Prologue: Beginning of the Game
"Why would I give up? I'm on a roll!"
The room was a mess, with random items scattered all over the floor, including a few caps, a hairbrush, a broken pistol, and a mirror that was shattered. The shards littered the floor, but I hardly noticed them even as a few buried themselves into my hoof as I stepped closer to a stallion who had the purest form of fear in his eyes as he stared at me in absolute shock and horror. He looked like he had seen a ghost murder his family, or rather, an alicorn and an old acquaintance murder his family in a cold and efficient manner. But I ignored the fearful gaze and his begging for mercy as I lifted my pistol...
BLAM!
A single shot ringed through the room as I pulled the trigger. His head slammed back against the floor as the bullet tore straight through his skull, his blood splattering on the floor like somepony dumped a bucket of red paint by accident. The only thing that escaped my lips past the rough grip of my pistol was a sigh as I finally did it.... My gaze raised from the fresh corpse and began to wander around the room, lingering on the bodies of a pair of mares that were currently sprawled out on the floor, one with a bullet in her chest and the other who's head was twisted around in an awkward angle with her muzzle pressed against the floor. My gaze then slowly turned to the only other living pony in the room, a tall, purple mare with a pair of large wings capable of rivaling a griffon's with ease... And a horn that lost its pink glow as she turned to me with an emotionless expression.
"It's finally over." I say, my voice sounding tired, yet... Relieved, as I holstered my gun with the smallest smile. "after all this time, I've finally done it.... Thanks, partner."
Ten months earlier...
My muzzle began to scrunch up in a scowl as I stared outside of the window. A sandstorm had appeared rather suddenly during my trek from Memory Town to Red Sprigs, forcing me to take refuge in an abandoned cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Oh Goddesses how I hated this desert wasteland we call the Marejave and all the stupid sand... I have been here all my life, but I still stuck around despite having the opportunity to leave for five long, grueling years. All because of one bastard I had a score to settle with despite it not even being worth it in most ways if I had to be honest.
With a small huff I shrugged my tattered saddlebags off and tugged my flat cap off as well, along with my glasses as they'd become dirty from sand and other small bits of debris. As I pulled out a small cloth to wipe my glasses clean, I began to think of my next move, find a place to acquire caps, likely from winning a few card games if I can even make it to Red Sprigs without dying, get myself a new gun since my old one was decimated by a raider who had rushed me with a hammer, and of course see if there's any rumors of my old man scuttering about and causing trouble. The plan is decent, in my opinion at least that will hold up nicely. Though with simple folks in small towns, elaborate plans weren't needed in all honesty, just a kind face and a deck of cards if I wanted anything, be it caps or information.
Heh, I have to admit that it's rather sad how nopony seems to really realize how bad of an idea it is to play poker against anypony with a card related cutie mark like me and my "Ace of Broken Hearts" as I like to call it, what with it being a single white card with broken hearts in the corners and a bleeding ace symbol. It's just common sense really, so I don't feel horrible if I manage to anypony's last few caps, especially since the fools chose to squander what little they had left instead of pulling out as wise players would. That's my special talent you see, I'm damn good at any card game, be it caravan, blackjack, or poker. I always win, no matter the odds. Some call it luck, others call it skill, even more say it's all because of my poker face. I call it knowing what tables have a bunch of rookies who make plenty of mistakes. .... Don't give me that look, I'm sure you'd do the same.
Plenty of ponies call me a card shark, some call me a no-good cheater. To me, it doesn't matter. As long as I win fair and square, no pony'll try to take away my earnings in the more respectable areas. Hard to pull out cards from one's sleeves without magic anyways, so most ponies don't try to call me a cheat, they just grumble and accept defeat like decent sports. I almost find it funny how some try to blame me for their misfortune, a humble earth pony with no magic, no cards up his sleeves, nothing but a poker face and a smooth way of speaking.
Buuuuuut I digress, enough about card games for now. It was time to look around the small cabin, which had rather sparse furniture that I took note of. Amongst the furnishing was an old wooden table that was propped up by a pair of books under a broken leg, a sleeping cot with a folded up coat acting as a pillow, a footlocker right at the foot of the cot, a small desk with a few spare parts on it, and a single rocking chair. Along with all of this was a dried blood splatter on the wall that I raised a brow at before my gaze slowly trailed down next to the table to see a skeleton with a rusting nine-millimeter pistol on the ground next to it.
"Poor bastard offed himself eh? Can't say I blame him..." I muttered to myself as I grabbed the gun, making sure to flick the safety on before going to check inside the footlocker at the foot of the cot for anything useful.
Old chest holster, I should be able to use fit this rusty old thing in there, though it may be a pain to draw it at times. A monocle that had a cracked lense and was missing the chain, a few caps that I obviously took, a photograph of a unicorn stallion and a filly, both in stable barding, and a small make-up tin with a cracked mirror. Dark green eyes stared back at me, looking me over from my yellow fur to my slicked back white mane. I had no horn, no wings, no fancy stripes. I was an earth pony, through and through... Nothing truly special, especially in this wasteland. Setting the tin aside, I noticed an old jumpsuit in those iconic blue and gold colors under the photograph, though now they were faded and looked tattered. I set the photo and the jumpsuit next to the corpse with a shake of my head, feeling disappointed despite understanding why he may have done it. Though it really didn't matter in the end how I felt as I moved to the cot, unfolding the coat to find it to be in decent condition. It was an old green coat that had a grey undershirt tucked away inside it that likely belonged to a soldier's uniform, though the patches seemed to be missing from the sleeve and the front, if the faded spots were anything to go by.
I slipped the undershirt on, along with the holster, before slipping the jacket on and rolling up the left sleeve so my Pipbuck wouldn't be covered. It was one of my finest rewards, but now wasn't the time to think about any of that. For now, I should get a little rest. I nodded to myself, tucking them under the cot before taking the rocking chair and propping it against the door. Now if only I could cover the window...
With a small frown, I decided to take the table and flip it on its side, rolling it to the window before letting it fall onto its top with a thump. That should at least make it a bit more difficult for anypony who tries to jump through the window like a damn maniac. With that done, I went to the cot and climbed up with a yawn as exhaustion slowly began to creep up into my mind....
"Tomorrow's gonna be a long day...."
♥♥♥
