Fallout: Equestria - A Good Teacher

"...I just said that you should find friends, nothing more."

The fluorescent lights played in the wet tears that obscured my vision. Every minute, hordes of foals rushed past along the corridor, demonstrating with their whole appearance how one should really spend time during recess at Stable 2. But I, despite the general joy, cried uncontrollably. Leaning against the wall, dropping quick tears onto the clean floor.

And the reason for this outrage was very simple and could easily pass for a pass to a party of broken hearts and hooves: I fell in love and turned out to be a complete fool, and he... Argh! Stallions! The only thing he was interested in was this stupid tournament of some video game, and he brushed me off like an annoying bug. Celestia, Luna, it was unfair! Just pointlessly stupid. I'm better!

However, I found myself alone, in the corridor, behind the door.

Everything added fuel to the fire. The taunts of the nasty radio magic teacher coming through the wall, the loss of my favorite shipbuilding magazine and that boring but so fascinating in its mystery textbook on magic... Even laughter! Every time laughter came flying in from somewhere, I sobbed, choked and began to sob with renewed vigor, like a little filly.

"Forget about him already," said the silver-furred unicorn, looking sympathetically from under her tangled chestnut mane. "Who is he that you should cry over him?"

"Did they kick you out, too, *sob-sob*?!"

"They let me go," she said in a malicious tone, beaming with a smile. "For the entire next lesson. Don't be sad, let's go to the cafeteria instead. The earlier we come, the earlier we leave.

"I'd be happy to, honestly! But forgive me, Gast, I-I... I still have to apologize. And... I'm an idiot! Damn it. What a fool I am, I forgot to grab my bags."

"Bummer, friend."

"Uh-uh-uh" I howled in frustration. More than anything, I didn't want to go back to the classroom full of mocking ponies for my things.

"You know what? I'll take your bags myself, well, at the end of the lesson. Apologize? Ha! What else, maybe dance them a friendship dance? Pffffff! No way! They should apologize to you! The stallions will get treated the way they treat us!"

“Uh-huh,” I sniffed.

"Well, don't be sad, I'll be back soon. I promised dad something."

I was alone again and it seemed that only apple ice cream could save me from this hopeless situation. I reached out a hoof to wipe away a tear that had made a new path for itself, which made my cheek itch, when suddenly someone gently touched my thigh.

"Miss Unicorn? Can you help?" the tiny unicorn pony, her turquoise mane barely reaching my chin, said softly. "I was wondering if you might have some..."

“Otherwise, everyone we asked was too busy,” came the voice of an equally young filly, the color of an orange, from behind. She made a strained, serious face and, deliberately lowering her voice, said: “No time” or “Sorry, too much work.”

I adjusted my round glasses, looking at the earth pony's light orange fur, her slightly darker and richer thick bangs and the thick braid lying on her shoulder.

"...you can't get anything out of adults, they're always busy. I mean, you're not so old that you don't have anything to do, are you?"

"I don't think so. Of course, I'm happy to help."

"By the way, I'm Mango! And this is Quiet Sparkle."

"What is your name?"

"Mary."

"What a strange name, why did they call you that?" the little unicorn babbled.

“I don’t know,” I said shyly, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, let's go, Miss Mary."

As the children led me along, a pony named Quiet Sparkle told me in a charming childish manner about her brother, a paper airplane, and, in general, everything became clear.

When we arrived at the scene of the emergency, I saw a small white unicorn with a pink mane, whose horn sparkled with dull sparks as it desperately tried to reach the paper toy. The unicorn was balanced on the shoulders of an earth pony, who was standing on his hind legs against the wall. The wayward flying machine itself was not just under the ceiling. Its white figure was high up in an open ventilation pipe, stuck to the grate. It was pinned by the flow of sucked-in air.

It was scary from such a height. My hope to solve the problem hid in my mane at one moment, on the back of my head, which is why it began to itch badly. My hoof itself reached out to scratch the mane, but I held back. The children were counting on me.

