Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

The Desperado’s, Part 2

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"Having stayed with the Desperados as Harp’s friend, it was fascinating to observe this warrior culture up close. Unlike the other ponies I had seen in this world so far, they didn’t like to live in the ruins of their old world. Instead, they chose to make huts that were both easily constructed and packed away.

The only old things they did hold onto were their old guns, vehicles, and ponies. All things they held in high regard for how much they needed them to live their way of life. For them, if it was not useful or held any meaning, they didn’t feel the need to maintain it. Better to sell it off or leave it along the side of the road rather than let it drag them down.

Unfortunately for them, this also meant that if a pony has new ideas or some new invention, if it is not quickly proven useful to the rest of them, it is forcefully dropped. There is little room for brilliant inventors, reclusive scientists or eccentric artists. Such things are needed for a civilization to grow and not be taken over by its rivals. Strength alone only makes a civilization strong for a brief moment of time." ~ Azure Dice

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Having trotted through the camp itself and seeing the Desperados home up close, it had a strangely comfy feeling to the place. With foals trying to sneak a peek at us, watched over by their parents or older siblings, it made me feel safer than I had for a long time now. Some adults give us less than friendly glances, but they still minded their own business. I even saw a few familiar faces among them. A few gave me a friendly wave.

What really caught my eye was the decorations. A lot of them involved decorated skulls of animals being used as torch parts and their other bones hung up like windchimes. Morbid parts aside, they have impressively tapestries everywhere. Most were more detailed versions of their flags with the quality being inconsistent. Others were detailed in ways that could rival the ones from my home with clear love and care having taken part in the weaving. Some depicted battles and others of what I could guess were family members. Quite unsurprisingly, a few were of their motorcycles.

Nothing here had the shine like the art back in stable 50, but I could see the skill put into the tapestries from just a glance. There had to be a master artist among them for the skill to be this high.

As we trotted up a pathway, we were taken to a much larger tent in between several normal tents. Inside the dim tent, I could see several older ponies sitting at a table, waiting for us. The elders were clearly experienced wastelanders. Scars were proudly on display along with bold tattoos and at least one of them had a prosthetic limb. More importantly, though, they all had the look of a pony in charge. The Unicorn ghoul at the center had this still, yet intimidating appearance.

As my eyes finally adjusted to the dimmer light, I was almost left breathless as I saw the tapestries behind the elders. They were six individual tapestries that made up one image. It was clearly made of fine cloth and rare materials that shimmered in the low light. Looking at them, it was clear to see what it was about. It showed ponies fighting zebras with both Celestia and Luna flying above them. The Desperados rode away from a Megaspell explosion and then formed different campsites along route 50. It was their history in the form of ancient art.

“I see that you enjoy how we honor our history, Miss Harp Melody,” said the gravelly voice of a unicorn ghoul to me. The ghoul was like the few others I had seen before; skinny with almost no fur, thus showing off his leathery skin. His milky white eyes had the barest hint to life in them. He wore clothing meant for a pony much larger than himself, but how he wore it gave off a sense of strength and pride.

“You must be Elder Big Papa,” I addressed the ghoul as I politely bowed.

He looked at me in a way that reminded me of my own mother. Cold, calculating, and with a heavy sense of responsibility. “A polite little lady, aren't you? Not many of those like you left in this world. Most of them have forked tongues, too.” He had a slight accent that reminded me a bit of home. He had the barest inflections of a Canterlot accent.

“Well, when you cannot fight as well as others, having a cunning tongue can make up for it,” I said while holding my head up and looking him in the eyes.

I knew they didn’t like ponies who talked fancy and talked fast, but I also didn’t want to lie to them and pretend to be what I was not. It was going to be better to be Honest in the long run rather than get temporary favor through a lie.

“And where did such a cunning tongue get the pones of old then?” The ghoul asked.

I smiled at him, knowing what he was getting at. “Clearly the world we live in now. Isn’t that right Slowtrot?”

“What?” Slowtrot blurred out, looking between me and Big Papa. “Oh, well there were a lot of things that happened back then, though I guess the Ministry of Image nonstop propaganda made sure nopony could voice against the war without sounding like nutjobs. Then there were the pinks. A few ponies I know who were taken by them made everypony paranoid.”

