Fallout: Equestria - The Lunar Archives

Fallout Equestria: The Lunar Archives
(By: Lakeel)
Chapter 4: Can’t we be friends?

From the outside, the house looked like a stiff breeze could knock it over. Most of the windows were broken, a lot of the plaster stuff was cracked or outright chipped off, and I guess somepony thought it was a good idea to make the roof out of dead grass. Whoever thought using such a flimsy material was a good idea clearly didn’t grasp the concept of long-term maintenance. Far as I could tell, much like the roof, everything around me was in tatters or dead. I looked around to see if anypony was going to miraculously appear in this wide open field, but no, just me, the breeze, and this dilapidated farmhouse.

I hesitantly rose a hoof and knocked praying to Luna’s ebony horn that nopony was home. I don’t know what I’d do if somepony answered the door. Was it alright to just go in if the owner’s been dead for two hundred years? “Anyone Home?” I called, glancing around and waiting for the universe to respond. Moments became seconds, seconds became a minute, and my patience became zilch. “O-Kay then… as your stable neighbor I’m asserting myself by coming in anyways,” I added to the lack of response slowly reaching for the door knob. “Please don’t be full of bones, please don’t be full of bones,” I whined, creaking the door open.

Oh goodie, mental scar number two! How fondly I shall remember thee in my dreams from now on. A room of nothing but creepy ass pink posters staring at me has certainly earned a spot in my mind. Right between the bones outside my stable and the empty one reserved for walking in on my parents would be perfect for it.

The horror show that lay before me, though… “What… the… fuck.” I mouthed as everything but the rotting remains of shattered mildewing furniture were covered in pink. Not just pink, I could handle pink, pink didn’t stare back at you with wide beady eyes boring into you. This room was wallpapered in faded posters of some pink earth-mare. The images of the mare in her 20s to I’d guess her early 40s were everywhere though. The floor creaking with every step I took only made the place go from 7 to 8 on the creep-o-meter. Jumping straight to 9 once I got close enough to read the posters with the writing still intact. ‘Pinkie Pie is watching you FOREVER!’

I’d been up here for all of what, ten minutes? and I’d found some weirdo ponies’ obsession with the saint of joy. I know I'm not the most pious mare, but whoever put all these up is doing some Luna levels of compensating. “Okay, spamming posters of Saint Pinkie is one thing, but if I find funky runes and circles on the ground I'm gonna burn this shack down,” I mumbled out loud, lowering my head as I walked through the house. This was like a sick and twisted version of my room with posters instead of tastefully flank drawn everywhere. The only part that didn’t come off as a complete creep show was ‘The Ministry of Morale’ marked on some of the posters. “Oh yeah, history class… each of the bearers of harmony was tasked with leading parts of Equestria, right? But who names a territory Morale? Weren't the nobles in charge of the lands? Ughh…” I groaned, falling forward a bit just so I could rub my temples with my hooves. “Cmoon, I got a B in pre-stable history. I mean sure there were no textbooks, but Mr. Zamena couldn’t have been pulling it all out of his ass.” Great, now I gotta find a history book out here so I can call him out on his shit.

The odds of me finding one here though… The door behind me made a longer creak and the hinge holding the upper half to the frame came out letting the door fall sideways with a clatter and kick of dust. They weren't very high.

“This place is gonna give me a sinus infection…” I sniffed trying to bat the dust cloud away with a hoof as I felt my nose start to run. The dust caught in the beams of sunlight pouring through the cracked walls and broken windows made me want to cough harder on principle. This wasn’t a ‘where’s the mold’ situation, this was an ‘everything is mold’ situation that made my inner janitor itch.

Among the decayed and broken furniture though I spotted the remains of a bookshelf. Jackpot! “Sweet princesses, actual books!” I trotted over, knocked a plank aside, and wrapped the faded brown book on top in my telekinesis. I need to be super delicate with it cause paper doesn't-... It crumbled. The old binding coming apart in my magical grip, the pages spilling out all over the floor, more in moldy fused clumps than clean individual sheets. “Eww… Please no… No no no!” I whined picking up book after book.

Every single book I pulled from the pile was ruined. Most rotted through with mold, some crumbled to dust, and one was even burnt somehow. Even one in decent enough condition to read the cover ‘Rock Encyclopedia 1017ce’ slid off its contents like the skin of a rotting apple. Luna damn it, if even a single one of those books had been intact I could’ve become the richest mare in 83. I coughed into my sleeve, it was probably a bad idea to be breathing any of this junk in.

The rest of the first floor was more of the same; walls plastered with ancient posters of Saint Pinkie, decayed remains of furniture, broken glass, and creaking floors. What I assumed to be the kitchen was the last to check on this floor. It wasn’t much better. A table with a set of surprisingly unbroken chairs, empty cans scattered around, and the appliances were… gutted, to say the least. The fridge door hung wide open bereft of contents just like most of the cabinet doors.

I looked out the missing panes of the window just above the kitchen sink, still only gently waving grass. “Hmm…” the silence was deafening. I looked to the door separating what is assumed was the living room from the kitchen. Nothing… not a soul, nopony to complain. This was somepony’s house though.

“C'mon Sketchy, everypony out here is dead. Not a soul in sight to accuse you of stealing… And now I’m talking to myself, Lovely.” I looked at the kitchen counters once more, and the tiny princesses were back. A little Celestia stood on her little hind hooves while a miniature Luna stood on her sister's shoulders. The two teetered back and forth struggling to reach a pantry door. “But you two can fly…” I heard myself and facehoofed. “Aaaaand now I’m talking to the figments of my imagination. Pickle’s going to think I’m nuts.” I sighed, trotting over the cabinets to open them one after another.

“Look guys, they’re all going to be empty. See? Empty… empty… empt- AHH!!!” I screamed, admittedly like a filly, when a flurry of brown the size of a hoofball flew right at my face! I jumped back falling on my rear, flailing and screaming until I saw the creature. It tucked its wings back revealing it was just a radroach! It fled from the room fast as its tiny legs could carry it, chittering and skittering off to anywhere that was as far away from me.

On the bright side, I’m not the only living thing on the surface! On the downside, the heart attack I nearly had would have made the roach the only living thing! The tiny princesses looked down at me from the kitchen counter, hooves to their mouths barely stifling their silent giggles at the mare that nearly pissed herself. “It's not funny!” I pointed a hoof at the two, panting as my heart was still racing a bit. In the defense of my imaginary princesses, if it had been anypony but me I’d be pointing and laughing my ass off too. But this was my double standard damn it and I was going to be mad at them!

“There better be something in that cabinet or you two are getting the lead paint treatment alongside Brain.” I glared at the two who proceeded to fly off silently giggling and out of my vision. With the previous occupant gone, I went back to the cabinet and hesitantly peered over the edge. “Anyone else home? ...please be no.” This cabinet was empty too aside from several hollow cans and a little blue box in the back. My horn glow lit the cabinet's interior as I hovered out the box. It was a cookie tin wrapped in duct tape if the scratched-up pictures were anything to go by. “Ohh cookies!” I was five seconds away from ripping it open on the spot when I saw something written on the tape itself. “Grocery funds…” I read aloud and shook the box a little hearing it rattle. “That sounds like a lot of bits… I’m rich!” I got excited again. Ancient currencies have been priceless collectibles for as long as money has ever existed! Even Pickle had a century-old meal ticket framed in her room.

I placed the box on the table, I wanted to get my hooves on it personally. A one, a two, and a strong pull ripped the tape and removed the lid revealing… bottle caps? “Where… where are the bits?!” I tumped out the container on the table letting dozens if not a hundred or two of the bottlecaps spill onto the table. I used my telekinesis to sift through them, but not a single bit in sight, just a crapton of sparkle cola bottle caps. This was getting as infuriating as de-rusting the maintenance tunnels. “I’ve never been.. so close.. to murder.” First I find a standing building, and the universe gives me creepy posters. Then I find a pile of books, and the universe gives me enough mold to kill an asthmatic. I find a box of potentially two-hundred-year-old currency… and the universe gives me fucking bottle caps?!

Relax, Sketchy. It was just a cookie tin full of bottle caps. Take a deep breath and-

“Nyeehh!!” I yeeted the empty tin out the broken window above the sink, adding one more missing pane to the other five. I felt… slightly better. If anypony cared about the window being slightly more broken than before they weren't around to care.

