“Turns out that when you're with folks you care about, you don't have to do much to make that time memorable. Even the simplest of activities can take on a whole lotta meanin'!” - Applejack

Applejack awoke to the sound of trickling water, muffled music, and the feeling of cold wet cement beneath her. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by her own face. Startled, she scrambled to back away and suddenly hit a concrete wall. Getting a better look at her surroundings, she could tell that she was in an alleyway.

As she looked closer, she could see that what she saw that was her own face was actually a poster on the ground, dirty and ragged. On it were the words, “Ministry of Wartime Technology is here for YOU!”

As Applejack looked closer, she saw that her opposite image was wearing a brown overcoat, and her hair didn’t look as lively as it should. Behind her in the image were other ponies wearing strange armor, nothing like Equestria’s Royal Guard. Somethin’ smelled rotten to her, and it weren’t no bad apples.

As she warily exited the alleyway, she saw the bare bones of what used to be society, abandoned buildings as far as she could see. However, she noticed that the building she was next to seemed to be the only active one out of all the deserted ones she could see at the moment. Suspicious, she only peeked her head in, seeing a surprising sight.

The room inside was mostly intact, and filled with plenty of ponies as well. Whatever kind of establishment it was, it looked pretty friendly to her. She could tell that a lot of hard work went into keeping it running, as she could notice the floor was neatly swept, the counters still looked pretty shiny and the lights were still working, albeit a solo one dangling from the ceiling. On the counter, there sat an old radio, playing music. The voice sounded a little familiar to Applejack, but she couldn’t tell who it was..

Stepping in the rest of the way through the entryway, she could see a few eyes darting to look at her direction, making her feel nervous, but that was probably just some ponies being a bit curious. She had helped save Equestria a few times, and no doubt some would recognize her. At least, that was her reasoning.

She made her way over to the bar counter, sitting upon one of the stools. She then spoke up, trying to act casual. “Uh, hey, Ah couldn’t help but notice the destruction outside? Any idea what happened?”

“It rained,” a gray unicorn said, turning off the radio. He then proceeded to clean out a glass with magic and a cloth.

“Really hard,” a large tan-colored hellhound said, coming out of the closet in the back.

Applejack, stunned at the sight of the large beast, said, “What the hay is that?”

The unicorn, looking to Applejack with his green eyes, then looking to the hellhound, smiled and replied, “Oh, didn’t ya hear about that new species runnin’ amock? That right there’s the rare hairless monkey.”

The hellhound rolled his eyes. “Ha ha ha, pony very funny.”

Applejack shook her head, then smiled nervously. “Pardon me. Ah wasn’t thinkin’ fer a minute. Ah’ve just never seen a big feller like you before, except maybe a diamond dog. Y’all wouldn’t happen to be cousins, would ya?”

The hound looked to the unicorn, who looked back, both looking a little confused. The hellhound simply ignored the question and grabbed the broom he had brought out of the closet with him, proceeding to sweep the floor.

“You at least gonna tell me yer name?” Applejack asked, watching the hellhound walk further away. Obviously he didn’t want to be near her.

The silver-maned unicorn cleaning his glass walked up to the bar counter. “That’s just the help. Doesn’t ever really talk much, but when he does, it’s an insult, just like me. I’m Wisecrack, by the way.”

Applejack smiled. “Well, I’m Applejack. Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have a map, would ya, or at least know where I am?”

“Well, yer on the sunny beaches of Horseshoe Bay,” he replied sarcastically.

Applejack was certain this pony was going to give her a bit of trouble “Can you be serious fer a moment?”

“Sure, sure, when Discord returns,” Wisecrack replied.

Now this was annoying. Applejack didn’t want to stick around longer than she had to. “Ah’m serious. Ah really don’t know where this is.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” Wisecrack’s grin spread wide across his face. “We’re on the moon. You’ve been banished. Been eating all of Luna’s cookies, naughty mare, you.”

Applejack, noticing all the empty chairs and tables in the establishment, replied, “Oh, gee, these are some funny jokes. No wonder this place is boomin’.”

Wisecrack’s smile vanished, looking quite surprised. “Alright. I see what you’re getting at. We’re in Manehattan.”

Applejack, sighing, was nearly fed up. “Yer still lyin’.”

Wisecrack, raising a brow, replied, “No, I’m not. This really is Manehattan. Not sure if you just came out of a stable and they didn’t teach you anything, but the bombs dropped two-hundred years ago.”

Applejack, realizing the change in this pony’s attitude, could tell that he was telling the truth, or at least, he thought he was. She looked back at the entryway, remembering all the abandoned buildings. “So… yer sayin’ that this is still Equestria?”

“Unless ya want me to say we’re in the zebra lands, then yes,” Wisecrack answered, a bit concerned about this mare’s level of education.

Applejack’s blood ran a little cold. “Ah, uh, Ah need some cider…”

Very quickly, the unicorn used his magic to grab a small green glass bottle, then slid it across the bar to Applejack, the bottle stopping just short of the edge.

Upon seeing this, Applejack said, “Uh, you didn’t need to do that. Ah don’t even have any bits on me right now.”

“It’s on the house. You look like you’ve seen a ghoul,” Wisecrack replied.

Applejack smiled a bit. “Uh, thanks,” she replied, and tipped back her head a little, drinking some of the cider. Something seemed a little off with it. There was a bit more taste to it, but she wasn’t sure what it was. It was also familiar as well. “Hey, uh, where’d you get this?”

“I get my shipments from the eastern traders. They’re pretty well-guarded, but they’re pretty expensive. I normally charge a little higher for this cider, too. It’s a Sweet Apple Acres brand.”

