MLP-Multiverse: Chimera - The Snake's Charm

Chapter 5: Dogs Are Barkin'

"Always better to travel with a friend, even if he ain't a human. You can agree with that, eh Snake?"

We had been traveling for a bit, and we just came to a depression, part of which is blocked by a massive chain link fence. We would have to detour down the railway we were walking on, but past the fence, I see what he was talking about. There's a big junkyard, lots of car husks, broken down buses, stacks of discarded tires and hubcaps, even a couple of boxcars, one of which is still suspended by a giant crane. Well, that won't be a constant worry. somewhere between them all, in front of the house, I see a mattress, a campfire made of one of the discarded tires, and a fridge. A fridge, with no electricity? Of all the things I'd seen, that was one of the stranger ones.

"Is this the place, Dick?" I turn to our guide, and he nods in agreement.

"Yep, what's mine is yours, bro. Uh, but it's also mine, so watch yourself." he gives a nervous laugh and starts walking toward the sleeping spot next to fridge, where he unrolls the sleeping bag and promptly gives a whistle... PHWWWWT! that little shit! I reach for my switchblade and Butch pulls out his pistol. However, Dick looks back at us and starts grimacing. "Hey, hey, wait a second! I'm just callin' him out." We have no idea who he's talking about, but we wait a few seconds, and a big dog suddenly bolts towards Dick, jumping onto him and licking his face. Wow, I had no idea a dog could survive this mess.

"Izzat a DOG? How did you find one of those!?", Butch was apparently thinking the same thing as me.

"I dunno, He's just been here since I found the place. He hasn't tried to jump at me or anything. Most dogs around here'd rip your damn throat out, but this guy ain't so bad.", Dick responded.

I walk up to the dog, bend over and start running my hoof behind his ears, in my best attempt to scratch, but he seems to like it well enough. He's a cute little fella, probably a German Shepherd by the look of him. I'm surprised he looks so normal compared to the rest of this dump. I look around the rest of the place and i see a small office building, presumably belonging to the previous owners of the junkyard, and i begin to wonder. Turning to Dick, I ask him a question.

"Hey, why don't you sleep in the office there?"

"Yeah, never occurred to me... Not at all.", he laughed nervously, and i figured he was being a smartass. Well, I try the door and sure enough, I see what he means. It's locked. I think... nah, I was better at fixing things than breaking into shit. I look over at Butch.

"Hey Butch, got a lockpick? or do you even know how to lockpick?", I ask.

"I dunno, do you?"

"No. At least, nothing like this. It's well-kept, but i figured if it's stayed locked this whole time, maybe we could sleep inside it, OR there's something inside?", I raise an eyebrow at Butch and he understands. I think he's glad he kept me around. Wally would probably just constantly shit-talk him, and Paul or Freddie would do whatever they were told... Not a good idea when you yourself don't know what you're doing.

Butch walks past me and readies a foot, "Well, there's always THIS way." and without warning, he kicks the door in as if he's stomping a bug. The fact that he can be this tough so long as there are absolutely no radroaches around still astounds me. Either way, the door itself folds under the weight of his kick and caves, the sides splintering to useless chunks of firewood. Well, there's another idea. I gather the pieces of wood and place them around the campfire as Dick pulls some packaged food out of the fridge. He grabs the wood from me, and I turn back to Butch, where he's grinning like a fool at his "triumph", and I grin just as widely as he is and say...

"Thank you, Butchie...", I try to be as obnoxious as possible, just to mess with him a little bit.

"Fuckin' smart-ass.", I laugh to myself as I see him roll his eyes, but I'm happy since he's still smiling. I catch up to him as we both approach the inside of the office building. Dick is curious, as I see him stir in his seat, but as I wave for him to check it out with us, he tells me to go ahead. He probably wants to spend time with his puppy. I follow Butch inside and start searching the place for anything we can bring back. Dick was never in here, so if there's packaged food, he didn't find it. I find a couple of loose paper bills... is this the stuff Humans used for money? huh, maybe I should stow these in case there's a use for em. I search around a bit, finding little things, like pencils, documents, even a coffee pot. I can't find anything interesting, until Butch yells out, "Hey guys! I found food!"