I went upstairs, the creaking beneath my hooves getting louder confirming my suspicion that the building was as done with existence as I was with it. The foul smells of mildew, mold, and wherever else called this place home swirled like soup. I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for broken windows. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if it wasn't getting aired out.

Just gotta check these rooms along this hallway and- I froze… that’s… That’s a body. I gasped, stepping back from the first room until my rear bumped into the hallway wall. I held the sleeve of my stable suit up to my mouth as the realization of that potent smell went straight to my throat. I wanted to be sick, gagging at minimum, but I'd already emptied last night's dinner on the grass when I first saw the sky. “Uck, Sweet Goddesses why?…”

The room appeared to have been an office at some point. Somepony was slumped up against the drawers of the desk, a forehoof reaching out for the dust-covered terminal still emitting its sickly green light. He, at least I assumed it was a he, had a MOP medical kit next to him, its supplies scattered about among the rest of the mess that covered the floor. Once the gagging died down I stepped a bit closer, was he... were those wings? Whoever this buck had been he’s been here a while. The ones outside my stable had been all bones after two hundred years. This guy when I looked around the crushed metal plates and tattered fabric still had flesh, dry as it was. I couldn’t look at his face, one glance was enough to make me gag again. Flesh and exposed bone were a big nope for me.

“Don’t look at his face Sketchy otherwise you're gonna-” I felt a heave in my chest and barely managed to force it down. He had wings! Focus on his wings! This guy was a pegasus, never thought I’d see one in my lifetime, or think this would be my first time seeing one either. He was clad in pieces of crunched-looking black metal and the only metal on him that wasn't black was the twisted sliver jutting out his side surrounded by splotched dry rotted bandages. Ohhhh… that's what killed him. I winced a bit, barely able to imagine how bad that must have hurt.

There wasn't much else in the room aside from the body, the terminal, a mattress over in the corner, and some shelves. Near the shelves though... “Is that-? It can't be. The universe has gotten my hopes up too many times today.” I gingerly tippy-hooved around the body as upon the wall behind a pane of dirty glass was the dream goal of any 83 dweller. Mounted there was a rock collection, but not just any rock collection, a complete rock collection! “Yes, yes, yes! I'm gonna be rich!! Hahaaa!” I squeed prancing in place as my horn glowed to lift the case from the nails hung on. Only three complete sets existed in the whole stable, and this would make a fourth! Igneous, sedimentary, metamorphic, It had samples of them all. Quarts, granite, shale, diorite, even obsidian! “Eheheheheee!” I squeed harder. “You’re mine! All mine! All those ponies back in the stable were suckers for not coming out here! Kiss my ass Ice-Pick! Your show-and-tell rock collection ain’t shit now! Hahaaa!!” I boasted to the universe hoping Ice-Pick felt his status as the stables number one rock collector being threatened. Oh yeah… I’m so gonna rub this in everypony's face.

By the power of my pip-buck’s inventory management spell, I slid the case of assorted stones into my right saddlebag since the left was taken up by my book. The collection added a fair bit of weight to my load, but they were so going to be worth it.

With the collection off the wall, my eyes were drawn to the near perfectly preserved wallpaper behind it, reminding me just how dirty this place was. If I didn't have asthma coming in here I’d have it when I left… That is how asthma works right?

I turned, ready to leave the room and the dead pegasus behind to rest in peace when I noted the terminal. Over two centuries and it’s still running. The fact that there was no mold on the keyboard might have said something about the long-term effects of screen light exposure, but I didn’t care. Making sure not to get too close or disturb whoever this was laying here, I booped the enter key.

Oh, the agony of choice. The earth pony in me wanted to type with my hooves, but the unicorn in me knew typing with my TK spell was a whole lot faster. This choice would be easy if Dad had just been a unicorn or Mom an earth-mare. “Files… files… files… “ I kept tapping the down key with my hoof, I didn't need my horn for something that simple. In the face of crippling indecisiveness, Compromise!

A majority of the entries on here were either corrupted or sales figures belonging to a Mr… I squinted. “Mr. Igneous Rock Pie… huh.. must be related to Saint Pinky or something.” I mumbled out loud. Every file was a spreadsheet of monthly expenditures and profits, twenty years worth. The first one only listing ‘terminal, 4500 bits.’ and the most recent one goes all the way down to the exact bit cost of a plank that fell off a fence, 20 bits. The very last file was plain text with an odd timestamp, that according to my pipbuck was about a month ago. This year, not two hundred… One wack of the enter key and the file was opened before my eyes.

‘This is private Cloudy Skies (no not that one) of the G.P.E Raptor Fog-Bank engineering team reporting. I hate to say it, but the Fog-Bank is completely fubar and I’m laying here with a piece of it embedded in my kidney… spleen? I submitted multiple reports that the vessel has been limping the miracle mile for the past nine months and they were ignored. The makeshift repairs from the conflict with the Lightbringer weren’t meant to be long-term solutions. So now after two centuries of valiant service, the Fog-Bank is now crashed into the side of some mountain, most of my team is dead, and I'm dying of a very spicy infection. I can't pull the scrap metal out myself, so the healing potions can't do shit to save me. I crawled all the way to this creepy ass house and didn’t see a single scout looking for me after we abandoned ship. Even then I’m so far in the middle of Buttfuckistan nowhere that not even the savages the training vids talked about have come to eat me. I don’t care if this report gets me court-martialed cause I'm probably dead by the time anypony reads it. Captain Washout can choke on her commander's dick and the high council can go pluck themselves.

This is private Cloudy Skies Signing off. Peace~
P.S.: I found several unopened cans of baked beans in here. Sweet Celestia surface food tastes so good.’

I blinked looking between the dried-out body of the pegasus and his final words on the screen. This raised so many goddess-damned questions it was making my head spin. Who are the G.P.E? What's a raptor? Who’s the Lightbringer and why were these ponies fighting them? This was all less than a year ago?! Ahhhh!! I held my head. “Why aren't you alive to answer all these questions for me?!” I questioned the corpse of Cloudy-Skies next to me.

After a long period of silence looking at his desiccated face, jaw bone slack, eventually broken by a small radroach crawling out of what remained of the buck's throat. Skittering out the door, chittering like the previous one. I… I just… My stomach lurched and I ran to the nearest window trying to force it open as quickly as possible. With a crack, slam, and the shattering of two of the smaller panes the window slid up. I got my head out the window. Fresh air… sweet sweet fresh air helping to calm my stomach from its dire search to find something to eject. Coughing, gagging, and eyes watering aside I panted in the clean breeze and felt the warmth of the sun on my face. “Celestia’s harem, that's just… disgusting.” I wheezed.

When my stomach’s tantrum calmed down enough I pulled myself back into the room. Nope! Nuh-uh, I’m done! I did my best to maintain as much distance from Cloudy-Skies’ body as possible and closed the office door behind me. I got one of my charcoal pieces out and marked a big black ‘X’ over the door and wrote ‘R.I.P’ right above. Surely that will save somepony else from ever walking in on that again, or at least prepare them. This did confirm one thing for me though, I wasn’t alone out here… probably. There were enough ponies left for there to be fights worth recording at minimum.

The rest of this farmhouse of horrors was, much to the relief of my poor stomach, lacking much else. A room with a few ancient mattresses, an empty safe, some more ruined furniture, and lastly what I could only guess was a kid's room. Faded as they were, the colors were brighter, the bed too small, and the pile of dusty stuffed animals was a dead giveaway. Huh, as sad as they all looked it was a nice change of pace to find something cute in here for once.

One of the toys stood out though. “Wait a minute…” I squinted, walking over to the pile of stuffed animals. “And whom might you be?” I asked as among the pile of stuffed animals was a cruder, yet somehow fresher than the rest, brown one. Horn aglow I pulled the oddity from the pile. “Oh cute, a stuffed radroach.” I glowered, feeling the universe had a sick and twisted sense of humor with all these radroaches I kept finding. Rotating the stuffed-radroach around it was clearly hoof-made, cartoonishly round like a hoofball, with big black button eyes, and little cloth nubs to represent its legs and antennas. Somepony made this far more recently that the rest and- Oh hey, there’s a tag. “B-Rad…” I read aloud before rotating his adorably smiling roachy face to look at me.

