Fallout: Equestria - The Lunar Archives

Chapter: 3 ‘One year’

I don't think the stable door has ever looked more intimidating, the longer I looked at it the more the idea it could move seemed wrong. Of the few times I’ve seen the stable door, with its big yellow flaked 83, this was the longest I’d stared at it. The entryway to 83 had been little more than an odd room somepony might need to pass through between the back of security to an offshoot of F1 housing. The room that saw three maybe four ponies a week for two hundred years now had as many as could fit in it. The neglected room speckled with rust, and the remains of welcome decorations two hundred years past use were untouched by all but time. Everything was expectantly degraded, and the extended lattice catwalk from the floor up to the door even moreso. Nopony except maybe some elementary foals had ever touched that ramp, daring each other to go up there and touch the big bad door. Those lessons about how deadly the outside was were quite effective, I had never touched it myself, nor did I have any cruel friends to peer pressure me into touching the big scary slab of balefire stopper. Beyond the door had always been pure oblivion, like an oozing mass of blackness pooled up on the other side, the door a plug in the tub to keep the stable dry and alive.

Around me were a trickle of spectators, but everypony from our little feast last night had shown up to see me off into the unknown. Them and the overmare anyways since she had to be the one to manually input the code at the door terminal. Technicians combed the room over about two hours ago to make sure that most of the systems should work. ‘Should’ being the keyword there given they were never going to test it. What if it got stuck? Dad, Pickle, Tulip, Bronze, and even their parents, had all come to my supposed final supper. We’d left a seat empty at the table for mom and Miss Appleboom praying they’d used the seat while goodbyes were being made. The doom of the morning after tainted the festivities and hung over us like the storm clouds in the story books. Guess I’d be seeing real ones soon too if I lasted that long.

The overmare was setting up for another one of her little speeches, her mobile podium being wheeled in next to the door terminal. Of course she’d have one on wheels, her whole thing was grand public displays. While Blueburst was busy ordering around the maintenance crew to set up some of the last remaining speakers, it gave me plenty of time to come up with creative ways to suppress the mounting dread. Taking inventory for one is an option, maybe even a dramatic flashback or two? Oh I know! I could stand here and imagine the door falling off the hinges and squishing the overmare like a Stable-Tec safety cartoon. That last one felt best until I remembered the new literal weight that hung around my neck and glanced down. The 6 pointed star of tarnished silver filled the palm of my hoof when I held it, looking it over once more. I sighed internally… mostly. Right, ‘I vow to be kind’ , guess that means I need to try and suppress the urges for cartoonish violence to befall certain ponies too. Think about something else, anything else brain. I still felt full from last night though, I didn't think I'd ever see so many apple foods and canned tacos in one place. I could smell it now.

The atrium had cleared out of most hoof traffic when the evening set in going home or enjoying the extra day off elsewhere. Me and dad had just come out of the chapel from blessing my quest to find half the guests had already gathered. Pickle set the table with assistance from two of the remaining kitchen staff who stuck around to fulfill the probably very expensive order. Several of the square tables were brought together to make a grander long one to fit us all. The assortment though was something I could drool over. Everything I could imagine a chef pony capable of with just apples was available on the table. Whole, fried slices, cobbler, pie, cider, juice, sauce, and jelly. Not to say it was the only thing though, somepony… probably DAD! told pickle about how much I loved canned taco night as a filly. On the table neatly stacked in a bowl was a dozen of the ever-fresh white wonder balls. One of the chefs, a brown earth pony with a can opener mark on his ass, was busy opening cans and neatly organizing more of the white oval-ish balls into the bowl. A tiny Celestia and Luna were prancing around the table gawking in foallike amazement at all the comparatively giant food around them. The mini Celestia doing a backstroke in the punch bowl while the tiny Luna was busy sniffing and nudging at the one odd food item out of the pile. A lone pretzel large enough I might have to hold it in both hooves to take a bite out of it. It had taken me a second to figure out why a pretzel in particular while I approached the table checking out the spread. When it hit me though I got a knowing eyebrow wiggle from the tiny Luna standing on the plate and a much more real giggle from Pickle down the table who’d commissioned such a rarity. My cheeks burned and I quickly tried to drown the fire by scooping and downing one of the many mugs of apple juice from the table.

I gazed into the bottom of the mug as I drained the contents, only to find a certain pickle-inclined mare standing next to me when I finally lowered it. “Ah!” I flinched, having not even heard her approach that fast. What came next though…

“So Sketchy, you like making your former bullies cry huh?” Pickle’s tiny smirk was icing on the ‘oh shit’ cake as I started choking on the apple juice I had been trying to swallow. Wrong pipe! Letting go of my mug to get a hoof on the table and hold me up during my coughing fit.

“Wait, no! How did you know about that? I can explain! I apologized!” I panicked looking up to the taller mare trying to quickly think of a way to not only defend myself but figure out how she knew I made Tulip cry. Princesses don't be pissed at me!

Pickle sighed and turned my mug upright, pushing it back to what was probably my plate.. “I know you apologized Sketchy, that's why I’m not mad. I found her in the bathroom crying her eyes out.” My poor heart. “She told me you were an ass to the mare who hurt you and in the end, you felt like an ass for it. Even tried to repair the shattered remains of her dignity. Ya know after you took a sledgehammer's worth of emotional damage and got her square between the hinds with it.” My own nethers and the mini princesses winced in sympathy pains at the descriptor. “Consider feeling bad for making Tulip cry and that mental image you can’t unsee punishment enough.” she gave me a pat and I groaned sulking on the spot.

“I didn't know, okay? I’m not like you, I don't see these ‘social cue’ things a mile away. They keep hitting me in the face!” I huffed folding my hooves over my chest after I wiggled my haunches into what I assumed was my seat.

“And here I thought you liked the idea of things hitting you in the face repeatedly.” I blinked not knowing whether that was a sex joke or one about how all the violence in my life involved getting hit in the face. Either way, did nigh emotionless Pickle just make a funny?!

“Was that a-” I started.

“Very much so, interpret that how you will.” she pushed me and my seat forward to the table with surprising earth pony strength. Okay brain, she left the window wide open for the joke to be wholesome, don’t go assuming it's about buck’s- “There's that look you make when you try too hard to not be dirty-minded again.”

“Luna damn it, will ponies stop pointing it out? I'm trying!” I grumbled and slumped in my seat.

The table was set and most of the guests were here. Pickle sat next to me, while dad was busy conversing with Pickle’s parents plus the kitchen staff from across the table. The two tiny alicorns of my imagination were bouncing on a slab of apple jello, clearly having a blast doing trick flips with each ascent. “So, want me to ease the guilt and tell you why I think Tulip is the way she is? Before she arrives, preferably.” Pickle-jar offered while she refilled my mug from a pitcher before getting her own.

“I… N-No. I probably deserve to feel bad.” I answered weakly imagining the sight of tulip sniffling on the hallway floor mere hours after she had been the baddest mare I knew.

“You sooo do~” she added, sipping her juice.

My ears went flat. “Gee thanks, somepony agrees I should feel bad.”

“Only a little, but I'm going to tell you anyway.” Now I was a little confused.

“Wha? I just said I didn’t want to know.” I turned from my sulk to look at her.

Pickles leaned in, still wearing that beautifully smug grin. “That's what you said, but not what you mean. You're too nosy to not want to know, just like your dad.” Crap she was right.

Dad coughed from across the table and tried to whistle as innocently as possible, looking in any direction but at me and Pickle. “Ohh don’t these canned tacos look lovely? I'm sure the chefs labored over these all day.” I squinted at him in a way only a daughter was allowed to squint at her dad… in judgment for eavesdropping! I pointed a hoof at him, then my eyes, then back at him. He gave the family famous ‘innocent’ smile.

The rapid pointing of the tiny princesses brought me back to Pickle. “Okay, fine. I wanna know, but only cause you talked me into it!” I pouted, trying to exude the sheer amounts of grump I was feeling.

“Adorable that you thought it was up to you.”

I pouted harder, folding my forelegs. “I better be adorable..” The words left my muzzle before I could think them over.

"She resented you because you got your cutiemark before her, and every year she didn't get hers just made Tulip dislike you more. Her natural inclination to respond to conflict with anger compounded with her envy to accumulate into an emotional little powder keg. You weren't the only mare in 83 figuring out how her barn doors swung in middle school, Sketchy.” she sipped her cider giving me a second to process.

“My barn doors swang fine! She’s the one with the revolving door strapped to a high torque motor.” Curse you, teenage years! Making everything super awkward for everyone!

“I’m sure they do Sketchy, but I was getting to that second part. Seeing you, the early bloomer, be the first to try making a move on me with that card and pin-up really lit her fuse. So she attacked you, and just like somepony I know, developed her own little twisted relation with sex to compensate for the pain. Jumping from buck, to mare, to buck again in a desperate attempt to feel the love, affection, and respect she thinks she'll never get from me.” she continued “Happy days when she finally got her cutiemark, but the idea it conveyed, that she was a flower to be pollinated, was just lifelong insult to emotional injury." Somehow the graceful cider sipping gave her words more credibility. “Mmm… cider.”

