert, we thank you!”

Fear was busy training with Gentler all over again as he listened to the broadcast, a smile seeping onto his face as was becoming constant at this rate. He felt more full of himself than ever before, like he could take on anything. He'd been told to watch for the repeating broadcast, never thinking he'd be talked about by his favorite hero aside from Mega Mare.

The colt only came up to Gentler's thigh as they fought, with the Abyssinian flowing through a variety of punches and kicks, which Fear all dodged or deflected with pulses of telekinesis or the swat of a hoof depending on which spell was contained within the cat's weapons, his newfound, faintly sinuous muscles rippling under the surface of his tiny body with each little motion. He could use transformation magic to give him even more strength by this point, but it seemed redundant and useless.

Fear swerved to the side as a kick sailed over his head, then jumped into the air as Gentler's other leg sweeped out for his limbs. During the Abyssinian's spin he lashed out with a fist for the colt's head, as a powerful shock zapped in the gauntlet. Fear responded simply by twisting his head to the side as he hung in the air, his horn lighting up, a telekinetic field wrapping around the hand and forcing it down and back as he landed on the ground again. The unicorn let out a valiant war cry as he yanked with all his power on Gentler, trying to bring him crashing into the ground.

Gentler countered by leaping forward, doing a flip in the air and pulsing a magic nullifying spell through his gauntlet, unlatching him from the magical grip and landing on his feet, spinning around with a leg out to roundhouse Fear's hindlegs.

The colt reared up onto his forelegs and somersaulted, his spine bending at a weird angle thanks to his calisthenics with Chirp, and landed back on his hindlegs. Though as he did he took a deep breath, held it, and slipped into the ground like it was water.

Due to the cloud cover above the entire wasteland was covered in shadows, fortunately for the hybrid, allowing Fear to swim within like a shark, the only sign of his presence being a darker shade where he laid.

Fear darted under Gentler's greaves before he could pump nullification into them and send the colt sprawling into the air from the force, raising up out of the surface behind him and gasping air as Gentler spun around again, bringing a heel to bare against the colt.

But it was a feint. Fear's head popped out of the ground before he dove back in and bolted behind the Abyssinian. Fear came up from the rear just as Gentler's leg was finishing its sweep, Fear's foreleg jutting up in a punch and striking the cat in the knee, causing his leg to wither away, pulling back against his body.

Fear dipped back into the ground as Gentler flew forward at him, intending to clip him in the jaw with a static shock punch before he could disappear.

The colt was too swift however and immediately launched out of the ground from behind Gentler, hopping up and landing on his back, wrapping a foreleg around his neck. Fear thought about manipulating the shadows to try and strangle the cat but his magic nullifying spell would have quickly put a stop to that, so he decided against it. Fear wrapped Gentler's throat in a choke hold, holding his foreleg against the two blood vessels that brought oxygen to his brain.

Gentler responded by flipping over onto his spine and using the back of his head to butt Fear's skull into the ground, his gauntlets coming up to Fear's tightened foreleg with electricity crackling along them, intending to touch the harassing limb and make it numb.

Fear felt it coming with his empathy even as his head reeled from the bang against the ground, roughhousing with the cat as his foreleg turned into shadows, collapsing around the Abyssinian's throat just as the hand came up, touching his throat and sending a powerful shock flowing through Gentler's system and making it difficult to breathe.

The colt huffed, one eye lidded and the other twitching from the soreness in his skull. “Surrender!?” Fear was frantic, hoping that was the end of the fight.

Gentler coughed and hacked. “M-mercy!” That was the end of their daily spars. “Well...” the Abyssinian wheezed. “Well done again, Fear.”

Fear's grin reached untold lengths as he let go of the cat and slipped into the shadows before appearing on all fours a few inches away, panting for air, still wincing from the blow to his head.

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Gentler and Fear stared intently at each other across the table at Scavver's Tavern, with the colt sitting on his haunches in one chair and the Abyssinian sitting across with his feet planted firmly on the floor. The cat had a large, condescending smirk on his face, leaning forward, vision needling into the unicorn. Fear on the other hoof was determined, his face set in a heavy scowl and eyes penetrating deep into Gentler's soul. He would not lose, slamming his hoof on the table, the shot glasses between them jostling from the force. “Your start,” Fear coaxed.

