Fallout: Equestria - The Lunar Archives

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 13: Mom

My vision turned inwards and reality imploded on itself in a swirl of light and void. Reality reforming bout around me and in me. It felt similar to the time I was in that stallion at the concert except this time I had no control, and was huge! My surroundings reformed back into the 83’s chapel, notably with fewer scuffs and less rust.

A hoofful of ponies were filtering out of the room, the last of them looking like overmare Blueburst but in her 30s or 40s, winking back at me as she left. I heard a deep and familiar sigh looking down at the pedestal. My/his hoof closing a tattered book with a silver six-pointed star emblazoned on the cover. “And the usual congregation continues to wane…”

By Celestia’s titanic tits I was in my dad! And there was no better way of wording that in my panic at the time. I just needed to avoid every single mistake I made the last time I was inside somepony else, Like throwing up or- Sweet bucking horse apples I’m a stallion again! And worse It’s MY DAAAD!! All the urge to scream, yet I had no mouth of my own!!

He stretched, popped some bones, and grabbed the ritual bowl in his teeth before catching a glimpse of a cream-colored flank and fire-patterned tail slipping into the confessional. I both did and didn’t recognize who it was. I felt like I was in for something somepony elses antics, yet I had a duty to humor them. “Here we go again…” he muttered making his way over to the booth.

‘So this is how stallions walk with all that extra construction equipment… feels weird and- What am I thinking?!’ I thought wanting to get back to my internal screaming.

“What is it this time Summer Flare? Did you light mr Potato Patch’s suit on fire again?”

Summer Flare? Was this… was he talking to Mom?!

Through the lattice that separated the halves of the booth, I could make out the rest of the cream-colored unicorn and her fiery mane. I could feel something coming, like a minecart about to run me over. Just the glimpse of a smirk and she went right in “Oh forgive me Father for I hath sinned dearly~” Leaning back, hoof to her head, she was going full Shakespony. “I hath borrowed the spray paint supply again and forgot to return the empty cans~” she giggled.

Dad sighed and held his snoot muttering “Goddesses give me strength…AND?”

Dropping the old-timey voice she continued. “Aaaand I may have spraypainted girly flowers all over the inside of the little foals room, and sports stuff inside the little mares room on B1~” she sounded so proud of herself.

I/Dad somehow felt…relieved. “Oh good, you’re going pretty light this week. Making some actual progress this time or-”

“ Aaaaaand I drew a giant dick on the overmare’s door.”

Dad groaned, his face sinking into his hooves. “There it is…”

“I dub it, ‘sit, AND Spiiiin!” she arced her forehooves in the air and conjured forth a glitter effect. “Watcha think? Quite the political statement right?”

Dad just sank in his seat. “I see we're back on the rampant vandalism and theft phase again. Are you even trying?”

“Not really~” She sighed gleefuly. “I mainly just wanted an excuse to herass a grumpy old buck again.”

“I’m not old…”

“So you are grumpy!” she leaned in pressing her face against the lattice.

Dad leaned back. “No! I’m not grumpy either.”

“Perturbed? Upset? Begrundled?...degrundled?” She kept naming off every synonym for grumpy and beyond.

“Half of those aren't even words!” He burst, hooves shaking in frustration. Like I wanted to punch through the lattice and strangle her just a little. She did this just to annoy him.

“Knew you were grumpy~” She shifted back to calm and whimsical in an instant. “And you know what I have to say to that?”

“What?” he dreaded.

“Pie.” she smirked… menacingly, earning a very confused slow blink from Dad. “I maaay have acquired enough meal tickets that I stopped to think: who's the grumpiest, oldest, and loneliest stallion I know who's constantly begrumped about…well, Everything?”

He squinted.

“That's right! Old buck Barkley! Buuut I didn’t wanna walk that far so I decided to harass grumpy old you instead.”

“Im not old! I’m only 45!” and his joints only popped a little louder than they did a decade ago!

“Uh-huh.” she just kept leering through the lattice with that overly playful smirk. She enjoyed this, no she loved harassing him like this. “Sounds young enough for a hot fresh pie to me.”

“You’re just trying to piss off Blueburst again aren't you?” he facehooved.