I just sat there, lost in yet another of pickle’s psychology rants, holding my still full mug. "...and your talent is pickles?"

"Yes." she sighed matter of factually. "In reality Tulip is possibly the only mare in the stable more emotionally maladjusted than you, just in different ways." she took a longer sip looking me up and down.

Dad blinked slowly as he eyed us from across the piles of food. Of course, the fossil was still listening in despite my judgy eyes, so I advanced them from my ordinary squint to my ‘I’m upset, but you’re my dad’ squint. “Well Miss Pickle-Jar. I have to say, have you ever considered a career with the clergy? You clearly know how to read ponies better than-.”

“Daaad! No proselytizing Pickle at dinner!” I whined having to stand on my hinds to see over the pile of canned tacos. I was going to absolutely destroy those soon, just needed to get the wonder balls on my plate so I can pretend to have manners.

Pickle leaned in a little to my ear and spoke a little quieter, some menace even. “Quiet you, or I’m gonna tease you until you’re red as an apple in front of your dad. Like how cute your rear looked when you tensed up earlier. I hope you do it more when I turn you into a pretzel tonight my little-” Sweet Celestia the things she said into my poor virgin ears made them burn and my tail flick. She giggled, pulling away after the most effective verbal assault I'd ever endured.

She literally just threatened me with a good time! And it worked! “Oh that just isn't fair…” I slowly set my mug down out of fear I might possibly drop it.

“Life’s not fair dear,~” dad chimed in from across the table, table clearly cackling inside at the sight of his daughter practically burning up.

I raise a hoof reflexively to start back-sassing him only to get a white hoof on my shoulder pushing me back down in my seat. “Listen to your dad sketchy~ he’s technically one of the two reasons you're here anyways.” Pickle gave me a patronizing pat.

“Oh yeah? What’s the other reason?” I squinted, folding my hooves again. I needed to fight back! I had to win!

“Your mom~” she quipped flatly before biting the really long handle of a ladle to scoop fried apple slices onto her plate. It was so foalish, so perfect, and I walked right into it! She successfully pulled a ‘your mom’ on me like a stone-cold filly! Every colt and filly back in elementary would hail her as queen for that slapback! Why- No how!? Does Pickle keep coming out of nowhere with all this psychoanalysis stuff and comebacks I could only dream up after a half-hour shower?! I mean Luna’s horn in my ass, the mini alicorns were rolling and silently cackling in the jelly.

“Better stay down sketchy, she’s got you by the mane with that one.” Dad’s advice rang true between his chuckles. I’ve lost.

I simmered. “Just pass me the potato salad, when are Tulip and Bronze gonna-”

A crash of metal pulled me from my daydream. One of the maintenance bucks had dropped a speaker from the main floor down into the pit between the door and the main floor. It didn’t just break, it shattered, in a tiny cloud of plywood splinters and electronic guts. A deafening silence followed. All eyes were on Blueburst up on her platform. The shocked overmare’s jaw hung open before quickly warping into a mask of fury. It lasted as long as it took for her to point a hoof at the lone buck and wordlessly gesture to the door as firmly as possible. He fled from the room like his life depended on it, which it might soon. With a sigh and a deep breath, the overmare composed herself. “Guess I’ll just have to project more. Oh well~” she nearly sang, going back to organizing her podium papers. The overmare halfway reading her notes out loud while the rest of the crew got back to work. The crowd was still gathering so I was free to make sure I had everything I was going to need. All that they would give me anyways.

“Let's see…” I sat on some nearby crates away from the crews and the crowd. “Stable suit, check. Saddlebags, check.” I looked myself over at first then remembered my pipbuck could actually do most of this crap for me. I brought it up using both hoof and horn to play with the knobs. “Health, map, inventory, tasks,... inventory!” Yep, there was a convenient alphabetical list of all the supplies the overmare felt like sparing, along with everything else everypony had given me. Three canned tacos, a jar of priceless pickles from my priceless Pickle-Jar, my trusty canteen, the Harmonite medallion, and… click, click, click. They also gave me basic electrical, mechanical, and repair kits, and a document labeled ‘wires for dummies V.2,’ in the unlikely event I survive long enough to repair the sensor array.

Lastly, my book. It’s more of a tome really. I nearly had a heart attack when the overmare handed over the bound papers nearly as thick as my hoof. I had never seen so much blank paper in one place, including my room. The monster of a book had a real leather-bound hardback cover, at least I think it was real. Apparently, it was for my ‘secondary’ task… whatever in Celestia’s name that was going to be.

I had taken the trip this morning to recover my stash only to be taunted by the closed door of my room. In the silent venty hum of that hallway, I might have spent a good ten minutes staring at the rusted door to my sanctuary. I knew Bronze had plenty of time to destroy it, and by all indirect admission of their guilt, he had. I’d never seen him look so regretful. He was bad at hiding emotion, which was pretty bad if even I could tell. I mean buck, he wore the guilt so well, he made me feel bad for even having a room. especially after I told him which seat I had reserved for his mom at dinner. The symbolic gesture had apparently shaken him about as badly as the idea of my room being trashed did me. I don’t think anypony had even talked about Miss Appleboom in years, not even her dozen mystery foals talked about her. His shaky “Thank you” was all my heart needed to forgive the stallion for his actions, but… I looked at the door longer.

By the time I was done packing all my art supplies and slipping all my pictures, stories, and erm… ‘inspiration material’ into the bindings of the book I still gazed at my bedroom door. I couldn’t do it. In the end, I couldn't open that door to see the destruction of what little I had left. I’d look if I ever came back… when I came back. Think positive Sketchy, if you survive Pickle-Jar is all yours, if not she can still be happy with Tulip or Bronze.

Leaving the door behind, the only thing that stopped me was the sound of a faint chitter. I turned only to catch a faint green glow fading from one of the air vents. “I’m gonna be gone for a bit guys, but after last night there should be plenty of food for you in the kitchen trash chute.” I forgot to feed them yesterday, did they miss me? Were they going to miss me? Hopefully, nopony was around to hear and think I was insane. Steeling myself I left my corner of the world behind.

It was almost time. My bags were packed, with the massive book taking up my whole left saddle bag, leaving barely enough room for a thick eight-inch pencil one of the reactor techies managed to find. Probably as an apology for the only spare radiation suit being in much worse condition than inventory reports had led the overmare to believe. The back right leg had ripped right off the instant I tried to slip my hoof into the suit. So my compensation for the lack of a lead-lined suit was a small stick of lead-lined wood. I’d say the irony was giving me some kind of blood poisoning if the doctors hadn’t given me the all-clear when they hoofed me the medications I’d need. My right saddle bag was packed with everything else. Thanks pipbuck inventory management spell! I wouldn't have gotten half this junk in there without you.

“Psst… Sketchy!... pssst!” My ears perked and I looked over to where I was being called from. It was Pickle-jar! Stealthy she was not, but I managed to much more subtly ease over to her. Just looking at her mane reminded me of how warm it was, how I wanted to bury my face in it again and just- “You forgot this in my room.” she whispered, making a nearby Tulip’s ears perk a little and her red eyes fall. Turning her head and fishing into her mane, Pickle pulled out a worn steel comb with most of its green paint worn off.

Tulip was looking between the both of us. “I see you two got along well last night.” she commented, managing to suppress most of how it must have bothered her.

I blinked and flushed a bit. “Oh, right! That. Yeah, Pickle-jar really knows how to take a mare apart that's for sure. I mean, just.. wow~” I chuckled nervously scratching my mane as Tulip sat there a little jaw dropped.

Pickle did another of her hidden-behind-the-wrist giggles. “Sketchy, we're in public. Not exactly the place to talk about such things, remember? Or did you want to tell Tulip here about all the cute noises I got you to make?”

Tulip was turning a shade of pink I didn’t think she was capable of anymore. “Pickle, what did you do with the real whiney, wimpy ass, nose bleedy Sketchy?” She asked, gesturing a hoof at me. “Cause this clearly isn't her.”

“Oh, it's her alright. You'd be amazed how much she changed once I finally got my hooves on the little virgin here.” The faintly smiling Pickle teased yet my confidence in how much the night's events helped me was unshaken.

The look on Tulip’s face was to die for. I smiled “Changed for sure! Feel like I could hoof fight Bronze right now.” I air jabbed “In fact, I’ve never felt better thanks to your help last night Pickle. The shower, when you were all up in my mane, on your bed, my ear, She really helped me get it all out of my system.” I felt so much better I nearly giggled.

The pink mare’s eyes widened “Holy shit you're an animal…” High praise coming from a mare like her. Okay, Tulip’s look did make me giggle. It’d only take an imagination half as colorful as mine to see the mental images flashing behind her eyes. Amazed and crimson look good on her.

“Nope, Just feeling like a whole new mare! And I know full well I’m never gonna forget why.” I was able to remember it all so clearly. Wooo wavy flashback transition, go!~

It was just after dinner and most of the table was cleared of food. The mini Luna and Celestia looked more like princess-themed hoof balls than the figments of my imagination I was used to. So many ponies were full, even me. The struggle to finish gorging myself on my 5th canned taco was real. It was a crime against food to leave the half-eaten white wonder ball on my plate. Its delicious contents left open to the air unloved. Cheese, beans, lettuce… all of it waited over 200 years to be loved by me and I couldn’t fit anymore. I'd blame the massive pretzel except Pickle made that toasty fresh inside joke just for me. I’d hate myself if I turned it down. “Ughh… sweet… Celestia, so fuuuull.” I groaned with hooves over my new gut straining my stable-suit.

