Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

The Paths Ponies Choose, Part 1

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"Religion was nothing new to me. My own kind believed that life was nothing but a test we must live through in order to be ready for the true challenge that awaited us in the next life. So I was curious to learn more about Star Charter’s faith.

They call themselves The Prophet Thorn Rosland’s Chosen, or just the Chosen for short. It is a faith that believes that the two princesses, Celestia and Luna, were in truth benevolent Goddesses who descended from the heavens to guide them all from the path of evil. This Thorn Rosland had it written in her book that the six ministries mare, who wielded elements of harmony, were in fact false heroes, or false prophets in the religious context. They used their power to usurp and kill the goddesses then bringing the world to ruin. Now the chosen must continue on without the Goddesses and guide all creatures from the path of evil.

Like with many religions I have seen, their view on salvation often came at the blade of a sword, or the barrel of the gun. Also, the more I learned about Thorn Rosland, the more she sounded like a warlord who placed herself as the closest thing to god. Something not new to me, either." ~ Azure Dice

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“Fucking seriously, Star? You’re not shitting me, right?!” Rusty Cleaver prodded me as I sat near the front, keeping an eye on the floor of the Ruffled Feather.

“No, I’m not. We literally got stuck inside a raider base and shot our way out,” I told my friend in all honesty.

I had gone to sleep not long after we got back, both to recover and to catch up on the sleep I missed. It had gotten chaotic at the Followers camp as soon as we arrived. The one older colt jumped out and bit one of them. Still, those egghead ponies took it all in stride, taking the captives, the foals, and Slowtrot into the camp for immediate examination and treatment.

Slowtrot was going to be just fine, but they wanted to hold onto him for the night.

As for the Desperados, they quickly left after letting us know they will return to the stable with more of their clan to wipe the rest of the raiders out. Something about collecting the raiders guns and ammo to add to their warchest. It didn’t sound like a bad idea if they were expecting a bigger fight in the west, gathering what resources they could before they left.

But, right now, I was back at my night job, earning my caps by making sure drunks don’t get too touchy with the mares. Harp too had joined us, though I imagine she was trying to forget what happened in the stable and what she had done.

Cold would not begin to explain what I saw her do; executing two ponies and the mutilation of the raider boss. Still, she helped save several ponies and likely gave some foals the opportunity of a better life. I just didn’t know what to make of it, with how she reminded me of Victoria in her focused determination through it all, yet there was also a warmness to her.

I had the same exhilaration with them, just like I had with Victoria, but there was more to it, not just simple carnage upon those who wronged me. Unlike before, there was no question that what I did could ever be seen as evil. I saved ponies, not simply killed them.

It made me feel… good.

Still, mom was going to be pissed as soon as she found out about it, but that was tomorrows problem, and one I’ll gladly deal with.

“If I’d have been with ya, those half cocks would have been stomped good!” The chubby Rusty boosted with unearned pride.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, but decided to not call her out. “Help would have been nice. Those fuckers were off their rocker cannibals.”

She cringed a little. “That far gone? fucking shit. I only heard rumors when my group was still alive. I remember one of my bros back then telling me about how he saw roasted pony on a spit at a big gathering place. That’s why we stayed out of their fucking territory.”

Brass Chain clung onto me, getting close. “You really should stop putting yourself in danger. It makes us worry.” It was clear she had something to drink and was now getting clingy. It helped her butter up clients, but I also had to keep a closer eye on her so they didn’t take advantage of her.

Giving her a smile to reassure her, I let her get closer to me. “Don’t worry. I have no plans for getting into a gunfight any time soon. Seriously, that was as close of a call I ever want to be in again.”

“Good. We need you here, Star.” She said to me caringly.

It hurt my heart hearing that, with me planning to leave with Victoria. To leave them all behind. Every lie felt like a needle. With Victoria, I would be running into a fire. I would be diving into bloodshed. There was no way around it, but I could not bring myself to tell any of them about it.