Gentler smirked, his whiskers shivered as his snout wrinkled up. “A tom got hit in the head with a can of sparkle cola. At least it was a soft drink.”

Fear kept a straight face, leaning on an elbow and holding his chin with a hoof. “The shovel was a groundbreaking invention.”

Gentler merely shrugged and grinned. “Want to hear a joke about construction? I'm still working on it.”

Fear's lips turned upward, jerking slightly. “So what if I don't know what armageddon means? It's not the end of the world.”

Gentler sighed, eyes rolling in their sockets. “If I had fifty caps for every time I failed a math exam I'd have five hundred twenty caps.”

The colt took a moment to think about that. When he finally got it his jaw hinged open and his eyes widened, a little snrrk escaping his lips, snout scrunching. Fear stomped a hoof and took a shot, his whole body cringing from the taste. After wiping his mouth with a hoof, he continued. “What do you call a fish with no eye? A fsh.”

Gentler's brow lifted an inch at that one. No other reaction. “My brother,” he began simply, “and I often laughed about how competitive I am.” The cat leaned forward. “I laughed more.” He had a sinister expression.

Fear's tail whipped to the side under him, trying to keep a straight face. “I still remember what my Mom said before she kicked the bucket.”

The cat nearly whistled at the gall.

“How far do you think I can kick this bucket?”

It was such a dark joke Gentler couldn't help but laugh, batting a paw and taking a swig from one of the shots, slamming it back down against the table. “My girlfriend's dad told me he wanted her home before midnight. I told him he already owned her home.”

Fear couldn't help but giggle at that, cursing to himself under his breath as he struck another shot down his throat. It burned like Tartarus. “What's the difference between roast bloatwing and pea soup?”

“What?”

“You can rrr... rrroast a bloatwing but no one can p... pee ssssoup.”

Despite himself, Gentler chuckled at the dumb joke, knocking back a shot with the experience of a heavy drinker. “I didn't want to believe Mom was stealing stuff from her job as a road worker, but when I got home all the signs were there.”

Fear wasn't able to resist laughing, tapping a hoof on the table and shaking his head wildly before using telekinesis to drink down another glass. His breath smelled like alcohol already, and his eyes were becoming glassy. “Wha... whuh's brown and has... hassss wheels? Sssss.”

“Fucking lightweight,” Gentler teased. “A wagon?”

“N... nnno. Dirt. I l-lied about the wh... wheels.” Fear's mouth moved like he was trying to chew on something that wasn't there.

Gentler guffawed out loud, nearly busting a gut as he slumped over, holding his abdomen. The cat downed another bit of alcohol.

Fear's sixth sense was blurring beyond comprehension, all the souls in the area starting to mix together and everyone's intent becoming a fierce amalgamation of emotions that he couldn't keep up with. He was left so far behind in the dust, with everything spinning around him he was becoming dizzy.

“Fine.” Gentler conceded. “What's the difference between a cat and a complex sentence?”

The hybrid's face was sagging to one side as he tried to understand the question, one eye lidded and his lips tugging downward. “Huh?” When he finally regained cognizance he shook his head and queried, “what?”

“A cat has claws on the end of its paws, a complex sentence has a pause at the end of its clause.”

Fear's face was expressionless for moments as he tried to comprehend the punchline, squinting suspiciously at the cat. After a few moments it clicked, recalling his time with his mother, getting it by context only (which was how he understood most things), and stutter-giggled to himself tipsily. “Eheheh hee hee heh... haha.” Fear reached out with his magic, nearly knocking some shot glasses over, before successfully gripping one and lifting it to his lips, cocking back the drink and wincing as it drained into his stomach. “I'm... mmm I'mmmmm sssscared of ele... elevators. So I'mmmm going to start taking... taking steps to avoi... avoid them.”

Gentler laughed a little at that, partly at how drunk Fear already was and partly at the joke itself, pouring a shot into his mouth. “What do you call a pile of cats?”