Dad wasn't doing any better. The pastor was passed out in his chair having eaten himself into a food coma, one of the chefs dragging him back to the chapel. I was halfway there myself while I watched anyone who could still walk picking up dirty dishes. Bronze had been pulled off to the side by Tulip’s dad, probably for a super awkward one-sided conversation about his relations with the pink mare. I had just been attempting to roll out of my seat when Tulip spoke up next to me. “Hey sketchy…” she started looking down at her hoofs.

“Ahh!” I jumped, having just gotten out of my seat. What was with all these mares sneaking up on me?! I pushed my composure back to where it was supposed to be. “Oh hey Tulip, How was the uhh.. food?” I asked sheepishly, winning smile taking the field.

I guess seeing she still had the power to scare me put a little more fire back in Tulip-Patch. “It was great. Thanks for inviting me and all that… and for not telling Pickle how I umm… yeah” she trailed, brushing her mane back with a hoof and even making a small smile. “Haven't really been invited to anything that wasn’t somepony’s bed in a long time… this was nice.”

“Don’t mention it. Your dad seems…” I looked back over my shoulder to where I saw a middle-aged pink stallion with a sprouting potato mark on his ass. The irate dad was quite busy making a brown buck twice his size nod as rapidly as a colt getting scolded. “He seems to be taking it well.”

“Oh definitely, he nearly gelded the first buck I brought home. Had a knife and everything.” she cheered up a bit watching the altercation with me. “Shut him up when I brought a mare home the next day.” I could see the smug in the corner of her mouth.

“Really? He didn’t blow up on you? He seems like the type to…” I stopped as Tulip’s dad advanced to angry hoof waving and using words like ‘irresponsible,’ ‘defile,’ and the loudest ‘My Bed!?’. Bronze shrank down with every passing second of the father’s tirade.

“Oh, that? He’s just compensating for being a pink buck with a less-than-stellar dick. Plus, gross as it is, he’d never admit how into two mares going at it he is. Mom’s words, not mine.” she chimed sitting next to me as we watched Bronze get his ass chewed out like a sport.

“That's a bit… eww.” I shifted a bit trying to sweep those mental images out of my brain’s reach. Did this count as oversharing? It was Tulip though, nothing was sacred.

“Tell me about it.” She added. Bronze was nearly cowering under his hooves now shaking his head ‘no’ to all the pink buck’s questions. “As for Bronze though..” I saw that scandalous look in her eye slowly come to me. “You wanna take him for a spin? I don’t mind, I’ll even trade you for Pickle so it’s fair. Bronze is just amaaazing at guilt sex. It’s like one of the only things that makes him try to be gentle with that thunder di-”

Her little hoof wave exaggerated the ‘amazing’ while I forgot how to breathe. Coughing and smearing red from my nose on my wrist. It took a second to make a coherent word but “You- Fu- He, I…” I wheezed. “I d-don’t think Pickle-Jar would ever consider agreeing to something like that!”

“Oh, I’m game.” My head whisked to my other side so hard I heard a pop. There was now a Pickle-Jar taking her seat with the rest of the ‘watch Bronze get verbally abused’ club. The faint smile at the corner of her mouth as she gently pressed a cloth napkin to my nose. “Tomorrow is your special day after all. It’s not my place to decide if you want to spend your first time in my bed, or getting guilt-slammed by Bronze.”

I’m gonna bleed right out through this damn napkin. Hell, I was going to need to get my hooves on a red towel. “Wh-who said anything about first?...” I mumbled, holding the slowly reddening napkin with my horn.

Tulip and Pickle just looked at each other, then at me, then back to each other, and laughed. Sweet Celestia’s beaming flank did they laugh. “Grrr…” I growled wanting to glare at both of them. “It's not that funny!” I protested only to be met with the two going hysterical, mainly Tulip though. Pickle-Jar had her hoof covering her mouth again as she giggled, which was hysterical by her flat-faced standard. “I can get bucks if I want! Mares too!” I waved my hoof at them only to be rewarded with both of them hitting the floor. Tulip slammed a hoof on the tiles while Pickle used her other forelimb to hold her side. Her precious giggles nearly turned to squeals. I just had to sit there and wait it out, skulking between the two mares losing their horse apples at the suggestion I could actually get some if I tried. “Screw both of you…” I grumbled harder.

“Ha!-Hold your horseshoes there Sketchy. That’s pretty ambitious for a mare that can’t even get Bronze in bed!” Tulip whipped back reinvigorating the giggling fit between the two. I held my hooves over my face and sank down to the floor to join them. I had to stop adding fuel to this dumpster fire.

“It was one time! And he was drunk, too drunk.” I whined trying HARD not to remember the time I attempted to hit on him outside the speakeasy down in maintenance.

Next thing I knew I felt a soft warmth around my neck guiding me to stand back up. Hooves out of the way I saw the flank of a standing Pickle-jar, her tail loosely wrapped around my neck. “Okay, I think that's enough for now Tulip. I’m going to show Sketchy here what the inside of another mare’s bedroom looks like. You should probably go save Bronze before your dad gets his gelding knife.”

That was enough to kill Tulip’s laugh and get her looking between Pickle and Bronze. The reminder that Pickle was going to sleep with me rather than her after all these years competed with concern for Bronze. “Yeah… alright. You two have fun.” Well, that certainly brought her down from nine to five real fast. “Dad! Mom said to stop being an overprotective ass. Bronze Isn’t that bad.” was the last I heard from her as she trotted over to save the berated buck. I bit my lip and felt that unfortunately non-food related weight in my gut. She was saving Bronze right now, but she still cared about Pickle like I did. I banish thee, guilty conscience! Just give me this one night! Please? I’ve been good this year!

I had about three seconds of basking in the silky warmth and sweet scent of a beautiful mare’s tail before there was a little tug. “Come along sketchy, It’ll be like the sleepover the class did for my Cute-ceañera. Except I’ll be the one brushing your mane and you’re not wetting your sleeping bag again.” With a gentle pull of her tail, my legs followed after her all on their own. My eyes constantly swapped between her flowing green mane and her flank right in front of me.

“Why is that the one detail you remember?” I groaned already having flashbacks to every humiliating detail.

“Cause you're the only one who cried like a filly half your age when mom found you trying to cram the sleeping bag down the trash chute.” I could hear her smile as she pulled me along into the main floor housing hallways.

“I-I did not!” I lied. So blatantly in fact I was pretty sure the paint on the walls started peeling behind me.

“Did too~” she called me out with smug confidence. “I know because I was the one who caught Tulip trying to hide the water bowl she put your hoof in.”

I stopped in my tracks. “That pink bitch…” The sheer betrayal I was starting to feel towards the mare I just forgave was stopped by the luscious green tail around my neck tightening. How do earth ponies even do that?! It’s just hair!

“Ah ah ah~ None of that now. We're here.” Her tail finally came off my neck when she turned to face me. Huh, I didn’t think we’d get to her room number that fast. With one boop of a button the door slid open with a little hiss. The pleasant herbal smell that hit my nose was like Pickle times two. I just took it all in as she led on. Her room was at least four times bigger than mine, and her bed didn't look like hot road apples. Old paintings hung on the walls, while little bundles of herbs hung from racks in the ceiling. She had a pyramid of empty pickle jars on her desk, and even had her own private bathroom in the back opposite a closet. Oh. and the green! lots of green! everywhere! The rugs, the bed sheets, the desk chair, the plants in her tiny hydroponics basin; it all matched her mane. “So, what do ya think?” She turned to face me as the door slid shut, almost sounding... giddy?

“It's very… very…” I looked around the room one more time.

“Green? Herby? Me?” she tried to answer for me, she was right on all accounts.

“Bigger than mine.” I admitted fighting as hard as possible not to let this turn into a who has the bigger horn contest just so I could feel better.

She blinked in pause for a moment before the realization hit her. “Oh, right, you've never been in any quarters other than your own, my parent’s and maybe your dad’s. This is actually the 83 standard flat.” she did a little wave of her hoof while I was slowly becoming a plant with all this green around me. “It’s usually what ponies first move into once they want a taste of independence from their parent’s housing. Just enough space for two ponies.” She wasn't wrong, it may have been larger, but three ponies would be a crowd, or at least a super fun time if only for one night.

“Wait a minute, I’ve had mine since I was six. I got told somepony else needed mom’s room more than me.” I huffed as the realization I was cheated settled in. “You know how nice it would be to have my own bathroom?” I asked, gesturing a hoof over at the little bathroom with, you guessed it, a green toothbrush.

“I… can’t really imagine not having one. Sorry.” oh no she was apologizing! Quick save the mood sketchy! “Did you ever put in a request for a different room? It’s how I got mine.”