“Whaaaat? Me? nooo!!“ she glanced around the box. “I just uhh… umm… okay yes! But you also looked like you needed pie! It’s not my fault she said my third grade gingerbread house was bad! She's just getting what’s coming to her.” Mom shrugged like 10+ years of plotting petty vengeance was nothing.

Twas now that I sat here in my dad’s body wondering how exactly she ended up being my mom. She's a drama queen, exaggerates, draws all over stuff, could explode any moment, and has plotted decades-long petty vengeance against Blueburst over a comment she made to a third grader! She’s probably crazy!

“Didn’t we already talk about petty vengeance and how it gets you nowhere but a security cell?”

She took it like an invitation to pour on the Shakespony again. “Woe unto me mine dear father! I simply cannot help myself. For I gasp, gasp I say! At the idea that I shouldn't make the overmare feel even a little as utterly heart-wrenchingly broken inside as I once was? She disgraced my gingerbread house with her foul words!” One hoof on her chest, the other outstretched holding up a random apple she found in the name of Shakesponian acting. She even fell onto her hind knees and pressed up against the separating wall giving him the big wobbly eyes. “Helpeth meee~” she squeaked as the cherry atop her little performance.

“No…” He’d grown used to her shenanigans. “Forgive and forget remember? Garden of memories?”

She squinted through the lattice, “Yeah yeah, Garden of Memories and hate gourds or whatever..” She stood back up and just glared back at him. “Does your mopey ass want a free pie or not?” Oh no! The ultimatum!

This must have been the first time Dad caved to her demands because one deep breath later. “Fine fine, just stop swearing in my chapel!”

She kicked open the confessional door with a smile knocking it off a hinge. “It's a date then! Hot and sticky and full of my pie.” she giggled evily before Dad watched her moonwalk out of the chapel with a string of profanities, solely because he told her not to….damn. “Ass, fuck, tits, bitch, damn, meecrob, bastard-” and so on until she was gone.

Dad slumped in his chair with a groan and several pops in his back. “What did I get myself into?”

The memory wobbled and waved before reforming to the Stable’s cafe, looking the same as it ever was but with the few younger than I remember faces. Like over in the line was Tulip’s dad, Potato Patch! And by the desserts, Miss Appleboom was being all young and hot and getting hit on by a pair of stallions that kinda looked like Bronze. Woow…this was weird! And sitting across from me…I mean Dad…was Mom.

“Told you I had pie~” and they did! A steaming apple pie sat between them with many a pony looking at the rare pastry wonder and passing envy.

“That you did… and it smells like uhh..”

“Like sex given pastry form?” she suggested with he usual smirk.

Unlike my mom, Dad broke into a little coughing fit. “What? No!” Flustered dad was flustered. Even if deep down he knew… she was right.

“Good, 'cause that would be weird.” She hummed taking a bite. “I did basically tell them to fuck it with a cinnamon stick though. If you were wondering why it didn’t smell like what we're both totally not thinking about right now.” She said between bites and making air quotes with magically summoned cartoon gloves.

“You just want to torment me in public don’t you?” he asked unamused but he couldn't stop looking at that devious smile and bouts of prop-comedy she kept summoning to accent her speech.

“Please Thumpy, don't make me lie~ sinning is bad right?” she teased poking her tongue out a little before her muzzle was stuffed with another hunk of pie.

Dad had just gotten comfortable enough to take his own bite of the pie and by the goddesses these memory orb things are amazing! I can feel hot apple melting in my mouth and going straight to mah brain! It tastes like it smells! Ish-ho-guud!

Aaaaaaand that's when a wild Blueburst appeared! Dun dun da da dun! Even 20+ years younger she could still emanate that powerful old mare presence. “Thumper… Summer Flare..” she glared down at Mom.

“Yah?” Mom responded looking up with a mouth full of pie.

“This is the third time this month you've drawn a phallus on the door to my office. Do you even grasp the concept of what vandalism means?”

“Blueburst Im surprised!” Mom feigned a gasp and her glove hands reappeared to hold her cheeks in shock. “I didn't think you even knew what a dick looked like! You’re just so grouchy all the time I figured..ya know.”