“That’s funny. Ah don’t remember it bein’ this strong,” said Applejack.

“Whaddya mean? It’s apple cider. It’s always been this strong,” replied Wisecrack, putting his finally-cleaned glass under the counter. Applejack was about to object, but was then interrupted by the sound of a pony clearing their throat.

“Hey! Guess who’s heeeere!~” A pony shouted behind her. Applejack turned her head to see a gray earth pony stallion with a pony-tailed brownish red mane and red rose-colored eyes. Upon seeing his rear end, it was obvious that his cutie mark was a diagonal violin. With only one look at Applejack, the gray pony flashed a small grin, his pearly whites dully reflecting the dim light in the room. “My, my… who’s this lovely mare?” He said in a country accent.

Applejack didn’t like the tone in this stallion’s voice one bit. “Lovely mare?”

“Pardon my manners,” said the gray stallion. “I forgot to introduce myself. Name’s Fiddler, and I’m the greatest musician in all of the badlands.”

Applejack immediately doubted this claim. “Greatest musician, huh?”

“That’s right! I’ve travelled all over, from Ponyville, to Manehattan, and even to Cloudsdale!” Fiddler claimed.

Suddenly, another country voice rang out, this time a mare’s “Fibber! You lyin’ again?!”

Almost instantly after, Fiddler was smacked in the back of the head with a hoof. “Gah! Fuck! I was just braggin’!”

The mare, a partially-yellow-furred and leathery pegasus with cracked glasses who looked way too old to even be alive, squinted her eyes at him. “You ninny! Cloudsdale doesn’t even exist anymore! I thought I raised you better!”

Applejack looked over the mare’s features, noticing that her mane was mostly gone, with only bits of light blue remaining. Her tail, however, was completely gone, with only the nub left.

“Y-Yes, Nana,” he whimpered.

“What was that?!” she asked loudly in a shrill tone.

“I SAID YES, NANA!” Fiddler yelled. He then looked at Applejack. “Sorry, she’s hard o’ hearin’.”

“The lards are gearin?!” The mare named Nana cried out.

Applejack raised a hoof. “Uhh... Cloudsdale doesn’t exist anymore?”

Nana laughed. “That’s a dumb question! Of course not! It’s been gone since the megaspells dropped! I should know, I was there!”

“Not this story again,” Fiddler whispered.

“I’mma tell my story, don’t you fuckin’ interrupt!” Nana shouted. She wrapped a wrinkly foreleg around Applejack and pulled her close. “I was right there! Right in Cloudsdale when the Megaspells darn dropped. My glasses dropped off the edge, and wouldn’t ya know it? It was fate! I flew far enough down to get ‘em that I barely avoided the blast! My wings were singed, and I fell alllll the way down the ground, luckily landin’ on a hay bale! Ya shoulda seen it! Green mushroom clouds going FWOOSH!!! Buncha pegasi fallin’ from the skies and hittin’ the ground, splattin’ like watermelons!”

The very thought made Applejack shudder. “How long ago was this?”

“A MILLION BILLION TRILLION YEARS!” Nana replied. “Give or take a few weeks… Or was it yesterday…? No, wait, I bought new sticks fer muh drum set yesterday from Beat Beat…”

“Nana, the megaspells happened two-hundred years ago,” Fiddler corrected.

“Really?!” Nana asked. “I coulda sworn… But then again, it was so long ago. Bein’ a ghoul don’t help, either. Is a wonder I’m still sane... I never did find muh glasses.”

“Nana, they’re on yer face,” said Fiddler.

“OH MAH CELESTIA, HOW’D YA FIND ‘EM?!” Nana shouted, eyes wide.

“Forgive Nana,” said Fiddler to Applejack. “She’s raised me ever since she found me on the streets and her mind just kinda deteriorated o’er the years.”

“How’s she even still… you know, alive?” Applejack asked, a bit shocked. Granny was old, but not this old… or was she?

“She’s a ghoul. You must be from a stable if you don’t know what that is,” Fiddler remarked.

“I’m not from around here. I don’t even think I’m in the right time,” Applejack replied. “What’s a ghoul, anyhow?”

“Um… Think of it like a zombie in those old black and white movies,” said Fiddler. “Nana here’s one of ‘em, and there’s different types, but uh… I don’t think you need to worry about her too much. She ain’t gonna eat ya anytime soon. Enough about that, though. Got a name?”

“Applejack,” Applejack answered. Fiddler tilted his head, a bit confused, but then just nodded.

“Alright then,” He said as he turned to Nana. “The others need help?”

“They should be fine,” assured Nana. “Smooth Rhythm’s just arguin’ with Dusty Bass again. Those two can never get along.”

“You were the one who was off beat,” shouted a white unicorn mare with green eyes walking in. In her magic, which was the same color as her auburn hair, was an old keyboard with at least two keys missing, having been replaced with rotten wood that had been carved to fit into the empty spots. “My playing is perfect, and I refuse to be told otherwise. I’ve been with this keyboard for ten years, and I have improved ceaselessly.”

She turned to look at Fiddler. “Ready for the show?”

Fiddler nodded. “All set, Smooth,” he said, flashing a smile, which then turned into a frown when he heard the deep voice that Dusty Bass possessed.

“It’s either you or Nana,” said a midnight-black earth pony stallion as he walked in. His black coat was complemented by his silvery mane and yellow eyes. “I don’t mess up, and Fiddler was playing in the same rhythm as me.”

“Y’all sayin’ muh beat’s off?!” Nana yelled. She looked very offended, and it reminded Applejack a lot of Granny Smith whenever something went wrong with a shipment of apple cider.