“Requests are a thing?” I answered weakly. I’d been under the impression that just like dad, I'd been stuck with the closet size room I was assigned.

“Well, consider this window shopping for when you come home then. If I’d known you were sleeping in that rusted-out closet you call a room, I’d have made space for you up here. I’m allowed a second.” Pickle started digging through a dresser drawer, and my mind started to race. I'd yank Brain off the lewd thoughts tread-mill if I could, but he was too fast.

“That's really nice of you actually, though it does sound just a wee bit like p-pity.” I pointed out, trying really hard not to imagine a daily norm of getting to share a bed with Pickle. Oh, to dream~

Fortunately, she pulled out a metal comb from the drawer rather than what Brain had been hoping for. “Ahh here it is~” she said around the toothed piece of stainless steel. Setting it on the bed she continued. “Sketchy, sweetie, you're the last mare in this stable who gets to act too high and mighty for some well-earned pity. I fail to see why ponies have such an issue with being on the receiving end of empathy, especially when somepony elects to do something about it.” she sighed, before taking a few steps back to me eyeing me like she was inspecting the glasses wearing nerd she invited over.

I took a tiny step back and looked up at the taller mare. With her gazing down at me so close, I felt even smaller under her scrutiny. “Be generous? Even to those too proud to take it?” I added meekly, with a nervous smile.

The corners of Pickle’s mouth tugged into an itty bitty smile. “Exactly! spoken like a pastor’s daughter all right.” She gave my head a little patronizing pat. Oh, Celestia she was touching me again! And my cheeks were burning! Instead of her hoof pulling away, it did a long slow stroke down the back of my mane that sent a nice tingly sensation along my spine. I had to learn what that feeling was called. Pickles small smile shifted to a small frown. “Sketchy?”

“Y-yes?” I answered, snapping away from the little shiver that made my tail want to flick. Crap! Did I upset her? I looked down only for a moment to find myself sitting haunches on her big green rug. When did I sit down?

Her hoof came back up my mane till the base of my neck, another tiny shiver, until said hoof scratched a bit into my mane and pulled some loose hairs away from the rest of the orange mess. “Have you ever, and I mean this literally, ever combed your mane?”

I tilted my head a little in confusion. “Wha?” was probably not the answer she wanted to hear given she bit her lip, looking increasingly concerned. “I mean technically.” My hoof scratched into said mess of a mane right where the pure oranges faded to red-oranges. “Dad cut my mane till I was like, seven? Kinda just let it do its own thing from there.” I looked up at the bits of messy mane that came down past my forehead. Twas the reddest of my oranges.

“Is there anything more recent?” she sounded as afraid to ask as I was to answer. Her hoof having moved down to, ever so subtly by Pickle standards, wipe her hoof off on the rug. Ohh that's bad.

“Well…” it was worse that I had to try so hard to remember. “Scruffy the janitor on B-2 cut it for me once cause I kept having to blow it out of my eyes.” I smiled sheepishly because it was the only other instance I could think of.

“And… your tail?” She was not going to like my answer and she knew it was coming.

“Does getting caught in a vent fan count?” My winning smile got pushed to its limit as I tried not to sweat. How does one even force themselves not to sweat?!

She stared at me for a long moment, and not the fun plow-me kind of stare either. More of a ‘she couldn’t believe such cosmetic neglect was even possible,’ stare. “Sketchy…” She started scowling faintly.

“Y-yes ma'am?” Crap, it felt like I was in as much trouble as Bronze!

“There’s a shower in my bathroom, on the little shelf on the right is a bottle of MY conditioner. You’re going to use it. ALL of it.” she squinted a little at me and pointed a hoof over to the bathroom.

I looked between her and the bathroom and balked at the idea of imposing myself that hard upon the pretty mare hosting me for the night. “Pickle I-, that sounds a bit much don’t you think? I mean it's just my mane. I wash it. I shower more regularly than most ponies seem to think I do.” Almost daily even!

She wasn’t having it. I was already getting ‘gently’ shoved towards the bathroom. “Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Get in there. I’m going to fix this travesty if I have to do so with my bare hooves.” What did I do to get this kind of passion out of Pickle? It was just my mane after all, colorful, messy, and just… there! It took care of itself!

“Th-this really isn't necessary!” I started only to get just a little less than bucked into the bathroom.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been more fundamentally wrong Sketchy.” Her voice was flat, yet somehow conveyed her displeasure. “In fact…” She slammed the door on me and I heard a little click. Was that the lock? “You're not coming out of there-, no you're not leaving my room until I’ve had time to work your mane into something at least resembling presentable.”

“P-Pickle!” I yelled from my confinement, jiggling the door handle. The door wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t even try it Sketchy. I’ve got a screwdriver in the lock. Now I better hear that shower on in the next minute or I’m going to come in there and scrub your mane myself. I’ll get Tulip to hold you down if I have to.” She threatened from beyond the door. Was this technically foalnapping? Was she really threatening to get Tulip involved? I didn’t have answers to these questions. So I put them on my big list of unanswered questions right between ‘what’s sex actually like?’ and ‘canned tacos are healthy, right?’.

“It’s just a mane… ” I grumbled hoping she both did and didn’t hear me as I turned towards the empty walk-in shower.

“But don’t you want a silky mane that bounces with eye-catching springiness as you walk like mine?” I blinked as I swore my mental image of Pickle did dad’s flutter eyes based on how she sounded.

Oh, that was low… but Luna damn it she was right. “Yes…” I mumbled, lowering my head with a groan.

I took one step towards the shower when she spoke up again. “What was that? I couldn't hear you saying yes loud enough.” Work me over like Celestia’s favorite royal guard she's actually teasing me.

“I said yes!” I nearly yelled, taking a moment to struggle out of my stable suit, trip, fall, and eventually stumble my way muzzle-first into the shower. Face, meet tile. “Oww…”

“Good! Make sure to scrub it in. I’m going to need all those knots looser than your grooming standards to get them out.” she said before I heard her hooves stepping away from the door humming.

“Yes Mooom!!” I turned the surprisingly warm water on. Yep, it was a wide-open mineshaft of opportunity for me to make some lewd pun about being a soaking wet mare in Pickle’s room, but I was better than that right? One telekinetic hover and squeeze of the conditioner bottle proved me wrong. It made a little poot sound when the deep green sludge-looking stuff was squeezed out, and I had to fight TOO hard not to snicker. “Heh… hehe…” I did it a few more times. Fuck, I am a filly in a mare’s body.

She really needed a clock in there, cause I had no idea how long I spent trying to get all that shampoo into my mane and tail. I gotta say though, once rinsed I’d never felt or smelt cleaner! Plus I smelled like Pickle! Well, everything around here smelled like her, but now I did too! Bonus! Her mirror was fogged over and I just couldn't help myself. It was too tempting, my soul couldn't bear the weight of not doing what had to be done.

I came out of the bathroom floating Pickle-Jar’s whirring hair-dryer alongside me trying not to drip on any of the rugs. Behind me on the steamed-up mirror was a big derpy smiley face clearly drawn by the humble hoof of a master. “That shampoo stuff is amazing. I’ve never felt this… clean.” I stopped to note how much the room changed while I was gone.

The first thing of note was that Pickle-Jar was on her bed, suitless as I was. Nothing too weird. The second thing was that her bed was covered in an array of brushes, combs, files, and… was that a tin of bobby pins and hair clips? “Oh good you're finally out. Hop up, I need to work while your mane is still supple.” she patted a hoof next to where she laid, a clearing sized just for me smack in the center.

“Wow…” I stared at something that wasn’t her for once! That was a lot of cosmetic tools compared to my none, and I had a feeling she intended to use them all if necessary.

“Cmon~” She patted a little faster with that small smile having returned to her marble-like face.

“Okay okay, I’m coming.” I did my best to hop up without disturbing her carefully arranged tools, and failed. Her bed was higher and thicker than the one I’d jumped on for years. Thus my waist got caught on the edge of the bed and I flopped onto the floor like an idiot. “Ooof!” She did her little mouth-covered giggle while I groaned on the floor. I climbed back onto the spot Pickle wanted with all the grace I could manage after. “You didn’t see that.” I pouted, internally glad that mild embarrassment was a good distraction from me noticing I was in Pickle’s bed… with her, Alone… together.

She was already hoofing me a tissue just in case “Relaaax. Try to think about what your mane will look like after I’m done, rather than what I might do to ruin it after.”

I sat there looking between Pickle and the tissue about to suggest that this might be a bad idea. My mouth opened to voice my concerns only for the words to catch in my throat as something moved through my mane. “O-oh~” it was the comb, but something about it felt suspiciously good and, I can't believe it, relaxing… I never did that!

“Hold still and I’ll try to work the knots out gently.” she ordered, as another pass sent a small tingle down my spine. The smooth motion of it through my orangey reds down the spectrum was only mildly interrupted whenever the teeth hit a snag. Again and again, she passed with the steel comb, eventually shifting to systematically groom each band of color to pick the knots. “I can’t remember the last time I had another pony to do this on~ It’s refreshing really.” She seemed to be getting into it if that pleased sigh was anything to go by.

