Fallout: Equestria - The Lunar Archives

by Lakeel

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Sex, Fallout, Profanity, Gore, Crossover, Dark, Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 200785

With Stable 83's mine running dry the Equestrian wasteland holds it's only salvation. Fortunately a 'volunteer' has stepped forth to catalogue both it's dangers and wonders. Sketchy should be fine~

A mare with a penchant for the arts, Sketchy imagined many things during her life in stable 83. Landscapes, wonderlands, tastefully drawn bucks and mares. But what she never imagined, was 'volunteering' to leave the Stable. Unfortunately the stable needs somepony to go outside and Sketchy fits the bill. No friends, subjectively useless, and a drain on dwindling resources. It seems artistic talents aren't very appreciated in a stable where the paper ran out decades ago.

A wearer of glasses, drawer of flanks, cleaner of floors, and a faithful Harmonite Sketchy is many things. The first of her generation to get a cutie mark, and now the first to leave the stable. Her quest, to record everything the Equestrian wasteland has to offer, to learn what was lost, and use it to save her stable from consuming itself. Who knows what she'll find in the wasteland?

Published 2023-02-09 22:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-12-17 00:30:47 UTC

Chapter 2: No Masters or Kings.

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Chapter 3: One Year

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.

Chapter 4: Can't we be friends?

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.

Chapter 5: Princess In The Sky

Fallout Equestria: The Lunar Archives
(By: Lakeel)
Chapter 5: Princesses in the Sky.

It’s hard to tell if this day was making my bucket list grow shorter or longer. Seeing the surface of Equestria crossed one off for sure, but everything that's happened since then? Seeing the surface was soon replaced by killing whatever pony or zebra thought it was a good idea to balefire blast every last bathroom out of existence! I spent a good ten minutes running down this road trying to find one without a building in sight.

The moonlight helped as much as it could to let me find a non-burnt down bathroom along the road. In the ever-wise words of the passed ‘Cloudy-Skies’ I was in the middle of ‘Buttfuckistan nowhere’ and I hadn't seen a single building aside from a plywood shack leaning against a sad-looking power pole. All I found was a rusty toolbox, and with no stable, there was no getting the maint-techs to pop it open on the sly. That's not to say I didn’t try to get it open, but finding a spot where it didn’t feel like all the endless chirping field bunnies were watching me was still my first priority.

Tulip would never let it go if she found out I’d devolved to cave-pony levels less than a day after leaving. What would PJ and Bronze think?! I’d be hailed as some kind of savage, or maybe a survivalist extraordinaire for having to go out in the- Oh hey a key!

On one of the only non-rotten posts in this shack hung a lonely key-ring on a nail. “What are the odds somepony was lazy enough…”

The now very dented from repeated pavement beatings toolbox took the key immediately. The mechanism within ground against rust, but the latch popped open. “Yis!” I hoof pumped. “Two hundred years and ponies still leave the keys in the same room as the lock. Isn’t that right, girls?” I asked the tiny princesses that flew into view and silently nodded in agreement. wearing stable maintenance suits, they tried fruitlessly to open the rusted lid. “What about you B-rad?” I hovered the stuffed rad-roach out of my saddle bag and squeezed him.

Squeeeeak~

“Yeah you're probably right, I’d put meal tickets down it's got a hammer in it.” B-rad back in the bag, I stepped out from the shed of shame and set the now unlocked toolbox on the pavement. “Roll the dice aaaand!-” I lifted the lid with a hoof and blinked, perusing the lackluster contents. “Let's see…” One at a time I checked the contents. “Duct tape” Taking that. “A screwdriver which I already have..” tossed it. “A lightbulb?” Tossed with a small shatter on the pavement behind me. “Sockets for a ratchet I don’t have…”

What kind of pony keeps a LOCKED toolbox but not a complete set of tools inside!? There was more of interest under some faded receipts. Seven little bullets, but no gun like Watcher-Two said I needed. At least my pipbuck said they were 9mm rounds. Couldn’t call them quarter-inch rounds or pistol rounds or something simple like that? Just had to be in Prench measurements, didn't it?

Lastly at the very bottom were the remains of a magazine. The cover was faded to hell, but the body was in much better condition. “Please be readable…” I prayed opening it delicately so it didn’t crumble like the previous ones did. “Oh… oh my..” my muzzle got warm and my tiny Celestia put a hoof over her little sister's eyes, Luna doing the same to Celestia immediately after. One page became two, became three, became a centerfold that unfurled to the ground. “Well, h-hello Miss August of 1017… wh-what brings you to a shed like this?” I stammered a little feeling my cheeks curl into a dumb grin as I took in the view, and what a view it was. Faded and tattered at the edges was a full-body pin-up of a salaciously posing unicorn remarkably intact. That devious smirk, her flawlessly groomed sun-orange mane on khaki coat drew my eyes down the image to the arrow-pierced heart cutiemark on her flank. ‘Back on the market again~ find me at Playmare-Manor boys~’ captioned at the bottom.

I coughed. “I’m just gonna… yeah.” I got my book and whistled innocently folding the pre-war treasure back up and oh so casually slid it between the pages. Little Celestia squinted up at me while her sister smirked. “What? You two wanted me to open it! Don’t judge me.” I huffed stowing my book back in its designated saddlebag. I’d just found some pre-war pony’s stash, no wonder there were no actual tools in there. That Miss August though... Wow. I’d really like to meet her and-... oh yeah, she’s probably very.. very dead. Two hundred years dead in fact. And that means not only is she very dead, but she's also old enough to be my 10x grandma… But did that make this centerfold of hers any less hot if I just didn’t think about it? Questions for future Sketchy to figure out!

Pipbuck even said it's worth a hundred caps! How did the pipbuck know that? Back in 83, the little ‘C symbol had been an ‘MT’ for meal tickets. I always thought somepony sat around updating the value roster on the local network like some kind of business pony of old. Was somepony out here doing that too? Watcher-two said that caps were the currency of the wasteland and there’s no way an item would have the same value universally no matter where you were. Could it? Maybe I should actually meet some ponies first before I dive off the deep end of speculative economics. ‘Begone higher thinking’ I thought, manually scattering the thought bubbles above my head into nothingness with a hoof.

It’s still quite dark out here, the moon grew higher, and my pipbuck said it was a quarter past ten. Normally I’d be in my room right now, doodling or writing away till I got tired enough to pass out. I wonder what everypony else did today? Was the daily cycle thrown off by my departure this morning? Or did it continue as if I'd left? What was Dad up to? Maybe he was staring at the stable door waiting for me to come back… or maybe he went to bed an hour ago. Did PJ drag Tulip off to start picking her brain like she said she would? And what are Tulip and Bronze up-... yeah no Tulip is definitely getting railed stupid by Bronze right now. I sighed and glared into the dark distance ahead of me “Which reminds me… Where am I gonna sleep tonight?”

As nice as the moonlight was, I’m tired, and Luna’s domain beckoned me to whatever nightmare she prepared from today’s events. I know back in surface class they mentioned something about a ‘camping’ thing ponies did for fun. Though, I currently lack a tent, marshmallows, sleeping bag, or friends to push the set-up onto while I wander off to get firewood. Ya know, so I can be taken out by an Ax-murderer. “Luna damn it..” I groaned squinting further down the road for anywhere I could spend the night in comf-

There was a flicker of light just down the road, small and wavering just like the house I torched. Was that a campfire?! Real honest to goddesses ponies!? Finally, an opportunity to flex my social skills and make friends. I ran a hoof through my mane to straighten it up a little and got trotting, social interaction here I come!

***

There were three of them gathered around the campfire. The little princesses and I peered from behind an old concrete barrier beyond the wavering light of the less ‘camp’ more ‘trash’ fire. Social interaction seemed like such a good idea a mile ago, but that highly motivated trek over here got me thinking. For one, social interaction would probably involve me starting the conversation. I never do that! What if I screw it up?! It was my goddess-given right to have everypony other than me initiate the conversations, that way the anxiety doesn't kill- oh hey they’re talking! Crouch harder!

The trio looked quite similar, all three earth-bucks had tattered clothes, puke green coats, and filthy blonde manes worse off than mine was before PJ’s intervention. I’m going to guess brothers.

Bigguns with a gray brick stamped on his ass was definitely the eldest. “I’m telling you guys that there's another one of them roaming around out here. Saw 'em roaming around near the poster shack.” the eldest spoke pointing a hoof to his presumed little brothers.

“There ain't no way they’re ALL as dangerous as you keep saying they are. Most of em’ can't even hold a gun straight, it's why they keep getting wiped out.” The middle brother retorted while wiping the world's grimiest rag along a vaguely gun-shaped amalgam of pipes and screws. His mark was the least inspired thing I think I’ve ever seen.. a singular.. gray.. rock. Just a rock… No cracks, no sword sticking out of it, nothing. “The Lightbringer, Security, the ghost, and even Lord Jerry-Can McKillsAlot or whatever his titles were are all exceptions to the rule, not the standard.”

“Yeah bro, It's really hard to believe every single one of them is some kind of monstrous badass, they’ve got like… a what? 80% losing streak?” The youngest chimed in meekly tapping his forehooves together with an equally meek smile. He seemed the cleanest of the three, barely, his flank planted firmly on a cinderblock. Brothers called it! Youngest had an ‘S’ of small rocks for a cutiemark and overall he looked… Wow, even I could break him in half.

The eldest rolled his eyes. “I never said all of them were indestructible bonafide badasses, okay. Half of ‘em are dead! I’m just saying, there are signs that will usually tell ya whether they’re the helpless ‘please rob me’ type or the kind that turns you into paint.” I’d like some paint…

“Oh oh! I know the first one!!” The youngest raised his hoof with more energy than his frame should be able to justify. “Number one is that they look like a walking armory right?” he smiled with MOST of his teeth.

The eldest slowly clapped his hooves. “Yeah, real hard to miss sign there Pebble… really hard to miss.” Mmmm tasty sarcasm.

“Alright then smartass, what’s your version of the rules then? Does it involve bucking em’ a few times to see how fast they break?” the middle chided, putting the butt of the pipe-rifle-thing to the ground and using it to lean on while he sat there. “Side point, is there any version of the word buck you don’t do as frequently as possible?”

“Yeah, the version of ‘buck’ where I buck a dictionary at you next time we find one.” the biggest threatened.

“Thesaurus..” The Pebble added, hoof raised again.

“Shut up Pebble…” the big one deadpanned, “Goddess damned nerd.. bucked in the head.. Talkin’ bout dinosaurs…” he grumbled, facehoofing while Pebble slowly lowered his hoof. “Rule number TWO to tell the helpless from the dangerous. If you see more than one they’re helpless nigh every time. Rule two point five! If you see only one of them, but they are traveling with a group, they’re usually dangerous.”

Pebble raised a hoof again. “What about-”

“Rule two point seventy-five!!” He plowed right through his little brother's question. “If you find one truly alone, with nopony else around… ehh it's a tossup at that point.”

“You’re making this sound real easy Brick. Like... What if one isn't wearing the usual getup?” Pebble pointed out the gaping hole in his brother's logic.

“Nope, my method is flawless, they Always ALWAYS wear the suits. Never seen one without one. I’d probably wear one too if we could get one without HOLES IN IT!” he looked to the middle brother in particular at the mention of holes. “Those things are probably all kinds of breathable in just the right places.”

‘Fiiine, I’ll let ‘em stab you next time, See how fast the mighty Brick begs for help when I don’t shoot one.” The middle folded his hooves indignantly.

Brick rolled his eyes and gruffed in his deep voice “Aaaand you’d be fucked Rocky, you and little Pebble over there. Seriously, what would you two do without me leading the way?”

“Well not starve for one, actually make it to Old Appalusa for two, and-” Rocky started counting off on his hoof.. and after number one resorted to doing little hoof waves for the rest.

Pebble groaned and I could just barely hear his stomach from over here. “Really wish we’d find one of the helpless kinds, would be nice to eat more than once this week.”

Ohohoh! Perfect conversation starter right there! I had food, they needed food, I needed friends, and they are possible friend material! It's perfect! I finally uncrouched to fully look over the barrier “Maybe I can help with that!”

In a split second Rocky swung his pipe-rifle down and bit a metal piece sticking out the side- BANG!! The air cracked with possibly the loudest thing I’d ever heard, like I was standing next to a rock-breaker exploding. I stood there, hoof halfway up in the air frozen mid wave I just started… when I sloooowly looked down. There, just a little off to my right was hoof sized crater in the concrete barrier. The breath slowly escaped my lungs in a long drawn-out wheeze as I stared at the impact spot. I almost fucking died… Like it was nothing! A foot to the right and a few inches higher and I wouldn’t have a chest anymore.

“Who the fuck’s there?!” Rocky yelled leveling that rifle in my general direction, the other two stood to attention. Pebble grabbed a stick in his teeth and Brick was his own weapon.

Nopony would blame me if I crouched back behind the barricade and took a second to have a small heart attack. “Sweet fucking Celestia don’t shoot me!! I just wanted to say Hi!” I screamed.. internally.. wait no, that was quite external in fact. I covered my head with my hooves as if they’d somehow keep me from getting blown away.

“Why you sneakin’ around then? Here to steal our shit?! Ain't nopony takes our stuff!” Brick threatened kicking some of the gravelly dirt with his hooves like he was ready to charge me.

This is why I don't start conversations! This is the shit that happens! I needed to diffuse the situation fast otherwise I’m really going to die on my first day. “I-I don’t want your stuff! Q-Quite the opposite in fact. Overheard you guys were starving and I was gonna share what I had!” See I could be reasonable! Cowering under my hooves was just part of my ‘I’m harmless’ tactic… yeah let's go with that.

“Buuuullshit!” Brick called from the camp and my gut sank. “Nopony out here gives stuff out for free. We ain't got nothing to trade or take.” Oh no, why is my first attempt at charity biting me in the ass!

“You with one of them sneaky gangs? How bout the rest of you cowards come on out here and stick us up like actual raiders!?” Rocky yelled, and I couldn’t see how but I heard the metallic click, ping, and sliding of rusty metal that must have been him reloading.

“I’m not with anypony!! I’m just trying to be niiiice!” I called back refusing to come up from the safety of my two-century-old barricade. “Don’t fucking kill meehehehe!!” I’m not crying, they're crying!

“She erm… guys? I don't think she's lyin’.” Pebble interjected around his self-defense stick, looking at his brothers questioningly.

“She's definitely lyin’!” Brick retorted.

“No seriously, I-If she was with one of them sneak gangs, why’d she reveal herself rather than just shoot us from such close range? In fact, If she managed to get that close, why aren't we being held up by half a dozen other ponies right now?” Thank the princesses Pebble is the smart one!

“Yeah what he said!” I pointed out briefly raising a hoof above the barricade to emphasize my- his- OUR point!

“Even if she's a solo act, there’s no way a thief would just blow her cover like that,” Pebble added.

“Listen to your little brother!” I added more by doing a little hoof wave in Pebble’s general direction.

“Hey, how'd you know we were brothers?” Brick questioned and I could hear the glare in his voice aimed directly at the barricade he might just buck over with ease.

“S-seriously? That's what you're concerned about?” I asked, retracting my hoof and staying flush with the concrete. “Well, I’ve been here for like half an hour, so that helps! All three of you look the same, Pebble called you bro, and all of you have rock-themed names! Discord’s dick in a beehive, how could you not be brothers?!”

“The hell’s a beehive?” Brick asked after a little pause.

“I think she’s referring to pre-war honeybees Brick… ya know, Rad-Bees?” Pebble answered for me. “Its where phrase kicked the hornet's nest comes fr-”

“Alright, alright we get it. We all know you’re a nerd and you can read. But what do pre-war bees have to do with… hey wait a minute.” he paused, massive gears finally turning. “Hey, you there, behind the concrete. You a ghoul?”

“A what?” I answered faster than I could think. I’m not a zombie from those ancient comics, nor am I a mushroom head from that crappily made ‘Just-Say-Neigh’ film we watched in third grade.

“Did she really just say ‘a what?’” Rocky’s tone made me feel his eyebrow rise with his voice, followed by a few clinks of the gun being shifted around. “Just.. get out here, I’m not gonna blow yer head off.”

“O-Okay…” With the tin-foil olive branch extended I slowly got back up onto my hooves and looked to the brothers. “H-Hi?” I squeaked and smiled now in full view, rapidly taking note that the rifle wasn't pointed at me anymore.

There was a long silence where they looked at me followed by Rocky and Pebble slowly turning their heads to glare at Brick who was standing there halfway through ripping up a small dead tree in his teeth… which he promptly dropped. “What?..”

“You just had to say somethin’ about stable dwellers didn’t ya?!” Rocky barked at the eldest. “Ya just had to go talking about em’ and all of a sudden one shows up at our camp? Holy horseapples is this family cursed?!”

The two of them quickly fell into a back-and-forth altercation over all the bad things that kept happening to the trio the past week. Something about Brick knocking over a rack of mirrors at some ruined store? Either way, I steadily stepped out from behind the barrier and into the firelight. Pebble looked me over as I approached, scanning for danger. We kinda just stared at each other for a while. I wasn’t a telepath, but somehow just awkwardly staring like this conveyed all kinds of information. “Sketchy…”

“Pebble-Path…” he answered simply, and a small idea hit me.

My horn glowed its amber and with minimal recoil from Pebble-Path, I pulled out one of my cans. “Canned taco?” I offered, shaking the can a little, feeling its weight in my magical grip.

“That would be nice,” he answered, starting to smile. Rocky and Brick paused their argument to stare at the can as well. These little ponies were hungry.

***

The moon had risen another hoof’s worth into the sky while we got cozy around the trash fire. “So let me get this straight.” I started, jamming a fork into the open taco can before hovering it over the Pebble. “Your mom had a theme going here. You’re Pebble-Path.” I pointed a free hoof to Pebble, who like me was sitting on a cinderblock eating white-wonder-ball out of the can.

“Mmhm” he answered muffled by fork and taco.

“You’re Rocky-Road..” I pointed to the one who nearly SHOT ME!! He was chill now though.

He nodded “Yep…” Rocky spent most of the time sitting there silently looking over on occasion. He did seem the cautious one of the trio.

I moved to the last. “And I’m going to guess based on the theme here… Brick-Boulevard?” I beamed hoping I was right.

“No.. It’s just Brick.” He glowered. Brick too had been looking me over, but more in a way that seemed like he still wanted to hit me with that dead tree he uprooted. I’m sure it was fine though. The Eyes-Forward-Sparkle marked Pebble in green and the other two in yellow, which was distinctly not red! So I’m fiiine~

“Seriously? Feels like a missed opportunity. Alliteration and the rule of three are a hell of a writing device. Hardstone-Highway, Stone-Street, Cobble-Causeway.” these all seemed like fitting names to me at least, some of them even worked if the trio had sisters.

Pebble gulped a wad of hastily forked taco. “Nope, He was the first, and Mom hadn’t had the idea yet.” He passed the can over to Rocky who didn’t take it as he was glancing between me and Brick in silence. If he didn’t want to eat that fast it was fine by me, the canned taco wasn’t going anywhere.

Rocky did speak up though. “What about you? Sketchy was it? Is like your parents were several seconds away from namin’ you Shifty da shady unicorn or somethin’.”

I chuckled a bit and sighed, rubbing the back of my mane with a hoof. “Well, I hope it wasn’t anything like that. I like to think It was because they wanted me to be able to draw stuff.” I took it upon myself to hover over a twig and draw a near-perfect circle in the sandy dirt. “See?”

“Guessin’ yer one of them artsy types like the aristocrats over in Applewood?” Brick asked with a small huff of his big nostrils.

“The aristi-whats?” Where did I know that word from? Sounded like one of those super fancy words that get used in context with the nobles mentioned in history class.

Rocky shifted his jaw into what was clearly his thinking face. “How long did you say you been out here?”

“About a day I guess. Why?” I shrugged looking down at the can. “Hey, are you gonna eat that? You guys did say you hadn’t eaten in days right?” I asked, pointing to the can still sitting there.

“Oh, we will.” Brick smiled confidently, or was that a smirk? “We just wanted to ask about a few-” he tensed and looked off into the distance. “Hey did you hear that?”

I blinked. “Hear what?” my ears twitched, I didn’t hear anything other than the campfire, the wind, and the occasional bunny chirp.

Pebble looked between his older brothers. “Guys… please don’t. She-”

Like usual Brick steamrolled right through his little brother's dialogue. “No, no seriously shut up Pebble. I’m pretty sure I hear something out in the dark.” The buck stood up and walked a bit closer as he scanned off into the distance behind me. “You sure nopony was following you when you headed down the road?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I mean I met this talking sprite-bot thing, but nopony came with me.” I started to look back behind me into the darkness I’d previously hidden in. “Why? Do you think someone followed-”

“Brick! No!” Cried Pebble right as I heard a heave next to me. Something was up, but the back of my head exploded into thought-shattering pain with a stony crack. My mind said scream, but my mouth wasn’t listening nor much of anything else for that matter. The ground rapidly approached my face and blurred into darkness.

***

It was dark, everything was dark in here really. An infinite expanse of pitch blackness as far as my eyes could see. The back of my head was throbbing though and raising my hoof to hold it revealed I could still see myself just fine. Like I was standing in the sunlight, that, and my glasses were gone, but my hoof was crispy clear in front of my face. “Oookay…” my voice echoed in the black expanse.

I took a step and while I felt solid ground it didn’t make a sound. No clop of stone, nor rustle of grass or sand. “Huh…” also echoed around me as I thought it

“Alright Brain, this would be a super neat dream if it wasn’t for the splitting headache you’re giving me right now. The buck happened?”

Echoing in from all sides came this whimsical giggle of some buck. “Ohhh I dunno my dear little Sketchy, why don't you draw the feeling and see if what knocked you out comes to mind? Hmmm? Ten bits says it was a brick upside the head.” the voice giggled, at my expense!

I looked around trying to spot the origin. “Who are you? Is that you Brain?! When I said I would fight you I didn’t think you were gonna drag me into my own head.” I huffed stamping a hoof to be met with no sound. The darkness that made up the floor seemed to ripple as water outwards into oblivion before returning with a very delayed clop of hoof on stone.

“Ohhh so close! But no cigar my little pony. Brain and I are just the oldest bestie best pals though. One of my best prank buddies since before you were born, my adorably tenacious little bastard~” the mysterious buck giggled. “Ohh that would be a great name for an adult version of this show! I can see the merchandise now~”

I glared into the darkness. “Firstly, what show? And secondly, I’m not a bastard. I’m obviously a mare and female bastards don't exist!” I pointed at the void ahead of me assuming the origin was there.

“Ten seasons and Two hundred years, yet still such regressive ways of thinking! Oh, how ponies have fallen from the socially progressive dogma they tout so proudly~” The whimsy feigned balking at my response. “I, on the other hand, feel the term should apply to everypony equally! A real equal opportunity bastardizer if you will. So much less sexist don’t you think? Really boost my ratings around here.”

“No..” I grumbled. “Pretty sure it was the nobles who came up with the term, take it up with them. ”

“Daww but that’s no fuuun~” he whined. “If I wanted to go talk to ponies that were full of themselves I’d go harass Rainbow Dash. No, I wanna have fun you youuuu~ After all, I’m about as much a part of you as microplastics were part of your great-great-great-” His voice rose in pitch with each great. “-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Grandparents!” he squeaked. “And lead from the paint chips their parents ate and the mercury their parents got from wearing fancy hats driving them mad Hahaa!~ I should pay Hatter a visit, it's been centuries, and he’s so fun at tea parties.”

“You’re a part of me? Like I have a pretty good idea that this is a dream and all, but this isn't going to be one of those psychological manifestations of my inner flaws things is it? Cause I have Pickle-Jar for that now.” I asked feeling gentle nudges about my person making me shift in place, my hips felt lighter.

“I’d answer that question with some kind of obscenely cryptic and open-ended riddle you wouldn’t understand for the next thirty or so chapters buuuut~” the void started ringing. “Would you look at that? Somepony’s got a collect call, maybe you should answer that? Don’t worry I’ll only eavesdrop a little~ Wouldn’t want to be ruuude.” he chimed before a rusted-out blue box with windows and a phone inside poofed into existence in front of me. Finally some substance to this void.

“The hell is this thing?” I asked as I only recognized one component of this contraption.

“Clearly an interdimensional space-time traveling device for ponies with doctorates and angel statue masons,” he answered with an explanation but I had NO IDEA what he was talking about and I made sure it showed on my face with a scowl. There was a new faint weight on my person like something laying over me.

The mysterious booth disappeared in a cloud of static and smoke before the voice spoke again. “As much as I want to see you fiddle around with a massive reference to nowhere we are on a bit of a timetable,” he added and the sound of a ticking clock rang in. “Guess I have to let Miss pouty-pants do this HER way~” he whined and with a brief brush of wind past my coat the voice was gone.

“Hello?” I looked around the void as all was silent once more. “Who the hell was that? What the hell was he talking about, when the hell did I even get here?! Where the hell even am I? And Why the hell am I here?” I questioned both myself and the nothingness. Who, what, when, where, and why were always good starting points.

A new voice, a gentler voice, a mare’s voice. “You need to wake up Sketchy.” echoed in from the void, a gentle breeze on my coat, the ichor ground rippling in tune to the voice.

“Ohh mysterious… I like it.” I commented and walked further into the void, wondering if the ripples went on forever. “I’d be working on that whole waking up thing, buuuut this…” I waved vaguely at the void. “what I assume is a dream, didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

“Dreams never do. Even masters of lucidity rarely have the control to jar themselves awake, especially when forcibly knocked unconscious.” the new voice echoed once more.

I pondered how I could force myself awake. “I take it squinting my eyes really hard and straining every muscle like I’m trying to force a spell won’t work? More likely to crap myself than wake up.”

“Correct... Don’t think anypony would want to after such an experience. But you need to awaken, embarrassing accident or not.”

“Oookay…” I started as black goop began to bubble up from the floor and drift away into the air around me. “Before I get to accidentally shitting myself, why in Celestia’s titanic tits is this place so weird?”

“They aren't that-'' her tone rose like I struck a nerve, but quickly cut to a little cough. “That's not important right now. Your life is in danger and your dream is weird because your mind didn’t have time to prepare anything due to the sudden concussion.”

“So I did get bricked! By a Brick… with a brick!” I pointed out and giggled to myself a bit. Heh… brick~.

The voice sighed and tapped a hoof on tile flooring, or at least it sounded like tile. “Focus Sketchy, Your life is literally in peril and you’re getting distracted by irony. You need to force yourself awake with haste!”

“Me? In danger? Pleeeaase~ Pebble and his brothers seemed so nice. All gathered round the trash fire, about to sing trash-fire songs, and eat canned food.” I smiled having vague memories of doing exactly that, though it made my head throb.

I heard the all too familiar sound of a facehoof followed by an agitated sigh and mumbling “It’s okay… you’ve handled worse, it’s probably only a little bit of brain damage.”

“Hey! I’m not dain bramaged!” I pointed up at the inky sky where it seemed that voice was coming from.

“The one who helped me get here would love to say otherwise.” the mystery mare groaned.

“That's Meeee!~” Nearly squealed the original male voice from off to the right. Left? Up?

“Sketchy?” the mare started again.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you just say this Brick pony bashed you over the head with a brick?”

“Maybe…”

“Wouldn’t it stand to reason that maybe Brick didn’t have the best of intentions towards your well-being?”

I paused and a faint ticking echoed around me and reverberated off unseen walls. “Oh yeah…” I plopped down onto my rear. “Brick’s EFS never did turn green did it?”

“Now she gets it! First gold star she’s gotten since third grade.” the mystery bucks voice chimed in as a little golden star sticker appeared on my nose. “Boop!~”

“Ack!” After several seconds of trying to scrape the sticker off my nose it dissolved into mist. “Okay okay! I’m gonna try to wake up.”

“Try not to mess yourself on the nice clean floors~” the male teased.

I closed my eyes tight and began to focus, The same level of focus I had when I contemplated the idea of actually studying for something. My front was down to the ground now too as I held my temples and strained. “Hnnnnn!!” I groaned until-

‘PFFT!~’

My eyes shot wide and my muzzle got warm while the whimsical male voice burst into laughter, even heard the thump of a hoof/hand being slammed on the floor.

“Seriously?!” Yelled the mare. “We're trying to save her life here and you woopie-cushion her!?” she growled.

“The opportunity was just too golden dearie, you’d make that sound too if you and your sister ever got the sticks out of your butts,” he said through the dying fit of giggles. “I get the feeling you two just like it in there.”

“So that was him and not me, right?” I asked sitting up.

“Yes, fortunately.” the mare groaned.

“Oh thank the goddesses. I didn’t shit my brains out.” I sighed in relief.

The buck’s voice made a few barely contained snorts and snerks before the mare resumed. “Right, so it seems focusing you awake isn’t going to work with SOMEBODY around messing with you. Time for plan C.”

I raised a hoof. “What happened to plan B?”

“Plan B was going to involve trance-like meditation, but given the natures both you and our associate share, you’d be too busy snickering about ‘plan b’ to do that.”

The buck and I caved instantly and snickered like foals. “Well, I wasn’t until you mentioned it like that!” I added.

“Sister give my strength…” the mare groaned. “Plan C is to scare you awake.”

“Oookay… isn't the whole point of scaring somepony awake that they don’t know it's coming? Now that you’ve said it, and I know this is a dream, it's going to be really hard for anything to be scary.” I questioned remembering how unscary Nightmare’s-Night was every year.

“Trust me that’s been more than accounted for.” she sounded rather proud for once.

“How so?” I squinted. There was no way this was going to turn out well. For me at least.

“Simple. I just need you to turn around while I get the actual shock put together. Just a smidge of something you’re afraid of and it’ll be perfect.” Gee, way to make fear sound like a cookbook. “Trust me I’m an expert.”

I started to turn around. “Riight cause how could you possibly know that? By the way, who are you two? I just-” Ah yes, the sudden gut-wrenching terror of having a slavering pony-sized spider mach-4 skittering at me the instant I turned around. So many fuzzy legs and mandibles moving way too fast! I opened my mouth to scream like a filly right as it leaped at my face! “AHHH-”

***

My eyes shot open, my head was hammering, my heart thundering, and my glasses were still on my muzzle FOR ONCE! It took a moment to pull all my senses together. Off to either side of my snoot were two halves of a shattered brick in the sandy dirt. Even further apart were a pair of large hooves with dirty puke-green felt locks. Huh, that meant somepony was above me… Kinky- wait no! Not kinky! Focus brain, you’re in danger! I hadn’t noticed the ringing in my ears until it began to dissipate, turning distant mumbling into coherent words. The brothers were arguing.

“Seriously guys?! After she was willing to share her food with us? She was cool!” sounded like Pebble-path was more upset about the situation than my half-awake butt was. For now.

There was a deep huff from above, which sounded like Brick. “Yeah and? Think of the bigger picture here. If we kill her and take her stuff not only do we get her food, but she’s big enough to feed us for at least another two weeks!” Feed them for another two weeks? How did-

“Not if ya go breakin’ her like a new toy Brick! Aint no spices ever gonna-!” Rocky’s retort fell to the ringing in my ears... They were going to eat me? He was right over me and- Ohhhh Fuck me I realize the situation I’m in now.. Wait no! Don’t fuck me! Don’t eat me!

A certain plus-sized buck was still over me and fortunately not trying to bite my ass yet. I’ve always wanted to be under a big stallion, but sweet Celestia NOT! LIKE! THIS! Gotta think, gotta act, gotta think, gotta act! I need a weapon, anything!

“How is that possibly going to ruin eating her for you? She's not a mutfruit, nor is she gonna bruise like a nanner.” Brick snapped back looking at his middle brother.

“No, I'm just sayin’ I don’t want to eat her after ya’ used her. I mean, would you eat a dandelion sammich after I put my dick in it? Left plenty of sauce in ‘er too before I gave it to ya?” They were seriously arguing over the ethos of eating a mare after plowing her? Wait a-.. these guys are goddess-damned cannibals! Just like the comics! But worse because they weren't zombies!

“Is that what you thought I was gonna do to her?! Right infront of both of ya?!” Brick balked at his brothers. Okay, he was distracted, I gotta do something now!

They’d taken my saddlebags and dumped the contents just a few feet away. I could hit him with the brick pieces, it would be ironic, but there’s no way I’d knock him out before he stomped my guts in. Anything from my bag? There’s my pencil! It had a pointy bit on it! Maybe if I jab him with it, he’ll think I’m crazy enough to be left alone. Flawless plan! Now, what was that first thing Appleboom taught us in sex-ed?

“Okay boys and girls. Lesson one. If the need to defend yourself from a stallion ever arises always remember, your first line of defense is to buck him in the bits.” her voice echoed in the back of my mind, reminding me of all the wincing colts that heard that. Thanks, Miss Appleboom!

“I don’t care if ya trussed her up like a turkey and slow-roasted her wrapped in zebra bacon! We ain’t eatin’ er like that! Ain't that right Pebble?” Sweet, Rocky was looking away too.

“Can’t we just let her go? She was nice to us.” Pebble whined.

“Complain all you two want, It’ll just be two weeks' worth of lawn-pony for me then.” Gruffed Brick, still intent on eating me. “And when ya starve and whine to me I might give ya her hooves.”

Now was the time to strike. Mustering my focus past the throbbing pain in the back of my head my horn glowed and I wreathed the pencil in my telekinesis hovering it over.

“You ain’t starving your brothers like- Oh buck she’s awake!!” Rocky reached for his rifle too late. I'd gotten the pencil between my head and the underside of Brick’s jaw. I reared a hind hoof and with all the force I could muster bucked just like Miss-Appleboom showed us. If below, angle high.

Brick let out the highest pitch yelp his deep voice could muster and halfway collapsed beginning a string of strained profanities. With him recoiling in pain I twisted to face upwards. Roaring I drove my hoof up into the pencil’s eraser. My hoof rammed sharpened lead up into the buck’s throat. I… I’d wanted to stab him in the shoulder as a warning or something. What I’d gotten was a wooden stake being driven right into Brick’s windpipe. I must have hit something important as thick red started gushing around the pencil.

Brick stumbled off of me, torn between collapsing to hold his battered junk and pawing at the pencil currently sticking out his spewing neck. “Ackkkfuuccss eeng! Kuukkill herrr!!” he managed to sputter, red beginning to pour from the corners of his mouth too. I, like any reasonable mare who just stabbed somepony, skittered to the nearest thing resembling cover!

“Brick!” Pebble cried dashing over to his brother.

I heard the racking of a round. “Die bitch!!” Rocky yelled followed by the hasty lowering of his pipe rifle and the ‘POOM!!’ of high caliber equalizer going off. Sand kicked up next to me as I dove and rolled for the stray concrete barriers that’d saved my life earlier.

I clung to the ‘safe’ side of the stony surface, staying in the cover as best I could. Little red letters at the top of my vision read out [Detected] while the EFS said there were two hostiles near me. No shit pipbuck! I know I've been detected! [Enemies Nearby]. “Now is not the time for you to be sassing me!” I whisper yelled at the glorified wrist-terminal, tapping buttons trying to find anything useful that could save my flank. Rocky was firing off shots into the barrier making me wince every time he took a chunk out of it. “Eep!” I squeaked when a hole opened up in the barrier a few inches from my nose. “Help meee!! Have some secret kill everypony program! An SOS signal, a road flare! Explode! Something!” I was unarmed, all my possessions except my suit were on the ground out of reach, and there was a pony with a big scary gun blasting big scary holes in the only thing for miles that could stop bigger scarier holes from being made in me. Goddesses help mehehee!

A chittering... A chittering made me look up from my pipbuck screen. A green blip appeared, then two, then five, a dozen, several dozen, and soon it became a solid line of green as the grass rustled all around the camp in the dark. Everypony, except Brick, looked around as the chittering grew into a chorus.

“What in hey…” Rocky started.

“Wh-what's that?” Pebble asked, looking around and being the most afraid of the three. His hooves holding a very bloody Brick’s neck.

“Kssst..foom..” I had no idea what Brick said he was coughing up so much crimson.

The darkness beyond the campfire seemed to move and writhe, while off in the distance atop a lone boulder illuminated in a green light was a singular… glowing… radroach.

I stared at the new arrival. “Discord’s mayhem, what now?”

The glowing roach spread its wings and raised its front legs high. It chittered, sending its tiny mandible into a flurry of incomprehensible sounds.

The bottom of my vision lit up with green letters.

(King B-Rad: “Defend the great provider!!!” )

Subtitles… the radroach had subtitles! How hard did Brick brick me in the head?! Am I going nuts? Maybe that mystery voice was right and I do have dain bramage!

The black mass around the camp began to spill inward in a tidal wave of chitin. Seeing an absolute carpet of radroaches come pouring out of the night towards you was possibly going to haunt me for the rest of my life. What's worse is they all chittered in unison!

(Radroaches: “For the provider!! Skreeeeee!!”)

The carpet of semi-solid NIGHTMARE parted around me, flooding into the camp from all directions. Many took flight, and as everypony in 83 knows, ‘everypony’s gangsta till the radroaches start flyin’. The brothers quite justifiably screamed bloody murder as they were swarmed, at least the two that could scream. Pebble and Rocky were sent running, being immediately overwhelmed by the mass of Hoofball-sized biting insects. Brick less fortunately, was still gushing out the neck, he only made it a few steps before collapsing under the chitinous horde. Rasping and gurgling.

I peered over the edge of the barricade to catch the final glimpses of Rocky and Pebble-path galloping off into the night being chased by the swarm, the occasional gunshot going off further and further away. This… this is the crap that makes ponies afraid of roaches. Speaking of which…

I turned from the barrier and looked down to find the glowing radroach my pipbuck named ‘King Brad’ sitting there… staring at me. I blinked in the pregnant pause building between us and coughed before the pause could be declared triplets. “I umm… thanks? Please tell me roaches speak Ponish.”

He chittered and the subtitles appeared again. “Thou art welcome dear provider! We were quite concerned when you bravely approached such obviously nefarious individuals!” This was quite the expressive radroach, waving his front legs around like little arms.

“Nefarious individuals?... ohh right they were going to rob and eat me.” Ughh my head was really throbbing. Reaching a hoof back to rub at the aching spot. “But why did you erm.. S-save me?” I might as well try to make sense of this obvious sign of brain damage.

“Isn’t that obvious, dear provider?” King-Brad chittered. “It was the least we could do after everything thou hast done for us over the generations!” He waved a little leg to emphasize. “I have to say even a noble heart as steeled as mine was moved by your generosity in the face of such danger. Such heroic deeds, to aid the desperate even if they are the lowest and most vile of thine ageless kind!”