It would be better if I just vanished. Let them think I found a better job far away.

As for Harp, I decided to drop trying to get her to join me for now. How she conducted herself in that stable full of raiders, it was marvelous. She would make a fine Corps Brigadier, yet I had a feeling she would not love being one. It didn’t help that she had a grudge against us. Fucking Blackspot! He had always been kind of useless as a foal.

Looking at her, she and Cloudy were buttering up some wealthy mare on Waterspouts request. The mare was a freckle dusty pony whose looks screamed wasteland pony thoroughbred. The kind of pony who can trot unendingly for days without food or water and still be able to kill any pony who would come after them. They were more common in the more desolate parts of the wasteland. Their colors blended into the grays and browns that was most of the wasteland. Supposedly even raiders couldn't survive in those parts, both from starvation and from the native inhabitants shooting them on sight.

Lately, a lot of these self-called “Wastelandians” have been migrating to the NCR and joining up with the army, or starting their own businesses like the mare there. Not sure why. Not my place to know why.

The mare herself was not my type. Despite having the signs of a hard life, she didn’t have the looks of a fighter. No battle marks that I love. She was just simply… Dusty.

“You three, get back to work!” Waterspout said as he trotted over. The hippogriff was glad to hear that the raiders were gone, and had the news quickly spread through downtown. The Blood Moon raiders had spooked a lot of ponies, and last night was a slow night because of them. Business still had not completely picked up, but all our regulars had returned.

Rusty grabbed onto my leg. “Oh come on. Can’t we take a little Star brake?”

Waterspout just shook his head, and Rusty puted at me before letting me go.

“Oh well. Don’t go getting in any more trouble, Star,” she said, trotting back to the floor.

Brass let me go as well. “I guess I’ll… do something.”

I watched as Brass trotted to the bar where she was then given a drink to deliver to a table.

Turning my gaze over to Waterspout, I gave him a slight smile. “I do hope you're not letting Rusty drink any of the booze?”

“For the tenth time, no I’m not,” he said gruffly as he took a seat near me. “I’m sly, not malicious. Last thing I need is to make enemies of prostitutes. My father learned that the hard way.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “What? She killed him after sleeping with him?”

Waterspout nodded. “A he, actually. Still don’t understand my father’s taste when he was clearly not gay, but it turns out, no matter how much of a hardass you are, you’re still as vulnerable as a baby during sleep after a good fucking.”

The image of two hippogriff stallions going at it in bed left me conflicted. It was one part disgusting, yet the idea of it was also… fascinating? I shook my head to try and clear my thoughts.

“That all aside, Star,” he said as the hippogriff pulled out a rusty box then passed it to me. “This is from one of our regulars. One of the ponies you saved was his daughter.”

The box was a bit bigger than my hoof. Inside were several rough-looking blackish-brown rocks… no, crystals, that sparkled when the light hit them. They looked like they had been polished, but were still uncut, from what I could tell.

“Crystals... as a gift?” I asked as I took a closer look at one of them.

“Yep. The quarry miners find some of them here and there. They don’t tell their boss about the things, and sometimes they use them to pay off their tab as long as I tell no pony about it. Good business for everypony. The old stallion must have been saving them up for a few years now with how rare they are to find around here.”

They were interesting to look at, but I was unsure if the crystals were anything important. Maybe if they were made into gemstones I could sell them for some good caps, but even then, they are not worth running through a raiders den for. Still, beggars can't be choosers, so I was not going to complain. Maybe I can turn one into a necklace for Bridget.

Still, I did like getting a reward. Both for what caps I could get out of it, but also the appreciation of it. Being acknowledged for a good deed felt really good.

I closed the box, figuring that I should show Harp and Slowtrot them later, as they should get a cut.

“Anything else, boss?” I checked.

Waterspout looked over at Harp and Cloudy. “Make sure nopony fucks with them. That client must leave happy. She could become a big spender here if she does.”