Gradually the thoughts lost their form and dissolved, rushing towards the horn as a single mass. I felt a tingling sensation, as if a thousand tiny needles, barely touching the surface of the horn from the inside, played and shimmered in waves at the behest of my magical thought.

I reached up and the further I moved away from myself, the smaller my thought became, the harder it became to rise higher. I timidly touched the edge of the paper wing, with effort pulled it towards me. I only managed to move the toy to the side, and even this trifle was difficult.

I needed to turn it nose down. I tensed up, and the sharp end slightly deviated from the grate. A jerk, and both wings were already gliding through the air on their way to the floor. Gradually descending, the paper figure felt more and more obedient. Finally, I lowered the airplane to the delighted faces of the seven foals crowded around me, and everything became wonderful...

The collar finally dried out and there was no longer any discomfort in the feeling of coziness. Despite the fact that without the main component - the helmet, this clothing could not provide significant protection even with an extra bulletproof vest, I felt good in a leather jacket and thick jeans. In the end, the most important advantage of the pants was that they hid my cutie mark from prying eyes, so unnatural, strange for the outside world.

The omnipresent clouds had lightened, losing most of the dirty gray that framed their titanic silhouettes. It was midday, which meant there was plenty of time. The hills on the horizon blocked my view, making it impossible to see the rest of the route even from the roof, but I didn't care. The updated pipbuck map led me around a cluster of train tracks that would make a great ambush spot.

I was walking towards my intended destination, hoping to get there by evening, when I suddenly heard a strange sound behind me. An electric crackle, a hubbub and... rhythmic low beats that sounded like a drum roll. Music! It seemed like someone was having fun. I didn't try to figure out anything specific in this confusion, but turning around, noticing an incomprehensible silhouette in the distance, I hurried to hide between large stones that had gathered in a half-meter crater.

The engine roared, heavy electronic music began to sound clearly, rolling around the area with bass beats and someone's indistinct singing. At the edge of the background, someone's maned figure flashed for a moment from the cloudy shroud, and then disappeared behind the stone horizon. Gradually moving away, the music died down without a trace, leaving me in silence.

I didn't even want to know who it was.

"Look! Look at her! - I rejoiced, spinning around in place."

No matter how hard I tried, the white mound of cereal kept running away, taking the picture on my side with it. All this foolishness made me dizzy and I staggered and fell onto the clean floor.

"That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you!" came the soft voice of the unicorn, on whose velvety black side the singing bird was hovering. "If you sit still, I can tidy up your mane."

"Nonsense! I won't dress up too much and I certainly won't wear a dress."

"Well, why not?"

"What if my friends think I want all the attention to be on me?"

"Okay, you look good as is. But now," something moved in my hair, "now it's even better."

I blinked and looked through the hovering mirror at a slender, pretty young filly, in whose golden-straw hair, near her ear, a living apple blossom had appeared.

"Oh, what... He's magnificent, thank you!"

She smiled tenderly and went out, leaving me to look at the picture on her side, drawn, it must have been, from the most beautiful dreams of my imagination: a clear Sun in a blue sky, illuminating with its rays the green hills and the smooth stream among them.

"08" - a yellow number on a blue background struck the perception. And then the next one - "29", and after it - "98", "13"... A shallow ravine, stretching along the city wall, was dappled with faded fabrics of blue and yellow overalls, stained with blood. "19"... "89"... "77"... "45", "45" and another "45", and another, and another!

Hundreds. I was afraid to guess the exact number, standing at the edge of a ditch littered with the dead.

"...so many Stables!.. Even foals. Gracious Celestia..."

I looked, running my gaze over the bodies of the dead, mostly dressed in blue and yellow overalls. I looked in search of a single number, but could not find it. Some of the bodies were in rags, some were naked, the rest were hacked and shot beyond recognition, and there was not a single overall with the number "02", which explained one simple truth. It made it clear that the door of Stable 2 was not left closed to everyone for no reason.