The more she combed the more I felt those little shivers, especially whenever she changed up what or where she was tending to.“Yeah, this is really nice~” I cooed, which made it sound like I enjoyed it more than I’d like to admit. It felt so good though! Why had nopony ever told me there was a kind of TLC that could feel this good and wasn't sex? “-Of you” I added trying to amend the last little thing I said hoping it wasn't too late for her to get the wrong idea.

I couldn’t see it, but I heard it. “Oh, you just uncoil like a spring don’t you?” Fuck, she found my refined smug-ium stockpiles! I went to say something in my defense, but was met with another long pass of the comb along my mane. This time it didn't stop! She took it right past my mane and kept going through my coat along my spine. All the air I had taken in to defend myself left through my nose in an embarrassing little groan. My neck walked out on the job. My head flumped to the sheets sinking in a little. I didn’t even care that my glasses got a bit crooked. “Well that confirms a few theories of mine.” she mused. Swear I could feel her eyes looking me over.

“And those are?” I dreaded to ask, but she swapped to a proper brush and met any hint of my concern with a pass that made my neck and shoulders tingle more.

“Well for starters you’re absolutely adorable when mellowed out. Which wasn't hard by the way~” she teased, making my ears warm, but the stress was brushed out of me before it even began, leaving with another little groan. Huh, the brush had a hoof handle, the rubber half socket-looking thing keeping the brush on her hoof while she used it- aaaand she was using it again. Sweet Celestia that felt nice. “Second, is that your nose only bleeds when you get tense.” my ears perked, I thought it only bled when I was, erm… appreciating the pony form. “Yesterday you got a nosebleed just from staring at my ass in the bathroom. Today you’ve been in my room, used my shower, and have been in my bed for a good twenty minutes getting groomed into putty. Yet nothing~”

“Okay I think you might have a point,” I admitted going a little cross-eyed as I looked at the still-clean tissue just past my muzzle. If I’d been told all this was going to happen I’d have had to run to the bathroom again before dinner and bled out.

“And third-” she trailed meticulously inspecting my mane once more. I looked back and saw both a pleased Pickle and just how much neater, longer, and springy my mane looked. There was a small pile of mixed orange hair next to me from her combing. “Third, you're just a wee bit touch deprived aren't you?”

I sat up as the words sobered me up from the pleasant sensations a little. “Me? Touch deprived? Nooo couldn’t be. My dad pats my head whenever I say something profound. That counts!” I didn’t know if ‘touch deprived’ was a bad thing or not, but I was going to play it safe and wildly assume it had something to do with me being physically inexperienced.

“Uh-huh, it counts as much as breathing air counts as smelling flowers.” Her expression was flat as she took a moment to realign her selection of combs and brushes on the bed sheet. “It's just hard not to notice how fast combing your mane turned you into a puddle. I was afraid you were going to moan for a minute there.'' She added scooping all the excess hair into a neater pile before gingerly pushing it off the side of the bed into a little green (I knew it!) trash bin.

“I wasn’t going to moan.” I huffed burying my head back into the deep green bed sheets, once more eye level with the brushes and combs. Wow, my mane did feel different, I even felt it do a little bounce when the momentum passed through it.

“Hmm.” I could swear I heard a smirk somewhere in that hum and- Oh Celestia something had my ear! She was biting my ear! Giggling and biting my ear! Don’t you dare Pickle!

Then came that playful little tug “Oh f-fuck!~” escaped the moan from my muzzle. In my mind, it sounded a whole lot more like a proper protest when I gave my stamp of approval and handed it off to Brain. Somewhere between handing it off and the words being sent the intended tone of those two little words warped into something far more lurid and embarrassing. Both my forehooves shot to my muzzle, and my cheeks burned.

Pickle let go of my ear and did another one of her behind-the-hoof giggles. “What was that then?”

“N-nothing!” I squeaked, nearly hiding under my hooves. “Y-you just startled me, okay?!” this was bad, this was really bad.

“Told you before you’re a terrible liar, especially when flustered.” I heard the metallic shink of a pair of scissors next to me. “Now are you going to relax so I don't mess up snipping your split ends or am I going to abuse your flustered state to ask some super personal questions?” Oh, now that's just a special kind of mind fuckery I didn’t know Pickle-Jar was capable of. Pretty mare nips my ear and tells me to relax or else?!

“I am relaxed.” I whined peeking from under my hooves.

She sighed “Option two it is then~”

“But I just said I-”

“Nope, too late. Liars at the Salon-de-Pickle get punished. Should have read the fine print before you used my shower.” I looked over my shoulder as she sat the scissors aside. She wore the faint smirk of a mare who was torn between being disappointed and finding a new way to play with a toy to make up for it.

“That’s not fair at all, you locked me in there!” I protested.

“Says the mare who used all my shampoo.”

“But you told me too!”

“And made me pull a sweater's worth of dead hair out of her mane.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that…”

“And stares at my ass at every opportunity.”

“I can't help that, it's a great ass!” I said before hooves could dart back to my mouth again. Brain you traitor!

Some ponies say her smirk grew three sizes that day, which meant it was still small “See? You are capable of honesty. Now Imagine the things you could accomplish when you stop lying to yourself~” she leaned her head in raising fears my ear was in danger again. “Also thank you. I get my treadmill steps in.”

I looked back to catch her standing and placing a hoof between my shoulders. “Hey, what are you-?” I started just to get shushed.

“Shh~ My little liar’s punishment is only just starting.” Brain… Brain don’t you dare go there! Stay away from the blush button! She was only using a flirty tone! “I’m going to ask you some things. Some things you probably really don’t want to answer, but every time you lie to me... things are going to get a little less wholesome. Lie your cutie mark off and I’ll make sure even your dad hears you squeal. Got it?” Pickle was standing on the bed now, her hoof planted between my shoulders keeping me pinned to the bed, her carefully arranged tools scattered by the displacement.

Okay brain you can hit that button now! Hit all the buttons! “Y-yes!” I meeped nodding slowly, this was a new kind of fear, and I am VERY uncomfortable with how I felt about it.

“Good, now let's start off with something easy.” she made a faint hum in false pensiveness. “You're a virgin?”

Aw shit, she came out swinging. “I uhh… well technically I-” the pressure from her hoof grew a little more sinking me further into the sheets.

“Whips and chains Sketchy, Whips and chains,” Was all she said and my imagination ran wild. Brain was on Luna damned fire and the mini princesses finally showed up to try putting out the flames with little water buckets. Her talent is making pickles my ass! She's a mental arsonist and my mind an oil-soaked tinder box!

“Y-y-yess!!” I squeaked like the hoof had squeezed the answer out of me.

The pressure from her hoof let up a little and it felt like I could breathe again. “And despite your hobbies and interests, you're enough of a hopeless romantic to only want to lose it to a special somepony right? I could get us a pair of bucks right now if not.” I nodded slowly struggling to look back at her, what pony wouldn’t want that? There was nothing wrong with me wanting that one wholesome thing was there? “Uh-uh, say it out loud. Admit it to yourself.”

“Ffff… Yes, I want that.” I whined wanting to bury my face in the sheets. I dreaded the next question. What if they were intended to get harder!?

“Was I your first kiss?” Oh, thank Celestia an easier question.

“Yes. Very. Absolutely wonderful, eleven out of ten would beat up Tulip again. Great kisser! Thought I was gonna sprout wings and crash into the ceiling. Hit me harder than maint shine cut with paint thinner.” I may have answered with a little too earnestly if Pickle-Jar was the one flushing a little while she held me down. Say she has a great ass, nothing. Say she's a great kisser and that's what gets her? Maybe the half-salute was a bit much.

Pickle coughed “Ahem well, you don’t really have anything to compare that to so… next question!” I was doing pretty good, several questions in and she wasn't even doing anything lewd yet. This wasn't that bad! “Do you still feel guilty about making Tulip cry?”

Fuck meeee! I just had to think it was going well. “No, totally past it, I apologized profusely, invited her to dinner, and even talked out a compromise with her for when I h- Ahh~” I gasped faintly as the hoof pressed between my shoulders started traveling slowly down my spine, not stopping until she was at the base of my tail swishing against my will!

“Wrong answer. Keep lying to yourself and I might touch something indecent,” Pickle threatened. Wait a moment, that was exactly what I wanted! Why was every part of me fighting to stop it from happening?

Things between me and Tulip were perfectly chill now! Sure she wanted to beat me stupid just this morning, and I kinda bashed her face in and made her cry, aaaand invited her to my special ‘kicked Tulip’s ass’ dinner party, …and found out she had it as bad for Pickle-Jar as I did. I even passed up her last-minute trade to get bucked stupid by Bronze, but we were cool! Totally cool now! yep! nothing wrong with our situation at- “No… I feel like I was a total ass to her” I sighed as the horny caused by Pickle’s touch died as fast as it arrived. “I keep telling myself I didn’t know when I said those things, but it's not making me feel any better.”

Her hoof came off my lower back and soon the larger mare was laying right alongside me, her toasty warmth bleeding into my side. “It’s a perfectly understandable response. You’ve never wanted or tried to hurt anypony before. So when a perfect opportunity came along to destroy a mare who wronged you, you couldn't resist. Makes sense you wouldn’t know how to handle the guilt either.” Her tone moved from domineering to gentle and caring.

