Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Haute Bohème, Part 2

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"Listening to Harp Melody, I learned more about the Marewaii Metro.

She went on about how one of the three big factions had fallen. Known simply as The Republic, they were what was left of the old Equestria government and businesses. They had survived on the Gathering Island. Marewaii’s mayor, along with several business CEO’s, Ministry heads, and Military leaders had survived and managed to maintain order. Unfortunately, the flaws of the old world got passed on through them, which tore the Republic apart.

Many of the leaders of the Republic were bought out by the corporations, throwing the lower class into a slave-like existence. Others still fell into a new dogma about equality, fairness, and how everything belongs to everypony, refusing to see that any pony should be allowed the fruits of their own labor. Infighting began to happen, and when push came to shove, the Republic fell into chaos.

The smoke of the old power was left dead through the slaughter brought on by those who believed only in Equality. Any pony who didn’t agree with them were killed. Any pony who did not show enthusiastic support were killed. To them, you were equally miserable, or you were dead.

It sounded like the typical downfall of a Utopian vision to me. A horrible nightmare made from corpses and painted gold. It was a flaw I saw many times with the Harpies, where hypocrisy was preferable to honesty. I never wanted to stay in their lands for long, not if I could help it." ~ Azure Dice

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Being dragged to the jail was wholly unnecessary. I knew Stopped Clock didn’t need to struggle to move me at least a little above the ground. Though I didn’t struggle or complain, other than it being useless, I also figured that he wanted me to do something. All he needed was any excuse, then he could be rougher with me. Ponies like him may justify their own actions, but they were not stuipd enough to expect others to accept their justification.

Though it didn’t help that the asshole took my saddlebag and gave it to Karat. The bitch decided to stick to that accusation of me being a thief, and me striking her being because she caught me. Stopped just taking her word for it.

Then I had the whole town watching as I was dragged away like I was some unwanted animal being removed.

With a thud and a clunk, the jail door was closed behind me. It had looked ill-kept from the last time I was here, but now that I was inside, it looked relatively worse. The floor was rough with uneven sided wooden boards that threatened to give me a splinter if I stepped on them. The bars were rusty, and the bed was nothing more than a frame with a few wooden planks on it.

Worse was the lone bucket in the corner that had a bunch of flies buzzing around it.

I brushed myself off while trying to remain calm. On the other side of the bars was Stopped, holding my jacket as he removed my Enforcer revolver.

In the most calm but stern voice I could, I said, “Better give them back once I’m out. Both were gifts from my father.”

He put them both on his desk. “You think you're in a position to negotiate?”

“After you gave my property over to that bitch, I think I am. You didn’t even check what was in my saddlebag,” I complained.

“They all say that. Every last one of them,” He said, brushing me off as he turned to his desk and pulled out some paper. “Now shut up. I have some paperwork to do.”

I could understand that not giving a fuck was a good quality for law enforcment, but this was too much. Even back home, both the guard and Orthrus security knew to confiscate all involved items. Just hoofing over one ponies belongings to another was inviting a lawsuit.

…

But I was not home.

I could possibly get that toaster and the other materials I purchased back. My saddlebag too. Maybe my caps…

Why did I lose my cool there? It was just not like me.

It’s this place! This fucking place just won’t let me catch my breath. If I just had the time to just hide away, figure things out slowly.

No, there are ponies who know me. Who wants to use me, and nopony to protect me from them.

Maybe the Gunrunners… No, I don’t want them to get involved with my problems.

I need to leave as soon as I have the supplies and caps for it. Make my way to Cantercross as fast as possible. At least there I should be able to hide.

But I’m sitting in a fucking jail cell all because I let some insignificant peasant goat me!

I banged on the cage and then trotted to the bed. Now I needed to think of a way out of here.

Some time passed. When a few of the regular deputies came by, I tried to talk to them. Unfortunately, Stopped glared at them. After that, they refused to talk to me, dashing my hopes to at least get word out to ponies that could help me.

One silver lining was that I didn’t need to relive myself as time ticked by. Whatever that was worth.

There was a commotion outside, and then the door to the outside kicked open. “Oh fucken let me go, pretty colt. Atta fuck ya up!” Dead Axle shouted as deputy Willow dragged her in. She had been hogtied.