There were very fresh bodies here, in whose eyes the white bellies of carrion-eating worms were just beginning to shine, and there were also those that had lain for several weeks or years, or maybe more. There was not a shred of skin on their disfigured bodies, and of their faces there remained only smiles, the eternal smiles of skulls.

In less than an hour of trotting, I reached a settlement surrounded by an impregnable ring-shaped wall made of wagons, unlike that iron junk in the north of Ponyville.

Chewing on a cigarette, a sullen stallion on a wooden tower, reinforced with sacks and barbed wire, pointed a heavy machine gun at me. It was like a question: " HELLO, WHO ARE YOU?"

I lifted my right leg and waved in greeting. He grinned and pointed the barrel of this terrible weapon away, gesturing towards the gate. It was easy to guess how much killing power was hidden in this high-tech accumulation of metal, from which hung a long belt of large-caliber cartridges. For several minutes, I did not leave the feeling of shock experienced at the moment my gaze met the blackness of the barrel. It would be stupid to look into the city of raiders and leave unharmed, and then, just like that and without any reason, be shot here, on an island of civilization and order.

I walked through the open gates past several perceptive guards and, meeting what I thought was the most friendly of them, spoke up:

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for my sister."

"She wasn't here."

Sister clearly didn't show up here, otherwise why would the initially interested ponies I approached with questions all shrug their shoulders hopelessly and dryly say that they don't know anything and wish me luck?

Stopping pushing my problem on everyone I met, I trudged down the street. In the end, I was just tired. Velvet wasn't here and that was it! I had to move on. Anticipating the full weight of the road ahead, I winced and decided that I simply had to catch my breath.

The brightly lit bar was filled with the loud laughter of noisy groups of drunken workers. Glassware clinked, dirty jokes were told, and someone even tried to sing across the melodic voice of a mare pouring out of a speaker at the bar, where a red-haired barpony was spinning like a top around a group of armed guards choosing the tastiest snacks.

A sparkling clean glass with an amber drink was on the table. I took out the PP and put it on the table, feeling freedom and lightness in my chest. The magazine was tightly wrapped with black tape, hiding from prying eyes the shameful fact - the lack of cartridges. The previously formidable weapon was now only good for throwing, or hammering nails.

I was haunted by the intense gaze of the bristly Earth stallion sitting at the empty table near the speaker. He had been watching me since I had arrived. I tried to ignore him, but when the whiskey finally ran out and I had to stand up, the mysterious pony nodded his head invitingly to the next seat. I couldn't object.

"You're not from around here, are you? I know every pony, and you're not one of them. Where are you from?"

"What is this all about?"

"I talk a lot, where are my manners! Besides, my dear: we can fix this! - he smiled. - Mallory, pour this filly at my expense."

"I'd be happy to, but actually I've already had a drink..."

"Don't you have anything to talk about, or maybe you have urgent matters to attend to? Don't refuse! I'm offering this once."

"Well, okay, thank you," the barpony smiled good-naturedly, putting two glasses of excellent whiskey on the table. "I'm looking for one particular pony. A black unicorn with a white mane with colored streaks, she looks about twenty years old..."

I described Velvet's cutie mark in detail. My interlocutor whistled.

"No, such a bird has never flown to us, but it seems that I know what you need and I will gladly tell you."

I drained the glass in one gulp.

"Really?! Will you help me?"

"Of course! After you visit my shop. I see you just came from the wasteland, you'll probably want to exchange some things, right?"

A guard with a long scar running diagonally across his face stood at the thick iron door of a lonely carriage, looking sideways at me with his grey eyes.

“Is this a store?” I asked.

"Are you looking for trouble?" he muttered through his teeth.

"And what?"

A pair of guard mares emerged from behind the carriage. The stallion spat at my feet.

