Fallout Equestria: Feather in a Windstorm

So this is where I begin…

Given past circumstances, I have been lead to believe that my envoy, Maize Dancer, is not fit to tell this story alone. Putting it succinctly. Multiple aspects of these events must be considered! Knowing her, she would not be forthcoming with detail. It took her seven tries before I gave up and let her word off on her own. Ergo, I will let you in on my account and you may piece together the rest on your own. I will try to ease off on the heavy prose as per the Maize Dancer’s request.

She said I am often prone to pretentious diction.

But before I can continue, I believe I should introduce myself. My name is Gwendolyn Astoria Lovegale. I am a griffon, a ghoul, and relevant to this story. I am a doctor; the most capable doctor in the wasteland. I received my training from Canterlot University, doing my residency in New Moon Royal Hospital before the war began.

Yes, I am what would be referred to as a pre-war ghoul.

Just like Maize Dancer, I believe it appropriate to begin this story from the diner. Everything that came before I can explain to you when I consider it most relevant.

I was on the run when I happened upon Happy’s diner by mere coincidence. Why she didn’t take exception to a stranger draped in a clandestine robes, I will never know. Her son was suffering major withdrawal symptoms. Poor thing was barely old enough to travel in a caravan without his mother, and his body was being destroyed by a cocktail of wasteland drugs. Nothing that any subpar nurse couldn’t handle, but still.

She agreed to let me rest for the night when debt collectors arrived. They took me hostage, Maize Dancer came, and well, the rest you already know. Why Maize Dancer chose to put her life on the line for me? I will never comprehend. To be fair, I believe it is something even she cannot grasp. It was a question I mulled over as I watched her rest.

No I will not apologize for what I did to her. It was for her own good.

I kept watch over the unicorn, perched on my seat like a crow over a dying pony. The wounds she sustained were all but healed thanks to my custom potion that I synthesized. Honestly, if I knew she would be so petulant, I’m not sure if I would have used up so many of my reagents to save her ungrateful hide. The ingredients I use are NOT easy to come by you know.

At the break of dawn I noticed something amiss with her. Her eyes began shifting under her lids. Her mouth began quivering. Soon she began tossing and turning violently. It seems our unicorn was having a night terror. I rolled my eyes, pulled my hood forward, and hopped of my seat, walking up to her.

“Wake up.” I said, gently nudging her.

As if on some sort of circadian cue, her eyes slipped open and she shot up, breathing heavily. “Wai- wah?” She was disoriented. I hate it when patients get like this.

“Calm yourself.” I began. “It was just a-”

“You drugged me!” she shouted, scrambling away. The sweaty blanket adhered to her fur. She smelled putrid.

“I sedated you.” I walked back to the desk, pulling my hood down. She already knew what my face looked like, no point in hiding it now.

She took a deep breath, the explosion of anger and fear transforming into something not unfamiliar. “You gave me chems without my consent. Explain how that isn’t a drugging,” she asked calmly, steel in her voice.

I pulled out some herbs from my saddlebag, crushing them with a mortar and pestle “I am a medical professional working under my oath. I will do anything and everything to ensure the physical well-being of my patients.”

“Couldn’t you have left and come back when I was asleep?” she asked running a hoof through her filthy mane. “Not like I would complain if I didn’t know.”

“No.” I responded matter of factly. Tapping the reduced herbs into the bowl I used last night. If anypony from my practice saw me re-using an unsanitized container, I would have been barred from practicing medicine. But I am in no position to waste clean water.

She sighed taking her hoof away with a sour look on her face. “And why not?”

“You seem to be under the false pretense that your right to privacy is a factor in mending your wounds.” I walked up to her, stirring the new concoction in a claw.

“So you did it just so I couldn’t complain.” She responded flatly beginning to squirm to the edge of the mattress.

“I did it to ease the pain. You quieting down was only an added bonus.” I offered her the bowl.

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really expect me to drink that?”

“No.” I splashed the contents of the bowl on her face, not paying heed to the incredulous look she was giving to me.

“What the heck is wrong with you?!” she screamed writhing out of her bedsheets. “You can’t be this freaking inconsiderate.”