Fear gazed at Gentler vacantly.

“A meowtain.” There was a giant smile lingering on the Abyssinian's face as he said it.

Fear's entire face screwed up in euphoric laughter, his shoulders rocking and eyes squeezed shut, bellowing out laugh after laugh until one laugh too many caused him to throw up all over the floor next to him with a loud, heaving 'blooooorf!'

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Faith had invited Fear into one of her street sermons. A new one for a new age about Princess Luna and her role in their dreams. That peace would be kept within the dream world one way or another, and that those with WTSD would be able to rest easier nowadays that a princess had been brought back. Fear helped with it, supporting her like the colt he was and shouting at everypony just as she did.

Unfortunately nopony believed them. Everypony just kept walking on by without a single care in the world for the two crazies on the side of the road shouting at them.

“Karma doesn't exist! We all get many moments to change our ways and become better! Every time we face another pony,” Fear yelled, “we get the opportunity to stand down or keep going. We get the choice to question our actions and think critically. We often face those who are similar to us, those that show us what we could be, or what we can be! I've met so many ponies that've shown me what I could become if I'm not cautious, and what I could be if I work hard and listen to others!”

Faith took a step forward, holding the weapon she normally carried with her for self defense under her hind hoof. “There is order in communication. There is harmony and discord in friendship. Positive change is all around us, just waiting to bring us to our higher selves. To reveal the alicorn inside all of us!”

“Friendship is stability!” Fear cried. “Everypony should take a deep look inside themselves and analyze everything that makes them what they are! Get help from others! Be good! Everypony has it in them! There is not a single creature that is handicapped – that doesn't have it!”

“Evil is simply born from misunderstandings and boredom, we can do better!” Faith was insistent as ponies just passed them by.

“The wasteland tests our mettle, and we have a choice of either drowning our problems in sex, drugs, and violence,” as Fear'd learned from Faith, “or we can walk straight and true with the help of others and recover! We can heal! The wasteland can heal! Just by devoting ourselves to each other and our higher ideals!”

“All creatures,” Faith proceeded, “may live in peace! All races! There is no one superior race nor species, we all have something to contribute to the restoration of the wasteland! The discord generated by friendship will ripple outward and change the world!”

And it continued like that for at least a few hours. Fear did this with Faith at least once a day, helping her with her preaching. Often repeating. Sometimes discovering more lines of reasoning. Occasionally Faith proclaimed stories to those who'd listen, and Fear joined in with the tales of self.

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Fear stared at Emulae for a time, his tail whipping back and forth as he sat at the dining room table, surrounded by cowboy kitsch. Old creaky wood, wallpaper, antiquated paintings of scenery (had it once belonged to a painter? Fear had to ask Jack) and a number of homely, miscellaneous crafted trinkets. Overall the whole room emanated a feeling of hygge that crept into the flesh like acid, corroding stress and the chill of discomfort. The colt was always impressed with it all, but right now he was focused on the female changeling across from him. She had a sincere, affectionate, and gentle smile on her face that eased the energy right out of Fear's reserves. It was like there was a crack in the dam that held back his world's worth of determination, leaving him lax. Ever since he'd met her he'd been trying to come to terms with the unusual, wild sensation that nibbled at him like being stroked along the spine. He looked from her to the middle of the table, rather casually. His eyes hooked on the vacant napkin holder that looked like the jaws of some craggy wild animal, and the scant few knicknacks piled next to it – they all looked friendly with each other. In particular, his gaze was caught on an antique clay frog that was polished to a shine, with poisonous colors coating it in an oddly realistic fashion. His expression was contemplative. “Alright I'm ready.” Fear calmed his breathing, falling into a meditative trance, and focused on the reliable, substantial frog bauble.

Emulae's eyes slimmed, blinking once at the hint of nonchalance in Fear's tone. Given his usual failures at these exercises, it was strange, almost as if he'd gained a dollop of confidence. She focused on Fear's mind, expelling illusory wavelengths from her body. They caressed the unassuming amphibian sculpture, molding and warping it. It transformed right before Fear's eyes, becoming something that every rowdy sensory input told him was real and dangerous. But he kept his cool, using the newfound integrity of his mind's eye to endure. His head twisted to the side slightly, but he kept his eyes on the frog, which was now snarling at him like a wild dog, having opened its mouth to reveal rows and rows of serrated teeth. It looked ready to lunge at him.