Fiddler released a sigh and looked at Applejack. “Sorry about that. Okay, look, here’s the truth. I don’t have a cap to my name. I’m just yer average fiddle player who likes to uhh… mingle. Alot,” he said. His eyes’ gaze suddenly fixated on something behind her. “Mmph… If you’ll excuse me.~”

“What the hey? What are ya doin’?” Applejack asked as he walked away.

She then saw him grinning as he approached a black-maned mare from behind. Then, he casually said, “Hey there, missy.~ I ain’t never seen a beautiful mane such as yers.~ I bet there ain’t nopony whose mane can compare.”

The mare turned around, smirked, then spoke in a stallion’s voice. “Thanks. Sorry I’m a stallion, but maybe we can get a drink sometime.”

Fiddler was immediately spooked. “What in the--?! You’re a stallion!”

The black-maned stallion seemed a little offended. “Got a problem with that?”

“Uhh… No, but I’m not really into sta--” Fiddler was about to say, but…

“Not into stallions. I get that alot. Maybe you shouldn’t always begin your conversations with the obvious intent to get somepony into bed with you. Or maybe that’s just your game,” replied the stranger.

Applejack couldn’t hold in her laughter. “Ah’m sorry, Fiddler, but he’s got a point. Keep doing that and you’ll make the same mistake twice.”

Fiddler blushed an intense red. “I… I knew he was a stallion. I was just complimenting. Can’t I compliment someone?”

“So ya like stallions?” Applejack asked.

“I do not,” Fiddler replied. “No offense,” he said to the stranger. “I’ve just never seen the appeal.”

The stranger stallion gave a smirk, “Well, if you change your mind…”

Fiddler seemed very uncomfortable. Applejack could see it in his eyes. “Hm… Ah really don’t think he’s tryin’ to offend,” she said to the stranger.

“That’s fine. I’m not even looking. I was just here for a drink,” replied the black-maned stallion.

Applejack motioned with a hoof for Fiddler to follow her back to the others. “Hey, c’mon, now. Don’t need to cause a scene.”

“Sorry, I was just a little surprised. Third time it’s happened,” Fiddler said as they both walked.

“Do you try to pick up mares all the time?” Applejack asked.

“No,” he scoffed. “Just when we’re stoppin’ fer our performances.”

Applejack tried her best to figure out what was fib and what was truth with this pony. “So, that’s a yes?”

Fiddler bit his lower lip, then confessed. “Fine. Yes, I do. But ya wouldn’t understand.”

“No, not really,” Applejack replied. “Ah don’t typically try to ask out stallions, cuz Ah’m often busy, and Ah’m just not ready yet for commitment. Muh brother’s a different story. Ah reckon’ it’s just cuz they’re both kinda stayin’ busy.”

“Commitment? I don’t go for that. It’s usually a one-and-run with me,” Fiddler said. Applejack was a little concerned with the type of language these ponies were speaking. They were all so open about this stuff. Is this really how ponies here spoke?

“So… how many have you uhh…” Applejack was afraid to hear the answer.

“Uhh… Dozens,” Fiddler answered.

“So it’s none,” Applejack deciphered.

“Shh. Don’t need nopony here knowin’ I’m a virgin,” Fiddler whispered.

Applejack shook her head a little. “Oh, c’mon. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Just means ya haven’t found the right pony. Ah think you’ve just been goin’ about it all wrong.”

“And who are you? You some kinda love guru?” Fiddler asked, looking skeptical.

“Ah’m just a pony with common sense,” she answered. “Most stallions know ya can’t just waltz up to a mare with pickup lines and actin’ like yer so gosh-dang important. Ya gotta get to know ‘em first. What yer doin’ is just plain… counterproductive.”

Fiddler squinted his eyes a little. “You were about to say stupid, weren’t you?”

“Ah’d rather not say that,” Applejack replied. “No sense in bein’ mean to ponies, either.”

“Huh… Yer really not like other ponies around here, are ya?” Fiddler asked.

“Ah don’t think so.” Applejack wasn’t really offended by this. She wasn’t like most ponies here. They seemed so… rude to her, and a little more open with words than what she was used to.

“Fibber! I need my drums! Where’d ya put ‘em?!” Nana shouted.

“Ain’t they outside?” Fiddler asked, walking over to her.

Nana poked her head outside and, sure enough, there were her drums. “Can ya help me roll ‘em inside?”

“I already got it,” said Dusty Bass, going outside. It was only a few seconds later that he rolled them in.

“Careful with those. Those are the fourth ones we went through this year,” Nana warned. “I don’t wanna have to pay any more caps than I gotta.”

“Nana, these are pre-war drums. Of course they’re gonna break. It’s just a matter of when. I doubt they’ll last ‘til next month,” Dusty commented as he began setting them up.

Fiddle went outside and brought in a violin, carrying it by the neck in his teeth. He went over to the drums, which were now set up by the bar counter, and sat down, placing himself properly with the chin rest.

He started plucking the strings, checking for any wry notes that sounded off key to him. Of course, he found at least one, then he turned the pegs that were in the neck of the violin. He finally held up his bow, then moved it across the strings, the tool gliding gently across with no imperfections, making the instrument release a few satisfactory notes of music.

“Whoo!” Fiddler suddenly shouted, then started playing a fast-paced solo, complemented by Nana, who thudded her hoof against one of the bigger drums as she got into place. Then, picking up her sticks, she played a beat with them, in rhythm with the solo.

A few patrons in the bar turned their heads to see the show, with one even tapping her hoof on her table. Applejack, admittedly, couldn’t help but do the same. It reminded her of the songs Fiddlesticks used to play at every family reunion.