Placing the box behind the nearby counter where we kept a baseball bat, I then gave Waterspout a friendly jab on the shoulder and chuckled. “No problem. After what I saw Harp do down there, it will be more protecting the idiots from her.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Should I ask?”

“Ya… best if you don’t.” I advised him.

Waterspout shrugged. “You mares have always found new ways to be cruel when you need to be.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Aren't we all ladies to you gentle stallions?” I asked jokingly.

He laughed back. “I may be a Gentle stallion, but other than Harp and Cloudy, none of you here are ladies. You gotta earn that title with grace.”

The hippogriff then put on a bit of a serious face. “Anyways, from my travels around the world, though males have managed to kill each other in great numbers, it was always the places under the rule of a female where the most suffering occurred. Trust me on this. If you were going to get raped, pray it’s by a male and not a female.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “They don’t got dicks! How can a mare be worse?”

Waterspout looked away with a cold stare. “Ya, they just improvise on their victims.” He got up and gave me another glance, this time softer and with some care in it. “I’m just saying be more careful next time. Though you have been a pain in my flank for these last five years, you're still an important part of our family here. We were all truly worried when we heard you had been attacked by raiders.”

A sigh left my mouth as I felt a bit lighter from him saying that. “I get it, and thanks. I don’t plan on doing anything crazy again for a long while. I’ll be here.”

That lie sent a pain into my heart, making me wish I didn’t have to assure everypony that I was not going to run off again, that I was not going to rejoin my old family and return to a life of violence.

I hated it.

Waterspout returned to the bar for a while before he disappeared to the back as I kept an eye on the floor. Nothing out of place was going on. Ponies got drunk as a mare or stallion hung close to them, all as they watched the dancer on stage wiggle her flank. The bar had several ponies chatting as they drank and the brothel workers were finding their marks.

This place has been a home for me for five years now. I still remembered how much I fucking sucked at any of this. Getting a job as one of the cleaners was a lot of brahmin shit, but I needed the job, and it was simple, or should have been. Don’t know what was going on in my head. I think I was just angry… at the town for being asshole, myself for fucking up, Skipper for running of instead of taking his beatings. Still, when that stallion tried to mess with me, maybe throwing a table at him was the wrong way to go about it.

I don’t fucking regret it, though.

I know that's how I actually ended up in the cursed dancer’s outfit in order to pay for damages I didn’t have the caps for. At least Waterspout didn’t try to sell me on the brothel. He was probably scared I’d kill somepony if they tried to literally fuck me.

After a few months of that, the boss somehow got me to start working on the floor and having me do bouncer work as well. Actually being able to rough up some of those assholes helped get my aggression out and talking up ponies did fix my normal attitude to those I hated. Able to play nice while plotting to kick their ass later was so much more satisfying than just punching them right then and there.

I made friends with Rusty and Brass here, and Bridget became friends with their foals. Stange how I became part of a stripper mom group…

Two ponies passed me by. There was nothing on them but a flimsy bag that jingled with caps. The two stallions already looked a bit intoxicated. It was nothing new, but they smelled of dash. They quickly found themselves a seat to watch the show and were clearly not regulated. They still had the rough look of working ponies, so likely part of the crew building Victoria's stage. If they had only come in smelling of booze then no problem, but with how much the cut chems have been floating around, I was a bit more on alert now.

Things continued as it always has. New dancers took the stage, and the two out of towner stallions got a mare’s attention. What caught my eye was when the two new stallions pulled out a dash inhaler, of which was not allowed inside the tavern. Ponies tend to do real stupid shit when getting high.

Trotting over, they were already offering the working mare with them some of the dash. Dry Flowers was her name. As expected, she was doing her best to turn them down politely. Unfortunately, they were being stupidly persistent.

“Excuse me!” I spoke clearly to get their attention. They both looked over at me. The look on their face clearly asked why they were being bothered. “If you wish to use your chems, you need to do it outside.”