Dad was busy feeling like he’d been caught walking out of the speakeasy in the mines when he noticed residents starting to snicker. He slowly reached his fork forward to get another bite of pie whilst trying not to draw attention. Like me!

“I should have you arrested!”

“Yeah, but you can't prove shit can you blueby?” Mom retorted taking another piece of pie, and slowly eating.

The tension in the air was tight enough Mom’s cartoon hands cut a doughnut out of it and started adding illusionary jelly in the background.

What started as a growl geared towards Mom quickly turned towards Dad with pie in his mouth. “Why are you with this… this miscreant Thumper? You can't possibly think you can save this bad apple can you?”

“Uhhh….” he uhhed as a clump of pie fell off the fork. Everypony’s eyes were on him, something that made me want to scream and implode at the same time, but Dad did this for a living. He cleared his throat. “Anypony can be saved. In fact, we just came from the confessions and…” he glanced back to Mom then back to the overmare. “I’d like to think she's making great progress. It was probably some kids who drew on your door and knew you'd blame Summer Flare, Like always.” He put some emphasis on that last bit earning some giddy “Ooooohhhhh”’s from various cafe goers.

Blueburst recoiled a bit and her muzzle went a bit darker. “Why.. I’d never! I don’t accuse her all the time! She breaks countless rules whether I’m there or not.”

“But you know what isn’t against the rules overmare?” they both looked back to Mom just in time to see her hoof scoop the pie tin and slam the half-eaten pastry into the Overmare’s face maing a historic splatter heard around the stable.

“Good goddesses she just pied Blueburst!” Both a young Appleboom and I cried while everypony else gasped.

The stable froze as the pie tin slowly slid down a motionless Blueburst’s face. Dad couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it, until Mom made us believe it. “Scatter!!”

To the 4 winds of the AC system everpony from miners to security ran away while a giggling Summer Flare fled with her tail hooked around my/Dad’s neck.

Poor Dad was speechless but thankfully Mom was there to pull all his attention with her giggling and silky warm tail… it felt like I was getting pulled along by PJ….so soft...mm. Cinnamon~

In my lul of focus, the memories wobbled into a montage of Mom and Dad hanging out around the stable. Frequently at the same table in the cafe, getting harassed in the confessional, and eventually getting him involved in her shenanigans. Pies were thrown, buckets put above doors, spray paint ‘borrowed’, and a certain unicorn given hiding spots in the chapel. Were these dates? It was hard to tell where this mess evolved into dates, but my best guess was when he started visiting her in security jail and smuggling her in pie, or when they started going to the speakeasy together. Many guards were threatened, appleshine was had, and the pie tasted sweeter with every visit. There was just this feeling, this warm feeling inside the thundering heart buried in his chest. It made me want to sing. But more often than not..he was laughing.

The montage marched on into a blur of them doing everything together no matter how others looked at them, until eventually the greatest nightmare a child could have come into clarity.

Mom’s tail was around Dad’s neck and she was pulling him along the same way PJ had done to me. “Cmooon it’ll be fuuun~” she smiled back, it was the same as before yet somehow it felt so different. Inviting, warm, like basking in the light of a hundred candles. His altar. His princess. His goddess.

That massive heart racing in his earth stallion chest, he felt hot, as much as he wanted to fight against something as weak as tail floof he couldn't. “And I’m telling you this is a bad idea.. You know I love you but I’m… old. Old enough to be your dad.” he winced.

“So?” she chirped with ever-present confidence in her actions. “Far as I can tell I bagged me the rarest of all bucks. An unclaimed silver stallion~ though I guess in this case you’re more of a vinyl black. Aren’t you choir boy?” she giggled giving him a playful tug.

The big heart skipped “Who told you about that?” he asked as the memory bled in with echoes of a small black colt singing in the chapel choir or hyperventilating into a bag.

“Ohh just a friend.” She smiled. “She gave me a ton of great advice every time I go to the speakeasy, which is why I’m so confident I’m finally gonna break down those big walls… or was it balls?” she smirked, hitting my dad up with bedroom eyes.