"Are you looking for trouble?!"

"Not at all! I came to buy some cartridges."

"Ah, well then come in, why didn’t you say so right away?"

…?

"That's what I said."

“She’s with me, let her pass,” the salesman said.

"Let's start with what you would like to buy."

The low sales counter in the freight car was rich in some military medicines, boxes of cartridges of various calibers, especially cartridges from the box marked "12.7" were found in almost every box, piled up a little here and there. In the most visible place was a slightly open case with an oiled machine gun belt "7.62x54". Nearby, a dozen dynamite sticks were stacked in a neat pyramid.

"What are those twelve and seven for?"

"You can shoot from a machine gun, or hit from a sniper rifle, whichever you prefer. By the way, between you and me, one pony who liked to stock up on these cartridges really offended me. It's absurd, of course, but in my opinion, sniper cartridges can lure this thief here, and then... my security will take care of everything."

"What did he do?"

"He stole the caps from me. All of them, regularly. Then he bought them from me with the same money. With my caps, do you understand?! I'll personally break off his filthy horn when we meet. Okay, if you see him, say hello from me, or give him a bullet in the forehead. You'll get a reward for the second. Well, are we going to decide something?"

Behind the stallion's back stood two high-explosive rockets, proudly leaning on their plumage.

"I don’t even know... Do you have any healing potions?"

"Unfortunately, the last one was taken yesterday."

I looked around the assortment with doubt, when suddenly I noticed the red cylinders of shotgun cartridges, and then something even better – a box of “10”

"Ten? Good choice. With magazines for the gun, the price is double. How are we going to pay? Do you have caps?"

I have three guns, so what's the problem with getting rid of one? I took the heavy shotgun off my back, and also placed the stolen shotgun and two pipbucks on the table in front of the stallion.

“I can’t decide about this gun,” I pointed at the shotgun, “is it possible to get some ammo for it?”

The stallion briefly looked at the weapon I had obtained and shook his head.

"No, girl, that's an eighth caliber, no one uses that stuff anymore. Antique, old stuff, damn it. I'll be surprised if it even shoots."

“I should know,” I said, touching my shot shoulder.

"Let's do it this way: I'll take this bucket from you for thirty "tens", the double-barreled shotgun for forty-five and both pipbucks for thirty. In total, you have one working barrel, three full magazines and another fifteen rounds in reserve instead of three empty barrels. Deal?"

On my leg was the pipbuck of the raider, whom I sent to the goddesses. Her model turned out to be more perfect, and not at all as worn out as my "watch"

"Two magazines and sixty rounds. Instead of iron, give me some caps in change."

"True, you'll need them, it's getting dark. No matter how much your friend needs "help", I assure you, you shouldn't be wandering around the wasteland at night, otherwise you'll need help. However, you can find something else important to do, can't you? Ponies like you and me can take care of more than just ourselves, you know what I mean?"

"What are you hinting at?"

The merchant looked around suspiciously and spoke in a half-whisper.

"One wandering zombie trader completely got on my nerves."

"And what?"

The merchant enthusiastically told me about the threat to honest citizens, about some kind of conspiracy, which he, of course, would not be able to prove, but "serious matters require decisive measures." Trying to convince me of his rightness, and to taint his competitor with all mortal sins, the earthly stallion wholeheartedly promised to reward me with cartridges, money... Celestia, canned peaches? Is that possible?.. In the name of the Moon, two hundred years!..

"You were commissioned to take care of this Velvet. I don't know what she did, but since you know your stuff, why not take on another easy job? - The absurdity of the situation almost made me sick. I stood up firmly, collecting my thoughts. - Well, what? Don't refuse. Take her away quietly and come back, I won't remain in your debt."

"You guessed wrong, I'm not a mercenary. Better not drag me into this, I don't want to take unnecessary risks. And it seems to me that you're not interested in her death out of heroic motives, huh? Find another fool for the dirty work."

