FOE: Lunar Archives.
Chapter 16: Superstitious.
By: Lakeel

I’d like to think it was a perfectly normal way to react. Somepony walks in on you in the shower? You scream. Somepony jumps around a corner to startle you? You scream. A Zony you thought was dead suddenly appears behind you? You scream louder and throw a mutant frog/duck thing at his face!

The fuzzy little amphibian slid down the face of The ghost of Mokos Past, before peeling off and flopping into the mud. He looked down at it, watched it hop and swim its way back to me, and crawl up on my head. “Did you just throw a fuck at me?...”

“I uhh…” This had gone from terrifying to awkward and terrifying. How was he here? AGAIN!? “If I say yes are you gonna keep haunting me?”

“Huh…” he seemed mentally lost and tapped his chin thinking before perking back up. “Well, it appears you’ve fucked me. It’s usually the other way around, weird right?” he looked up and down the bank with a disturbingly snowballing enthusiasm I normally wouldn't attribute to a dead guy.

“That didn’t answer my question…” I pointed out raising a hoof from the water, a few fucks clinging to it.

Quibbit~

“Oh, you guys can see him too?” I asked looking at all my little discoveries. “So he is real.” I squinted.

Moko meanwhile was busy picking up one of the little guys. “Yooo! I remember these things from when I was like a kid babe. They were so much fun for seeing rainbows ‘n shit.” astonishingly he gave the fuzzy yellow fucker a lick and smacked his lips. “Yeah, nothin’. Sucks I built up a tolerance to the little guys.”

“How are you alive- These things can get you HIGH?!” I exclaimed covered in said little guys! I stood up in the middle of the stream and a dozen of them were casually lying on my back paddling at the air.

Quibbit~

“Ohhh man, you never tried one of these before doll? They’re awesome, last time I had one of these was uhh…” he seemed a little lost again, blinking as he looked down at the hybrid in his hoof. He had a long pause before quickly tossing it aside. “So what you been up to since the hotel babe?”

“Oh, you know…” I looked around my very wet surroundings. “Floatin’ around. How bout you? How ya been since the whole… getting stabbed by all the hookers thing?...and shot?” I smiled sheepishly hoping he wasn't too mad about me blowing his head off.

He blinked briefly looking over his personage. “Oh yeah, things did get a little stabby there for a minute, didn’t they? Ehh it’s whatever, been stabbed before.” he shrugged as if getting murdered were nothing. “Some mares get waaay too into knife play am I right?” he chuckled seeming to get lost in a daydream too fast, staring blankly ahead with a light smile. “Yeah… fun times.”

“Uhhhh… Are you feeling okay?” I asked with a little head tilt, his ability to focus seemed completely shot.

“Well I am feeling kinda meh, but that's probably cause I’m sobering up. Last night’s bender got cut short by the whole hotel burning down thing. Which sucks cause that was like, the only place in town to get pink champagne other than those tight ass Aristocrat.” he groaned far more concerned with the loss of fancy alcohol than the hotel burning down. “I mean the stuff is too weak for my taste, But man will a mare spread her legs when you pull out that fancy shit.” He nodded.

“Yeah, mares sure do love uhh... That fancy shit.” I have never been in a more awkward and confusing situation than the one I am in right now. Nopony would believe me if I told them I was in the middle of a bath when a zony who's been killed twice already appeared for a bout of casual conversation.

“Dad usually asks me to bring him back a bottle or three, I don't think the old man can taste the shit but- Oooohhhh riiiight. I gotta tell Dad the hotel burned down.” he groaned plopping down right on the streambank. “He’s gonna get all pissed he can’t buy pegas anymore! And he’s gonna say I’m the one who fucked it up! This suuuuucks!!!” He groaned louder tilting his head to the heavens.

“Well, you didn’t start the fire so…” I scratched the back of my wet mane, sending a few fucks hopping into the water. “It’s not your fault? I guess..”

His eyes looked back down at me while his head stayed up. “Wait… say that again?”

“It wasn’t your fault?” I repeated gently peeling the flock of fucks off of me, tossing them back in the water.

“Fuck yeah!!” he cheered.

Quibbit~

“It wasn’t my fault! Dad can’t say I bucked up everything again. I mean… I did, but that was only like a dozen mares while I was there. But not the colossal fuck up he expects!”

I nodded along. “That sounds great, wish you luck with that, I’m sure he won't mind a ghost-”

“Hey, you wanna do a guy a solid babe?” He beamed pointing down at me. “Tell my dad everything wasn't my fault, and I’ll take you to the best club in town.”

“I uhh…” I blinked trying to process the request as I stepped out of the stream. “I’m kinda busy here, we just got back and-”

“Oh don't worry about that babe, It’ll only take a minute or sixty or… err…” He paused, scratching his head before falling to the ground and groveling at my hooves “It’ll be fuuuun~ cmon! cmon! Cmoooon! Bail me oooouuuttt! Dad's gonna kill meeeee!”

This was not something I was used to, nopony begged me for things! They begrudgingly ask me to do things when they have nopony else to ask! But I have a willpower of hardened steel and won’t- “Okay!! I’ll help!” Damn you good Karmaaaa!!!

He sprung back up in an instant. “Perfect! Dad loves a mare that gets shit done. Might even give you a role in one of his movies.” He was already making his way back up towards the neighborhood. “C'mon, you’re gonna love the House-of-Chrysalys. It’ll blow your mind~ booze, broads, chems, all on my dime obviously~” he gave me a wink.

“You mean your dad's dime right?” I squinted a bit.

“Well err.. Me and Dad’s finances are rather mixed so, his caps, my caps, does it really make a difference?” He gave me the confident smile of a stallion who always got his way.

Sweet Celestia who art in heaven, Moonstone was right… The prince is a spoiled Daddy’s boy! He’s not paying for any of the shit he’s offering!

I trudged out of the water looking like a drenched Q-tip and shook myself off. I saw what he was doing. He was bombarding me with information, suave, and mood swings so that I'd be too distracted to think about his requests. The club wasn’t a grand reward, it was a shiny carrot luring me into talking to his dad for him. He just wanted to use me! And the worst part about it was I couldn't tell if Moko was even aware he was doing it. “Moko.” I squinted uphill at him.

“Yeah babe?” he stopped, looking back.

“How are you alive?” I squinted harder.

“I ask myself that question all the time to be honest, When you party as hard as I do you-”

“No..” I interjected. “How, are you, alive!” I enunciated hovering my bags back to me.

“I uhh… I don’t get what you’re poking at. Did I overdose again or something?”

I took a deep breath and sighed, hardball it is then. “I watched you get stabbed.”

“I get stabbed all the time babe, kinda comes with living in Applewood ya’ know?”

“No, I mean I watched you get more holes put in you than cheese by a gaggle of pissed-off hookers.” I clarified, making stabby gestures with my forehoof.

He put a hoof to his chin like he was pondering trying to remember. “Eh… the girls were a little knifey last night true, but no more than what I’m used to.” He shrugged. “Dad always said I was a resilient little bastard.” he nodded with a note of pride in his voice. “Aint nothin gonna keep me down, Aint nothin gonna stop my stride, oh no, Moko keeps on mooovin~” he slipped into a sing-songy voice and started trotting in place to the tune. “What were we talking about? Ohhh you look angry, hey we should go to this club I know later, you’ll love it!”