With a quick motion, Stopped opened the jail cell to let Willow toss her in. With a quick snap of the rope, Dead was untied, and the jail door slammed shut right as the angry mare charged at them. She stumbled back, stunned for a moment, then shook herself as she regained her anger.

Dead began her shouting again. “When my bros find out about this shit, you know there's going to be trouble. Trust me on this.”

Willow just gave an exhausted sigh. “You and the Desperado’s aren't going to do anything. You hear me? Now just sit there and cool the fuck down, you mad mare! By Celestia, starting a fight with a merchant over auto-wagons.”

Dead gave a short laugh. “That’s because Chrysalis Motors made shit motterwagons. Even their attempt at a motorcycle was garbage. That asshole said that their family had a Marauder that lasted a hundred years after the war, brahmin shit. I bet it was only the trunk that was left after fifty years.”

She sat back, her forelegs up as though she was shrugging. Her face looked prideful.

“Now the H-D W.L.A, that is a truly perfect vehicle. Made by the best company old Equestria ever had,” she boasted.

“You do know I both don’t know what you’re talking about and don’t care. Now sit there and shut up for an hour,” Willow told the gangger.

The younger deputy’s eyes then wandered from Dead over to me. His eyes widened with shock. “What are you doing here, Miss Harp?”

I was about to explain, but Stopped Clock cut in before I could. “She attacked Miss Karat Gold and stole from the General store.”

This was getting really annoying, and I was not going to just sit and take it. “I didn’t steal a damn thing, and you know it. Now ya, I back hoofed Karat, but she really needs to learn to not push a pony’s buttons. Still, that was no reason to give her all my stuff, so if anypony is a victim of theft, it’s me.”

Willow cocked an eyebrow. “You did what?”

I sighed. “Ya, I know I’m in the wrong, but after last night, I’m not the calmest pony, alright?!”

A chuckle came from Dead. “Oh, I know that feeling whenever I’m on the losing end of a fight. I just need to find something to destroy to get my spirits up.”

Both Willow and I glared at the Desperado, causing her to frown as she then shut up and sat next to the wall.

Turning his attention back to me, Willow looked conflicted. “Well, I’ll see about your things, but attacking another citizen like that, we can’t overlook it.”

I didn’t blame him. This situation was all my fault in the first place, though Karat deserved it.

“Well, can you at least let me out? I got things to do, you see. It’s actually why I was buying all the electronics in the first place. If there's a fine, I would see about paying it, but Stopped gave all my caps to Karat.”

Willow looked annoyed as he scratched his head. “Stopped, you didn’t do that, did you?”

“It’s what thieves get!” Stopped said as he put his paperwork down before coldly saying, “Or did you forget Fillydelphia?

Leaning back to turn and look at us, his one good eye was cold and uncaring. “One of Ashy’s rules, no thieves! No attempt at thievery, no openly talking about thieving. If a thief is caught, they lose the right to whatever possessions they have; no exception. Or do you need Ashy to drill those rules into you again?”

Taking a deep breath, Willow’s expression darkened, as though remembering something he rather not. “I… remember. The rules were how we made sure the slavers left us alone, and that we stayed strong and unified.”

“Good.” Stopped said, sounding mildly satisfied. “It’s no different here. Thieves disrupted the unity of the town by sowing mistrust and inviting strife. Now leave her be. I’ll let her out when I feel she has learned her lesson.”

Willow took a step away from the jail cell, which sent a twinge of anger through me. Was that all he needed? A simple lecture about the past, and he was willing to turn a blind eye? Just the other day he was all mister understanding and wanting to change the attitudes of his peers.

I had to force myself to relax, as getting pissy now would get me nowhere. So I spoke, though I couldn’t help but speak with some venom in my voice. “Seriously, is this why my father distrusted the council representative of security? Rules, rules, rules without thinking why. Aren't you going to even talk to Heavy Hoof, or the other ponies in the shop about what happened? I’m sure they will tell you that I didn’t steal a thing!”

Willow looked back at me, seemingly disappointed. “Miss Harp, I know how to do my job. I’ll talk with Miss Karat about the incident later. See if I can clear things up.”