“Yeah, you weren't kidding about the emotional sledgehammer to the marehood…” I shivered. “I can’t unsee her going down like a sack of rocks. Or the crying… or me slapping the crap out of her to get her to stop crying. Sweet Celestia, she probably hates me even more now.” I wallowed, remembering the sadness in Tulip's eyes.

“She didn’t mention that part about you hitting her again,” she glared a little “or anything about you two having an ‘understanding’.”

I winced realizing how that deal might sound if said out loud. “We… agreed that since I was probably going to die tomorrow that it was perfectly fine for her to try for you once I was gone.” I tried to give my winning smile

Her glare tightened a bit more. “So not only have you written off your own life, but you just wanted to use me once before you go?”

It felt like she just dropped a boulder on me. “What?! Nonononono! Never! I said it was okay cause I didn’t want you hung up on me! I just..” I held my head in my hooves. “You’d still have her. You’d still have a mare that cared when I’m gone.”

She looked at me flatly with a pregnant pause. “Are you that afraid you're going to die?”

The tightness in my chest seized my heart at the question. I opened my mouth to answer, but the words didn’t come out. Not that I was so stunned I couldn't answer, more that I didn’t have an answer to give her. “I don’t know…” I rasped lamely. A familiar red warmth started running down from my nose, dripping to the pristine emerald sheets.

My neck was soon enveloped in soft warmth and sweet scents as the white mare next to me nuzzled right into my neck. “Are you. Afraid. To die?” she asked again. Slower, more deliberate.

My lip trembled and I whimpered “Y-yes…” Outside the stable was death, the void, the overmare would have saved time with a firing squad. Twenty-plus years of nothing more than being a recluse just to be snuffed out the instant I became inconvenient.

She didn’t stop nuzzling into my neck and cheek while she stayed next to me “So after admitting all that, do you still want your first with me of all mares? The first pony your age to give you a shred of kindness and your first kiss? Tulip would be hurt, sure, but what’s that in the face of death punching your number?” She got a hoof around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.

I hated to say it, something I thought I wanted most in life. “No… I-I can’t. I just can’t. It’s all too fast, the situation’s all wrong, I’d hurt Tulip, and- I’d have gotten my hooves on real flowers somehow, and- and actually asked you or Bronze out like a normal mare! Instead of creeping around hoping either of you, anypony would notice meee-” I sniffled “I’m a fucking creep and I’m going to dihihihieee!” I despaired, it just flowed as the dam broke. My vision grew blurry behind my glasses.

“Are you going to cry?” she whispered. Soft delicate words in my ear, the genuine concern in her voice is what made the first drops run down my cheek.

“N-No!” I choked, lip trembling. As more tears fell it all turned into a blur. Warm white hooves squeezed me tight.

“Do you need to?” Was probably the most profound question I'd been asked to date, and I was in no state to fully appreciate the gesture.

“Yes…” I whimpered, finally broken, nearly having to reach in and pull the admission out by hoof. I spent the rest of the night in Pickle’s sympathetic embrace sobbing into her sheets, her mane, and her neck. It was like I was curled up on the bathroom floor again, but instead of cold tiles, there were soft sheets and a caring mare holding me close like mom would have. Physical pain traded with emotional, blunted by the kindness of the one mare who understood me nearly as much as dad. I don’t know how long I spent venting like that before passing out.

Her voice echoed into my dreams. “You're not going to die Sketchy… Sketchy… Sketchy? You’re staring again.” I shook my head back to reality and I was still standing there with Pickle-Jar and Tulip in the stable entryway.

“Oh! How long was I-”

Pickle smiled faintly and preemptively answered “About twenty seconds or so. Remembering last night?”

I flushed a bit “Meeeybe…”

“Sweet Celestia do you two need like, another day!?” Tulip broke back into the conversation. “I get it. You two fucked, like mares in mega heat by the sounds of it. You don't gotta rub it in!” she huffed folding her hooves as she sat on her haunches.

You know I think I left the wild assumption window open too long. “Tulip Tulip, calm down. I didn't plow the dream mare here, nor she me. It was a really wholesome evening, really!” I admitted while Pickle nodded along.

“Buuuuullshit!” Tulip burst, calling me out on my nonexistent bullshitery. Both me and Pickle recoiled a little as Tulip pointed a hoof at me. “Tide-Washer said she saw Pickle-Jar this morning taking blood splotched sheets to the laundry room.” She started jabbing a hoof into my chest. “Don’t lie to me. You. Got. Popped.” Poking between each word for emphasis. Oww…

“Sketchy got a nosebleed Tulip. Gets them all the time, remember?” Pickle-jar tagged in gently pushing Tulips Hoof down with her own.

“A likely story…” Tulip squinted.

“She might lie about it to avoid hurting your feelings, but why would I lie about it?” Pickle questioned looking down at the upset pink mare.

Tulip raised her poking hoof at Pickle to answer “Because you!..” her hoof slowly fell, tongue going silent as she realized she was about to say something ugly to the only mare in the stable she didn’t want to. She looked between me and Pickle a few more times biting her lip before sighing in defeat. “Fine, whatever, you didn’t bang, who cares?” she pouted, folding her hooves again. “Cause I don't.”

“Says the mare who nearly split her bit at the idea that we might have,” toyed Pickle making poor Tulip burn darker pink.

“Then what did you two do?” She questioned, eyebrow raised.

“Let’s see.” I started counting off on my hoof. “Got a hot shower, got my mane combed for the first time in ages,” I needed more hooves… “Some therapy, and got about ten hours of sleep!”

“And as your armchair therapist, I’d like to think we made a lot of progress last night. Three more sessions and I dare say I could make you a pillar of stable society. Want to make another appointment with Doctor Pickle-Jar for when you get back?” Pickle certainly sounded proud of herself.

“Therapy?” Tulip tilted her head. “The stable has a fucking therapist? Really? The mark on her ass doesn’t look like a brain or a chaise longue.” She still didn’t believe us. How did she know the exact name of a therapist's couch though? How did I? Ehh who cares, she was using big words fancier than cunnilingus for once so… Progress!

“Yep, Pickle-jar has hobbies other than making pickles. Thought you of all mares might know that already.” Oh, it felt good to be on top of a conversation for once! She looked like I hit her again, but one brief glance as the big white mare next to her gave away how badly she didn't want to spill her heart beans to Pickle yet, clearly unaware of how the mare already knew. “Trust me~ She’s really good at picking apart ponies’ problems and talking said ponies through em’ too,” I added my winning smile.

Pickle scooted in a little closer to Tulip. “And you’re going to be my new patient while Sketchy is off fixing the array. She said there was something you really wanted to tell me? Somepony you couldn’t get your mind off of?” she leaned in with that little smirk. So this was what it was like to tag-team tease a mare that deserved it. Yep, going to hell~

Tulip was burning under her muzzle bandages. Her head slowly turned to look at me while still facing Pickle-jar and slowly mouthed the words. “You bitch…”

“That’s for putting my hoof in the water bowl Tulip! And for telling everypony in 4th grade I was a bedwetter!” Finally, I got the last laugh! Oh, the gratification of petty vengeance felt better than when I found that wing-boner mag stashed in a vent.

She immediately looked back to Pickle-Jar. “Y-you told her?!”

“Well, you certainly weren't going to. Seemed only fair after, you know, making her wet her sleeping bag at my Cute-ceañera.” Go Pickle-Jar go! “Should I mention how you cheated off her homework for years as well? What about when you ‘accidentally’ tripped her into the punch bowl on prom night right before she was going to walk up to me?” She… Oh, Heeeeell NO!!

“Oh, that reminds me!” I stepped closer, riding my confidence/petty vengeance high as far as it would take me. “You didn’t blow Bronze last night did you?” I asked with the straightest face I've ever managed with such a topic. Spirit of petty vengeance, take me…

“What?! No! Dad wouldn’t let him near our place, why?” she asked, sounding as shockingly confused as she looked.

“Brush your teeth?”

“Yeah, this morning… but seriously why?” she asked, really wearing the confusion. Less shocked, though.

“Good~” I noted with a dumb little smile before I took a figurative leap, and grabbed Pickle’s head between my hooves, planting the deepest kiss I could manage. Deep enough we both had to breathe through our noses, certainly earning some cheers and whistles from the other ponies nearby witnessing the display. I broke the kiss with a pant, freeing a faintly flushed and shocked Pickle-jar from my hooves. Up next was a very jaw-dropped tulip. I trotted right up to the bewildered mare locking eyes with her. “Tell me how she tastes Tulip~ You've always wanted to know.” She didn’t have time to react before I was standing on my hinds and tilting her all the way back just like the cover of that ‘Dirty-Prancing’ magazine Miss Appleboom had framed. Locking Tulip into a kiss as deep as the one I just gave Pickle, tongue and all. She was too stunned to fight it, her muzzle bandages smoldering with how much louder the whistles and cheers got around us. Huh, she tastes like healing potion cherry~ Oh princesses did I just see her hinds quiver?! They're curling! Eeheheheee! Priceless!!