Fear pushed out illusory currents of his own, filling it up. Right before Emulae's eyes the frog began to change even more, morphing into a beast with tentacle whiskers that lashed out at the changeling, wrapping around her throat and constricting.

Emulae's eyes widened, feeling the sensation of having her airway cut off. “Hee hee, you've gotten so much better at this game little Fear.”

Fear kept quiet as he tried to put all his power into making the mirage as real as possible.

Emulae hardly moved, with one hoof in reality and one hoof in the dream. She then twisted it back around on Fear in a way he'd come to expect, bringing the table between them to life, slowly transforming from a four-legged slab of wood into a towering timberwolf, the napkin holder forming a ridge of spines, and the trinkets piled on top becoming sickly warts that looked like if they popped, they'd splash gross, vomit-inducing ichor everywhere.

Which is why Fear saw it coming.

The bubbles on the skin of the newfound, drooling creature that roared in his face popped, vile gunk splattering everywhere and oozing all over the ground, droplets plastering on Fear's face and body. At least that's how it felt. It was oily and summoned up every ounce of disgust within him, making his stomach flop once, then twice, then convulse and nearly heave up his lunch. Fear's throat constricted and he held his breath, cheeks puffing out, saliva filling his mouth at the sensation of approaching discharge. He held himself back though, but because he was so intent on braving the responses gurgling and brimming inside of him, he wasn't prepared for what came next.

Emulae's illusion proceeded, the giant maw of the ex-table chomping down on Fear's skull, the teeth digging into his neck and causing blood to blossom. Fear could feel the release of life-giving fluids seeping from him. He couldn't breathe, as if something had severed his larynx, and everything had suddenly gone dark. All he could see was shadowed brown hues, the interior of the creature's wooden mouth.

Still, Fear endured. He was used to visions like this from her. He would not give in, he would not break. He would not shatter. Even now he pumped delusions outward from him.

The timberwolf shifted and cavorted in front of Emulae.

Fear pulled on something deep inside of his memory. The timberwolf began to melt, turning into a behemoth of sludge before easily taking on a new shape, becoming something so giant the house around them began to break apart. Fear let out a war cry deep within himself as he put everything he could into the illusion. Growing larger, and larger, more and more massive, borrowing on the changeling's memories of what was around them, until all that was left was debris of the house, Emulae, and the farmland around them. It became something far more sinister and bestial, something with a lack of sentience, as well as an abstract moral compass all in one. Something that Emulae could sense was far beyond her. It was bigger in every way Emulae could imagine. The head of it, which was now facing the changeling, became more flowery with blossoming petals, a fractaling, worm-like mouth that funneled deep inside, with sequential rings of teeth surrounding the insides and a hearty, durable shell made of rigid, spikey plates that jutted outward like a giant dragon's scales. They rippled actively, the mouth of the creature collapsing, teeth ramming together, the petals folding closed around Emulae's body, pulling her in. Fear kept going with the illusion as Emulae was thrown for a loop.

Emulae could smell the creature's breath, something otherworldly and ephemeral, a toxic drug leaving her delirious and nauseated like diethyl ether. There was something frightening about it that struck her to the core, as if her very soul, her consciousness was about to be ingested. She saw herself approaching the teeth.

The terror Fear felt when he'd first encountered the Dirge within the exoverse came rampaging over Emulae's awareness, trampling her into the ground, and leaving her ragged and panicked.

“Stop!” Emulae shouted. Her breathing was heavy, her heart hammering in her chest.

Fear ceased the illusion, everything returning to normal, reality yanking into place with a jerk and a flash. A huge smile spread across his face. “I win. Finally.”

Emulae smiled, holding a leg against her chest and trying to calm herself, panting heavily. “In... indeed you d... do. Good... good job, little Fear.”