“So you’re B-Rad… or is it Brad? Or both?” Was I really talking to stuffed animals now? I got my front down and held him between my hooves looking into those deeply meaningful black button eyes. I always wanted one, but non-suit cloth in the stable was about as rare as real wood. I gave the little guy a testing squeeze.

Squeeeak!~

I blinked and my cheeks felt warm. Sweet Luna’s inferiority complex I’ve never felt more like a filly than I did in those five seconds. Sketchy Waaaant! “That’s it! You’re coming with me Brad, no arguments! You’ve been conscripted to the Sketchy expeditionary team.” I proclaimed getting back on my hooves and packing him into my saddle bag making another squee-worthy squeak. It's so cute!

I turned back to all the rest of the stuffed animals in various states of neglect and bit my lip. A twinge in my soul that I couldn’t take them all with me, much less know how to repair them. “I-I’m sorry guys, I just… can’t fix you. Hope you find your original foals in the Everafter.” I felt a sniff coming on as I backed out of the room, gently closing the door behind me too. I’d take them all if I could, get them fixed, cleaned, hand one out to each of the foals back in 83, and keep the rest for myself piled on my bed. That was it though, every corner of this house looked over. Despite the posters, the body, and all the rot… it’d lost that ominous feeling that permeated everything when I first came in. It was just a big empty, ruined house… and nopony had lived here for a long time. I’m leaving before I find out the house is alive or something.

It was good to be outside again, surrounded in all directions by gently waving deadish grass, ice-less mountains to my north, and the occasional husks of long-gone trees. Only now I was noticing just how badly my nose was stuffed up from walking through that place. Now that I was out in the open it all started to drain and I could breathe again. Phase two hit the road, make my way north to route 10, and bank left to the antenna array on the other side of the mountain.

Looking at the crumbled street and back at the farmhouse creaking in the wind I felt an unease. That was quite possibly the most disturbing place I’ve ever been in. Plastered with fanatical levels of saint Pinky imagery, the rotting, the creaking, all those stuffed animals left to waste away, and even a dead pony never found by his… friends? Did he have friends? I… I had to do something. I took out Brad, looking between him and the building as if he’d somehow conveyed his desires of what he wanted to be done with the place. With a little squeeze and a squeak, I put him back when the idea hit me. “I think I know what to do. All of them need to move on.” I glanced down hovering out the silver star from under the neck of my stable suit. “I vow to be kind…”

***

An hour later I sat there, my rump planted on the cracked asphalt, gazing into the towering inferno. Brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds dancing and refracting through my glasses. Even from here, I could feel the heat of the flames on my face, no way I could get closer. It had been easy to start. A stick, a rag, a light from my kiln spell, and one good toss through a window. The building was one big fire hazard waiting to go off with all that dry rotted wood and thatch roofing. It was as easy as it was beautiful in a somber kind of way. The sight was like gazing into the stable foundries, but with none of the control. All the colors of my mane flowed upward to spew a pillar of choking smoke high into the clear blue sky.

“To the Everafter with all of you and may the goddesses take every last one.” I mumbled echoing what I'd said when I threw the first torch. I’ve never seen so much fire, heard the hiss and pops of wood burning, or witnessed the wonton flight of countless cinders. For all the size the flames boasted, climbing the walls and pouring out from the windows, the tower of smoke was magnitudes larger. The stream of pillowing black roiling into the sky, and through the glint of the flames in my glasses I saw the outlines of faces. The stuffed animals, Cloudy-Skies, and countless copies of Saint Pinky all passed in seconds. Ever rolling and shifting into each other before the smoke dissipated into the sky. I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to, it was all so… pretty.

The faces began to change, shifting from blissful release to twists of agony. My ears twitched as I began to hear screaming, crying, and begging... Warm wetness ran down my nose as I locked eyes with the enrapturing blaze. A bang “Mommy!!” cried one fillie’s voice before it was drowned out by a chorus. An ear-splitting chorus of the same mare's voice weeping “I don't want to burn~”. Another bang, “Daddy!!” the filly cried again. I dropped, holding my ears to make it stop, but the cries wouldn’t go away. My hooves only dimmed the roar of the flames as the voices got louder and louder.

The wet warmth started dripping down my nose. I finally blinked and gasped for air when the house came down upon itself ejecting embers in a great whoosh blowing sparks past me. “Wh-what the fuck?!” I stammered frantically trying to get up as my nose continued to bleed, painting the pavement.

I backed away from the now one-story farmhouse. This place wasn’t just a goddess-damned horror show, it was a vindictive one too. “Nope! This is your department Celestia! I-I’m not trained for this! I knew it was haunted!” I cried booking it down the road away from the remains of the blazing structure. How bad my nose was bleeding could wait until I was as far away from that place as possible.

I galloped till my legs ached, nearly flopping to the ground and panting as I looked back over my shoulder to see the pillar of smoke rising above a now quite small blob of orange light. That was possibly the longest distance I’ve ever run in my life. My heart was pounding, my lungs were panting, my throat and burning, and… at least my nose stopped bleeding. Sweet Celestia I’m going to start using the gym treadmill at least once a week when I get back. In the meantime though… ‘Brain? I know I’ve said some mean things in the past, maybe even threatened you a little, but would you please… PLEASE!? For the love of Luna's glorious ass, bury everything I just saw in the mental scar corner?! That’s something Pickle-Jar can handle right? Me seeing ghosts? She’d… She’d probably tell me something like I was overstressed about the body and sad toys projecting my... I dunno, fears or something! They weren't real, my mind made them up! Yeah, that’s what she’d tell me.’ I assured myself wiping the blood from my snoot onto my now mildly bloody sleeve. “Eww… Now I gotta wash this and-... Luna fuck me sideways there's no washing machine out here! AHHH-”

***

The Sun was now lower in the sky and the horizon was beginning to shift into this beautiful array of colors just like my mane. So many oranges, yellows, and even pinks blending around the sun as it lowered into the silent horizon. I think the evening shift would normally be starting right about now and I’d be headed for the cafe- My stomach growled. “I know you’re empty, geeze, but after the fits you threw there's no way I’m feeding you right now.” I grumbled arguing with my organs again. I kept walking.

Now that I think about it, the sun was setting, which meant it was going to be Luna’s turn as soon as the sun was down. This also means the moon should be coming up from over- It’s… It’s already up. Out to the east across the open fields and scattered trees hung the pale beauty of the moon about as high off the horizon as the sun was the opposite way. I looked back and forth between the two nearly spinning on the spot as I tried to make sense of it. “That's… impossible. The two are never supposed to be out at the same time!” The only exception to that rule was when the sun was exactly Ex-Act-Ly! when the sun was halfway below the horizon. Even then the moon should only be halfway up in equal amounts. That’s how it works, that’s what the books said! That’s what Daddy always said!

My moment of panic aside, the world didn’t seem to be… well, exploding by this sheer affront to the cycle of things. “Huh…” Well, the moon was far easier to look at at least. Something something, Daddy saying a verse about staring into the sun is as bad as staring at Celestia’s flank sounds about right. Big, round-ish, and pale white… a lot like Celestia’s flank… I mean the sun but dim enough one could see the surface of Luna’s domain. Guess she’s going to be the one watching me for the next twelve hours… please tell me night and day are still twelve hours each. I’d bite my bit in half if the night somehow turned out to only be five minutes. Where the sun’s horizon put on a display of fantastic colors, the moon’s horizon faded and shifted into purples, darker blues, and blacks. Like a curtain rising or a blanket being pulled over Equis. Passing the gibbous moon in a-

‘Chirp~’

“What was that?!” I tensed looking around for the source and was met with a long moment of silence. Then another from off the road behind me. I turned again and called “Who’s there?!”, but no answer. The chirps started coming from more places, some far, some close, and eventually, I had to stop spinning around to face them or I’d get dizzy. Eventually, the chirps turned into a gentle chorus as the sun fell lower. Nothing was coming at me at least, yet it was all around me. I started walking down the road again until something jumped from the grass ahead of me.