‘Nooooooope! Nononononononooo!! Let me out! Let me out this instant! I will bucking kill somepony if this is your sick and twisted idea of a prank Dad! I know you said you had years of parental scaring to catch up on but I didn’t think you'd do me dirty like this! Where’s the escape button?! AHHH!!!!’ I flailed against the void, but my senses were still trapped in my father’s body.

“Last time you said you listened to this friend, you replaced the cushions in the cafe chairs with wonder-glue balloons.”

“Don’t forget replacing Blueburst’s shampoo with the last of the red spray paint.” she was so proud of herself and eagerly pulled Dad into a somewhat familiar room. Her room, cluttered wall to wall with old novelty gags, stencils, and half-finished construction paper sculptures.

“What else did this terrible influence tell you?” he felt like he might know them, it was dreadful.

“Let's see…” she tapped a hoof to her chin before shoving Dad further into the room. “She gave me a checklist you see.” she leaned in booping her snoot up to his and locking her burning amber eyes with his. “I might be adlibing a bit here but… ‘Thumpy might be this massive stallion with a penchant for hiding and manipulating, but he's really just a big-” she pulled back to boop his snoot with a hoof. “soft-” boop “silly-” boop “willy-” boop “fuckable-” boop “house of cards-” another boop that stayed. “That will collapse into your whittle hooves as soon as you surprise him.”

Thanks Dad, thanks for sharing your heart attack with me. How does your chest not explode? How could you share this with your daughter of all mares!? ...wait…who do I know who talks like that?...

“I see my dating advice finally did the trick, huh?” echoed in the back of my mind with a pair of wiggly pink eyebrows. Mother-Bucking Pinkie-Pie!

“I’m not that easy to fluster you know.” he squinted back. “I have to stand before ponies and guide their souls every day.”

Mom only smirked bigger. “She said you'd say something like that. So she said I should play you at your own game. Hit you with something about the gay panic my dad’s flank gave you as a colt?”

Heart attack!! AHHH Stop trying to kill me before I’m born Mom!

Dad seized and stepped back which only made Mom grin and step forward. “I-I uhh… have no idea what you mean. I’ve never uhh.. Who have you been talking to?” He knew, but he refused to let on he knew.

“You’ve met her a few times, and we both agree, red is a really cute color on you.” she teased and kept advancing. “Next step, Once he’s on the back pedal he becomes as easy to push around as my hubbie wubbie’s rubber chicken collection.” she put a hoof to my/dad’s massive chest and gave the lightest of pushes. My massive black stallion of a dad stumbled backward until his rear hit the floor, leaving him sitting as tall as mom was standing. “Step 3… You think my ass look’s like my dad’s~”

She's going to kill me! I mean him! I mean me! She's going to be the reason I’m genetically predisposed to heart problems somehow! I just know it!

Dad was speechless at this point, she was laying out the deepest details about him like she had an insider spy into his mind. It was unfair! It was uncalled for! This situation needed a referee!

“And I’m pretty sure she told you…” She leaned in snoot to snoot again and let slip words that were honey to Dad's ears and razor blades to mine. “That I’m a sucker for big stallions.” She went in for the kiss and-

Much to my vein kicking and flailing against the confines of Dad’s body this memory wobbled away too and cut to Dad pacing a hallway. I was worried, and tired, like I hadn’t been sleeping. I’d been spared… Thank the goddesses I'd been spared the age-old tragedy of walking in on one’s parents in HD!

It was the stable clinic, the door sliding open to reveal the Stable doctor, Dr, Stims. The cyan uni-stallion had been destined for the job ever since a healing potion appeared on his flank… even if he came off as cripplingly incompetent. “Oh, you’re still here. Thought you woulda’ gone to get a sandwich or something man.”

“Of course I’m still here! How is she? How are they?!” Ohhh yeah, Dad was stressed, grabbing the chilled-out doctor by the collar of his stable-tec lab coat.

“Were fine Thumpy..” Mom said weakly as Dad’s eyes turned to see her laid up in the back of the clinic holding a bundle with a tuft of dull fire poking out the top. “Please don't strangle the doctor yet.” She looked every definition of spent.