By the tenacity of Clelestia’s shoe maker this is a grandiose bug. He talked like he fell out of a history book. Not only did these pipbuck-looking subtitles say his name was KING Brad, but I half expected him to suddenly invite me to his roach castle! Maybe take me to rad-roach dinner. Sit around eating cardboard and apple cores on silver plates. King Brad was probably gonna… wait a minute. I squinted looking him over real quick “You’re King Brad right?”

He bowed, and by bow I mean he lowered his front half and did a fancy bug leg courtesy. “That is I oh glorious provider. How humble art I that you knowest my name, and we hath not spoken previously.”

“Riiiight…” I glanced around briefly, slowly feeling crushed under all the praise. Nobody ever talked to me like this, what am I supposed to do with all this positive reinforcement?! Hovering my satchel back over along with the pile of its former contents I brought forth B-Rad and gave the stuffed roach a little squeeze.

Squeeeak~

“Is uhh… is this you?” I asked, trying to bury the social awkwardness under a smile. The name was too similar NOT to ask.

“Oh-ho!” he exclaimed. “I see you have found the effigy of mine ancestors. Truly thou art blessed great provider. Others of your kind made it after my great great-” for the love of Luna’s divine ass not him too! How many greats are there?! “-great grandsire saved a foal from being eaten by those diabolical barbarous cave crickets” He shook a foreleg like a tiny fist in the air at the mention of…whatever the hell a cricket was.

Now I had to figure out what a cricket was, that or my concussed brain was making up words now. I slowly raised a hoof and opened my mouth to ask when he resumed.

“Since you left your burrow me and my noble entourage hath been in quite the mexicolt standoff defending thine honor against the crickets. Voracious pony eaters, the savages, not content with the bounty of nature's grasses they were so clearly made to eat.” my blank stare, silence, and deliberately slow blink seemed to get the point across that I had no idea what he was talking about. “In fairness, thou hast only ever seen one of them if I recall. Look quite similar to us except they hop around.”

“Ohh! The bunnies!” I pointed out getting excited for a second before my head throbbed. “Owww..” I groaned, dropping a bit to hold my probably cracked skull.

I swear this glowing roach just blinked at me. “Provider… there is no way in the pits of Tartarus what you saw was a bunny. We!” he vaguely gestures to the swarm.. and me. “Would all be deader than the grass upon which thou parketh thine ass.”

“But..but… They’re small, live in grass, and hop around! Like a bunny.”

“Provider” Brad deadpanned. “I believe nobody has informed thee of this but… bunnies have fur.” he pointed at me. “And crickets have chitin…” he points at himself. “Very different, much deadlier.”

“Okay, okay I get it,” I grumbled sitting up a bit more as the back of my head pulsed. “But if these ‘crickets’ are so dangerous that you've been warding them off this whole time, how come they didn't attack the rock brothers like-” I paused, feeling a cold wave of dread wash over me. Brick was still a few yards away laying limp on the ground, bloody pencil jutting out of his neck dripping a trickle of crimson into a pool. Please be alive, please be alive, please be alive! “Please tell me he’s alive.” He wasn't moving in the slightest, not a sound, not a breath.

“He’s alive.” chittered Brad skittering over next to me facing the perfectly still buck.

“Oh thank Celestia.” I sighed as a massive weight just fell right off my chest. For a second there I thought I killed somepony. I’d kick him in the dick and stab him a little sure but not kill him! I’m not a murderer-

Brad tilted/looked up at me. “Art there any other blatant falsehoods thou wishest me to say aloud, dear provider?”

Aaaaand heart attack! I wheezed as the weight in my chest came back with a vengeance like it bashed a hole through my rib cage. “Oh buck HE’S DEAD?!” I cried, hooves pulling at my mane. My lungs fought my every order as I saw the gates of the Everafter slam shut before my very eyes. Sweet Celestia, I killed a pony! AHH!!

Brad looked to a nearby non-glowing roach and motioned him over to the body. Said roach skittered onto Brick’s corpse, looked for a second, tapped the patchy pelt with its tiny legs, and made a small chitter nodding. “The oversized brigand’s ass is indeed thine grass… that is how the phrase goes correct?” The casual tone of Brad’s chitters was not helping me get over being a murderer!

My lungs heaved and I fell back onto my rear. I killed him, I killed a pony, He was going to eat me and I killed him! This reactor coolant trip isn’t fun anymore! This was just a nightmare, right? I’d never kill anypony, It’s bad enough I have to explain my hobbies to the princesses when I die, but how could I explain murder?!

“Provider? Art thou alright?” a concerned chitter came from Brad. “I understand everyone's first kill is quite the undertaking, But If it makes thine’s feelings less bad-” he stopped to briefly turn to the body then back to me. “You got him pretty good! A little to the left and thou would have missed his jugular. An impressive strike for a first-timer.” He was praising me?!

“S-stop talking!” I stood up facing the roach. “I-I killed him! It's a bad th-thing!” I sniffed. “I left my home just this morning and now I’m a murderer!” I dropped down taking the glowing bug between my forehooves just like I did the stuffed animal of him. “What do I doohohoo?! I don't want to be dahahahamned!” ahh hell I was crying. “Discord’s gonna drag me to Heheheeell and I’m gonna buuuurn!”

“There was a long silence from the radroach. “Provider..” he tapped on my hoof. “Provider… Focus provider. Not only art thou holding me too tight..” a small wheezing chitter as I squeezed him to my chest and bawled. “But it was-” he struggled in my hold, and the ticking of rads was barely noticeable over the much more pressing issue. “But It was self-defense!” he rasped before I blinked, freeing him on the spot.

“Self… defense?” I said aloud waiting for the meaning to sink in past the pain in my skull.

“Yes, self-defense!” repeated Brad skittering a slightly safer distance from my clingy forelegs. “This bandit of a buck intended to abscond with thy possessions, violate thine purity, and consume of thine flesh.” he coughed… somehow. Can bugs cough? The subtitles said ‘-cough-’. “It is hard to justify self-defense more than that provider!” he was getting that triumphant regal chitter back as he pointed up at me.

“Self defense… self… defense… “I looked at the ground staring off into oblivion like the physical words were going to fall out of the air and crash into the sandy grass. The golden gates of the Everafter slowly being pushed back open by a pair of tiny haloed princesses. “Yeah… Self-defense” I mumbled. One of the only two excuses for killing a pony ever... An accident, and self-defense. “That means… I’m Innocent!!” I exclaimed with both forehooves going into the air throwing off the weight of guilt! “Woo!!” I cheered.

Brad cheered too. “Indeed provider! It's a glorious thing indeed to see thine conscience alleviated!... so easily.” The subtitles for that last part were a few fonts smaller for some reason.

“Yeah fuck that guy!” I pointed a hoof at Brick’s remains to which he responded about as well as one can as… a corpse. “I was so willing to be nice to you, and you return the favor by trying to eat me! What kind of sick pony does that?!”

“Indeed, quite sick….probably from all the pony eating.” nodded Brad.

“Ya know what, he got what he deserved. Call it divine retribution in fact! Should have known the princesses liked me enough to not let something like that happen to me.” Thank Luna for watching out for me! Woo!

“Provider?...” Brad chimed.

“Yeah?” I looked down, hooves still held high in celebration.

“You’re gloating…”

“Oh….” the hooves came down.

“Lessons in humility aside, what do you wish for us to do with thine slain foe?” he asked while many other radroaches began to gather around the body. “Ironic justice would be to rob, violate, and eat his corpse, but I do believe such action would have thou stooping to his level.”

My stomach lurched at the idea “What?! Eww no!”

“I merely suggested it would be the ironic solution. Not the moral, sanitary, sane, or reasonable one. We are more than happy to assist the great provider in more proper disposal of thine newly created scavenger magnet.”

“Right, he probably needs to be buried..” I glanced around at the vast emptiness around us. Hills, grass, and dead trees. “I don't suppose you guys have a shovel?”

“No… but we got into thy kind’s metal nest didn’t we?”

***

A world made of chalkboard, where everything and everypony were scratched into existence with thin white lines. Me, the endless hallways that made up my surroundings, and the looming buck getting my pencil driven into his neck were all in the same chalky scratch marks. The walls moved, and no matter how much I stabbed him, no matter how many holes I put in him I was still pinned to the black-board floor. Each new hole was just another white line upon his drawn torso leaking powder down onto me. ‘Then’, ‘now’, and ‘eventually’ all blurred together as my stabbing fluctuated between frantic and exhaustingly casual. Eventually, these scratchy chalk bucks would fall off into growing piles of powder only to be replaced by another pinning me down. No screams, just the constant grunt of exertion spent stabbing them.

The powder was piling up around me like sand, soon, it was in my eyes and I had to cough with every labored breath. Some of them tried to bash me with brick-shaped clumps of chalk disintegrating on impact, more came at me with large maws biting at me, and a few tried to pin me in worse ways. Yet the stabbing never stopped.

“Enough of this!” exclaimed a distant yet familiar mare’s voice. I felt a gust blow past me with the beating of massive wings. The bucks, the hall, the pencil, and even my body were all blown away like powder in the breeze, leaving not even the black-board texture in the background.

***

I opened my eyes to blurry blues and fluffy whites as I gasped for air. Shooting up to sitting on my haunches I panted. It took several seconds to find my glasses, but once on the world was normal again… as normal as a seemingly endless expanse of dead grass and trees was. “Oh goddesses I’m alive!” I gasped frantically feeling all over myself until my lungs got the memo to calm down. Post-sleep reality made itself known around me in ever greater detail. “Was just a dream… I’m fine… just..” wait a moment, if that was the dream, then that means this is- “Buck! Why isn’t this whole surface thing just a maint-shine fueled dream!?”

“I see thou art awake dear provider!” cheerfully chittered the now moderately less glowing King Brad two feet away from me. “How is dream Pickle doing?”

“How is dream Pickle..?” I repeated until it suddenly clicked and my muzzle got warm. “H-How did you know about that?!” I pointed in the least defensive way I possibly could. Very.

“We lived within the metal wind tunnels connected to your room oh great provider! And thou tends to talk in thy sleep, and kick, and mumble… and talk aloud to thyself late in the evening before said sleeps.” he answered like it was a common known fact.

“I-I do not!” I stammered with no evidence to back my clearly true claims.

Brad continued like I hadn’t just rebuked him. “Plus, thou does occasionally drool too, great provider. I assume dreams of tasty cardboard!~”

One time! I wake up with drooly pillow one time and the roach knows about it. “I do NOT drool in my sleep, but that raises another question. What's with the whole great provider title? You've been calling me that nonstop for like.. since I met you.” I may have asked this question earlier if it weren't for the… what was it? Oh right, Concussion!

“Surely thou jest great provider!” he skittered over bringing the half-eaten can of taco on his back. “Thou hast fed our kind for years when all others of thine ilk would try to slay us for merely existing or inspecting the fancy white bowls they bathe in.”

“You mean bathtubs?...” I asked slowly blinking as my morning brain sluggishly put piece after piece together. My horn glowed briefly to hover the taco can off King Brad and closer to me.

Brad chittered in glee. “Yes indeed! So clean, white, and smooth! Excellent locations for our meditations and contemplations.”

“Riiiiiight….”

“While we were initially saddened by thy leaving, we were so moved by your final offerings we couldn't help but go with you! Thou not only freely gave unto us essence of thine own body, but also arranged a feast for us where thy kind casts things away!”

So I fed them for years, puked in a bucket, and told them about my farewell feast trash. Was it just me or did it feel super weird getting praised for things you just offhandedly did without a second thought? Feel like I should enjoy it a bit, but it doesn’t feel good… not bad either, but certainly not good. “Well erm… thou art welcome.” I shifted a bit in place before looking at the half-eaten taco can. It's been out in the open for over eight hours at least, several ponies including me have eaten out of it, and it somehow survived the roach swarm. I hovered it back to him. “Here~ you guys can have it. I think I’ll try something else.”

The chitter equivalent of a joyous gasp came from Brad “Thine generosity knows no bounds great provider! It shall be divided evenly among my brethren as to avoid poisoning.” several ordinary radroaches skittered in from the nearby grass where they'd been hiding to take the can and leave with it.

I’d been midway through taking out Pickle-Jar’s pickle jar when I paused. “Did.. did you say p-poison?”

“Oh certainly!~ Most of the metal-shelled foods we find are as safe to eat as they are hard to open. These ‘canned tacos’ as many call them may be the most well-rounded diet we could ask for, but something in them is toxic to us. Why doth though think we appreciate thy cleansing of the food thou did before offering it unto us?”

“Uhhhh…” Yeah, no. I'm not going to think about how the one food I’ve loved with all my soul since before I had teeth was possibly toxic enough to kill a radroach. Nope! Not gonna do it! It's Pickle-Jar pickle time! “So what are you guys gonna to do now?” I asked trying to get the lid off by hoof like a real mare!

“Many having saved thy life feel their debts have been paid and are returning to their humble lives out in the waste. Others of us don't wish to spark a war with the savage crickets… yet.” he glanced around shiftily “And others such as myself desire to assist you in whatever small ways we can, but have home lives to attend to. Doth thou… need help now?” he asked watching me struggle with the jar.

“No.. I.. got it!” I strained, gritting my teeth as I was putting all my might into twisting the lid. “Hrrrrghh!” POP!! “Ah… there we go~” I panted having exerted an embarrassingly large amount of effort to get the lid off. Pickle makes these all the time, how strong is that mare? Well, she is an earthpony.

“Excellent! Now that thou hast slain a mundane pickle jar what will thou do next? Most of us are returning home for now, but I may accompany you a bit longer. Assisting the great provider has been an excellent break from my usual foal saving and helping of elderly mares crossing streets.”

“Hmmm…” I pondered with a hoof to my chin, really working on my thinking-mare pose for my eventual self-portrait. “I still need to visit the array…” I hovered out a pickle. “Get my hooves on a gun…” sank my teeth into it. “Gotta make friends without getting shot in the ass...” I said through the crunching of the pickle. “Hey these are pretty good…” I mumbled grabbing another. So her talent really WAS Pickles. I'm not much of a mare for sour things, but Clestia’s chef on high I could taste the soul of Equis through the rocksalt and the smell was unforgettably similar to the chef herself. “Mffff~” I muffled, my eyes half lidding as I got lost in the second one. “What were we talking about?...”

Brad did a little coughing gesture with a foreleg “Thine plans?”

“Oh right…” I swallowed, floating the lid back onto the jar, these things were going to have to last me a month, and I’d already eaten two of them. I held the jar up and shook it a little as I counted the remainder. Bout eleven left, one a day maybe? “Guess I should probably stick to my main quest then, I'm sure making friends will probably happen along the way. I mean who wouldn't want me as a friend? I'm a catch!” I proclaimed, standing proud with a hoof to my chest letting my ego shine.

“Like how the raiders caught thee?” Brad questioned, though hard to tell if it was sarcasm or a genuine question. Either way, I deflated immediately

“Luna fucking damn it, Brad…” I grumbled and sulked on the spot wanting to facehoof. The rest of my possessions stashed away I checked my pipbuck for a heading. Just down this road and make a left as soon as I was past the mountain. Just a whole nother day of walking, in this vast empty expanse of grass and wind.

I couldn’t believe it, I'd been out in this brave, new, radioactive world for all of a day, nearly died one and a half times, nearly got eaten, I’m talking to a radroach… and I’m dreading the thought of getting bored on the walk ahead. How short was my attention spa- IDEA!! Dad was right, I did save this holotape for a special day, my first full day in the wasteland! Plus better to listen to it now before more psychos with guns and bad teeth try eating me too. Plus surviving getting murdered feels pretty special!

After fiddling around with parts of the pipbuck I never used before I decided popping the holotape player open and closing it again for the autoplay feature was faster than navigating through ALL THESE MENUS! “Ready to go? The sooner we fix the array the sooner we can go home. Plus I’ll shower you guys in all the tra- err.. food I can get my hooves on.”

Brad chittered with glee skittering alongside me. “Indeed! Our quest is set and adventure awaits! Hit it!” He pointed at my pipbuck striking a pose, on cue I closed the lid and was greeted not by song, but a mare’s voice I never heard before.

‘Princess in the sky’ by Norbuck Greenbean~
“This song has been approved by the Ministry of Image, If the anti-tamper seal is missing please report the tape to the nearest guard immediately. Enjoy~”

Now I was confused. What tamper seal? This thing had been scuffed bare with only a name written on it in marker. And where did I know that ministry name from? History class?

The strumming started on an instrument I couldn't name. A ‘Nah nah nana nuuh’ I felt it in my ears, then my hips, and all the way down to my hooves. It got me tapping a hoof and soon after a gentle bucks voice came along with it.

Oh yeah, I can see why Dad used to play this in the chapel, nopony ever sings anymore. No instruments, speakers, books of song, and nopony to learn them. I bet the Goddesses loved this buck! To inspire him to make sounds I could feel. Music that put energy in my hooves and made my head want to sway as I walked.

That guitar? Yeah probably a guitar, took center stage and its tempo worked into all ten of Brad and I’s legs. To trot, to prance, the urge to leap, and bounce as the sound lifted something inside me. Like I wanted to fly~

And there I was, prancing to adventure, feeling a radiant joy that I honestly couldn’t remember ever feeling before. To giggle and trot to a song about a buck’s faith in Luna ensuring his passage to the Everafter. The place that's the best, going to see the great Celest.

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Wild Wasteland

-You’ve given the GM permission to throw logic and reason out the window for your own sick and twisted amusement. Discord would be proud! Now fasten your stable suit cause its about to get weird!

Achievment perk: Booped By Discord.
-It does exactly what you think it does. Hope you like rutabagas and chocolate milk.

(Author's note: Because of copyright reasons, no ponified lyrics of 'Spirit in the sky’. I would if I could.)

Chapter 6: Friends?

Fallout Equestria: The Lunar Archives
(By: Lakeel)
Chapter 6: Friends?

It turns out music is a great motivator for grueling walks in the wasteland. Who knew music could affect your perception of time? I didn’t! And neither did King Brad.

If I stuck my forehoof out real far Old-Mountain was now two whole hooves further south and the sun now about four hooves high. Who knew music could also make you forget that pipbucks have a map and clock function? I didn’t! It took several moments of feeling stupid after the song ended to finally decide that was enough. “Okaaaay seven times in a row is too many. I’m just gonna… yeah...” CLICK

“Probably for the best. Thou hast been playing the tape more times in the past half hour than it hast in the past score years.” Brad commented as he skittered alongside me.

“True, it is pretty good though. Never knew a stallion could have a voice like that. Or any pony now that I think about it.”

“Did your kind’s nestmates not sing for each other? I recall thine sire mentioning he’d been part of a foal’s choir in ages past.” Brad questioned.

“Well not really, and if they did I wasn't around for it.” Wait an apple-bucking second… something’s off here. “Hey uhh… How’d you know my dad was in a choir? He didn’t-”

“Oh look we're here!” Brad interrupted pointing a tiny leg off to my left.

The tiny princesses appeared just to look in that direction and jaw-drop in sync with me. “Holy horseapples…” I don’t know how it snuck up on me, but Old-Mountain was much closer now and there was a massive pile of smoking scrap metal sticking out the side! It looked like somepony took an onion made of steel and blew it up! Creaking metal jutted out from the great metallic carcass in a mess of rib-like spires, beams, and twisted plating.

A little ping came from my pipbuck providing the opportunity to look away from the wreckage several times bigger than Saint Pinkie’s house.

Quest Update.
Reach sensor array: Completed.
Array status: ‘F.U.B.A.R’

“Ya don’t saaaay!” I sassed my pipbuck, waving at the smoking pile of wreckage. “I never woulda guessed! Maybe the sensor array is supposed to look like this?!” Tiny princesses hung out in the periphery of my vision, playing around on the various bits of wreckage like a derelict playground.

“Dearest provider, lose not all hope. Look yonder, I think I see thine quarry.” Brad pointed focusing my attention on a concrete slab jutting up into the underside of the wreck’s belly.

A few steps closer drew the grim reality I’m going to need far more than a crash course electronics magazine to fix this. The slab, dirty and scorched to hell, was the most intact part of the array. Mangled metal poles bent every which way. It looked like a giant pony made a mini version of those massive metal power poles and hate-stomped it like it owed them money. Not to mention cleaved it in twain with the largest fan blade I’ve ever seen! Correction, fan-BLADESSS!!

“Welp…” I plopped down on my rear. “I’m fucked!” I exclaimed throwing my hooves in the air.

Another ping.

Array Status: ‘F.U.B.A.R.2.0’
Analyzing…
Updating…
New Objectives:
1. Get ‘good’ and fix the array.
2. Procrastinate until Stable opens again.

I deadpanned. “Ice-Pick you dead-vein..” I sighed squinting at the mountain and down to where the stable probably was. “I drew you some of the finest flanks I’ve ever drawn to crack this pipbuck… and you make it sassy?! I’m gonna kick you in the dick when I get back!”

New Quest!:
Objective: Kick Ice-Pick in the dick.
Reward: Petty-Vengence.

I blinked, rage gone in an instant. “Nevermind, I’m starting to like this new sass… Still gonna kick him though.”

Brad blinked his beady eyes… somehow. “Who’s Ice-Pick?”

“The buck who bypassed the security on my pipbuck for me. I wanted to see if it had any special features like changing the morning alarm or spying on whatever security is gossiping about…”

“Oh… does it?”

“Nope..” I slumped. “All I got was figuring out the alarm is broadcast by the overmare’s terminal, and that half the bucks in security have railed Tulip-Patch in the armory. But everypony already knew that!”

“So she has many spawn then yes?” Brad chittered still trying to sound positive even if the subject made me and the tiny princesses want to hurl.

“Eww no!” I balked, recoiling while tiny Luna lost her imaginary rainbow lunch on a nearby girder.

“Oh… Maybe she should see one of thine doctor ponies?” Supportive to the end. Very Bradish indeed.

“Are we seriously talking about Tulip’s reproductive habits right now?!” I waved my hooves in the air swatting away the forming mental images. Ehh! Ehhh!! Begone thought clouds!

Brad wiped his non-existant brow with a foreleg. “Well nay, I’m just saying it’s a tad concerning to breed that much and not-”

Nope! Not paid enough to hear this! Im going for the wreck. “La-La-La I can't hear you! La-La! Going into the dangerous wreck to unhear all these words! La-La!”

“Provider!” he cried skittering after me.

***

That report from Cloudy-Skies did mention something about a ‘raptor’ having crashed into the side of a mountain. Given all the metal around me no longer resembled any shape known to my vast unicorn mind, this had to be the ‘Fog-Bank’.

Tippy-hooving over bent struts, rusted panels, and crumpled beams this ‘raptor’ was much bigger on the inside, and the further I climbed into it the more intact it seemed.

“It’s like a stable in here… If somepony dropped it.” I squinted into the dark.

Shattered metal became crunched hallways. Crunched hallways led to numerous half-collapsed rooms lit by sunbeams piercing through countless holes. Few of the rooms could be recognized for their purpose, most of the furniture had been smashed or corroded. One consistency was all the debris piled against the same wall. Same side as the mountain.

“Crashed harder than a drunk down the main shaft...” I clicked my pip-light and dove deeper into the bowls of the wreck. Not a single lifesign throughout the place, just the gentle groan of metal and all this smoke blowing by. Okay seriously, where’s it coming from? Nothing smelled burnt, in fact, I barely smelled anything at all. Rust, ozone, and a wee bit of copper.

“Good news girls! If chemistry class taught me anything, It’s not cyanide!” I pointed out to the little princesses tagging along with a big dumb smile. They’d been zipping around and shaping the smoke into various shapes before flying off to make the next. See! I could be positive.

Brad was unaccounted for, but I’m sure he's fiiiine. This place is so full of holes and compartments it’d be a radroach paradise if not for the lack of food. Speaking of food… “It’s a sign!” I pointed at the first literal sign hanging on the wall id seen today, looking between the little princesses with the same dumb smile. “Ehh? Get it? A sign~”

The alicorns may have facehoofed at my grade-A dad joke, but I had a sense of direction now! Cafeteria, Engineering, Aft-Cargo, and Bunks. “Finally, goals!” I cheered. “Eeny, meeny, miney… that one!!” I picked engineering before trotting down the respective hallway. My search methods were flawless as none could question me!

Loose cables hung from the ceiling and a number of them occasionally sparked when a breeze passed through. The further I went the more the ceiling roiled in a flowing stream of black smoke. Something had to be producing this stuff and I was going to find it! Mainly just to turn it off.

I crawled along the floor to avoid breathing in the smoke in. My patent pending radroach skitter was coming along nicely too. Be one with the radroach, Become the radroach… envision the rad- Oh hey another sign!

‘Workshop!’ And that can only mean one thing. LOOT!! A room full of the things Stable-83 was short on!

The little princesses stood there at the base of the door glaring at me and shaking their heads in disappointment.

“Whaaat? They practically sent me out here to die, what’s wrong with insuring myself a life of luxury when I go back?” I whined only to be met with a more disappointed head shaking of my royal figments. “Fiiine! I'll look for stuff to fix the array. Maybe they have an issue of ‘Arrays for the socially challenged’ in here.” I grumbled.

The princesses nodded and poofed leaving me to slowly push the door open… and by slowly I mean it was stuck. And by stuck, I mean forcing me to think on how to open it. This pipe jutting out of the wall should serve me well in this endeavor. To open the door I’d employ the oldest and most sacred of scientific research methods in pony history. The pointy stick method!

Channeling my inner cave-pony I levitated the pipe and started bashing the door. The raptor filled with the bangs and clangs of my attempts. “Must-” bang “Apply-” clang “Problem solving-!” BANG! “Skills!” BangBangBang!!

Once my horn got tired from vigorous TK use, I dropped the pipe and sat down for a break. “Okay, Magic and higher thinking clearly aren't working here.” I gasped looking up at the now very dented door. “Where good ideas fail, dumb ideas succeeded!” With a deep breath below the smoke, I stood on my hind legs, gripped the pipe between my forehooves (don’t think about it), and went to town on the door once more.

Bang!Bang!Bang!!BANG!!

“Ehh! Ehhh!! EH!” I wailed on the stuck door praying that at some convenient point, my earth-pony lineage would come surging through my wimpy unicorn limbs! “Just gotta apply the stick method.. a little.. moore!!” Several more wacks turned into a good ten minutes of wacks and an exhausted me laying flopped on the floor.

“Cmoooon… lemmie iiin.” I pleaded with the door in defeat, limply tapping the pipe on it with my nerd limbs.

Magical prowess failed me, and so had the brawn of my 50ish percent earth pony lineage, which nopony was around to contest otherwise! Curse you steel for being stronger than my noodle hooves! At least I wasn’t stupid enough to buck the door open, you miss the crowbar one time trying to pop a rusted door on B3 and It goes right up your… spine.

I blinked, and facehoofed with a groan. “Luna fucking damn it…” Forget magical prowess and brawn! It was time to employ the greatest tool of noodle-limbed ponies everywhere! Engineering and basic geometry! These forces combine in a spectacular little explosion put on by my tiny princesses to form… Leverage!

Having beat the door into dented fuglyness I jammed the battered pipe into a small gap at the edge and pulled. “Ehh! Ehhhh!! EHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

PIIING!!

The metallic ping went off as the door flung open and broke past whatever had been jamming it. The pipe went flying and I tumbled backward. I sat up and threw my hooves in the air. “Sucess!” Only for another metallic ping to ring out as the flying pipe came down on my head.

It began with something between a scream and an ‘OWOWOW!!’ before ending with the miniature goddesses blushing at the Stable-mare. A Stable mare who spent an untold amount of time rolling on the floor, holding her head, and screaming enough incoherent profanities even the rock breakers would struggle to maintain eye-contact.

One recovery later the workshop was just as messy as the rest of the ship, with a few very notable exceptions. Nuts, bolts, screws, shattered bulbs, and dusty tools were scattered about. A hammer here, a combination wrench there, and the first artificial light since I came down here. A terminal! Next to a vice holding some strange contraption was a terminal on a bolted-down table.

Trotting right past the debris I hopped on my hinds to reach the terminal. “Well hello beautiful, Been a while since I've seen a-” Reaching for the terminal’s keyboard my hoof went right through it. “What the…” I tried the motion again, and again, but my hoof whiffed through the terminal each time. “Aww, Cmooon!!”

The terminal upon closer inspection may have been shaped like an ordinary terminal, but it was made of cloud… stuff. Screen, keys, casing, nobs all of it made of various colors of clouds. “Seriously?! HOW?!” no dice. “Dark.. wispy.. Pega magic..” I grumbled glaring at the screen and the message that was left on it.

Engineering-R.F.B.
Log # 117b (Do not SUBMIT!)

Everything around here has gone to shit! Fix this the captain orders, repair the loading bay hydraulics before tomorrow she demands. How fast does she expect us to fix things with only duct tape, rust, and clouds? We've started delegating team projects to individual engineers. Even worse, syncing up schedules with Pink-Nimbus has been Tartarus in the Sky. That feather duster of a captain has cost me Three Dates!!

Now she's ordered engineering to ‘fix’ all the broken rifles before we get home. Fix them with what?! Tape?! Glue?! Hopes and dreams?! Half the weapons in the armory have cracked lenses, and she wants them fixed so she can report them as ‘functional’. Fine! She wants functional, I’ll give her functional.

Here captain admiral sucker, let's get goddess damned Midevil with it. Cannibalizing a third of the armory I got a quarter of the rifles ‘functional’. I can hear it now. (Insert squeaky captain's voice here) “What weapons? We never had those weapons~ We were always underequipped, arnt we so resourceful? Please Admiral let me blow you under the desk while you read the report about this economic weapon ‘I’ invented. Teehee!”

Behold everypega, the Enclave has fallen back into the Renaissance. I present to thee the MEW-Musket! Gaze upon its half-assembled case, saving us on material costs. Apply your cheap-ass eyes to the exposed lens matrix, so easy to replace when damaged. Plus in a dash of Innovation, I used a bunch of ‘leftover’ spark capacitors from the fuze box outside the captain's room to install a charge feature. I’m sure everypony has time in a battle to turn the little crank on the side to load their shots. Its fiiine! Perfectly safe to use even! Just don’t get-

—----

The rest cut off at the bottom of the screen. Unable to scroll I looked where a vice held a gun-shaped amalgam of wires, lenses, and the skeletons of other guns. “Well it looks like a gun, the report says it's a gun, it-” I sniff. “ it smells like a gun...”

Free from the vice I hovered it down so I could inspect it from the comfort of not standing on my hinds. The little princesses hanging from the exposed wires and barrel. “Okay Sketchy, 7th-grade security field trip for part of that ‘scared straight’ crap the Overmare thought was a good idea. What do you remember about guns?” I thought aloud, turning the thing over and inspecting every which way. “It’s got a mouth grip.. Which I don’t need. The stick with the lenses on it is clearly the shooty end, and this jar thing here is a spark capacitor. But what does this crank do?”

Only one way to find out! I had the gun wrapped in my TK, so it was little effort to turn the crank simultaneously. A red glow manifested within the jar-sized capacitor. “Okay, this is kinda cool..” I stared into the glow. “What if I..” a few experimental cranks later I squeaked as small red arcs of energy started jumping around the exposed wiring when suddenly-

PWOOOMMM!!!

The air cracked like a rock breaker threw a rod when a wild stream of red shot out the musket’s end. I may have found myself hunched down to the floor with my hooves over my head, or I could say I was a brave mare and totally didn’t. Either way, opening my eyes there was a new beam of light coming in from outside, through a new hole in the wall. I looked back down at the smoking gun. “Holy shit… Is this why the security ponies act like they have the biggest dicks in the stable?”

***

Brand new confidence multiplier aside, I had a new issue. I’m totally keeping this thing, but I have nowhere to put it. It’s too long for my saddlebag, I can't hover it around forever, and there's nowhere on my person to store it. “No Brain, I will not even entertain the joke of shoving it up my ass and calling it hammerspace,” I commented aloud hoping the wrinkly organ got the message.

Idea! If it’s too big, I’ll just make it smaller. Musket + vice + this hacksaw I found = me lopping the musket’s five lenses down to one! A lot more manageable! “MEW-Musket, meet the MEW-Flintlock!” I held it aloft, right in the goddess-rays from that new hole in the wall for effect. “Or the MEW-Lock… MEF? MEFL?” I’ll need to pick a cool name later. “Heh… MELF~”

Just like the characters in my fics, I found names possibly the most difficult thing a creator can do. That and removing unnecessary content like the three dozen other names I had for the Mew-Lock. MEEF and Mew-Lock sound like the best contenders. I’ll ask Watcher-2 later.

Tossing the severed barrel aside It was much easier to slip my new weapon into my saddle bag. Just gotta remember to sack this room whenever I find whatever hole I’m gonna be sleeping in the next few weeks. On the subject of holes… I looked up to the blackness roiling on the ceiling and escaping through a new exit. “No wonder I can't smell anything burning, it's all clouds!.. I should probably turn that off.”

***

Deeper I delve into the forgotten bowels of this steel titan, my erudite mind deducing the harmlessness of the clouds filling the halls. The only real threat these blackened clouds posed was the low-hanging pipes hidden within. Pipes so foul and dastardly that they will be excluded from my memoirs as punishment for hitting me in the face. Even the smell of ozone grew dull as time passed. With my vision quite literally clouded and my pip-light being of little help I followed the hissing of distant vents.

“Good goddesses it's humid in here!” walking through all this mist soaked through my suit. First, my mane went frizzy, then it itched, and now my glasses are so condensed they dripped. I’m sure this would be all kinds of exfoliating or whatever Tulip called it, but my mane’s going limp now.

“Ugh.. I wanted a shower, not a sauna!” I groaned following the hiss, the occasional wall sign signaled I was heading deeper, towards whatever a cloud symbol means.

Following the signs I found a room, and after forcing a very slick door open the origin of the clouds was laid bare before me…ish. It was some kind of generator room, flooded ankle-deep, with many broken pipes spewing streams of blackened cloud that obscured all but general shapes. “Okay… it's broker than Saint Applejack’s poker face, so where’s the goddess damned off switch?” Sloshing my way through the pool of condensation and knocking floating mystery debris out of my way I hit something more solid. Alright, I'm sure two-year-old me figured out enough object permanence to feel this thing out. Square, metal, buttons on top, a control panel! But where’s the off switch?

The little princesses drifted in from the edges of my vision, dripping wet and flapping their wings like drenched moths. They looked.. Upset with me? “What? You didn't have to follow me down here.”

The two soaked figments shook their heads. Celestia shook herself off like a dog from the kindergarten stories while Luna pulled out a pair of glowing hoofheld cones and started waving them around. “Oh oh! I know what this is! I watched the other kids play charades at PJs Cutiescenara!”

Tiny Luna just stared at me like that was possibly the saddest thing she ever heard. Then shrugged cause my guess was probably close enough and started waving both the glowing cones off to the right. “Okay, you either want me to dance.. or move my hoof to the right?”

It was Mini-Celestia’s turn to deadpan ‘seriously?’ on her face. I smiled sheepishly and moved my hoof to the right pressing the first button I hit. A click and the distant sound of crashing metal later, the hissing pipes dwindled to nothing. “Thank Celestia It’s finally off! Should finally be able to see around here once the.. clouds.. clear.”

My throat went dry, which was quite difficult given the humidity. Mental scar number four, or at least I think I was up to four. It wasn’t just bones this time. It was bones, brown smears up the walls, and a room full of very brown water. Piles of tattered uniforms and crunched black plates lay against the same wall as the debris in all the other rooms. Bones floated and bobbed around my hooves, the last remnants of soggy sinew clinging to them, and I was standing here ankle-deep.. in pony soup. Guess I found the engineers...

I gagged but choked it down, I’ve puked way too many times in the past few days! Short of my muffled gagging, and dripping from the pipes the room was quiet and still. “Huh, managed to not throw up this-”

“Ughhsshp…gushk~” A groan and a wet sound I can only describe as a ‘glorp’ sent a shiver up my spine.

“Sweet Celestia if this place is goddess damned haunted too I’m gonna scream…” and if the situation couldn’t get any worse, my pipbuck started ticking. Rads, Cause of course this room needed magical radiation to microwave the corpse soup!

Another wet and gurgly groan came from the pile of water-logged equipment. Why yes brain! This is an excellent opportunity to work on my backstep, so glad you reminded me. The water, or should I say soup, sloshed as I backed towards the door. The pile kept shifting “Brad.. that better be you!” What rose from the pile of rot was not my valiant Radroach companion, it was a pony, or at least what’s left of a pony. Bound in the moldy remains of an orange uniform and rotting black overalls was a pegasus, half a pegasus. Hissing and gurgling as it stood, the pegasus was a walking corpse. Most of its face was missing, bones were exposed everywhere, and almost all its coat had fallen out leaving mushrooms and translucent skin in its wake. Decomposing limbs shook as they moved, allowing a mess of goo, intestines, and fungus to spill from a gash in the creature's belly.

Well, this is horrifying, and I‘d scream if it weren’t for the… oh wait, I didn't have a reason NOT to scream. In that case- “ZOMBIIIEEE!!!” I cried like a filly, which was very justified this time! I backed away faster once the corpse started walking, teeth gnashing, and groaning wet rasps I’ll never unhear. I ended up falling flank first into the hallway right outside the room. Scrambling and slipping on the soup-slickened floor, I bolted through the ruin until I was out of the soup. I looked back just to see the zombie limping its way after me, dripping the sludge and dragging a useless hindleg behind it.

“Okay, take a second and think Sketchy! Gotta think, gotta act. Gotta think, gotta act, gotta think, gotta- Ahh!!” I shook my head to break the loop. I could outrun the thing or I could- “I choose violence!!” I cried pulling out my ‘new’ magic flintlock as frantically as possible, pointed, and-

Click!... Click!Click!Click!

I stopped and stared at the gun. “C'mon don’t be broken now!” I shook the gun, and all I got in return was a little rattle. “Oh yeah… gotta crank it.” my dumb was going to get me killed! Ahhh!!

I resumed backing away from the approaching abomination to the goddesses, charging the capacitor’s red glow with each crank in the grip of my TK. “I know damn well Tartarus isn’t full! Get back in there creep!” I yelled pulling the trigger.

PWOOOM!! Exploded out of the end of the flintlock in a streak of searing red. Shrieking through the air off to the right, missing the walking dead entirely. “Shiiit! I pointed right at him!” Back up faster sketchy! Back up faster!

Crank and fire till it dies! PWOOM!! Crank, PWOOM!! Crank, PWOOM!! Crank. Im burning holes in literally everything but him! I had to hit him, I assumed it was a ‘him’, eventually! The law of averages said so! ”It’s a laser! Why doesn't it go in a straight line!?”