“You’re right.” I answered, putting away my things in a saddle bag. “Maybe next time I should light up my horn to get a good look-see under a ghoul’s hood. That will show her.”

“Ok, if you’re gonna be like that-”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Is everything alright in there?” Happy called.

I gave Maize a quick scowl and turned towards the door. “Of course, we were just coming down to greet you.”

“Oh, is she awake?.” The mare laughed behind the door. “Smile and I are throwing something together for you two.”

Maize Dancer smiled awkwardly “That’s fine. You don’t have to-”

“No back talk!” Happy chided. “It’s the least we can do.”

I sighed. “Alright, we’ll be downstairs soon.”

With that, the mare left. Maize and I looked at each other uncomfortably. It was clear, we didn’t enjoy each other’s company. And the prospect of sitting down and prolonging our interaction did not strike my fancy.

With a deep sigh, she walked up to me until our faces were a hair’s length apart. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I don’t like you. I REALLY don’t like you. Truth be told, saving your ungrateful hide feels like the biggest mistake I’ve made in a long long time. I don’t want to see your mug ever again.” To the point. I almost admired that. “But, I’m a guest and Happy seems nice. So you and I are going to walk downstairs. Greet Happy, be nice to her kid, indulge in whatever they have waiting downstairs for us, and leave. You walk in one direction. I walk the other. The end. Agreed?” She offered me a hoof.

I looked at it and then her, making no attempt to hide my suspicion. But with a reluctant claw, I accepted and we shook. “Agreed.”

With that conundrum resolved, Maize Dancer stepped back and squeezed her mane. “Good. Now help me get this gunk off. I don't care if it helps with the healing.”

“No.” I answered.

“Oh come on!” The unicorn yelled at the breach of our trust. “We had a truce!”

“That’s not potion.” I said, scooping some of the remains of the substance in the bowl.

“Then what is it?” She grinded her teeth with mounting ire.

“Hair conditioner.” I answered, rubbing a claw full through the feather side of my head.

“Why did you-”

“You smell putrid.”

After a few minutes of sorting ourselves out, Maize and I made our way downstairs. We smelled of Lavender. Maize Dancer’s mane had adopted a buoyant property, bobbing up and down as she walked, something she was clearly growing fond of if the little bobs and tilts of her head were any indication. We did our best to avoid eye contact to honour our little agreement.

As we neared the diner entrance. My beak caught scent of something rather nostalgic. “That can’t be right...”

Maize Dancer raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?”

I shook my head, pushing the door open. “I don’t know why, but I smell-”

“PANCAKES!” a young colt burst out from behind the counter, a plate full of flat confections on his back. The hollows under his eyes had grown lighter than the last time I saw him. Good.

“My own recipe.” Happy bragged as she pulled out a jar full of some purple substance from under the counter.

Maize was looking between the two quizzically. “What’s a pancake?”

“Delicious!” the colt answered ecstatically, plopping the plate in front of the unicorn. “Dig in.”

Maize Dancer took a bite out of the confection, her eyes lighting up instantly. “This jam is made of Tarberries. How did you get your hand on tarberries? You can’t get this, not without losing a couple of hooves to the merchant sellin’ it.”

“We grow it out back.” Happy pointed a hoof outside. “Took me and my late hubby years to get it right.”

Maize Dancer took another bite speaking as she chewed. “Never heard of anypony managin’ to just grow them. Must make yah a tidy profit.”

“Not really, It takes a lot of berries to make the jam. You’re the first pony out of my family to have a taste of the stuff.”

“You didn’t have to do that for us.” Maize smiles apologetically.

“Nonsense.” Happy rubbed a hoof on her sons mane. “If it weren’t for you two, me and mine would have been dead.”

Maize laughed awkwardly. “You took down two of them, I was pretty useless.”

“The third would have ended me.” The earth pony mare chortled. “Now shut up and keep eating.”

()()()()()

Hey Gwen, how long are you gonna hog the… Oh hey, you’re still talkin’ about Happy and her kid. Yes my little ponies, pancakes are still a thing. So head on down to the Red Racer Diner, and eat like a prewar king. Hey I Rhymed! Also, could you tell’em-

IN YOUR OWN TIME MAIZE DANCER.