“Woo! You get em’ sweetie!” came one of the cheers from a very familiar pair of older bucks off in the crowd.

Our kiss came apart and I think Tulip was about to pass out if it weren't for both of us spotting the origin of the cheers. Tulip’s dad and Father Thumper, both smiling sheepishly. “Daaad!!” We both yelled in unison, her head still in my hooves… till I dropped Tulip on her ass to point a hoof at dad. They were TOO supportive!

“Ahem!!” boomed from the one speaker next to the podium currently manned by a perturbed-looking Blueburst. “Since it seems goodbyes have been very thoroughly made, let's get this show on the road my little ponies.” she clapped two of her hooves together. “Chop chop~”

I turned back to the two mares before me smiling. “Later guys. Looking forward to hearing about all the breakthroughs you two make when I get back.” I turned trotting over to the rusted catwalk that led up to the doors. Tulip fell on her ass without me holding her up and Pickle giggled at the flustered-to-hell pink mare. I gave dad a wave all the way in the back. He waved too~

“Alright Sketchy, let's keep this short, sweet, and simple. You have volunteered to go to the surface on behalf of everypony in stable 83, for which we are all incredibly grateful. You have been amply supplied and your tasks are simple yet perilous.” She started and fortunately it didn't sound like she was going for a full-blown speech. Not enough passion, just the lipservice needed to maintain the facade of benevolence.

I shifted a bit in place, reminded of the weight of all the gear I had been given. From my new tome, to the food, to the radiation drugs, and the other meds. The stable-83 suit was as protected as I was going to get so the baggies of radaway might be going fast once I'm out there. Still, I nodded along with everything she said.

“Your task is to brave the surface of Equestria, find the sensor array, and attempt to repair it so we can get accurate readings of the surface. If the array turns out to be completely fubar you’re to engage in your secondary task. Document everything. That book holds a vast majority of the stable’s remaining paper supply and has been given to you for this very purpose. There are just some forms of data that can’t be easily recorded on a PipBuck after all. So record anything and everything the stable needs to know about life beyond this door.” She flipped a page on her mobile podium and gave it a little skim. “Environmental data is paramount, things such as plant life, air quality, weather stability, and especially magical radiation levels are to be recorded. Outside that, though an accurate accounting of the current state of Equestria, the other stables, resources, and, because it’s technically possible, survivors if you find any. Do you understand and accept this mission?”

I gazed at the massive stable door for a moment of hesitation “I do.” Celestia did those words feel heavy, they should only ever feel that heavy if there’s a cute buck or mare next to me before the altar, or if I was in medical for something tragic. Still, I needed to ride this blaze of confidence I got from last night all the way out that door. Gotta be stalwart, brave, and uhh… Heroic? Yeah, heroic!

“Excellent” she clapped her hooves once. “Since the systems say the terminal on the outside is no longer functional, another method for your return has been devised.” Wait, getting back wasn't going to be as easy as getting out?! “When you are ready to return to the stable, come to the door at noon on the first day of every month. We will open the door for no more than ten minutes, miss it and you’ll have to survive for another month out there. If you do not return to us within a year we will be left to assume the surface is completely inhospitable and has claimed your life. Is this understood?”

I nodded slowly and watched the overmare begin to fiddle with her own pipbuck running a little cable from it into the door console. “Perfect, your task is set, your objectives clear. We pray that you walk with the blessings of the goddesses and the hopes of all stable 83.” She didn’t even look at me while she spoke. Her level eyes could chip any mare's ego. Several taps of her pipbuck later ancient alarms and spinning yellow lights came to life after centuries of neglect. I, like several other ponies, had to hold my ears. Dust, rust, and paint chips fell in small streams all around the room, especially from the door mechanism. Metal ground and squealed as the massive gear of a door pulled from the wall, sparks flying from the seams until it was all the way out. There was a hiss, and I could feel my ears pop as the air pressure shifted and unfamiliar scents assaulted my nose. The closest I could compare it to was the reek of old machinery mixed with the smell of a musky abandoned mineshaft. There were murmurs from the small crowd while the mini princesses in my mind manifested at the bottom of the giant gear to start pushing at the bottom of it, like their tiny bodies were strong enough to make it roll along the tracks, which it did. The stable door creaked and rolled out of the way revealing the inky void that lay beyond, only the light bleeding out from the entry room gave hints as to the rocky walls that further away.

The rusted catwalk gave its own little squeal as it extended all the way out past the rim of the door. Shaking off a few more streams of granular brown when it finally stopped. I gulped, my heart sinking as I gazed into the void beyond, I felt like I was going to be sick. The smell rolling in from beyond the door somehow made the air writhe with the faint essence of perpetual decay. My neck ached as I looked back at all the ponies gathered behind me. My chest seized as behind me was a rusted-out stable, dark and littered with broken bones bound only in tattered stable suits. When I finally blinked all was as it were, all the ponies I had ever known, the light, and the only home I had ever known. I saw dad, Tulip, Pickle-jar, Bronze, and even what seemed like the ghost of Miss Appleboom smiling behind him and waving me off. All of them were waving me off with concerned smiles, especially dad. I took a deep breath no matter how wrong the air smelled, waved back, and finally spoke up. “I’m not gonna die! I’ll be back soon guys!” they applauded as I turned towards the open door. The first step was all needed to get moving and by Luna’s glorious ass, my hooves were heavier than the stable door. Not gonna die, I’m not going… to die. One hoof and then the other. One hoof… and then the other.

“Tell us all about it when you get back Sketchy!” called Bronze of all bucks making me look back again to see not only everypony still waving, but also that titanic gear of a door rolling closed behind me. When did I get past the door?! I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but by the time the first breath came out the door sealed behind me.

“Fuck…” It wasn’t dark, dark didn't feel solid in all directions threatening to crush you into the void of oblivion. This was… advanced darkness. I was alone, a pair of white eyes floating in the vacuum of all things, all-consuming, all present, surrounded by grinning demons and inky gods… I should really write a book. A single unfamiliar tick from my pipbuck brought my attention down to the device. Oh right, this thing has a flashlight! I fiddled around in the dark for a moment to find the button I couldn't see and with a little click the cone of white light came on.

I didn’t know what to expect, but no part of me could have prepared for mental scar number one. I was in what looked like one of our mine shafts… surrounded by bones. Broken, pale, shattered bones of countless ponies, I don't think I could move my hooves without stepping on one. Some were whole, most weren't, and even fewer had the wispy remains of clothes hanging off them. Skulls, so many skulls, so many dead ponies. I back-stepped from the closest only to step a rear hoof into another skull that crumbled to dust. The crack echoed throughout the tunnel as that one dead pony's last cry into the world of the living. I nearly screamed, but it caught in my throat. In the cone of my PipLight, most of the whole bodies were slumped around what looked like the rusted remains of a rock breaker. Another pile gathered around what I could only assume were the remains of the exterior terminal. Panels removed, wires ripped out, and a full-blown fire-axe embedded right through the only screen. It looked exactly like the one hanging in the security office, but dustier, ‘Stable-Tec’ still engraved on the head. Just a little further was the door, the massive 83 on it marred in the center where about three inches of metal had been carved out of the massive gear.

I blinked and for a second the tunnel was fully lit, like any other mineshaft, I was surrounded by bucks and mares of all shapes and sizes, screaming, crying, and pleading. One earth-buck by the terminal screaming “Let us in you ministry bastards!!” with tears running down his face from bloodshot eyes like all the others. Standing on his hinds he swung away at the terminal with the fire axe clasped in his forehooves. Sparks flew from the terminal while a mix of six earth ponies and unicorns held the drill of the frame-mounted rock breaker to the stable door. One by one the ponies around me were collapsing, vomiting, and bleeding from the eyes as they tried in vain to break the stable door. The foals went first…

Another tick came from my pipbuck hitting me upside the horn with curiosity strong enough to snap me back to the dark bone-filled room. “Wha-... what happened to them?” I looked to my pipbuck and at the bottom left of the screen. ‘Rads: 0002/1000’ Oh… Oh, Celestia, they cooked out here. Magical radiation, Arcane radiation, or rads as some called them. I remembered the little field trip we had to the reactor room when Miss Appleboom explained the topic. It was like a small storm of wild atom-sized spells shooting off in every direction at random. A few were harmless, but each one bore a tiny unknown effect to the individual on a cellular level. A pony’s body can fix the damage sure but too much and you're boned. Diarrhea, vomiting, hair loss, internal bleeding, exhaustion, absences, cancers, and eventually death. The same effect that makes the microwaves in the cafe heat a canned taco also killed all these ponies. I wanted to be sick, these ponies got cooked alive from the inside out, but if my pipbuck was ticking… that meant these magically charged atoms were zipping right through me too.

No hesitation was given as I dove into the medical tab of my inventory and yoinked out the bottle of Rad-Safe I got from the doctors. The lid wouldn’t come off, I pulled and twisted, hit it on a rock. I nearly ripped the lid off the bottle with how hard I was pulling with my magic, hooves, and teeth. Oh wait, there was something written on the lid. “Foal-proof… squeeze then twist.” I groaned as the tiny princesses, now wearing little mining helmets, were pointing and laughing at me. Once I popped it off I found… fluff. In the bottle was a bunch of packing cotton and a singular nut-sized pill. Who in Tartarus uses a whole bottle for just one pill!? I read the back of the bottle. Bunch of chemicals I can’t pronounce, side effects, keep out of reach of children… ah here it is! Doses!... one. This wasn’t me getting robbed by the stable, this was an intentional design choice?! What was the pill gonna do? Explode if I shook it too hard?! I ate it anyway and yeeted the bottle into the darkness with a little clatter.