“Ahh!!” I squealed, recoiling away from the creature. It was the same size and general profile as a rad-roach, but its chitin was as pale brown as the grass, with really REALLY long back legs, and it hopped. Wait a minute… I paused slowly coming down from my reared back ‘scream like a little filly found a radroach in her room’ stance, and adjusted my glasses back into place. I watched the thing hop a few feet at a time across the road until it disappeared into the wild grass once more. “Miss Appleboom’s biology class… grass, long rear legs, hops everywhere…” it clicked! “It's a bunny!!” I answered out loud pointing to where it vanished into the grass. “Nopony ever knew what sounds bunnies made! I guess without anypony around to bother them they chirp! This field is full of bunnies!” I pumped my hoof. ‘Yes! My ego after that little scream was saved with no witnesses to boot! Woo!’ I trotted along taking a little sniff of smug-ium knowing my ivory tower of a mind had won the day yet again. The little princesses in tiny lab coats and glasses nodded on my back in affirmation before poofing into puffs of their respective color palettes.

It’s getting darker, much darker than I’d anticipated. Sure my eyes were adjusting, but it still felt like I was in a poorly lit mineshaft. With the sun gone and Celestia taking her rest the soft white glow of the moon was joined by a growing sea of twinkling specks up above. “Stars…” I mumbled, slowing my pace to look up at them. Soon even they were not alone as the blackness gave way to a great backdrop of colors. Purples and pale blues layered like great unmoving clouds over the blackness beyond forever woven in place. “Woooooah…” The occasional tiny streak of light zipping across the infinite expanse above only added to the majesty of this timeless window of the cosmos. As much as I stared up at them, the cool breeze washed over my coat, and I felt… something I'd never felt before. Was it awe? It was probably awe.

My eyes were drawn back to the moon and I felt a tinge of warmth come to my face as I felt watched. “D-Don’t judge me! I’ve never seen all this sky.. star.. stuff before! Or you!” I pointed up and glared at the celestial body. A tiny Luna appeared out of the edge of my vision just to silently giggle at me and poof once more. Was the sky like this every night? Did the clouds of color change or have ponies been looking up at Luna’s tapestry for countless generations, all seeing the same thing? It seemed so infinitely deep… could I touch them? I’m sure greater and older ponies than me have asked the same questions at some point. Plus, I don’t think Luna is going to appear right next to me just to answer them for me. She was the lord of dreams after all… nightmares too.

Given how my day was going though I looked around just to make sure the princess of the night wasn't about to suddenly appear because I jinxed it. Several seconds later I sighed feeling slightly relieved, and mildly disappointed. Thank the goddesses I’m not that special. I mean seriously, what kind of coincidence would it have to be for less than a day after leaving my stable I’d get visited by Luna herself? Hell, at that rate she might give me some kind of grand and over-the-top quest I had to go on to save all of Equis or something. That’s just bad writing, you gotta time it just right, really give it a few chapters. I mean I went pretty far just to justify some of the sex scenes for my OCs in those cringey Daring-Doo fanfictions I wrote in high school. But not even I’m willing to make a character snowflakey enough to just meet the night princess right off the bat. In reality, she’d probably buck me upside the head for how often I used her godly ass as a descriptor or exclamation. “Heh…” I chuckled at my thoughts with a dumb little smile. Just me, my thoughts, and this dark ass expanse all around me… No less than a second later I dropped my head into my hooves. “Fuck me, I need friends!” I groaned, my eyes closed tight.

“Well, I could be your friend. Even if you are a bit of an arsonist.” came a static canny voice above me.

My head shot right up, eyes wide and looking around frantically in search of the origin of that voice, but nopony was around. Just the gentle rustle of the breeze and the chirp of those bunnies. “Who..?” I started until I looked forward again. Hovering above the road this yay big metal orb with countless antennas sticking out the back, right.. in.. my face.

“Ahhh!?!” I screamed like a filly… again. Rearing onto my hinds, falling back, and dropping my glasses. I scuffled to get back up on my hooves. Then I realized, I wasn’t being mauled to death by a magically appearing metal demon. Also one small little detail, something minor in the grand scheme of the situation… I couldn’t see shit! Thus began my side quest to fumble around in the dark for my glasses. “Please don’t be broken.” I prayed, feeling up my surroundings.

“Your left… a little lefter… no too far.” came the staticy voice again from the same spot, it… he, sounds like a he, was trying to be helpful at least. Even if he did scare the crap out of me a second ago. Ugh, the surface is going to make me go gray at this rate. Well, greyer…

I felt around a bit longer squinting in the darkness “I got it just… aha!” I nudged the big lenses with my hoof! That was enough for me to get a lock on them with my TK and hover them back onto my muzzle. Ah, sweet sweet reality-level resolution it was nice to have you back.

“You sure do that a lot…” The voice from the metal orb commented. Its screen, grid… thing staring at me blankly.

I blinked, not sure where I was supposed to make eye contact with this thing “Do what?..” I asked sheepishly. Please don't say scream, please don't say scream!

“Scream like you found a spider in the bathtub…” he answered, and I groaned feeling the embarrassment set in, fortunately, fended off by how weird the situation was.

“Well, maybe things should stop sneaking up on me! Hmm?!” I retorted pointing an accusatory hoof at the floating metal orb. “It’s like everpony on Equis is out to give me a heart attack.”

The orb was silent for a while as I stared at it. I opened my mouth once more to say something when he started talking again. “You’re fresh out of the stable, aren't you? 83 I'm guessing?” he asked, not giving me any facial expressions to work with. I can’t read steel! Things that talk should have eyebrows at the minimum!

“H-How’d you know I was from stable 83?” I answered with my own question. Seemed perfectly reasonable to ask given I just met this guy and stable 83 was in the ass end of a mine.

Another shorter pause “Well you’re wearing a stable suit, it has a big yellow 83 on it, and you have a pip-buck. Anybody in the wasteland could tell you’re a stable dweller.”

“Waste… land?” I said inquisitively, tilting my head, and feeling the word in my mouth. The descriptor certainly fits given everything I've seen so far.

“Ohh you’re really fresh. One moment…'' The floating orb went silent allowing me to look the thing over. It may have been dark out here right now and the bunnies may be chirping, but my eyes had adjusted fairly well to the moonlight. This was a machine, I could see the wires, bolts, and plates now that I wasn’t too busy screaming. An old machine if the rust, scuffs, and grime were anything to go by. It hovered nigh perfectly in place with four little mint green wings that flapped so fast they blurred.

“Told you we’d find one eventually.” crackled from the bot, but the voice was much quieter, and didn’t sound directed at me. I squinted, were these things just glorified intercom systems? Megaphones with wings?

Another voice could be heard ever so slightly quieter, but much deeper and with a certain twang that sounded… kinda hot. Made me think of Bronze, but smaller. “Ah heard ya, but ah still can’t believe this is what ya do all day. When do ah get to talk to ‘em? Yall said it was mah turn to try showin’ the newbies the ropes.”

“I know, but I didn’t expect you to actually stay around for more than an hour, much less four days. Plus there's no way I’m letting you touch my old headset while you still have jelly on your hooves or peanut butter in your teeth.”

“Are you questionin’ my wife's cookin’ choices? Cuz if even I can’t do that you don’t get to neither.” Darn he’s married, well there went that fantasy. I sighed watching the dream die as fast as it was born.

“No, I’m saying you have sticky hooves and not in the usual sense.”

“Oh, you are the last person who gets to call me a klepto whatzit. Look, mah hooves er fine!”

“Wiping them off on your battle saddle doesn't count. Doesn't Velvet get on your case all the time about washing your hooves?”

“Yeah and erry time she does I wash em’ then and only then. They’re just going to get dirty again the instant I walk anywhere. Yer point?”

“For one, eww…” The original robot guy commented. I see the art of washing one's hooves is an endangered one on the surface. “But my point is you’re not touching my headset until you’ve washed your-”

“Umm guys?” I finally interjected jumping into the conversation. “You left the mic on, and what's peanut butter?”

“By Celestia’s beatin’ wings yer’ stable ain’t got peanut butter girl?!” There was a crackle from the bot like somebody was bumping 83’s intercom mic.

“No, don't touch that! You’re getting jelly on the ear muffs!” the original voice whined like somepony whose perfectly mint ministry mare cards got scuffed.