I looked back at Elder Papa with a smile. “If you want to know about how things were during the war, I’m sure Slowtrot here can tell you all about it. He did come from that time.”

The elder scratched his hairless chin. “He certainly does sound like a pony from back then. And his accent… say colt, are you from the Coltiforna region”

Slowtrots eyes lit up a little. “Yes. Applewood actually.”

The old ghoul squinted his eyes for a moment before relaxing. “Right. You have that stupidly fast-talking accent of those up-tight assholes. Here I thought I would never have the displeasure of hearing it again. Maybe the zebras didn’t bomb it hard enough.”

He then looked over at Star. “And you filly, going to try a fucking story about being from the past? Or let me guess, the descendent of a ministry mare?”

Star cocked an eyebrow for a moment and then smiled mischievously as she chuckled. “If I been a descendent o' a ministry mare aft where I’m from, they would 'ave gutted me an' thrown me to the waters. I don’t know what problem the prophet Roseland 'ad with them, but in the scripture, they was labeled as false prophets who was responsible fer the death o' the goddesses.”

Big Papa froze for a moment before his hoof hit his face. “You're one of those damn pirate loons. How is it you got this far inland… No, I don’t care. Just keep your religion to your fucking self.”

He turned his gaze back to me. Now he really studied me with his eyes. Elder Big Papa then sighed. “So we got a pony who says he’s from wartime, and a member of the Thorns. So what are you supposed to be? A princess or something?”

I had to hold back my own laugh at his guess. I knew it was because of my little horn and small wings. My family hated that about mirage ponies, seeing them as a bastardization of the princesses, made worse by our stripes.

So I took a deep breath. “I am the daughter of Queen Gilded Gold, a Descendant of Princess Platinum. My family has survived in stable 50, awaiting for the time we can go home and rebuild Equestria. It is a dream that will likely never come.”

I then waited for the old ghoul to laugh and mock me. Instead, he slumped back in his chair, looking at me with a curious look on his face. The moment went on in uncomfortable silence with the ghoul just looking at me.

When he finally spoke, his words caught me off guard. “Then would that make you a descendant of princess Majesty, then?”

“Well… yes… you're correct. My ancestor, Majesty, was on the Marewaii islands at the time of the bombs and took shelter in stable 50 along with other famous ponies and many servants,” I stammered out.

He again went quiet. His eyes did not leave my face.

After another long moment, he then glanced away and whistled at one of the Desperados standing guard. “Oy, colt, go get my memory chest. I need to confirm something.”

This got the other elders to become nervous as they began whispering among each other. Some were confused and others were curious. Both of these emotions I shared.

The guard had quickly galloped out and soon dragged in a large old steamer trunk.

Elder Big papa’s horn glowed with magic as he used it to pop open the trunk. Inside were rolls of tapestries, each one looking vibrant in color and made from fine materials. He pulled one out with his magic, then levitated it in front of him as it unrolled the thick cloth. His eyes darted between it and me several times before he smiled.

The ghoul laughed and then turned the tapestry around for us to see it. On it, it showed a young unicorn mare on a motorcycle wearing an olive-green uniform that was a size too large on her. I was shocked to see that the style of her blue mane and tail was just like mine. She even had silver streaks in her mane in the exact same places as I had my gray streaks. The only real difference was that her coat color was pure white and her eyes were purple. She also did not have any stripes. Under here was the world's “Equestria Need You.”

“Oh! I remember that! it’s the poster of Princess Majesty” Slowtrot blurted out.

I trotted up to it in order to get a closure look. “Indeed it is. Even her cutie-mark is correct.” Back home there were several portraits of Majesty, but none of them were of her looking this young. She looked closer to my age in this tapestry.

I looked over at Elder Big Papa, asking only one word. “How?”