Ya know… maybe blowing a ghost's brains out has long-lasting consequences not even I can comprehend. I’m not an ectoplasmic brain surgeon now am I? “Uhh… sure Moko, lemme just tell my ffff-friends we’re heading out and then we can go. Cool? Cool.” I nodded not giving him time to answer as I ran right on past him back to the neighborhood. How the hell am I going to explain this to everypony else? How was I going to explain Moko was back a second time?!

I screeched to a halt once I reached the cul-de-sac, now filled with pegas. Every one of them was either sitting or rolling around on the ground lost in bliss, nomming down on… sandwiches? Muzzles smeared with jelly, eating the PB&Js like they were better than sex. Forget Moko! Who was going to explain this to me?!

Over in front of Button’s house were the only ponies not currently lost in the ecstasy of basic lunchtime food. Cream-Heart was back and had set up a little table on her front lawn to make the sandwiches. Dusty jars and ever-bread bags littered the table, while Button-Mash dashed about swapping empty jars for full ones. Lucy and Moonstone sat next to the table enjoying their own sandwiches and watching the scene before them.

Inhale! “Heeeey guys, you’re never gonna guess who I ran into!” I stressed the words, but still smiled as I jazz-hooved towards Moko joining the pega sandwich line.

“It's me!” Moko waved from the line before it was his turn and finally saw Cream-Heart. “Why hello mama-cita~ Beautiful AND can cook? Where’s the hunky slab of stallion that should be next to a quality mare like you?~” holy horseapples I look away for two seconds and he’s hitting on Button’s mom. Don't imagine ghoul sex! Don't Imagine ghoul sex! Don't- AGGHH!! My mind’s eye! It bleeds!!!

Lucy and Moonstone froze with maws full of sammich and stared at Moko about as bug-eyed as the dead buck deserved!

Buttons, standing next to his mom, was looking very non-plussed at Moko. “That’s my mom dude…”

Cream-heard gave an amused giggle and slid Moko a sammich. “Glad to know I still got it goin’ on. Really, but~” She leaned in with a gentle smirk “I’m married.” and pushed Moko back with a hoof. “And that’s a minefield you don't wanna step in, little boy~” She said it so smugly too… or was that confidence? How do I identify these subtle undertones?!

Moko paused like it was the first time somepony told him he wasn’t enough, and he found it- “I don’t know the last time anypony told you this ma’am but, damn your hot. I had to try- Ohh a sandwich!” he swerved quickly grabbing said sand-of-the-witch and went to join the blissed out pegas.

Button’s eye twitched with the tungsten-melting hatred of a thousand jealousies. His mom giggled while he looked like he was about to burst into flame. Buttons quickly looked back at me. “Can I shoot him?!” he called over to me, pointing his ghouly hoof at the Zony enjoying lunch.

“Already tried that, doesn’t work!” I called back.

Buttons quickly looked over the table. “What about a butter knife? Can I stab him with that?”

“Tried that too! Didn’t work either!” I replied again plopping myself down next to the buggle-eyed Lucy and Moonstone. “Yep, that just happened, Moko is alive again, aaaand I see you talked Button’s mom into letting the pegas move in?”

Those bugged eyes slowly turned to face me before Lucy finally swallowed. “Mmm, yes, quite. She was rather-” Lucy wince holding her side with a wing. “Onboard with the idea of helping refugees. Lots of empty houses she’s kept maintained, perfect fit really.”

“And the pegas? Last I checked they were still iffy about ghouls..”

“Oh that silly nonsense is rain under the clouds now.” she nodded picking up her sandwich again with the pinion feathers of her free wing. “I dare say ghoul/enclave relations have never been better. All they needed was a little motivation.”

“Motivation?” I questioned, using my magic to take off and wring out my stable suit, gushing stream water onto the pavement.

With a woosh Candy-cloud landed nearby so she could chime in. “An obscene amount of controlled substances level of motivation.” She grumbled and glared adorably with a feint blush and jelly smears around her mouth. “I don’t approve of your methods, but I can’t deny the results.”

“Lucy! Did you drug your entire squad? It was bad enough when it was just me catching stray syringes, but the whole squad?!” that sounded way more accusatory than I intended.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I didn't drug my entire squad.”

“Oh thank the goddesses, you do have restraint-”

“That would be too expensive~ So I went a little lighter and gave them all a little something they’ve craved their whole lives.” she nodded, self-assured in her strategy as per usual.

“And that is?...”

“Food~”

“What?...” I reflexively pulled out my archive and flipped to the pega section as I felt some lore coming on.

“Well more specifically, berries that Mrs, Cream-Heart processed into jelly ages ago. Berries, like all surface food, are heavily controlled substances in the Enclave.”

“Basic produce is illegal? Does a glass of water come with a death sentence too?”

“Don’t be silly, we have tons of water. Berries are just illegal because they’re TOO good.”

“Too good? Wuh..”

“Too good in comparison to standard enclave food that is. Cloud crops aren’t exactly reputed for their taste if you catch my meaning.”

“Tastes like shit!” one pega called from the crowd.

Oh, I get it now, it may not be as ‘clean’ or ‘readily available’ but surface food hit differently than anything I had ever eaten in the stable. The same probably went for the enclave too, stuck up in the sky while Equestria cooked like an apple in the microwave. Tatos were still an affront to the goddesses but they still tasted…Okay, I’d eat them on the regular if I had them but that's not the point! It’s simple, survival food sucks. Except for trail mix… and raisins… and the box of Mac-n-Cheese I found in a mailbox.

“Excuse me!” Moonstone butted in. “Am I seriously going to be the one to ask why there’s a dead guy in the neighborhood?” He added pointing a big forehoof at Moko in the distance eating his sammich.

“Yes, yes you are.” I sighed closing my archive back up.

“How?!”

“I don’t know!!” I yelled back louder before returning back to normal volume. “All I know is I was taking the first bath I’ve had since I was six when all of a sudden he was on the shore!” Now I was pointing at the sammich nibbling zony prince. “He looks brand spanking new, don’t he? I tried asking him, but his memory is as shot as my ass when I first met you.”

“Are you still on that? We apologized repeatedly for perforating your posterior, and yet you still keep bringing it up.”

“Yes, I’m still on that! I will always be on that! If you’d been shot in the ass maybe you’d-” I paused mid pointing an accusatory hoof at Lucy who was barely recovered from being shot last night. Well, this is awkward… “I uhh… okay that was in poor taste.” I sank.

She may be injured, but Lucy was still capable of making a disapproving glare. “Indeed, but I’m well aware you talk faster than you can think, so it's to be expected.”

“Right…” suppress the guilt, suppress the guilt so help me Luna’s fine ass! “Well Moko is alive again, aaaand he wants me to meet his dad.”

Moonstone, intent on stealing my lines, forgot how to breathe. “He what?! Oh buck no! No no no NO! No bucking way, no way in bucking Tartarus to Hell and back.” crossing his forehooves over and over with every ‘no’.

“But…” I meeped.