Silence, silence in all but the ever-distant whisper of moving air. No more than ten feet from me Blueburst was probably packing up her mobile podium and getting ready to go yell at a buck that broke one of her speakers, yet… I was alone. Dad was only thirty feet away and yet with the door closed the stable may as well be on the moon. “Okay… I’ll be back, the door will open, just gotta find and fix the sensors.”

All I had to do was carefully tippy-hoof over the bones and try not to think about how they all died screaming in agony as they cooked from the inside out holding their loved ones. I also had to try not to throw up cause I just thought about it. Unfortunately, the little cone of light I had to work with wasn’t exactly making it easy to find a ‘this way out idiot’ sign hanging anywhere. What I did notice didn’t require the light at all, Little green markers started appearing all along the top of my vision, dozens of em, all moving around randomly. I think I played with the feature before after I got the programming on my Pipbuck cracked. Eyes-Forward-Sparkle or EFS for short; some weird combination of spells and programming that tells you the general direction and intention of ponies around you. It had to be broken. I was completely alone. There was no way several dozen ponies could be walking all around me without making a sound. That or I was going crazy faster than I ever knew possible.

Then came the last thing I ever wanted to hear: Sound. More specifically, the sound of a distant chitter. Looking with my light in the direction the noise echoed from was a tunnel with a slight upward slope. I swore I saw something glowing a faint green disappear further into the void beyond. My mane wanted to stand on end while I looked around at all the green markers around me in the darkness, they started moving in the same direction as the noise too, but whenever I turned my light to where I thought the markers were, nopony was there.

Well, whatever these were clearly known where they were going. “Guess I’ll just… follow you guys,” and I started walking, gingerly stepping over the bones of the long-dead ponies around me.

It was like being in one of the stable mine shafts with all the lights off and no air circulation. The bones grew less frequent and any time I came to an intersection where tunnels met I'd hear another chitter, briefly see a green glow in the distance, and all the green markers around me would move towards it. Repeat the process about half a dozen times and the slope got steeper. I saw the glow one last time rounding a corner before all the green markers dispersed and I saw a great white light far far away. I heard more than just chitters, I heard air moving, and even felt it a little. The creak of wood was like sitting in one of dad’s pews, just louder. “Don’t go towards the light they said, it's a cliche they said, this play is dumb I said.” I grumbled remembering the age-old phrase as I did exactly that. ‘Okay, either I’m about to die horribly, or I’m going to be the first pony to step in Celestia’s blessed sunlight in centuries…” I bit my lip “Please be the latter.”

It was bright, obscenely bright. Like shafts of solid light beaming between what I could only guess were boards. Flashlight rendered useless as the presence of these beams completely shot my adjusted vision. It was just me, this… door?, the light, and the solid oblivion behind me. I hesitantly reached a hoof forward to one of those shafts of light half expecting it to burn me, but to my surprise, was merely warm. I stepped closer. I couldn’t see between the boards, and it made my eyes hurt to try. Squinting them nearly closed I reached a hoof further and touched the slanted wood. I pushed and with a great creak, the wooden barrier parted in two washing me in the brightness. I couldn’t see, but I could still hear and feel. The air moved around me with no rhyme or reason blowing into my coat… wind? Wild ventless wind? I pushed more now with both hooves, making my way through. The door became weightless and fell away with a clatter, the silence of wind returning once more. I felt that warmth all over my body, but more like it was coming from above. Trying to open my eyes hurt, like my pupils couldn't constrict hard enough.

The blinding white faded as my eyes adjusted like they had never adjusted before, so much so that they ached. Soon I made out colors, then shapes, and after looked up wondering what lamp was making such an intense light. I saw blue and fluffy white. Solid colors that were infinitely far away. The shapes around me slowly grained detail and everything was so… open. My eyes hurt and my head started to swim. It was TOO open, where was the roof? The top, the walls, the- my stomach decided it wanted to run back to the stable. I collapsed to the ground spewing all over the rocks, sand, and whatever this brown crunchy stuff was. “Nohohohohoo..I just ate all of you!” I justifiably whined as last night’s canned tacos escaped to the Equis-firma below. “F-fuck me this is awfuhuhuhull!”I cried, my glasses falling off somehow helped prevent my eyes from contributing to the ‘make sketchy vomit’ fund. A blurry world was better than an infinite one for now.

By the time I was done nearly ejecting my soul, coughing a storm, and going for a swim in my own head I had nothing left to give. I laid there a few moments more just to be safe before I dared to hover my glasses back on. The nausea returned, but nowhere near as bad as when it first hit. I rolled from the fetal position onto my back and sprawled out. “Can I go back inside yet?...” I panted to nopony in particular.

There it was though, just like in the books. The wide blue sky, dotted with its little white clouds, and at the peak of it all, the manifestation of Celestia herself on Equis, the sun. “Do you finally see me Celestia? Cause you’re fucking blinding me…” I wheezed.

I turned to the crunchy substance my left hoof was touching next. Withered, brown, small, and skinny… I think I was touching grass? Probably dead grass. Some small part of me, the instinctual pony part, used a little telekinesis to pluck some of the brown plants from the ground and hesitantly put it in my mouth. I spat it out instantly. “Yeah, that's dead! That's very dead grass, ack! It's deader than all those ponies! Uck~” I did everything I could to get all of it off my tongue, which included standing up just so I could spit the stuff out without getting it all over myself.

Finally looking around though I had to start recalling all the things Miss Appleboom taught us in surface class. That was grass, those were… very dead-looking trees? Ferns? No definitely dead trees. That's the sun, that's a cloud, and the sky. Holy horse apples it felt like I was taking a quiz in her class again. “Celestia don’t look at me while I’m thinking this hard!” I yelled pointing a hoof up at the sun for a moment before getting back to my surroundings. Behind me, above the door I just opened was a hill? Mountain? It was huge, but mountains were supposed to have white on top from natural fridge ice right? Opposite was a wide open space, with lots of grass and few trees… a field! And those square things. Those were definitely buildings of some kind. I believe the verse was ‘the princesses didn’t paint the world with straight lines’ thus it was clearly made by pony hooves. So that long gray strip of broken rocks that passed behind those buildings was a… bridge? No, there was no water under it. Apartment? No… road? It's a road! Because it has those rusty rectangle things scattered all over it. Autowagons! ...or carriages. Was there a difference?

“Okay, So the stable is in a mine, at the base of a mountain hill thingy, with a field and a building between it and a road. Got my landmarks, now I just gotta find the array!” My quest began! Hoof up in the air, heroic pose, it was going to be epic- my PipBuck beeped. Well, that ruined the moment. I dropped to my haunches and looked down at the screen. ‘Local uplink established: Updating. Please Wait…’ I blinked. “Uplink? Uplink to what?!” Ping~ It finished, never intending to give me my answers. The map program opened to a map of Equestria, about as vaguely detailed as the ones in the textbooks. There were only four markers that came up, Old mountain, Stable 83, Pie Family rock farm, and Route 10. “Hold up now I have questions!” The map moved and a fifth grayed-out icon appeared on the other side of Old Mountain labeled ‘Stable Sensor array’. “That just raises even more questions! How the Hell do you even know that?!” I waved a hoof in the air like the device was actually listening to me be upset. Once again it jumped to the logbook tab where it said ‘objective updated: Find the 83 sensor array’. I paused “I didn’t even type that in yet…” then I threw both my hooves in the air “I give up! You’re too magical for me to care anymore! Lead the way oh mighty PipBuck! Yee wise and all-knowing smartass mobile terminal!” Another beep and a larger green marker appeared in the EFS along the top of my vision, a square with a little peg on the bottom. “Damn you're sassy…”

I looked around once more “Well, I can’t walk through the mountain.” I tapped my hoof to my chin looking down to the road and half-collapsed buildings at the edge of the field. “The map says the road goes around the mountain. Guess I should just follow it.” I looked down to see the two mini princesses hopping in place with beaming smiles and pointing hooves at the ruined buildings. “What? You two think somepony’s home?” They shrugged and kept pointing. “Fine I’ll check, just keep your horseshoes on, not like anypony is alive up here.” With a gentle breeze in my mane, and Celestia high in the sky I began walking down to the remains of the rock farm. Who knows, maybe there was some schist to take.

Level Up!
Perk Unlocked: Wasteland Whisperer!

Through kindness, understanding, or chance you have earned the love, respect, and/or loyalty of a small piece of the less-than-natural world. Choose one lesser creature of the wasteland such as radroaches, bloat sprites, pigeons (GM discretion). The disposition of this species is now one tier higher for you and will only attack if attacked first. Friendly ones may on occasion assist you in ways that make you question their sentience.

Choose a creature: Radroach.