“Later? What about now? For all I know, she could be reselling all my stuff right now! She could be spending my caps on more of her garish hoof polish!” I told him.

He turned his back on me. “I said later, Miss Harp.”

That was it. I was still stuck here, and my things that were taken from me. “That saddlebag is probably a one of a kind now, and you assholes just gave it away.” I slumped back, pouting.

Several minutes passed in silence. There was little to do but count the lines in the ceiling or mess with my pipbuck. I attempted to see if Order could help me out, but the Drone was currently too far away, and the program simply had no spells or advice for me.

Breaking the silence, Dead Axle spoke up. “Didn’t imagine you were the fighter type. Among all the softies here, you're pretty much the softest looking one. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said back.

“Say,” she spoke up again. “You stable ponies all have jobs in the stables. What was yours? I’m thinking you were a songbird or some smarty administrator type.”

I didn’t want to be questioned right now. It only made me more annoyed.

But it also was a distraction.

So I responded, “Nothing.”

“Not a thing?” she asked back skeptically.

I gritted my teeth. “Ya! My job was to stay out of the way and not embarrass my family. Someday I would get married off to some lesser noble who would likely have foals with another mare. That was my job.”

Dead gave a sharp whistle. “That’s fucking stupid and a waste of a smarty like ya. Then again, back home, you be too weak to do much with the clan, but the elders would likely find some problem vassal settlement to put ya in charge of. Get ya to fix their shit before we have ta beat the problem out of them.”

She got up and trotted next to me, sitting down on the bead. “Ya sound like you’re from some bigshot family, though they sound not the brightest to not put ya to work in some way. Why would your father just have you do nothing?”

I felt a pain in my heart, like a needle.

“Because he wanted me safe,” I said, remembering how much he wanted me to just find a new life with him in order to get to know me for more than just a week.

Rubbing my eyes a little to keep me from crying, I just started talking. “My father, Phorminx, was not from the Stable. We had only found each other recently. I’m sure if I had lived with him, I’d have been just a normal mare. Maybe I’d be a desk mare filing paperwork, or working in some lab, safe from the troubles of the Islands. No pony would need to know my heritage, or would care.

“But no, I had to live in Stable 50, where my pedigree was too high to live anywhere else, but my blood was too impure to be trusted with any power or responsibility,” I said as I felt a smoldering anger build up inside of me. Both at my family and at myself. “I had thought about running away, but to where? Everypony in the metro already knew who I was. Maybe that's why I let my eldest sister set me up. Why I accepted to go on a safari to the wild big island. There was no way she wouldn’t attempt to kill me there.”

I sighed, remembering how my vile guide took me so far away from civilization then attempted to court me as though I would ever think of him as anything more than some low life. I remembered as the Enclave crash-landed into him, saving me. I remember as the pirates learned of me, and the existence of the metro.

I remember how everything was my fault. Every death from then on was a result of my own selfishness.

Sweet lost her eyes and wigs to the Sparkle-Lurker queen to protect me.

The Islands fell under attack because the pirates discovered me.

My stable was raided because my eldest sister found new allies with those pirates.

Vibraphone lost her sister to insure I escaped.

And Vibraphone was forced to do Blackspots bidding because he took me hostage.

At every turn, I make everything worse.

“Should I even be trying to go back home?” I asked myself.

Another chuckle came from Dead Axle. “Sounds like your sister needs you to kick her shit in.”

I looked at Dead, who had a big gin on her face.

“What!?” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck if I’m going to know the interplay of rich and powerful ponies, but trust me on this; ya soft ponies only think you're all high and mighty because ya don’t have to dig through the mud to survive. It not only makes your bodies soft, but your minds soft as well.”

Dead pointed at one of her scars. “Ever fought off a cazador? They are big nasty fucking wasps with a venom that stings like a real bitch. Ya, rich ponies can say they have, but most of the time it is as far away from the fight as possible with mercenaries attempting to hold the fucker down so their boss can get an easy shot. After the bug is dead, they stuff it, mount it, then tell other rich ponies how much better they are.”

She smiled wide. One of her teeth were broken, and another was missing. “But the funny thing is, all the caps in equestri can’t buy shit if there is nothing to buy. When the food is all gone, mercenaries dead, and the bullets all spent … that’s when they realize how low on the totem pole they can fall. Oh, they may have money to throw around, but a little baby cazador don’t fucking care.”

I looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “Sounds oddly specific. How does that relate to my eldest sister?”

The mare patted me on the back. “Simple, really. If ya got a beef with your sis, then just drag her down to your level. Make her taste the dirt. After that, you can stand over her and simply say, “Crawl back up like everypony else.’”

She chuckled again, satisfied with her own statement while rubbing my shoulder like we were friends.

I brushed her off. “It doesn't work like that. Even if I wanted to, she’s both far more powerful, and more important than I am. Silver Majesty may be a cripple, but she is the most magical pony I have ever seen.”

Dead Axle rolled her eyes. “Magic doesn't stop bullets unless she sees them coming.”

I lightly knocked once on her shoulder. “Yes, it fucking does! She can cast spells that both blocks and deflects. She also has her own personal guard and savage allies who likely put her in power.”

The gangger mare tilted her head up as though looking down at me. “You know so much about her. Must be why you think such a pony is invincible. But no pony like that exists.”

This time I chuckled. It was filled with bitterness and doubt. “Some things might as well be.”

Dead Axle let herself relax as she wrapped a hoof around me in a friendly manner.

“You know, I love puzzles, solving problems, and most of all making smart ponies look stupid.” She let me go and leaned back, getting herself comfortable on the uncomfortable bed. “One thing I learned; never think nothing is unbreakable.”

She squinted her eyes at me and said softly as she smiled. “Ya do look like the Majesty on the elder’s cherished poster.”

Just then, I remembered something Slowtrot had said as well as something about the Desperados. My Ancaster Majesty took part in the early war for propaganda, having posters made of her among the troop. The Desperados themselves were descendants of early war troops, so of course they might keep such things.

“Your elder owns a poster of Majesty?” I asked.

She nodded. “Oh, it is one of his prized possessions, along with his hog.”

That got me interested. Back home there were plenty of photos of Majesty from when she first entered the stable to when time had stolen her youth away. My own mane style was based on hers. It was a feeble attempt to emulate my ancestry.

Dead Axle tapped on the bead, looking around as though analyzing her surroundings. After that, she ran her hoof on the wooden board’s edge, pulling out a lodge splinter.

“Say, how long do you think it takes for me to pull this thing to splinters?” she asked.

It was a dumb question, but I had nothing better to do. “Maybe a few hours?”

She again smiled at me as though I was a fly caught in a web. “So I can destroy this time by just slowly pulling it apart then. It just takes several hours.”

I quickly got what she was trying to say to me. “Right, right. Given time, anything can be whittled down. Even I know that.”

Dead shook her head. “Ya don’t get it.” She then applied a bit more pressure with her hoof and pulled out a bigger splinter. “Time destroys all, but a pony can destroy it faster. It’s all a matter of how fast or slow you can to do it.”

The mare let the splinters drop and rested her head on my shoulder again like we were friends. “If you wanted to drag that sister of yours down to the dirt and not get close to her, how would you do it?”

I pushed her off me. “First off, no. Second, I’d have my nephew killed, and unlike her, he is a weak idiot.”

My mouth ran dry from my own words due to the suggestion of killing my own nephew coming out of me which so easily caught me off guard.

“Good, good. And?” she prompted.

“She has an attendant she trusts,” I said, not stopping. “He was trained at birth to be loyal; to be trustworthy. But Silver trust nopony. He could easily be set up for her to think he had tried to kill her.”

Dead got muzzle to muzzle with me. “And then?”

I averted my gaze as I added, “She is allergic to nuts. Really allergic. While she is having one of her temper tantrums, I’d rub the stuff on all her things in her room. Then I would set up a camera to photograph her while she is puffing up and paint a picture of it.”

Dead backed up a bit, looking a bit confused.

“What?” I asked.

She rotated her hoof around, clearly unsure with what she had just heard. “I just don't know if that is too mild, or way too far. Personally, I just get into a hoof fight,” she explained.

I stretched out, showing her how thin I was. “Do I look like I get into hoof fights regularly?”

Dead laughed. “No. No, you don’t.” She gave me a light jab on the shoulder.