“You couldn’t pay me, kiss my ass, or give me enough memory foam pillows to deal with the bucking Actors! Much less The Prince or his Daddy! If you think he’s bad I can assure you Dr Zeeb is a whole new kind of evil.”

“Moonstone, I can't believe I’m saying this but chiiiill. If I can handle Moko at his worst then I’m sure I can handle his dad. And that's an obscene amount of confidence coming from me, so much so it kinda scares me. I think I can handle him.”

“Or you’re high.” Moonstone glared almost as badly as Lucy. “Either way It’s not like we can go with Lucy still being injured.”

I hissed. “About that…”

He squinted. “No…”

“C'mon, I can handle it! I literally just realized I’m starting to turn into a psychopathic murder mare just 30 minutes ago and I really REALLY need a change of pace.” was this pleading? Pleading would make me sound super sad and weak. Maybe I- “Plehehehehesse!! I promise to come right back after Im done okaaay? I can’t drag you around as my wasteland chaperone forever! I’ll come right back!!” I begged clinging to Moonstone's forehoof as I flailed on the ground.

Moonstone looked down at me, and around in awkward confusion as I clung to his hoof begging for freedom. “I uhh.. Sketchy, ponies are starting to stare.”

Lucy however rolled her eyes and let out a begrudged huff. “She has a point. A shamelessly delivered point but a point nonetheless. We won't always have you with us, so it's probably best she get some experience being on her own.”

“True,” he begrudgingly agreed “but it’s dangerous.”

“Hardly, this is possibly the safest solo mission she could go on.” with a bit of strain she brought her pip-buck forward. “If the reports were correct the Actors live just beyond the suburbs west of here, where all the pre-war movie studios and elite theaters used to be.”

“This is still the wasteland in case you’ve forgotten. There's a thousand and four things out there that want to eat her.” he countered while I looked back and forth between the two arguing like I was their kid. Lucy was being the classy yet somehow open-minded mom and Moonstone took the role of a stereotypically overprotective dad.

“Not anymore, or at least not for a while anyways.” She turned a knob with her pinion feathers. “The war fields, the fire ants, the lost ghouls, and the ruins we skirted escorting Cream-heart and her son. We’ve cleared everything between us and the Actors. They're our closest neighbors so to speak.”

She had a point, and it made Moonstone grump. “Okay so we have, but new stuff could have shown up in the past two days. Like rad-rats or.. A gator claw! Or the NCR!!”

“Hardly.” she looked up from her pipbuck. “She’ll have the Prince with her, so few locals would dare mess with them.”

“Or everypony will mess with them,” he countered before looking back down to me giving him the biggest most wobbly puppy eyes I could manage. “Herk- Fine! Just come right back as soon as you’re done okay!”

“Yis!” I sprung up pumping a hoof in the air. Having successfully pulled off exactly what Moko did to me 10 minutes ago. Was that hypocrisy?...nah! “I’ll try not to get murdered, raped, or kidnapped while I’m gone! Don’t burn the place down!” I cheered trotting away from a sighing Moonstone sinking down in his hooves.

“We had to let her go eventually~” Lucy giggled before coughing and holding her side. “Ow..”

One last thing, the greatest act of honor I’ll conduct to date… Button-Mash. With a lul in the sandwich making, I followed him inside. “Hey Buttons… I see you got the blood out of the floor. How’d you uhh..” The blood streak was perfectly gone, though it smelled familiarly pungent in here now.

There stood the brown ghoul still in his blue bathrobe looking as nonplussed by my presence as usual. “Vinegar…”

“Vinegar?...”

“White vinegar specifically.”

“ Like the stuff I wash my suit in?”

“Yeah, that white vinegar. We have tons of it in the basement after 200 years on the shelf. How else do you think I got my robe to stop smelling like mildew?” He slouched taking a seat on the stairs seeing he was going to be here a minute.

“Huh…” I’d always washed my clothes in the stuff cause the hydroponics guys knew how to make it. Probably should have realized how good it was at getting out blood given all the nosebleeds I had. “Well, it’s a nice robe..”

“Sketchy…”

“Yeah?..”

“Why in Celestia’s cum stained curtains are you giving me the idle conversation treatment? Can we just skip to the part you’re afraid to say?” his words! They stab me right in the plans!

“I uhh…” I looked down, awkwardly scratching one leg with another before I took a deep breath and steeled myself. “Well first I wanted to… erm..” Work voice work! “Apologize about the whole body.. thing.. and blood.. Thing..” Flawless!

Buttons seemed less than enthused. “Uh-huh, I’m not even gonna ask why that guy’s alive again. But I swear to flying fuck, if he hits on my mom again I’m gonna beat him to death with his own DICK and see if he GETS BACK UP AGAIN!!-” Going from 0 to flying off the handle made me hide behind the couch, but he quickly took his own deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it all out. “Calm… I’m cool… everything’s cool. He’s just some dude… he’s just some dude.” Buttons said to himself like a mantra.

This has to be the worst case of momma’s boy I have ever seen… He was the opposite of Moko! PJ would have a field day with him. “Yeah, he’s leaving so you won’t have to worry about that. Which brings me to the second thing I came here for..” the part almost as hard as apologizing. “Rule 69 subclause ‘M’ of the Bro code requires me to-”

His momentary relaxation vanished and he squinted at me, HARD. “What does a mare like you know about the bro code.”

“I uhh.. umm… “ recall the ancient laws Sketchy, recall the ancient laws of honor and covering for your fellow bro! [INT 10] “Rule 35 of the bro code. Any mare with sufficient knowledge of the bro code and obeys its rulings shall hitherto be referred to as a ‘brah’. She shall be granted all the same honors, rights, and protections this code grants to anypony covered by this code. So help me-”

“-Luna’s fine Ass~” We quoted in unison, but with Buttons more in disbelief.

This was possible the first time I’d seen Buttons astonished. “How.. who…Who told you? Who would break rule one and tell you?”

Finally, I could smile and talk about one of the few positive notes of my life in 83. “That's the fun part, nopony did. Back when I was a filly I found the code written in an air-vent. Some buck etched them into the walls around where he stored his stash~ ‘Thank you last bro of 83’.”

“No way…” He was fascinated, calm, and that’s when I knew, I had him! “200 years and the bro code survived because some dumbass etched it in steel? That literally sounds so metal!” he sat holding his head in disbelief. I’d probably react the same if I found one of my doodles framed in a museum 200 years from now.

“Yes way, I thought it was kinda cool cause he found a way to circumvent the paradoxical bro code recruitment rules.” they were bad… really BAD. “You aren’t allowed to teach the bro code to anypony but a fellow bro, son, or younger sibling of appropriate age? The only exception being outsiders who learn it accidentally. It's a recipe for the code to go extinct!”

“We like to think outsiders who learn the code were fated to join the bro-hood in the first place, rather…”

“-Than admitting your fellow bros fucked up and spilled the beans?”

“Yeah.” he glowered. “Bro-code operational security ran on the honor system.”

“Meaning it was non-existent?” It was my turn to raise a brow! Finally! After 16 chapters!

“Pretty much, so why bring it up now?”