I hightail it to the same room I heard the noise, and I stop at his side... There it is. I've read about these old machines, Eat-O-Tronics, they're kinda like giant fridges for the wall... Even though fridges are already plugged into the wall... Humans make some strange items. Well, we look inside the damn thing, and the Eat-O-Tronic is full of food, alright. Moldy, two-centuries-old food. Ugh, the rotten stench is already leaking out around us, and I yell for Butch to close it. Oh god, please no... there has to be something here, but where? We NEED to bring food back to the vault. The more I think about it, how well was this planned out? Why would they send out 5 teens from the vault to bring back food? Wouldn't we be stocked well enough for a vault meant to house the "Bright Future of America?" Why are we running out of food? Why send us? I need to ask Mr. Mack a few more questions once I get back. Well, there's one more room to check, but I hear Dick calling for us. Apparently, food is ready. Butch looks over at me and I wave for him to go. I still have one more room.

I enter through the office door and see several things. immediately to my left, next to the door, there's a vending machine for Nuka-Cola... Great, except how do I get the Colas out? I think of the money I just found, but then again, I DO know my way around machines... After a bit of fiddling with the lock in front, I pop open the front of the machine and inside I find about 3 Nuka-Cola bottles. Perfect! Afterwards I see a desk with a computer. Oddly enough, it seems to have survived after all this time. I don't know what good a computer is going to do, so I decide to ignore it for now, but I keep looking. I find a small safe under the computer, but again, I lack the ability to lockpick to such an extent. Let me think, how would I open a safe if not by lockpicking. While thinking, my eyes roll over the computer again, and I think about it. There's no way... attach a computer to a lock-and-key style safe? There has to be some kind of trick. I boot up the computer and see a problem, the thing is locked up, and I need to think of a password. These old model computers seem like the ones they have in the vault too, and that's a relief, since they always give you multiple choices. Seems stupid, I think, but it suits me just fine.

I look through the words and think. If I get about three wrong choices, I can log out and try again. I figured that out when me and the guys were kids, we were trying to break into Mr. Mack's computer to do... things that young guys do on computers. You know what I mean, I think. Beginning the process, I try and fail several times, but I keep having to "relog" as I call it. What could it be? Okay, now is the time to start thinking. I look around, and try to think of anything in the junkyard or office that fits one of the words. Hmm... AUTO, COLA, CARS, a few of these might work. I type in CARS... nothing. COLA... also nothing. What else is here? I look at the words I chose. both cola and cars have ONE letter right... I can only see one word in common, but... I cannot imagine that thing has been around this junkyard for two hundred years. I type in the last word... DOGS. The screen lights up, flashing a bright green "CORRECT!" on the screen, as it switches to the access screen, I see the option to... open a safe, perfect! I click the option, and I hear a sliding metal lock from the nearby metal box.

Excitedly, I reach into the safe and find... oddly enough, a bag of bottle caps. What good is that gonna do? I look a bit further and find what looks like a box, and inside of it is a large pair of sunglasses with elongated temples that look as if they were made for someone with my facial build. and beyond that, I find an antique pistol, and a glove of some sort. Wait a minute, this isn't a glove. I start to examine it a bit and I see something interesting about it. It's made of several mechanical pieces and fastens directly to an arm, it seems. I see wires that would connect to the inner workings and probably the nerves as well. I look at the fingers, Each one has a skeletal digit covered with several sheets of fiber-thin steel to resemble muscle tissue, with a thin, hard skin over the whole thing. I look back in the box and I find a piece of paper. I unfold and read it to find that it says...