()()()()()

As I was saying, She took another large bite out of her pancake, her eyes narrowing.

“Something bothering you?”

The unicorn stuck her tongue out, a white seed sitting cozily on her taste buds.

“Ohohoho!” Happy looked at the seed with great intrigue. “You just found yourself a seed!”

“Is that important?” The unicorn spat. It landed on the table.

“Depends.” Happy chuckled, turning to me expectantly. “Why don’t you take a bite?”

I stared at my batch, I could tell Smile had made it. Several pancakes were singed from the edges and misshapen, unlike Maize Dancer’s batch. I sighed. Food doesn’t sustain me anymore. Giving me any rations is the practical equivalent of pouring distilled water on dry concrete expecting rutabagas to sprout. I didn’t want to make a fuss, though. With all the refinement I could muster without proper cutlery, I took a small bite out of the pancake.

If my tongue could register anything resembling taste, it would have been absolutely salivating. The few functioning tastebuds I had left tingled with excitement. It was so good, I almost didn’t notice when my beak bit down on something hard. With my claw, I fished it out and lo and behold, another seed.

“Another seed!” Smile held his head with her hooves as though trying to keep it from shooting off her shoulders. “Do you know what this means?”

“You need to invest in a strainer?” Maize suggested, eagerly accepting my batch when I passed it to her

“No- I mean yes. Beside the point. It means you two are gonna be lifelong friends!”

The unicorn choked on her mouthful. “Wah?”

“You’ll have to forgive the little scuttlebug” The colt’s mother cooed, roughing his hair. “He just gets excited.”

I placed my seed next to Maize Dancer’s seed. “A rather arbitrary thing to say, don’t you think?”

“Old pony legend.” Happy stroked Smile’s hair. “They say that when Luna came home from her exile, Celestia made pancakes for her. She was so excited to have her sister back, she botched up the batter. ‘Dropped a couple pumpkin seeds in it. When Celestia served it, both found the seeds and kept them. The two loved each other after that till the day they died”

“Quite the story.” I remarked off-handedly.

“Just a legend, to keep foals from fighting with each other.”

Maize wiped her mouth after scarfing down the last of the flat cakes. “I liked it.”

Happy pulled her foal closer. It seems her little story made her crave rapport with her son. “Well regardless, keep those seeds. They’re good luck.”

Maize Dancer and I gave each other a look. She gestured me to take it, although hesitantly. I complied reluctantly. The rest of the morning we made small pleasantries. Although Maize Dancer and I didn’t make any eye-contact, we had an understanding. Luckily Happy and her son had a knack for keeping a conversation from meandering to a halt. They were even polite enough to not pester me over my ghoulism. A model family in the wasteland, if there is such a thing.

I did however, ask them something that was close to becoming of a top priority for me. “Happy, do you have anything of the irradiated variety.”

“Nope.” She thumped a hoof on her chest. “I only sell the highest quality product.”

Maize Dancer looked at me quizzically. “Why do you need something with rads.” It was the first time she asked me anything in a while.

“My form of ghoulism calls for exposure to radiation every now and again, or I start developing adverse symptoms” I stroked my scarf.

“Well, it's not hard finding the stuff out there in the wastes.” Happy gazed out the window. “Go out for a stroll. You’ll come across it eventually.”

I nodded, not liking her answer. There was a worrying lack of radiation in these parts.

A few hours of chatter and one last check up on Smile later, we decided to bid them adieu. I don’t know why I followed Maize Dancer to her wagon. I should have just stuck to the main road. Maybe I wanted to make sure she made a full recovery. Either way, she did not object.

“Well Gwen,” the unicorn began, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“It seems so Maize Dancer.” I offered a claw. I was not fond of her, but manners maketh the mare. That phrasing makes no mention of griffons, I am aware. She looked at my claw trying to hide how she was relieved to be rid of my presence. But still mustered the decorum to shake, albeit with lack of vigour.

I nodded to her and began walking. For some reason I expected her to wait a few minutes before she hawled her cart out of the parking lot.