“Oh, hush ya big baby. There’s no way these were gonna fit you anymore anyways. Now which ah these buttons is the-” retorted the now slightly less attractive voice of the very much spoken for buck before being cut off. The bot broke into blaring this awful scratchy horn tune! It was like someone took a trumpet, threw it in an overly patriotic washing machine, and then copied the recording over the same tape five thousand times.

“Loud! Too loud!” I dropped holding my hooves to my ears until the music, if it could be called that, cut with another static crackle. Thank the goddesses...

“Okay okay this button is the signal cutter, an’ that one is the push-ta-talk.” seems a buck with the admittedly still kinda hot accent was finally getting the controls. I had time for that voice.

“Stop touching random buttons on my rig! This whole thing is carefully calibrated!” to be fair, I'd strangle anypony that touched my pip-buck so I could relate. “Just follow the checklist I made you okay? She’s fresh out of a stable nopony has ever seen before. Probably got out today even, so try not to scare her off. Far as I can tell she’s halfway between a Blackjack and a Pip. Don’t get her killed..”

“Right right, stick to the script, an’ tread delicate like." There was a pregnant pause between me and the robot that was going to win this staring contest.

“So…” I started trying to break the awkward silence over my knee.

The buck coughed. “So uhh… hai there. I’m Cal- err, we- he’s slash we’s are Watcher.” he struggled like I could hear him reading off a clipboard and trying to put it in his own words. “You can’t see me pointin’ can ya?... My bad.”

I raised a brow. “So the first guy is Watcher? Is he like a voyeur or something cause-?” I started to ask before the bot broke into several seconds of sexily accented snickering. "No, but-" It cut to pure silence once more.

“Umm… hello? Did you hit the wrong button or did I hit the pick on the vein?” I asked. Either could be the case at this rate. I raised a hoof to lightly knock on the metal chassis of the bot. ‘Tink tink~’ Huh, it sounded hollow.

The voice crackled back on. “Alright, alright calm down, she has a point tho.” the ‘other’ watcher got louder like he was facing the mic again. “Yeah, no. Watcher quite adamantly claims he ain’t into watchin’ like that, even if some of us might beg to differ.” I think I heard a different little growl in the background of the conversation.

“I can burn you ya know…” grumbled Watcher-One from the bot’s background noise.

Sensing this might take a minute I sat on my haunches, in the middle of the wide open starlit road. “Take your time, everypony was new at their job at some point.” I could be patient, or at least kind… or was this closer to generosity? Honesty maybe?

“That's mighty nice of ya, just err..” I heard a page flip.

“Sketchy.” I gave my name to keep the buck on his roll.

“Okay, Sketchy, nice meetin’ ya. So cordin’ to this I’m sposed’ to indirectly ask you a series of questions about yourself via…” Page flip “Subtle conversation steerin’ to figure out what yer all about. Somethin’ somethin’ context clues and... Ehh buck it." There was a clatter of clipboard on stone, a sound which I was very familiar with. Things were so goddess-damn indestructible miners liked using them to break rocks. “I’m just gonna ask you whatever comes to mind. Sound good?”

“Shoot~” I answered, hard to argue with that level of honesty!

“Mah favorite word. Most important question first though.” The orb bot thing hovered closer and I leaned back a little in turn. “Are you buckin’ serious about not knowing what peanut butter is?!” He still couldn’t believe it.

“I uhh... Would me asking ‘what's a peanut’ and ‘what's a butter’ help answer that question?” I smiled sheepishly hoping I wasn’t digging myself some kind of cultural grave here.

“Lil-Pip gonna throw a tornado hearin’ this… Feel like I just walked through pink cloud hearin’ that. Phew…” he exasperated. “Okay, redeemin’ question time. It’s a long shot 'cause most of you stable types keep comin’ out as vegetarians like mah wife, but please tell me yer stable at least has bacon?”

I slowly raised a hoof starting to feel like I needed to in order to ask questions. “What’s a ba-” I started but Watcher-2 jumped in again.

“I’m just gonna stop you right there. I don’t think my heart can bear to hear them words. I don’t think the universe could take such a thing being spoken either.” Bacon had to be some kind of princess-made ambrosia if this is how he talked about it. Why do I have this feeling that I want a distinctly unhealthy amount of it now?

I ever so slowly pulled the tome from my saddle bag and opened it to one of the first blank pages to start taking notes. My horn glowed as I started taking notes and doodling the winged bot in front of me. “So you and your wife are from a stable?” I asked looking up from the page.

“Me? Nah~ My wife’s from stable two down by Ponyville. I’m technically from the Enclave, but most ponies might know me from my caravan guardian’ days or helpin’ Pip save the wasteland.” I kept taking notes for as long as he was willing to keep talking. Slowly developing a list of ponies I needed to meet.

“So.. bein’ new and all.” crap I was picking up his accent, it's both contagious and hot! I coughed. “What’s the Enclave?”

“Oh them? Well, technically the whole name is the ‘Grand Pegasus Enclave’ not that they’re exactly grand anymore.” I could hear the air quotes in his voice “It’s what happened to all the Pegasai when the mega-spells dropped. Fled to the sky and sealed up the clouds.” Watcher-Two explained while I wrote all this stuff down.

I scribbled that Enclave symbol along with everything else I could remember from that letter I read. I should figure out what part of this book I should dedicate to Enclave stuff. “Hey, uhh… d-does the name Private Cloudy-Skies mean anything to you?” I asked looking up at the bot again.

“Eh?” I swear I heard the blink of confusion… it had an accent too. “Yer gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. Cloudy-Skies is as common a pegasus name as ‘Buck’ is to earth ponies.” He wasn’t wrong… I think there were at least three earth-bucks named ‘Buck’ back in 83.

I flipped back a page. “Private Cloudy-Skies of the Raptor Fog-Bank. Whatever a raptor is.” I tried my best to recall what I could while I wrote what I did. It was still quite dark out here to be writing even with the moonlight. One boop of the flashlight button on my pip-buck and I was back to writing. “He was some kind of engineer, wrote a lot of complaints about piss poor repairs that were ignored. The engine blew up or something which made the raptor crash into a mountain. Crawled down this road with a piece of the ship embedded in his side, and died over…” I stopped reading aloud and bit my lip as the bot was silent. I glanced back over my shoulder and far off in the distance was the wobbling red speck of a very burnt-down house. “Over there…”

The silence was palpable and the longer it went on the more I wanted to shrink down behind my book. The bot briefly turned to look in the same direction as the torched pie family farm. “I’ve uhh… never met the fella. You err... Found his body?” Watcher-two asked, looking back at me once more.

I gulped. “Yeah, slumped against a terminal upstairs, last report typed out on it.” ahh crap I forgot there was a functional terminal upstairs! “Which also burned…”

“Right, so I’m bein’ told by Watcher-One to ask why ya went n’ burned down Pinkie-pie’s childhood home?” The words made me freeze, my pencil hitting the pavement. Pinkie Pie’s… childhood home? Please resume beating Heart, Please!! “Got a reason or was it just a lil bout of pyromania?” He sounded a bit concerned as to what I was going to answer.

My answer was coughing and coming to realize that was the saint of Joy’s house?! “Th-That was Saint Pinkie’s house?!” I whipped around looking back at the distant ember to the south still giving off streams of black into the colorful night sky. “I thought it was just a creepy-ass haunted house!” I grabbed the sides of my head. Don’t panic Sketchy you only torched the joy saint’s house. “It was all rotten, and the roaches, and the ghosts, and there was a b-body, and-” Oh shit! Oh fuck! I burned down Pinkie’s house!

The bot zipped out in front of me. “Heyheyhey! Settle down now, it’s just a ruined house. Aint nothin’ worth spillin’ milk over. Now I don’t know nothin’ about any saints, or ghost, or whatever, but hear me when I say it’s just a house.”

Sweet Celestia I needed another one of Dad’s paper bags! There was no way I was going to get one out here though. I gotta force it down. Gotta breathe, gotta supply air to wimpy lungs at reasonable speeds. “But… but… the screams, and the body, and the faces, and the…” I looked at the bot while I frantically waved a hoof in the general direction of the smoldering ruins.