The other two members of the band simply sat back, looking a little bored as they listened. Smooth levitated her keyboard over to where Fiddler and Nana were playing, her magic pressing down on a few notes in a pattern to add to the beat that was already going.

Dusty Bass stood up. “Unicorns are always showin’ off…”

Smooth Rhythm looked over to him with a smug look on her face. “You jealous you don’t have a horn?”

“Fuck that. Watch this,” he said, walking over to the other two, holding his bass across his back. Once he reached them, he slid the straps, putting the bass guitar in his hooves. He plucked at the strings on his instrument with the tips of his hoof, doing what he could to add to the impromptu musical number. The deep sound of his instrument thudded against Applejack’s eardrums, and overall helped with the mishmash of notes that cascaded across the bar.

Even the hellhound was swaying a little back and forth with his broom, treating it as if one might treat a dance partner. He even leaned forward in a bow, dipping it far down before pulling it back up, leaving Wisecrack to snicker at the actions of his canine companion.

“Slow your beat,” Smooth called out.

“Get good,” replied Dusty.

Fiddler wasn’t even paying attention. He was too enamoured with his own playing to really care. Applejack could feel the vibrations of the music through the very floorboards, which made her question how safe the establishment was if the floor was this loose.

The keyboard’s notes sped up to keep in check with Dusty’s playing. Both Fiddler and Nana also noticed this, playing a little faster. Fiddler didn’t seem to mind, but Nana’s face showed signs of discomfort. From what Applejack could see, it seemed like Nana wasn’t used to this increasing pace. Weren’t drummers supposed to establish the rhythm? Why was Dusty leading it?

Applejack then realized something. This was a classic case of sibling rivalry. Although she wasn’t completely sure if they were siblings, she could still feel the same kind of energy in between Dusty Bass and Smooth Rhythm. Back when Applejack was younger, she and her brother would squabble at times over the pettiest things. This was no different.

“Slow down!” Smooth shouted.

“Get on my level!” Dusty shouted back with a smirk. “That’s what ya said last week to me!”

The beat just kept going faster, up to the point where the notes began to become unintelligible. Inevitably, Fiddler’s bow string snapped, two-hundred years of use having taken a toll, silencing his music, the disturbed look on his face making it obvious he wasn’t expecting this.

Fiddler looked at his poor bow. “Aw, shit,” he said in disbelief. He glared at both Dusty and Smooth, looking angry. “Why y’all always fightin’ all the time?” Fiddler asked, his accent getting a little thicker.

Dusty turned his head up, trying to remain prideful. “I’m just provin’ a point.”

“You’re an ass,” said Smooth to Dusty.

“You did the same thing last week,” Dusty argued.

“And you did it the week before that!” Smooth countered.

“And you did it the week before that!” Dusty deflected.

“QUIET, YA FUCKIN’ NINNIES! YER GIVIN’ ME A HEADACHE!” Nana screeched. “Can’t go one day without hearin’ yer yappin…”

“Sorry, Nana,” said both Smooth and Dusty, both of them looking down.

“Raised ya all fer most o’ yer lives and this is how ya turn out?” Nana muttered. She stepped away from her drum set and settled down on a barstool. “Hmph… What was I angry about again…?”

Applejack walked up to Fiddler. She was a little hesitant to ask, but she still needed answers. “Ah um… Ah don’t want to interrupt yer family quarrels, but by any chance, have you seen any of mah friends?”

“What do they look like?” asked Fiddler.

Applejack tapped her chin a few times. “Well, uhh… Let me think. We’ve got ten ponies, with three of ‘em bein’ alicorns. We also got a dragon, a changeling, and a draconequus.”

Fiddler stared for only a brief moment before saying, “Wow, that sounds like quite the party!”

Applejack smiled as she asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know where Ah might be able to find ‘em, would ya? Ah’m not very familiar with this place.”

Fiddler focused his gaze on a very crudely drawn map on the wall by the bar counter. “Well, if yer wantin’ to find a place to wait for ‘em in, I recommend Tenpony tower. They’ve recently become a kind o’ sanctuary fer ponies who can’t find noplace else to go.”

Applejack looked at the map, inspecting the details. “Where on this map are we, and where is Tenpony Tower?”

Fiddler pointed to the southeast part of the city on the map. “We’re right here, and Tenpony Tower is just a little bit to the northwest, near the center of the city. What’s odd is I remember it bein’ elsewhere, but… maybe that’s just faulty memory.”

“So Ah just gotta walk over there,” Applejack deduced.

Fiddler chuckled. “One does not simply walk through Manehattan.”

“What? Why?” Applejack asked.

“Well, considerin’ y’all got radroaches, ghouls, raiders, and allll sorts of other nasty critters, you’d need at least three things: a partner, a gun, and a steady supply o’ health potions,” Fiddler explained.

“Ah don’t know what a gun is,” Applejack said, raising a brow.

“Really? Were ya livin’ under a rock?” Fiddler questioned.

“Naw. I was raised on a farm,” Applejack clarified. Fiddler blinked several times, but accepted her answer.

“A gun,” Fiddler explained, “is a metal device that goes ‘bang bang’ while makin’ things dead.”

Applejack gave a look of confusion. “Dead?”

“Yeah, dead. How else are ya gonna get those no-good critters off yer back?” Fiddler asked.

“Ah could just uh… run away? Or ask ‘em to leave? Maybe buck ‘em? I’m pretty sure a good kick would be enough to teach ‘em.” Applejack answered.

“Stables don’t have the best education, do they?” Fiddler asked.

“Ah’ve no idea what yer talkin’ about,” Applejack replied.