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“So where are you from, originally?” Fear glanced to his grandfather who was trotting by him, side closest to the crops they were passing. Jack had his eyes on every single piece of vegetation sticking up here and there, and seemed to be feeling out for the slightest disturbances in his yield with narrowed vision, focused on things Fear could neither see nor feel. It was a kind of congenital instinct, a natural talent that had been cultivated over time like the very plants Jack took care of, and it was something Fear wasn't sure he possibly had in him even if the point of this was to teach him the basic idea behind it.

“Haha, you have a hard time focusing don't you?” The stallion's voice was bemused, a sly smile creeping on his face that couldn't be wiped off no matter how hard anypony tried. “Well, I suppose I can tell you that story. If you really wanna hear it.”

Fear stomped a foreleg against the ground. “Yes! Definitely! I like to learn!” Fear's smile was equally bright and infallible, for now at least.

“Hehe, well.” Jack thought about it, as if it'd been a long time, his vision casting to the quilty, sinuous cloud cover above before returning his gaze to the fields. “I grew up in Maneami with my parents. Before the war it was a city of eternal partying, which is why it was often visited by Ministy Mare Pinkie Pie herself.” Jack halted and 'hmm'ed. His eyes caught sight of a small patch of withered, shriveling pumpkins a little further in. They looked to be browning and growing mushy. Strips of skin were peeling from them, looking an unhealthy orange underneath. They seemed to be struggling, though it didn't help most of them were covered in a thin layer of dust and needed to be rinsed off. Jack wove through the clumps of vine-leashed pumpkins, almost as if dancing, with Fear following along behind him, toward the patch. “Stick a pin in that thought for now, Fear, this is what I wanted to show you.” Jack's lips were firmly pursed as he stood over the pumpkins, watching the small bunch of them with an analyzing gaze.

“O-okay.” Fear sounded uncertain, sitting back on his haunches next to him, before his vision cast to the pumpkins.

As time passed, the colt felt something brimming in the air, wafting off of his grandfather. It was... unusual. It tickled his brain. Suddenly he could feel every crystalline nerve inside of his brain resonating with the emotional output. His mind was teeming with sensory, nearly overload. Fear's jaw dipped, his eyes widening, pupils dilating slightly at the sensation. With a flick of his ears, he spoke. “How are you doing that?”

Jack shushed Fear and knelt down to the plants, breathing on them. The carbon dioxide flowing from his maw and swirling around in the air, lovingly caressing the coiling, winding stems and the tough gourds themselves. He was speaking sweet nothings. Fear leaned forward to listen, his ears twitching again. It was encouragement, words about how they were doing so well, and soon enough they'd be fulfilling their purpose, their destiny. They would be cared for until the end, and the end would be glorious, it would be an amazing destination. It was... riveting. Words alone couldn't do it justice. Fear wondered if the inspirational speech could ever be directed at him. The colt watched as Jack went from pumpkin to pumpkin, affectionately whispering to each and every one of them, time passing at a shimmy, even going so far as stroking his hooves along the plump pumps and holding them against his body, sharing warmth.

Fear's eyes aimed at Jack, concentrating on him, pupils contracting as he tried to figure out what he was doing. His lids fell shut as he tried to find the source of those emotions. It was clear where it was coming from but... it was originating specifically from his horn.

Waiting until he was done, Fear finally spoke again. “How'd you... how'd you do that?”

Jack smiled, standing tall and stepping up to Fear. “Well you know how unicorn magic is powered by emotions?” Fear nodded dumbly, his mouth a gentle frown, eyes boring holes into the stallion as if he held all the answers of life, the universe, and everything. “Anypony can do it, radiating emotions, but unicorns have the easiest time of it because they're familiar with forming magical energies with their emotive power. All you have to do is sort of... direct the emotions into that part of your body, overriding the thaumic gland. It's a little difficult – it requires meditation to figure out. But eventually you can.”

Fear glanced to the pumpkins, gnawing his lower lip, clearly intrigued. “Huh, okay. Thanks.” A smile broke across his face and he jerked his tail to the side, having something new to work on alongside all his other practices.

“It might actually be similar to that nightmare pressure your little dream friend taught you.”