One clearly was annoyed, blatantly taking a hit of the chem. “I want to watch the show, bitch!”

The other stallion laughed. They clearly were too high to be properly reasoned with.

Lucky they weren't belligerent yet, so I could still get them to leave before I have to bruise them up.

“I know,” I replied. “The mare on stage is quite the looker, but that's the rules. Say ... I can go out with you and we can all enjoy a hit together.”

They looked unsure and the little cogs in their head began to turn like a long-dead clock being given a bit of power for one last tick.

“We will not leave, not unless… ya give us a private show. You are a looker,” one of them stated, putting a smile on my face.

The mare, Dry, also smiled wide, giving me a wink. She wanted me to drag the time out a little bit in order to let her get them to buy a drink or two before I get them to leave. Easy enough.

“Alright. I’ll have to check with my manager first. They don’t like private shows being given out for free, but for you two,” I winked at them. “I’ll make an exception.”

They both looked dumbfounded, clearly not expecting a yes. One of them formed a small, stupid grim on his face.

Dry then made her move, clinging closer to one as she gave him a seductive glance. “Ahh... She’s stealing my stallions again! And here I was hoping to share a few drinks. Maybe even some shots.”

I trotted to the bar as the soon to be bamboozled stallions were buttered up and sold on buying some booze for themselves. It was hard to pull off, but the jealous mare act was often a killer move to loosen a stallion up for suggestions. It really pumped up their ego.

The sound of whirling blades could be just heard over the pumping music as Harp’s drone, Order, flew over to me. The front part of its gun had been removed and a metal plate put in front so that it didn’t frighten the customers, by Watersputs demand. “Miss Star Charter, Madam Harp wants to let you know that she may be staying here a bit late.”

I leaned back to see that she and Cloudy were actually enjoying their time with the dusty looking client. Not my place if they wanted to get in that part of the business here. At least it was with another mare, so they should be just fine.

“You can still be easily rearmed, correct?” I asked Order.

It bobbed in a nod motion. “Correct, Miss Star Charter. The barrel and tank can easily be rescrewed back in place. I also still have the three shock talismans installed for defensive spell activation.”

I didn’t know much about robots, but it was becoming clear that it could do some crazy shit.

“Alight,” I acknowledged. “Then I won't wait for her.”

Order flew off, picking up a bottle of the house Vodka and took it to the two stallions I was about to throw out. Ruffled Feathers Vodka, as it was called, was Waterspout’s own batch he sold. It was basically cheap booze that had medical herbs soak in the tank for several days before being bottled. It helped smooth out the harsh bite of the booze enough for it to be sold as a higher quality drink.

Letting the mare, Dry, get them to take a shot before trotting back over, she gave me another wink, signaling it was time for me to get the chem addicts out of here.

“Good news. The manager said yes,” I told them. The stallions took a second shot to celebrate.

Taking them to a side door, we had four ways to get out here in case of emergencies. Waterspout believed that having only one exit was a recipe for disaster, something about fires. Lucky for me, taking a side exit lets me quickly get rid of troublesome ponies and keep them out of sight if I need to rough them up.

Unfortunately, I could not simply close the heavy door on them, as they would simply try and get back into the tavern from the front, likely causing a scene. I would need to get the message across that they should fuck off and get drunk elsewhere while still telling them that they’re welcome to return without the chems.

“So, show us some leg, sweet flanks,” One of them said before taking a swig of the cheap vodka.

“Ya! Shake your hip and take off those clothes!” the second added.

I thought about what I should say for a moment, trying to come up with the best way to say no.

“You’re fucking idiots. I’m the goddess damned bouncer!” Ya, that should get the point across.

The second stallion snickered. “Ya, bouncer on my dick!” His dilated eyes told me that he was already in his own world and soon will be crashing down like a wing shot pegasus.