She didn’t.

I tried to pretend she was not there as I made my way out, but the creaking of her unoiled wheels did not help. Nevertheless, I persevered, waiting for us to get to the main road so we could part ways. I admit, saying farewell at the parking lot was an ill-calculated move I wouldn’t have made it in my prime. But what is the weight of my sin here?

We arrived at the main road and I breathed a sigh of release knowing the cart’s infernal creaking would eventually die down.

It didn’t.

As the small roadside diner was left behind to disappear into the horizon the metallic torture of that sound refused to cease. I recall thinking that she would take the soonest exit but as we passed it she continued on as I ignored her in my march. Eventually I heard her familiar voice to my simultaneous relief and chagrin. “So... where ya headed?”

“We’ll part ways, eventually.” I answered not bothering to face her. “This highway is known to branch out along the way.”

Some minutes later, we passed a highway exit. The carriage’s did not meander to a different path. Several minutes later, we reached another exit. The creaking persisted. An hour passed and we had passed fourteen forks along the way.

“Uh... Gwen?” She called out as the creaking procession of her wagon hastened, it’s noisy cycle growing in volume.

“Yes Maize Dancer?” I answered, no attempt to hide my chagrin.

“I’m headed up to Humdrum, so if we’re goin’ the same way one of us has gotta wait for a bit or start talkin’ to the other.” she chirped over my shoulder. “Heck I can just give you a ride, you weigh what, a hundred and fifty macs?”

“...Is Humdrum far South?”

“About a couple days travel.”

I sighed. “One hundred and seventeen macs.”

“Well... it ain’t much trouble for me to give you a lift down that way.” The hesitance in her voice was palpable.

I brushed some dust off my scarf. Waiting was something I could not afford to do. I had already wasted too much time tending to Maize. “I don’t suppose you can wait an hour or so for my sake, would you?”

“Not in good conscience, an hour’s a long time for somethin’ to go wrong. What say you, I know I’ve got a massive blindspot, besides one half-dead bird out alone ain’t much of a threat.” She seemed to be warming up to the idea as she spoke.

I ran a claw through my feather side of my head, my hood slipping back. “We travel together then”

“Alright...”

With our new arrangement properly established, we kept walking. Truth be told, the awkwardness of it all didn’t subside from admitting we were sticking close now. Every now and then, I would catch Maize staring at my skull or she would catch me looking over one of the myriad scars she had accumulated.

I am not in my prime anymore. But it only takes an eye with a modicum of training to tell she made plenty use of factory produced healing potion. That paired with the scars from what I can only assume were impromptu self surgeries, and we have a pony who needs long-term therapy and treatment if she wanted to stay out of a wheelchair by her forties. That’s not even brushing the obvious symptoms of recreational drug use.

“Somethin’ up?” She asked, noting that I had examined her for a second too long.

“Nothing.” I lied. “My eyes just tend to wander.”

She gave me a cheeky smirk. “You were checking out my flank weren’t you?”

And thus began my arduous side-odyssey of dealing with Maize Dancer’s various sexual misconducts. I’m not saying this will come up often. I’m saying keep a tally. Where was I? Right. “When was the last time you saw a physician, Maize Dancer?”

“Uh… you obviously?”

“Before me.” I answered, my chagrin spiking momentarily.

“Didn’t get any holes I couldn’t plug myself recently, so not for a few months. I only go see the doc when I’ve been shot, need to top up on potion, or if I get a case of the sniffles.”

“Mhmmmmm.” Thirties. She will be in a wheelchair by her thirties.

I could go on about that day, and I am sure some would take joy out of the awkwardness I endured from SEVEN HOURS of dead silence and aborted attempts at small talk. But, it seems prudent to hurry things along lest I start gathering cobwebs… again.

Night fell and Maize fell asleep in her cart. I decided to perch on the roof, staring at the cloud cover. The only thing to keep me company was the melody of the breeze and Maize Dancer’s loud snoring. When you get to my age you know how to wait away the march of time. Contrary to Happy’s supposition, we encountered no sources of radiation in our path. I hadn’t gone this long without exposure in decades. Was I getting sloppy? I wouldn’t be surprised if I was. I’m not in my prime anymore.