“I think you might be suffering from a bit o’ first-time surfacing delirium there Sketchy.” I paused my frantic waving at what he said and my panic attack was booted to the back of the line. “It's yer first day up on the surface, never seen the sky before, probably spewed yer breakfast all over the grass you ain't ever touched before.” I nodded along slowly as he listed out how my day had transpired thus far. “And the first thing you encounter was that one filly’s creepy Pinkie-Pie museum and what I’m assumin’ was your first time ever seein’ a body?”

“Y-yeah..” and answered meekly. The only time I'd ever seen bodies before was at funerals, and those were always as fresh and spotless as could be like they were just asleep. “I… h-he needed to be buried or cremated or… something. That whole place was a h-horror show and I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“So ya burned it down?” he asked, and I nodded slowly. Simple as that. His voice dimmed away from the mic again “See? Perfectly legitimate reasons. Ghosts, scary posters, and she wanted to send off some poor pegasi buck. To be honest, the posters alone sell me on torchin’ the place, at least a little.” He really didn't know how to let go of the push-to-talk key…

There was the distinct grumble of a mildly upset Watcher-One from the mic as well. “At least it wasn’t Rarity’s boutique or Twilight's library. So long as she doesn't go around torching every building she finds a body in she should be fine.”

I slowly raised my question hoof again. There was something I had to ask. “The homes of the saint of generosity and saint of magic are still around? Oh! What about Fluttershy’s magic cottage and the enchanted forest that holds every frolicking animal? Or Applejack’s endless orchard of truth? Oh oh oh! What about RainbowDash’s fortress of awesome?!” I was excited! Of course, such great landmarks survived the balefire bombs! The bot was silent as I went on “If Rarity’s Palace of endless gemmed garments is still around I could stop by on my way to Twilight’s Tree of Knowledge.” I gasped! “That would be perfect for my book! I could skip so much just by finding the information at the library! Which way is it from here?” I looked around at the dim horizons trying to guess, even checking my pip-buck to see if the Ponyville marker came up! Pilgrimage here I come! I’m gonna be holier than Dad when I’m done up here, I’d get to go to the places he told me stories about.

There was a long silence though, an uneasy silence from the watchers as the drone hung there silently, staring at me. “What erm… what did ya say was wrong with yer stable again?” came that attractive twang, ruined by the concern in his voice.

“Wrong with my-” I stopped, coming down from my excitement to look at Watcher’s drone thing again. “What do you mean wrong with my stable?”

“Well err…” Watcher-Two started sounding like he couldn't look me in the eyes/screen right now as he spoke. “We've been noticin’ a recurrin’ theme with all the stables really. All but a few of em usually have somethin’ super weird going on.”

“Something weird?” I questioned and tilted my head a little. Nothing weird stood out about the stable. We were all alive, the place wasn’t haunted, the goddesses were good, and I can’t think of a single time anything extreme happened in stable history. Sure there was the occasional mine shaft collapse, but that's hardly weird. “Do you have examples or..?”

“Oh plenty of em’, most of the stables we come across been sacked, overrun, or destroyed, and not necessarily in that order.” Well, that's concerning… I gulped. “Let’s see, is your stable run by a homicidally insane computer? We've found a few of those.”

My jaw dropped a little at the idea of being trapped in a stable that wanted to kill you. “That’s… That’s terrible! No!” Seriously, who would trust a calculator with that level of job? Machines don’t feel empathy, there’s no soul. They can think sure, but they weren't capable of perceiving the elements of harmony as anything more than rules and restrictions.

“Mmmkay ruling out killer computers.” I heard some scribbling on the other end. He must have a list. “Any awkward social experiments like lineage employment?” I opened my mouth to ask what the hell that meant when he continued. “It's like err… if your parents died you’d be forced to take their job.”

“No… Dad’s a priest, and I think Mom was in training to be a forebuck.” Dad never really talked about what Mom used to do for a living down in the stable, just all the shenanigans she used to get up to or stories of how they met.

Another scribble. “Aight… Culture centered around a hyper-efficient recyclin’ system?”

“Nope…”

Scratch. “Overrun by zombie plant ponies?”

“The fuck?...” I tilted my head. How?!

Another scratch. “A training facility for new age royal guards?”

“I wish.” Celestia had good taste in ponies that was for sure. Think my first crush was on the buck in the royal guard recruitment’ poster that I uhh… ‘acquired’ from the security office. This was before I noticed Pickle-jar and Bronze were a lot more… heh, real.

“Yer only water talisman broke?”

“Nuh-uh, plenty of spares, first one ain't even broke yet.”

Scritch. “That's a nice change a’ pace… how about Nine hundred and ninety-nine bucks to one mare?”

I blinked. “Hot… but no. Don’t think I’d be able to walk if my stable was like that…” By Celestia’s foal factory that poor mare must have limped everywhere! Would be like having all of Celestia’s royal guard harem to herself… Think I feel a new story coming on! I shook my head to focus back in otherwise my cheeks were gonna burn. Begone lurid fantasies! I’ll write you down later.

Another scribble “That is a very fair point… one buck an’ nearly a thousand mares?” ah yes, the total inverse! The dream of every buck that wasn't good as gelded.

“Also hot… but again, no.” Seriously two whole stables were dedicated to extreme population dynamics?!

“Darn, that lucky bastard’s still the only one…” Of course that was the one that disappointed the twangy stallion. “Did yer stable have an over-enforced and/or complete reversal of stereotypical gender roles?”

“Gender roles? You m-mean like how most of the miners are bucks?” I asked as yet another mental image of what such a stable would be like manifested in my head. Doubling down on bucks being big strong miners that just want to come home and plow their special mares into a puddle. Long days doing manly buck things like sweating and flexing… The mares tend to the foals while their bucks are off working, making food, and cleaning cloths. Or the total opposite where it's the bucks staying home and the mares doing all the sweaty work with a ‘get shit done’ attitude. Then it hit me… Holy horseapples Applebloom was some kind of pervert! Just like me! I’d bet she founded Stable-TEC as a front for all these dirty-minded experiments. I knew she sounded too perfect in history class! No way a mare with that much power, money, and no buckfriend could resist pulling something like that!

“Yeah kinda like that just-... Did ya say mines?” his tone changed, like I said something that sounded weird.

“I did, bucks are usually the first to take up openings to work the mines. The fastest way to get out of being in school all day, but there are still plenty of pick-mares working the rock breakers too.” okay sure there was like a 2 to 1 gender disparity in the mines, but the pay was the same no matter what job you had really.

“Aha! Yer stable had mines! Knew we’d figure it out eventually.” He was surprised by the mines?

“Well yeah, don’t most stables? You can only fit so much into a warehouse after all. What are you saying? All the other stables just sat on stockpiles of pre-war goodies until they ran out and died?” That was preposterous, insane even. Not having a mine to provide material for additional necessities was like asking anypony moving in to commit a multi-generational suicide. Applebloom couldn’t have-

“No, no they don’t darlin’. Every stable we come across so far ain't had mines. Some were built in abandoned mines, but that's it.” I could hardly believe what Watcher-Two was saying.

“That's… That's so dumb!” I protested, pointing a hoof to the bot. “What kind of deranged pony gets in a stable with finite supplies and no idea how long the surface is going to be uninhabitable?”

“Well, I’d guess anypony who didn't want to die when the bombs fell?” When did the bot get eyebrows to raise at me?

My hoof dropped. “Okay fair…” Sure he had a point, a really good point, but said point was made to counter my argument so I reserve the right to be upset about it. At least for the next five or so seconds, It's my goddess-given right to be petty! “Still dumb…” I mumbled folding my hooves.

“Well if havin’ a massive stockpile of necessities meant to last centuries is dumb why are you up here on the surface? I doubt it’s cause you got bored ah’ the scenery.” He asked, but I had a perfectly legitimate reason to be out here. Unfortunately, it's a reason that blew a gaping hole in all my previous statements.

“We uhh... I uhh..” the bot got closer and I shrank down a bit. “Themineswentdryandtheysentmeoutheretoseeifitwassafe!” I squeaked as quickly as possible hoping he didn’t see the gaping hole my quest blew in the idea mines were superior to stockpiles.