The gnashing of teeth and wet groans of the creature drew ever closer as it hobbled towards me. Another of its back legs snapped leaving its rear half dragging on the ground, yet this undying thing continue to claw its forehooves at the ground and pull itself towards me. A long black smear rowing behind it.

Okay, I gotta aim, and not just point the gun in the general direction of danger. Just do what the ponies do in the old comic strips. Gun in front of me, look down the ironsights, which the gun fortunately had, close an eye, aaaaand fi- PWOOM!!

I may have closed my eyes.. a little.. A lot, but upon opening one I saw results. A wheezing zombie thing with a smoldering hoof-wide hole bored through its chest. A second later in a dying groan, the undead pegasus fell to pieces. A loose pile of limbs, bones, and singed gore lay in the water. Chunks in the year-old salsa.. I’m never going to be able to eat salsa again after that statement am I?

“Phew…” I panted lowering the equally smoldering flintlock. “Thank.. Fucking.. Celestia.. It's finally dead.” no longer standing in the corpse soup I sat down to recoup. “Whatever happened to zombies only dying when you shot them in the head?” I asked and the only pony to answer was the manifesting little Luna, now clad in a bandana, an army green ‘born to pone’ tank top, paint under her eyes, and hovering a pair of assault rifles like the ones from the stable armory. Shaking her head as she looked up at me and shrugged. “Okay to be fair.. What wouldn’t that kill?” and as if solely to answer my question the tiny Celestia showed up in a Nightmare-Night vampire-bat pony costume. “Okay okay, point taken. But that isn't a vampony!” I pointed the smoking flintlock at the corpse. “I mean how could it even move?! You can’t send electrical signals along dead nervous tissue!..unless it's fresh as hell…” Somehow the flashback to dissection day in biology class made me shiver more than this monster did. Ughh, that poor radroach, getting cut apart and zapped for a quiz grade.

Yep, the surface is kinda ass. Seeing the manifestations of the goddesses was pretty cool but... First, it was corpses, then it was ghosts, then it was butt cannibals, and now it’s zombies! What's next? Raining fire?!”

***

“Holy horseapples it’s raining bucking fire!” standing where I entered the wreck, embers fluttered down the hillside around me. Countless orange specs clinging to ashes fell from the- “Oww!” I hissed, shaking the hoof singed by an ember, and retreated back under the cover of a raptor support beam. “Isn't it supposed to rain WATER?!” I threw my hooves into the air mildly hoping the princesses above would answer. Looking up though I saw the edge of the clouds the embers fell from. How small was this firestorm?

If I were writing in my book right now, I'd try to describe the camera view slowly panning out to a very tiny me looking left. “Oh…” leaving my mouth as a pillar of smoke spewing out the back of the raptor’s engines came into view. The reader might assume it's clouds but all the flames would give away its smoke. Then zoom the view back in on me! "Oops..."

I looked down at the still-smoldering magic flintlock recalling all those burning holes I left in the wrecked airship. “Great… Well, at least it was an accident this time.” A small comfort to be sure but I’m clinging to it! Maybe I should sit here and wait for the fire to go out before I- aaaand the field was on fire. Who knew an endless expanse of dead grass and trees would be super flammable? Cause I didn’t!.. Okay, I did, but how has it not caught fire before?

“Way to go Sketchy… you’ve been on the surface for two days and have started not one, but two wildfires.” I glared into the burning expanse, hoping the future me writing this down remembers to zoom the camera out so there was a tiny me looking quite grumpy at the flaming wasteland.

***

When the world burns around you, there is only so much a mare like me can do to pass the time. Cloud watching failed me cause there was only one cloud, tic-tac-toe failed cause B-Rad wasn’t around, and I was still sick of dad’s holotape. No, there was only one real option left… my second most faithful time waster!

“And the.. purple pegasus.. blushed like an.. apple? No.. beet?... Yeah, a beet.” I scribbled into my book. My first fic on the surface was going to be glorious! “Blushed like a beet.. when that.. big.. slab of royal guard buck…” I paused, was that too many descriptors?... Nah! “Whipped out his thunder di-”

“Provider! There you are!” came from next to me.

“Ahh!” I squealed slamming the book shut and flinching away from the source, clinging the book to my chest… only to realize it was only B-rad.

He stood atop a nearby metal plate. “Excellent battle cry provider, thine bravado is applaudable. A few score weeks of practice and even I might be intimidated.” he praised and I could somehow see the cheerful smile in his subtitles.

“For the love of Celestia’s favorite guard Brad! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” I panted calming down from getting startled, quickly stashing my book back where it belonged. “Do I need to put a bell on you or something?”

“I’d take it as a challenge dear provider! Such a hindrance for my stealth would be great training indeed.” of course he had a positive spin. “I’d expect no less of a challenge from the mare that wiped out the local cricket tribe! Thine use of fire was ingenious!”

I blinked processing. “I did what now?”

Brad gestured to the wide open field of blackened earth with only a few patches of flame remaining. “You’ve slain many vile crickets Provider! My kind would never hath thought to burn the savages out of their dens. But thine strategy doth know no bounds!” okay, seriously I'm not that impressive, and all this praise was making me cringe into myself.

“Yeah I don’t know about that…” I rubbed my neck with a hoof. “I didn’t exactly intend to light this wreck on fire. It was kindof an accident.. like…”

“Oh, don’t be humble provider. Its quite unbecoming of somepony so-”

POOOOMM!!

What was that? My ears flicked toward the mountain.

Ziiiiip- PING!

Brad.. exploded. Exploded into a spray of sparks, glowing paste, and chunks of green carapace. He splattered across the metal plate he stood, my hooves, my legs, even my glasses.

“B-Brad?…” I stood there, frozen, mouth agape at the spot where B-rad was previously singing my praises. My ears rang and my heart stopped. Green glowing goop ran down my lenses. A dull rapid ticking barely pierced the ringing in my ears as I began to shake. “B-BRAD?!” He’d been standing there.. Talking.. and now he was.. I shook, slowly looking down at myself painted in green viscera.

A voice from above broke the ringing. “You killed mah brother ya psycho bitch!! Imma roast yer ass!!” I’d barely looked up in time to see Rocky-Road perched up the mountain chambering another round into his long-barreled pipe rifle.

“Don’t just stand there!” A new voice tackled me, literally and figuratively, out of my stupor. Much to my ‘Oof’ I was sent flying deeper into a rusted hallway that provided cover. He may have misjudged his strength as I didn't stop until I bounced off a wall.

Collecting my senses, and struggling to my hooves the world moved way too fast. Between me and outside was an earth-stallion as big as Bronze, but with possibly the cleanest white coat I’ve ever seen. A vibrant blue mane and goatee combo swayed gently in the breeze as he stood valiantly between me and a pony trying to blow a hole in me. “Wh-what? Who? How?!” I almost stammered my way to ‘when’, ‘where’, and ‘why’ before he started answering.

“Long story, name’s Moonstone, we’re saving your life, so stay down so you don't get shot.” he ordered before charging out into the open. The stallion was clad in an unholy amalgam of license plates, road signs, and scrap metal held together by numerous straps. He was more barded than the security ponies during the mine-hour protests last year!

He didn’t have a gun, but between his teeth was a- “Sweet Princesses is that a battleaxe?!” Sure it was made out of stop signs, pipes, and a massive sharpened gear, but what is this? Medieval times?!

I expected him to get shot immediately, but he dove behind a boulder before the next shot splintered the rock. Rocky reloading, this ‘Moonstone?’ resumed his charge up the mountainside. It’s not impossibly steep, but the climb to Rocky’s sniper nest made my legs ache in sympathy.

“Yall gonna die too! I’m turnin’ that mare into a hat if it’s the last thing ah do!” Rocky threatened letting loose another round.

I looked around the broken hallway Moonstone left me in. Behind me, the dark path leading into the crashed raptor, and ahead was potential bullet-based death. I could run away and probably escape out some other hole in the raptor. Or I could be a brave mare and charge valiantly at Brad’s murderer! Wait Brain! Don’t get sad yet! I can’t angry cry till the rest of me is safe!

“We can help with that latter part!” called another, a mare’s voice, followed by a string of smaller pops.

“Who the hell is that- AHH!!” I squeaked ducking down as metallic tinks, zips, and pings rang out all around me. Tiny bullet holes riddled the panels above me, and sparks flew as the airship got even more aerodynamic. “So that’s what spraying bullets sounds like… The more ya know.” Tiny Celestia waved an arch in the air making a rainbow between her hooves.

“Yer aim is shit!” Rocky-Road insulted from high above.

“Yer shit!” I retorted from the safety of my metal tunnel, only to have a much bigger bullet hole appear above me. “EEP!” My false sense of security! Nooo!!

Gunfire rang endlessly from outside, but the relative ‘safety’ of this hallway lost all comfort and also blocked my view of the fight. A back-and-forth exchange between the rapid pops of the mystery mare’s gun (guns?) and the booms of Rocky’s rifle. Wait a pony flippin’ minute.., I’m not helpless this time! I drew my new flintlock feeling a bout of self-narration coming on. “And I pulled out muh gun!~ And just like the gang mares in the ‘Just Say Neigh’ video, imma pop a cap in his ass!” By Celestia that sounded cool.. note to self, figure out what a cap is later. For now, the surge of bravery only firearms can provide calls me to violence!

I skittered my way toward’s the opening, keeping myself wedged between the floor and the wall. Ducking down a little further every time new bullet holes appeared above me.

“Stap flappin’ round! Yer makin’ this whole vengeance thing expensive!” Rocky yelled from on high. Unfortunately for him, he was about to have three ponies to deal with!

I came galloping out of the halfway, cranking the flintlock, and the senses flowed over me. In the open air, I could see where the gunfire was coming from. Rocky was hard to miss given the puke green coat and blonde mane on dark stones, the booms of whatever monster caliber he was firing, and… oh yeah, my EFS pointed him right out. The armor-clad Moonstone was still clinging to the slope, dipping boulder to boulder toward the sniper nest. Rocky was busy firing at.. the sky?

Rocky ducked as bullets rained down again, my eyes following the line of fire up to- Wings?! A pony with wings?! Wait-no! A Wing-Boner magaz- Ack! No! Bad Brain! It's a pegasus! And honest to Goddesses pegasus! And a dark purple one too! Wearing a tattered jacket and some kind of overcomplicated gun harness she flew about overhead. She had all the grace of a pony wasted on maint-shine falling down a mine shaft.. Or a paper airplane dipped in applesauce. She was all over the place, veering erratically, randomly dropping out of the sky, and had a turning radius bigger than the indoor track of the stable gym. Simply majestic~

Intentional or not she was dodging all his shots and proving ample distraction for the sniper. More distraction can only help, right? I took a deep breath and- “Screw your wallet! You killed Brad you puke green, pony-gobbling, heathen!” I bellowed with my scrawny mare lungs, drawing all three’s attention, stopping the fight to stare down at me in bafflement. “When I get up there, I'm gonna potato peel yer face off and use it to burrito wrap your brother’s dead dick! That way I can shove it down your throat! Ya sick fuck!”... where did that come from?! Brain?! The little Celestia off in the corner of my vision turned a nauseous green.. Sweet princesses, even I felt some nausea at the mental imagery.

Not that that was going to stop me. “I don't care if ya blow my head off! Ghosts are real enough I will personally ask Luna to come down here and shove her throbbing black horn up yer ass! Sideways!!” I jumped in place yelling up the mountain at him.

“If it’ll even fit!! There might not be room left after I buck my hoof so far up in there you’ll taste my horseshoes!” I don’t wear horseshoes but it's the thought that counts. “Then I’mma push further so I can reach around and kick ya in the face! Like a goddess damned cartoon!”

My two rescuers and potential killer stared down at me, probably seeing a small unicorn, covered in glowing roach gore, yelling her lungs out below. Moonstone and the wonder-pega briefly looked at each other, then down back at me before Moonstone spoke up. “You’re going to what?...”

“Please kill that bastard!” I shook my gun in Rocky’s general direction. “He’s a bucking pony eater! And he killed Brad!!” I wasn’t exactly counting how many times I cranked the flintlock, but the red sparks probably meant it was full. I fired, and with the cracking boom resounding off the mountain above, a thick beam of crimson seared right up to Rocky’s cliff! I.. missed, Which I kinda expected after that fight with the zombie. At least it made everpony recoil. “That's right! I got a big dick gun now too!!”

Rocky peeked over the cliff first. “Ha! Ya missed! Can’t hit for shit four-eyes, just like that stupid turkey up there!” Rusty taunted, pointing a hoof down at me. His cowpony hat gently wafting off the top of his head… smoldering. Reduced to a hat-shaped ring on the ground.

I blinked looking at the equally smoldering gun next to me. “Huh, that was actually kinda close…”

“That’s it!” Rocky growled, tossing the corpse of a hat off the cliff. “I WILL find a way to eat you twice!” He whipped the pipe rifle down at me, scoping in.

“Ah, shit…” I dove for a piece of hull jutting out of the ground. One shot making a yay big hole later, my newfound cover lost nearly all its value to me. “How big are those bullets?!” I protested, cranking the flintlock and returning fire up the cliff.

The battle was on~! Three versus one! I’d need to thank these ponies for saving me later. Do they like pickles?

It became a cycle. Rocky would fire, and the pegasus would strafe him.. Badly, Rocky would fire again, then I’d fire on him, he’d fire again, and I’d change my cover. Each only served to stop him from directly seeing me. Why does he have ‘screw your cover’ rounds?! And where’d he get so many of them?!

Moonstone made great progress on his climb, but the purple pegasus landed down behind the cover with me, panting. She may be exhausted, dirty, and looking really pissed at the moment but.. She had a certain bearing about her, about as focused on keeping her mane out of her eyes as she was on trying to kill this guy.

“Would you kindly tell me if the cover down here is effective?” Her voice was lofty, refined even.. dare I say even a tad posh? Just like the mare at the beginning of Dad’s holotape.

I blinked, needing a second to process “I uhhh… they..” Answering her question for me a new hole opened up in the hull fragment and kicked up a spout of scorched earth behind us. “No.” I meeped, blind-firing another red beam up in Rocky-Road’s general direction. My sheepish smile did little to reassure my newfound savior.

“Do find somewhere else then, we’re supposed to be saving you remember? Helpless stable pony being assaulted by a raider. Ring any bells?” her wings did a flap while she bit and pulled a strap on her harness. A number of mechanisms clicked and shifted a fresh box of rounds into the mounted firearms. Being this close I could take note of the tattered leather-looking jacket with numerous holes and rips. What stood out the most though was the Enclave symbols, faded but still quite visible on her jacket and saddlebags.

Cranking my flintlock again. “You’re here for me? Not your missing ship? You’re part of the flying pony Enclave or whatever it's called right? ” I gestured vaguely at the wrecked enclave raptor that also had a scuffed symbol emblazoned on the side.

“Grand.. Pegasus.. Enclave” she enunciated like I’d pronounced her name wrong for the umpteenth time. “And the… the..” she looked up and down the wreck.

“Fogbank…” I injected.

“The Fogbank wreck is far less important than saving a-.. Wow, that's really the Fogbank?” The pegasus looked up at the wreck again, more astonished this time. “that's been missing since the battle with Little-Pip I think.”

Another bullet hole perforated our cover. “Back to killing Rocky PLEASE?!” I protested trying to reel the mare back in while I aimed. I pulled the trigger and-

Click~

I blinked and pulled the trigger a few more times.

Clickclickclick….. click…

“Oh cmon! Not again! I just got you.” I huffed shaking the flintlock and repeatedly pulled the trigger. There was no glow from within the capacitor, and no matter how many times I turned the crank no life came to it. “Cmon I neeed youuu!” I started to panic. Knocking the gun agenst the scrap-hull a few times before trying again. Nothing. I looked down the lenses on the end. “I don't see anything in there blocking the laser-

A wing smacked the flintlock away from my face and into the dirt. “Are you bucking stupid?!”

“H-Hey!?” I protested as the gun flew away, hooves outreached for it.

“You could have blown your head off!!” she hissed looming over me as I fell back on my rear. “That's practically the second rule of all firearms! Never look down the barrel of a gun! Even if you think it’s broke!”

I raised my forehooves between my and her defensively. “Okay, okay geez! I’m sorry! Not like I’d know given I’m FROM A STABLE!!” I yelled back.

“Just like how you didn’t know guns need to be reloaded?” she squints.

“But it doesn't use bullets! Why would it need to be reloaded if the thingy is crank operated? HMM?! It’s magic!” I countered shaking the magical flintlock in my TK again for emphasis.

Rocky’s voice chimed in from above. “Actually, magical firearms still use ammunition just like any other gun. Sure, a crank is good enough fer flashlights, but they aint strong enough for much else. Odds are yer thingy there uses the crank to move measured charges from ah spark-cell into the chamber. Kinda like how ah revolver rotates bullets into tha barrel.”

I blinked looking at the gun again. “Huh…”

“Finally somepony out here who actually knows what they’re talking about.” the pega mare rolled her eyes. “So yes, just like what the raider pony up there said, you need to swap out the spark cell once you drain it.”

“Welcome~” Rocky chimed before chambering another round.

“Okay but how do I-?” I started to ask before Moonstone broke into the conversation.

“Oh, are we all just making friends now?! Please stop talking shop with the enemy and help me girls!” He yelled down from a small cliff about two stories below Rocky’s position.

The purple pegasus snapped back to attention. “Ughh I didn't want to be rude but... Sorry dear, pleasant conversation topic and all, but we’re supposed to be killing you. Do hold still.” The posh pega turned and tilted her body up toward Rocky’s perch before biting down a bit attached to the harness.

I covered my ears as a seemingly endless stream of bullets sprayed up the mountainside. Those were not long-range guns.. Both Rocky and Moonstone took cover as little puffs of rock and sparks peppered the mountainside. Many of the bullets went so wide they ricocheted around the wreckage making even more holes!

It was loud and I opened my mouth to protest. “You’re hitting literally everything but him-”

Ping! Pang! ZiiiiIIIPP!!

In the blink of an eye, one of the small bullets bounced around the wreck and suddenly my rear exploded into burning pain. A wet warmth I was far more familiar with running down my muzzle now spilled down my right hind leg. My forehooves shot back to hold my rear as I fell to the scorched ground. “Ahahahh! Sweet Celestia you Bucking shot MEEE!! WHHHYYY!?” I cried dropping my flintlock. “Holy Horseapples it hurhurhurhurrrtss!!”

The gunfire stopped only to be replaced by the cutting laughter of Rocky at my expense. “Karma’s a bitch ain't it! Heheheee!! Ya brother murderin’ psycho!”

“You.. st-started it!!” I managed to retort from my totally dignified position on the ground. Why do bullets burn?! I was expecting it to feel like getting stabbed by something really small! Why did I expect anything at all? I’m not supposed to be getting shot! I’ve dodged like…what?.. Over twenty of them so far?! Only to get shot in the ass by my rescuer?!

“Nuh uh! You killed mah- Wait! No! NO!!” Rocky cried followed by the heavy grunt of somepony else. The wet slash of heavy metal through pony flesh and the thump of a body hitting the ground.

“Phew! Finally got up here.” Moonstone panted using both forehooves and teeth to pull the battleaxe out of Rocky’s body. Taken out in a single swing. “Good job distracting him girls! Got him before he could go on some kinda tirade about Karma or some other nonsense.” he complimented from the sniper nest.

“Oh.. Oh dear~” Wonder-pega quickly galloped over to join me behind my portion of hull with concern in her voice. “I must say it was quite the accident, do let me have a looksie.” She's the one who shot me, why would I trust her with grievous wounds?! “Did your stable give you a healing potion?”

I blinked pausing my incredibly justified crying and looked up at her. “A what?...”

“A healing potion… comes standard with every MOP basic medical kit? Should patch a little graze like that in a matter of seconds. Honest It’s not as bad as you’re crying makes it sound.” Was this posh pega condescending me?! She shot me!

“I.. we… I just…” I quickly hovered the healing potion out of my bag. The pain in my rear rapidly went from a cramp-like burning sting to a dull ache, and eventually to nothing. I stood up walking in circles trying to look back to where I’d been hit. All that remained of what felt like a missing chuck of my flank were the blood stains that ran down my leg. “Wow, that is fast!”

“Told you~ Twas just a little flesh wound.” The pegasus chimed like this wasn't her fault in the slightest.

I squinted. “You’re the one who shot me though.”

“Merely an accident I had no way of prediction would happen.” she smiled, hoof to her chest in self-assurance. “Besides it was just a measly little graze. The damage was more to your dignity than your posterior. I dare say you could have walked it off without the potion.”

Maybe I needed to say it slower? Enunciate in case Ponish somehow devolved where she was from. “You.. shot.. me.. In.. the.. Asssss.”

“Well, would you be more grateful if I’d shot you in the kidney? Or mayhaps we just let that cannibal up there take a bite out of you? Hmm?” Curse you heroic high ground!

Moonstone’s voice came down from above again. “Hey check it out! I didn’t break the gun!” Looking up I saw the buck raising the blood-splattered weapon in his teeth… fortunately away from the blood. “Ifff fing ish shil lofffed. Hef fed hons of vulleps- Oops!” the long barreled thing slipped from his mouth and went tumbling down the mountainside. “Butter hooves. Look out!”

‘That’s the second pony to mention butter..’ was the first thought to cross my mind before the butt of the gun hit the ground and went off with another BANG!! The bullet zipped around the debris field of the FogBank. My head couldn’t turn fast enough to keep up with where it went until one final Ziip!! And my rear exploded into burning pain again. The exact.. same.. spot. But WORSE!!

“For the love of the Goddesses WHYYY!?” I screamed collapsing and holding my rear again. A new wave of red ran down my leg as the burning ache all throughout my rear was back with a vengeance. “What is with you surface ponies and shooting me in the ass?!”

Moonstone winced peering over the cliff as I lay there in flank-based agony! “Ohh… My bad! Just uhh… I’ll be right down.” He said before beginning the journey back down the same way he got up.

Despite my urge to glare and pin all my pain on the big white buck, it was an accident. I couldn’t even deny it was an accident, seriously what were the odds?!

Posh-Pega stood next to me digging through her saddlebags. “I apologize for my… Associate blowing a chunk out of your flank.. again. He’s about as crude as most of the other surface ponies, but it was his idea to save you, so he means well.” I’d find that a lot more comforting if I didn’t feel mildly insulted at the same time.

“I’m a surface.. pony.” I groaned laying in the charred grass.

She perked realizing how that might have sounded “Oh erm..” The pegasus glances around clearly looking for a social save. “I didn't mean ponies like you dear. I meant the wastelanders. You know, like the savage that wanted to kill you?” She pulled a scuffed healing potion bottle out with her teeth and set it next to me. “Here, take one of mine to make up for such a social faux pas”

Never before have I drunk something so fast, borderline inhaling the healing potion. Thank the goddesses those things can’t expire! You’d think a potion that promotes rapid cellular regrowth would be super vulnerable to spoiling, but no. Saint Fluttershy made sure her cherry-flavored wonder fluids lasted forever. “Oh goddesses that’s so much better…” I panted and tossed the bottle while the searing pain in my flank faded away once more.

“You’re welcome~” The pegasus smiled standing proud once more. “It’s an enclave scout’s duty to protect the citizenry and the defencless~”

“What part of protecting the citizenry involves shooting a mare in the ass while saving her?” I asked finally sitting up and squinting.

“Well…” the wind leaving her sails. “Th-That was an accident! but umm.. Collateral damage is nary a concern in the face of saving lives!” aaand her wind was back.

“Right… my flank was collateral in saving my flank.” I squinted harder folding my forehooves as I sat on my newly un-shot rear. Yep.. I am literally butt-hurt.

She glanced around again trying to word her way out of this. Her wings tucked tightly to her sides “Well when you word it like that.. Yes.” she meeped before Moonstone showed up to save the pegasus.

“Hey Lucy, you manage to patch the target?” he asked, scrap-metal armor clanking with every set as he trotted over with the bloody battleaxe stowed.

‘Lucy’ groaned and glared at the buck. “How many times do I need to say not to call me that? My name is Noctilucent, would you please say it right?”

“No~” He said with a small smirk. “Your name’s a mouthful and takes too long to say in combat. Plus it pisses you off, so win-win.” he teased leaning in a little for emphasis making Lucy’s wings flap indignantly as she huffed and growled.. I like this pone.

He turned to me. “So uhh.. Ass still attached?” he asked concernedly looking me over.

Confirming my flank was still there I answered. “Very, not for a lack of trying to blow it off though.” I squinted at the both for a moment making Lucy cough and look away while Moonstone rubbed his neck with a hoof.

“Yeaaah, Totally an accident though. I mean what are the odds right? Shot in the ass by a 9-mil and a 50-cal in less than a minute without losing a leg? I’d be B-lining it to Tenpony Tower and buying all the lottery tickets I could after cartwheeling through a landmine factory.”

“Sure, that sounds great! Where is that?” I asked bringing up my pipbuck and tapping a hoof on the screen that only had four points of interest on it. “HMM?!” I tapped faster.

“Wow, you are a grumpy unicorn…” Lucy commented from behind Moonstone.

Oh, an opportunity to go off, how lovely. “Me? Grumpy? Naawww!!” I nawwed throwing my head back for sarcastic emphasis. “I’m just a pony who was practically thrown out of her stable into a wasteland she didn’t know existed. I’ve dealt with corpses, rot, mold, radiation, constant nausea, ghosts, zombies, wildfires, cannibals, and raining fire!” I threw my hooves in the air and continued despite this welling feeling inside. “On top of that!! I’ve nearly been murdered twice in less than a day. Shot in the ass by BOTH my rescuers, AAAND I’m covered in the gore of the only friend I’ve ever had!!” I… collapsed. Flopping on the ground and burning my face in my goop-covered limbs.

“He killed your friend?” Lucy spoke up sounding more concerned than when she shot me.

“Yes, he killed Brad!!” My head shot back up letting the tears run down my goop-smeared muzzle. “Splattered him! He saved my life multiple times and has been my only source of company since I left 83!”

“Ooooh…” Moonstone winced in sympathy as he looked down on. “I Umm.. I’m sorry about your pet radroach. Knew a merc that had a pet bloatsprite once. Key word being ‘had’ cause It got shot by a raider too.”

“Moonstone!” Lucy decried. “You’re going to make the poor mare feel worse!”

“Now hold on, I wasn't done!” he got defensive before resuming. “I mean think about it like this. I’m sure your pet radroach meant alot to you right?”

I sniffled looking up at him wobbly-eyed through my glasses. “Yee…” I whimpered.

“Exactly. So much like the guy’s bloat-sprite, your radroach dying saved your life! And I’m sure he’d appreciate that sentiment… Brad was a he right?” he smiled sheepishly. Excellent performance but failed the landing spectacularly.

“Yeah, that’s fair.. “ I sighed and sniffed down on the ground. A warmth began to run down my muzzle. “Oh Goddesses Damn it not again!” I sat up holding my wrist to my nose as red spilled over my stained sleeve.

Lucy and Moonstone glanced at each other looking concerned before Lucy spoke up this time. “Are you.. Alright? You just had those healing potions, something that could cause a nosebleed should have healed already.”

I waved her off with a free hoof. “No it’s fine, I get nosebleeds all the time when I get worked up. Totally normal.” I answered rapidly devolving into a mouth breather with my nose blocked.

“All the time?” Lucy tapped a hoof to her chin. “Then why would it start after you already calmed down?...” She pondered a few seconds more and blinked. “Get that stable suit off now!” She ordered pointing at me.

I, startled as I should be by her outburst, scooted back. “What?! Why?! No!”

“Cause you’re getting microwaved alive!” she yelled running over, biting and pulling at my stable suit.

“I am not!” I flailed as the Pegasus did all in her power to try and rob me of my suit!

“You don’t have time for to argue! Moonstone help me!” Lucy ordered biting at the ‘cleaner’ end of my stable suit around my waist to try and peel it up and off me.

Moonstone inquisitively nosed at one of the sign plates over his left forehoof, biting a strap and flipping it open revealing he too had a pipbuck. One quick wave of it near me and the crackle of rads started going off “Oh buck she’s right! Strip her now!” he dove in too.

My panic at being pounced on and stripped by two ponies I just met was as justified as it was inconvenient. “Wait nooo!!” much flailing ensued.

***

I glared at the two, standing there, deprived of my stable suit, and shivering in the gentle breeze blowing ash around my hooves. Just me, my glasses, and my birthday suit. “I feel naked!” I protested watching the others do their best to wipe the glowing goop off my possessions over yonder!

“Trust me I know the feeling~” Moonstone chimed in from across the way.

“What’s that supposed to even mean?!” I asked waving my hooves… why is it suddenly so chilly out here?!

“Guess!” he teased taking a rag to my saddlebags.

I grumbled and pouted, folding my hooves and hunching down on the spot. “Freezing Celestia’s tits off over here…” I grumbled wrapping my legs around myself. “Colder than Nightmare-Moon’s cunt sitting on a snowcone…” I grumbled louder! I need to take my mind off it, the more I think about it the colder the breeze feels. “Ughh!”

“Ya know we still haven’t got your name yet.” Moonstone called again, tossing yet another rag over into a now glowing pile of rags.

“Sketchy!” I called back.

“Sketchy what? Chem dealer? Shop owner? Engineer?” goddesses he was making a list…

“No! It’s just Sketchy! When can I get my stuff back?! It's cold out here!”

Seems it was Lucy’s turn to answer as she came over after putting my suit in a small metal box. “Will you two please stop yelling? You’re only twenty feet away and your voice carries around here.” she scolded pulling out a baggie of… orange juice? Wait no, it's the rad-away from my saddle bag. “Now drink this before your mane falls out.”

I hovered over the bag turning it over and looking for where I’m supposed to open it. “Where do I…” I trailed off looking back up to Lucy standing there with a plastic scraw clearly stolen from some unfortunate juice box. I took it and jammed it into the baggie and started drinking. Good job Saint Fluttershy, it tastes how it looks… bright orange.

“Instructions on the back say to tear the corner, but that can get messy so I keep a straw on me. A mare needs to look dignified even when purging her body of radiation~ After all a gentle-stallion might be watching.” says one of the only two non-naked ponies within rock-throwing distance.

“Pretty sure bucks don’t care if you drink your life-saving drugs out of a straw or not. If anything I’m pretty sure they’d like it more if you were covered in the stuff.” I commented tipping drink/rad-away at her. “Bucks like a wet n sticky mare, especially if it was an ‘accident’” I air-quote before I resumed sipping. Not that I could talk having never actually asked a buck what they were into.. But she didn’t know that!

She deadpanned at me, which I probably deserved. “Life is not Issue #217 of Wing-Boner magazine Sketchy. Only uncouth and thuggish bucks would ever partake in such a fantasy. No, I speak of a more refined gentlepony. Clean, well-mannered, refined tastes, and believe it or not literate in more than just trashy smut rags.”

Well, this pega sure was opinionated. And wrong!! Wing-boner magazine is work of art! Still, my reflexes to social confrontation betrayed me. “Fair…” I responded calmly and kept sipping my not-juice. Spine! Where’d you go? How am I to defend all smut-kind without you?!

Checking out my pipbuck though I watched the rad meter I neglected slowly go down. ‘531/1000’… ’472/1000’... ’350/1000’... and so on. Why wasn't it rattling though when I started taking all these rads?.. Or was I really so distracted didn't hear it ticking away? “Hey wait a second… how’d you know the exact issue I was referring to?” I leaned in, squinting in judgment.

Without a fault in composure, Lucy answered “Well darling if you must know, the state of literature down here on the surface is as abysmal as it is moldy. Entire generations were raised on the idea that books were for starting fires to roast their siblings over, rather than reading the enlightenment they contained. Thus most surface ponies only know about pegasi from a hoofful of sources. Pre-war propaganda posters, everything the Stable-Dweller wrote in her book, and unfortunately.. Smut.” she sighed glaring beyond me in mild disgust as if the subject stood behind me picking its nose. “In a world where ponies would rather burn a dictionary than a bundle of tattered, long dead, trick-pony pictures… you learn a lot of the references.”

“Also Fair…” Again there was my lack of a comeback or way to keep the subject rolling without making Lucy angry. I need time to prep for social interaction, this freeballing stuff is hard! Still I sipped until the rad-away crumpled in on itself.

“I will never understand you surface ponies' fascination with wings. They're just a set of extra limbs. I mean really, it's like If I lusted after hooves like some sort of degenerate. It makes no sense.” Lucy continued, even as her own massive pair did a light flap in her mild agitation.

“Well on behalf of all the perverted degenerates the surface has to offer, I will play discord’s advocate.” Tossing the spent baggie aside I sat up straight, took a breath, and ran a hoof through my mane! Defending ponies like me must be my prerogative!

“Please don’t… I don’t think Moonstone can spare the brain cells if he overhears such a one-sided conversation.” Lucy glanced over to where the armored buck was still scrubbing my saddlebags with yet another rag.

Undaunted I had a point to make! “Look, from everything I've learned about what ponies are and aren't into-” I will not say where I learned such things. “Ponies finding wings attractive is basically the same thing as ponies finding unicorns with large horns attractive.” I smiled confidently pointing a hoof to my own.

“Hmm.. we’ll have to ask a big horned unicorn if that’s true when we find one.” Lucy said so casually as my soul shattered like glass upon the crispy grass. “Hey, Moonstone?” She called. “You don't know any massive horned unicorns along Route 10 do you?”

Moonstone’s head came up from my now clean -er looking saddlebags and tossed another glowing rag aside. “Well, there is this one wizard pony near Whitetail Forest, but that old ghoul doesn’t really take visitors so no,” he answered back, grinding my soul into sand. Not even he thought my horn was big. “Why? Is our little stable dweller cursed or something?”

I might as well be cursed! My welled-up confidence left my lungs in a drawn-out wheeze taking my posture with it. My horn… isn’t large? But… but.. It's at least average right?! RIGHT?!

“Are you alright dear? You’re going a bit pale. Do you need another rad-away?” Lucy asked concernedly quickly looking me over.

I shot up grabbing her by the collar of her fluffed jacket in my hooves… somehow. “Please tell me my horn is at least average!” I needed to know! What if stable life turned all the unicorns I know into calcium deficient stunty horned freaks?! What if I'M ONE?! What if I turn into some kind of alcoholic wasteland psycho killing everypony in my path with a massive pile of guns cause my horn is small?! “Tell me!!”

“What are you talking about! Let go of me at once!” Lucy struggled but my grip was greater.

Moonstone came running over in a hurry. “What's going on over here?” Assertively getting his big earthpony hooves between us to pry me off the doubt-sewing pega.

“Tell me my horn is at least average!” My forehooves flailed wimpily at Lucy.

He quickly looked to Lucy. “For the love of Equia-firma, what did you say to her this time Lucy?”

Trying to keep away Lucy hid behind the armored buck. “I don’t know, we were just talking about horn sizes or something and she just went off.”

“Was that why you-” He facehoofed and groaned. “You see, this is why I keep saying you should leave the talking to me. How can a mare as hoity-toity as you manage to offend everypony we meet? The guards, the raiders, the caravans, every ghoul we’ve ever met, and now this little stable pony we just rescued. How?!”

He said little! Was it about my horn? About me?! BOTH?!

“I don’t get it, what’s the big deal? It’s just a piece of booone!” she whined in a tone that made my ears crumble nearly as fast as my ego.

“That! That right there! Never mention horn size around a unicorn unless their sporting a sky-piercer that could intimidate an alicorn. Got it?!”

I curled up on the ground at this point with my forehooves on my horn trying to mentally calculate average lengths “My horn’s normal.. Totally normal. I use it regularly.. I polish it like I’m supposed to, I’ve never had a horn cavity. Even if they are a myth I’ve never had one…” I mumbled to myself only sounding a wee bit deranged.

Moonstone and Lucy argued back and forth for a good minute while I worked on my improvised hoof measurements. Seems like these situations were super common for the two, they argued like Tulip’s parents whenever she brought home a new buck-friend. Lucy must have a habit of offending basically everypony who isn’t her, and Moonstone has to fix it every time. Arguing in circles, mostly him trying to make Lucy see her mistake and her saying how ridiculous it was. Eventually I kinda just forgot about my horn and watched them go.

“In conclusion-” Moonstone turned back to me with a soft smile and a pat of his big hoof on my head. “Yes sketchy, your horn is in fact at least average, I’d even guess you have an inch or two above average. You clearly take care of your horn and the effort shows.” Oh goddesses I’m being patronized!

You know, if it were only the words I’d have said he was full of horse apples, buuut the smile and headpats sold me. I.. felt better. “I umm… thanks..” I stayed shrunk down after the pats and felt a tinge warmer. Lightly dragging circles in the dirt with a hoof. I’m not bashful, you’re bashful!

“Way to go coltsanova, you got another mare red as a tato~ proud of yourself?” Lucy sighed looking at the buck eyes half-lidded. I certainly got redder and turtled further.. Or was the term geckoed?

Moonstone groaned. “Will you let that go already? It’s not like that, you shattered a unicorns ego and I’m fixing it, again! And before you even start, that whole mutfruit merchant incident was on you miss ‘You’ll cover me right?’.”

I slowly uncompressed and struggled to look at the buck for a moment. “Are… are you two married or something?” I asked, eyebrow raised and pointing between the two. “Cause you argue like it.”

“Pfft, Her? Not a chance.” Moonstone rolled his eyes.

“You wish!” huffed lucy in indignation stamping a hoof. “See if I patch you up next time another dashhead stabs your tone posterior.”

“Oh you will, you’re helpless without me, just too proud and feather-brained to admit it.” He jabbed “Either way, here’s your saddle-bag back.” he added hanging the bags back over me.

The real question though. “What about my suit?” I asked looking at the little metal box a couple yards away. “We can wash it riiight?” I want my suit back!

Moonstone began to beam a little “Certainly! What kind of stallion would I be if I didn't help a wayward mare in distress? Especially a stable dweller down on her luck?”

“A practical one…” quipped Lucy behind him.

“A dick…” I added to the answers.

“But you’re too nice for practicality, aren't you? I mean we did save her life, and you just can't help but get more good-boy points in.” Lucy sighed, hoof to her cheek like she heard lunch hour was getting cut short today.

Moonstone grumbled louder bordering on the ever-dangerous grumpy scowl. “We're helping her, and that's final. If you want to pout about it Lucy you can walk to Applewood on your own.”

“I keep telling you it’s Noctilucent!” she growled stamping that hoof again. Oh yeah, he’s totally doing it on purpose.

My pipbuck pinged and looking down at the screen I saw a new icon appear far to the west. A new icon labeled ‘Applewood’ highlights a halfway doughnut-shaped region hugging the coastline and at its center another icon. The ruins of Los-Pegasus.. Neat!