A few hours before dawn I heard whimpering from inside the cart. Peering through the front window, I found Maize Dancer tossing and turning in her mattress. She was having nightmares again. I didn’t bother waking her. She was not my patient anymore.

What did however catch my attention was a faint noise coming from the distance. It was light, but continuous like the pitter patter of a light drizzle, or the scampering of small rodents through the royal gardens…

Or hoofsteps. Light surreptitious hoofsteps. I bit my index talon in worry. Did I really burn enough time for them to catch up with me? I was sure I had gathered a good deal of distance. As non-chalantly as I could look. I leaned over the roof and knocked at the small round window overlooking Maize Dancer and her mattress.

She yelped awake before gathering herself. “Gwen? What time is it?”

“I need to talk to- are you… are you wearing a nightgown?”

She answered rubbing her eyes. “yuh-huh,”

“Why do you- Nevermind. I need to talk with you urgently.”

“Okay.” she let loose another yawn as she flicked on an arcane lamp with her magic and with that, the soft scampers turned into fast scrabbling as whomever was sneaking up figured out they’re cover had been blown.

“We’re being followed!” I yelled, snapping Maize out of her daze.

She nodded muzzily as she opened the window. “How many’s out there?”

“I can’t say.” It was a tight squeeze, but griffons are a very flexible species. “Do you have a plan?”

She pointed at a shotgun mounted on the wall beside the door sitting at about head height. At first, I thought it was a gauche attempt at decor, but it didn’t take long to notice the wire wrapped around the trigger that disappeared into the latch-lock of the door.

“Help me with that couch.” The unicorn ordered, liberating her small beam pistol from it’s holster on the wall. I had little reason to disobey. We climbed the ladder and pushed the couch opposite to the door. Now it was only a matter of waiting as the hoofsteps became louder and louder.

A loud voice thundered outside. “If you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna come out with no weapons.”

Maize Dancer was quick to reply, as she fiddled with the netting above us that prevented a myriad objects from falling and crushing us with her magic. “Sure, once you raider pisswhiskers come to the sharp realization that what you’re askin’ NEVER WORKS!!”

“You got till the count of three before I bust open the door!”

“You sure you wanna? When you burst down that door, I’m gonna unleash such whoopin’ your great gran mama’s gonna feel it, and she’s already dead”

“I warned ya.” He roared and rammed through the door triggering the shotgun trap. It seems Maize Dancer is quite the merciful soul as the lead in his cranium granted him a swift albeit messy death. Despite all preconceived notions grey matter has much more colour than you would think. Especially when it has been violently exposed to air.

“YOU KILLED JUGS!” Another voice screamed from outside. “YOU’RE FUCKING DONE!”

“How good is your throwing arm?” Maize Dancer asked me with a little put upon sigh as if she were a pony stuck in traffic two centuries ago, plucking a pouch full of smoke bombs from the netting above.

Maybe in my prime. “Uh- not my area of-”

“No time.” she said flatly as she bequeathed the pouch to me. “I need you t’throw that out the door as hard as you can. While I give cover fire. Got it?” I gave a minute nod before ducking under gun fire. Maize Dancer returned the favour with her own. “Any time this century Gwen!”

I raised my head and ducked under some more bullets flying over head. If I were in my prime this wouldn’t be such a chore. Suddenly the hail of bullets stopped. It seems our assailants needed to reload. Taking the opportunity, I raised my arm back and flung it at the interlopers. But for some reason, the pouch did not follow.

I looked back to see it hovering inches away from the ground under Maize Dancer’s telekinetic grasp. “Gwen, what the fuck?!”

I didn’t have time to answer as the flurry began again. “I-I don’t-” I was interrupted as the barrage of bullets began once more.

Maize looked at me than the entrance. “No time for that. Try again.”

I nodded and raised my arm back once more, making sure the pouch stayed tight in my grip. I shot my arm forward expecting the damn thing to smash against the opposite wall. But as you can tell, I am no athlete, and my muscle memory dictates if I hold on to something twice, say a scalpel, I do not loosen my grip. Ergo, do not be colored surprised when I say the smoke pouch hit the edge of the couch, immediately setting it off.