“Owch!” I said, faking pain.

She rolled her eyes. “I barely touched you.”

Now I laughed. “I’m a delicate flower. What do you expect?”

I don’t know why, but I began to feel more comfortable. Despite being in a jail with a barbarian, I finally started to relax. At least here I did feel a bit safe and with ponies who didn’t care who I was.

The two of us continue our chat. It was more about unimportant things such as food and other ponies we liked. Dead Axle was clearly a smart mare with a poor education, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. It felt, for once, that I was talking to a pony who could somewhat understand me, though on the more violent side.

Actually, she was probably not more violent than my own family. She was just more willing to do the violence with her own hooves.

It began to drive home the fact that, even though we didn’t kill ponies ourselves, we of Platinum’s bloodline brought death all the same. The difference was that we were able to get others to do it for us. Though Dead did not see the value of getting other ponies to do the work for us, she did respect that it was a talent. I, on the other hoof, understood that she was telling me about the values of personal strength.

When all is laid bare and there was nothing between me and death, could I fight?

Probably not.

But that’s why I must make sure I have that barrier between me and death. That something or somepony was my sword and shield. If I ever fight my sister, Silver Majesty, I’d do it by proxy. I’d never let her have a direct chance to end me.

It all became clear to me.

If anypony wants to take me, I must make them bleed for it. By mercenary or robot, they need to bleed.

Maybe the Deparado’s could be used for that.

My thought’s on the matter were interrupted by a screeching pony stopping into the office.

An angry Karat trotted into view while sporting a black eyes and smoke wafting off of her mane. She looked about the room as everypony stood shocked, and then she locked eyes with me.

“You!” she shrieked as she stomped to the jail. “You think it’s funny to endanger my foals?!”

As she got closer, I could see that a canister was stuck in her mane. It weekly bellowed smoke out of it and lightly filled the room.

Dead Axle laughed like she saw the funniest things in the world, and I’d have joined her if I was not worried about Karat adding more accusations onto me.

“Oh, you bitch! I will see you hung for this; endangering my foals with an explosive!” She accused me, then reached up to grab the canister. The thing stuck in her mane no matter how hard she pulled.

I addressed her without showing any emotion. “Miss Bitch, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you think any pony will believe that I stuck a smoke bomb in your mane from inside this jail, you may need to get your head fixed.”

She kicked the jail. In response, two deputies ran over to pull her back.

“Fuck you! I know you planned this! Take her away! Take her to JAIL!” She screeched.

“I already told you, I am in jail. Is there a superjail?” I asked back at her, suppressing a smirk.

I have no fucking clue what had happend, but it was making my day. I only wish I could give her a second black eye.

Finally, Stopped Clock stepped in, first eyeing me with annoyance before trotting over to Karat. Willow also trotted over to help.

“Tell me what happened, Miss Karat?” he asked her.

She put on her best tears, but It was nothing more than her spreading her own mascara with her hooves, the amateur. “Well, I gave my foals the lunch box, but they had a hard time opening it, so I went and helped them. When I wrenched the damn thing open, this fucking grenade popped out and filled the shop with smoke. I was so scared that I thought she would booby trap my store's own product!”

Karat pointed at me accusingly.

Willow trotted over to help get the smoke bomb out of Karat’s mane by levitating a knife out. “Now miss-”

“Not your case, Willow,'' Stopped grumbled, and the younger deputy clapped up. After that, Stopped looked over at me, his eyes judging. “Is this true-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for the trouble, Deputies!” Moody Peddler said loudly as he stepped in. Behind the merchant was Heavy Hoof, looking rather guilty.

Stopped Clock whipped his head around to look at the new pony, quite annoyed now.

Moody bowed his head at the Deputy then continued. “I had warned Harp about the possibility of pranks with the mystery box, but my foals thought not to tell me about their recent discovery of wonder glue and how it could make pranks worse.”

He produced a glass bottle. “Free of charge. I have this dissolving agent. It will unbind the glue from whoever the glue is stuck to in seconds, as an apology.”

The merchant then tossed the bottle to Willow who quickly spritzed the liquid onto the smoke bomb. After a moment, the thing fell out of Karat’s mane.

Karat indignantly kicked the smoldering smoke bomb into our jail cell.