“So we're going to hit route 10, pay a little visit to Bubble Town, and backtrack back to New Apploosa to get the little lady here supplied. Should only take a day or two, and if she feels like it, she can come along to Applewood too.” Moonstone laid out the plan leaving Lucy to grumble and pout even harder.

“Fiiine!” Lucy relented “But if we stop for something like a stray cat and your bleeding heart wants to take it back to yet another town I’m leaving you behind.”

My pipbuck pinged again as a tag for Bubble Town appeared along Route 10. Where was Old Apploosa pipbuck?! You know where the new one is!

I raised a hoof. “Hey umm… who, what, when, where, and why is Bubble Town?”

Moonstone blinked. ‘Oh right, keep forgetting I’m dealing with sompony even less informed than the Enclave~”

“Hey! We know plenty!” Lucy protested getting a tinge darker in the muzzle.

“Oh yeah? Then why is Bubble Town even around?” He queried leaning in a bit with a dash of smuggium in his smirk.

“Cause… umm…” Lucy quickly glanced around biting her lip before quickly pulling out yet another pipbuck up. It was sleeker and blacker than mine, aerodynamic I guess. “I-Its a trading town! Serving as a rest stop for the caravans traveling along route 10.”

“And?” He added, smuggium levels rising. “What else does your almighty Enclave intel say about little ole Bubble Town? Come ooooonnn~ It's the worst kept secret in the wasteland economy.”

I slowly raised a hoof again. “..Strippers?”

“No…”

“Booze?”

“No..”

“Blackjack and hookers?”

Moonstone turned to me again. “Just what did your stable teach you about the surface girl?!”

“I’m just covering my bases! I got a B in surface class!” These were honest and important questions! “I know it’s the world’s oldest profession and all that! And I can tell the difference between a tomato and a potato!”

“Oh lookie, the coltsanova is yelling at our poor rescuee, there’s no need to be crass with the poor dear.” Lucy trotted over getting her wing around me and wearing her own smuggium smirk. It’s so soft… so warm, just like my suit. Aww yeah~ “We can take..erm..” she paused glancing at me.

“Sketchy..” I filled in for my new feathered blanket.

“We can take Sketchy here to this ‘Bubble Town’-” she air-quoted with the pinion feathers of her free wing. “And get her cleaned up, show her the sights, and all the other wholesome things you want to treat her to.”

“So what’s so special about Bubble Town?” I asked slowly starting to nuzzle my way deeper into the wing over me, absorbing the fluffy warmth. It's so good.. And smells so pretty.

After a brief sigh of defeat, Moonstone perked back up. He picked the box up by a little handle with his teeth and tossed it with suspiciously perfect aim onto his back. “Fresh out of the stable and you get to see one of the great wonders of the wasteland~” he smiled. “The last working washing-machine!”

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Musket mare/stallion (rank 1)

-Revoluuuutiooonnn!!!! *cough* I mean uhh… Your skill in musket-like MEW weaponry has grown. Whenever you load 1 charge into such a weapon you can load 2 in the same amount of time, up to the weapon’s capacity. (this skill does not apply to motorized cranks or automatic variants)

Achievement perk Unlocked: Burning Down the House (rank 2)

-Seriously, again? The GM let you do this again? Having caused another accidental wildfire you've gotten even more used to the heat, both literal and legal. +10 fire resistance.

Chapter 7: Just-Say-Neigh

Fallout Equestria: The Lunar Archives
(By: Lakeel)
Chapter 7: Just-Say-Neigh

The stars rose high above and a cool breeze had fallen over the land. The gentle waving of long dead grass in rhythmic ripples around the broken asphalt of Route 10 could be relaxing to many a pony. Sadly, plopped around a campfire was a mare who was anything but.

“I will kill a mare!” I complained to the heavens rueing the loss of my stable-suit.

Moonstone prodding at the campfire with a stick rolled his eyes “Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’s maybe sixty degrees out here, you’re not going to shrivel and die.”

“It’s bucking cold!” I retorted, shriveling and dying. I scooched my rear closer to the fire and kept my forehooves wrapped around my body.

“Are all stable ponies like this without constant access to air-conditioning? A slight dip in temperature and you have a complete meltdown? Or is it just you?” Lucy asked looking perfectly unphased by the freezing breeze passing us by, hogging all the toasty soft wings for herself!

“No! We just… I uhh… sh-shut up! The surface is cold!” I’m not wrong, she’s wrong!

“It's only a mild chill on the wind dear, nothing to fuss about. Rather, this would be considered pleasant weather in most of the world.” Lucy’s pinion feathers around the handle, she sighed and sipped from an Enclave-stamped mug. The simple cup was probably the most polished and pristine thing I’d seen yet.. Next to Moonstone.

“Yeah, in the attic!” I pouted.

“Uhh.. Don't you mean the Arctic?” Moonstone questioned before tossing the poking stick into the fire too. He still looked spotless even after gathering all this wood without being axe murdered… what was his secret? Axe murderers always wack the pretty ones first!

“Same thing” I grumbled getting even closer to the flames, finally starting to feel normal. “Oh, that's so much better…” I sighed soaking in the warmth.

Moonstone looked briefly confused. “I hate to break it to you but an attic is a room people store stuff in, and the Arctic is basically the polar ice caps.” I deliberately slow-blinked at him in silence. “If this were the Arctic, which it isn't, there would be ice everywhere and rad-penguins. This is just Fall weather.” At the mention of ‘Fall’ some dead leaves drifted by on the wind. “You do know what Fall is right?” He asked with a sheepish trying-to-be-nice smile.

“Yes, I know what Fall is.” My horn glew bringing over a nearby rock which I let drop to the ground. “See? Fall.” I pointed at the rock. “AKA gravity. Cause some buck named Eye-sack Newtrot or whatever got konked In the head with an apple and said he invented gravity. Even though the princesses had already made gravity, he somehow got credit for the discovery. And because of him we now have the equations to figure things out like bending light, black holes, and why Equis is round.” Fly my high-school education! Fly! I listed scientific facts, counting off on my hooves… more the same hoof repeatedly. “And how we know Equis weighs six by ten to the twenty-fourth power kilograms. Cause six is the holy number and the princesses made it so.”

The tiny princesses in the corner of my vision chiseled away at a little globe and high-hooved together at their genesis skills. Those who couldn't see the princesses glanced concernedly to each other and then back to me.

Lucy was the first to throw her thoughts in the ring. “Well Isn’t that something? Our stable dweller here is both an erudite and a religious nut.”

“Religious nut?” I tilted my head, my mental process skipping a few ones and zeros.

Moonstone quickly stepped in. “What she means to say is uhh.. We meant Fall as in the season. Not the entire history of gravity darlin’.” he was doing that smile again, like I’d said something stupid and he was trying to be nice and deflect.

I squint upon his deflection! “But I’ve never heard of a spice called fall. Is it like the cafe’s pumpkin spice or-” I started but Lucy barely contained a snorty giggle.

After another sip of what I assumed was tea to calm her posh giggles.“That was possibly the grandest display of poorly founded knowledge I’ve heard yet. True, it’s more than most Luddites down here have, but honestly. So many holes It’s like you built your ivory tower on a foundation of pumice.”

“Lucy!” Moonstone protested turning towards Noctilucent and stamping a hoof. “Seriously?! Are you trying to drive her off? We haven’t even had her for twenty-four hours and you're already blasting her like everypony else we meet.” Sweet Celestia Lucy was right… His posterior is toned! Chiseled like bucking marble!

“Whaaat?” Lucy’s head leaned back, wing to her chest in feigned astonishment. “Would you rather I say nothing and let her continue smearing misinformation across the wasteland?”

“Yes!” Moonstone growled now using his big-buck voice. “We’d already be in Applewood by now with your Enclave buddies if you weren’t calling everypony you meet stupid, uncultured, and dirty!”

“But they aaaaare!!” She whined shrinking down proportional to Moonstone’s volume. “It's not my fault they’re wrong!”

There they go again, it hadn’t even been a day and the two were arguing again.

“Hey wait a second…” I rubbed a hoof to my chin and it finally clicked. “I know what pumice is!” I stood to turn my scratching hoof into my accusation hoof. “At least my Ivory tower holds water! The goddesses made everything, defeated discord, and ruled Equestria in harmony for a thousand years! What did the enclave teach you? That the sky is blue cause of the ocean and not light refraction? That feather extensions aren't super noticeable?!”

Lucy gasped in visceral indignation. “How DARE you even associate me with those awful things!”

“So they are real!” I knew it!

“Feather extensions are the physical manifestations of lies and slander! Just like your horn size!” She pointed a hoof back.

Twas my turn to gasp in indignation. “Y-yeah well…well.. Yer dumb!!” Yeah, that’ll teach her!

“Girls!!” Moonstone yelled in such aggravation I skittered away and peered over the edge of a fallen log… bravely! “Do I need to physically separate you two? Cause I will find a stick to wap the both of you if it keeps you from arguing all night.”

I like any reasonable mare cowered- I mean bravely shivered behind the log contemplating the idea of corporal punishment. I should have known the surface had devolved to such barbaric practices!

“You wouldn’t dare! I’m not some toddler you can just- ow!” Lucy yelped getting wapped with one of the spare poking sticks.”Did you seriously just- Owww!! Stop it!” She whined and shielded herself with her wings while Moonstone wapped away every time she kept arguing.

“Yeff…yeff ah fid.” he muffled around the yay long stick in his mouth.

“Ha!” I pointed from behind the log. “Serves you right for calling my horn sma- ACK!” my hooves darted to my head. I too have suddenly become the victim of a vicious wapping… my momentary opinion of Moonstone forever changed. “Hit her not me! Ow!! She started it! Ah! Stop hitting me!!” I flailed!

One vicious stickening later, there were two grumpy mares sitting around the campfire no longer arguing. And a very smug-looking Moonstone enjoying the quiet to boot. “See? Isn’t this peace and quiet nice?” he smiled looking like the most content buck for miles.

Lucy and I grumbled and squinted at eachother from across the fire while distant bunny chirps.. I mean ‘cricket’ chirps added their song to the rustling of the gentle breeze.

I yawned finally breaking the silence. “Welp, I’m going to bed.” and with all the effort it deserved I flopped over on my side. This patch of dead grass felt softer than the others…or at least that's what I told myself.

Moonstone rubbed his chin. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll be in Bubble Town tomorrow morning, I can almost see the lights from here,” he added whilst digging around in his pack before pulling out a spotless pillow. “Hello, memory foam~ remember me?” He sighed giving the pillow a brief squeeze before placing in on the ground atop a blanket.

Lucy rolled her eyes and wiggled into an enclave-stamped sleeping bag. “You say that every night. I don't think the memory foam is going to forget you If that's even possible.”

“I just like saying it okay? It’s ironic.” It sounded like he needed it too, even big bucks got tired… especially of stuck-up pegasi heathens that won’t share their wing floof!

That did give me an idea though. Thus far I’d been sleeping on the bare grass and you know what? I’m starting to feel it! My spine isn't supposed to feel this bucked up till I’m 40… or until I score a big coltfriend. I reached into my saddlebags and pulled out the stuffed radroach “B-Rad~” I sighed holding the loveable button-eyed plush between my hooves. Brief flashes of all the times Brad appeared out of nowhere with his galavanting advice…I squeezed.

Squeeeeeak~

Oh, I needed that. The simple squeak of Brad’s effigy caressing my soul made it feel like he was still here. Like I was holding that glorious wonder-roach.

“Is that a stuffed animal dear?” Lucy noted peering up from her sleeping bag. “Arnt you a bit old for-”

“Ehh!” Moonstone cut her off, like a chastised pet. “I can still reach the stick. Don't even think about giving her shit for using a stuffed animal as a pillow.”

“But…” Lucy quickly glanced at the stick before squinting and going to bed in defeat. “Humph!”

Moonstone briefly smiled to me before fully laying on his side with pillow under one leg. “You go ahead and sleep.. I’ll keep watch for raiders.”

I refused to argue! Im sure the squeak of my face ramming into the stuffed radroach conveyed my thanks enough. To bask in its soft warmth after a long day of walking, waiting for the sweet release of- Zzz….

—-------------------------------

Alone in the void once more, though now I waded through the mist of the Fog-Bank. The clouds swirled about yet my glasses didn't… oh my glasses were missing again. Goddesses damn it, can’t my dreams keep that one part right?! You'd think wearing those transparent jar lids all the time would cement them in my dreams!

I groaned into the void and started trudging forth into the fog, my hooves sloshing. “Let me guess! Am I trudging my way through pony soup again? Or is this going to be one of those bed-wetting undead jump-scare type dreams?!” I yelled to the void trudging faster.

“Seriously! After the week I’ve had would it kill Brain or Luna to dig up some of the good old dreams? Like the one where I was getting tag-teamed by PJ and Bronze?! But Noooo! I get this spooky shit!” I waved a hoof at the mist. “Cmon! Get the manifestations of my mental scarring over with. I wanna wake up and eat canned tacos if I’m not gonna get some closure with B-Rads’s ghost or plowed by dream… Pickle…” I trailed off as silhouettes manifested in the mist around me. The shades of six ponies walking in sync around me. I step, they step. I spun, they spun. Great… doppelganger dreams now.

There were ‘subtle’ differences between all the outlines though. One round and one pointy. One with a long tail and another with a straightened mane. One darker, and the last with flames whisking off its body.

“Well… this is not what I expected.” I tried waving to the shades but they only waved back in mirrored unison. “Huh…”

Aaaand SNAP!! The floor gave out from under me and I plunged into the formerly ankle-deep water! I was surrounded by darkness and murky brown. Bones and bits of tattered flesh floating suspended around me. But worst of all was the countless rotting copies of me clamoring up to me. Logically I remembered… I can't swim.. and started sinking rapidly towards the Zom-Mes. I also, quite bravely, screamed like a filly.

My scream gurgled, bubbled, and rose up through my floating mane while many hooves grabbling at my hinds. Then, in an instant, I was dry. My totally brave screams less gurgly now. Upon opening my eyes I was back in that blank inky void…minus the fog and soup. “Th…th…” I gulped, panting for air. My legs shook, and my chest pounded. “That’s NOT FUNNY!! It’s not funny, and it’s creatively bankrupt!”I yelled to the black starless sky.

A gentle breeze within this twisting dream carries a mare's voice consoling me “I’m sorry about your friend dear. This sort of thing happens a lot these days.” With the breeze came small amounts of the mist rising from the floor, coalescing into the shape of a radroach. It too was soon blown away leaving behind the stuffed animal version of Brad… which I promptly picked up and squeezed.

Squeaaaaak~

It’s like I could feel him skitter over me and somehow it didn’t feel gross. “What are you sorry for? You’re not the reason Brad got splattered.”

There was a brief pause but her voice came again on another breeze. “Well… technicaly…” I swear I could hear some forehooves tapping together. “Technically I’m the one who woke you up, so you could kill Brick, and in turn incurred the wrath of his little brother…”

“Sure, but I would have died if you didn’t! Or worse! There's like minimum four steps of separation between you and Brad getting murdered.”

Another faster wind carried the mystery buck’s voice.. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him! Glorious bastards like that don’t stay dead long~ I’d know. I’m a professional bastard.” He giggled, and drops of whimsy rained down, plinking around me. The drops looked brown and… is this chocolate? wait-

“Brads ALIVE?!” I beamed.

“Ehhhh- close enough. You’ll figure it out eventually, protagonists have a tendency to do that sort of thing.” the disembodied buck answered.

“That's less comforting but… Who are you two anyways?”

“Oh! Can we tell her? The suspense has been killing me for several chapters now! The grand reveal, the pulling back of the first curtain, The first drop of meta in her information soup?”

The mare groaned sounding like she facehoofed. “No, not yet… She needs to figure it out on her own. Otherwise, she won’t appreciate the gravity of it.”

“Part of my imagination?” I guessed, pointing a hoof up at the voices.

A buzzer rang above. “Ehh! Wrongo my dear Sketcho! Try again later you little mad-mare you~!” the buck added as specks of confetti drifted down onto my mane.

“The night grows thin, she’s going to wake soon.” the surroundings were starting to lighten up from black to grey. “Oh and Sketchy?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from the Mint-als” The mare added starting to fade. “Rarity worked really hard on that ‘Just-Say-Neigh’ video for a reason.”

Wait what? “Saint Rarity made that lame-ass movie? I thought it was Princes Luna’s Idea… and What’s a Mint-al?-”

“It's not lame! It's educational! To save Equestria’s youth from chem abuse! ”

“Do ALL the Mint-als Sketchy!” the mystery buck barged in. “It’ll be fun! Trust me!...fun!….fun!…” He echoed away with the dream and-

—----------------------

I groaned even louder as the sick and twisted joke called the waking world reeled me back in from Luna’s blissful realm of escapism. “Wait a second… his echo was out of order!” I weakly felt around trying to feel where my glasses might have rolled off cause I didn't take them off. “Should have been… ‘me’ over and over again not… ughh!”

Everything past the bridge of my muzzle was a goddess-damned blur, but I did find my glasses. Upon application, I saw a very concerned-looking Moonstone and Lucy standing a few feet away from me. Battle-axe raised and SMGs aimed respectively. “Guys? What's goin’ on?”

Moonstone stepped a little close looking… above me? “Sketchy whatever you do… don’t move. There’s a radroach on your head, and if you startle it it might bite you.”

“I’m telling you I can shoot it rather than you risk lopping her head off.” Lucy added in a hushed strained tone.

“You’d swiss cheese everything but the radroach Lucy!”

“My name.. is.. Noctilucent!” she strained harder.

I don't know if it was the drowsiness but I slowly blinked unable to process what the two were so stressed out about. Now that I think about it, I did feel a weight atop my head and something pushing down on my mane. I slowly reached my forehooves up and picked the thing up by the sides bringing it down infront of me. It was indeed a rad-roach! “Oh hey buddy~” I smiled sleepily looking at the adorable lil guy in all his beady eyes brown bugness. It chittered and his six lil legs wiggled in the air. “No you can’t stay on my head, I gotta go places tomorrow… today~” I swayed, still a little half asleep before setting the roach aside. “Ere ya go buddy..” I hovered over a nearby can of…whatever and put it on the roaches back, gave him a pat, and watched him skitter off into the tall grass.

“Did she just give away my beans?...to a roach?” Lucy asked in astonishment.

I yawned stretching my legs. “Eeeyup.” I slowly blinked again. “Is it morning shift already?” my legs shook from stretching them all a little harder before I let them drop limp and properly sat up.

“No. It’s just morning.” Moonstone answered putting the scrap-axe down. “And I see you know your way around radroaches..”

“My beans!!” Lucy protested looking at Moonstone while pointing a wing at the grass.

“Somone had beans?” I asked looking around the camp for the beans.

Lucy was quick to charge over and get her hooves on my shoulder to start shaking me. “You took my beans!”

‘Ahh!” I flailed getting rapidly shaken to a higher level of consciousness… well a level higher than zero anyways. “Alright alright! Let go of meee! Why are you so mad about beans?!”

Moonstone looked upon the situation and sighed. “I’m.. We’re glad you’re safe Sketchy, but the can of beans was breakfast… and Lucy gets cranky when she-.”

“You think the roach is more deserving than me?! After I saved your life!? Do you!?” Lucy’s mare-shaking hooves weren't stopping any time soon.

“She gets cranky.” he grumped watching Lucy shake the life out of me like I wasn’t the first pony she’s ever done this to.

One prying of Lucy off the bean pilferer later Moonstone gave me enough time to pull out my other canned taco. “See? Easily replaceable and enough for all of us! Plus it has beans in it!” I offered, shaking the can a little. The dumb smile I wore with the offer may have been selling my eagerness to try the ‘food with friends’ idea again a bit too hard. “Eh? Ehhhh~?”

“How did you even get your hooves on one of those disgusting things?” Lucy asked far more interested in the can than my offer to share it.

“We have a ton of these down in the stable and- What do you mean disgusting?! These white wonder balls are amazing!” I pointed at the can with my free hoof.

“Yeah, Amazing at making your feathers fall out if you don’t choke to death on the texture of 200-year-old wet bread.”

Thats it! Now I’m personally insulted! I need to teach these surface heathens the wonders of the white ball of goodness! “These gifts-of-the-goddesses upon Equa-firma are the best food ever conceived! It covers all the food groups, never expires, tastes amazing, and each one is big enough to feed at least four ponies.” I squinted while the mini-princesses flew circles around the can, enshrining it in a halo of light from above. “Unless you’re me.. In which case I can eat seven of the things in one go.”

Moonstone backed away from the can a bit. “I umm..I appreciate the offer but I think I’ll politely decline this time.” her smiled warily.

I squinted back! “Hmmmmm…why?”

“Well its just uhh…” He scratched at the back of his mane with a hoof, breaking eye contact. “I’d…rather not have most of my mane fall out before I’m even 30.”

“Wh-wha?...”

“Or have my feathers fall out,” Lucy added with a brief flutter of said wings.

“Pshhh what? These things are perfectly healthy for you. I’ve never heard of a single thing about canned tacos causing hair loss or feather loss!” I tapped the can. “My stable has been eating these things since the war put our ass down there, and none of us got sick.” I huffed hovering out my can opener.

Lucy raised a brow “Have you ever actually read the ingredients list on the back of the can dearie?”

“Well… no… but I eat these things all the time and I’m perfectly fine! See?” I did a little prance in place for emphasis. “Nothing’s broken, nothing’s falling off, not even a bald spot where you two shot me in the ass.” I’m never letting that go! So long as I may live!

“Right, while you appear to be in perfect health now, which is really saying something for a surfacer. Those culinary abominations contain enough flux to kill a radroach… and they have the surface texture of goo.” The pega shivered recoiling from the can.

“That sounds like an exaggeration, can’t be…” I trailed off as a question welled up in the back of my mind. I briefly paused my rant to turn to Moonstone and ask “Hey Moonstone? What’s flux?”

“Oh uhh..” not expecting to be called on he’d been packing up camp. “I haven't researched the stuff but as far as I learned from my reading it's some kind of magic goop. Like uhh.. MSG or lead paint. I believe it was Flim-&-Flam Co that invented the stuff and used it in literally everything they made. It let them steamroll the pre-war consumer goods market, but nobody ever knew what it was. I think the Ministry of Arcane Science had suspicions it was mutagenic?... I haven't read The Lightbringer’s book in a few months. Or Security’s…or that other guy’s book…” he sighed. “Celestia’s solar flank I miss the academy’s library…”

I looked at the label on the can “Huh… ‘Flim and Flam Co’s patent-pending canned tacos… authentic Mecxicolt cuisine for the whole family. Coming soon T.M.’” Feels weird having never read more than just the name after years of eating the things. Then again the chefs always tossed the cans down the recycle chute once empty. The ingredients list was on the back “Beans, salt, wheat flour, lettuce, ever-cheese, liquid smoke, ‘herbs’, ‘spices’, waterT.M, aaand…” I scanned down the list. “Flux ™”

“See? Flux.” Lucy sat turning her head up at the can of gooy goodness. “Sure a little won't kill you, but as I said before, canned tacos are loaded with it.”

“But I’m fiiiiine~”

“Oh, so the need for those telescope lenses you call glasses runs in the family then?” Lucy asked leaning in a little now as I held the can to my chest, tired of floating it.

“No… but my eyes have always been this broken.” I pointed at them. “If the flux were actually an issue I’d have all kinds of other problems by now.” I huffed. “So if you won't eat it I will~”

Moonstone with packs upon his back came over. “Let's just get food In Bubble-Town okay? Should only take an hour or two to get there.” I looked away from Lucy and the entire camp was packed up already. Stuffed Brad was even back in my saddle bag!

“But the food there is so greaseeeyyy” Lucy whined, whipping out the big n' wobbly whining eyes.

Moonstone rolled his own eyes “I’ll give you 50 caps to go shopping.”

Lucy squealed and trotted right past us. “Let’s go already! Let’sgo!letsgo!let’sgooo!!! Don’t keep a lady waiting! Or her barding filthy! MOVE!!” Oh now she’s eager….I wonder why?

I grumbled putting the can back in my saddle bag. “Insult my bucking canned taco.. See if I try sharing it again…grumble grumble…”

"Are you literally saying grumble?"

"N-No!"

Making our way down the highway the distant sounds of civilization grew, to tangled hums of uncountable conversations and moving crowds grew. Off in the grass, a strange plant stuck out and drew me from the path with the instinctual desire to touch it.

“The fuck is this thing!?” I yelled to the team from off the edge of the road. Pointing at this… this affront to the natural order! Two tiny lab-coat-clad princesses circled around the lone spindly half-dead-looking plant. Hanging from its stems were these hoof-sized dull-red lumpy… Lumps! I couldn’t tell if they were fruit or not!

Moonstone came back, looked at it, and looked at me. “That’s a tato Sketchy… ya know… the emo bastard child of tomatoes and potatoes? Did your stable not have them?”

Ah yes, blasphemy with roots! “Wha?! How-? Why?! Tomatoes don’t- Potatoes can’t just-... It’s so… WRONG!!” I stammered watching the most important thing I remembered from surface class crumble before my eyes! My ‘A-’ report losing all its scientific value! Why cruel world?! WHY?!

“Oh calm down, it’s just a crop. Ponies grow these things everywhere, try one.” he suggested plucking the VILE abomination of a lump from the stem and handing it to me.

I hovered it in the air, inspecting the forbidden hybrid before my eyes. The tiny princesses watched on in horror as I took a suspiciously crunchy bite out of the tato revealing its equally dull-red innards. Crunch… crunch… crunch…

“Well?”

I swallowed. “It tastes like a stepped-on ketchup packet..” I took another bite, contemplating the fruit thing like fine bathtub wine. “And something else, but I can't put my hoof on it.” I kept eating.

“Depression?”

“That’s it!” I nodded… and kept eating. “I mean, it isn't great…” I picked and bit into another tato. “But it's not completely awful either…”

“It's a lot healthier than ketchup packets and depression too~” he added nudging me along. Lucy had already pranced far ahead us towards the walls of the town ahead.

I believe this is what Miss Appleboom called a ‘strip mall’, but its ‘parking lot’ was walled off by a shifty amalgam of sheet metal, tires, and husked-out wagons. Two gates stood at the far ends of the rectangular complex letting out onto Route 10. The main building consisted of a string of seven randomly sized buildings mushed side-to-side and three of them looked like they were smashed with a comically large hammer. From this hill, I could see over the walls and note every little space within was packed with market stalls, junk piles, and ponies. The most ponies I’d seen since leaving 83, and in the middle of it all towered a neon sign. A peeling picture of a cream-colored earth mare leaning on the neon-blue words ‘Bubble Town! Laundry and Dry Cleaning. Most of the letters had died, but the ‘Bubble Town’ portion was deliberately maintained above the rest. Neon blue bubbles flicker in and out above the words animating their movement.

At each of the gates stood what I guessed passed for security around here. Ponies wearing tattered business suits and weird hats I think are called fedoras. Each unicorn and earther was armed with battle saddles and bandoliers filled with more ‘proper’ guns than the ponies going in and out the gates. Dapper…yet deadly!

Fighting my sudden urge to stand there and get lost in a dream bubble of myself dressed like that, I steeled myself for the most dangerous encounter of all. Social interaction! I mean it’s not like everpony is going to be staring at me or anything. Looks like everypony down there is only here for the laundromat or to sell… garbage? At least it looks like garbage.

“Alright Sketchy, being as you’ve never been in a town before let me give you the basics before you get robbed or kidnapped.” Moonstone started, gesturing for me to follow.

“Well that’s encouraging…” It wasn’t.. But I followed anyway.

“Motivational I know~” he chuckled. “But that’s the wasteland norm. It's a real pony-eat-pony world out here.. minus a few hooffulls of good ones.”

“Yourself included?” I tilted my head following behind. He has been the most helpful pony thus far.

“Daww, well now you’re going to make the tour guide blush. Guess I’ll have to keep you extra safe.” goddesses his smile sparkled. “Now it might seem overwhelming at first but think of it like this, I already did this whole song and dance with Lucy and look how she turned out.”

“Don’t you literally complain that she pisses everypony off she can without even trying?” I squinted at the back of his head while further up the road Lucy pranced right in through the front gate. The guards initially leered at the passing purple rear but upon seeing the approaching Moonstone, rolled their eyes and went back to standing guard…menacingly.

“Well err… yes, I do… and she does. But I’d like to consider it a success that she hasn't been shanked in an alley or sold as a slave to some raiders.” He passed the gate guards with a glare, they huffed, but nothing else happened as I kept close behind.

“Waaaait… slavery’s back?!” the place felt a lot more crowded in person. Numerous ponies shuffled around, clad in tattered cloths if any, and hawking various wares. Only a few of the makeshift market stalls had any ‘theme’ going on with their offerings. Bottled water, something called Aqua-Cura, food stands, clothes, and the rest just seemed to be selling assorted junk.

“Sure is. Has been for a while as far as I can tell. Ponies preying on ponies, ponies selling ponies, and ponies buying ponies to do jobs nopony else wants to do.”

“That sounds awful! Why would anypony allow that to happen?!”

“Well they try not to.” he answered looking back to me on occasion as we navigated the crowds. “Nopony- well I say nopony.. ‘Very few’ ponies actually want to be slaves. The rest of us would rather flee for our lives or go down guns blazing than become merchandise. In short, Slavers are basically raiders sane enough to participate in the wasteland economy and will ‘try’ not to kill you. In shorter, avoid them.”

“Yeah, that's a bit self-explanatory. Where are we going again? Aren't we gonna wash my suit?”

“We're headed to the front desk, which brings me to my next point. Who runs this place?” he asked approaching the front of the laundromat itself, the largest of the strip mall’s bundle of buildings. All the front windows probably got blown out by the bombs, but in the meantime, sompony welded metal grids over the holes. “Notice all the ponies wearing suits?”

“Hard not to, they’re the cleanest ponies here.” I answered. Several of those suited ponies patrolled the market too, and just like the gates, the front door of the laundromat had a pair too. A cigar-puffing turquoise earth buck and a yellow unicorn fiddling with the drum magazine of her gun nodded us in.

“Good, But did you notice the street signs scattered around?” Now that he mentions it, I looked around and saw said street signs, some on poles ripped out of the pavement, others strung together with wires. All of them had their original names painted over with the bold white ‘Club Street’ and kept in places everypony could see..

“I’m going to guess, and I might be making some wild mind-shattering assumptions here… the group running the place called Club-Street?”

“Bingo!... Your stable still plays bingo right?”

“Yes..” I should tell him no just to mess with him.

“Club Street is just one of many factions that vie for territory here on the surface. Bubble town is just their easternmost bra-”

“Neeext!” A rougher crony voice interrupted from the desk up ahead. The laundromat’s interior was lined with rusty half-scrapped versions of the washers and dryers we had back in the stable. The fake floor tiles were peeling up, most of the ceiling panels were gone, and whatever free space remained was filled with trash bags of clothes. At the front of what used to be a sitting area was a middle-aged dull yellow uni-mare with a frayed pink mane taking a drag from her crumpled cigarette. I didn’t think it was possible but she had a literal ashtray for a cutiemark. “Oh~ back already? Step in a mud puddle or somethin’ sugar?” Mmm yes.. Graveley and feminine, I’ll have three packs a day and a divorce please!

Moonstone strode right up to her still rocking that calm smile. His tone changed to something oddly coy and.. flirty? “Good to be back Darrla, no I’m just here for the usual. More importantly~ I see somepony has a date tonight~” he smirked leaning in, cooly resting an elbow on the counter and resting his cheek in a hoof. “Is that pink-131 I see on those hooves? You little slut, Tell me everything! Hung’er than a hat rack or just loaded?”

Celestia’s titanic tits, what am I witnessing right now?! Who is this flirtatious stallion and where is the kind and helpful Moonstone?!

“Oh, it’s ‘bout fucking time somepony noticed. Tonight’s cheesecake runs one of them aqua-cura caravans. Nervous type, might not live in the hills with the aristocrats but says he’s got a ranch near R-7.” The mare rolled her eyes and coughed before spitting a glob ‘gracefully’ into an impressively distant spittoon. “The effort I put in for these guys and they don’t even notice I did my hooves, yeesh~”

Moonstone was astonishingly unphased! “Tell me about it, especially when they don't put half the effort in you do, just awful.”

“He better, or my hoof Is going so far up his ass it’ll turn this hoof polish into lipstick.” she took another drag and puffed a small circle in my general direction. “Speakin’ ah noticing things. Ya’ pick up another stray pretty boy? Finally had enough of the purple turkey bitch?”

“Hi!” I waved weakly from behind Moonstone, smiling my patent pending winning smile. I’m not sweating nervously, you’re sweating nervously! I’m being talked about! Scream internally!!

Moonstone scratched the back of his mane wincing. “Yeaaaahh well.. You know me. She was all alone, in danger, and helpless.” Is it just me or did the empathy crank up to eleven? “I couldn’t just leave her like that. Plus she's a stable pony, How could I not show her how the surface works?”

“Honey, yer bleedin’ heart is gonna get you killed picking up all these charity cases.” Good goddesses… a modicum of concern in her voice! And… and was that the long-forgotten crack of a doting smile?! Somepony dig up a printing press, Equestria needs to know!! “Should start charging em’ for the tour, Or at least get some flank out of it sugar.” Nevermind…

“Hey!” I protested! Not that I’d umm.. be opposed if he err…offered. Or anypony did…But my dignity was being indirectly attacked and I’m not that pathetic yet! “He’s…better than that!” Flawless execution brain!

“Don’t act like you ain’t been starin’ at his ass girly. Everypony gawks at that work of Academy art.” Darrla snarled dismissively before pulling a complete 180 and putting on a small smile for Moonstone. She slid him a little piece of paper and pressed a nearby button. “You’re number 17 in line on the frequent customer's list dear, should get called in about an hour.”

Moonstone took it “Thanks Darrla~ Hope you knock him dead tonight, heh.. Figuratively.” he chuckled coyly backing away and nudging me along. “Let's go Sketchy, plenty of time for me to show you the rest of the town.”

“Better listen to em’ stable-filly. It’s for yer own good.” Darrla flicked away the spent cig and pulled out another, drawing her attention back to the hoof-polish and pre-war magazines on her desk.

Back outside amongst the many patrons of this fine town, Moonstone was already walking towards the next thing on our to-do list. Sell the oversized pipe rifle!

“Well, she was…uhh..” I looked at the broken pavement trying to think of something nice to say.

“A polite and well-meaning woman that hasn't let thirty years of retail work wear down her dating life or competitive smoking career?” Moonstone filled in.

“Yeah, that!” I pointed. How does he put positive spins on these things?!

“Lesson number two-”

“I think we're on three?”

“Lesson three!” He continued without breaking stride or confidence as we strolled the market. “Showing interest in the small details of anypony you’re dealing with, plus a dash of empathy, goes a long way toward positive outcomes.”

“Hey, Dad taught me that one!” I perked following along. “Big book of social manipulation chapter seven! Pretend to give a shit about what other ponies have going on and they become more receptive to what you want.”

Moonstone looked back over his shoulder. “Err.. no offense Sketchy.. But your daddy sounds like a psychopath.”

“Pshhhh pleaaaase~” I flipped my mane getting the bangs out of my eyes. “My Dad’s not a psychopath, he’s a pastor!”

Moonstone turned back forward. “Oh, well that explains everything then.” He hummed softly and kept walking just a bit faster.

I paused. “Explains what? Moonstone! Hey! What does it explain?!” I jogged trying to keep up with him. “Don’t you pull a ‘leave her guessing’ on me! That’s chapter 9!”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The longer we stayed the more Bubble Town reminded me of 83. A crap-ton of ponies milling about doing their various tasks, chores, or whatever the hell that one unicorn was doing with that rubber chicken. The only real differences were the general ambiance.. and the smell… and the sky. Okay, it was pretty different than the atrium but hey! Mystery meat on a stick!

I sat there between two stalls out of the traffic, looking at the steaming ‘ka-boob’ Moonstone bought me to try while he was shopping. At least I assume it's called a ‘Ka-boob’ given that's what the sign above the rusty grill said. “If he thinks he can distract me with food like a five-year-old he’s got another thing-” I stared at the mystery meat on a stick. I’ve never had meat before.. It looks weird. Impaled on the stick was an assortment of various brown chunks, white clumps, and red-ish bits. It dripped with the only thing I could recognize ‘grease’. At least it smells good. And everypony else was eating ka-boobs, aaand Moonstone did say it was safe to eat…ish. Said not to ask where it came from, but could guarantee it wasn’t pony. Nice! I’m not that kind of mare-eater after all! I’m the desperate fun kind~

I mean seriously It's one rifle, did he really have to bribe me with food to stay put while he sold ONE thing? I’m not five! It’s not like I’m gonna wander off or stick random things in my mouth. “Mmmmfff… dish ush goohd..” I mumbled duly as the new chewy flavors dissolved into my mouth, victim to my oral fixation. Luna bucking damn it, the meat found its way into my mouth while I was thinking. Innuendos aside… “Ish weally goohd…shoowe~” Stop proving him right brain!

The tiny princesses and I sat on the pavement, each eating identical ka-boobs just like any other spaced-out mare would. Maybe this whole surface thing wasn't so bad. This meat stuff was certainly making the trip worth it. So chewy, so…

My ears twitched! Somepony yelled at the eastern gate, but I couldn't make out the words. With the rag-bound locals shuffling away from the source I peered through the thinning crowd. By said gate four of the suited ponies squared off with two in armored brown trench coats, red-visored gas-mask/helmet combos, and some meaner looking battle-saddles than the local gangers. Who on Equis are those guys?

Didn’t Moonstone say something about looking for symbols or something to see who belongs to what groups out here? If I squint, adjust my glasses, lean in a little…and take another bite, I can guess their gang’s theme is brown trenchcoats, and what looks like a two-headed Ursa-major?

Thank the goddesses eavesdropping is super useful for explaining world lore to me! I can’t hear the conversation by the gate, but the market ponies passing by were much easier.

“Seriously, again?” said one vagabond.

“Can’t the NCR just leave us alone?” from a mare pushing a rusty shopping cart.

“They seriously need to learn we ain’t leaving and Applewood ain't bowin'.” Griped a pink guard to his buddy.

“Goddess damned turf-creepin’ never ends. Boss ul’ here ‘ah this.” growled another.

I slowly hovered out a juice box Moonstone also bought me and got to passively sipping while I drew my book out too. Might as well be writing this stuff down right? So some gang called the NCR is having territory issues with Club-Street. I did my best to include a doodle of what the two sides looked. I’d refine them later, but for now, they’d remain glorious stick figures in trench coats and suits.

At some point, I’d subconsciously gone to take another bite of the Ka-boob and was met with a mildly burnt stick. “But…but!” I gazed upon the now meatless stick in abject disappointment. “Luna’s horn in my ass, why do all the good things in life happen while I’m distracted?!” I huffed and yeeted the stick over the town walls behind me. “Nyehh!”