He carefully placed the tapestry flat on the table for some of the other elders to see, all while smiling wide. “Before the war, my family worked as personal artisans for the Equestrian royal family. Tailers, seamstresses, anything involving cloth work, we made it just for them. Learned how to professionally make tapestries as a colt. When the war first started, I proudly enlisted. When the princess went on tour to keep the troops’ morale up, I was transferred into the mobile unit that protected her. I was there when this picture was made and kept several of the posters as memories of that time.” Gently stroking the tapestry, the old ghoul sighed with content. “Made this after I retired from the war. Before things had turned for the worse.”

Pulling out several other tapestries from his trunk, they were a mosaic of images. No. Actually they were pictures. Pictures of ponies in the same olive green uniforms as Majesty was, though they filled in the outfits much better than she had. “The war back then was far more… civilized. If we could, we would take prisoners and would conduct regular prisoner exchanges. Nopony wanted to kill each other back then. We just wanted to prove that we were in the right.”

A gravely chuckle came from the elder. “Got captured once when they came to take princess Majesty. Those stripes made a damn good tea and biscuits. If I were a lesser pony, I would have told them what they wanted to know. Got to pay my interrogator back a few months later. Showed him how Canterlot does tea and biscuits. He, too, didn’t tell us anything, but nopony really cared at the time.”

Elder Big Papa placed one of the tapestries down in front of him which showed pictures of the soldiers celebrating and having their photos taken with Majesty. On top of the tapestry and surrounded in a gold embroidered frame were two stallions holding up Majesty on their shoulders. One was a yellow Unicorn stallion with a battle rifle on his back, the other stallion was a blue pegasus with a trench gun. Majesty herself was holding a golden harp. The instrument had almost impossible detail to it and gleaned in the light. Under the image were the words, “Me and my good mate Lt. Windchester, celebrating the Princesses first successful show.”

“Show?” I asked.

The old goul smiled. “Oh yes. Princess Majesty was quite the musician. She sang and played that harp. She was quite the savant at it. I’m sure if she didn’t have other responsibilities due to the war, she would have become quite the star of classical music.”

Hearing that strangely put a smile on my face. “Mother would never let me skip my music classes. She told me if I was going to be good at anything, it should at least be that. I always found it off that she insisted it to be the harp since it was what she named me after.”

Big Papa looked at me and chuckled. “Maybe she saw a bit of Majesty in you. Maybe she wanted to see if you could live up to your ancestors' standards.”

I wasn’t sure it was that, and I’ll never get the chance to find out. Even if the pirates hadn’t taken my stable, Mother was still dying. Last I saw her, she was bedridden and couldn't breathe without assistance.

“Thanks. That’s a comforting thought,” I told the Elder. “But I can’t help but ask; why did you start this gange if you were a royal tailor?”

His happy and content smile faded a bit. “War changes a pony. Makes it hard to return to the life they had before. I no longer cared about making fancy decorations or hearing the ignorant demands of the upper class. While my friends and I fought and died in the war, they were getting drunk on their own sense of self-righteousness. They even looked down on the soldiers still fighting. If I had stayed, I would have killed them, or myself.”

Another tapestry was pulled out. This one showed a large group of ponies on motorcycles. They all had the same helmets that the soldiers in the other images and many of the ponies had military pins adorning their dirty jackets. Some were missing limbs or had large scars on their bodies. It was amazing how much detail was put into the whole thing.

“Found some of my friends from the war,” the Elder resumed explaining, “and formed our own club. All we really did was drive up and down route 50, but it helped keep our minds clear. Of course, there were a lot of ponies who didn’t like to be reminded of the cost of war, so there were a lot of fights in those years.”

“We provided a place to belong for other veterans of the war. In time our family grew, but so had the desire for the ponies in charge to sweep us under the rug,” Elder Big Papa said bitterly. “It was easy to deal with at first, but then the ministries took over. The Ministry of Image and the Ministry of Moral tried to shut us out of polite society by labeling us as deviants and criminals. They even tried to take our guns.”

He pointed at Slowtrot’s trench gun. “Pissed me off how the Ministry of Image tried to make it so that the Windchester’s Trench Gun never existed. Saw my good friend leave Equestria because of that. I’ll never forgive Rarity for what she did to his family.”