Stims stepped aside letting Dad pass. “Yeah everything’s fine man. Chill…” he commented smoothing his labcoat back out.

Chill he was not.. In fact it was more a flood of emotions and feelings all swirling together as went to Mom’s bedside. Speechless but full of praise, stunned yet excited, and tears yet relief. Lo and behold in my Mother’s arms was a small grey unicorn with a tuft of various oranges for a mane. His throat fought him every step of the way to get the words out he was so choked up. “You did great sweetie.”

“I know I did.” She smiled. “Bet you can’t guess what side of the coin they landed~ The cafe betting pool is dying to know~” she laughed weakly.

Dad pondered for a moment before looking back at Dr Stims pretending to be going over a clipboard…which he was holding upside down. “Definitely a girl. Stim’s didn’t book it for the cafe the instant she was born.” he smiled looking back and leaning in to inspect the brand-new me up close, peering over the railings of the bed.

“Hey man, I had like 50 meal tickets on her being a colt. I’m broke now.” Dr Stims grumbled in the background tossing the clipboard aside. “But all’s well that ends well really. I got a new patient!” he beamed looking between my less than amused parents before dropping the smile. “Oh cmon! Let a broke guy silver lining.” he hovered the clipboard back over, this time turning it right side up. “Oh yeah! You guys want the good news or the bad news first?”

Dad was back over to the doctor in a blink making the stallion shrink back. “What bad news? Goddesses help me if you messed my daughter up somehow there will be a mineshaft with your name on it.”

‘Chill man chill!” Dr Stims shrank even further until his rear backed into the wall. “Aint nothing that harsh man, be cool. She just needs glasses dude.” his mint-colored magic turned the clipboard around to show a diagram of a tiny pony skull. “The nugget’s perfectly fine, she's just short-sighted as fuck man.” Stims hid behind the clipboard cause even if Dad was old he’s still huger than most.

“Please tell me you didn't-”

“No Thumpy.” Mom sighed. “Dr Stims didn’t mess anything up. It’s genetic.”

“Oh…” thank the goddesses I didn’t have the blame the chill doctor who still gave adults candy. Curse you genes!

“What did you think I did to ‘er man? Give her a lil squeeze on the way out? Do I look like the kind of dude who plays with lil tot’s head like silly putty?” now Stims looked insulted, as insulted as such a chill guy can be. “Dick…” he squinted.

“You know he didn’t mean anything by it Stims, he’s just being a dad. I’m sure any moment the dad jokes will come pouring out.” Mom rolled her eyes smiling weakly.

“Better pick a name before that starts happening otherwise I can and will tranq your man, brah.” he threatened hovering over a syringe and squinting harder. “Studies show bad puns shave years off your life!”

“I’m not THAT old,” Dad grumbled. “And my jokes are still rock solid. Did you think I was going to take my new parental status for granite?” he let the timing sink in. “Eh? Pretty good right?”

There was a long pause where Mom and Dr Stims just stared at him before going limp with a unanimous groan. “It's too late!” Mom cried dying inside alongside Stim’s and me.

Dad shrugged. “So I was thinking ‘Celesine’ or ‘Divine Smite’ or…” he rubbed his chin.

“Hold up.” Mom interjected. “It’s a girl so we're using my list.”

“I could have been named Divine SMITE?!” My career as a paladin! Ruined from birth!

“‘Grey… eminence?...’” Dad got out one last suggestion before relenting. “I know we agreed, but some of the names on your list were…”

“Awesome.” Mom nodded before she looked down to me. “Options…options.”

“Well if you cats wanna keep it old school, she is kind of a 50/50 of each of you. She may have pushed my hybrid vigor theory down a mineshaft, (HEY!) but the lil’ bean is half black and half cream so.. Grey something?”

Mom pondered inspecting my tiny sleeping form. “Hmm.. aha!~ We’ll call her Sketchy.” she smiled adjusting my tiny mane with a gentle hoof.

There was a moment of silence from Dad. “…you want our daughter to be a chem dealer?”

I KNEW IT!

“What? Nooo! Sketchy as in sketching. Like with charcoal on paper and stuff. Ya know, 'cause she's grey.” she stated holding me aloft in her hooves.