“My eye!!” Yelled somepony from the outside the town wall. I winced and slowly turned away from the wall whistling innocently.

“Hey… hey kid?”

“Huh?” I looked up from the book closing it. Before me was a grey earth-buck in a tattered brown longcoat. Darker than me but a bit taller and with bags under his eyes.

“Yeah, you kid. The one whistling all suspicious-like.” He glanced around for a second before looking back to me and nudging one of the coat flaps open revealing an array of pockets and holsters lined with syringes, inhalers, bottles, and…spoons. “Ya like chems?” Goddesses he even sounds like a chem dealer!

I blinked in disbelief while I slid my time back into its bag. “Are you bucking serious right now?”

“What do ya think kid? Course I am! Now I know what you're thinkin’. ‘This guy looks like a raging stereotype.’ Right?”

“Bet your ass you look like a raging stereotype!” I squinted and the tiny princesses off in the corner of my vision nodded in agreement.

“Well, ya see that's just it. That’s my whole schtick. Your run-of-the-mill chem dealer hangs out in dark alleys preying on innocent mares like you for a quick cap. That's where I’m different you see~”

“Uhh huh…” I still squinted harder upon this chem-slinging stallion.

“Unlike the other guys, you can trust me. Because I’m willing to be blatantly honest about what I do and how I do it. I skip the whole suspicion stage where you think I’m trying to jip you.”

“Okay, makes sense. Something something Applejack… Something, Honesty is the best policy and all that.” I had to give him that… Applejack would approve?...maybe?

“Exactly~” He made this sleazy leer of a smile. “Now then, A pretty little mare like yourself must be bored to death in a place like this. What's your poison?” Ahh hell, he called me pretty. “I got dash, stampede, rage, spiked healing potions, med-x..” He listed off pointing a hoof at various places in his open trenchcoat. “Oh- and my buddy over in Applewood got me a crapton of these grape-flavored Mint-als. Kids love ‘em, and you look like the kind of mare with a sweet tooth eh?” That sleaze smile grew like he was waving a lollypop infront of a foal.

That little snippet at the end hit me. “Wai- wai- wait! Kids?! You sell Chems to kids?!”

He pulled back a bit probably realizing he struck a bad note on his sales pitch. “I mean.. Well sure. I am an equal opportunity vendor and all that. If they ask, I sell, simple as that. It's not like I’m some sort of trenchcoat-wearing creep sneaking up on foals in a rusted-out playground.” Says the trenchcoat-wearing creep…

I gestured firmly at the buck's general visage, shaking both my forehooves. A firm “Hmmmm!!” in my throat to get my point across.

He looked down at himself for a moment. “Okay fair, But I'm a respectable trenchcoat-wearing chem dealer! I’m raising property values ‘round here.” he loosely waved to the ruined strip-mall of a town. So can I get you anything or nah?”

A few thoughts bounced around inside my ‘ka-boob’-deprived skull. Thought number one was that this raging stereotype in front of me was selling chems to any foal that walked up?! The second thought was the ever-distant echos of the ‘Just-Say-Neigh’ movie everypony in class was forced to watch. Swear I’d never been more driven to slam reactor coolant and chug maint-shine than after that movie. And the third thought….”

It crept forth from the deep, dark, and rent-free corners of my erudite unicorn mind, that whimsical buck from my dreams. “Do all the drugs Sketchy! It’ll be fun…. Fun…. fun…FUN! You’re only hot and young once! Unless you have genie.. or plot armor.. fun.. fun.. Ehehehehe!”

Hey wait a second, I don't remember that last part of the echo being in my dream. Tiny Luna glared up at me, but I shook my head to focus on what mattered most. This guy sells chems to kids! Plus I’m broke so I couldn’t even buy drugs if I wanted to…which I don’t! I squinted back at the tiny Luna. She squinted harder back before poofing into a little black cloud.

Now that she’s gone… I had an idea. Just-Say-Neigh did make a few good points about dealers… “Well nail me on a Roaman cross and call me a degenerate! Do I really look like such an easy score?”

“I err…” He backpedaled.

“Cause I totally am!” I beamed “But I’m not a total sucker though. No dealer that claims to have that big of a selection actually keeps it all on him. In fact, Id put a copious amount of caps down that most of what you got in your pockets is fake as shit. You got a handler somewhere nearby with your actual supply, they can probably see us talking right now correct?”

“Well..” he coughed into a hoof quickly comprising himself. “Display items are just that, the display items, not that I was uhh… gonna sell you those.” captain shifty eyes here repeatedly glanced away towards the more collapsed parts of the strip mall. Bingo~ Thank you crappy pre-war education films.

“Oooobviously~” I lightly waved a hoof, pshaw! “Your upfront business model would go against that! Why don’t you bring her on out to talk? I wanna see how many of those mint-als you got. I’m on the road a lot these days so I like to buy in bulk when I can.”

I could see it, he was thinking as fast as his slick dealer mind could go trying to process this abnormality. Was I conning him? Was I really that big of a score just sitting on the curb? Was I a high-functioning mint-al addict who needed her fix in bulk? He didn’t know. “That isn't how this normally works…”

“Oh, I perfectly understand. If everypony saw who your holder was they’d get mugged for the stash. Why don’t we go over there behind the strip mall?” I pointed a hoof where he'd been glancing repeatedly. “That way only I’d see them and since I’ll be leaving town soon your secret will be safe with me~” I smiled, I not only smiled but I tried to work that soft Moonstone smile. It made my face hurt a little but it seemed to be working.

He glanced again. “Well, I think we can do that. You look harmless enough. I mean what kind of dealer would I be if I wasn't accommodating to my customer's needs?”

“Exaaaactly~” I stood from the curb. I looked left and tiny Luna was on my shoulder in a little devil costume. She had a devious smirk that curled with mischief at the ends. On my other shoulder was her sister…Also in a devil costume making tiny silent evil giggles leering at the stallion. “C'mon let's go say hi~” I walked past the buck before the same curling smirk of devilry grew on my face too. Sell to kids will he? We’ll see about that~

Nopony stopped or followed us behind the Bubble-Town strip mall through one of the long collapsed stores and out the barely standing backdoor. Nopony else was even back here aside from a few smoldering burn barrels and a unicorn I saw going into a sheet-metal outhouse with a crescent on the door. Now that I think about it, feels weird the crescent moon is used as the symbol for outhouses and one of the goddesses? There has to be a story behind why that- Ahh! Getting distracted! Focus brain!

Once back there the dealer called out to the more collapsed half of the stip-mall rubble “Oi Pilly pop~ Come on out, we got a bulk order and she wants to see we actually have it.”

I looked and we were soon joined by a grumpy-looking yellow mare in leathers like the stone brothers had… that being patched together and vaguely armor-shaped. She had a sack with her that clanked and jangled as she walked with it slung over her shoulder with a forehoof. “How many times do I have to tell you that’s a dumb cover name.” she groaned glaring at him and then at me. “This that mare you spotted between the stalls staring off into space?”

“H-Hi” I waved weakly and smiled nervously.

“Yeah, Candy that’s her.” He answered. So her name is Candy…Candy-Pop? Certainly matched her cutiemark of exploding rainbow-colored mints. “She wants to buy all our grape mint-als before leaving town. But our discerning little buyer here is smarter than the average cookie and wants to see the merchandise before she hands over her caps~” he smiled giving me head-pats as he dolled out the compliments. Little did he know I could see his hoof bleeding from patting me right on the imaginary horns my plan awarded me.

Candy-pop looked me up and down. “Discerning customer huh? Well, she does look harmless… and suspiciously clean too. She a merchant brat? or did you even check if she had the caps for this kind of purchase?” she raised a brow to the dealer and set the sack down.

Crap! They have the goods but I’m broker than Tulip-Patch’s back on prom night! How do I get out of proving I can actually afford it? Wait…she said merchant’s daughter, right? Aha! I jumped in before the dealer could answer. “Oh I can totally afford it, daddy runs one of those aqua cura caravan thingies and he gives me an allowance to keep me busy while we’re in town.” I smiled letting the horseapples fly.

Candy looked skeptical but here came the dealer to save the day. “Ohh! Your dad is the one who runs the caravan that just came from Applewood?”

“Sure is.” I beamed letting my tail swish a little as I cranked up the daughter-like cuteness I was simply born to manifest! “He’s got a date with Darrla tonight so… ya know. I wanna hit the mint-als as hard as I can tonight. Figure I’ll forget the mental image of those two going at it alongside the cure to world hunger when I come down. If not…well at least I got buzzed out of my mind.” Holy horse apples even I believe me! Just the mental image of that woman under any kind of buck just…. I shiver.

“Alright alright, I’ll never be able to unsee that now.” The dealer facehooved trying to shake away the same mental image that tormented me. Yes…suffer! That's what you get for dealing chems to kids! “Just show her the stuff so we can get our caps and buy some goddess-damned brain bleach.”

“Ughh fine.” Cindy huffed and opened the bag. Within was a plethora of bottles, tins, syringes, and more. She pulled out one of the faded tins and tossed it over to me. “We’ve got about eighteen tins of the grape mint-als and a few of the normal ones.”

I caught the tin in my TK and looked the thing over. A smiling cartoonish Zebra on the lid and clusters of grapes under the name ‘Mint-Als Grape!’. The rest of the tin was also a light purple instead of yellow like the normal ones I saw in the 83 doctor's office. “Cool,” I commented shaking the tin a little to hear it rattle. I popped the lid to see a couple dozen purple candy-looking pills.

“Okay, you've seen the goods, now the caps. Were very busy ponies.” Candy glared expectantly.

Holy bucking horseapples I didn’t expect this to work this far! Eheheheeh! “Yeah sure, I just gotta get the sack out of my bag.” I smiled and used my TK to open one of my saddle bags while I looked down at my pipbuck fiddling with the nobs like I was sorting through it. “Now what tab was it under…” In reality, I was griping my magic flintlock and cranking it to about full. “Ah, there it is!” aaaaaand… I pulled out muh’ gun!! Sparking, glowing red, and ready to blow a hole in somepony… or more likely whatever’s behind them. “Leave the bag and get your selling to kids havin’ ass out of here!”

“Yo! What the fuck Crag!” Candy yelled at the dealer while pointing a hoof at me. I guess his name is Crag or something. “This is why we don't do in-person shit!”

Crag backstepped mainly focused on the pistol pointed right at him. “You lieing little bitch! This is not how this was supposed to go down!”

“Uh-huh, yeah, well nothing really goes according to plan when you get kids involved you sick freak! I mean for the love of the goddesses at least let them grow up first! Must be 18 ‘n over to walk on sunshine! Something!” I retorted shaking the gun at him a little.

Candy only rolled her eyes and pulled out a gun the same size as mine, but made of pipes and scrap wood. “Are we seriously going to do this? Really? You’re alone and we have you outnumbered two to one. You must really need those mint-als to not notice that.”

“Oh, I know. But if I'm crazy enough to still try it goes without saying I’m clearly nuts enough to make sure at least one of you dies!” I growled back. I needed to play this just right. I wasn't going to kill them…I was going to ruin them. “So which one of you is it gonna be huh? Who am I turning to four legs rolling in the wind? Cause it’ll be neither if you just leave the bag.”

“We’re not giving you our whole supply dumbass. How bout you drop that cracked-out pistol and your bags and we don't kill you instead?” Candy counter offered around the trigger-bit in her teeth. Weird… she can talk a whole lot clearer than Moonstone can. Focus brain!

And now.. the coup-de-grace. “Here’s an even better offer. How bout you give me back what’s mine?”

Crag barely got out a confused “Wait wha-?” before I turned the flintlock in the air and fired.

PWOOOOOM!!

The thunderous beam cracked into the sky briefly bathing the area in red light before vanishing.

“Is your aim just that bad or are you really that stupid?” Candy asked stepping a bit closer with the pipe pistol ready.

“No, I’m not stupid.” It was all coming together. I dropped the flintlock and took a second to ruffle my mane. Maintaining that smirk I rose and hoof and hesitated. I’d be able to buy a healing potion after this so with that promise to myself in mind…I bucked myself clean across the muzzle as hard as I could. My glasses skewed but I could still see the absolute confusion on their faces.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck.. Now she's beating herself up. That's our job!” Candy even looked a bit confused now.

“Maybe she is nuts Candy… you know how mint-al addicts can get.” Crag suggested.

“Nah, I’m just being mugged~” I finally let that curling smirk out of its cage to see the light of day. I plopped down and hovered off my glasses giving the right lens a teeny-tiny tap on the pavement to make a spiderweb crack. Once back on my face, I could see the mounting horror on the two’s faces in realization. Three….two… one…

From around the sides of the strip mall and back doors of the still-standing sections came ponies in suits… with guns. Cause what pony couldn’t hear that shot? All of Dad’s lessons about social interaction were finally coming to a head. Chapter Eight: How to morally play the victim card.

Then I heard it. “No fighting in the market!” roared one of the galloping stallions, guns at the ready. My cue!

I pointed a shakey hoof at the dealers with sack. “They’re mugging meeehehehhee!” I cried out as we were rapidly surrounded. “They’re trying to steal the chems I brought from my stable to sehehehell! They said they kept their caps back here and pulled a gun on meehehehe!!”

I had everything going for me here. I was outnumbered, I was smaller, meek-looking, my mane messed, and my muzzle hurt like they’d hit me. The perfect storm to play the victim card.

Despite their desperate looking for one the two dealers found all three potential escape routes cut off as the guards closed in.

“This is horseshit! She was buying from us!” Protested Candy.

“Yeah!” Chimed Crag. “We're just trying to run a business here!”

I was really going to have to sell this to the guards. At this point, it was the word of these kiddie druggers versus mine. Looking like the victim here puts the hoofball in my court but the guards don't know enough yet to make a hasty conclusion in my favor. I need to tip the scales somehow… that’s it! If it’s enough to piss me off it might be enough to piss the gangers off too!

“A-After they took my chems they said ‘This is a-alot of grape mint-als. Kids love these things, we should sell em’ to the local b-brats.” Go lip quiver go! You too wobbly eyes!

“They were gonna what?!” Yelled one guard.

“You were going to sling chems to my daughters?!” growled a suited mare.

Candy’s eyes went wide. “What?! No!” backing away from the guards till her rear bumped into another set of suited pones coming out of the rubble path we came through.

“Well technically if they ask…” Started Crag.

“Shut the fuck up Crag!” Candy-pop hissed between gritted teeth like he just sold them out on accident… which he did.

That was the nail in the coffin. They were immediately jumped by the guards while I was left in the background untouched. Wiping my nose and holding my muzzle where I hit it… fuck you past me!… I got up and went over to the bag of chems. Who knew a sack of drugs could be so heavy? My legs wobbled as I struggled to lift them all. Score!

The two dealers were dragged off after being subject to a stomp storm from the local ‘law’ enforcement. Two of the guards hung around, One lit up a cigar and the other approached me. “I take it your merchandise is accounted for?”

“Y-yeah..” I answered meekly as I struggled to reach a hoof for the leftover tin of mint-als on the ground.

He placed a hoof on it before I could and slowly slid it toward himself. “Well that’s good, very good.” he nodded casually picking up the tin with his teeth and stashing it in his suit pocket. “Club Street is always happy to offer its protection to the local merchants.”

“S-Sure…” I wasn't going to argue with him taking one…this sack is heavy and I know what a protection racket sounds like. There was way too much emphasis on that ‘protection’ bit for it not to be one. The tiny princesses stood atop the sack on my back, both now in matching mobster outfits giggling silently. “You erm…wouldn’t happen to know somepony I could sell all these to.” I peered past him to the dealers getting dragged away. “Without getting accosted?”

He raised a hoof out and with a small smirk made a small ‘gimmie’ gesture expectantly. With a little effort, I TKd out another tin from the sack which he promptly pocketed. I'd be upset about getting extorted if I wasn’t literally paying out of somepony else’s pockets. “Club Street is also happy to take any and all chems, liquor, smokes, and other such substances one is willing to part with. Just take them all to Darrla and she’ll give you the standard exchange rate we give our suppliers.”

“Sounds.. great!” I heaved starting to take some very strained steps forward on wobbly legs. I just needed to make it back out front and around the corner to the laundromat. “Thanks for…saving me and…all!” I panted taking one step at a time.

—---------------------------------

I ended up selling most of it for the lump sum of caps. Darrla just looked at me and I smiled sheepishly in turn as she slid the pile of caps across the desk.

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna question how you got all this, but I’d bet my good lung there’s no way it was legitly.” she puffed a circle of acrid smoke which I struggled not to cough on too hard. “Good job~” she smiled and tapped some ashes off the cig. “Should go fetch pretty boy, your number’s gettin’ called any minute now. And next time, do keep my dating life out of your bullshit. I wouldn’t want to worry about your health dear.” Said a mare taking a long enough drag to kill the rest of the cig before breaking into a coughing fit. Somehow the cough also sounded like giggling… in her own tar-lungy way. Like a proud grandma who’s been smoking for 80+ years! All sticky, heartwarming, and gross.

I walked in with a sack of chems, and I walked out with a smaller bag of caps and a death threat! Progress! I’d have to count it all later when I had-. I facehoofed… I have a goddess-damned pipbuck. I TK’d the sack into my saddle bag and looked down at my pipbuck. “Well six hundred is certainly more than the number of meal tickets I’ve ever owned…” I mumbled to myself getting the feeling the exchange rate must be ass around here if Club-Street will buy it all but ponies are still selling elsewhere.

“I can’t leave you alone can I?” came a familiar voice from next to me. Oh hey, It’s Moonstone! What do ya know, the fetch quest did itself! “Five…maybe ten minutes to sell that rifle and I come back to find you’re not only missing but coming out of the laundromat with a sack full of caps looking beat up. What happened?!” Aww, he sounds concerned about me. Nopony but Dad, Miss Appleboom, and PJ have ever done that before… which is super sad now that I think about it.

“Oh, uhh,, erm… “ I scratched my mane. “I’m fine! Tooootaly fine, finest mare on the surface… yes sirree, perfectly…fine.” I grinned sheepishly to magnify my innocence. The big stallion just stared down at me like he caught me in his cookie jar. The longer he looked at me the more I squirmed. The more I saw those eyes the more it RENDED MY SOUL!! AHH!!!

‘Sketch-”

“Okay, I mugged some drug dealers! I admit it!” I blurted throwing my hooves up in the air in guilt. “While you were gone a stereotype on legs came up and offered me drugs! I’d already run out of food and juice to distract me so we started talking, and he had this whole honesty thing going on, and we backed and forthed for a while.” I took a deep inhale as my body demanded air to keep spilling my guts. “This guy mentions he was selling chems to kids, so I lured him into a back alley where his stash keeper was, told them I was a merchant daughter or whatever, they bought it, I pulled my gun on them, they laughed, so I beat myself up and told the guards they did it and that they were robbing me and-” INHALE!! “I took their entire stash and sold it to Club-street at what I can only assume was a terrible exchange rate, but I got six hundred caps, don't hurt mee!” I flopped on the pavement, hooves on my head in defeat having only been able to keep the truth of my actions down for a few minutes at best.

Moonstone, loomed above me… least I think he was looming given how much taller he was. Maybe it’s just my perspective? He blinked. “You did what now?...”

As if on Cue! Lucy comes trotting over with several bags on her back and a new set of saddlebags on her flanks. “You won't believe what new stuff merchants acquired in the week we were gone from-...Moonstone? Why is our dear little stable pony groveling in the dirt? You can’t blame me this time.”

I went to inhale and begin the whole explanation again only to catch a big white hoof over my mouth cramming all the guilt back down my throat. “Ah ah ah~ Enough of that now. The rest of Equestria needs air too.”

I whined behind his hoof, ears flat on my head.

He made a little cough. “Sketchy here was feeling guilty about being such a busy bee while nopony was looking. And some nefarious ponies may have gotten hurt in the process of her acquiring her latest windfall.”

“To put it lightly.. How busy of a bee was she?” Lucy looked down at me too with a curiosity in her eyes, and a fraction of the concern Moonstone had in his own.

My eyes on the other hand were doing the full wobble on the verge of tears routine and my nose was starting to run. Why does it feel like I'm in trouble?! Why is tiny Celestia dressed like a teacher tapping a ruler in her hoof!? Once Moonstone took his hoof off my muzzle I spilled the abridged version. “I..may have framed some drug dealers that were selling chems to kids.”

“Uh huh…” Lucy nodded along.

“And took their stash…”

“I don’t see said stash…”

“Aaand immediately sold it all for 600 caps-”

“SIX HUNDRED CAPS?!” Lucy burst only to catch the same hoof that covered my mouth. “Mff! Hrff mff grrrf mah hrfff!?”

Now Moonstone leaned towards her. “Lucy, What did I tell you about proclaiming to the world that you have more than two bits to rub together?”

Lucy glared at him before swatting the big hoof away. “Something about us getting accosted by brigands and laggards in the street. Do you even wash that hoof?!” she was already wiping her mouth off on a little handkerchief she pulled out of her new bags with a wing. “Eughh..”

“Is… six hundred a lot?” I asked raising my hoof while tiny teacher Celestia squinted at me, striking fear into the heart of marekind.

“Depends who you ask.” Sighed Moonstone. “Some ponies go their entire lives never having more than a few, and others…others got so many they actually use NCR banks to store it all.”

I kept my questioning hoof in the air. “What’s a bank?”

“A bank..” Lucy started still fervently trying to clean herself with said handkerchief “Is a respectable institution that holds onto one’s currency and keeps it safe in exchange for permission to use and invest it elsewhere.” Once done she looked at her new handkerchief in disgust. “Guess this is going in the laundry too..”

“And ponies trust banks?” I asked.

“No.” the two answered in unison.

“Given the only banks down here are either run by the NCR or old world aristiponies, never. One might take your caps when they get desperate, and the other might just take them 'cause they think they're better than you.” Moonstone elaborated.

“Which one is which?”

“It’s cute you think there’s a difference.” He chuckled a bit and gave me a pat… damn him and his mare disarming pats!

“Barbarian currency or no not even Father trusted enclave banks. He only used them when he had to, and those were backed by an actual functional government. Down here on the surface, I'd have better odds handing my caps to a raider and saying ‘Don't rob me please’." She huffed holding the handkerchief as far from herself as possible with a wing.

“Safest place for you to keep all your caps is either on your person, a pre-war safe, or a private room in Tenpony Tower.” Moonstone listed

“We really should visit Tenpony sometime after we reach the refugee camp. I heard it's one of the few places left with some class outside of Hoofington.” Lucy pondered rubbing her chin with the pinion feathers of her free wing. “Ballroom dancing, high fashion, the arts, culture, a cheese store… and Celestia’s wings the Wine~” of all the things she said, wine seemed to be the one that got her to smile the most.

“Guys…” I whined, my hoof starting to shake in the air. “My hoof is getting REALLY tired from all the questions you’re causing.”

There was a crackle and a buzz from the ancient speakers hooked up above the door to the laundromat proper. “Number 17! Number seven- oh fuck it.. Moonstone, purple bitch, and Sketchy! You’re up. CLICK”

“Oh hey were up!” I hopped up from the ground and started trotting right back inside.

“What did that smokestack call me?!” growled Lucy but it was too late. I was already inside.

Darrla offhoofedly tossed a key just right that landed right around my horn. “Door in the back noobie, try not to get lost or break anything.” Earth ponies and their perfect aim… cheating is what it is!

“Thanks, Darrla!” Moonstone and I said in passing and just kept walking on by. Lucy on the other hoof had a brief glaring and growling match before Moonstone went back to drag Lucy along.

Turns out there was a skinny backroom to this place guarded by one of the Club-street members who nodded us in. Ten feet wide and fifteen long wasn't much room for much more than the town’s main attraction. A rusty washer-dryer combo that looked like it had been disassembled and reassembled a dozen times with extra parts left over. Tubes went in and out of missing panels, some dials were gone, and there was a glowing jar ratchet-strapped to the side. “The buck is this?” I asked looking at Moonstone and pointing at the mechanical abomination.

“That is one of the last working washing machines this side of the wasteland. I think the story was that some poor colt used to work here before the war and spent his off time building this thing.” he gestured at the machine that Lucy was already opening and tossing her clothes into. “Only reason it works is cause he somehow got his hooves on some industrial-grade water recycling, repair, and soap talismans. The kind normally reserved for Stables.”

“So it's self-sufficient? No outside water? Just plug it in and go?”

“Pretty much.”

“This buck could have been rich!” I threw my hooves in the air. Sure it would have been expensive but no waste water! No buying soap! Water consumption across Equestria would have plummeted!...probably.

Once all the clothes were tossed in alongside my glowing stable suit I set the dial to ‘permanent press’ and extra rinse like I’ve done with all my laundry since the dawn of time. “So… what now?”

“We wait about thirty minutes…”

Lucy was already trotting towards the door. “Now that my garments are safely in the wash I think I’ll go give that smokestack of a mud mare a piece of my mind.” she growled closing the door behind her.

“Uh oh..”

“Damn right uh oh!” Grumbled Moonstone quickly making for door. “Sketchy watch the laundry, I’m going to keep Lucy from getting plucked.”

“But I…”

“And don't wander off!” The door slammed behind him, leaving me alone in the back room, silent of all but the rumble of the ancient machine swirling colors against the glass.

“Horseapples…” I hunched. “Okay, Sketchy… you’ve been left unsupervised yet again. You just need to sit here…and watch the laundry. Sit here…and watch.. The…”

3 minutes later.

I lay sprawled upon the ruined linoleum floor, staring at the moldy ceiling as my soul slowly left my body for greener pastures. For the current ones have grown rife with boredom and tangled with the weeds of inaction. “Lobest thou my dearly departed sanity. How I shortly knew thee in the zenith of thine existence. The apex upon which I hath built the memories that shapeth who I art and art not. Floating tither and hither on thine quest of self-reflection, penance, and actualization of the mind. Where hath I… I…. uhh… fucketh me I don't know any actual Shakespony!” I groaned sitting up, smacking my lips idly as I looked at the egg timer on the washer. “Twenty…seven…” I read aloud wondering if it was broken. “How long does it take to save Lucy’s uptight ass? I don't have anyone to talk to but Brain and the other figments of my imagination..” I grumbled watching the two tiny princesses look bored as hell sitting around a tiny chess board slowly moving pieces.

“Do all the drugs Sketchy… it'll be fun… fun… fun…” quietly echoed that male voice from my dreams echoing again.

“I dunno random voice in the back of my head… Doing chems without a prescription is kinda bad. I mean I did just mug two drug dealers today. Aren’t I supposed to get some kind of moral lesson out of that?”

The tiny Luna glared up at me while her sister giggled into her hoof and took her queen on the little chess board.

“Actually you framed them~ But who's counting really?”

“That is true, but they were selling to kids so it morally balances out in the end…right?”

Tiny Luna squinted harder while her radiant sister ate one of the pieces while she wasn’t looking.

“What's with you?” I asked the tiny figment of the night.

“Ohh don’t mind her. That massive moon on her flank is putting a lot of pressure on the narc stick up her butt. She’s still upset about her off-brand anti-drug movie getting trashed.” the dream voice added.

I looked around wondering where the voice was coming from exactly. It was omnidirectional yet… nowhere. “But… it sucked. Like really bad. I learned more about how to find, buy, and steal drugs from that movie than I did reasons to not take them. There was enough cheese to make a pizza blush, enough corny to found a town called Corn-Hub, and such a lack of story beat that a radish had to step in at the end to tell us what happened.”

“I always preferred Randy the Rad Rutabaga for that role. He had a surfboard and gave all the kids free stickers!”

“Yeah, Randy was cool! Best character in that movie.”

The tiny Luna was practically vibrating as she glared up at me like she was about to explode. Celestia was busy cutting up the chess board like a cake and giggling like a maniac.

“And what did that lovable rutabaga teach you?”

“Sniffing markers is cool?... especially if you have the 256 pack so you can style on your friends that don't?” I gave the voice with my best guess.

“Yes, but no. You forgot the 256 box with the built-in sharpener. I mean the other thing.”

“That all chems have an actual practical purpose? Like how Buck makes you stronger in an emergency and mint-als make you… smarter.” I blinked and pulled out the purple tin of mint-als from my bag. “Do they actually make you smarter? Or is it just a placebo thing?”

“Only one way to find out,” I swear I could feel a pair of claws on my shoulders for a moment. “Try one and see where the plot takes you. Maybe it’ll show you how to fix the array. The secret of friendship? Particle physics? Why diamond dogs are allergic to chocolate? It's all just one trip away. And if not… well at least you passed the time with a little harmless fun. Don’t overdo it though or you’ll end up like the other protagonists.”

I started down at the tin, I had nothing better to do, I was safe in the room, and as far as I recall Mint-als didn't have any long-term side effects. Like how med-x abuse could make your dick fall off…or was that buck?

“Fiiine!” I relented making a tiny Luna facehoof. I popped the lid, hovered out one of the purple pills, and ate it. Mmm, grape…

I blinked, Looked around… and nothing was different. I didn't feel anything… and the secrets of the universe weren't spreading their legs for me. “They may taste like candy but I don’t feel any smarter.” I squinted at the tin. “How many of these am I supposed to take for it to work?” I tossed the lid aside. “Maybe the effect is multiplicative with an exponential increase based on the number ingested. Perhaps there's some other variable I'm not seeing with how it reacts to my physiology. If additive then I need only take a few, if exponential then taking all of them could show me how goddess particles interact with quarks and magic ions! I could bridge the gap between the material plane and the metaphysical Everafter! There's only one logical conclusion!” I proclaimed lifting the tin and tumping the contents into my awaiting maw. I will learn it all!!

The voice giggled. “Oh, this is going to be good. Popcorn Moonbutt? I've got kettle and-”

“What’s going to be good?” I asked and then the world froze. My eyes widened, the colors inverted, the floor drifted away, and in my very hooves, I held the building blocks of the goddesses! All the tools of the universe laid bare before me! 42! The sum of all machinations! The meaning of the soul! The mission of the stars! The bones of the great old ones!! Ponethulhu fhtagn!! All shall bow before my awakened mind and despair before their new god! Mwahahahaha! ...why is the floor approaching my face so fast? WAIT NO-...THWACK!

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Bloody mess (rank 1)

-Sometimes your enemies just explode into a shower of gore when you hit them just right…or at all! Cause some small sick part of you revels in satisfaction seeing a pony get turned into paint. Also! Have +10% more damage.

Achievement perk Unlocked: On your shoulder (rank 1)

You’re not a bad pony, you just listen to bad advice. Be yee gullible or just filled with malicious intent you’ve listened to the angel(or devil) on your shoulder just a bit too much. You may choose to suffer only half karma loss (or gain) if your course of action was suggested by the GM or an NPC.

Chapter 8: Lizard Skinner

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 8: Lizard Skinner~

Dear readers of my archive, you might be wondering how a stable pone with such brawn, brains, sexual magnetism, and humility such as myself ended up overdosing on mint-als. Well, all I can say is… drugs are pretty bucking awesome! I can’t foresee this having any long-term consequences! No literally! I can’t see anything right now, just blackness in all directions. My hooves were perfectly visible, but I was back in that good old void.

I searched around in the weightless darkness taking in the scenic views of.. Black. “Well, this sucks… Is this what flight feels like? Or am I just hovering?” I thought aloud feeling said weightlessness, like that moment right when the elevator lurches to a stop. It's kind of like that but I’m not coming back down. I tried swimming, flailing, and attempting to TK myself but got nowhere. Moments before I was about to yell something about Pony purgatory the world rematerialized around me.

“Hey, this isn’t hell! Or even purgatory!” I squinted up at the blue sky and passing clouds. “And the distinct lack of well endowed angel ponies with great personalities says this isn’t the Everafter either…” I pondered, where could I possibly be- “AHHH!!” I squealed having looked down. “I’m In the sky! I’m in the sky! I’m in the bucking sky!!” I flailed tumbling in the zero-g. The ground was at least ten stories below, or as far as I was concerned, too damned high!

I wasn’t falling though and after my totally justified panic attack, I noted Bubble Town below me. It's like looking at a top-down map of the place but a lot more… real. Everypony below looked so small, like ants, unmoving ants. In fact, everything seemed frozen.

“Great, Im floating ‘LETHALY!’ high above Bubble Town and frozen in time! Who’s going to get me down from here?! HMM?! Celestia? Luna?! Discord?! Anypony?! I’m really high-....wait…high.” I facehoofed when it came to me. “I’m tripping balls right now. Very cute Brain! I’m so ‘high’ right now you wrinkly chuckle fuck!”

“Bingo Sketcho~” Cooed a familiar stallion’s voice as I finally felt a breeze along my mane and that sensation of claws on my shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe the betting pool we had going inside your head.” chuckled the voice that kept showing up in my dreams, talking with an invisible hoof around my shoulder. “You lasted far longer than expected, but I knew when you started free-styling Shakespony my bet was golden~ Three whole minutes, I almost lost, but you came through! Who’s my lil track pony?” he gushed.

I kept trying to turn towards the side I felt him on, but not only was there nothing there, all I got as a reward was dizzy. “You were betting against me?” I huffed at the disembodied voice trying to pin his location.

“I wouldn’t call it against you, more I was rooting for you to finally face-plant down the rabbit hole. Excellent timing too, Hatter is expecting me for tea and I think the readers want to see where this acid trip is going.”

“Hey! My readers would be totally invested in this conversation!” I shook my hoof at the voice. “I’m the one writing the archive here! I can make this conversation as flavorful or one-sided as I want!”

He hummed with an uncomfortable amount of glee “I just love messing with the meta like this. Do you really think it's wise to threaten me with a one-sided conversation miss bed-wetter?”

I squinted- no glared! “That was a stupid prank by Tulip! Not me! And this is my meta! I could go back and change this whole archive to say your voice sounds like a colt who just got kicked in the bits.”

“My oh my, the little protagonist came out swinging for the fences!” The invisible limb slipped over my shoulders lightly dragging the claws through my coat. “But little did you know, I’m a sucker for Hoofball, and I can play this ‘game’ too~”

Oh no… He had threats too, and I had no idea what this guy was capable of.

“A lot of things actually~”

“Hey, I didn’t say that part out loud!”

“So? Are you really going to argue with the disembodied voice in your head breaking the fourth wall while you ride a tin of Mint-als?”

I raised a hoof and my mouth opened to say something but I groaned as he had a point. Not that I was going to dignify his point by verbally acknowledging it! It’s my goddess-given right to be petty!

“That’s the spirit Sketchy! Not telling them you’re buying time with silence to conjure forth a comeback.”

“Will you stop that!?”

“No.” he sighed bemusedly. “Tell you what, Moon-butt was going to make you wait a few more chapters before the grand reveal but I’m tired of holding back the fun. I mean I’m the filthy enabler here, telling me no when I'm the one playing operator?”

“Wai-wai-wait! Moonbutt? Are you telling me Luna was the one who-”

“The one who dropped you in the pool of zomb-mes? yes~ Great pun by the way~”

Ah yes, he reminded me of my blood-boiling rage over that little stunt, I wonder how long I can- “Where the flying fuck is she?!” I exploded flailing in the air. “I’ll kick her ass! I’ll put my hoof print on the moon! Pulling that jump-scare shit on me! She owes me so many goddess-damned lucid nights with dream Pickle! Aghh!!” My flailing only made me spin in the air. But maybe MAYBE through the power of quantum physics, there was a chance I’d hit her.

“Ohhh myyy~” he mirthed such that I could hear the smirk in his voice. “One little pointing of the finger and suddenly she’s angry enough to fight her god~ Even only being half I love that about earth ponies.” he chimed.

“I will find a way to get Celestia to sit on her! And once she’s stuck under that divine ass I can and WILL have petty vengeance! Reeee!!” Spirit of petty vengeance take meeee!!

The wind brushed by again. “My favorite! Autistic screeching~ Shame I have to cut you short, Seems we both have appointments to make.”

“But Vengeeeeence!!” I whined, ceasing my flailing which brought my spinning to a slow stop.

“Soon my little murder pony. Soon~™.” An invisible clawed hand patted my mane. “But first… let's make a deal.”

“A…deal?” That's not suspicious at all!

“No wheel-of-fortune, yes make a deal.” suddenly my nose was booped.

“Ack!” my muzzle scrunched and hooves darted to hold it.

“I’ll bring stick-in-her-butt to you on a silver platter, and in exchange, you go on a little playdate with one of my favoritest ponies in the whole world.”

“Is it Fluttershy?”

The voice paused “...that’s cheating and you know it. Everyone loves Fluttershy, even after the megaspells.”

“Oh… Rainbow Dash?”

“No…

“What about-?” I started.

“Let's skip systematically naming the mane six and you just say yes? Less word count when you review the chapter later.”

“Dammit… fine!” I grumbled. I learned about the six saints well before anypony else in first grade could even spell Rainbow Dash! But noooooo! We gotta skip that!

He sighed. “Close enough.” followed by a snap next to my ear. “Toodaloo~”

“Tooda Who?” I asked before an hourglass came slowly tumbling past my muzzle, the sand sloshing within lacking gravity. “Is this symbolism for something? I’m pretty sure I’m too high right now to..” The presence was gone…just me, this spinning hourglass, and the tiny princesses clinging to its opposite ends for dear life.

Things got ‘Staticy’ around the edge of my vision, but more notably the world began to move. Something was off, and it was getting off’er by the second. Clouds imploded upon themselves, the sun moved east, the grass rippled backward, and when I looked down everypony in Bubble Town walked backward too.

It got faster too. The static grew and I began to hear this incessant squeaking sound. Ponies were in full reverse sprint, conversations were undoing themselves in split seconds, the sun fell in the east casting the land in darkness. Even the moon flew the sky in reverse.

“Waaaait this isn’t backward at all! I think I saw that group down there walking towards the town! And my eyes aren't getting worse, the world’s just rewinding like an old holotape!” I’m going back in time!

Faster and faster, by the time the sun returned, the clouds were zipping by and the ponies down below blurred. Day, night, day, and night again, I'd have an epileptic seizure if I wasn't higher than my last visit to the dentist.

The brief flashes of sunlight turned to constant cloud cover. I saw endless ponies coming and going, stalls being built and disassembled, caravans, and even shootouts. The walls themselves soon came apart too. Six seconds.. Six seconds to see that wall vanish and the neon sign flicker out. Brief flashes of pony-sized blurs fighting, fires, and explosions undoing themselves. Debris piled around the building, windows unshattered, rust splotches shrank, and cracked pavement healed.