“Ah right, that.” I coughed and straightened myself up ready to fulfill my sacred duties as a ‘brah’. Something which I never thought I’d get to do given my lack of siblings, friends, co-workers, social skills, or…self-esteem…aww, I made myself sad. “Firstly, as per Rule 69 subclause ‘M’ I am required to inform you that…. Your mom knows where your stash is dude.”

“Nuh-uh!” He countered immediately. “Not that I own such things, but even if I did, which I don’t, I would have hidden them perfectly!” His level of protest, denial, and misdirection were all within the acceptable limits of the code. Given the lack of a few keywords like ‘seriously’ and ‘fuck you’ he acknowledges he does in fact ‘have a stash’.

I had to break it to him, and it wrenched my heart to do so! I must be gentle as a butterfly- “Bruh, it's behind your TV, the only place it could be more obvious was if you put it under your bed.”

He froze, sitting there in silence until he said “How do you know this?”

“Because…” I let it out. “Your mom let me stay in your room before we came to get you aaaand I found it.” I glanced around nervously. “Aaaand she left a sticky note on the stash saying she found it.”

He was still for a few moments longer before he began to glare. “You… It was you!” uh oh.. He stepped forth, his hatred flaring back up. “I knew it! I knew you were the thieving marefucker who stole it-”

In an instant, my saddle bag was open and out flew a single neatly folded poster. “Rule 69 Subclause C1!!” I cried hiding behind my hooves and totally not cowering. “The stash of a fallen bro has a grace period of 20 years!”

He quickly snatched the poster from my TK and stepped away unfolding it. “If you bucking damaged her-”

“I thought you'd been dead for over two hundred, so it was fair game.” I clarified peeking from behind my nerd limbs. “After I found you I had a bucking heart attack when I realized you were a subclause ‘E’. ‘If a fallen bro is found to be alive all assets must be returned to him ASAP.’” I explained further.

He looked at the poster, then back at me, then at the poster again, and with a growl he quickly folded it back up. “Fine, Your story checks out and you honored the nightmare damned code. Did you take anything else?”

“Nope!” I answered immediately crossing my hooves. “Not a thing, nothin', nadda! I really wanted to, but I couldn't confirm you were dead so I restrained myself.”

It was a long and tense silence as he looked me up and down with those angry dead eyes. “Good. Wait there,” he ordered sternly before going upstairs. My eyes and ears followed his hoof steps on the floor above me until he came back with a sack. “Here.” reaching into the sack with a hoof and tossed me-

“B-RAD!?” I exclaimed catching the stuffed rad-roach and squeezing him to my chest.

Squeeeeeak~

“You bucking took B-rad!?” I hadn’t had time to notice he went missing since I met Buttons. The past two days had been non-stop violence so the idea of bringing him out never crossed my mind. “How could you take B-rad!?” Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order! I’ll kill a mare!-

Button-Mash rolled his eyes. “Why do ya think? How fast do you think I checked if everything I hold dear was still there? And who do you think I suspected when I found out the last thing I have of MY Sweetie-Belle WAS MISSING?!” he tensed nigh as tightly as I held B-rad.

The gears within my brain turned, ticking away as all the pieces, came together as I looked between him and B-rad. “Okay…I see your point. To which I say, Fair…” I looked back up. “But I reserve the right to be upset about it!”

“Whatever, be upset about it. As far as I’m concerned everything has been set right in the world, even if everypony else I know is dead as shit.” This was something I’d come to realize about ghouls. They cling desperately to who they were before they turned. Be it their profession, keepsakes, or other ponies, it takes an act of the goddesses to make them let go. These things, these anchors, help keep them from going feral.

Button’s slipped into a less foul mood. “But now that that crisis has been resolved.. I’m sorry for yelling.” he apologized with a tone of regret in his voice as he adjusted his robe. “I’ve been told I have ehh.. anger issues, and trust issues.., and concerning levels of apathy by Flutter-butt’s ‘WSD’ therapist assholes.”

“Right…” I looked down at B-Rad again. “You understand that if you take B-Rad again I will rip your legs off one by one like a spider and beat you to death with ‘em right?” I squinty glared squeezing B-Rad tighter. He’s mine!! MINE!!

“I’d expect nothing less~” he nodded and gave a… relieved sigh? “Ohhh fuck me, I feel so much better.” He sat on the stairs like an invisible weight just slipped off his withers, head tilting back to bask in the feeling. “Crisis resolved, mutual death threats exchanged, and a degree of mutual respect established. Yeah, everything’s cool now.”

I blinked in mild confusion yet somehow understood what he meant. Our conflict is… resolved? That fast? No hard feelings attached despite threatening to kill eachother?...HOW?! Where’s the hate, where's the rage and distrust?! “It… it is?”

“Yep~” Wow, He mellowed out fast I somehow didn’t feel upset anymore. The emotions were as fleeting as they were intense. “And now that we’re cool, and I know I’m dealing with a bonified ‘brah’… what did ya think?” He asked changing the topic.

“What did I think about what?”

“Ya know..” he gave a knowing eyebrow wiggle. “Ya looked around my room. Touched all my shit, saw…things. It’s a little violating, but now I’m curious what a mare other than Sweetie-Belle and my mom thinks.”

“Oh…” I froze. How the flying buck a duck am I supposed to answer a question like that!? “Well, I uhh…” I scratched the back of my mane looking around awkwardly as I held onto B-rad. “It was…”

“Yes?~” he twirled a hoof like he was trying to will the words out of me, fishing for my opinions! “Pretty great right? Picked the decor myself.”

“It’s…” curse you unexpected social awkwardness! “Bigger than mine…” Why did I phrase it like that?! Brain you bucking traitor!

“Damn, High compliments coming from a unicorn. Especially given the importance your kind puts on size~” My fragile ego! Nooo!!

“And… the posters are nice, and the figurine, and that was possibly the most comfy bed I’ve ever slept in.”

Buttons nodded along. “Yeah, that’s the 600 thread count Saddle-Arabian cotton kicking your ass. I sleep like a baby. And?”

“And…” I looked around for an escape, feeling the sweat drop of awkwardness running down my temple. “And…” I broke. “Holy Bucking Shit I’ve never felt better about my odds of not dying single cause of you! You, a nerd, were fucking one of the founding three!” I blurted pulling at my mane. “How?! How did you do it? How in Luna’s 1000 years of blue-balled mare fuckery did you bag the saint of good intentions?!” I flailed…elegantly, those who say otherwise are liars!

I got him… I got him right in the earth stallion pride with a combo shot to the memories. “Heh, saint’s a word for her alright. So Yeah.. We’re a thing.” he wiped a hoof on the chest of his bathrobe torn between pride and a tinge of sadness. “You know how kids sometimes hang out so much everypony thinks they’re a couple, and it goes on for so long that they eventually just become one?”

“Yes and no…” I squeaked, I'd only heard about such things, that or I was too distant to understand what I was witnessing when Tulip started getting all bossy around Bronze.

“Well me and Sweetie-Belle were kinda like that. We both lived in this place called Ponyville right? Small town, lots of farms, Ministry mares used to live there, probably never heard of it.” he said even though I’ve totally heard of the holy land, hell I wanted to go there first. “Well, neither of us really knew how this relationship thing worked for years, and it kinda turned into this on-again-off-again thing cause uhh…”

“You’re a total nerd who had no idea how to talk to girls even when she was already with you? Probably looked at her one day and started internally screaming ‘Why is she suddenly so.. breathtaking?” I filled in, mildly quoting my own fanfictions.