“Oy bitch, ponies are in here!” Dead Axle yelled as she kicked it back at her. The thing missed her by just a bit.

Willow caught it and threw it inside a container before closing it and sealing the smoke away.

Then, for several seconds, everypony became quiet. The chaos of the moment had settled down, but a thick veil of tension remained.

Moody tapped his hoof and looked back at Heavy Hoof.

The larger stallion stepped forward and addressed Stopped Clock. “I like you to let Miss Harp go. This incident was all my wife's fault. On her behalf, I’d like to apologize for causing such a scene.”

Karat gasped and Stopped’s one good eye twitch as he looked at Heavy Hoof. “So are you denying that I saw the assault myself?”

Karat trotted up to and poked her husband in the chest. “Have you gone mad? She attacked me!”

Heavy looked away, his own eyes catching Moodies. He seemed to visibly shake before looking back at his own wife. “Honey, please listen; we need to let this go. The other merchants are-”

“-Oh don’t you honey please with me!” Karat screeched, again poking her husband in the chest. “It was bad enough with this leg brace, but how am I supposed to be seen after she hit me in the face? What will the neighbors think or the wealthy ponies coming into town? Siding with such trash over me?!”

I could see it. Heavy Hoof’s emotions were starting to boil over. But it was not anger. No. He was scared. Terrified, even.

Karat continued to poke her husband as she chastised him. Then it happened.

*Slap!*

Karat stumbled back after being struck by her husband.

“WHAT WILL THE NEIGHBORS THINK?! THEY’RE NOT GOING TO CARE ABOUT US WHEN WE’RE OUT OF BUSINESS!” Heavy shouted in an almost pleading tone. “All the traveling merchants in town are already upset with the mayor. They are only getting more irritated as the days pass without a date for the festival, and now you pull this. Everything she had was legibly purchased, both from those merchants and from me. To have them get taken away like that and then you just put them on the shelves to be re-sold… there is no way they will not talk about that.”

Heavy trotted up to Stopped, looking him in the eye. “Let her go, or I will tell the mayor how you ruined my business by stealing from my costumes. With what caps I have left, I will drag you down with me!”

“Is that so…” Stopped glared over at Moody. “Fine then, but I will make sure to write this in my report. All of it.”

He looked back at me. His cold hatred was still in his glare. “You're free to go, but if I ever catch you breaking the law again, don’t think you will get off so easily.”

Willow trotted over to the jail cell, opened it, then offered out a hoof.

I looked at it.

Then at Willow.

Slapping the hoof out of my way, I trotted passed the deputy, not even waiting for a word on him.

I grabbed my jacket from Stopped’s desk and put it on before taking my revolver back.

There was a clang and a squeak behind me as Dead Axle spoke up. “I’m with her, asshole!”

“No, you're not!” Willow growled as he tried to push the mare back in.

Dead managed to slip out of the jail and trott next to me before looking back at WIllow. “Bite my flank!”

The younger deputy pulled out a lasso, With his magic, he got ready to throw it. “Oh no you-”

“-Let them go.” Stopped grumbled, causing Willow to drop the lasso and look back at the older deputy. “Ponies like them will trip up again. Just be ready to put them down when they do.”

I sighed, thoroughly annoyed with Stopped’s hogshit. “You know, back where I’m from, ponies like you were kept in the dead-end stations where you can do the least harm. It always ends the same, where they try to go on some crusade for some self righteous goal and get themself, and all those who follow them, killed. Maybe you should retire before history repeats itself.”

Stopped picked up an old tattered quill, dipping it in a rather scratched up inkwell. “You stable ponies have only ever been trouble. Now get out!”

I did just that, passing a stunned Karat and a shakened Heavy.

Trotting outside along with Dead Axle, I found Moody Peddler along with one of his foals who was holding my saddlebag.

Taking my belongings back, I cocked an eyebrow at Moody. “Not to look a gift pony in the mouth, but… How?”

The merchant gave a hardy laugh. “Come back to my stall and we can talk about it.”

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-Reputation-

-New Appaloosa Law-

Watch your back Harp.

-Desperado’s-

Word has gotten out that, though Harp is soft, she still doesn't take crap from nopony. They respect that.