I don’t know what was most haunting when the hourglass started slowing down. First, came the long silence as I observed the lack of activity below, all the grass dying off. Second, came the bones rising from the dirt, regenerating and reforming back into monsters and rotting ponies, fleshy forms un-slaughtering each other in a flash. Third came a world grey and dead as far as the eye could see. Fourth came the snow, or should I say the glow? A carpet of glowing green stretched horizon to horizon while storms swelled around me. I could only stare in abject horror seeing a dead world dotted with burning tornados, radiation storms, green lightning, and the haunting wail of long-forgotten bomb sirens harmonizing. Faces, so many faces in the snow! The ASH! It’s bucking ASH! Ash and bodies!

‘!!MOOOOOOB’

It came like a thousand rock breakers imploding at once in an ungodly shriek. Clouds burning black and green with balefire came down from the sky taking the form of towering mushrooms. They were countless, and each cloud that reformed came with its own distant shriek. This was the day Equestria ended. Armageddon.

Sweeping inwards a wave of balefire raced to the nearest roiling pillar of the apocalypse. It swept over the shattered remains of Bubble Town reassembling the strip mall. The collapsed sections reformed at the same time as many panicking ponies. Bones at the door de-conflagrated into ponies trying to get inside, other burning bones shot into the sky becoming pegasi fleeing for the heavens. Panic, mayhem, and destruction all played in reverse. The last thing I saw as the hourglass came to a stop were zebra warheads returning to the sky before it all flashed white.

I was… I was back in the laundromat’s back room? It’s different though…clean. It looked about as pristine as the stable’s own laundry room. Slightly dirty tile floor, shelves of Flim-&-Flam.Co detergent, bottles of bleach, baskets of towels, and the washing machine from before, but newer looking and half assembled. “What the fuuuu-”

The door slammed open “-ucking resource shortages my ass!" A blue blank flanked earth-colt with a messy white mane stormed in with a box of parts balanced on his withers. "Isn’t the whole bucking point of talismans so we don’t have to ration things like WATER?!” boy was he grumpy.

His mom…or I assumed it was his mom yelling from the main laundromat floor, was even grumpier. “Not getting to go to that seditious ass concert is no reason to swear like you're in the fucking navy young man!” I may have been clinging to the walls like a radroach but even I could smell the hypocrisy spilling into the room. I don't even know what's going on and I felt bad for him! Celestia’s titanic tits I never appreciated my dad more by comparison than right now.

He turned grabbing the door. “Oh yeah?! What are you gonna do? Send me to one of those damned stress disorder camps like SugarBee’s parents did?! I worked for those Lizard-Skinner tickets Mom! NYEHH!!” he slammed the door, knocking one of the detergent boxes off the shelf and spilling it on the ground.

My radroach instincts were telling me that maybe… just maybe, if I didn’t move… this justifiably angsty colt won’t see me. Then again…Am I In the past!? Everything was so shiny and clean! And what’s a concert?

He walked right past me and went over to the lone washing machine at the other end of the room, setting the box aside. “Seriously with all the shit I do around here…” he grumbled pulling various bits and bobs from the box. “Does she think getting these parts from Hayseed was easy? I make this business bucking viable and she tells me no?” I remember when I was this angsty… I think it was about the age all the protagonists in my stories were edgy half-angel half-demon alicorns with no personality other than their poorly veiled depression! Years later I realized how cringe they were. Heh... Never again.

He pulled out piles of bolts, clasps, and even a clipboard where he marked things off. “Military grade repair talisman?..” he pulled out a cluster of gems and wire from the box. “Check! One Stable-TEC water purification talisman…” he pulled out a more recognizable one.. Glowing a bright blue from the enchanted sapphires it was indeed a Stable water talisman.. “No idea how Smug-Bug got his hooves on one of these, but check! Gas mask, air to chlorine talisman, and air to ammonia talisman… check check, and check!” Did… did he just say ammonia and chlorine? “Now where’s the- Here it is! The ‘mustard gas to fabric softener’ talisman! I didn’t even know they made these!” Neither did I!

This kid seemed cool. maybe if I said hi he’d let me out the backdoor and hopefully not scream? “Psst!… hey kid? Don’t panic but-....hello?” He wasn’t even turning to face me, in fact, he even started humming an unfamiliar tune.

“Think I have a good four hours before mom cools off. Plenty of time to install the talismans, eat dinner, and sneak off to the concert that I PAID FOR!!” He yelled the last part at the door.

“Not going!” his mom yelled back, muffled by the walls.

“Oi… can you not see me?” I asked waving a hoof at him, then two, and eventually standing on my hinds flailing my hooves about for attention. “I don’t say this often but, notice me darn you!” Nothing…

“I swear if ministry goons do another crackdown this week I’m gonna strangle somepony.” He grumbled walking right up to me before his forehoof reached forward and- went through me? “Somepony short…with like… minimal ability to resist and an annoying personality to justify the strangling… maybe Yellow-Snow… he’s a dick.” he mumbled.

Huh, I’m not really here! I must be the ghost of Hearths-Warming Future or something! And he pulled a little radio out of my chest… from the shelf behind me.

He propped the radio up on the gutted washing machine and extended the bent antenna in the air with his teeth. “Ready for action!” CLICK!

“Zzzzt… The front lines for Hoofington continue to-”

“Nope!”

“Zzzzt… Flim and Flam’s ever foods on sale at-”

“Nuh-uh..”

Next was a familiar voice, the mare from Dad’s holotape. “Zzzt… this goes out as a friendly reminder to the loyal citizens of Equestria. Gatherings of more than five pones without ministry approval are expressly prohibited. Please only attend approved venues for the arts carefully curated to protect you from seditious zebra sympathies. Only together can we-”

“Well fuck you too Rarity!” I… I couldn't believe my hearths-warming ghost ears. That was the saint of generosity? And this kid had beef with her like she pissed in his sugar apple bombs? What's going on here?!

“You’re the bucking reason all the cool bands are in camps! Lizard Skinner, the Mossy Stones, and you practically butchered Creedwater in the street.” He growled flipping through more stations, the growing look of frustration showed how little he liked. “And now there's nothing left but this hoity-toity classical crap!”

The colt glanced around shifty-eyed before pulling out a bungle of wire, spark cells, and a coat hanger out of his bin of parts. “As they say, when the mare’s got you down the only thing you can say is ‘yar-har-fiddle-dee-dee its pirate radio for me~!’ Heheh.” In an impressive display of electrical engineering and mischievous giggles for a blank flank, he elongated the radio’s antenna and hotwired something into the battery panel. Silence… “Hmm…” He hummed rubbing his chin before picking the radio up between his forehooves and bashed it on the table until it crackled to life. “Yiss! Damn, I’m good” he smugged.

The audio quality was awful, layered in static, and the radio’s little speaker was weak as can be… but I could still hear it. The beats, the chords, the gentle riffs, and the emotion of the words. So many instruments I’d never even heard before. What’s it doing on an illegal broadcast?

“If I left Equis tomarooowwww~
Would you still pray for meeee?

For I must be flying on nowww~
Cause there's too many places I got to beee.

If I stayed in your world, things just couldn't be the same
Cause I’m as free as a pegaaaasuuus!

And this pega you cannot change! OHohohohoh!”

I may be an incorporeal unicorn tripping balls on mint-als right now but everything felt far too serene for this to be JUST a dream. I mean, I’m not musically inclined at all! So there’s no way I was just making up a ballad about free pegas on the fly… was I?

The kid sighed and hummed along. “Much better.” He smiled while he got proctologist-deep in the washer.

I started to feel weightless again and my hooves were leaving the ground. I frantically grabbed onto the shelves as my hinds kept rising higher, eventually pulling against my grip. “Cmon! I’m not done enjoying music by proxy! Ughh!! Lemmie…stay!” I strained as the pull got stronger.

Looking around the tiny room for anything else to grab onto my ass was already phasing through the ceiling. I don't know if it's the drugs, the circumstances, or mild brain damage to deserve witnessing a small miracle. Manifesting on the flank of the colt was a mark… a cutie mark, and the poor kid was oblivious to its appearance. It took the form of a wrench latched onto a bolt-shaped bubble… that's it! “By the power of pony naming conventions, I dub thee Bubble-bolt!”

‘And this pega you cannot chaaaange!’

My grip slipped bit by bit and my body dipped further into the ceiling. The last thing I heard before my mighty nerd hooves failed me was a sharp gasp and a proud. “Hey! Hey mom! Check it out!”

Slipping through the ceiling the music didn't stop, if anything it got clearer and louder as the invisible force pulled me into the evening sky above pre-war Bubble Town. Just a laundromat with an empty parking lot, wedged between a ‘Neighpon-Noodle’ and ‘Pappa Pony’s Pizzaria’ with much fuller parking lots.

And as the last lyric hit my speed skyrocketed with it.

“Luna Knows I can’t chaaaaaaange!!”

Completely brave and reasonable screaming was an accurate description of how I sounded as the ground became a blur below me and stars turned into lines.

“WONT YOU FLYYYY HIIIIGH PEGAAAASUUUUSSS!!!!”

Holy fuck I feel like I can fly!! Wait, I am flying! The world melded together with speed as the guitar picked up the tempo, and when it finally let loose so did reality. “WEEEEEE!!!” Legs spread wide as I flew on glittering hopes and misty dreams feeling how I only ever dreamed a pegasus could feel. Equestria passed below me, the world framed away to my sides, and you know what? The flaming wings and rainbow-trailed golden stars zipping alongside me were also pretty cool! A blend of every color and beyond rushed past my face in the cool breeze of SPEED!!

No level for you!

Chapter 9: Coltifornia Love

CH9: Coltifornia Love~

Amid the night sky and rolling hills, over the trees and power poles, were lights that beamed into the sky. I heard the music ahead luring me closer with all the energy that coursed through my legs. I was losing altitude and before I clipped the top of the trees everything flashed again.

I stumbled back to reality…whoops there goes gravity. My heart pounded, my ears rang, my eyes saw double, and my insides felt like spaghetti. Plus there’s an odd weight between my hind legs, like that’s the weirdest-... I moved my leg and felt the weight shifted a little. “Ho-ho-holy shit I’m a guy!” a hoof went to my mouth, my voice was different, and I quickly pulled the hoof away seeing the brown. This trip was getting really REALLY bucked up. Where am I? Who am I?!

I shook ‘my’ head sending my brain swimming a bit more until the double vision aligned long enough for me to see the spectacle. What I somehow knew to be the greatest guitar solo in equestrian history was being played on the biggest stage I’d ever seen. An island among a veritable sea of cheering ponies. I was on a hill in the back where raggedy tents bordered the edge of a forest. I’ve never seen so many trees…

More importantly, I saw an earth buck on the drums, unicorns on guitars, and a pega-stallion on the mic. I’d never even heard of these instruments before and somehow just… knew? Guitars, drums, bass, vocals, lighting effects, the electric triangle, and pyrotechnics! The concert reeked of beer, vomit, sweat, freebase chem smoke, and… and that is not what I expected sex to smell like but Oof… goddesses It was all mixed like smog.

“WOOO!!” cheered a mare next to me. I turned making this stallion’s shaggy chocolate mane fall in ‘my’ face. I stumbled before beating the double vision back enough to see a middle-aged pink earth mare pumping her forehooves in the air like the rest of the crowd. She looked like she had a decade on most of the other ponies here which… Huh… I guess older mares can party too. She had a poofy darker pink mane, blue eyes, a dirty ‘Lizard Skinner’ t-shirt, an office tie around her head in lieu of a headband, and glow-rings around her ankles. She sat on a blanket even dirtier than her t-shirt and was up to her flank in mint-al tins. Speaking of flank… for a mare in her late 30s she had really nice-

“Huuuurk!!” I sucked air, my heart stopped, and my lungs threw in the towel when my eyes fell upon the holy mark. Three balloons! I wheezed about as hard- no, Harder than I did when I found out I burned down her house! How was I gonna explain that?! She's right here next to me! Panic!!

“Oh, you don’t have to do that silly!” The saint of joy giggled turning to face me. “It’s just a house, It was technically yours to burn down anyways, so it’s fiiiine! So long as it was fun right?”

What came next was possibly the girliest squeal I think this stallion ever made. So startled, girly, and high-pitched, his balls, which I will never get used to having, probably got smaller. Sorry, my dude. But more importantly… “You can read my thoughts?!”

“Well duh, of course I can! You don't have your foil hat on or anything.” she giggled pointing at my hatlessness.

I quickly looked around for a foil hat! Surely this guy had one if she mentioned it! But she only started snort giggling louder.

“Hehehhe you always fall for that Thumpy! Seriously you and Summie Sum’s kid is gonna be so gullible I swear-” she froze and blinked asynchronously. “..waaaaait an itty bitty minute.” She squinted, I blinked, and she was suddenly right in front of me.

“Eep!” I meeped as she got right in my face making me/this buck tilt back and low as possible.

“Witty…bitty…Hmmmitty...” She inspected me all over, darting around this foreign body and peering uncomfortably close. How’d she move so fast? She leaned in on one side just to appear on the other the moment I looked away. “You’re not Thumpy at all are you?”

“Wh-what makes you think that?” I smiled sheepishly taping my forehooves together.

“I know 'cause Thumpy always complains about how awkward it feels being in a stallion with a smaller dick.”

“He does?!” I looked down like I knew what to compare this stallion to!

“Ahah! That proves it. Thumpy’s too self-conscious to complain about that! Who are you imposter?” she squinted harder leaning in until her snoot pressed into my cheek. “My pinkie sense told me I needed to meet somepony here and It felt like a Thumpy or Summy twitch. They’re always so fun to party with but you… imposter!” she drew back over-dramatically pointing a shaky hoof at me. I see mint-als and alcohol were doing a number on a mare given her pupils weren’t dilated the same.

“I uhh… erm… I’m not Thump-”

“Wait wait! Summer-Flare?” Did she just say mom’s name? “Little pip? Did you fall off the wagon again? No?” she rubbed her chin “Blackjack? You fall ON the wagon? You don’t look depressed enough… Murky? Dead-Shot?... The amount of mint-als you’d need to pinkie sense back this far is..is.. Erm…” she tapped a hoof on her head repeatedly making a rattling sound before something dinged. She pulled a somehow lit lightbulb from behind her back before tossing it aside. Reaching back again she pulled out a tin of ‘party time’ mintals and popped one of the candy-looking pills. One little crunch and her eyes dilated wide. She gasped as dramatically as I did first seeing her. “You! You’re Summy and Thumper’s kid! Welcome to the party Sketchy! It’s about bucking time!” Throwing her hooves up in cheer and hugging me!

“Y-you know who I am?”

“Course I do!” she beamed releasing me only to wrap a suspiciously elongating leg around my shoulder to pull me closer. “I’ve been hanging out with your parents for weeks! Been a real team effort getting Thumper to loosen up and party! I mean phewie me!~” she giggled. “I see my dating advice finally did the trick, huh?” she smirked wiggling her eyebrows knowingly.

I coughed “I… I am so confused right now. Like not just on an emotional, spiritual, or sexual level… like all of the above and a few more levels I didn't know I had.”

“It's reaaaaally simple!” She panned a hoof out in front of us waving over the whole concert. “You’ve got a hundred and three percent of the hot n’ fresh ‘me’gredients for some real grade A pinkie sense.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about…” I held my head “A hundred and three percent? How is that even possible? And why can't I feel my horn?!”

“Hmm, Summy did say you’d be a nerd…”

“Hey! I’m not… damn it.” I groaned giving up before I even got started.

“It’s like baking okay? If pinkie sense is the recipe… then Thumpy, Summer-Flare, and everypony that came before you were your ingredients.” she nodded assuredly.

“So what you’re saying is… the reason I tripped balls so damn hard I fell into the past is because-”

“Yep! I’m your great great great greatgreatgrea-” Good goddesses fucking me sideways, she’s just like the voice and B-Rad! At least she stopped to take a gasp of air. “- Great-grandma/aunt/cousin/thing!”

“What?! How?! Why?! Who the fuck- a hundred and three percent?! That’s not genetically possible! Why is the Joy Saint saying we’re related?! What kind of trip is this?! Ahh!!” Panic mode set in as I lay down rubbing my temples. The world swam around me making thinking all the harder..

“Is Thumpy still on that whole saints thing? I thought he got past that when we were slamming jungle juice at Dashie’s birthday party.”

“ONE EMOTIONAL CRISIS AT A TIME!!” I cried as conflicting information mounted higher and my ears pounded. Being related to Saint Pinkie is one thing, the saints saying they aren't saints is another, But my pastor of a dad anywhere near the idea of hard partying?! LIES!! I’d land a threesome with PJ and Bronze before Dad would ever rave!

“Okay okay, I can see you’re not having the greatest of times right now. How can I help get you back to a good one?” she was patting my back sounding concerned. “It's my job after all!”

Should probably get her to resolve all of these mounting questions “How is it a hundred and three percent?” I coughed feeling the stallion’s stomach swish about inside. “Ugh..”

She rubbed her chin for an analogy before lighting up again. "Look loki look lookie look it's simple~ There's a teeny weeny hoof-full of weeny beany cells in your body that know how to play the banjo is all."

Cells? Banjo?... I slowly blinked until it hit me like a flat-bed autowagon I probably knew how to drive by instinct. "I'm BUCKING INBRED?!"

"No more than anypony else!" She smiled sheepishly backing away like she was trying to minimize THAT big of an issue.

"I mean a little sibling-on-sibling action isn't all bad... Like at this one party, the Spa twins grabbed this stallion and-"

"INBRED?!" I repeated louder!

Pinkie sighed. "Only about 3% bread, enough to make a small sammich. And I would know."

"Cause you lived in a bak-"

"Cause I lived in the Cake's bakery!" Pinkie continued. "Sure I may be your great great great..." she goes on for a few moments. "-Great Grandma/aunt.. but that gene pool thingy Twi keeps talking about only touched two or three times before getting to you~"

I wheezed as my soul left my borrowed body. "HEeeeeee......"

"Bronze is actually your second cousin!"

I shriveled like I got bucked in the foundations of my soul’s bits!

"PJ Sammich is also your cousin five times removed."

I shriveled more as the memories of that gorgeous ass and big bouncy mane walking away were forever TAINTED!!!

"Aaand you share enough genes with Tulip-patch to open up a whole jean store with that party mare! Sure she’s a bit sour, but have you ever noticed she can cut loose just as hard as you can? You’re welcome!" Pinkie wiggled, smiling like she helped.

I dissolved into dust… or wished I could. She was making puns at the expense of my DNA. “Buck me sideways…” I groaned.

"You two are genetically similar enough to be sisters in all but parents~" She may be patting my head, but it was more like she was beating me while I was down!

"You'd be pinkie-winkie like me if it wasn't for Marble’s thing for big stallions~ I mean look at you? It took four generations of bright colors to go from Thumpy black to Sketchy-Wetchy grey! Twi could probably explain it better if she wasn’t so busy with… the war and stuff." The beams of joy waned for a moment but she was still all eyes on me.

That only raised more questions! So many questions I no longer had room for this stallion’s lunch. Said lunch went all over the metaphysical grass.

"Oh dear, First time doing a tin popper?" she asked patting my back faster.

"What’s a- hurk! T-Tin popper?" I coughed and heaved holding onto the grass for my life.

"It's when you pop the entire tin of mint-als in one go. Usually, you chase it down with something to dilute the effects and draw out the buzz."

Well she's just a goddess-damned expert now, isn't she?

"Believe it or not, I like to think you're just like me!” she continued. “Minus the pool of ink you rolled in and the basket of chillis that is your mane~"

"Uhhh… How?"

"Well for one you thought it was a good idea to down a whole tin of mint-als on your first go. Without a single thought given other than 'is it working?'"

"Too-shay..." I squinted up from the ground.

"You absolutely lose your shit at parties. Oops, sorry! Bad word, but true. You're a wild mare when the beat hits."

"Am not!” I protested pointing a hoof. “I'm a dignified, socially awkward wallflower!"

"Uh-huh, sure you are." Pinkie Pie giggled. "And Tulip-Patch is the element of chastity~" Damn… just daaamn! Pinky gave my snoot a boop.

“ACKK!” I flailed having been booped again.

"You on the other hoof. One itty bitty all-in-one 'sweeper' at that bugs club lets out the party girl."

"Did not!...wait.. What's a sweeper? And what bug? ...and by club do you mean one like the Pipbuck Enthusiasts club I signed up for in highschool?"

"Oh, you’ll learn!" Pinkie smirked as she wheeled in a slide projector and screen out of nowhere and clicked the first side. It was me in a dark room, filled with flashing lights, fog, and tons of dancing ponies. "Lemmie see, You started hitting Dash inhalers like an asthmatic in a dust factory." click "Got on stage and made out with one of the strippers. Classic." click "Pushed her off the stage and started tearing up the dance floor." click. "Huffed two canisters of super-dash to blow shapes in the air while twirling on the pole..." click. "Got into a bar fight and smashed this cute stallion here..." she noted with a laser pointer. "Over the head with no less than three bottles." click. "Aaaand woke up in a dumpster."

"Wow…” I paused looking at the projection of me sprawled on some trashbags in a rusty dumpster. “Why is that version of me so cool?!"

"In short, 'cause it IS you, just not yet." Pinky cut the projector off. "You go girl~"

“So your evidence for tulip-patch basically being my sister is your word and a slide show of what a possible future me is capable of?”

She nodded contently folding her hooves. “Yep! I can do a PowerHoof presentation of the things Tulip-patch likes to do too if that’ll-”

“No!!” I shot up pressing a hoof to her snoot. “No, nope, never, don't you even dare! I can guess!”

Pinky blinked “Mff grf hullmurf tafffum-”

Realizing I was silencing a saint I quickly withdrew my hoof. Bad hoof!

“-ike I was saying, If you don’t believe me go check yourself, or risk it, or just don’t think about it. I heard that last one will be quite popular in the future!”

"But PJ is hot tho!!’ I lamented. “Why’d you ruin her for me too?!" The things I’ve done to dream pickle… I looked down at my shaking hooves in a new kind of dread! “I gotta evict Dream Pickle now!”

"Oh please~ It's not that bad. As I said, the spa twins were all over each other, and everypony thought it was hot. Especially the tag-teaming thing they-"

"Okay, I get it!" I pointed a hoof, blood running down my nose at the idea of hot twins going at it. "It’s hot under the right conditions! Now stop telling me I'm related to everypony I wanted to spank flanks with!"

"Well, you aren't related to the spa twins working in Twi's fancy hotel thingy!"

"But I never said I wanted to..."

Pinkie did her suggestively wiggly eyebrows a little more.

"Further proof to ease all your wittle doubts is that just like Twilight and Marble, we’re both suckers for the big bucks." She bounced on her legs around me, a 'boing' sound being made between each bounce.

"I am not!" Defensive Sketchy was defensive!

"Denial is more than just a river in Saddle Arabia Wetchy~" boing! "Bronzy, Moony, Dr Zeeb's son (who?), Big Mac, and all those hunky royal guard posters Rarity put up everywhere." boing! "Oh! Even that Buck-Party magazine I commissioned for the mares fighting on the front lines~" boing! “All more buck than the average mare can handle~ But we don't care about that little fact do we?” she teased with a knowing leer.

I groaned as the pink pone kept killing me softly with her words. "Please stop talking..." Strumming my pain with her hooves, stealing secrets of my heart with her words. Killing me softly….with this nosebleed Damn it!

"Oh, there's no need to be embarrassed! It's okay!" she smiled firmly patting me on the head more. "I've had all kinds of fun like that. Should have seen the look on Twi's face when I had a pair of studs burst out of her birthday cake."

One brief snort and moments later we break into the same giggle/laugh nearly mirroring each other. Someone as serious as the saint of magic having a pair of hot guys burst out of her cake? "Ha!" she giggles just like dad.

"Twi may have been a party pooper turning them down, but I sure didn't~" she added in a sing-song voice while swaying her rear a little before the giggle snorts resumed. She started listing off on her hooves "Royal guards, Clydesdales, dragons, nerds, hoofball jocks, you name it. Each at some point made my hind hooves dangle off the ground while I ate cake crosseyed... or in Rarity's case, creampie. Not just because it felt amazing, but cause it's fun!~ The ones with stamina were pretty amazing though."

I’m gonna die in the past cause of bloodloss… I’m tripping balls so hard I fell into the past and I’m gonna kill this poor buck via nasal exsanguination. A real high point of my career right here!

"Buuut then I met the bucky wucky of my life and realized something." She booped my bleeding snoot again. "Big bucks are all kinds of fun, especially when they're so good your eyes start to look like Ditzy's.”

Why was that name so familiar?

“But after marrying Cheese-Sandwich I learned I'm far happier with a stallion who snuggles me, cares, and can cook~!"

“Dawwww! That’s so sweet-” I started, which was a mistake.

"I mean seriously, Have you ever had a hot off-the-griddle grilled cheese after an hour of lazy Sunday morning sex? Cause it's better than soul food!” She grabbed my face between her hooves “Better than cake!"

"N-no..."

"You should- no NEED to try it every opportunity you get with that special somepony! Hilt deep, non-stop, raw! Party till you're a limp cream-filled doughnut with a mouth full of grilled cheese getting cuddle-plowed by that somepony! Like Blackjack! Or Rarity! Or a doughnut! Whatever you choose I ship it!"

Yep, this buck’s gonna die… "B-But what about-"

Pinkie quickly turned her head back toward the concert. "Oh! They’re about to finish the Free-Pega solo, I gotta be quick." She pulled a pink riot helmet from behind her back. "You need to start looking for the Archive, I can fill you in on finding the key pieces later.” she put the helmet on, her mane vanishing within to a faint suction sound. Foomf! “Sorry about the whole virgin thing, you got the social awkwardness from Marble. The code to the basement is 5318008, and uhhh.. oh! And geese are just gentrified ducks! Toodaloo!" Pinkie pulled out a matching riot shield before half a dozen vertibucks swooped overhead and the crowd scattered. The dual prop vehicles pulled to a stop overhead causing screams of panic as fully armored ponies stormed in from the forest.

“This is an illegal gathering! Disperse at once or face the full might of equestrian law sympathizer scum!” blared the speakers strapped to the underside of vertibucks.

“What the buck is going on?!” I asked as clashes broke out all around us. My vision began to wobble and come apart.

“Compromising with Rarity that’s what.” Pinkie sighed before pulling the first straightest face I’d seen her ever make pointing at some nearby armored ponies. They wore pink riot barding emblazoned with ‘M.o.M’ on the side. “Teams ‘Pie’ and ‘Cake’ hold the crowd around the forest line. Send team ‘Biscuit’ to intercept anyone making a dash for their auto-wagons. And team ‘Sprinkle Donut’ is to leave anypony that runs for the river alone. Give them ten minutes to swim before tossing a canister of tracking glitter in the water. Show Rarity it works! Nopony touches the band! Give chase but let them go after a few miles.”

“Yes Minister!” A riot mare saluted before running off.

Pinkie sighed again, slumping as many more riot ponies galloped by, tackling and clubbing any concertgoers trying to flee. “And they were having such a fun time too…” she whined, ears going flat.

Wait…wait a second!! The Ministry of Morale is raiding the concert!? But..but! WHY?! This is their thing, isn’t it? Oh goddesses! What if Bubble-Bolt is here?! My gut wanted to lunge as I tried to stand. “O-Oh Celestia..hur!-” I pushed it back down even as my vision split from doubles to triples. “Pinkie! L-let Bubble-Bolt go he just…” I staggered as Pinkie head turned to acknowledge. “He j-just got his cutiemark. He’s probably here! Bubble..Town..” I coughed falling back to the ground and eating dirt.

Pinkie blinked for a moment as her jaw slowly dropped. Like all her other equipment she pulled a walkie-talkie from behind herself. “All units be advised, we have a code Cutie in the crowd. I repeat we have a code Cutie. Suspected name ‘Bubble Bolt’ bring him to……to…..to…”

Each ‘to’ looped and cracked my vision like glass, pain in my head just kept growing until the vision finally shattered. Like somepony was trying to put a pickaxe through my skull. Things went from shattered, to monochrome, and eventually faded to black with the sounds of the concert distorting into a constant high pitch ringing.

Ah shit, here we go again...

—--------------

Fortunately, the blackness didn’t last that long, unfortunately, numbness didn't last long enough!

"Oh goddesses my bucking head! Agggh!!!" I groaned, curling on the floor as the splitting pain from the past reverberated around my skull. Every little movement rang in my ears and made my head pulse against the confines of my grey matter. Hell, my horn felt like it was about to fly off and impale a bird. Actually, firing my horn like a harpoon would be kinda awesome but- am I in a cart?

Reluctantly peeling my eyes, blurred vision gave way to my surroundings. A blonde earth stallion with a glorious golden beard sat next to me as the cart bumped and rolled along. The sky was grey with white flakes flitting by. “Oh good you’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Got caught by those imperial-”

“Who-?...” I blinked a few more times struggling to sit up and dispel the grogginess. By blink four the golden stallion was replaced by a much whiter and blue-maned one. Moonstone!

“I said, We can’t leave you alone for longer than five minutes can we?” he asked gently putting a hoof to my head and pushing me back down onto a pillow.

The pillow was crunchy, but it served as a nice buffer between me and the road bumps. “What…happened? Where are we? Why do I feel like I’m getting spiked in the brain with my own horn?...and why is this pillow crunchy?” I whined conveying both my confusion and agony.

“Were in an aqua-cura caravan westbound for Applewood. And your pillow is crunchy 'cause you’ve been foaming at the mouth, nose bleeding, and throwing up on it for two days.”

I raised my head again trying to take in my surroundings. A blanket, some barrels, and a pile of clinking sacks. I could see the back of somepony’s head up at the front of the cart and out the back was this two-headed..creature pulling another wagon loaded with barrels. “Oh…”

“Dare I even ask what compelled you to take a whole tin of off-brand mint-als? If you have a problem there are doctors who can fix that sort of thing,” he asked concernedly.

“I don't have a problem…I just..”

“Says every addict ever..”

I facehoofed. He was right, yet so wrong. “I didn't feel any smarter after the first one… so I figured, ya know… maybe the effect was multiplicative.. or something.”

“Well of course you didn’t feel smarter. These kinds of mint-als don’t do that… if you can even call them Mint-als.”

“Wha?...” I blinked in confusion.

“Yep, These are just knockoff party-time mint-als,” he added pulling the empty tin out of a bag. “Didn’t you notice how mint-als was spelled with an E? ‘Ment-als’?”

“Bucking kill me…” I groaned rolling onto my side and holding my face in my hooves.

He smiled. “No can do~ This wouldn't be a learning opportunity if I squished your gourd and robbed you of your hangover.”

I curse thee you gloriously handsome… chiseled.. stallion!! Curse theeee!! “Not even if I ask nicely?” I whined louder pulling at my face before letting it spring back into place.

Moonstone simply sighed and smiled. “No, but ‘we’ are glad you recovered. Even if Lucy is a bit too preoccupied to say so.”

“Where is Lucy actually?” I looked around but didn't see the posh purple pega anywhere. “Eep!” I meeped ducking further under my hooves when a very not purple pega flew overhead. In fact they were orange…and a he.

“She's sitting in the time-out wagon.” he nodded at the caravan line behind us, whereas we were taking a long curve in the road I could see half a dozen other carts behind ours. Lo and behold was the aforementioned purple pega in all her big winged glory. As glorious as one can be sitting with resting-pout-face and a gag in her mouth. That was indeed a very upset-looking mare. She wasn’t really tied up or anything, just gagged and glaring at Moonstone who waved in return.

“Do I wanna know why?”

“No reason out of the usual for Lucy. Failing to grasp the concept that calling your airborn compatriots ‘Damned dirty Dashites’ might upset them.”

I rolled over onto my other side and groaned into the crunchy pillow, pulling the rag of a blanket over me. “It's too early in the morning for politics… explain it to me when I’m sober,” I whined.

“It’s three in the afternoon…”

“Too early!” I whined even louder, kicking under my blanket. My crunchy barrier between me and reality.

“Oh don’t be a baby. Your pipbuck said the chems were out of your system hours ago. You just need solid food and a glass of water… or five.”

“Uhhuh, sure it di-” I shot up. “You touched my pipbuck?”

“Eyup, sure did. If you feel like being extra observant today you can look down and notice I also got you back in your stable suit. After you stopped spewing like a fountain naturally.”

I looked down and I was indeed back in my stable-suit. The sweet embrace of super breathable blue over my body. “How did you even get this on me? You’re an earth pony. With teeth and no telekinesis…”

“Oh I uhh…” he glanced away for a moment looking for the right words. “Have a lot of experience with mare’s clothing.” he blinked probably realizing how that sounded “N-not wearing them just uhh.. With getting them off. Turns out the reverse is almost as easy.”

“You do realize I can't unsee you in mares clothing now right?” Just going to file that in the mental image repository.

“I know…” he groaned sulking on the spot. “Just don't expect me to actually do it. I may be willing to babysit two full-grown mares but I have some dignity left.”

“Can I have some? I lost all of mine somewhere on the floor.”

A deeper more motherly voice came from behind the cart. “Honey, if it were that easy to sell dignity a lot of broads would be out ‘ah business.”

“Who said that?” I looked back seeing a bored-looking unicorn stallion driving the wagon behind us and not even looking my way.

“Down here sugar cube~”

I looked lower at the two-headed beast pulling the cart. It looked like the cattle from the storybooks, but lumpy, missing a lot of its fur, and…oh yeah, did I mention two heads?! One leaked a steady stream of drool and was so cross-eyed you couldn’t tell where it was looking. The other smiled like a pony with a glimmer of sentience in her eyes.

I responded the only way I knew how. I suddenly flailed and screamed like a filly skittering deeper into the cart…and maybe a bit behind Moonstone.

Everypony around quickly drew pistols, rifles, and blades scanning the surroundings or looking at me. The pegasi swooped overhead as many of them were darting to defensive positions. Trained, tried, exercised, and down to a routine.

Moonstone facehoofed for a moment before calling out. “False alarm everypony, were fine. Stable mare’s never heard a Brahmin talk before is all.” The caravan guards collectively groaned and grumbled at the unjustified spike in blood pressure.

I on the other hoof peered from behind Moonstone’s torso. “It.. it's a what?” I glanced around the caravan seeing all the eyes on me. Either amused or annoyed at my reaction to something I guess was totally normal to them. My muzzle burned and I wanted to stay hidden behind this stallion for the rest of the trip!

“That..” he points. “Is a Brahmin Sketchy. Ever wondered what happened to pre-war cows? Well, here you go. Great company, perfectly sentient, and almost harmless.”

The one head smiled still though now in a more doting manner. “It’s alright dear, Trust me. If I grew a brain cell every time a stable pony pissed her suit screaming when they first heard me talk, Bip here would be capable of math.”

I peered a little more. “I didn't-” I glanced down to check “-piss myself!” that may have sounded a bit too defensive, gotta deflect. “But umm… what's wrong with him if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, Bip? He’s just a few coconuts short of a swallow race is all. Always been like that, always will be. Great listener though! Isn't that right Bip?” She looked to the other head earning something between a gurgle and a sigh. “See?”

“Yeah… it's actually hard to unsee actually. Waaaaait a second! If you’re a she, and he’s your brother… then what-?”

Moonstone bonked me right in the social cues… aka my head! “That's not the kind of thing you ask somebody you just met Sketchy.”

“Owowowow!!” I flopped back in the cart holding my head, firmly reminded of the throbbing hangover I forgot was there! “Could have hit me anywhere else!”

“I’d knock you out of the cart if I hit you anywhere else hard enough to notice. You don't wanna end up like Lucy. And before you say it, yes, it was necessary. Twas the only way to keep the caravan fare under 600.”

That’s an oddly specific number for- I dove for my saddlebag! “MY money!!!” I dug through the bag, I dug through my pipbuck, I even checked under the bags! “You spent all my drug money?!” The most money I’ve ever earned! Gone!

“Yes.” he said rather plainly watching me lose my shit.

“Whyyyy!?” I hissed, no, pleaded for a reason! My forehooves reached out for him, shaking as I shuffled towards him on my hind knees!

He pulled out a little piece of paper with his teeth. “Cause there’s no way you were walking anywhere in your condition. Food, water, medications..” He read the receipt aloud. “Your fair was about a hundred caps because you’ve been out cold the whole time. Mine was free because I agreed to be a guard. And uhh…” he glanced briefly back at Lucy. “The only way we could take Lucy after she kept mouthing off was to gag her and pay out the ass.”

I deflated like my newfound finances. “Easy come easy go I guess…”

“That’s the spirit.” the big buck patted me like everypony seemed so fond of doing. Seriously why are all the pats I get patronizing? Then again the only other kind of pats that exist are getting pat down by security, which I don’t want. “I'm sure you’ll find plenty more given you were able to rake in so much in just your first few days in the wasteland.”

He wasn’t wrong… more has happened to me in the past three…five? “How long was I out?”

“Three days”

“Huh..” -past week than has happened to me in my entire life. Craaap that means I only have a week to figure out if the surface is safe or not! I had so many questions I needed to get answered! Like why does everything suck? How did all these ponies survive? Where are all the settlements and-

“So that's what your thinking face looks like?” Moonstone smiled, forcing me to become self-aware of how I was sitting there with chin on hoof like a sculpture.

“Nah uh!” yeah that’ll teach him. “But that reminds me. Why are you taking me to Applewood?”

“Lucy and I never really told you did we?” He looked westward towards the horizon. “Over the hills there is the Applewood wasteland proper. I’m taking Lucy to one of the pegasi refugee camps that's supposed to be there. Get her back to her unit or whatever. And cause It’s also on the way back to the Academy.”

“Helpful, but that raises even more questions.” I groaned letting my forehooves droop to my sides. I tried to hover out my tome/archive but it only aggravated the pain in my skull quickly flickering out. “Owww…” I groaned louder holding my head.

“Best hold off on straining that brain of yours after the acid bath you put it through. Don't wanna break something and accidentally wet yourself.”

I perked “That can happen?!”

“I dunno. I'm not a unicorn. Can it?” he teased leaning towards me for emphasis.

“Alright, if you’re gonna mess with me, I’m gonna demand some answers in return so I can do my job.” I huffed pointing my ‘demanding stuff’ hoof.

“Ehh, why not? We aren’t exactly getting attacked by butt bandits right now so I’m up for a round of 20-Q. Unless you’ve got other games on that pipbuck there.”

“Nu! None shall threaten my Balefire Command score!” I hissed withdrawing my precious Pipbuck to my personage.

“Hah! Knew you were a nerd~ I prefer Striped Menace though.”

Luna’s horn in my ass now Moonstone was calling me a nerd too! It’s bad enough that a drug-fueled Saint Pinkie called me a nerd but now him too?! “And you! You’re…erm…” Celestia’s tits I need more comebacks!