The old ghoul then sighed as he slumped in his chair. “Don’t know what came first anymore. It’s been so long. Did we start smuggling chems because we were labeled criminals, or were we called criminals because we started smuggling chems? All I can remember was that, as long as we gave chems to the right ponies, it kept the Ministry of Moral off our flanks.

“Well, as my family grew, so did how crazy all the soft ponies got. It was good for business since it seemed that almost everypony was taking chems now just to get by. But that got us worried, too, since we know what it looked like when a pony was about to snap.”

“That's when you started stocking up?” I checked.

He nodded. “If it was our own, then we could deal with it our way. Help them get it all out of their system. But all the soft ponies cared more about pretending that things were okay. They always feared that the pinks would come and drag them off if they ever stopped stretching their fake smiles. When ponies outside of your control snap, then you must be ready to put them down.” The elder then pointed to a part of the tapestry behind him. “Fortunately most of them didn’t know how to fire a gun correctly, but there were a lot of them.”

The scene on the tapestry showed the Desperados fighting ponies in old-world suits and dresses who were inside ruined houses. A bit past that scene, the well-dressed ponies were replaced with what looked like raiders.

“The first raiders, I guess?” I surmised.

“In a sense,” Big Papa partially agreed. “Most of them were just scared and angry. The world had changed overnight and everything they held with value was reduced to ashes. There was no pony coming to save them, nor any pony coming to condemn them. So, when one of them stepped up to take charge, the others followed. Unfortunately, most of the ponies who took charge were power-hungry psychopaths with a severe chem addiction. We had to put a lot of ponies down back then, mainly out of our own safety with how we were already seen as enemies in their eyes.

“Not saying it was all like that, there were those we could get along with,” he said, taking a more relaxed posture in his seat. “The ponies who lived far away from the cities were ponies we had done business with. There were those who simply had no way to fight and just stayed calm in hopes we didn’t kill them. We helped protect those ponies from the ones who had lost their minds, the first raiders as you called them, and in exchange, we got things we needed to keep on riding.”

“And you have lived that way for over two hundred years now,” I realized.

He nodded. “That is correct. Now that we're talking about the present, why are you here? No pony comes bearing such gifts and does not expect anything in return. I understand you wanting to hide with us for a time, but that doesn't require the gifts you're offering.”

Finally on the topic at hoof, I took another deep breath. “Yes, that is true. For the most part, we are requesting safe passage to the west through route 50 and for the ponies joining us to have shelter within your territory. But I rather not lie to ponies who have been friends to us, and honestly, by having us with you, it may attract dangerous ponies to you and your clans.”

Elder Big Papa cocked his nonexistent eyebrow. “Don’t take the Desperados as weaklings. We can handle anything the wasteland can throw at us.”

I thought he would say that, so I turned to my friends and gave them a nod.

Star Charter spoke up first. “Well, the Chosen… or as you called them, the Thorns, they might be interested in taking Harp for themselves. Bishop Purity Spiral wants grandchildren with true royal blood, and my old gang boss wants to use her as some sort of bargaining chip with the Pope. It's all a bit over my head. Also, I happen to be related to some nobility from the holy fleet. I’m two whores removed as the bishop said, so the bishop wants to use me for the same purpose. Not interested in being some breeding mare for a stallion that looks like a mare and likes to wear pink frilly dresses.”

I was still wrapping my head around that part of her story and that she actually enjoyed having sex with that stallion.

Next was Slowtrot, taking a moment before speaking. “I’m not sure how much Dead Axle has told you, but the boss of Blue Skies, Quicktrot Fragment, is not what she appears to be. Safe to say, she is not even a real pony, or even a living thing. As for how that's a problem, she likely wants me dead for a few reasons that's hard to explain, but I know that as long as I’m far away from her she is not going to bother coming after me. But Harp, on the other hoof, because of her bloodline, she may be able to open doors in which Quicktrot would want to get past.”

The elder pondered on that information for a long moment, staying quiet as he rubbed his chin. “If I didn’t see the image of Majesty in Harp, I’d call you all liars. Even now I don’t entirely believe any of you,” he said with a grimace. “But if true, this would be dangerous for my family. To some ponies out here, such a prize is worth the cost of other ponie’s lives.”