"Okay, okay, hush. I was just suggesting. Take the ammo and get out. I mean, yeah, I promised. Give me your leg with your bracelet, - my head was spinning with excitement. My heart skipped a beat and I handed him the pipbuck. - Yeah, that's where Old Appleloosa is. They saw your friend there."

"Really?! Is she there? Is she there now, or has she already left?!"

"I don’t know, girl, moderate your ardor until tomorrow, you need somewhere to spend the night, right?"

“Somewhere, not-at-your-home,” I shook my head, feeling myself spinning from the two glasses of whiskey I had warmed up.

"Of course, of course, I know a great hotel here..."

I handed him a sealed bottle of Sparkle Cola.

“If only there were ten of these…” the merchant grinned.

"Damn you!.. Why is it so expensive?"

"Okay, I get it, there's a cheaper one. Add your change and the room is yours for the night."

"Agreed."

We went to the other end of the city and entered a dilapidated building.

An unfriendly security guard with a carbine on her back took the fee and led me to the second floor.

As I walked, I remembered a stupid tune from some song: "Carbine, carbine, my mother has more than one, more than one, more than one"

The stallion stood at the exit all this time, smiling, and when I finally found myself in my room, legally paid for with my money, on a real bed with a real mattress and a real blanket, I no longer cared about my headache or the conversation between the salesman and the guard, which had somehow gone too short and well. Who cares? If there is money, all other questions disappear. Did I mention money? Yes, my room turned out to be completely dark, and apparently no one had provided lighting.

As I tossed and turned under the blanket, I kept feeling like someone was looking at me from the darkness. It seemed like I actually saw someone's shadow flicker, but the pipbuck only showed the guard's mark and nothing else.

I couldn't fall asleep for a long time because of the obsessive desire to inhale some of the pink substance from the breathing inhaler, which, although empty, still emitted a familiar invigorating smell, it seemed too good to just throw it away.

"...so what if she's pretty, she's a weakling. What's the point of her messing around here? For that kind of money? - someone's whisper broke through the drowsiness."

"…we will get much more than we paid this goat."

What the heck?..

"She's waking up!"

Opening my eyes in surprise, standing up, I only managed to catch a glimpse of the key in the earthly stallion's teeth. At that very moment, a rag covered my face, the scent of lemon hit my nostrils, and everything turned black.

A quiet spark hovered in the darkness, illuminating the outlines of the waves of the seething stream. It froze, and then dived into the water and rushed into the depths, trying to illuminate every nook and cranny of this underwater corridor.

"Mary! Can you hear me?! What's wrong with your eyes?!"

I froze, looking in confusion at the fair-haired, green-eyed filly, whose face showed genuine concern.

"Wait, don't distract me. I think I know where the right turn is here."

“What is she doing?” the foggy words reached his consciousness as the golden light once again floated along the water purification pipe of Stable 2.

I approached the iron filter grate and was about to slip through it when suddenly something rocked in the air pocket on the surface. It was a toy wooden boat.

"Found it!"

The wind tickled my fur. Something soft moved under my chest. I winced, tried to get up, but all my legs were tied and I just dangled upside down, catching a stone with my horn.

"Ouch"

"Discord take you," someone cursed beneath me. "Come on, wake up! I'm too lazy to drag her along."

"Don't wake her up early, or she'll start kicking."

"Yes, she’s already wriggling on me, sliding to the side, the fat mare."

"You said she was weak?"

"Try it yourself for half a day... on your own fours."

"If you haven't forgotten, I'm carrying the gear. Okay, we'll make it to the dacha and stop."

The cork popped, the familiar sweet smell of lemon crept into the air. Someone was saying something, someone's hooves were clicking on the stones, but falling asleep again, I was no longer aware of what was happening.

Note: New level!

Stealth. In your case, the ability of opponents to sneak up on you without being noticed. Let's see what you do now.