“You’re one to talk.” he squinted back at me for a moment. “But yeah, that's how we were. But then the fucking war started over some fucking coal and everything went to shit.” He gritted his teeth recalling the centuries past.

I nodded getting rather enraptured in his story, I had to know yet I slowly TKd out that box of mac-n-cheese I mentioned earlier. It would serve as a great substitute for this mythical popcorn stuff I heard so much about. Gotta focus~

“-that everypony was busy shooting each other for the first time in a millennium, nopony knew how to fight a modern war except the zebras, and Rarity’s friends got to run the country! Then everything went to shit!”

I raised a hoof after stuffing a hoofful of pre-war pasta in my mouth. “Didn’t you already say things went to shit?”

“Well this was shit 2.0!” he waved to emphasize the level of ‘more’ he was referring to. “Do you have any idea what's worse than Zebra partisans bombing factories, bridges, and community centers? Poisoning water supplies and cutting power lines?”

“What?..” my mind painted a mental image of a comically evil zebra running around and punting random foals.

“The mare fucking paparazzi!” he growled, gritting his teeth and curling his brown hoof into a more fist-shaped hoof. Sensitive subject it seems…

I raised my hoof for another question: “What uhh… whats a paparazzi? Is it one of those circular bread things I saw on a sign earlier?”

“Cancer on legs that’s what! Bucking, mud raking, wastes of DNA!” His forelegs curled like he wanted to hold something to tear up. “Those bloodsuckers, those… ughh! Shit hit the fan for Ponyville the instant the ministries were founded, they ruined everything.”

“What did they do?..” I asked getting another hoofful of pasta. ~Crunch Crunch~

“They descended on Ponyville like vultures. Anypony and everypony that had even the slightest relation to the ministry mares were targeted. They harassed us for years trying to dig up dirt on the ministry mares. You couldn’t leave your house without these assholes harassing us to see if we knew Rainbow Dash was allergic to peanut butter, or how many affairs Rarity was having!”

“That sounds awful…” I couldn't relate though, I can barely even imagine getting that level of attention from others.

He huffed. “And it got worse.” How could it possibly get worse?! “Sweetie-Belle~ my Sweetie-Belle… she could sing, I knew she could, you know she could, everypony knew she could sing, but it took her years to realize it. Her future was as bright as she was, far better than mine. And with her older sister running the Ministry of Image-”

“Her career exploded overnight…” I thought aloud.

He agreed. “Not just the MOI, but Stable-TEC too. Lots of concerts, record deals, and good press to be had when the head of the MOI is your big sister and you’ve got a multi-billion-bit company at your back.”

I could see the connections coming together. “And now that she was famous too…these paparazzi ponies doubled down on harassing you and your mom?”

“Nail on the fucking head. Halfway into the war most of the original residents of Ponyville had either been drafted or fled town to escape the harassment.”

“Including you and your mom…”

“Bingo! Welcome to escape house number 3!” He gestured to the house around us. “Figured the last place they'd look for us was where the Papperazi ran thickest, Applewood itself. Billionaire MOI film stars, homeless pony epidemic, crime for days, and rotten from curb to cloud. It was perfect.”

“So how does this lead to you and Sweetie-Belle being more…” I looked into my empty macaroni box for the right words. “A thing?”

He smiled weakly yet what little color he had left drained. “I like to think that I was the last island of the life she had before… Everypony else moved on with their lives, working in government, fighting the zebras, or too self-interested to really be her friend. Then there was me, Button-Mash, still living with his Mom and trying to get an IT degree. I’d have gone into game design but Rarity killed every studio she got her hooves on.”

I blinked opening the cheese sauce packet next. “That sounds as sad as it is sweet.” you'd think the saint of generosity would be all over video games given the sheer volume of zebra-killing games made for the pipbuck.

“It is… was…” he looked down pulling his Sweetie-Belle coffee mug from his robe pocket and gently turned it around. The faded image of the great founder smiling up to him. “She wrote to me constantly ya know, sent me tickets to every concert even if they were on the other side of Equestria. Even invited me to events just to keep me around…” He sighed sinking further into himself “I couldn’t give her anything in return. Nothing that could compare anyways..”

“Like?”...what?…I had to ask!

“I’m a broke- I was a broke college colt who lived with his mom. I couldn’t get a job to save my life, did nerd shit all day, and only left the house for class or games.” is this what self-loathing looks like? Do I look like this to everypony else? “So every time she was in town we, and I can’t believe how pathetic this sounds out loud, hung out in my room. Catching up, reminisced how things used to be, played Lords of Humgonia 4, lamented how things were going at Stable-TEC, song ideas, anything.. I mean, how many stallions can say they were dating a pop star am I right?” he sniffled yet smiled harder. Oh no…

“I can't…” I could barely see myself with PJ or Bronze and popularity-wise they were nobodies in 83. But I had this feeling…an ear twitchy feeling, Button’s was about to tumble.

He looked down at the mug in his shaking hooves “I had her in my hooves, and we shared a beanbag chair and gamed like we were kids again.” He shuddered, holding the mug close to his chest, words warbled. “Sh-She sang like an angel, so I could sleep. She made the anger go away, the frustration, so long as she was there…” he gritted his ancient teeth breath getting caught in his raspy throat. “And all I could do was tell her about the next Ogres and Oubliettes game I was hosting.”

Aaaand now I’m concerned. “Buttons, I’m speaking from experience when I say you’re about to spiral. You need to pull up or you’re gonna crash-” Aaaand too late.

“I was going to interview at Stable TEC tomorrow. I could finally be with her, travel with her rather than wait for fate and shit to bring her back! Figure out h-how to show her I love her! Properly! That she was everything to me!” His withered jaw clattered as he started choking on the words, what little tears his body had left to give after 200 years began spilling down his frayed cheeks. “Just to make the pain go away. She’d be there making everything wrong in the world disappear. We could be kids again.. Just for one more minute. Just a few seconds of everything being okay.” He reached forth weakly grabbing me by the collar of my stable suit as his mug clattered to the ground. “Why did she have to be right? Why did any of them have to be right?” he began to sob, sliding down to the floor. “Sweet FUCKmake it stop! Sweetie make it all stahahahahap!” he cried, curling up to hold his head, crying for Sweetie-Belle to ease his anguish. To make his awful world simple again.

To this day, I firmly believe there are very few ponies in the world who could’ve prepared to handle a situation like this, and I…will never be one of them. From one psychological minecart wreck to another I could sympathize, oh by the goddesses could I sympathize, but I’m not Pickle-jar, I’m not a therapist, and the last pony I had cry on me like this was Tulip. So what did I do? Was I calm and collected saying everything was going to be okay? No. I panicked.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Hesitant at first I tried to get a hoof around him and prop him back up. “Buttons, Buttons, you’re gonna be okay buddy. Don’t cry’ please for the love of bucking apple nuggies don’t cry!” my words were as effective as I was with a pickaxe. So bad the rocks got bigger when I hit them. I am NOT the mare built to comprehend what he was going through. Those pre-war therapists may have been onto something about the anger, trust, and apathy issues. So much hate and frustration roiling under the surface, his life upended by events outside his control. The paparazzi ruined his ability to trust anypony other than his mom, Sweetie Belle, and others who followed the, in that era, silly bro code. His mom was probably the only pony with enough maternal instinct to see he was keeping it all tapped down with apathy. Nopony to uncork the bottle if you refuse to give a shit about everything that could open it. Wait… his mom!