Fiddler’s eyes darted to the side, his muzzle scrunching up. He looked as if he were thinking something over. “Well… I don’t think I can just let you go out there. I doubt you’d survive on yer own. Hell, I don’t know how you survived so far.”

“Now listen here,” said Applejack. “Ah’ve never been to this place before now, but that don’t mean Ah can’t handle mahself. Ah just kinda woke up in some alley after bein’ sucked through some portal is all. This was just a mistake.”

“Uh huh,” Fiddler replied slowly. He then looked at Nana. “Hey, Nana? Weren’t we headed to Tenpony Tower after tonight?”

“I think we was supposed to go to The Lucky Mare, first, and then Tenpony Tower,” answered Nana.

“Nana, The Lucky Mare was last month,” clarified Fiddler.

Nana rubbed the back of her head, her mind drawing a big blank as she tried to think about it. “Was it? I could’ve sworn otherwise…”

“It’s okay, Nana. Sometimes I forget what I had for breakfast,” Dusty said, trying to reassure her it wasn’t just her sometimes.

“Well, we can head out tomorrow, but tonight, we need to entertain,” reminded Nana. “We still need the caps. Don’t forget that we still gots to buy some more supplies!”

Wisecrack raised a brow. “Mhm… Oh, don’t worry, just slack off. I’ll pay ya anyways,” he said.

“Really?” Smooth asked.

“No,” Wisecrack replied, a smile on his face.

Applejack put a hoof to her chin. “Maybe Ah can help?”

“And what do you know about music, missy?” Nana asked, eyeing Applejack with suspicion. “I ain’t seein’ a trombone, nor a guitar, nor any drum set on ya!”

“Well, naw, but Ah’ve organized a few family reunions, includin’ the music setup,” assured Applejack. “If yer havin’ trouble keepin’ in sync, Ah can help with it.”

“You think you can really get these two to get along?” Nana pointed to both Dusty Bass and Smooth Rhythm.

Applejack smiled as she waltzed over to the two. “Aw, ain’t nothin’ but an old case o’ siblin’ rivalry.”

She wrapped a foreleg around both Dusty and Smooth. “Don’t worry! We can get you two to play together as if y’all were identical twins!”

“If you can get them to get along, I’ll eat a radroach,” commented Fiddler. “How do you plan to do that?”

“By gettin’ them to be honest with each other,” Applejack replied.

“How’s honesty going to help them?” Nana asked.

“You’ll see,” said Applejack. She looked at Dusty and then asked, “When you were playin’ music, why did you speed up?”

“It was my way to get back at Smooth for doing the same thing last week,” Dusty answered, his eyes darting in Smooth Rhythm’s directions. “You know, eye for an eye?”

“And why’d you do it last week?” Applejack asked Smooth Rhythm.

“Because he did it the week before,” Smooth answered.

“Now, hold on a minute. Somepony had to have started it first. Does anypony have anything to say?” Applejack asked.

Smooth Rhythm seemed to be looking away while Dusty just shifted his gaze between Nana and Fiddler.

Applejack pressed a little more. “Dusty. Do you have something to say?”

Dusty clenched his jaw. The stallion looked back at Applejack.

“Dusty,” Applejack said. “C’mon, now.”

“Fine! It was me!” Dusty confessed. “But it was unintentional. I was just… I was playin’ the music, gotta a little too into it, and the next thing I know, Smooth’s gettin’ on my back about it playin’ too fast.”

“You couldn’t just slow down?” Applejack asked.

“I did, but I was prideful. I’ve been playin’ that bass for years. I don’t take criticism well.”

“Hey. I’ll bet Smooth Rhythm’s had her fair share of mistakes. Ain’t nopony perfect. Am I right?” Applejack asked Smooth.

Smooth Rhythm turned up her muzzle. “I don’t make mistakes.”

Applejack gave her a more serious glare, which made Smooth look a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, fine! Yes! I make mistakes!” Smooth admitted.

“Like what?” Applejack asked.

Smooth Rhythm rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I skip notes to catch up with the others…”

“Wait, so I wasn’t going too fast?!” Dusty asked, looking surprised.

Applejack, smiling, patted Dusty on the back and turned to face Smooth Rhythm. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it. As long as yer tryin’ yer hardest, I think they can stand to have a few notes skipped. Practice makes perfect.”

Smooth took a deep breath, then released a sigh. “Yeah… Alright.”

Applejack patted Smooth on the back this time. “Ya feelin’ better now that ya got that off yer chest?”

“You know… I kinda am,” answered Smooth with a small smile.

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

A stream of flames shot past Ember as she swiftly moved to the side. For the past two hours, she had been locked in combat with another dragon, his appearance being similar to Garble’s, but with broader shoulders and bigger, but slightly tattered wings. She was on the outskirts of what appeared to be Manehattan, but she couldn’t really tell. All things pony looked the same to her. The bipedal blue beast in front of her lunged, mouth wide open, full of sharp teeth. Ember just jumped out of the way, her wings propelling her backwards, the enemy’s long muzzle snapping shut, catching nothing but the air.

“What is your problem?! I am the Dragon Lord! You should be listening to me!” Ember shouted with anger.

The dragon snorted. Smoke spewed out from his nostrils as he inched closer. “I don’t care if you’re Princess Celestia herself. You’re in my territory!”

Ember wasn’t going to let this beast push her around. She’d been through too much in the past to let some bozo win. She flapped her wings, sending her up onto the air. She then unleashed her fiery breath, the flames flying against her opponent’s scales. It was no good, though, as he looked unphased. Her flames weren’t hot enough for him to show any respect or fear.

He flapped his own wings, soaring up, the top of his head directly impacting into Ember’s gut and throwing her off guard. The dull pain stuck with her as she scrambled to fly back from this punk. Ember held her claws to her stomach, growling, her sharp teeth bared.