Tiny me let out a small burp of approval before slipping back to sleep.

“See? She likes it.” Mom nodded assuredly.

“How many times do I have to tell ponies that the ‘named occupation’ theory is a myth man?” Dr Stims lamented. “There’s like, no scientific correlation between names and their special talent. Like naming your foal ‘Pickle jar’ doesn't guarantee her talent is going to be pickles, she’s just as likely to get a talent making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” he slumped. “I miss peanut butter man…”

“All the more reason the name her Sketchy then, if there’s clearly no risk like the doctor says~” She blew a razzberry at Dad. “Pfft~”

“Fine, you win.” Dad smiled slowly reaching one of his massive hooves out to give my wee baby snoot a little boop. “Sketchy it is, our Sketchy.” before nuzzling into the warmth of Mom’s neck.

I'd ‘dawww’ if I could, but I was still trapped in the void of the memory orb. Scenery wobbled in and out, this time to reveal right as the door to Mom’s old room opened. The tiny living/bedroom was an absolute mess and the kitchen didn't fare much better. All of Mom's stuff had been piled up in a corner while baby supplies and stable handy-downs were scattered around the room.

“Summer Flare?... sweetie?” He asked quickly scanning the room to find his beloved face down and sprawled on the couch like a broken ragdoll. At the center of the room was possibly the happiest filly I’d ever seen, Me! All small, giggling, and babbling in my high chair with an opened taco can smearing an ungodly amount of taco goo all over myself. What this did to my development as a foal I'll never know, but baby me was more than happy to shove globs in her mouth with one hoof, and smear taco all over herself with the other.

“Glabbugoo…babu gobbbuu ba!” Baby me giggled so eloquently before giving Dad a tossed glob of taco goodness to duck under.

Dad looked back to see the brown splatter out in the hallway before closing the door. “Daww have you been giving your mother a hard time?” he beamed getting closer.

“Babba gooboo!” I responded with a diplomatic grace that could sway nations to my whims, wiggling my little legs at Dad.

Mom in turn groaned into the couch before raising her ragged self up with a wobbly limbed push-up. “Aint nothin' gonna slow me down, and nopony gonna stop my stride, oh no…got to keep on moving…” she mumbled to herself and groaned electing to roll off the couch a limp mess. “Welcome home… like the new paint?” she joked from the floor.

“Well sure, it's very… mexicolty,” he commented looking around at the food mess I’d decorated the room with. “Any special occasion for the sudden change of decor?” he asked coming over to give the smol me a boop on my sticky snoot. ACK!!

“Oh you know… just an in-the-moment thing.” she feigned levity before getting up onto her hooves, bags under her eyes looking like I did whenever I didn't sleep. “I tried doing the responsible Mom thing by getting her to eat apples, but she tried to swallow it whole.”

Tiny me looked proud of her attempt. Choosing to symbolize it by smearing taco on the tray into highly post-modern shapes.

“Then I tried cutting them into slices… and she started smashing them together trying to fix it.” a few of said apple slices could be seen scattered around the room half-buried in taco goo. “Then I figured they were still too much for her, so I went for the canned apples cause those are soft and squishy after 200 years right? Well, now she can't stop. She won’t eat anything unless it comes from a can, and usually ends up wearing most of it.”

“Where’s all that food even going?” Dad asked watching me hover the taco can closer so I could put it on my head.

“The void I think. She’s turned into such a little glutton once I got her using a milk bottle I considered taking her to Dr Stims to see if she might explode…”

“And you didn’t because..?” Dad raised a brow.

“For every black hole there’s a white hole right?… were almost out of diapers,” she answered, her horn flickering, forming the gloves to start cleaning with a mop.

Dad took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Alright, that's it. My knees may make funny noses but I think I can handle her while you go pass out in the shower for a good… 12 hours. Sound good?”

“Heavenly..” Mom said looking so relieved before she nuzzled up into Dad. “Thanks~” she smiled before disappearing into the bathroom.

Dad looked back at me. “And you are going in the sink, little missy. Can’t have you wearing your body weight in canned taco.”