Fear's head bolted into place, staring at Jack dumbstruck. “Really? Wow.” Fear pushed a hoof against his jaw and stared at the earth, eyes lidding. “Thanks.”

Jack beamed, putting a hoof on Fear's shoulder and guiding him back to the pathway as the colt contemplated his options.

The trot was calm and sedated, the roiling clouds above as still as ever, like cottony gray dirt encompassing the whole of the sky. It'd be depressing for most, but sometimes if you looked close enough you could make out shapes within the divots and chunks. Eventually Jack prodded Fear and questioned him. “So, you want to hear about my life?”

Fear was yanked out of his reverie and looked up like he'd been in a daze, a little disoriented. “Oh, yeah, uh, sure.” His mouth curled upward once more as he glanced between Jack and the road.

“Well, as I was saying, Maneami was a ride, even when I was young. Lots of drugs, et cetera. If you scavenged long enough eventually you'd salvage some old thing or two. I did a lot of experimenting growing up, and on one of my...” Jack coughed into his hoof, “acid trips. I discovered the wonders of meditation and how to pump emotions from my horn. It just sort of... opened up to me. Back then I could've sworn I'd even been able to feel things nopony else could!” A gay laugh escaped his lips. “But yeah, I started doing it all the time, making everypony feel good, and one day I found a packet of seeds and old, desiccated soil. I decided to try and grow something because, hey, you never know right? With dormant seeds and all that, you might find something.”

“So I was desperate, y'see? I was trying my absolute best with what I had, trying to find as much water as I could to keep it up, and took care of it every day. Even when I left Maneami to seek out my own destiny I looked after it. And one day... it sprouted!” Jack stood up on his hindlegs, throwing his forelegs outward like an explosion, his face lit up like a blazing inferno of happiness. “I was so, so excited that I just kept it up! And eventually it grew into a nice flower, albeit unhealthy. And I tried my best to get it to blossom like those ancient pictures, and I got my cutiemark. It was a struggle, I tell ya. Meanwhile I was avoiding raiders like the plague, making a little money by hunting down various items for other ponies, I always had a knack for finding just the right object. I made friends and relationships, occasionally offered my services as a comfort horse.”

That explained how Sim learned some of what he knew, Fear thought.

“And after a long time taking care of that little flower, it finally bloomed. I was so ecstatic, there are no words.” The stallion sighed wistfully. “I kept it with me for a long time, I still keep it in my little gumdrop's and my room to this day.”

Fear 'huh'ed. “So when'd you find this farm? And when'd you meet Emulae?”

“Well, I met Emulae shortly after the flower blossomed for its second time!” Jack's eyebrows were raised, as if they couldn't stand to be held down. “We hit it off immediately. I didn't find out til later, when I'd earned her trust and proven myself, that she was a changeling and that the primary reason she'd taken a liking to me so fast was because I'd been able to grow a flower, a viola no less. But I was more enticed than ever. We'd already had sex multiple times and, really? It was neat to hear just how she felt about me, and I realized that learning what she really was didn't change at all how she'd treated me previously, and if anything it showed she was making herself more vulnerable than ever by actually revealing it to me. After that, unless we were around other ponies, I had her be her true self all the time.” The stallion was vibrant, yet calm like a lava lamp. “As for the farm.” Jack looked back the way they came with appreciation and gratitude etched all over him. “My little gumdrop and I came here at some point for shelter, and the previous farmer, who wasn't doing so well in his old age, offered to tutor me on how to take care of the crops if I promised to stay and help the town nearby. Of course I promised. I believed it was my destiny for one, and second of all that's just the kind of pony I am!”

Fear had a weary smile. After dealing with the Seer's Eye he wasn't sure there was such a thing as destiny. Or at least one true destiny. There were many destinies, and by seeing what you might do you could always change it and carve a new one. That's how it seemed at least to him. “Wow, that's a pretty cool story! So you eventually had my Dad?”

“Yeah, after we finally settled down we figured it'd be for the best to have a foal. Over time I brought prosperity, far more than it ever had in the past, to this little farm. Eventually the Steel Rangers also took an interest in it, and... the rest is history.”