“Pfft! You’re fucking weak!” the opponent shouted. “What kind of dragon are you?!”

Oh, that was the last straw. Ember flew forth, tackling the dragon and dragging him down with her, his body skidding across the rough road’s surface. They both tumbled, with Ember unable to keep flying, the friction of the road slowing her down and causing her to tangle up with him.

They both wrestled, with Ember inevitably on top. “You’re weak!” she shouted before bashing her head against his, her thick skull knocking him out. Panting, she stayed on top of him for a while, slowly regaining her strength before standing back up. “But at least you put up a good fight.”

Dusting off her scales, she looked around her. “Geez… And I thought dragons made a mess. Where are all the ponies?”

The city seemed barren, with no hints of life save for a few giant roaches and this dragon. Ember walked over to what appeared to be an abandoned wagon of sorts on the side of the road. Inside, she could see the bones of a pony. Seeing this made her body tense up a little, but she quickly regained her composure. Something devastating happened here, but what?

She could hear groaning from behind her, her opponent slowly regaining consciousness. This was her cue to leave. She didn’t have any time to waste. She needed to find the others. With a powerful flap of her wings, she took off, looking back to see the dragon sitting up and holding his head, her headbutt having obviously left behind some lasting pain.

She looked on ahead as she flew, and although she had won the battle, she couldn’t help but wonder… “What happened here?”

. . . S t u d y G u i d e . . .

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Level 6 Personnel Has Accessed File #109235-D9.

“Dragons, balefire, and megaspells are three of the worst things to have ever happened to Equestria in my opinion. The Enclave have been experimenting with balefire bombs since the bombings, altering them and going so far as to utilize unethical measures in order to get accurate data, using paid citizens and soldiers as test subjects.

Through these experiments, we’ve been able to deduce many things, the most important being how balefire radiation affects ponies and how it can corrupt their minds. So far, we have only had one case of possible “possession”, and even then, we can still chalk up the incident to brain damage, although it doesn’t explain other things that happened during the incident.

“Other members of the science committee disagree with my hypothesis, and have even gone so far as to mock me, but they fail to realize that, as a scientist, one needs to question everything, and I mean everything.

“During the incident, we were using a regular citizen to test the effects of balefire, as we have done with dozens of previous subjects. Upon exposing them to balefire radiation, we detected unusually high concentrations of necromantic magic, more than the usual amount when releasing balefire radiation.

“At the time, the subject was outfitted with sensors, and we were immediately made aware of their heart failure. Seeing the subject still moving, we were originally going to list the event under ghoulification, but were caught off guard by extra traits, such as the emission of balefire from their eyes.

“What was more interesting to me was that the subject began to speak in an unknown language. From what we could tell, the dialect was partially zebra. Field Study and I had a debate over whether we should dissect the subject or to let it live, but unfortunately, the possession was only present for an hour before leaving, the subject finally dying. All the recorded dialogue was stored away under a higher-up’s authority, out of my own reach. I’m still a bit pissed…

“Although balefire is an enigma at times, we do believe we’ve figured out how we can enhance its devastating effects through [BEEP]. I find it humorous that we can figure out how to create weapons of mass destruction, but we can’t figure out how to fix a coffee machine.”

. . . S t u d y E n d . . .

Applejack tapped her hoof in rhythm with the music as the band played. Fiddler was into it, as well as Nana, Dusty Base, and Smooth Rhythm, all working together in perfect harmony to create a country beat that was hard to defeat.

A few of the customers were dancing with each other, forgetting the troubles of the wasteland for just this one night, moving in tandem with the melody that flowed throughout the room. This was something that made Applejack smile, seeing ponies dancing, having a good time and just letting go of their worries. Applejack felt a twinge of satisfaction knowing she was able to help resolve the problem and allowing the show to go on as planned.

A grunt was sounded besides Applejack. She looked to her left to see the hellhound from earlier, sitting on the barstool next to her. He was nodding his head in cue with the beat, looking at the band. Applejack was a bit unsettled by the sheer size of the creature, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from trying to make conversation.

“So uh, you sure do like music, don’tcha?” Applejack smiled awkwardly. The hound’s eyes gazed upon her, the beast furrowing his brows and tapping his fingers together. He simply grunted once again. Applejack then asked, “You got a name?”

“Rufus,” the large canine sighed, looking annoyed.

“So what’s yer story?” Applejack asked. The hellhound grunted. Applejack then gently nudged his shoulder. “C’mon! No need to be shy!”

Rufus hesitated. “Was separated from my pack. Found this place. Worked here for two months. Knew pony here from before.”

Applejack shifted her position a little on her barstool to get comfortable. “How’d you two meet?”

“Not pony’s business,” Rufus answered.

“Alright, alright,” said Applejack. “Ah won’t press too much. So you and Wisecrack are friends?”

Rufus simply grunted again and got up, walking away, leaving Applejack in her curiosity.

Wisecrack, leaning over the counter, whispered, “I used to know him back when we were both young. He was a pup. I was a foal. Two worlds, but for some reason, same sense of humor.”

“Huh… That’s pretty neat,” Applejack commented.

“Yeah. The really neat thing is, though, was his parents were a buncha walruses,” Wisecrack added.

Applejack raised a brow. “Was that another lie?”

“Not a lie. Just uh… an exaggerated truth,” Wisecrack answered. Then, seeing Applejack’s look of annoyance, added, “Okay, fine. It was just one walrus… and a baboon.”

“Look, if yer not gonna tell me, that’s fine and dandy, but just quit messin’ with muh head?”