“Button’s Mom!!!!” I yelled, abandoning the imploding Button-Mash for just a moment to run outside. I need an adult! I mean I AM an adult, but I need an adult more adult than me!

She was still at the table getting chatted up by one of the jelly-smeared pegas trying to talk her into a second or fifth. Looking back with a bob in her mane. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

I screeched to a halt in front of her and blurted out a new language, “Bubada hergaff ‘Buttons’, merpada ‘on the floor’ andhegonna ‘Spiral’ aloder da orr ‘n ‘crying’ n ‘HELP!!” I flailed and jumped in place trying to get even more of her attention than I already had. I feel my violent pointing at the door conveyed my point better though.

“Oh goodness not another attack!” She blew right past me with only the speed a worried mom could have. “Button-Mash? Where- Buttons!”

I peered ever so meekly around the edge of the door frame to see what was happening on the living room stairs. What? I was worried about him! I only caught a glimpse of his mom holding him on the stairs saying…something.. Before-

“Sup?” said a Moko suddenly appearing behind me with a half-eaten PB and J sammich… of which I have yet to get one!

Did I scream? Do you think I screamed reader? Well too bad! It was just a dignified startled squeal. “AHH!!” With equally dignified flailing.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. It's cool babe.” He shrugged taking another bite of his sammich. “Called it when I said he was gonna be one of them sad ghouls.” he nodded taking another bite.

Recollecting myself. “I uhh.. I don't think you ever said that? And what do you mean sad ghouls?”

“Didn’t I?...” he looked pensive for a moment before switching gears. “Oh you wouldn’t believe how many ghouls I've met over the years babe. Those guys can party hard given their chem tolerance. But yeah, he’s one of them sad types. Could tell he was a pre-war oldie the instant I saw him wearing the robe.”

“What does a robe have to do with him being pre-war?...Are you high again?”

“Unfortunately no. Still coming down. It's just-” he takes another bite. “Post-war ghouls usually wear armor ‘n stuff… They don’t wear old comfy clothes cause they can barely feel ‘em. So he’s either rich, or it’s something he had from before the war babe.” He went to take another bite. “Aww.. where’d the sandwich go?..” He looked around, even stood to check if he sat on it. “Was there a sandwich?...Ya know, ghouls handing out free food is the kind of shit I see when I hit the turbo.. Oh man, this one time at my dad’s place there was this griffon, right? Guy’s name was Beakers and he mixed this-”

I could feel my own brain cells starting to sizzle by proxy watching this guy struggle to function. It made my eyelid twitch wondering how a stallion could look so hot yet still short like a terminal in a bathtub. “Moko…”

He stopped his stoner ramblings to look back at me. “Yeah?”

“Let's just…” I sighed holding the bridge of my nose. Button’s situation is not something I am prepared to assuage, much less fix given how dead the saint of good intentions probably is. As awesome a story plot Sweetie-belle being out there as a ghoul only to be reunited with a lamenting Button’s after 200 years would be… It’s so sappy I could cry. But I doubted the odds. “Let's go see your dad. This isn’t the place for us to be right now…”

“Uhh… sure. The vibe ‘round here was getting kinda down anyways.” He shrugged. “Now where did my sandwich go?...”

—

It was quiet… too quiet. That’s what I would write if Moko wasn’t prancing down the streets doing another one of his little self-inspired pep songs. I get it, ‘Moko keeps on movin’, but he never got bored of it!

Was the trip completely uneventful? Not really, There were still a few of those war-field ferals running around in their LARP armor… surprisingly similar to raider armor in terms of construction methodology now that I think about it. Not that it stopped me from blasting holes in them whenever one crawled out of a broken storefront to nibble on my ass. Who knew Eyes-Forward-Sparkle was so useful for spotting these guys? Not me!

Also, who’s idea was it to paint the whole goddess damn wasteland this dull shade of green? Wasn’t that Gardens of Equestria thing supposed to fix all this or is the balefire radiation just cooked into brick and mortar? At least the sky was…overcast white.. Luna bucking damn it. “Hey Moko, How far away is your dad’s place anyways?”

“Huh?” he looked back. “Oh uhhh, well Dad’s place is one of those coastal cliffside mansion things, great view minus the occasional tentacle waving three-headed sharks around. And uhh–”

“Wait what? I thought you said your dad's place was only an hour away!?”

“An hour?..” he muttered to himself. “Ohhhhh nonononoo babe~ Ya see, my dad’s studio is like, right over there.” He pointed down the street to a series of large rounded roofs and streets walled off by the husks of autowagons. The buildings were large and blocky like warehouses but too fancy to be used like them. “Our actual house on the coast tho~” he shook his head self-assured he was the best tour guide in the west. “Betcha didn’t know you were following a guy that has a mansion huh?”

I squinted finding it easier and easier not to glance down at his tone zony ass or his heavy… not staring! “You mean your dad's mansion right? That he maintains, with his power, and his money, and his soldiers? Cause he's, ya know, a warlord?”

He sighed rolling his eyes. “Ya know babe, this inability of yours to look past little details like ‘ownership’ and ‘money’ is really gonna make it hard for you to get a guy one day. You sound like all those mares that whine about things like ‘protection money’ and ‘what do you mean you're broke’ and ‘I’m married’” he air quoted with his hooves. “Loosen up and don't sweat the little stuff, just.. Ya know, don't be a narc.”

“Hey!” I'm not a narc!

“Is for horses~ Haha!” he zinged before prancing ahead with his go-lucky too stoned-to-care laugh.

I ran after him, but that's when I saw it, right there on the sidewalk, the dawn of the greatest addiction known to mare! I halted in my tracks and- “Ohh a desk fan!” yoinked the desk fan. Forget Moko! Maybe I could fix it and get some semblance of pre-war air conditioning around here! That addiction… was random bullshit I can fill my inventory with!

[Wild Wasteland!]+[Lineage of Laughter.]

“I see you, Angel of Applewood.” said a calm, yet knowing voice from right in front of me as if talking to a friend he’d been waiting for for a long time. But I don't know anypony who sounds like that…

It was an elderly zebra who hadn't been there before. His coat faded grey and covered in tattered rags. He sat in a ring of salt with his back to a brick wall now lined with numerous candles. I could tell it was salt cause of the open ‘kosher salt’ box next to him. I’d scream as per usual when somepony suddenly appears next to me but- “Ho-Fuck! Your eyes!!” I screamed, recoiling away from the EYELESS zebra.

Blood streaked down his cheeks from the gory red sockets and dripped onto the beads and bags hanging around his neck. He smiled all the same. “Still thy heart and worry not, for I am but the messenger.”