“Don't hurt yourself, dear. Yer’ makin’ the same face Bip makes when I ask him to divide by nine.” Chimed the brahmin behind our wagon.

“I’m not gonna hurt myself Bi…Bihhhh…” I trailed off looking down at the motherly yet disfigured cattle. I didn’t get her name…

“Biphanny.”

“Biphanny!” I continued without interruption. “I’m just getting tired of everypony I know calling me a nerd.” I growled and started listing off on my hoof. “First my classmates, then my dad, then everypony in the stable, then the voices in my dreams, and even the ministry mares in my drug-fueled blackouts!” I huffed throwing my forehooves in the air. “I don’t need everypony in the wasteland calling me a nerd too.”

“Honey~” Even through the wrinkles, patchy fur, and flies, she still pulled off that almighty doting mother smile and gleam in her eyes. “You are possibly the most skrunkly-looking mare I’ve seen to date. Big ass glasses, carryin’ ‘round a book, and you look like you’d crumple faster than a soda can on a racetrack if a pony so much as looked at you wrong. You’re a nerd sweetie.”

Why must my delicate unicorn ego be battered so? The greatest weakness of my almighty magical lineage is being kicked in the dick repeatedly. I don't even know if skrunkly was a word but it sounds real enough. I flopped back into my crunchy bed and groaned my frustration into the pillow.

Biphanny peered over the wagon. “Oh dear, I didn’t think she’d actually crumple..”

“She's just being overdramatic,” Moonstone assured her as I groaned on the wagon floor.

“Am not..” I groaned in the pillow.

“Are too.”

“Buck you.”

“Glad you agree,” he smugged.

“Grrrr!” I pulled the pillow over my head while the two chuckled at my expense.

The wagons rumbled onward and the throbbing in my head faded in the passing hours. Those five glasses of water got me functional enough to ‘enjoy’ an afternoon taking notes on the surroundings in my archive. The rolling hills, the mountains to the north, the dead grass, and the distant sound of gunshots that echoed off them. Nopony else seemed concerned in the slightest about the sounds, so I shouldn’t either right? The cart driver and Biphanny turned out to be quite informative about the state of wasteland economics.

Apparently, since the war, Equestria either regressed to or reinvented the barter system. Gone are the days when autowagons moved truckloads of the same goods from warehouse to storefront. Back are the days of traveling merchants bouncing from town to town buying low and selling high. Supply and demand at its rawest. Bits have lost all value outside their collectors' value and the materials they’re made of, which according to the wastelanders, varies. This caravan, like many others that make the journey, deals in a substance called ‘Aqua Cura’ and radioactive soil that can be used in some kind of strange reactor. Apparently, the Applewood wasteland is one of the closest sources of those two substances west of Holy Canterlot. Something to do with the coastline and city infrastructure the driver didn’t explain very well.

“Hey Sketchy, you busy?” Moonstone bade me look up from my archive.

I paused my doodles of the cute yellow mare with the cowpony hat two wagons back. Don’t judge me, these illustrations are quite necessary! “Not really?”

“You know how we were backtracking to New-Appleusa to get your free copy of the wasteland survival guide?”

“Uh huuuh… and we're currently going the opposite direction.” I tapped my pipbuck.

“Bet you can’t guess who owns this caravan?” he smiled, hinting with his brows.

“No way…” I closed my book in disbelief. “Please don't tell me I wasted the past two hours researching when I could have been citing someone else instead.”

“If you insist~”

A long pregnant pause formed between us. I stared at him with my archive in my hooves, and he stared at me with that battleaxe and whetstone in hoof. The pause grew and grew like the dumb smirk tugging the corners of Moonstone’s mouth before Bephanny broke into a chuckle. “Oh I get it now, He’s being quiet cause you told him not to tell you exactly what happened. I should use that on Bip later, he’ll have a cow… or a stroke.”

I squinted at the stallion, but not just any squint, one of those lower eyelid first squints so I could bore into his soul while the cow pun gnawed at my own. “You’re jokes are bad and you should feel bad.”

“Hmmm no~” he gave me a pat and ruffled my mane. “I’m feeling pretty good about it actually. I may have died a little on the inside, but seeing you cringe makes cleaning vomit off you for three days worth it.”

“Tell me darn you!” I huffed, shaking a hoof at him.

“What's the magic word?” He asked, using all the smuggium that should be mine!

After much internal agony..I relented. “Please?”

“She’s up in the front wagon with her special buck friend~ you can go up there and meet her next time the caravan makes camp.”

“Finally!” I threw my hooved up high. “My quest fulfills itself once again!”

“I knew you’d appreciate that. Just remember your manners and try not to scream again~”

“Pshhh, Im not gonna scream,” I said, spoken like a mare who totally didn’t scream for all of 0.2 seconds before Moonstone’s hoof was over my muzzle. Would it have killed him to tell me the caravan owner was a zombie?! Or that they could be sentient?!

The wagons pulled off to the side of the road to make camp at sunset. The gentle whistling of the breeze was regularly broken by the sounds of caravan life and the sporadic gunshots echoing from the west. Tents were erected, pegasi were landed, and the caravan leader pulled out a little chalkboard. The mare..zombie.. Ghoul.. Thing.. had a patchy grey coat and the frayed remains of what was once a blonde mane. Much like the only other of her kind I’ve ever seen, the missing chunks of her hide exposed the never-decaying muscle below. Upon the remains of her flank still as fresh as is was in life was her cutiemark, a bunch of bubbles. Maybe she was related to Bubble-Bolt?

“Don’t mind her Ditzy, Sketchy’s just fresh out of the stable is all. Lots of scary things she’s never seen before and all that. Ghouls included.” He chuckled nervously keeping a foreleg wrapped around my face.

My protests were muffled and my nerdy-limbed flailing restrained while the ‘ghoul’ drew on her little chalkboard and turned it around. She never opened her mouth...

“It’s alight. Not first time.” She wrote before wiping it away with her wrist. “Silver Belle suggested ‘1 free scream’ Policy for stable ponies.”

“That's a pretty generous policy miss, Must get tiring having stable newbies scream when they wander into your store huh?” his leg tightened around my face at the mention of screaming.

Am I the only one having flashbacks to that one zombie that hissed, gargled, and schlorped its way after me?! Or getting yanked underwater and marehandle by a thousand undead mes?! It's a zombie! An undead!, an unholy abomination unto the goddesses that should be purged in holy fire and-!

“Bringing another to my shop for the free copy again?” said the chalkboard being flipped again.

“Guilty as charged.” he smiled disarmingly “You wouldn't happen to have one would you?” That smile soft didn't line up with how firmly he was squeezing my head to his chest. So masculine and..warm… mmm…fruit smell.

“Yes! I always bring a few. Take one” She trotted over to a satchel sitting at the head of the lead wagon and came back with a black-ish book in her teeth. It looked like it was made of a dozen different books stapled together.

Nevermind! A thousand blessings upon her immortal lineage! I pounced from Moonstone's grip with newfound strength, taking the book into my TK and hooves. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!!” I wiggled in place and held the book high as weeks melted off my quest. “Ehehehehe! You’re so much nicer than the last one I met. Handing out free books and not biting my face off. Ya smell better, a whole lot prettier, and also aren't biting my face off. Did I mention not biting my face off?” I grinned rocking in place and holding the book close.

Both Moonstone and Ditzy were reasonably taken aback by my sudden eagerness, briefly glancing to each other.

“Not that kind of ghoul.” She wrote.

Moonstone came back, placing a hoof on my shoulder to stop me from rocking. “So that’s why you screamed like a filly? You’ve only ever met feral ones?”

“Yes…Well, technically I’ve only seen one before, but it was in a dark room ankle-deep in soup made of its own steamed flesh.” I said making a nearby caravan pony pause his work turning a bit green.

“It glorped and sloshed, and its skin was waterlogged to the point of transparency. It was a whole lot scarier at the time, but I think I may have crammed that whole situation into the part of my brain where I keep all my other mental scars.” I tapped my head while that caravan stallion was getting greener and struggling to not gag while dragging a crate.

“And if I recall..” I tapped my head trying to knock the repressed memory loose. “It pried itself out of a pile of boiled-together bodies in the soup and crawled at me with three broken legs. It was gnashing and-”

Moonstone’s hoof was right back to my mouth. “Ooookay, that's enough story time for you. You’re about to make some of the caravan workers spew their lunches.” A few nearby mumbled nauseated thanks and quickly found work to do away from me.

Ditzy wrote on her board again. “That’s a feral.”

Preying the hoof off this time “A feral?”

She scribbled more giving her scraggling wings a flap. “Yes, a very degraded one.”

“Well yeah that makes sense. Just like zombies from those pre-war comic books right? Moving around without any organs to hold it all together? Smeltery is cold but hammers are still swinging?”

“Smelter?” Ditzy replied in chalk tilting her head and the board a little. That one eye looking off towards an orange evening cloud.

I facehoofed, of course, they don't know metallurgy or mining sayings from my stable. It's only been 200 years of cultural isolation to come up with new ones. “You’re undead, so you're falling apart and your brain eventually goes too, right?”

Moonstone and the few caravan ponies that remained nearby winced.

“What? What I say?” I asked, looking around at all the ponies acting like I accidentally called a fat mare pregnant. “Is that not how biology works anymore?”

Moonstone spoke first. “The whole ghouls turning feral thing is a very touchy subject in the wasteland. Entire towns have been destroyed debating the subject. It’s the justification of almost every single anti-ghoul law in existence.”

“Hol’ up hol’ up hooold uuuup! You’re telling me I was right for once?!”

Ditzy with mood dropping took a minute to write more on the board. “It’s a very unpleasant topic. Yes, some ghouls can turn feral without warning. They die. Towns ban ghouls. Many towns won't let my caravan in because of me.”

“But…but..” I looked down at the new book and my hooves and then back to the half-decayed mare. “You’re the chillest ghoul I’ve met thus far!”

“That's not a very high bar Sketchy…” Moonstone added.

“Grrr… okay, allow me to rephrase that then. You're one of the chillest ponies I’ve met thus far. Everypony else has either wanted something, insulted me, or actively tried to eat me. Only pony who’s got you beat so far is Moonstone! And I mean look at him.” I gestured at the big white earth stallion next to me. “I only recently learned little old mares crossing streets were actually real! And he’s the most likely pone to help them cross said streets.”

“Do..do I really come off as that much of a Mary Sue?” he asked looking between us.

“Yes.” Ditzy and I nodded in unison, her derped eye bobbing around until resting on the mountains to the north.

“Hey, I have flaws! Nopony’s perfect.” he protested.

“Oh yeah? Name one.” I sat, folding my hooves.

“Well for one I’m a mercenary.. ya know. I kill ponies and look intimidating for a living.”

Ditzy raised her board. “Mostly raiders? As Caravan guard?”

“Well yes, but…”

She erased and lifted it again with a small raspy giggle. “Goody 4 shoes.”

“Ha! She called you a goody four shoes.” I chuckled with the ghoul. Seems even undeath can’t kill humor~

Moonstone groaned with brows falling into an acute glower. “I’m not a goody four shoes, I’m nice, Polite,.. gregarious even! I’m fully capable of-”

“Moonstone look! A lost kitten is about to cross the street!” I pointed behind him.

He spun around in an instant looking around “Where?!”

To say I could barely contain the snickering was an understatement. I was leaking snickers, giggles, and snorts like…uhh.. I jab at Tulip-Patch too much, so lets go with ‘leaked like that one sink on B2’. So by leaking I mean “Ahahaha!! Hehehehee!! He actually Lohohohooked! Ahah!” Rolling on the ground laughing at the perturbed stallion’s expense..

“Oh, har har very cute..” His glower was back with a vengeance. “I figured you and Lucy would be nicer to me given how much I go out of my way for you two. But apparently it's just open season to pick on the goody-4-shoes.”

While I was busy still rolling on the floor, Ditzy smiled with her remaining teeth and wrote something else. “She’s picks on you cause she likes you.” Scribble scribble~ “Only friends can tease eachother like that without being mean.”

I sat up. “Wait a second… friends?” The concept still felt so weird to say. “So that whole getting shot in the ass thing was real?!”

Ditzy blinked and turned to moonstone before writing more. “You shot her in the ass?”

Moonstone scratched his mane. “Well..it was an accident.”

Ditzy rasped a laugh and wrote. “Your doomed” before extending her cold dead hooves to both of us and squishing us all together in one big hug.

It was like being hugged by the grandma I never had… a very cold, dead grandma who had bits of exposed flesh touching me. Fortunately, the cold smell of death was balanced out by Moonstone’s warmth and pleasant fruit smell. I even managed not to gag! Go me! There was one little thing though I couldn’t let go. “You misspelled ‘you’re’.”

Moonstone looked down at me. “Wow, didnt know I rescued a grammar zebra.” He looked back to ditzy. “Can I trade her in?”

Ditzy shook her head no and held all three of us together, scraggly pega wings fluttering behind her.

As nice as this hug was having the warmth sucked out of me on one side and poured into me on the other… my ear twitched. There was something distant but it sounded so…familiar somehow. A beat.. made with some kind of trumpet and piano…whatever a piano was. “Does anypony else hear that?”

“Hear what?” Moonstone asked looking down at me, his own ears perking up trying to hear.

The sound grew steadily louder and mixed with the commotion of the caravan camp. “Well it sounds kinda like a beat?... I think I hear words too.” I strained to hear with with every passing second it grew easier.

“And uhh.. What’s it saying?” He asked with a growing tinge of concern, even Ditzy started to frown a little and look at me.

I repeated them best I could. “Coltifornia knows how to party.. In the ‘citay’ of L and P… In the city…the city of..Clopton?” I did my best sound out out as it came to me.

Moonstone’s expression dropped. “Oh, horseapples! RACERS!” He yelled out to the rest of the camp and in a moment put all his weight into tackling me and Ditzy.

The camp erupted into panicked screams and ponies dashing off the ruined asphalt. The world slowed down in the embrace of the tackling Moonstone. Within a second of being tackled, the highway erupted into a stampede of hooves, screaming steel, and gunfire.

“Out of the fucking way!!” reverberated in the air as the most in-tact auto-wagon I'd seen to date screamed on by. The rusted bullet-hole-riddled hull of an autowagon was being pulled by a pack of slavering pega-ghouls a dozen strong. Each was lashed together with ropes, blinded by metal plates nailed over the eyes, and any body part not covered in rusty spiked plates was impaled by even bigger spikes going in one side and out the other.

“Welcome to the Wild Wild West, a city as untouchable as a ministry nest.
Tracks hit your ear like a slug to your chest. Cause there's a lack of less in the city of sex.” Boomed from various speakers strapped all over the wagon’s exterior.

Much like the ghouls, the auto-wagon was adorned bumper to bumper in spikes, plates, and rebar. What little of the body left exposed showed flaking white paint and tarnished chrome. Many of the spikes were adorned with skulls and bloody rags… just like the drivers! Having clearly once been an autowagon with an inside, it has since been converted into a more open-air murder carriage with a prominent seat at the front. A makeshift flagpole bearing a pink sheet with three vertical red lines sticking out of the backseat among a pile of ammo boxes. Two ponies were up front, A raggedy pale blue earther in spiky leather bearing his teeth and cracking the reins to the ghouls. His partner, a dirty red unicorn, had her horn glowing and her mouth open screaming bloody murder as she unloaded a ramshackle SMG at the wagon behind them.. And anypony nearby.

“We in the South-Luna coast where the zebra hemp be

The land where you neva’ find a dance floor empty”

The next Auto-wagon could hardly be called such, it was more a bulky emerald-cut box of hardened steel on wheels. I’d only ever read about robo-ponies in school, a technological achievement created by the Robronco company and widely adopted by the Ministry of Wartime Technology. Now I wasn’t seeing just one, but a dozen being used to pull the steel monstrosity. The SMG’s small caliber rounds sparked and ricocheted off the robo-ponies who charged ahead unflinching. Like the wagon ahead of them they also had a banner blowing in the wind, blue with a winged sword surrounded by apples. In the driver's seats were another two ponies, that just like their spinning rims, gleamed with ancient chrome. Clad head to tail in thick plates of something else from the history books, Power armor. Suits that turned pre-war soldiers into one-pony armies. Bullet-proof, magically resistant, stronger than 20 stallions, all the benefits of a pipbuck, and- “Out of the way peasants! Were attempting to win thine admiration here! Squire! put these tribal savages in the ground would you?” Holy horseapples they talk just like B-Rad!

“Yes sire!” answered the 2nd smaller one as a pod deployed from his shoulder and a red aiming reticule came down over his visor.

As fast as they arrived the racing wagons rode past us in a cloud of small rocks, fading music, and dust. The last things seen were streams of smoke shooting out the front of the blocky wagon followed by clusters of small explosions around the pointy wagon in the lead.

Time, unfortunately, resumed resulting in a very heavy Moonstone landing on top of me! Crushed like my hopes and dreams of a threesome with Bronze and PJ, the air was squished out of me. “Ack!” I wheezed, flailing under the big heroic stallion until he got off of us. Luna’s horn in my ass he was heavy!!

“You two okay? Anyone hurt?” he looked between us while I lay there in a small me-shaped crater wheezing and glasses skewed. Tiny princesses circling my head.

Ditzy got up with ease and nodded in assurance before looking back at the rest of the caravan, several ponies were crying out.

I struggled to drag myself upright and get my glasses back on when another caravan mare, the cute yellow one with the cowpony hat, ran up to us. “Boss mare, Wagon five got sprayed. Mareian caught several rounds ‘er legs and muh’ left wheels dun’ got shredded.”

Moonstone perked. “Wagon five?.. Lucy!!” He, ditzy, and the cute mare ran off leaving me to cough and straighten my glasses.

I'd been left alone, surrounded by recovering caravan goers checking for injuries. The pegasi were back up in the air patrolling for more racers and… buck! My glasses were cracked again! Now I’m upset!

I got up, shook myself off, and started marching up the hill the two wagons just went over. “Try to run over my new friends, will they? After everything I’ve been through this past week?!” I drew my magic flintlock and climbed/walked up the hill cranking the gun to capacity. Glowing and sparking with energy as I hovered it alongside me I crested the hill, the setting sun in my face.

A city, or at least the remains of one, sprawled in the goddess rays of the setting sun like a halo. Countless towers of glass and steel stood as a monument to the ingenuity of those who came before. Even as a broken shadow of its former self, each building looked like it could house all of 83 a few times over, the ones that weren’t leaning or broken in half that is. The longer I looked and mentally compared to the pictures from Miss Appleboom’s history book the more it looked…wrong. I mean balefire blasts will do that to a city but this wasn’t leveled… it was smashed and seeping with a glowing green fog.

Focus me! “Alright, where’d you wastes of genetic material drive off to?! We had the bucking right-of-way!” Foallike wonder aside, I looked around for the ‘racers’ along the highway leading into the city. The road split in two under a green bullet-riddled sign hanging onto its supports for dear life. It read ‘Downtown Applewood’ above a down arrow and ‘Los Pegasus’ under an up arrow. Somepony even spraypainted ‘Cherri-Streams Rulez’ in pink above where Applewood was written. More of those red-striped banners hung from the sign too. Further down on the Los Pegasus side the road abruptly stopped at a ramp. “What the hay…” I squinted, adjusting my glasses, and looked at the ramp, and then the city, then back to the sign, then the city. “oh…OH!”

The sun fell further reducing the glare revealing the truth. Los Pegasus was a city atop another city, or in this case ‘dropped’ on another city. That's why it looks like there were more buildings than space for them! How did the ancients even get a city in the sky? I know the goddesses can do some amazing things but- “There they are!!”

The grassy vale the highway rested in spilled out into a sprawling expanse of smaller and smaller hills sloping down into a carpet of 1-2 story ruins that eventually sloped back up into sky-scrapers and spires. The two wagons were about to disappear into the streets of that carpet where I’d likely never see them again. They were far away, moving fast, and had sporadic cover from the ruins, dead trees, and the collapsed remains of the old highway. Still, what kind of mare would I be if I didn't try and teach them a lesson? My flintlock may be nearly as inaccurate as Lucy, but it kicks ass when it hits! Which I might! Just gotta line up the shot.. Hold my mouth just right aaaaaand…

PWOOOOOOOMM!~

I’d have to ask Lucy for more spark batteries but the valley cracked with the thunderous shot reverberating off the mountains. The Glowing red streak of magic zipped across the sky and.. Hit one of the support beam joints holding up the highway sign. It stayed upright for a few moments, but the glowing joint in the framework began to fold, leading to the final collapse of the ancient sign kicking up a cloud of debris.

I winced and seethed. “Hssss… ahh… ooooh that's bad. That's really bad…” I backstepped away from the hilltop feeling countless unseen eyes upon my pony personage. The city and surrounding suburbs erupted into wonton gunfire, like a great beast roaring back at a new challenger. Tracer rounds, magic beams, and what I learned to be fireworks went up in the air, asserting their presence. “How many ponies live here?”

The last I saw of the racers were the four of them looking up in my direction before vanishing into the ruined streets and resuming their fight. At least I didn't hit the big ass ‘APPLEWOOD’ sign on the hill north of here. Though it looks like somepony already got to a few of the letters…

‘zzziiip- PING!”

A round exploded one of the nearby shards of cracked asphalt adding yet another small pothole to to route-10.

Looking at the new hole jaw agape “I should… go check on Lucy. Yeah, check on Lucy, and make sure she’s okay. Before I get shot..” I backed away from the hilltop faster and as soon as I felt out of view of the city turned and bolted down the hill whistling as innocently as I could.

At the bottom of the hill, it felt like the camp was staring at me too. Being the center of attention had never been my forte so I did my best to keep that innocent whistling going and quickly skitter to wagon five.

The caravan had started rapidly packing camp back up. Biphany, Moonstone, and Lucy all sat near wagon five looking perfectly unscathed. Seemed the only major injury was the teal blue ‘Mareian’ getting her left foreleg bandaged with three slowly growing red splotches.

“Oh thank Celestia you’re okay Lucy,” I said approaching her and Moonstone. “Why uhh.. Why is everypony packing up? We just got here?”

Moonstone sighed and opened his mouth to speak but a surprisingly un-gagged Lucy stepped right in. “Cause you bucking announced where we were to all of raider country like an Imbecile!”

“I…I what?” I meeped and shrank, the world getting much larger around me.

Moonstone used a hoof to gently pull Lucy back. “What Lucy means to say is that since the caravan was spotted by the racers they need to change routes to avoid raiders that now know where they are.”

“And..” Lucy added with a glare.

“Aaaand tend to their wounded at a friendlier…closer settlement. Meaning instead of passing the enclave refugee camp on their way to the coast, Ditzy elected to dip south to Dayglow-Spa and get their Aqua-cura shipment there.”

“AND?!” Lucy barked looking like she was about to strain something.

“Annd… cause you kinda announced to all of Applewood where the caravan was,” he mumbled and smiled sheepishly. “So if we're going to reach the refugee camp now we gotta split from the caravan..”

“Oh…”

“OH?! All you have to say is OH?! I spent three days gagged with a filthy rag while you were high off your ass! Now you’ve cost us our safe passage to the refugee camp right before we get there?!”

“Eep!” I shrank further as Lucy scolded me.

“Lucy, Lucy calm down!” Moonstone did his best to reel the pega-mare in before she went off too much. “This is no different than the time you flew straight up in the air and yelled where the raiders were. You even pointed at them, called them dumb, and flew right back down to me.”

“That was…different.” she stammered folding her hooves.

“Cause you did it?” Moonstone raised a brow.

“No, cause…cause…ughh! Plucking surface ponies blaming the enclave for everything.” she grumbled turning the pout-meter up to 11. “Stupid raiders… and their stupid seeing eyes.”

The one mare with the cowpony hat on her head and cutiemark came over with Ditzy in tow. “Ah’ see everpony is fit as a fiddle then? No extra holes in yer’ asses? No limbs blown off? Tits n’ bits still attached?”

“Crude, but yes we're fine.” huffed Lucy still pouting in the back.

“Yeah…” I glanced around awkwardly. “Okay so this is gonna sound weird but this is like the 7th time I've seen you around and haven't gotten your name yet?” I worked that winning smile just like Moonstone does. I may have put the caravan in danger but now that PJ and Bronze were off the market It wouldn’t hurt to try hitting on surface mares right? RIGHT?!

“Oh, right, Gotta have introductions before your goodbyes n’ all that. I’m Lasso-Lean… former co-owner of wagon five.” The dejected mare looked over to the broken wagon being rapidly stripped for parts and cargo to load onto other wagons. “Replacin’ the wheels would take too long on the road.. An’ we ain't got time for that now.” She glared a bit…at me. I in turn looked away whistling as innocently as I could…to the point of coughing.

Ditzy turned her board. “Sketchy didn’t know, She’s new.”

“Ah know bossmare, but it was still one of muh’ wagons. Ah’ only got three ah the things.” Lasso groaned. “Still, it was nice meeting yall.” She looked to Moonstone. “The rest of yer’ payment will be forwarded to yer’ parent’s account at the Academy, and uhh… me and Ditzy here for lack ah’ better words.. Or words at all wish ya’ well on your journey to.. wherever you’re going.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again at a later date? Maybe get a suspiciously large jug of wild pegasus and reminisce about this situation as just one big funny accident.” Work winning smile work! Slay mares like your dad apparently used to!

“That uhh, let’s maybe not…” Having adjusted her hat and firmly putting a very sexily accented dagger in my chest she walked off to join the rest of the leaving caravan.

“Ohhh shot down, harsh luck darling.” Lucy commented watching the cowpony leave too. “Too few wings for my taste, but I’m sure by surfacer standards she was the prettiest mare in the caravan.”

I don't know what was more shocking, Lucy’s complete tone shift, or that she picked up I was trying to hit on Lasso. “Hey, I thought you were mad at me.”

“I ‘Was’ mad at you.. But then after a few direly-needed moments to collect myself I realized you went up that hill to try and shoot the ruffians that nearly killed me. So now I’m just mad at the situation we're in.” she patted me too. “I’m sure you understand~”

“I..”

“Excellent! Glad we're on the same page. Now where is my new saddle bag.” Even Lucy walked off.

Ditsy’s eye drifted but she wrote something new. “Is she always that fickle?”

“Yes..” Moonstone signed. “But she's stuck with us this far.”

“Friend?” Ditzy wrote next.

“Well..” I started before she wrote more.

“Shot you in the ass too?”

“Yes.” I facehoofed.

“Doomed!” Ditzy wrote again, smiling before writing another message. “You three be safe~ Sketchy check bag.” She waved and started walking to join the rest of the caravan dipping south.

I looked in my saddlebag and hovered out a burlap baggie that rattled when I shook it. “What's this?” Opening it I found the sack was full of loose spark-batteries like the ones that go in my flintlock. “Thanks, Ditzy!” I waved back watching the caravan go.

They walked away, headed south for a place called Dayglow-Spa, my eyes drifting from the ghoul and her scraggly wings, to the much more alive cowpony walking next to her. I swear by the goddesses only earth ponies can make mild dirt and grime look good. That pale yellow coat, that hot pink mane poking out from under her hat bobbing with every step, that tail, that bucking accent like the stallion on the spritebot had. The fact that her cutie mark was a cowboy hat identical to the one she wore, printed squarely on the fine working-mare rear-

“Sketchy?” Moonstone stated behind me making me jump a bit.

“Ah- Y-Yeah?”

“Are you done visually molesting that cowpony?”

I breathed wrong and broke into a coughing fit and quickly looked in every direction Lasso-Lean wasn’t in. “I-I uhhh.. have no idea what you’re talking about Lasso- I mean Moonstone.”

“Does she stare at my flank like that?” Lucy asked.

“N-no!” I protested flawlessly.

“Uh-huh… sure, you don’t.” Moonstone turned “Let’s get going, It’s getting dark and I know a place we can stay near here.” he added hoisting his gear up onto his withers. “Let's go~”

With a smile, a wave, and a new book in my bag, we parted from Ditzy’s caravan, venturing Northword into the Applewood Suburbs.

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Caravan hand (rank 1)

-You've become familiar with caravan life. However eventful or short your stint with them was you’ve learned Brahmin are great conversationalists with tons of advice, economic or otherwise.

Chapter 10: Button's Mom (1/2)

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 10: Button’s Mom~

“That can’t be how they solve things around here!”

The sun sank low, wreathing Los-Pegasus in fading celestine ambers. The orange light and countless ruins cast shadows over the broken streets, stretching further with each passing minute as we ventured into the ‘Suburbs’.

“Seriously, it's true,” Moonstone replied, looking back “The races are just how the warlords settle things around here.”

“What happened to just killing each other?” I asked while the tiny princesses chased each other around my head in little swords and Viking helmets. “Hard to call them warlords if they aren’t running around with horned helmets killing each other. Ya know... war!”

“They still do plenty of that. The races just keep their worst impulses in check. It's kind of a uhh… What did mom call it?” He looked up to the sky. “Ahem~” he coughed getting into a voice. “A libertarian gangster paradise, where you have every freedom in the book if you don’t get your head blown off by a tweaker.”

“By my wings!” Lucy balked. “That’s just a fancy way of saying this place is an anarchist hellhole. The enclave should have just torched this place.”

“Hey, it's not THAT lawless.” he added “I like to call it the law of common decency. Or as some might call it…”

“Don’t be a dick?” I asked in the back taking notes.

“Exactly! Don’t be a dick.”

Lucy still disliked the idea “That's just anarchy with an honor code! Trusting raiders not to murder you cause it would be a ‘dick move’?!”

Moonstone sighed and relented “Well I never said this was a nice place to live now did I?”

“He’s got you there.” I pondered “So basically we’re allowed to do anything and everything here? Say what you want, do what you want, make what you want, lie, cheat, steal… it’s all okay if not encouraged?”

“Yep, just cause the bombs dropped doesn’t mean Los Pegasus stopped being Equestria’s playground. Sure the war killed everypony, but when they crawled out of the ruins like radroaches they found a city full of food, booze, and toys. It’s been a free-for-all ever since.” He explained painting a pretty vivid picture of what the early days after the war must have been like. Where everypony else was struggling to survive ponies here found a liquor-fueled amusement park.

“Sounds… fun…and bucking dangerous,” I said hesitantly to tune out the periodic gunshots of said free-for-all.

Lucy huffed and trotted ahead of me. “Don’t side with him dear, I’m still trying to hold you at a higher degree of respect than the average wastelander.”

Moonstone rolled his eyes and continued mainly looking at me. “There are a few rules in Applewood actually, unwritten obviously, but most ponies abide by them. Like no raiding a warlord's main settlement, go downtown at your own risk, respect the results of the races, and if a warlord steps out of line everypony kicks their ass.”

“This place would never make it as a stable.” I thought aloud writing down all the rules and social norms of this wild region….land?...place? “What's wrong with downtown?”

“Aside from the corrupted cloud generators spewing radioactive fog 24/7?” Moonstone asked.

I blinked “The fu-…Yes…aside from that.”

“It’s swarming with feral pegasus ghouls. They’re like rad-piranhas that can fly. As soon as they detect something edible they descend from the towers and attack.” he added.

“That sounds...How do people live here?! And what's a ra-piranha?” I looked downtown where glowing fog wafted down between leaning towers with specks buzzing around them like flies.

“Simple, They live everywhere else. Downtown is only for the brave and stupid.”

“Noted..” I looked down at my book, writing ‘death’ above my doodle of the city skyline, and circled the center… many times. Flawless~

We passed dozens of former homes, each with little fences, rusty mailboxes, and autowagon wrecks scattered about. Suburbs they were called, endless houses with tiny yards, built for ponies flocking to the city during the war. The equestrian dream, four walls, a roof, an auto wagon, and married with two and a half foals… I have serious medical concerns for that half a foal.

“So this is how ponies used to live huh?” I asked trying to break the monotony. “Anything unique and interesting I should tell my stable about… all the ruined houses?”

“Well, While they are good for scrapping, some have food, small arms, and if you’re lucky functional kitchen appliances. I found this electric juicer once that-”

“She’s bored Moonstone.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “This is probably the longest she’s gone without being endangered or high.”

“Once!” I pointed out. “I overdose one time and suddenly it's a cornerstone of my personality?”

Lucy shrugged her wings so nonchalantly “And how are we supposed to know that? Addicts lie about their drug history all the time. Tragic really, that such a fate has befallen you I mean.”

I squinted, thinking of all the ways I was going to bap her. “I-”

Lucy sighed in exasperation. “It’s a joke dear, calm down. Poking fun at the local berry addict is just what friends do right?”

“No! Your jokes are bad!” I protested, "and the hell is a berry? Is it the fruit or new drug slang I need to write down?"

“Oh… “ she drooped for a moment “Well be that way then. Turn on your radio, or play one of those silly pip-buck games if you can do so without tripping on your face.” she said ignoring my questions.

“I’m not gonna trip on my fa-...did you say radio?”

Lucy rolled her eyes “Am I purple?”

“Are you a smartass?”

“I prefer wise and worldly with exemplary social reflexes.” she retorted, hoof to her chest.

“Smartass, got it!”

Lucy growled and trotted ahead of Moonstone, who simply watched her go up the steadily growing incline of the road. “Lucky this is the way we have to go…”

With my best 3-legged walk, I looked down at my pipbuck. I’d forgotten it had a radio…and a map…and a flashlight.. and that it was even there for a while. All of these functions were super useful, but I never got into the habit of checking them. When you know every hallway, the only radio station is an alarm clock, and every room in the stable is lit… a pipbuck loses a lot of memorable functions.

It took longer than I’d care to admit to find which knob opened the radio tab, but there were signals! Plenty of weak ones… and two strong enough for the pipbuck to name. ‘Early Warning System’ and ‘Wasteland-radio (DJ-Pon3)'. I shrugged, what do I have to lose? My sanity? The turn of a knob and static later I heard a smooth stallion's voice.

Zzzzt~

“-se routes clearing up, trade between the Capital-Wasteland and Stalliongrad grows safer by the day. I’d still recommend bringing a coat folks, frostbite can be as deadly as any raider. In other news, President Gawd of the NCR announced today that with the new election system finalized, she will not be running for reelection. A great day for democracy indeed. Though I suspect her daughter Regina is setting up for a landslide election if the wasteland rumor mill is to be believed. Remember folks, she might get upset if you start calling her princess.”

I stared down at the radio menu, ears twitching as I watched the wobbly lines of incoming signal. “Uhh… what’s democracy?”

Moonstone having caught up to Lucy looked back again. “It’s where everypony casts a vote to pick who’s in charge every few years.”

“Hopefully the NRC actually listened to the enclave about how to set up a proper senate. Something better than a bunch of cap-hungry savages locked in a room.” Lucy grumbled keeping pace ahead.

I had so many new things I’d have to explain to the stable! “But.. but.. What about princesses? The monarchies? The nobility I was told about?”

“Dead as a doornail, unfortunately.” Lucy sighed and flipped her mane from her face, “Aside from a few broken remnants of pre-war nobility that is. Enclave recon reported most of their connections to the princesses were as frayed as your mane. They're just glorified hoarders waving nobility around as a justification for anything. Looting, slavery, backstabbery, art hoarding, you name it… all in the name of their ‘noble birthright’.” she air quoted with her pinion feathers.

“Oh… I'm gonna have to find a way to explain all this to- what was that about my mane?”

“For those of you who are just now tuning in, we've had quite a good week here in the equestrian wasteland. Raiders are diein’, trade is risin’, and we haven't had a world-ending catastrophe in at least a month. Knock on wood.” Que two woody thumps. “Well, At least I think this desk is wood. But you wanna know what is real? Both how comfy my new swivel chair is and the commotion kicking up out west. I’m tellin’ ya folks the Applewood wasteland’s always been a rowdy place, but tensions are higher than Gawd’s blood pressure. As profitable as the Aqua cura routes are, I’d advise like always to avoid that boneyard. I’ve got a confidential report saying talks between the NCR and the regional warlords have started backsliding again after a skirmish broke out in BubbleTown a few days ago leaving three gangers dead.”

Hey, I was just there!

“Also out in the Wild-Mild-West, Some cannibal raiders along route 10 finally got what they deserved. That's right everypony, the Stone brothers are dead, The middle brother's iconic 50cal pipe rifle was seen being sold at market, and get this, my sources tell me the caps from that little sale went into buying a pair of saddle bags for a cute mare traveling with our unknown hero. Ain't that just sweet? The bounties have yet to be claimed.”

“Wait a minute…” I looked between the wobbly lines of the radio screen and the rears of the two ponies walking ahead of me. “He said he gave her the caps to go shopping before he sold it…then again he was gone a long time.” I mumbled to myself pondering.

“A great moment for Enclave remnants and scavengers everywhere. The previously missing raptor ‘Fog Bank’ has finally been found. After a year missing in action post-Operation Cauterize,’ it was discovered amidst one of the two wildfires that have inexplicably broken out along Route 10. With no Pip-dar reports on lightning in the area it can only be assumed the fires were pony-made. Accident or not the Lightbringer is still dousing the flames as it spreads closer to settlements.”

I winced. “Ohhh… right…the fires… hsss… I thought they’d go out on their own.”

“Whoever did it may have gotten away but they need to remember that fires don’t usually go out on their own, they can spread and kill a lot of ponies just trying to survive.”

I cringed even further upon myself. “Yeah, I’m very aware of that now…”

“That pony is probably cringing in upon themselves right now hearing their little screw-up made wasteland news.”

“I am..” I squeaked shrinking further.

“I’d put good caps that they were just walking along, checking out their traveling companion's flanks, and just happened to turn on the radio at just the right moment to hear this story.”

“I…I wasn't staring..” I looked around as this was suddenly getting pretty weird… I wasn’t checking out their…okay maybe a little, but Lucy stares at Moonstone’s flank too!

“Maybe they’re freaking out right now cause this all sounds super specific and they’re wondering ‘How does this strange radio pony know exactly what I’m doing right now?’ they might even be shaking in their comically large glasses.”

“Okay, that's too specific! Where are you?! My glasses aren’t comically large!” I spun around trying to spot a camera or some buck hiding with a ham-radio that likes to mess with me. “The fires were an accident! It's not my fault ghosts don't know how to put out fires!” I shook my hoof at the hidden pony somewhere around me.

“That’s right I’m talking about you, walking the burbs of Applewood right now, getting all cute and defensive. Don't you know? DJpon3 is all-seeing, all-knowing, and I know exactly who you are and where you are my little firebug.”

Okay, I reserve the right to freak out now, where is he!? He had to be somewhere! Am I losing my mind?! He’s in this trash can! He has to be! Just a confused-looking radroach...

“That’s right, The voice on the pipbuck knows your name too. And you better bet we’re coming for you…” He paused and I heard a chair creak. “SilverSpoons.”