“Fiiiine. We were both raised by hellhounds,” Wisecrack said.

“Now Ah know that’s a lie,” said Applejack. However, when she saw Wisecrack’s neutral expression… “Oh, wait… yer tellin’ the truth this time, aren’t ya?” Applejack asked.

“Mhm. After a while, we got separated, mostly cuz a lot of hellhounds don’t like the idea of raisin’ ponies,” replied Wisecrack. “The mum and dad took Rufus while the uncle looked after me. Needless to say I was a bit lonely after that, but I got by. Eventually Rufus and I found each other again just a little over two months ago. I’m hopin’ to catch up, but he seems to have gotten a bit of that stubbornness from his folks.”

“How often do you two talk?” Applejack asked.

Wisecrack turned his head, looking at the shelves on the wall. “Hm… He doesn’t really seem to be interested in talking all that much. I remember when we were smaller, we’d talk all the time. Now he acts just like his folks.”

“Well, that’s a darn shame,” Applejack replied. “Maybe there’s somethin’ we can do about it?”

Wisecrack cracked a smile. “Maybe, but fer now, it’s best to leave him alone. It’s gettin’ late in the night, and he gets grumpier with each passing hour until he falls asleep… One time I caught him at well-past midnight throwin’ toasters at ponies.”

“Was that part a lie?” Applejack asked.

“Hmm… You tell me,” Wisecrack smirked

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

Celestia woke up to the sound of hoofsteps on concrete. Damp air surrounded her, chilling her body. Upon opening her eyes, she was greeted to the horrific sight of jail cells, each holding an alicorn. It was then, to her surprise, that she found herself within her own cell.

“What’s happening…? Where am I?” Celestia asked as she came to stand. She was surrounded by three concrete walls and in front of her, one of rusted iron bars. She tried to remember what happened, and then it came to her like a sharp knife embedding itself in her mind, something that made her wonder how she could have forgotten, even for a moment. She and Luna were fighting a very strange pony who was a little too stab-happy.

Upon her neck was a collar, strapped a little too tightly for her liking. Why was this on her? As she took a step, she felt a dull pain in her left hind leg, taking her mind off the collar. Looking behind her, she could see that it had been bandaged up, splotches of red dotting the white cloth. She remembered having been wounded in her fight earlier.

“She is awake,” said a mare’s voice. Celestia looked ahead of her to see the other alicorn in their cell. The alicorn in question was a dark green, with eyes that seemed to give off a sense of judgement. “You must have been very careless to let some common pony bring you here.”

“Hold on a moment. You’re in the same position as I,” Celestia replied, offending the other alicorn.

“We could have easily escaped had it not been for a minor mishap,” the green alicorn replied.

“Sure,” Celestia replied, feigning sincerity. She looked at the other cells, noting their occupants’ similar appearances. “You’re all alicorns?” Celestia asked.

“Yes,” replied the green one across from her, “but we do not recognize you as one of us.”

“That sounds a little high and mighty, don’t you think?” Celestia noted.

The green one shook her head. “Not that. We mean we do not recognize you at all. Who are you?”

To which Celestia replied with, “You don’t recognize me?”

“We do not,” replied the green alicorn.

“Well, I am Princess Celestia,” replied the solar princess, smiling serenely and unfurling a wing as she gave a small curtsy.

The green alicorn backed up a bit in her own cell, her expression giving off an aura of both confusion and pain.

Upon seeing this, Celestia asked, “Are you alright?”

The green alicorn shook her head. “Yes. We are fine. Just something coming back to us. It is… good to see you again?”

Celestia was a little confused. “You’ve met me before?”

The green alicorn rubbed her temple. “We don’t… I mean, I don’t know?”

A rather violent cough interrupted the conversation as a familiar face opened a door previously unseen and entered, bright light flooding the dark, enclosed space in between the jail cells.

“Wait… You’re the one who attacked my sister and I!” Celestia shouted.

Upon closer inspection, Celestia took note of his dark green coat, not having really paid attention to it during the fight from before. His greasy charcoal-colored mane reflected the light that filtered into the room. He looked at her and gave a rotten grin, his teeth yellowed and chipped in several spots. “Eeeheheheheh! Didn’t think I’d catch ya, didja?!

As Celestia lit up her horn, the unicorn pony chuckled and held up a remote. “Not so fast, missy! One wrong move and I’ll push this button! Then that collar of yours goes kaboom! You’ll be in pieces all over the room!”

Celestia calmed herself, spell fading from her horn as she put a hoof up to her collar. “Tell me where my sister is!” Celestia demanded, more focused on Luna than anything.

“Sister…?” The unicorn seemed confused, then his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! The blue one! She’s in another room. If you wanna see her again, you’ll do whatever I say!”

“What do you want?” Celestia asked, her stern line of sight refusing to move off the unicorn.

“That depends on what the customer wants,” replied the unicorn. “You see, I sell to very unique clientele, stupid ponies who I trick into thinking that alicorn parts can be used to make special potions. Sure, I could sell them other things, but hunting alicorns is too much fun! Gives me that rush of superiority! ‘If you love doing something, never do it for free,’ my ma always told me.”

Celestia stepped back. “Monstrous. You should be ashamed!”

The unicorn cackled. “Shame? In the wasteland? Out here, we do what needs to be done!”

“Best be careful,” said the green alicorn from within her cell. “You’re talking to Princess Celestia.”

“That’s stupid,” said the unicorn, turning to berate the green alicorn. This was when Celestia took her chance. She grabbed the remote in her magic and hovered it over to herself. Turning back and seeing the remote in Celestia’s possession, the unicorn shouted, “Hey! Give that back!”