Taking an even longer pull of the bottle, the first stallion then passed it to his friend. About half the bottle was already gone, so he was going to start getting real drunk, real soon. “You're a what, bitch? Better start the show. I’m getting real bored, missy.”

I rolled my eyes. “The bouncer,” I tried to clarify. “My job is not to get you off, but to get you out. Chems, like dash, are prohibited from being used in the tavern, so you two need to leave and sober up before coming back. Am I clear?”

The first snarled at me. Clearly this was going to get a bit fun. “Bitch!”

Going in for a tackle, I just let him collide with me as I braced myself. Drunk and high ponies could take a hit, but they were sloppy fighters. I learned this from Victoria so long ago. She showed me that having a clear head was better than the extra focus from chems. The boost chems could give were great, but the crash soon after left a pony easy to destroy.

As I predicted, I only got pushed back a hoofstep and he then slipped onto the floor. With the aggressor at hoof level, I simply stepped on his head and held him there, pushing his face in when he struggled.

“MY TURN!” the second stallion muffled out a shout as he then swung the now nearly empty bottle with his mouth. Weapons were only good if you can hit a pony with them, making getting under the strike zone a good way to avoid the worst of it. He only managed to hit me with his jaw as the bottle passed overhead. With a quick thrust forwarded, I collided my own head with his jaw, knocking him back a few steps and dropping the bottle.

The first pony growled as my movement pressed his face into the ground more.

Looking at the two mess of stallions, this fight felt… boring. I sighed.

“Listen here, you two. I literally ripped through a shit ton of raiders just today, so save yourselves the trouble and fuck off. You don’t need to get your asses beat raw, and I have better things to do.”

I let go of the first stallion. He got up, stepped back, and dusted himself off.

“Here, if you come back tomorrow without the dash, I’ll personally sit with you two,” I offered. “Maybe introduce you to one of our more passionate mares in the brothel.”

I lowered my gaze at them, making sure to add a hint of fear through my eye’s magic. “But if you two keep this up, I will be breaking a leg each. Got that?”

There was a quiet pause. Again, the gears in their heads flaked off rust.

The first then huffed. “Fuck it, fine!” He turned to trot off. His now crashing friend followed him as the jitters made him twitch.

Taking a moment to breathe in the sour-smelling air, I returned to the tavern.

Victory also taught me to be ruthless, not to give a pony a second chance to come after me. All her lessons never quite solidified until after I left the Blackwater. But then I was with Prism, who kept telling me not to go and get into fights. To try and talk shit out. She wanted me to be a good filly, not some thug.

Yet fighting was all I was good for. After running through that stable, going hoof to hoof with that armored raider, I now knew myself better. It was exhilarating, both hitting and getting hit, crushing my enemies under hoof, and the taste of blood in my mouth. I was truly myself among the violence. I know that now.

Returning to my post, I again eyed the floor. Nothing out of the normal going on.

My eyes again returned to Harp. Did she feel the same as me? No, I decided. She clearly hated the violence. She was too strict with her actions and too ready to fall apart when we were safe. Yet she took the more extreme actions, and she did it without hesitation…

Harp and Victoria were so much alike, yet nothing alike at the same time.

Also, fighting with them felt different. With Victoria, we split off. We fought in our own way, and we came together once the enemy was dead. It was fun, but… unfulfilling.

On the other hoof, fighting with Harp, Slowtrot, and the Axle sisters was… I don’t know… but we were a team. We stuck together, and stomped those raiders underhoof. When I was struggling with that raider, Harp gave me some covering fire to open the raider for my counter-attack. When I got hurt, Slowtrot was ready to help patch me up. I was needed, and I did good.

I…

I need to sleep on this.

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-Reputation-

-Ruffled Feathers-

With the threat of night attacks by the raiders over, the tavern workers and patrons can breathe easy. They know who to thank for that, some even singing a song about the story the three have told them. The three are idolized among the workers of the tavern.