“Messenger?! What about your eyes?! How are you alive- and smiling?! How- Why- Where’s a doctor?! How are you- and your blood on the-!” I sputtered as too many questions surged forth as I backstepped from the bleeding zebra, pointing a hoof at his…err.. terrifying everything.

With a simple wave of his hoof, I got none of my answers. "She shall arrive in the city of broken dreams on great wings of fire. Her heart chained to the six demons that serve as her body and soul, raging for control. Woe speaks the stars of those whom cross the angel. Creator and defiler of graves, she shall be the dreamer, seeker, and destroyer.”

Why does all this esoteric crap keep happening to me when nopony else is around?! “Okay… I don't have wings, so who are you talking about? Wait, are you real?-”

“Go now master of demons, blazing alicorn, Honesty rebels even now." he gave another small wave of his hoof, the candles starting to flicker out.

“Hey Moko! Is this guy one of yours?!” I yelled down the street before looking back. “And you…” He was gone. In his place sat the stumps of candles long since petrified by balefire. The wall behind where he sat was now caked in old newspapers fluttering in the breeze. The legible headlines read many haunting statements. ‘Stripes riot in Applewood’, ‘Sympathizers plague the streets’, and ‘Local homeless zebra slain in street, 'drug-addled dissenter' says local patriot’. I froze as among the old newspapers were degraded images of the zebra I just talked to with the same kind smile, and his eyes closed but very much intact. There were odd pink streaks over all of it and when I backed away I got the bigger picture. ‘Ministry of Murderers’ was spray painted in big bold, hot pink..

This was a lot of context clues to take in all at once. Not only did having the apparent GHOST of a zebra give me some kind of unhinged prophecy, but… he didn’t die from the bombs. He was murdered right here in the street who knows how long ago. And unless I’m reading all these newspapers wrong… ponies killed him, gouged his eyes out …and the Ministry of Image turned it into a piece about quashing zebra sympathizers?! [INT 10] Wait no… Something’s off. The vandal deliberately used hot pink and a word that started with an M instead of an ‘I’ like ‘Image’. They could have called it the Ministry of Injustice, or intolerance, or something. So either they were less than creative and only had one color of paint, or they were pointing the blame at the Ministry of Morale… Pinkie-Pie. But, why would she kill a homeless zebra?! If he was a spy I could understand but spies never become ghosts-

“Seriously? How old do I look babe?”

“AH!” I jumped as Moko appeared next to me.

“I’m like…” he circled a hoof around his general visage. “A hot and forever sexy 20-something. And that guy-” he pointed at the poster. “Easily died like, 10 years ago at least.”

His fried sense of time and flawed history aside, he only gave me a small heart attack this time. “Moko… I got some questions. First, when was the last time you were sober? Or..I dunno.. Drank water?” I squinted.

“Uhhhhh…” He uhhed…and uhhed some more…and kept uhhing until I moved onto the next question.

“Close enough” I face hoofed and pointed at all the posters and graffiti. “I haven’t been on the surface long, and it’s sad to say you are my current best source of information right now.”

“Why thank babe~ Always here to help mares with uhhh…” he scratched his head glancing around. “What was I helping you with?”

You know what? I can use this… “You were about to tell me about the zebras in Applewood and what all this-” I pointed harder at the posters “is about.”

“Ooooohhhhhh yeah.” he brightened up like the lights upstairs flickered back on. “My dad may have gotten all kinds of awards and fancy titles and stuff like ‘director’ and ‘CEO’ and ‘star’ “ he air quoted with his hooves. “But he always said his proudest title was ‘The Last Zebra in Applewood’. I think he wrote a book about it once…or was it a script?”

“The Last zebra in Applewood? Is he literally the last one? How could he possibly know? This place is massive!”

“Oh nonono babe~ it wasn’t a literal title, like.. There's still a couple other zebras around Applewood these days, but that just like.. what people used to call him.” Moko shrugged “Sounds pretty sweet to me, makes him sound all mysterious and broody.”

So Moko’s dad is known as the last zebra in Applewood, and yet there are other zebras out and about. “Okay.. why?” simple questions for the simple stallion.

“Cause of shit like that.” he pointed at the posters again.

I blinked. “What?”

“Yeah no, stuff like that used to happen all the time babe. Ya know with the war and whatever, lots of ponies blamed zebras for everything.” he pointed up to the news article about sympathizers. “It was like this whole vicious cycle babe. One zebra gets caught doing some sketchy shit for Zebrica, somepony loses family to the war, or their kids get all depressed ‘n shit. Who better to blame than the Zebras am I right?”

Sketchy.exe was processing, torn between absorbing the information or putting more effort into keeping Moko focused. I slid out my archive and did the former. “Go on…”

“Well, the way Dad explained it, it was a terrible time to be a zebra anywhere in Equestria, but especially in Applewood. The Ministry of Image had a stranglehold on the city, telling ponies what they could and couldn’t make and what they could and couldn’t say. Plus, the Ministry of Moral was there to tell them what they could and couldn’t think too.” he stepped closer to the posters, passing his hoof over them like an unsorted storyline. “They made sure ponies were afraid of zebras, always suspicious, but couldn't be bothered to put the same effort into saying the locals were perfectly fine.”

“And anypony who complained?...”

“If they didn’t disappear, they lost everything. Your career was forfeit if Rarity decided she didn’t like you, and If you complained? You vanished, a dirty sympathizer. The zebras did most of the vanishing.” he walked down the wall looking at the individual newspapers. “Everyone was afraid of us, refused to trust us, hated us even though we hadn’t done anything. They targeted us, accused us of being traitors and chem pushers.” he moved his hoof to the tattered headline about the homeless crisis getting out of control. “They caused it. Before the war, plenty of zebras had jobs here. But after… none could get hired for anything but the most demeaning work. And those who already had jobs were pushed out. Better to paint stripes on a pony than risk a zebra working in the studio. First their jobs, then their homes.”

This was getting hard to write. I mean, I get being pissed at the enemy trying to destroy all of Equestria, but… I’m sure 99% of the local zebras had nothing to do with it. “And the riots? The murders? How did it escalate that far?”

“I dunno…” he peeled back a few of the papers to reveal a more intact poster. A familiar one from the stable clinic. A sad saint Fluttershy flanked by a pair of evil-looking zebras. ‘War, fear, death. We must do better!’ written across the top and at some point circled many times by a marker and stripes drawn all over her body. “Dad always said it was a terrible time to be a zebra. So terrible most zebras were pushed into ghettos or onto the streets leading to the other end of the cycle. Pushed to desperation the zebras got together and became the murderers, chem pusher, and thieves the ponies accused them of being. Ponies got more afraid and lashed out harder, more zebras pushed to desperation. And repeat unto the end of everything. By the end bands of zebras and ponies divided Applewood up into territories, killing each other on sight. Drive-bys, fire bombings, foalnappings, revenge killings, and whatever other creative methods they could cook up to hurt eachother.”

“That kinda sounds like how Applewood is now from everything everypony keeps telling me.”