“Gabbaboo~” I retorted from within the can, giggling as I was picked up and carried over to the sink. “Geeee!!”

Holding me right under one hoof, with every little wiggle holding his doting attention before the memory began to fade again.

A new memory, same door, different story. The room was a lot tidier than last time, except for the little corral somepony, aka Mom, constructed out of smal appliances and trash in the living room. Within the corral, me! Adorable as always in my diaper, but even more so with the construction paper cowpony hat on my head as I rode around on the back of a radroach. The radroach may be bigger than me, but I had the benefit of a suit fabric saddle and a yarn set of reins.

“Ride em Sketchy!” Mom cheered from the side of the ring watching me go at a steady crawl before she froze seeing Dad in the doorway. “Uhh…This isn’t what it looks like?” she smiled sheepishly. What's a sheep again?...

Dad took another deep breath and sighed. “Please tell me you’re not living out some cowpony dream you had as a kid vicariously through our infant daughter…”

“What? Noooo..” she leaned on the edge of the corral. “I’m teaching our daughter to be a badass! See? Look at her go!” she pointed back to me on my epic roach mount. Right before I fell forward on top of said radroach wrapping it in a big hug.

“I see…” he started, but watching me lay there snuggling the massive bug like a stuffed animal got both of my parents to ‘daww’.

“We're so putting this on a memory orb later,” Mom commented using her conjured hands to put me back upright on the roach, only for me to fall back forward and resume hugging it.

“Definitely.” Dad agreed, “I think I still have a blank one in a drawer somewhere. Want me to put the canned taco incident on it too?”

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.” Mom giggled oblivious to how the radroach was starting to crawl up the wall towards a vent… taking me with it.

‘Wild Wasteland!’

I heard a whisper, a faint chittering that molded into words in the back of my mind. “Come yee anointed one, bather of the sacred poison. Thine high priests have foretold the time of coronation draws near. We must go to thine most holy of appointments, oh Great Provider.”

What the fu-

“Summer… Summer! Grab her!” Dad pointed in a panic where the roach was slowly escaping with me before it all faded away.

So that’s what this orb was, Mom and Dad's compilation of all their best moments with each other, me included. They knew that most ponies in the stable just took baby pictures right? I’d only ever read about memory orbs in class, What kind of parents would blow a priceless artifact on something that could have been done with a camera?....oh right, mine.

Flipping the page on this totally not a baby-picture album came a new memory of Mom's room. This time Dad walked in on Mom and I sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by art supplies. Construction paper, pens, brushes, rusty spray cans, and Lots of glue…which Mom and I were both eating.

We both froze looking up at Dad, but I was the first to resume suckling on my paste-covered hoof. Mom on the other hoof opened with a “Uhhhh….”

Dad facehooved. “Are you kidding me? Eating glue? Aren't you supposed to stop her from doing that?!”

“I uhh…” She quickly pointed her own glue-covered hoof at me. “It was her idea!”

Wee babu me looked between Mom, the pointing hoof, and then her own…before looking at Dad and pointing my pasty hoof back at Mom.

Mom gasped “You traitor!”

“Eating glue?!” Dad repeated louder.

“Cmon! She was eating it first, and I was gonna stop her, but… I wanted to know what it tasted like.” Mom whined. “They always tell you not to eat paste in school but they never tell you why! It's edible, and yet we always tell our kids not to eat it without knowing why. Nopony’s ever died from it, yet every generation has foals that eat glue! It can’t be that bad.”

I resumed sucking on my glue-covered hoof while Dad sighed in defeat. “Goddesses help me, Dont turn my daughter into a glue eater!”

Lo and behold, I successfully managed to not to develop a crippling glue-eating addiction… but for the love of the goddesses, not a single pony on Equis will ever learn I ever did this. As if to spite me the remainder of the orb’s memories formed an amalgamation of baby me putting random things in my mouth. Blocks, pens, my too-big glasses, toys, whole apples, blankets, and my hooves just to name a few. Usually with a 50/50 chance of either parent trying to pry the object out of my mouth. I was a tenacious and cute lil bastard~...bast-ee? Bastina?... What's the mare equivalent of bastard? Do mare bastards exist? I mean Tecnhically- Oh hey, a new memory!