"Hey Boss,
The arm is something I whipped up a while back, I like to call the "Sharpshooter". Put this on what should be your right arm. Use this gun, I call it the "Broadsider", with it. I knew you would need it. This is gonna help you quite a bit, trust me. Look at the instructions I included for the Broadsider. It'll show you how to fire and reload it. Use it wisely, buddy, this gun will keep you alive. I'm sorry your arm got slagged, but I hope you like it."

Wow, Whoever owned this office must've had someone who really cared about him. He gave him a prosthetic arm created just to fire this specific pistol. Looking at the pistol, I notice it looks like a Mauser... no, the Shanxi were what the Chinese called them. The German name, Mauser, was what I always preferred. It was always one of my favorite gun models. Something weird about it though... an engraving on the magazine, and the hammer thingy in the back looks a bit bulkier, like they added more to it. I kinda want to try it out. I don't want to misfire by trying to put it in my mouth... I reach down for the glove and decide to risk it. I slide it on, and I'm met by a huge wave of pain as SNIKT! a series of needles inject into my arm, I feel a crazy sensation in my arm as if something is coursing through it, and as I writhe in pain, the fingers... move?

I hold out the gauntlet and try to straighten out the digits right in front of me... Wow, Human fingers... I'm still wowed about it, but I keep experimenting. Extend, retract... one, two, three, four, and five is the thumb. Maybe if I... I snap my fingers, but a metallic CLANK! plays. Alright, the snapping of my fingers is a negative. Can I open the office door by myself? I walk to the door and reach out for it. I close my fingers around it and turn, not getting too much as a result... It does lose a bit of traction, being mostly metal. It seems I have a highly functional hand attached to my right hoof. I suppose now i should read the manual. Shit, if this thing isn't removable, I've screwed the pooch... and I'm not talking about the one outside.

I thumb through the booklet and find a few things, mostly on how to take care of the gun, so I digest that information, and read on, apparently I can remove it if need be, but I need to pull the wires out of my arm each time... OUCH... I keep turning pages rapidly, and find something else interesting... a set of blueprints. With enough reverse engineering, I could potentially build a left sharpshooter as well. I'm already feeling pretty damn good about breaking into that safe, and a little intrigued at who else must have needed those shades. I make a mental note that I need to keep a lookout for any other other hidden goodies. I rush outside to show Butch, and he's already pulled up a chair beside Dick, and it seems like they're having a good time. Well, if everything's working out...

I walk up to Butch and sit down beside him, showing him the hand I found, and opening a package of salisbury steak and watching how Dick cooks it. He places the steak on a stick and roasts it over the fire, leaving the package with the peas and mashed potatoes to warm by the fire. I follow suit and do the same thing, but it's so much easier than using my hoof to do it. My brain starts to tick, I had eaten meat before in the vaults, and I usually eat by dropping my snout towards it and gobbling it up, having only basic lifting abilities. I can lift huge boxes or carry small items, like my tools or a spatula, but right here is different. This is a chance for me to experience human dining. I think of something from a book I read that I always wanted to try. I saw a picture in a history book once of two boys at an amusement park eating something from a stand called a "hot dog" and they looked so happy, like they lived in a bygone age of peace, where things were simpler. Well, simpler than THIS, at least. I reach down and try to mold the steak into a sausage shape, but it breaks a little bit. I don't mind this though, so long as my next idea works. I reach in to grab the mashed potatoes and start to mold those as well, not very well, as my hoof presses a bit too hard with no sure way to mold the blob, and my hand is functioning, but not suited for more viscous substances. "Well, there go my OTHER dreams of playing the piano and sculpting", I joke to myself.

"Snake, what the hell are you doin'?", Butch asks me.

"I'm uh... trying to shape these mashed potatoes into a hot dog bun.", I say with him responding via his trademark obnoxious laugh.

"Hahaha, a hot dog? Like in those history books?", as I nod my head, he grabs the blob of what I presume is spuds, and molds it into a holder, loaded with his fingerprints "Here, how about that?"