“Ya know, If I hadn't spent so long with Lil-Pip I might not have understood you right then.” Ah, shit. Curse you Little-Pip for teaching this buck how to speak squeaky-mare-ese! “So how's your hoof taste? Bein’ how firmly you're putting it in yer mouth n’ all.”

“Mah hoof tastes fine! Thankin’ yah vury much! ” Yep, I was mocking his accent. That’s the level I was stooping to. Somehow the accent isn't as attractive when I use it. “Not my fault the warehouse went empty a century ago.”

“Well, somepony’s a lil butthurt. Yah pout just like Pip when we give her shit about snoopin’.” He started to chuckle when I heard the small crack of an explosion from the other side of the mic followed by a rumble. What the hell was that? Did his rig blow up? “Holy horseapples Pip! I’m only teasin’!? There ain’t no reason to throw lightnin’ that close to Sky-Bandit-Two! All mah wild pegasus is in there!”

“You keep feral pegasi?” I asked before my ears twitched, picking up a distant rumble on the horizon. When I looked towards the origin there was nothing but the wide open countryside, some mountains, and stars.

His voice was directed back at me once more. “What?! Oh, Nononono I ain't no slaver.” that just raised even more questions. “Wild Pegasus is just my drink of choice.”

“Ohh like maint-shine or cider?” I added, remembering the swill they brewed down in the tunnels. I liked to use it as paint thinner, mainly cause one of the main ingredients was paint thinner.

“Exactly, Now yer new to the surface, and out here in the wilderness alone.” I glanced around, he wasn't wrong, it was indeed the wilderness. “Unlike what Watcher-One was gonna do, I’m gonna give you a bit more practical advice than just goin’ out and makin’ friends.”

“So I don’t need to make friends out here?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you definitely do, but Imma tell you how!” Oh, thank the goddesses, after all this time somepony was finally going to tell me how to make friends! I flipped to a new page in my book to start encoding this priceless information. “The rules of hoof when It comes to making friends in the wasteland. Number one: Anypony that shoots you in the ass and apologizes after is guaranteed to be a lifelong friend.”

I dropped my pencil again. “...what? Isn’t that the opposite of how you make friends?! I’m pretty sure if somepony from security nicked me in the ass with a pistol I’d hold it against them forever!”

“I know, I know, sounds incredibly hard to believe, but it’s true. It's happened way too many times for it not to be a bonafide wasteland fact. I shot Lil-Pip and now she can’t get rid of me. Even all of Blackjack’s friends shot her in the ass at least once.”

“You're kidding…” there was no way I could just shoot somepony in the ass and so long as I apologized they’d become my friend.

“Nope, it’s true. If one of you can get past shooting the other in the ass then you're destined to adventure together.” he confirmed, but now that I think about it anypony capable of that level of forgiveness is a masochist, unlucky, or the living reincarnation of Saint Fluttershy. I went to raise my questioning hoof. “-and this is not an excuse to go round shootin’ every flank you see and yellin’ sorry afterward.” I slowly lowered my hoof.

TKing my pencil back up I resumed writing this all down. “Okay, what else? Some lines about how opposites attract but like-minded ponies are where it’s at?” I suggested waiting to be told I was wrong.

“Actually yes. You gotta find some ponies who share your interests. Having common goals is good n’ all, but if you have nothing else in common with em’ they aren't your friend. Just a few things is all it usually takes. Morals are a big one, favorite weapons, love of bacon, drinkin’, music, and buildin’ stuff together, are all examples.” he listed, and I wrote. It sounded more like a list of HIS favorite things.

Think the closest thing I had to a friend was Pickle-Jar, she makes me feel better about myself, but what do we have in common? She cooked, and I cleaned. Her hobby was being an untrained therapist and mine was drawing tasteful flank. We both like big manes, especially her’s. There’s Tulip-Patch, but she’s… a bitch. A repentant bitch that I recently learned was just super jealous the whole time, but still a bitch. If I hadn’t beaten her face in, broken her heart, and patched things up by inviting her to dinner I’d probably be getting a stable-suit wedgie right now. That mare is the sole reason I don’t wear the pants half of my suit for the extra pockets, Buuut we're past that now. There was Bronze, but I can hardly carry a sentence when that massive slab of buck talks to me. I think he likes... Rocks? He is a miner, but everypony in 83 likes rocks. He likes Tulip! He’s super into Tulip now that I think about it. If anypony could tame that mare it was probably-

“Third, and most importantly, once you have 'em, stick by em no matter what.” Watcher-Two’s voice snapped me out of my thought bubble and back to writing. “No matter what kind of personal, emotional, or whatever baggage your friends might be goin’ through. Ya stick by em. Cause they would do the same for you. Show em’ ya care, save their life a few times even if ya could easily run away, and understand no amount of caps can ever replace em’.” Wow, this buck was loyal, whoever this Lil-Pip is must be really lucky to have a friend like this at her side… even if he did shoot her.

“Is… is that all?” I asked, looking up from the book where I had been writing the list and adding doodles of numerous ponies getting shot in the ass. The mini princesses were also there, doodling their little stick-figure scribbles around the words on the page too. “And what are caps?”

“That's pretty much it, at least thems’ the rules as far as I can put em into words at the moment. Also, caps are them metal things from sparkle-cola bottles. They’ve been the currency up here for as long as I can remember.” The caps were currency? But what happened to bits?

“And uhh… how much would two hundred of those gotten me?” I asked now looking back at the quite faded ember of the rock farm.

“Well a fair bit really. Could buy you a week or more of food, maybe a gun and some rounds for it. Or a few bottles of wild pegasus. Why? You find that much on your first day already?”

“K-kinda…” my hopes dropped realizing that the pile of bottlecaps I thought were trash went up in flames with the house. They were metal though so maybe they survived?

The bot hovered around and looked in the same direction. “Well, ifin’ ya still have em’ my second piece of advice is to get your little hooves on a gun. Given you look about as well armed as the day you were born, a copious amount of guns if you can help it.” spoken like a true aficionado of the things.

“Why would I need a gun? I’m not exactly running around arresting ponies. Not that there's anypony out here.” I looked sound at the empty expanse again. “...Except for you.”

The bot turned back to me “Oh the gun is for dealin’ with the three Cs. Critters, Creeps, Crazies, and worst of all raiders.”

“That was four things, and ‘raiders’ starts with an ‘R’...” I pointed out with my well beyond 3rd-grade education shining brightly. My 4th-grade education shone even brighter as I guessed what a raider was. Some stable ponies raided the cafe pantry during off hours for snack cakes… I'm sure the word has the same meaning up here. Ponies that want your stuff! Go me~!

“Fourth piece of advice!” he continued, I see we weren't going to talk about that previous bit I pointed out, were we? “Don’t go bein’ a smartass until after you’re sure they’re your friends.” Yep, that was a little scowl in his voice.

I squinted a little back. “Is it though?” I asked, circling an upward hoof in the air like I was swirling a fine cider made of his questions.

He sighed “No not really..., Infin’ you follow the road here north to Route-10 bankin’ left will take you to Applewood and Los-Pegasus. Bankin’ right will take you straight to New Appaloosa.” The face of the bot turned to vaguely gesture at the length of road before me. “I’m sure Ditzy will be willin’ to sell ya a pea shooter at a discount if you mention I sent ya. Oh an’ ask for one of her survival books, she hands em’ out to anypony who asks. Tells ya about all the hazards out in the wasteland, settlements, and general tips on how to not get yourself killed. Useful stuff.”

“Oh!” I perked. “That would save me all kinds of time with my own book.” I noted down the directions about where to go and this Ditzy pony I was supposed to talk to. Somepony had already done half my job for me! Rampant plagiarism here I come!

“So that's why you been writin’ all this stuff down. I was startin’ to think you were one of those mares that take her diary around wherever she goes.”

I snapped the book shut, squishing the tiny princesses. Little twitchy legs stuck out between the pages as I slid it back into my saddle bag. “Nope! The overmare wants me to take notes on everything up here while I'm fixing the sensor array. Important stuff like if it rains fire or some kind of zombie pony ethnostate took over while we were underground. Ya know, reasons to NOT move up here.”

There was a little pause “Well you're creative I’ll give you that. First time hearin’ one about a ghoul country.” he chuckled while I was busy imagining a bunch of zombie ponies working desk jobs. Skeletons hanging out around the water cooler, somehow drastically less terrifying than the ones outside my stable door.