“Oh, this is completely different. We do all those things for fun now. There’s no hate involved, and everypony follows the rules the warlords agreed on. Much safer these days babe~ Ponies actually have respect for eachother and nopony is spurring anypony else on. Not like the MOI and MOM were doing.” he went back to the newspaper about the riots. “Dad said they’d start shit, something small like… brutally killing some no-name zebra in the street.” He nodded to the crime scene we were standing in. “Then they'd use the riots to say they needed more guards, more control, more censorship, more everything… And that’s just one of the things that got Dad into a pissing contest with Rarity.”

“How could we do that to our own ponies?!” The saints wouldn't do something like that! Pinkie’s job was to make ponies happy, make them cake, to celebrate! And Rarity- “Hold up!...your dad… the guy we're going to see right now, had beef with Rarity?”

“More like has, He’s never gotten over the shit she caused for him. Like he HATES that bitch…the hate sex would have been amazing for both of them I think…”

Screeeeeeeeeee- “WHAT?!” That’s mathematically impossible! Only ghouls, dragons, and the Goddesses live that long. So given Moko's lack of scales, halo, or rotting flesh his dad is clearly none of the above! “How?! That was over 200 years ago!”

“Why don't you ask him? Studio’s right over there…” he looked down the street to the stuidos again.

I blinked. “Oh yeah,” I looked down at my book. “That would be easier wouldn’t it?...” Closing my book and adjusting my glasses I pointed ahead heroically. “Onward then! We quest for knowledge!”

Moko came over and adjusted my heroic stance with a few nudges. “Love the enthusiasm babe, buuut this needs to be a little higher, the support hoof a little further back, roll your shoulders, aaand perfect!” he patted me before walking ahead.

I blinked mildly frozen in my new posture. “What the buck just happened?... Did…did I just get posed like a mannequin?” That would explain all the strangely posed mannequins I keep seeing everywhere.

I could tell we were getting close cause the streets were clear of refuse, no husked-out cars other than the ones that made up the walls. Buildings were stripped to the brick and the street… Hoooo that's ALOT of landmines. They didn’t even try to hide them every few feet was another in a seemingly endless grid. I skittered back when I heard the first beep with the perfectly justifiable fear of exploding. “Moko…How the hell are we supposed to get inside?.... Moko?” I back to him to see the zony happily skipping through the minefield. “MOKO!! Are you trying to die again?!” I yelled pulling at my mane.

He stopped surrounded by ominously beeping landmines. “What? Ohhh right, you never been here before. Heh, silly me…” he spaced out for a moment. “What was I?... oh right. Nah babe, they may all look the same, but some of them are set to beep forever. The only way to tell 'em apart is to listen to how fast they beep.”

“That’s suicidal! And dumb!”

“Is it really dumb if it works babe? Just move 'em around every few days and you never need to post guards.” He explained starting to hop between the mines. “La da da da DA ta Da Da duh duh!! La Da da de dum~ Dee Dee, De dum!~”

He’s nuts but I can’t deny the effectiveness of such a defensive measure. There were so many of them you couldn’t charge into the place, and anypony trying to trial and error their way into the studios would easily get spotted. And anypony not used to getting in and out would take too long and also be spotted. The smart thing to do would be to follow Moko and listen for the off-sync beeps in the mines… Here I go!

I hopped, doing my best to retrace Moko’s path, surrounded by the chorus of certain beeping death. This is the kind of thing that makes your ass so tight you crap diamonds and I gotta say, gunfights were less stressful. But I could hear it. Among the steady beeps were ones in sync with Moko’s muttered singing.

‘Bee bee bee beep beep, bee beep, beep beep. Bee- bee- bee- be-Beep! Be-beep! Be-beep~!’

This was the deadliest game of hopscotch I’ve ever played in my life, not that I ever got to play with anypony but myself, but that sad fact paled in comparison to the relief I felt once we crossed the minefield and walked right into the studio compound.

“Thank fuuuuuuck!” I flopped to the pavement having gone through all the stress I had to give today in a matter of the two longest minutes of my life!

Moko stood there looking down at me like it was nothing. “Heeey you made it babe~ half the girls I bring back here usually chicken out or get turned to paint. Awesome doll~” he gave me a patronizing pat.

I groaned hugging the pavement. The sweet, safe pavement. “I never wanna do that again…”

“Yeaah, we’ll probably use the front door next time when we head for the club~”

“THE WHAT?!!” I sprung up ready to test if ghosts can breathe with my hooves around their throats. “There's a bucking front door?!” Actually… I’m just gonna strangle him here and now.

He acked and coughed as my nerdy forehooves throttled the larger stallion. “Chill babe chill! I get you’re mad but we would have had to walk all the way around!” he strained under my lil hoves trying to pry me off. I… wasn't too good at choking out a stallion of this size with my wimpy nerd hooves…nor could I put my heart into it. Goddesses, he was too stupid for his own good! He risked our lives to save a few minutes of walking, by going through a minefield! The epitome of inconvenience!! Especially to the poor me-shaped mare that steps on the one that doesn't beep just right! REEEE!!! I’ll kill him! I’ll make him eat a landmine! I’ll-

“Help! Sompony help me!” A mare voice cried out.

I froze mid my poor attempt at strangling. “Was uhh… was that you?”

He tapped on my foreleg and his voice strained under my hooves. “Lil harder babe, I can almost feel it, Just squeeze a bit harder. Do me a solid and hit me with some Dash right as I’m about to black out~”

I, feeling sexual repulsion for the first time in my life, quickly let go of him and scooted away. “Eughh!”

“Won’t anypony save me from these dastardly raiders? Won’t anypony help me? I’m afraid of guns and knives and whatever these heathens will do to me!” that mare’s voice cried out again.

“There's that voice again… but who the hell would be calling for help IN a warlord compound?” I asked myself looking around for the source of the sound. Nopony else was around.

“Will somepony bucking help me already!?”

“Alright, alright! Geez!” I huffed drawing my flintlock. Time to prove I’m not turning into some kind of psychopathic murder-mare, gotta do heroic things, and get more good deeds done today. Killing raiders is a good start… if there’s only like, one or two of them.

Don’t get killed, raped, or kidnapped sketchy… don't get killed, raped, or kidnapped…

I charged off towards where the voice seemed to be coming from, and I think Moko was calling out to me, but potential proof of non-insanity was too good to pass up! I went down an alley to where one of the walls had collapsed long ago. I climbed up the pile of bricks to see a blonde mare in a stable suit locked in a cage suspended above a bonfire. Good goddesses another stable suit?! Out here!? Three raiders were arguing with some fancy-maned green stallion in riot barding. They were distracted! It was my time to shine! To save my fellow stable dweller!

I jumped out, flintlock ready for grand heroics! “Let the captives go raider scum!”

They had a moment to look back in the instant I heard one of them start to say “Who-” I started blasting.

PWOOOOM!!

A red beam scorched across the raider camp and burned a hole right through one of those sadistic spike enthusiasts! Seeing him fall to smoldering pieces I realized I could easily take these guys! What more surprising Is I actually hit somepony for once-

“CUUUT!!”

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Musket Mare (Rank 2)

-Crank it baby! Operates as per (rank 1) but you now get 3 charges per crank instead of 2.

Author's Note

I have no editor and I must scream. I get the feeling this story would be alot shorter if I had one...