“I’m sorry,” said Celestia. “Is this yours?” She smiled, then lit up her horn, casting a golden aura around her collar. It suddenly vanished, and a thudding boom was heard coming from outside the room.

The unicorn stared in bewilderment. “What in the…? None of the other alicorns could do that!”

“I think you’ve been misinformed on what alicorns can do,” Celestia said, her golden aura encasing the metal bars, heating them red hot and bending them, metallic screeching filling the room as the bars easily moved at her command. Tossing them aside, she said, “I move the sun, a very large celestial body. Bars are not that hard.” Celestia wore a serious expression as she walked forward, her judging eyes looking down on the unsettled unicorn. “What is your name?” Celestia suddenly asked.

The unicorn stammered, “What? M-My name? Uh… Cash Grab?”

Celestia tsked at him. “Cash Grab, you should be ashamed of your actions. I’m not mad, no. I’m just disappointed. I will have no choice but to give proper punishment.”

Cash Grab walked backwards towards the door leading out of the room. “Stay back! I have a uh,” he suddenly grabbed a metal pipe laying on a wooden crate next to the door in his magic, “I have a weapon!”

Celestia merely grabbed the pipe in her own golden glow, the metal turning bright red before melting into a puddle on the floor. “Tell me where my sister is, and I might go easy on you.”

Cash Grab cowared “Other room! Last cell down the hall!” he frantically shouted.

Celestia turned her gaze towards the cell holding her new green alicorn acquaintance, ripping the bars out of place and dropping all but one with her magic. Celestia then bound the sleasy unicorn within it, wrapping the metal around him and entrapping him. Celestia smirked and said, “I think you need to take a few minutes to think about your actions.”

The green alicorn walked out, a little cautious. Her eyes locked onto Celestia’s and, after a few seconds, the alicorn said, “Thank you.”

Celestia nodded with a smile. “And what is your name?” Celestia asked.

The alicorn hesitantly answered with “Rusty Caravan, I think?”

Celestia tilted her head to the side a little ways. “You think?” she asked. The alicorn nodded, looking like she wasn’t really sure. Celestia, simply wishing to find her sister, disregarded it for now. She’d press into it later. “Come on. I need to find my sister.”

Cash Grab seemed to be very disgruntled. “You’re just going to leave me here?!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Celestia said. “I’ll be back to decide your punishment after I find my sister.” Celestia then started toward the next room while calling back to Rusty, “Are you coming?”

Rusty nodded, then followed Celestia. Upon entering the next room, it was noticed to be almost identical to the prior one, with cells on both sides, and one door on the other end opposite from Celestia. Walking past the cells, Celestia inevitably arrived at the final one, where she found Luna, bouncing an old ball against the wall with her magic, looking bored. From what Celestia could see, Luna’s collar had also been removed.

Noticing Celestia, Luna said, “It took you long enough.”

Celestia was puzzled. “Why didn’t you escape? I see your collar is gone, too.”

“We felt no need to,” said Luna, bouncing the ball repeatedly against the wall. “There was an alicorn across from us, and we decided to have a chat. Also, I must admit, I’ve been feeling lazy today, and knew you’d come for me.”

From behind Celestia, Rusty said, “If this is your sister, then I believe we’ve accomplished our short-lived mission. If this is the case, I’d like to free my imprisoned companions.”

Celestia turned back to Rusty and smiled. “Of course. We may start in a moment once my sister breaks herself out of her cell.”

“So you have come all this way here to not open my cell. I suppose that is fine,” said Luna, turning her muzzle upward. Celestia couldn’t quite understand why her sister was acting this way.

“Fine,” said Celestia, not wanting to push this further, “but I want you to help me with the others.” She then ripped the bars from the cell, the metal having most certainly grown weak and weary over a long period of time.

Once the bars were cleared, Luna stepped out with a mock smile. “I knew you would rescue me.”

Celestia facehoofed, this was going to be a long day.

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

It was morning, and Applejack was ready to head out with Fiddler and his unique family. Walking over to Fiddler, Applejack couldn’t help but ask, “So how long is it gonna be ‘til we can reach this tower?”

Fiddler, looking down the street, as if checking for danger, replied, “I reckon it’ll be a day or two. From here, we gotta walk over to an old abandoned record shop, then spend the night there. We often stop there when travelling in between somewhere here and Tenpony.”

“Well, we’d better get started then,” said Applejack, smiling.

On his back, Dusty Bass carried a large sack made up of random pieces of mismatched cloth, holding all of the instruments. The raw strength reminded her a lot of her brother, Big Macintosh, who could perform quite a few feats of strength as he worked along the farm. “Let’s get to it. I don’t wanna run into any raiders when it gets dark.”

“Raiders?” Applejack asked.

“Ponies who’ll ambush and steal from ya,” replied Nana. “Most of the time they’ll try to kill ya, too.”

“Sounds gosh-dang awful,” Applejack commented.

Smooth Rhythm smirked. “Wait’ll you see what they eat. They’ll catch ya, skin ya alive, and roast ya over an open fire!”

Applejack shuddered. “Um… Then I guess we should start walkin’ before it gets too dark, huh?”

“Then let’s get to it!” Nana cried out, taking the first few steps.

And so, agreeing on leaving now, they started on their journey to Tenpony Tower. What was next in store for Applejack was anypony’s guess, but she wouldn’t let uncertainty phase her. All that mattered to her was getting to her friends.

Author's Note

Here you guys are. I'm sorry this one took longer than expected. Starting work on the next chapter now.

This one might be a personal favorite of mine, mostly because of the bartender and the jokes we got from some of the people on the team. I'm a sucker for sarcasm.

Up next is Rarity, y'all! Get ready!