“GWEN! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Maize coughed, jumping out of the cover.

My vision was compromised and I needed an out. I crawled keeping out of the gun fire as best as I could. “I’m a thinker, not a fighter!”

“Really!? Sweet Celestia! you know what good enough. Help pull the hatch!”

“What Hatch?” I yelled, falling forward as I realized I had made it all the way to the exit.

Getting my bearings together, I looked up to find two ponies with firearms looking down at me confused. “Uh.... Hooves in the air?”

I complied. Both of our assailants were ponies. They were too clean to be raiders, They didn’t seem to be the affiliated with the ponies I was running from, given the shock in their eyes when they got a good look at my face. The female unicorn nudged the male earth pony to fish out my acquaintance.

But as soon as he touched the cart, Maize Dancer’s voice erupted from inside. “Not another step closer you raider jerk wads! Or by the sisters I swear, you’re gonna regret it.”

“We came here on behalf of Wood Jug.” The female answered with admirable level-headedness.

There was a short silence. “Remind me?”

“The stud who’s brain you decided to decorate your house with.”

“Well he’s gathering flies now, so you can beat it.”

“Not so fast princess.” She answered, her eyes narrowing. “Or should I say, Madame Maize Dancer”

There was another silence, a longer silence. When Maize Dancer finally spoke, to my confusion it was as though she was possessed by a Duesselhoof Gypsy. “Ze fool has parted ways, and is facing ze judgement of ze sisters. He shall find himself unable to pay his debt to you from ze beyond. What business do you seek with ze Madame.”

“We know you’re a con-artist.” She rolled her eyes. “And we want our caps.”

“...If it is caps you seek, then turn to-”

“Enough with accent!” The earth pony banged his hoof on the cart.

“Fine! You want the caps? I spent them at Mercury's Fashions!”

“WHAT?!” both screamed.

“All the caps are back where yah started.”

“That’s what you should have told jug when he wasn’t smear on the wall.“ The mare spat close to my bad hind leg. “We’re still gettin’ paid for our work.”

“You can take whatever's in his bags and be on your way.” I could tell she was nervous.

“Not happenin’ toots.” She nodded at her companion who stepped inside. “He promised us caps in the three digit figure.”

“Uh… Boss?” he began. “She’s holding a landmine.”

“And?”

“Her hoof is pretty close to the button.”

“Big deal. She won’t follow through on it. Con-artists don’t have it in’em.”

“You really wanna take that bet?” Maize Dancer began. “I’ll splatter the whole lot of us across this land.”

“Don’t try to impress me, bitch.” The mare began. “You don’t have the nerve for it.”

“Try me.” Maize Dancer said. I noticed her voice crack. I think our unicorn assailant did as well.

She pushed me inside with a heavy hoof. Then as though waltzing into a prewar barbershop, she walked inside past her cohort. She came to a stop a foot away from Maize Dancer who stood upright, the minefield firm in one hoof, the other was inches away from the red button.

“Maize Dancer” I insisted, ”I implore you to reconsider.”

“Shut it, Gwen.” she exclaimed with venom, eyes locked on the mare in front of her. Suffice to say, she blamed this whole fiasco on me. To be fair though, her ire was not entirely unfounded.

The unicorn assailant’s horn lit up a purple hue. Maize Dancer brought her hoof closer to the trigger. A poorly timed hiccup could have set it off. With a telekinetic grasp, she slowly slipped the landmine away from Maize Dancer’s hoof. Once it was in her reach, she latched the safety back on. Maize Dancer stood herself back on her front legs, a look of defeat in her eyes.

With a swift blow to the side of the head, Maize Dancer fell to her side. The unicorn assailant turned to her cohort. “Tie them up and keep watch. We head back in the morning.”

As the earth pony pulled a rope out of his saddle bag, Maize Dancer turned her gaze towards me. Allow me to correct myself, her glare towards me. Till this day, among other things, that mare never let me live what transpired down.

If I am being honest with myself, I can’t really say I blame her.