He then let out a gravely, yet bellowing laugh. “But when have we ever shied away from danger? If true, not only will we meet that danger unflinchingly, but with honor. If you truly are the descendant of Princess Majesty, I would truly be honored to once again ride with a member of the royal family.”

“And how would I prove this?” I asked.

A prideful grin formed on the elder’s face as he levitated another, yet far smaller trunk from within the large steamer trunk. “That will be a simple thing.”

Opening the smaller trunk, inside was a gleaming golden harp that looked a lot like the one from the photo of Majesty. The beautiful instrument had a silver engraving of flowering vines that ran along a spiral silhouette of Canterlot. Its strings shimmered like crystals, and I could feel a faint but familiar magic radiation from it.

“That… can’t... be?” I stammered.

“It is,” Big Papa confirmed as he ran his hoof along the strings, yet no sound came out. “Majesty's magical harp. It only played for her and made such a beautiful sound that would warm even the coldest of hearts. It helped lift up soldier’s spirits during the war and helped to remind them why they were fighting as well as not to forget who they were. Many fights were won with ponies humming her tune as they took zebras captive over killing them. It’s an instrument for inspiring civility amidst barbaric hate.”

Trotting closer, the harp was just too beautiful for words to describe. “But why do you have this?”

“I still don’t know myself,” Big Papa said as he hoofed over the harp to me.” Just one day, I was camping out in the middle of nowhere and Princess Majesty just appeared in front of me. She looked sad, but a lot of ponies looked sad at that time. Princess Celestia had just stepped down after the Littlehorn massacre, so many ponies felt lost and angry. She told me to keep it safe and I’ll know why when it’s time for it to be used. Then she simply vanished. Well, I mean, teleported. Not a word other than that to me.”

“She was a mare full of mysteries,” I said as I picked at one of the strings.

*Ping*

Everypony was silent as the harp let out one clear and beautiful note.

I then picked at a few more strings, playing a simple tune. The sound this harp made compared to the one I used back home was far superior in every way, and the one back home was considered a work of art. Not just that, but the sound it made was literally magical. Each note sent a small wave of magic that wrapped around the ponies who heard it.

“And so, I now know why she gave it to me,” Elder Big Papa realized calmly as he got out of his seat with a smile on his face. Trotting around the table with many eyes on him, he then gave me a bow in perfect gentalcolt form. “It will be my honor to escort the descendant of Princess Majesty, as it was my honor to escort the Princess herself. If you would give me this honor, Princess Harp Melody.”

It was strange. I have had ponies bow to me before, but never with such reverence. It didn’t fill me with joy back then but neither did it disgust me. I just felt at ease. Smiling, I told him, “Well I was already asking for an escort, so please lift your head. I may be a royal, but right now you're the most important pony here. I should be the one honored to have you escort me. Who else can I trust but a pony who once served my ancestor?”

Elder Big Papa lifted his head. “Then we are both honored, aren’t we?” He then took a closer look at me. He nodded with a smile. “Yes, that will do. That will do nicely.”

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit confused.

“If you want to ride with us, why not make it official? The others already speak highly of you and your two friends so I doubt anypony would be dumb enough to object.” He then put his hoof on my shoulder. “So let’s have you three officially become Desperados.”

“What?!” I screeched.

The elder chuckled. “Yes. That way none of the other herds will give you any trouble and the other ponies within our territory will show you respect. Also, if the NCR come making demands, it will be easier for us to tell them to fuck off.”

He then took his hoof off my shoulder and offered it for me to shake. “Sounds like a good idea.”

I wasn't sure what to think about it since I was sure there were still strings attached. As loyal as he sounded to be to my ancestor, it had been over two hundred years. Also, I was no fighter like the ponies here. I was the exact opposite of them, not to mention that I plan to reach out to Orthrus and rejoin with them.

“And what if I don’t plan on staying with the Desperados? There are ponies I need to see and I plan on staying with them once I find them again.” I told him.

“Baa!” the elder let out. “Like fuck we control our mares. So long as you don’t betray your family, you can do as you like. Just remember that you have a family with us as well and with us, you will stand strong. Everything after that is just boating bullshit made up by young stallions looking to prove their strength.”