I smirked a little, feeling an opportunity “I’m many things. You forgot pretty, brain burstingly intelligent, slayer of countless virgins, Fearless…” I tapped a hoof to my chin looking for a finisher. “Oh and humble!” Said virgins were me, myself, and I, but that didn't stop me from standing on my hinds to do little flexes for each of my self-appointed descriptors. Nopony knew me out here, I could self-advertise like I never self-advertised before! Shamelessly!

“Ya squealed like a filly and nearly pissed yourself at the sight of a sprite bot…” watcher two said flatly taking a shot at my newfound boasting.

Aghh! He got me! Right in my delicate unicorn ego! I dropped back to all fours as my shameless self-advertising campaign came crashing down faster than it started. “Please don’t remind me…” I grumbled lowering my head as I felt a tinge of warmth come to my face. “And don’t go telling anypony either!” I pointed at the sprite-bot again. "I don’t want everypony up here calling me a scaredy mare before I ever meet them." For the love of Celestia, this was my blank slate!

“Right, cause it's my mission in life makin’ sure everypony knows that one lil stable mare they’ll likely never meet, much less recognize, is scared of sprite bots” Watcher-Two teased, sounding quite amused.

I groaned “Clearly, you and everypony else if my life has anything to say about it.” yeah, Tulip-Patch would spread that faster than last Friday's applesauce… Or her legs for Bronze. “So what do I do if I get lost out here? I got a map sure, but I'm going to guess Equestria has more than four marker-worthy places in it.” I questioned and tapped on my pip-buck screen while looking at Watcher-Two.

“Easy, These sprite bots are basically everywhere in the wasteland, leftover from some pre-war M.o.M ad campaign or somethin’. If ya ever find one floatin’ around blasin’ their awful trumpet song just run up to it and harass the lil bastard till Watcher picks up the line.” These things were everywhere? How could so many machines be functional after centuries of neglect? “Try to do it away from other ponies though otherwise he's gonna pretend he’s not listening and-”

Suddenly a third voice “Calamity! What’s this I heard about you not washing your hooves?!” A mare, a lovely sounding one at that, yelling a sizeable distance away from the mic, sounded kinda echoey too. “I didn’t make you that sandwich just so you could wear it!”

“Uh-oh..” Watcher-two sounded like he was in trouble. There was a clatter of keys and buttons being pressed. The sprite bot made a string of small screeches, buzzes, and whines before his voice came back. “I uhh, I gotta go n’ do uhh.. husband things. Just don’t forget everything I told ya’ and don’t go gettin’ yerself killed.” he sounded rushed, like somepony was about to walk in on him with a wing-boner mag past his bedtime… not that I could ‘ahem’ relate. The sprite-bot started to drift away

“Wait! Watcher-Two, One last thing?” I had one last question, possibly the most important question that's ever been asked in the history of pony kind. It had been a whole day without needing one. The thought had me squirming in place just thinking about it… try not to think about it. Just use the best winning smile I had at my disposal.

The sprite-bot stopped and turned “Sure, real quick, What is it?” Thank Luna’s lucky ass he’s still there!

I was bouncing on my tippy hooves a little, unable to not think about it now. “Where’s uhh, where’s the bathroom?” I asked, smiling sheepishly. Please tell me nearby! Please tell me nearby!

“Oh, that’s just precious.” Not the answer I wanted to hear! I don’t want to hear him be verbally smug!

“Calamity!” The mare’s voice was much closer. “What did I tell you about not washing your hooves? It’s unsanitary, and you got Spike’s headset all sticky.” The mare scolded while I was busy trying my damndest not to snicker… too loud. Holding a wrist to my mouth like Pickle-Jar usually does helped a lot. “And are you using the Watcher network to talk to strange mares out in the wasteland?” Ohhh he’s in trouble!!

“H-Honey, I can explain! This here’s Sketchy and she’s a stable pony and-” The buck got defensive, which gave me so many ideas I couldn’t help but act on at least one. I just gotta do the accent right to throw her off. He is so going to owe me~

I coughed and waved to the bot. “Well hai Mrs. Watcher-Two’s wife! Yer’ husband was just helpin’ lil ole’ me try and survive out here on the surface. Ah’ ain't ever seen all dis sky stuff before~” I swayed a little on my hooves and got super cute with the accent. Got my eyes big and sparkly plus I even added a few of my patent pending eyelash bats. “He sounds so big, an’ strong, and was just so eager to help a lost lil mare like mahself find muh’ way to the nearest town. He’s been as sweet as ah’ apple cobbler, bless his chivalrous heart. Was actually quite hard gettin’ him tah’ keep the directions straight he was so busy dotin’ about yew. Couldn’t stop talkin’ bout how pretty ya were, how he’s da luckiest buck in da werld, and how much he loves ta snuggle right inta yer neck.” Sweet Celestia this buck’s never gonna walk straight again. Thanks, Dad!~ Chapter four in Dad’s big book of social manipulation, few things are more valued than making a stallion sound like a saint to his wife. I stepped a wee bit closer to the bot and leaned in like I was trying to whisper to her “Iffin’ ya ask me, If ah’ ever had a buck gushin’ like that over me with strangers, I’d have a hard time not presentin’ n’ beggin’ for them foals he said you two was talkin’ bout~” it was a battle to not let my ‘kind-hearted smirk’ evolve into a ‘shit-eating’ smirk.

“I-.. we.. Foals- I mean…” the mare stammered, Bingo!... or was it Checkmate?... Go fuck yourself? Whichever one you were supposed to yell when you won a game with somebody, that one! Chapter four point five, if the wife is on the backpedal drive the nail home. Become the wingmare you’ve always wanted ponies to be for you.

"Yer a real lucky mare ya know that? Oh, the things he said he wanted to do ta’ yew~ How tidy ya kept yerself.” Now, it became a shit-eating grin. “How great ya taste~ though ah’ find it hard to believe a mare taste’s better than wild-pegasus like he claims, but yew are his ‘lil-ambrosia’ as it were?” oh yeah, I’m totally making up for burning down Pinkie’s childhood home. Dad would be so proud! Though now that I think about it, where was all this smooth operator when I needed it before? Everypony, but Dad, usually made me faceplant tripping over my own words, yet I was playing wingmare for this guy I just met via a bot. Was it because they weren't physically here? Cause it was a faceless bot? Maybe it’s because I felt like my actions had no real consequences... huh.

There was a long palpable silence, but the mic was still on given the lack of crackle or song. “Calamity…” There she was! “We're going to have a long talk about the things you say to random mares you find with sprite-bots.” Perfect, now he was in the right kind of trouble. “Now how do you turn this thing off?”

“Oh I uhh... See you later Sketchy. I think it's this one?” said Watcher-two followed by a boop sound.

“No, not that one!” Watcher-One’s voice interjected, but it was too late. The signal cut to static, and a second later with a sharp hiss and sizzle the sprite bot dropped dead on the pavement. Smoke flowed from between the cracks in its casing, smelling of ozone and burnt plastic. Moments later the hoof-ball-sized husk exploded. Not exactly a big explosion but enough to send a few plates and antennae spiraling off into the grass.

Aaaand I lost it. The tiny princesses and I spent Luna knows how long laughing our respective flanks off in the middle of the street. The saint of honesty could get over herself, cause I just brought a lot of joy to that buck’s week. Besiiides, I didn’t lie to actively hurt anyone~ If anything I was loyal for saving Watcher-Two’s ass, and generous for way overcompensating him for the information he gave me. At least I knew where to go now after the array and- “Horseapples!” I stood up and looked at the exploded sprite-bot before my surroundings. Saving his ass had been quite the distraction, but the need was coming back with a vengeance. “He didn’t tell me where the bathroom was!”

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Wingmare(wingstallion)

-everypony needs a wingmare, and what better pony to help range Cupid’s scope than you? When assisting with seduction checks treat the target's attitude towards the original roller as one tier higher.

Quest perk Unlocked: Burning Down the House (rank 1)

-See? Pyromania isn’t all bad, it was probably an accident anyways. Having burned down an important building(s) you've gotten a bit more used to the heat, both literal and legal. +5 fire resistance.