Dad was in the chapel's backroom looking down at a table. Before him was the morb, a strange-looking helmet, several tattered books, and a doodle of a unicorn applying an orb to her horn. “Okay if I’ve used this correctly… I’ve officially caught up on all the parental scarring I promised.”

‘I knew that’s what this was! Damn you Daaaaa-’

“And before you say it…or think it..or however this thing works. I’m technically in the chapel right now so no swearing.”

‘Bu…what… that's not fair!’

“Life’s not fair, now It took a while, and it’s technically incomplete… But I don’t know what's going to happen out there. So I pulled out the old memory orb and asked PJ to plant it on you.” His heart was still massive, and it ached, and I could feel his worry. “It was rather impressive how fast she picked up the ‘Muffin Shuffle’ maneuver when I asked her to do this. Hopefully, you look under the MISC tab before you get back… or anything happens. And please don’t try to use the orb anywhere dangerous. Then again you’re already in the orb at this point. Hmm…” he reached for a faded black book, the long worn cover reading ‘Ministry of Morale: Field Manual.’ AKA Dad’s big book of social manipulation. There was even a picture of Saint Pinkie clad head to hoof in candy-pink fabric tippy-hooving on her hind legs. She looked like one of those mares in Button Mash’s Neighpon anime posters. He skimmed the ancient text’s memory orb section. “Is there a ‘safe’ mode on this thing?...”

I wanted to tell him I was fine, that I found the orb, that I made friends..or at least found ponies who tolerated me. I’d tell him everything, about the Stone brothers, the Fog-Bank ghoul, the ants, and.. maybe even the raider blockade. He’d understand it was self-defense, right? Borrowing the nearest pair of bullet hoses and mowing down a dozen ponies cause they harassed Moonstone. It’s…fair…I think… the Goddesses would understand! I’d show him despite everything I was okay. But I couldn’t, I was locked in here, just a ghost along for the ride.

Dad sighed “Who designs a memory capture device without an emergency escape feature?” He closed the book, looking between it and the helmet. “I’m sure our ancestors knew what they were doing. Probably only intended for these things to hold individual little memories, and yet in true 83 fashion I’ve used the entire thing.” He looked at the orb, pondered the orb, rolled it around with his hoof. “Oh the places you will go, the wonders you’ll find, the horrors you’ll conquer in the name of the goddesses. I love you sweetie.” he bit his lip for a moment, shuddering before taking a steeling breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to put ‘this’ memory on the orb too before my clandestine meeting with your little mare friend.” He gulped, almost ready to face the music when he began chuckling pushing the fear down. “Heh… She put all her meal tickets on you coming back alive you know?”

With that the memories winked out and all sensations of Dad were rent from my body, Foreign senses sucked back into the glassy purple void of the orb leaving behind only the ghost… me… and another. An ethereal green radroach like a beacon in the darkness. “Awaken provider~ Thou art needed”

Brad?!

In a blink I flashed back to reality gasping and shooting up on the bed. “Holy sweet fuck I’m alive!”

“Oh hey, your finally awake.” Moonstone’s voice suddenly came from behind me.

“AHHHH!!” I screamed in a very calm and mature fashion, anyone who says I screamed like a filly is a dirty liar! And any suggestion I also flailed around and faceplanted off the bed and into the floor is a Damned dirty liar!

Anyways, I got up from the floor I totally didn’t faceplant on and adjusted my glasses. “You saw nothing..” squinting at him as the nothing he saw made my muzzle quite warm… There’s no evidence!

“If it makes you feel better about getting jumpscared like a filly and falling off the bed, sure~.” Moonstone comforted me with the warmth of my dignity going up in flames. “I know coming out of a memory orb can be a bit disorienting, but I need you to pull yourself together cause I need your help.”

Seems memory orb time counted almost as sleep, So I gave him the uneven blink of a mare who’s gotten 1 whole hour of sleep under her belt. “With what?”

“I can’t find Lucy.”

–Skill Book Acquired!--

You technically glimpsed, read, or touched a skillbook. Even if by proxy it still counts!!

+1 to stealth.