His voice then lowered to a calmer, gentler tone. “If you're worried about us wanting to use you like those other ponies you mentioned, then trust me, we have no interest in doing that. Everything we are, we built with our own hooves. It’s how we have survived, and how we will keep surviving for hundreds of more years into the future. Even if it’s only for a brief moment of time, having you in our family will be worth more than any treasure of the past you can gain us.”

Looking back at Slowtrot and Star, they did seem to know what to do either. Returning my attention to Elder Big Papa, I could see the sincerity in his milky white eyes. Anyways, it’s not like it was going to make anything worse for us. We did break out of prison in probably the worst way possible.

If I had to choose who to join in this wasteland, then the Desperados were far from the worst ones, and ones I felt I could trust. So I reached out and took his hoof. “Elder Big Papa, I would be honored to be counted among the Desperados.”

“You can call me Arras Weaver, Princess Harp Melody,” he told me.

“Then just call me Harp if we're going to be family, Arras,” I told him as I matched his smile.

Arras smile widened. “Then Harp, why don’t we get you ready to join the family? With the food you have brought over, a feast is in order.”

Another feast. I already felt like I regained the weight I lost in the NCRCF, and now I was worried I was going to get fat if this continued.

“Oh, before that,” I stopped Arras. “What about the ponies that are coming with us? Will they have safe passage?”

“If they're with you…” he said, pondering. “Well, it would not hurt to have them take the initiation ritual to see if any of them can join the Desperados.”

“Wait-” I said, but was then stopped by the ghoul putting his hoof in front of my muzzle.

“Trust me, it’s better they take part. Even if they fail, the other Desperados will still show them some respect for at least trying,” he explained to me.

“Alright, but let me explain it to them first,” I proposed with a sigh.

“Better yet,” Arras said with a smirk. “You said you know how to play the harp, right? Why don’t you also put on a little show as well? It’s been over two hundred and twenty years since that harp has been used. Why have it wait any longer?”

I squinted suspiciously at the old ghoul. “You just want to know if I can play as well as my ancestor.”

He chuckled. “Guilty as charged. So, will you do it?”

I looked down at the beautiful instrument in my hooves. It was a piece of my family's history, unblemished by time, or by the hooves of those who would tarnish it. As far as I know, I may be the only pony who can even play it. My nephew may still be alive, sleeping with that harlot of a pirate. Last thing I would want is the first pony to play this after so long be one of a tainted bloodline.

“Alright. I can give it a try,” I said a bit meekly.

“FUCK YA!” Star shouted. “I’ll sing and you play. Slowtrot… you can do the lights or something.”

“Thanks…” Slowtrot said flatly.

“I can do the lights, Madam Harp,” Order spoke up.

I sighed, “No, you all calm down. We're not making a big show of it. Just a small performance.”

Again the old ghoul Arras chuckled. “Why not? Nothing goes better with a feast than a big show.”

Again I sighed. “Whatever. Then a show it is.”

“Well this is a pleasant turn of events. Music is food for the soul, as some say.” Azure spoke up, and predictably, several ponies jumped in surprise.

“What the fuck kind pony is that?!” Arras said in shock.

“That is another story,” I said as I put the harp away into in a case and turned to leave. “But I’ll save it for another time.”

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-Unique Item Obtained-

Majesty's Harp - A well-crafted and fine-tuned instrument made for the Equestria royal family. The tune it makes is enchanting to all that hear it, but can only be used by a member of the royal family.

“Dear Majesty,

It has been some time since you returned to your magic studies after helping the troops in the war. Shutting yourself off is not healthy, and the fact that you have been looking into time magic has me worried. As family and a friend, trust me when I say that time magic only leads to more pain. I will not stop you, but I ask that you come and confide with me about your worries. I do miss our tea parties from when you were smaller. Maybe we can have them again? Just don’t isolate yourself like Twilight. It’s not healthy. Not for you, not for her, and not for me.

Your loving aunt, Princess Celestia.”

Reputation Gan: The Desperados

Well, it’s pretty much official at this point. Welcome to the family.