"Dude, it's perfect! I excitedly grab the makeshift bun and hold it close, but not too close to the fire, as if to try and toast it. It only works semi-well, but the spuds just get hot and runny. I hold onto it as best as I can and place the meat inside of it. All that's left is the peas, so I decide to put those on top of the meat. Soon I have a strange hodgepodge of ingredients that very vaguely resembles said hot dog. I see Butch and Dick lean in, waiting to see my reaction, and i flourish the steak-dog, and bring it slowly towards my mouth...

I'm stopped suddenly by something pulling on my leg. I look down and see the dog resting a paw on my leg as he reaches up for my food. Damn, now I have a problem. I don't wanna starve the puppy, so I take a piece of the meat and hold it over to the dog's mouth. He snaps it up greedily, biting into my hoof, but it doesn't register to me as anything more than a slight nibble. My hoof can take a lot of stress, I know that for sure. I watch him scarf it down, bark happily, and after running around in several little circles, he sits next to me, just staring. I have to admit, I like this dog. I finally take a bite of the steak-dog, and start to chew. The bun needs some work, and I would prefer a different topping, but the ingredients came out rather well. I see Butch and Dick now trying to do the exact same thing, before I can warn them otherwise. Oh well, at least they'll figure it out the hard way. After forming and making 2 new steak-dogs and trying them out, I gauged their faces, seeing probably the same reactions I had.

"Ugh... a bit chunky, but not too bad", Butch had to say.

"Yeah, and think, with a bit of tweaking, I could make this a common thing. Imagine dudes, Snakebit's Steak-Dogs, finest in the wasteland!", i start doing my best impression of one of those old commercials for a restaurant. After getting a few laughs, I get a couple of questions about the robot hand I've been using, I tell Butch about the safe I opened and how I found this gauntlet, and he asks if he can try it out. "Butch, last time I checked, you had both your hands and all ten fingers. Besides, this thing has a boot up sequence you would NOT like."

"Oh yeah? What's it do?", He asks, with Dick now leaning in to listen as well.

"It has these tiny needles that stick into your arm and inject something, but I'm guessing it's because it was made for people who don't have hands, so maybe it helps whatever they have get re-accustomed." Butch takes a long look at it, seeing the sleeve that leads to the gauntlet, If I were him, I would probably be thinking about how the cybernetic hand either fits a ruined hand, and provides framework, or a stump with no hand, and takes the full function of the hand, adapting to the damage the victim has sustained. Later, he responds simply with a basic observation.

"Hey dude, did ya notice the little eight here?"

"Huh? Whatcha mean?", I look at the same area, the upper part of the palm, right in the center of the hand, is what looks like a figure eight, and a word spelled sideways.

"Hey Butch, look at the word at the side of the eight... or UNDER it.", I point it out to him, and he looks. He reads out loud...

"Our Rob or Ross? The hell is that?", he scratches his head and looks at me.

"I dunno why you expect me to know... Maybe it was the company that- No, it was made specially by a guy for his boss. At least, that's what it said in the letter that came with it." This is something I'm gonna be stuck on for quite some time, but it's starting to get late. I can tell by the almost complete lack of visibility. I head inside of the office, and Butch follows suit, Dick and his dog take another room, but before he steps in, he says he needs to take care of something. I wave to him and the pup, saying "Goodnight", as he walks out the door one last time.

Dick walked outside, and over to the nearest boxcar. Trying not to make a sound, he popped open a locked chest and pulled out his hidden cache, about seven sticks of dynamite and a small pistol, and stuffed them into his shirt. Wherever these two were headed, there was either free food and supplies, or more raiders. Dick needed to be prepared, for ANY occurrence. He looked back at the office and scoffed, they'll have a good night's sleep tonight, that's for sure...

Leveled Up. Perk Selected.

"Kiss The Cook"

Havin' fun around the campfire is your specialty! You can now improvise new recipes out of packaged foods and do a permanent +20% damage with all fire-based weapons.