I blinked feeling my heart just let go and fall into my stomach. My jaw hung open as my soul escaped my lungs and my hind legs shook a little. A brief chuckle came over the radio.

“Hahaa~ ohh that's funny. Some high-as-a-kite stallion named Silverspoon probably just had a heart attack.”

“That’s not funny!” I growled down at the pipbuck, my cheeks burning. I wasn’t scared! I’m just upset about what the radio personality did to poor Silverspoon! Yeah, that’s it! Buck these psychological warfare horseapples!

“Harmless fun aside folks, I have a few tips to get you through the night. Stick with your friends, keep fighting the good fight, and if you happen to be traveling through raider country, be on the lookout for toll booths and checkpoints. Hard to tell who got the idea first, but the NCR are the only ponies who should be shaking down travelers for ‘taxes’. Be on the lookout, and if you get caught in one, don't give them a reason to kill you, your best bet is to just pay them and move on…unless you’re carrying more guns than Blackjack or Jerry-Can the Third.”

Hey, that’s actually useful information…I wonder if it’s in Ditzy’s survival guide?

“Now that shameless advertising for the wasteland survival guide is checked off, I got homage over in the corner doing that neck-slicing gesture. Must be time to stop. And now she's facehoofing and walking away… Grabbing the basket of cookies she made for the Lightbringer…- hey now! threatening me with a wiffle bat isn't going to- ack! *wap!* stop! *wap!!* Not near the equipment- *wap!* I pay you!” *Wap* -BZZZZzzz!!

Some scratchy microphone fumbling later a mare's voice came up. “Sorry about that, We’re having some technical difficulties here at the station. Please enjoy this Velvet-Remedy rendition of Sweetie-Belle’s ‘It’s All Over, but the Crying’. This is DJ Pone3’s assistant signing him off for the evening. Now listen here you little-” Zzzt~

The music began to flow with subtle piano notes and a steady strum backing it up. A gentle mare’s voice took over about the time my hoof steps synced up with the rhythm.

“Its all Oveeer~ But the cryiiiing~

And nobody's crying but me~

Friends all over, know I'm trying~

To forget about how much I care for youuu~”

“Well, that was an emotional rollercoaster… I don't know if I should be creeped out or impressed.” I gave one last squinty glance around at the surrounding ruins looking for any sign of a lone stallion with a portable radio fucking with me. Nothing, Just the sad creak of a mailbox door swaying in the breeze.

Giving up, I caught up with Lucy and Moonstone and whistled innocently as I got nice and comfortable trotting between the two of them. “So uhh… how much of that did you-”

“All of it darling,” Lucy answered scanning over the countless leveled houses.

“Oh… what about the-”

“The flank staring? Yeah, we heard that too.” Moonstone added checking out the opposite row of houses.

I fell back a little feeling a lot of self-consciousness running towards my muzzle. “I uhh… should I just-”

Lucy looked back “Sit awkwardly in the back of the marching order cause a radio personality threw you under the sky bus?”

“He threw you under the bus too…pretty sure I’ve seen you staring at Moonstone’s chiseled ass too.” I’m not the only one going down because of this!

Lucy scoffed and pressed a wing to her chest. “Me? Take an interest in such an earthly creature as him? I'd be the laughingstock of my entire squad. Father would never live it down and the family reputation would be ruined! ”

Geez this is the most indignant mare I’ve ever met…

“If I wanted to sully myself that badly I’d throw myself marehood first into a raider den and accomplish the same effect. I mean honestly, suggesting Me? With Him? Some ponies should never be allowed near a radio dear Sketchy…” she huffed. “Don’t be one of them.”

“I’m right here you know..” Moonstone glowered showing three flavors of grump. “I'd say you need to fly home and collect the manners you forgot, But you’d have to be able to fly straight first.”

“I can too fly!” She barked back leaving me to duck down under the verbal exchange like I could somehow dodge the words.

“Like a brick!” he shot back. “You’ve got a turn radius almost as wide as your aim!”

“Oh lovely, now the surface barbarian is insulting my aim too. What do you do hmm? Swing that hunk of junk around like a cavemare?”

“At least I can hit the target with my AXE!”

“Well yeah, I’d hope you could hit them at point-blank range. It's the only way to justify something as moronic as melee!”

Moonstone jabbed her chest fluff with a hoof. “This stupid melee thing has saved your life at least six times in the past two weeks! Where you couldn't hit a single raider with those cap siphons if the raiders were used as barn paint.”

“Why yes, I am quite grateful for the assistance in dispatching all the raiders. You made my handling of them a little easier. Is that what you wanted to hear you brute?” she asked gingerly batting his hoof away.

“Guys?..” I squeaked in the background trying to get their attention.

“No, but a thank you would be nice!” He poked her again with the same hoof.

“I’ll consider a thank you when you stop touching me with those filthy hooves!” she shoved it away again.

“Guys!” I tried louder.

“Filthy hooves? I’ve washed my hooves more times than you have this whole trip! My hooves are too dirty for you but my ass certainly seems clean enough for you to ogle at?!”

“At no point have I ever ogled anything of yours! You’re the one who can't keep his degenerate eyes off of me!”

“GUYS!!” I yelled head tilted to the heavens to see if the princesses would at least hear me. The small ones holding their ears certainly did.

“What?!” They both answered in unison looking back at me.

“We’re at a fucking raider toll booth!” I pointed behind them!

They both looked back ahead finally noticing the scrap metal barricade spanning the width of the street between two collapsed storefronts. A dozen raiders as spike-covered as their tetanus hazard barricade looked on in amusement from varying points along the wall. Most of them had knives and pipes, a few of them had pistols, and one of them had snacks..a hoof-full of pre-war popcorn halfway to his mouth when we noticed him. Hanging from two pseudo-towers on both sides of the chain-link gate were a pair of banners. Three vertical red smears.

“Oh…” my two ‘friends’ said in unison.

A green leather-bound uni-mare with a pipe pistol spoke first. “Oh, please don’t stop on our account. This is the most entertainment we’ve gotten since we were sent to this post. Well marginally more entertaining than watching that one crazy ghoul do her shopping.”

Lucy’s eyes slowly looked back to Moonstone, Anger having melted away to a deer-in-headlights look before she nudged him on the back with a wing. “Looks like you’re up my highly experienced surface guide. Do that thing you do where you pay the smelly raiders to go away.”

“Hey! I don’t smell!” Protested the raider with the popcorn.

“Shut the fuck up Grime!” yelled the green uni-raider. “If I can smell you from here the prissy pega bitch definitely smelled you down the street.”

“What did you just call me-” Lucy started only to catch a ‘filthy hoof’ over her muzzle again.

Moonstone sighed in a level of defeat that betrayed just how many times he and Lucy had ended up in this scenario. “Celestia’s tits, what’s your going rate out here this time? Can’t be that high if Club Street hasn’t shown up to push you off a profitable route.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “Ughh.. it was Cherri’s idea. I know bread crumbs are still bread but nopony but roaches and coo-coo ghouls fucking live out here. 20 caps a head to continue on your merry journey. We take caps, chems, courage, and cunts… you know the spiel.” she sounded as burnt out with robbing ponies as a mare manning 83’s general store.

While Moonstone grumbled and fished through his bags it left me to sit in the background not only broke, but also wondering. ‘Why aren't they just robbing us for everything they have?’. I don't know when but I subconsciously hovered out my archive and started taking notes alongside a doodle of the barricade.

The popcorn-loving raider was surprisingly the most vigilant of the group up in his tower of lawn chairs. “Eyy boss.. What that stable mare doin’? She takin’ notes ah what we got?”

His notice drew a curious eye from the mare up front. “Got us a studious one do we? And just when I thought we weren’t worthy spyin’ on. Eyy! Yeah you, skrunkly looking nerd ass in the back. What outfit you work for?”

The degree to which I was internally swearing would turn a few pages of my archive black with censor. What was I gonna do? Tell them I was taking note of everything in the wasteland?! I needed to come up with a perfectly believable pile of horseapples and fast. “Oh, I uhh…” I adjusted my glasses to play up the weak and flimsy nerd bit and coughed. “I-i’m not with any erm... Outfit as you put it. I’m just new to Applewood and thought it would be a good idea to take note of local prices and…stuff..” I worked that winning smile while slowly closing my book.

“Is that so?” She pried Still eyeing me up suspiciously, while Moonstone did his best to stay physically between us and the raiders.

Chapter 10 of Dad’s big book of social manipulation. Lying is bad, but if you have to lie, the best lies are mixed with the truth, the more truth the better. The lie also being somewhat embarrassing can also lower your target’s guard. Cause ‘There’s no way a liar would use a lie that makes them look bad. Right?’ Thanks, Dad!

“I kinda figured it would be a good idea to keep track of what the going toll rates are around Applewood. That way I know the cost-to-speed ratio of anywhere I wanna go and can prepare caps accordingly.” I think I lost Grime somewhere around the word ratio. “I mean... The guys on the highway wanted a hundred caps each and to uhh.. pardon my Prench” I coughed into a hoof. “Sodomize my ass like a lubed-up squeaky toy.”

[Success!] While Lucy looked the most taken aback by the degenerate falsehoods I fabricated, the mare in charge bought it… for the wrong reasons! “Jeez, A hundred a head? No wonder we're getting traffic out here. Nopony’s willing to pay that much. I mean a solo traveler might have that much, maybe. But ain't no caravan in the wasteland carry enough caps to cover that.”

Right, sure, be more concerned by the price and not the idea of your competition raping me… goddess damn raiders. “So can we go or…”

“After the trip out here… I have 50… and you two are broke.” Moonstone lamented with the small baggie of caps in hoof.

The mare glared back at him, her gun always seemed to follow where she was looking. “50 ain’t 60.” The magic around her gun cocking it.

“I’m aware.” Moonstone glared back, he had at least a foot over the raider-corn but we were still outnumbered 4 to 1.

“Eyy boss,” Called Grime. “Stable mare gave me an idear’, I’ll cover the last 10 caps iffin’ they let me plow that posh pegasus he got with 'em. Ah heard fuckin’ a turkey is like fuckin a pillow.”

Lucy’s revulsion was only outpaced by the raider-mare’s snap back. “Didn't I tell you to shut up grime?” before casually looking back to Moonstone. “His annoying ass aside, offering up the pega bitch would let you lot pass. Would only take 5 minutes… maybe three and a tumble down some stairs,” she suggested.

Grime disagreed “Buck you! I can do an hour!”

Moonstone glared and growled at them both. “How about 50 caps, and a bottle of clean water since I doubt any of you have had non-liquor in days?”

She pressed the gun closer. “Water ain't one of the four C’s. Courage..is Liquor!”

“It is after the race two months ago. When the Noble’s driver gave yours a new window in the forehead. Or are we not following the warlords' rules out here?” he countered stamping a hoof.

She growled louder before finally pulling the gun back. “Fine! Give us the caps and water and get outta here.”

“Deal,” he grunted staring down the raider. Tensions were high, everypony was on edge, and the handing over of caps and a Sparkle-cola bottle full of water went as swiftly as hooves could manage.

“Cherri Streams thanks you for your bucking patronage.” She said begrudgingly. “Now get out of here, next time I see you I might not be so amicable.” with a sharp hoof wave two of the raiders cambered down from their posts and pushed the chain fencegate out of the way.

“Let's go girls.” Moonstone motion for us to follow…which we did, swiftly!

We’d gotten about 5 yards past the gate, ready to leave the raiders in the rearview when the situation took a nose dive for the worse.

“Wait just a mare-fucking second…” started the raider mare “I’d recognize that flank n’ titanic bit-bag anywhere.”

“Oh no…” Moonstone mumbled under his breath. Did they recognize him?

Unfortunately, they did. “Moonstone! Baby!~ Where’ve you been? Cherri’s been missing you something fierce.” We all looked back to see the raiders gathering, drawing knives, clubs, and pipe guns.

Moonstone turned to face them. “You know damn well I want nothing to do with that mare.”

“Yeah but, Cherri wants everything to do with you.” she grinned. “If we bring you in I'd probably get promoted to lieutenant or something, buck Whip-lash in the dock on the way up.”

“Yeah or somethin’!” Grime chimed in.

“So why don't you come quietly, and nobody gets hurt…too much.”

I was not expecting to get into a mexicolt standoff today, reflexively I tried to whip out my flintlock but the raider-mare’s pipe-gun fired and hit the road next to me kicking up asphalt. “Eep!”

“I said quietly, didn’t I? Now come on over before your little friends die.” she threatened cocking another round.

“How about no?” Moonstone scowled.

“WHAT?!” Lucy turned to him wide-eyed. “You’d rather they kill me?!”

“You’re not really in a position to negotiate here bucker. That royal-guard-looking ass of yours is going back to the boss on a silver fucking platter. The longer you resist the longer I consider selling those two to Marebreaker.”

Who in Tartarus names their kid Marebreaker?! Wait.. maybe it's a nickname… That's almost as bad!

Moonstone took a step forward. “I think I’m very much in a position to negotiate. Go ahead, try and kill them. Just realize that if you do, I won't stop swinging this axe till you're all dead. I’ll kill at least a few of you before you drop me with those dinky pistols. But who’s going to explain to Cherri how I got damaged? Or worse, killed?”

The raiders gave pause and started looking between their weapons and their boss. Why couldn't they hurt him? Would they risk their lives to try and capture a greataxe swinging stallion unharmed?

The mare looked to her band and went from a glare to a grimace, and from a grimace to bared teeth before throwing the pipe pistol to the ground. “Damn it! You’re all a bunch of cowards you know that? There's a dozen of you! Just grab him!” she ordered but the raiders seemed to be far more afraid of this ‘Cherri’ than of her.

Moonstone turned and started walking again, Lucy and I in tow. “Hey, Moonstone… What was uhh…”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he answered curtly, looking straight ahead. He seemed cold, like stone. That normally super helpful attitude was buried under whatever these raiders brought up.

“Right…” Was all I said in response, scratching my mane as we walked. I don’t know who Cherri is, but if taking him back to her was a threat, not to mention all the jabs and jeers about his looks and endowments, I could make a few guesses. It bothered him, and seeing him upset made me feel… something odd. I wasn’t the target but I felt upset too, disgusted even, and the longer I thought about it, the worse I got. My teeth were gritting and I don't know when I started. I had to do something… I had to do something or it felt like this sensation in my chest would never go away. Tulip… this felt like Tulip again.

Lucy noticed my state first “Sketchy, darling, are you alright?” She sounded concerned.

“I-I'm fine,” I said choking down the feeling as we walked. I had to do something.

“No, you’re not. You’re practically hyperventilating. What’s wrong?”

I had to do something. “Lucy..”

“Yes, dear?...”

I NEED to do something. “The SMG’s on your battle saddle thingy. They’re held in place with those metal latches right?”

“I umm.. I don’t see what this has to do with the situation-”

“Do they?!” I repeated glaring at the streets ahead of us like Moonstone as we walked.

“Yes, it's just the three latches on each, but why do-”

That’s all I needed. “Kay thanks.” I was going to do something! Something most ponies would say was completely mental. Amber light wrapped around the guns and boxes strapped to Lucy’s sides. Several rapid clicks later, the guns popped off the saddle and hovered over me. “I’ll be right back… I just wanna talk to ‘em.” I turned around.

“H-hey!” Lucy protested seeing her guns fly off. “Daddy gave me those!”

“Sketchy! What are you doing?!” Moonstone turned to stop me but it was too late.

“I just wanna talk to 'em!” I never knew how satisfying racking the slide on a gun sounded until just now. Cli-Click!~

I felt…Powerful~ Like a god... an angry god!

The gaggle of raiders were still standing around our side of their barricade getting yelled at by their nameless unicorn boss, and if I had anything to do with it she was going to remain nameless. “Hey, captain fucknutter and the dingus brigade! I’d like to have a word!”

I said I was going to have ‘A’ word… and as a mare of my word, that’s exactly what I did. I gave them one word when they saw me and the boss raider said. “The He- Oh Shit!”

Author's Note

('It's All Over But The Crying' is public domain! who knew?)

Chapter 10: Button's Mom (2/2)

(Part 2 of Ch10)

I leveled the guns, pulled the triggers, and- “AAAGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I screamed at the top of my nerdy unicorn lungs. A storm of lead spewed out the barrels of Lucy’s SMGs riddling the barricade and raiders alike with a few hundred new holes. Sparks flew from the barricade alongside spouts of dust and red mist. I focused as hard as I could to combat the recoil and slowly swept left. The muzzle flash was getting blinding, the rip of bullets deafening, and my hooves hot from spent casings piling around me. The barrels began to glow, and all the raiders that tried to dive out of the way were shredded like paper. The dust kicked up into a cloud but with a cone of fire this wide it didn’t matter. I kept going and going…and going until the ammo boxes ran dry. The pair of final disappointing clicks signaled the end of this bloody baptism of lead and fire. Empty~

My scream of rage piddled out into a little cough and my horn fizzled out, dropping both smoking guns atop a mound of spent casings. My ears rang and I heard voices next to me but couldn’t make out the words. So I slowly turned my head to see them. A frantic Lucy trying to scoop up her smoking guns from the casing piles, and a Moonstone grabbing me by the shoulders to shake me back into focus. The dust began to settle and my eyes fell upon the now ‘former’ barricade. The small caliber rounds may not have destroyed the larger pieces, but the barricade itself was no more than a pile of Swiss-cheesed sheet metal and broken beams. Plus or minus an ample coat of dripping viscera.

Between me and the scrap metal lay a growing pond of blood and bits flowing towards a long-defunct storm drain. Few of the ponies- No… raiders were whole. A leg here, half a torso there, somepony’s face splattered on the bumper of an autowagon. Not to mention the entrails scattered around the- “Hurk!!” My stomach lunched but I managed to catch it this time and try to choke it down. I can handle blood…Even if it’s a lot of blood… and intestines, and.. Is that a brain?

Aha! I was finally building up the iron stomach I’d been in such dire need of. At this rate, I’ll-... Who am I kidding I puked all over Lucy’s guns. Don’t judge me!

“By the founders not on ‘General’ and ‘Direction’!” Lucy flailed pulling her guns from the puke stream right as it occurred but not fast enough. I don't remember eating green.

“Hurgerfuuuluffrhh!!” The stream resumed as Moonstone's hooves got hold of my shoulders and turned me away from the scene. Out of sight, out of mind right?

“Sketchy?” His voice was calm, and soothing, like he found filly that just scraped her knees. “You okay? Can you hear me? You need a moment?”

“Mmhmm!” I nodded rapidly, biting my lip and closing my eyes tight like it would help keep the rest of my food down. My legs took wobbly steps forward away from the scene.

Moonstone followed alongside me slowly while behind me I heard hooves scooping at the piles of casings. “Over 500 bucking rounds! That was everything daddy gave me… and she puked on my guuuuns!” I heard Lucy whine like usual.

Ignoring her Moonstone's head lowered alongside my own. “I know it's not the first time killing somepony but Imma guess first time committing a uhh…” he looked back. “A rage-fueled slaughter?”

I nodded more, still taking steps and trying not to look at anything else that would upset my stomach. “MMMHMM!”

“The good news is the nausea will pass. The better news is that you got them all. Do you wanna tell me why though?” I wasn't ready to handle the big questions like that!

I swallowed hoping it would buy me enough time to speak. “They were giving you shit. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't- Hurr~” I gulped. “do something?”

“Most friends don't unleash their inner Rambo-Dash cause some assholes were giving their friend a hard time. But…” He gave me a pat that somehow conveyed the strength to open my eyes again. “Thank you.”

Who knew two simple little words could turn this full body ick into a gentle warmth that made me want to squee? Cause I didn’t know!

“Now let's get you a proper bed to pass out in. We're only a few blocks away.” he walked ahead and nodded down the street.

“An…an actual bed? With sheets? And a pillow? And no sand?” By the goddesses, it couldn’t be real! Even the tiny princesses gasped!

“Yep! Even comes with a 3rd story view if you’re into that kinda thing. I think you’ll like it there.”

“Stop trying to convince me, you had me sold at ‘bed.” I pointed out. Oh, sweet Luna’s embrace I miss the feeling of flopping face first into my bed…even the loose spring on the left side I had to keep a pillow over.

Lucy caught up jangling with a pair of boxes full of loose 9mm casings and bullet-belt links. “But..but.. What about all my ammunition she used?! I’m glad the dearie survived but she’s left me practically defenseless!”

“Ohh.. so close to showing actual concern for your fellow party member. So close.” He taunted with a faint smirk. “Don't worry about it, We’ll check a bunch of the mailboxes around the neighborhood tomorrow before we head to your enclave camp thing. Should find hundreds of small caliber rounds in about an hour easy.”

“How can you be so sure of that? These houses looked stripped for everything but nails and you think we're going to find ammunition out here after 200 years?”

“Trust me, Pre-war ponies were paranoid. Everypony was hoarding ammunition and stashing it anywhere and everywhere. Plus 9mm is super common, so don’t sweat it.”

“I don't sweat…” She huffed and followed along, having slipped back into full Lucy pout mode. “And it’s Noctilucent!”

‘Whatever you say Lucy~” he chuckled and kept walking. I may have giggled too. A weak giggle but still a giggle.

The walk was slow and in all honesty, I felt quite empty inside…for obvious reasons. The bunnies… I mean crickets were starting to chirp and darkness settled in. Amid the torrent of Lucy’s complaints about her gun was a healthy mix of concern for my well-being. She even asked if I had any lingering symptoms and went on a tangent about something called wartime stress disorder. I honestly kinda spaced and started drooling over the idea of finally getting to flop into a bed.

As expected none of the streetlights worked anymore, but enough collective light from the stars, moon, and glow of distant settlements kept things visible. The slow incline continued until this portion of the suburbs ended in a cul-de-sac surrounded by some houses in surprisingly decent condition with signs of recent repair. Were those fresh fence posts? And… semi-alive grass?! It was the least crunchy grass I’d seen to date!

This part of the suburbs was atop a large wide hill and while not the highest I could see quite far with my not-so-naked eyes. To the northeast, the hill gave way to the rapid incline of mountains leading me to believe this hill wasn’t always so smoothed over. The mountain range continued northwest and the ‘APPLEWOOD’ Sign looking over the city was a lot closer now. Spotlights shined on the massive letters from below, highlighting five banners hanging from the letters. Distance and scale implied the banners were huge, probably so everypony in the region could see them.

One white with three vertical red stripes.
A second black with two white masks one grinning, one crying, wrapped up in film.
A third green, saying ‘Club St’ above a crude black drawing of two crossed drum-magazine guns.
A fourth pink, depicting a stark white alicorn reared up high and wings splayed wide. Celestia?
And a fifth as blue as my stable suit with an equally Stable-TEC yellow pony skull with fangs and a crown.

The warlords, telling everypony Applewood is theirs. The cityscape they claimed was dotted with as many lights as the night sky above with a few larger clusters. Probably towns..or I'm just going insane…probably both!

“Here we are. 43 Peach-Tree Way.” Moonstone pointed out on the right side of the cul-de-sac. Two stories tall and the most maintained-looking one around. It looked somewhat like the depictions of white houses from the Ponyville Holyland in Dad’s book but more… modernized. Like having a small driveway where a rusted-out auto-wagon rested under a metal awning, or the power lines going out to one pole and being severed from the rest. Or the roof being shingle instead of thatch…There were plenty of potted plants though. “Now when we get up there just play along okay? No screaming, no questions, just pretend everything im about to say is true and if you suck at acting just try to stay quiet. Got it?”

“Umm… okay?” Lucy agreed sharing my mildly confused sentiment.

I had to ask. “Does somepony live here? Or is this your house?”

“Yes somepony lives here, but as far as you’re concerned two someponies live here, got it? And before you ask, yes Sketchy she is a ghoul and she kinda just lives around here minding her own business. So if you want that bed, don't scream.”

He didn't have to threaten the bed like that! Ghouls are kind, and giving, and have saved me tons of trouble in recent history, they deserve my respect! The living ones at least… that give me stuff. Still, I nodded.

“Good. Lucy?” he looked at her.

“What?... What are you looking at me for? I have manners unlike most ponies down here.” she huffed.

Moonstone facehoofed. “Just don't insult her home, She's been holding this shitshow together for over 200 years with no supplies so give her a break.”

“I make no promises, but I shall maintain the proper decorum of a guest as always.” How snooty can one pega be?!

“Great, She had a son before the war and as far as you two are concerned we all go to college with him and hang out and stuff alright?”

I nodded more.

“Excellent.” With that, he went right up to the door and instead of knocking… reached over and booped the doorbell. Making a feint ding.

“Biiiiing-Boooong~”

“The doorbell bucking works?! After 200 years?!” I threw my hooves up in the air. “Everything else in this wasteland is broken but her doorbell?!”

“Shhh!!” Moonstone hushed me before quickly looking back to the door, putting on his mare-slaying smile, and quickly combing a hoof through his mane.

“Just a moment!” A mare’s voice called out from within and several steps later the door opened revealing a cream-colored earth-mare. She was possibly the most in-tact ghoul I've seen yet. Most of her light brown mane and tail were still in, had both her eyes, and all of her limbs… the only thing that gave away she was a ghoul were the several missing patches of hide across her body and how she looked a bit underweight. She had a heart and a baby bottle for a cutiemark… was her talent having foals or just taking care of them? “Can I help you kids?” she asked head tilting.

Moonstone coughed and worked his magic. “Hey Mrs. Cream-Heart, I know this is kind of sudden but is Button-Mash around? We were working on our costumes for the Nightmare Night party over at Rosy’s house but the bus never showed up. So were…kinda stranded.” he smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his mane. This was rehearsed…no stutter, no little pauses for improv, just a smooth story.

I was far more distracted by a totally unrelated but equally important thought. Being so well put together it was far easier to imagine what she looked like before. Fill in a patch here, a little more meat on her bone there, and… sweet Celestia in estrus this mare used to be hot!

“Oh it’s you Moonstone, you know it's perfectly fine to call me Button’s mom like everypony else. I mean really, you college kids barely remember the names of your professors, and yet you can remember me?”

“I know but It just doesn’t feel polite, and in my line of work they really drill that Canterlot etiquette into us.” How was he this smooth?!

“I can imagine, I still think going for royal guard was a great career choice for you. Princess Luna may have her bat pony ones but back in my day being a guard for Celestia was the dream. High pay, respect, and you couldn't keep normal ponies off you. Oh, and the royal dental plan was to die for.” she giggled a bit.

Moonstone chuckled awkwardly with her. “Yeah, just trying to keep the dream alive I guess. Even if I can’t guard the princess the Ministry of Image would certainly keep a roof over my head. Speaking of which…” he trailed off leading the conversation.

“Oh that’s right, you poor kids are stranded and were willing to let this old mare prattle on. I’m sorry to say Button-Mash isn’t home right now, I dropped him off for one of his little playdates this morning. I’d have gone to pick him up by now but my autowagon won't start.” We all looked over the rusted vehicle in the driveway. “I tried changing the oil myself but it still wouldn’t start. None of the other neighbors were home all day for me to ask either.” she sighed in defeat.

“That explains the massive oil stain…” mumbled Lucy before getting elbowed in the ribs by Moonstone who never broke character. “Ack! I..I mean… doing your own maintenance is a uhh... Good step towards self-reliance.”

“I’m not too worried, My husband said he was in line to get promoted if some invasion into Zebrica goes well. We’ll just use the money from that to get it fixed. In the meantime though there's no way the bus is still running at this hour and there's no way I’m letting you walk home. I can hear all those gunshots going off from all the hooligans downtown. Guess you’ll have to stay the night.”

“Oh but we don’t wanna impose, Won’t Buttons freak out if he learns two pretty mares stayed the night while he was gone?” He wiggled his eyebrow a little.

What’s he playing at?

“You're right.” the ghoulish mom smirked before stepping aside and holding the door open. “Girls, help an old mare teach her son a lesson about leaving his mother home alone all the time? You can sleep in his bed, I made it for him after all.”

“Uhh…sure,” I answered making my way inside behind Moonstone. The interior was about as well off as the exterior. Fresh-ish coats of paint, the furniture dust-free and still neatly arranged. The appliances while clean were as broken as the TV in the living room. This felt like a lot of space for one mare… then again I’m from a stable where a broom closet was considered an okay amount of space for me to live in.

“Great, make yourself at home. Are you kids hungry? The powers been out but I have plenty of canned goods if you can tolerate lukewarm food.”

Food? Did she say actual food?! I looked to Moonstone and he nodded back with a smile. She has actual food! I haven't been able to keep anything down in days so much crap keeps happening to me! “That would be lovely Mrs. Cream- err... Button’s mom. You wouldn't happen to have any canned tacos would you?” I asked planting my rear on the living-room couch gingerly tapping my forehooves together.

“Sorry dear, I saw the promotional stand for them at the grocery store but the price was outrageous. 200 bits for half a gallon of preservatives shaped like a waterlogged burrito, and with money as tight as it is with all the inflation and resources getting diverted to the war, the 5 cans of baked beans was a much better deal.”

My disappointment was immeasurable and my day was ruined. “I’ll try the baked beans then.”

Dinner was nice, canned food or not it was still the most I’d eaten in one sitting since leaving 83. We got to spend a few hours pretending we lived a life before the bombs, and as far as Button’s mom was concerned we were. I felt…weird lying to her like this just to get a free bed and food. At the same time though, we were making her happy, fulfilling whatever memory/fantasy/issue she had bouncing around in that ageless brain. She thought Moonstone was in training to be a royal guard, that I was an art student, and Lucy even got her to believe she graduated last semester with a bachelor's in ‘Art history’. The day’s exertions were catching up to us… The siren call of a bed to flop face first in drew me. Speaking of which…

“Against my better judgment, your friends have the guest room all to themselves, so you get the spend the night in my son’s room.” Button’s mom gestured up a 2nd flight of stairs leading to the Arctic…I mean the attic.

I raised a brow. “What do you mean against your better judgment? You seemed super on board with the idea of letting us stay the night so we could catch the bus in the morning.”

“Oh you misunderstand, it's not my better judgment about that, it's more..” she made a knowing smirk only a mother could have. “Those two just seemed like they needed some time together.” she was coy…too coy! Coy enough to reinvent the lost art of sushi!

“Alone time together?” I questioned “But they hate each other.”

“Is that what you think? Then why do they hang out together?” that smirk wasn't fading, she wasn’t telling me something and I was almost willing to kill a mare to figure it out! Not this mare obviously…yet.

“I dunno..” I shrugged. “Cause he feels like he’s responsible for her for some reason? I mean they argue ALL the time, I think being here with you is the longest I've ever seen them go without arguing.”

“Like a married couple?”

“Exactly!”

Button’s mom sighed. “Oh if only I was that age again.” she gazed off into the distance about to disappear down memory lane if I didn't interrupt.

I blinked. “What?...why? You’re immort- uhh… Looking great for your age. What are you? 28?” Deflective compliment! Nice!

How deep were this ancient mare’s smuggium stockpiles? That smirk! “You’ve never had a coltfriend have you?”

My lungs bailed out and I broke into a cough. “What?! I- no, I… that's a REALLY personal question to be asking random college kids ya’ know.” I looked around struggling to look at the mare. “I-I’ve had a colt friend…several… tons of colt friends! I’m a 12-speed village bicycle! A mare-eater I say!” I stamped a hoof, showing dominance atop my pile of verbal horseapples.

“Uh-huh, and I’m a dollar store alicorn.” that smirk bored into my soul. “You can look and touch, just don't break anything in my son’s room alright?” she started making her way back towards the stairs. “Oh and you know the phrase blind as a bat? Well, the local bat population is both blind and deaf so they crash into the walls of the house a lot. If you hear tons of thumping late into the night it's the ‘bats’.”

“She emphasized the bats for some reason… must be some real fatass bats.” I thought aloud and went up the stairs to the attic. The door opened with a long drawn-out creak befitting a horror movie, so before I could get murdered by pre-war attic clowns I pointed my pip-light inside.

Twas a long triangular room minus the more vertical wall segments that only came up to head height before tapering off. The room had a large circular window with a curtain, and the rest could best be described as a mare-lair/cave. A large bed was drawing me towards it sure, but it also had a desk, a functioning terminal, a large in-tact TV in the back, bean bag chairs, cosmic rugs, and some kind of workbench. The walls were plastered with endless posters about video games I’d heard of, others my brain said were bands, and the rest…my personal favorite…lots of scantily clad mares surrounded by letters I couldn’t read.

My pipbuck pinged and read ‘Foreign language detected. Activating subtitles: Neighponese.’

“Neighpon? Like… the war ally Neighpon? Somehow not part of the goddesses Equestria Neighpon? Ninja pony comic Neighpon?!”

“Yes,” the screen answered before closing back to the home menu.

Clearly, Button-mash was a stallion of culture. Though I don't recall reading anything about everypony in Neighpon being a mare like these posters would imply. At the bottom of my vision, little green words appeared whenever I looked at the foreign lettering. Things like. ‘BattleMare: Gundam Blitz-4.5’ or ‘Waltz of the Spring Leaves’ and one just called ‘Chlorine.’

“Huh… There's no way a mare that cute is kicking that giant robot’s ass with a skirt that short and a rainbow staff… unless it's magical… yeah is probably magical.” I scratched my chin pondering the oldest of literary solutions to all problems. ‘Magic’. “What else does this Button-Mash guy got in here?”

At the terminal desk the screen was left flashing on ‘Password:’ and and probably been the only light up here for centuries. There was only one thing to do! I reached forward and pressed the keys one at a time. “P.a.s.s.w.o.r.d….” and pressed enter.

‘Denied. You have 3 attempt(s) remaining’

“Damn it.” I squinted and yawned. “Curiosity is standing between me and finally sleeping in a real bed…Grrr..” I attempted a new password. “M….o…M…..enter!” I slapped the enter key.

‘Denied. You have 2 attempt(s) remaining’

“This… this is why I should have harassed Ice-Pick into showing me how to do this stuff. I’d have given him access to some of my premium drawings if I’d known I'd need it one day!” I groaned feeling the siren call of sleep pulling on my eyes. “Sleep…is for the weak!”

He had to have the password somewhere! Nine times out of the 10 the password or key is always in the same room as the lock. His desk was covered in folders and binders packed with browned papers curling at the edges. Skimming the contents it was all a bunch of stuff about computers, programming, and server networks. Setting those aside I went through the other items. ‘An ‘C@FF1N3’’ mug… a box of ancient tissues… empty lotion bottle.. and- The hell is this?” Nearly buried behind the terminal in papers was a small figurine. The hunk of plastic depicted a really cute unicorn with a purple/pink striped mane singing into a mic. “You look familiar….”

I squinted at the statuette and looked down at the simple black base it stood upon and read the words aloud. “Sweetie Belle…” both in bold printed letters and smaller signed print on the underside. “Holy horseapples he had a signed miniature of Saint Rarity’s sister!?” I held the figurine aloft between my forehooves, it was spotless! Neither hide nor hair showed any damage. The ravages of time had not reached the figure of one so divinely adjacent. “I so gotta show this to Dad later! This is like… the closest thing to a holy relic I've ever laid my hooves on.”

There was this nagging feeling though, clamoring over the spector of sleep trying to get to the forefront of my mind. “Oh right. This is her son’s stuff…”I brought the figurine down from on high and looked it over, marveling at its perfection. Odds were this ‘Button-Mash’ has been dead as a doornail for over two hundred years, nopony would miss it, and it would go perfectly in Dad’s chapel! One step closer to the goddesses!… but… it was her son’s figurine. She probably didn't even know it as here, I mean technically…

‘I vow to be generous…’

Twas like a whisper in my ear sending a shiver down my mane, but when I snapped to see the source nopony was there but the bed tempted me. The tiny princesses laid out like puppets with the strings cut making over exaggerated silent snores.

“You’re right creepy voice in my head… I vowed to be generous. Guess that means I can’t take this figurine unless Button’s mom says I can.” Oh, the irony this was the sister of generosity. One of the founders of Stable-Tec, she's one of the reasons I'm alive right now, she probably even designed the suit I’m wearing right now… The sister of generosity. The aspect of ‘Good intentions.’

I put her down in front of the keyboard. “I’ll at least ask first. That's the least I can do right?” I looked back at the terminal though. “S.W.E.E.T.I.E space B.E.L.L.E..enter!”

‘Denied. You have 1 attempt(s) remaining’

“Mare fucker!!” I slammed a hoof on the desk rattling the idol. Sighing vented the frustration and let myself slump. If I get the password wrong again the computer will lock up, and I refuse to repeat the terminal incident of 7th grade! Who locks a terminal intended for public education anyway?!

My gaze fell upon the bed and the specter of sleep clawed its way from my muzzle in the form of a yawn, basking in its freedom before I closed my mouth and smacked my lips. “Yep.. bedtime.” I went over to the bed and gave it the tried and true once-over. Check under the sheets, clean. Check under the mattress, nothing, not even mold. Check under the bed…just old horseshoe boxes and an ideal lack of monsters.

It was like the bed reached out to me with invisible tendrils pulling me into the sweet embrace of a mattress four times thicker than mine back home. “I have…” I yawned louder. “A score to settle with Luna. And you my fair bed.. Shall be my battleship.” I passed a hoof over the plush sheets, stood on my hinds, closed my eyes, stretched my forelegs wide, and fell forward. Flopping right into the bed and- Zzz….

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Bloody mess (rank 2)

-Ever wanted to see a pony explode into chunky salsa? Reduce a raider to Swiss cheese? Explode a ghoul into jerky? Of course, you have! Cause for some reason it just keeps happening! Have another +5% to all damage.

Chapter 11: Dreams (2/2)

The morning-

“Breakfast is readyyy!~” -Hit me upside the head like a brick when somepony’s mom flung open the attic door.

I groaned as hard and loud as my barely conscious self was able. “It's too earlyyyy…” I whined rolling away from the source of the noise. An entire night of getting my ass handed to me by the dream goddess left me physically refreshed, but mentally exhausted. I almost managed to hit her too.

“The power may still be out but my sundial says it's ten AM. I’ve let you and your friends sleep plenty late. Plus you’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”

“But Sweeeepyyy…” I whined louder pulling the pillow over my head, weakly kicking at the blanket over me like it would conjure more blankets to bury me.

Button's mom sighed. “You’re just like my son. I’ll give you five minutes to roll down the stairs with the rest of your friends, but if you fall back asleep I can and will drag you out of that bed~” by the goddesses, Is this what moms do?!

“Okay, you win.” I groaned sitting up and feeling so many different pops I wondered if I suddenly got old. “Why’s Button’s got such a nice bed anyways? This is like..” I sleepy blinked down at the green sheets. “The biggest…softest bed I’ve ever been in.”

Cream Heart giggled a bit. “You should see the one my husband and I got for our room. They were on sale when we hit them with the military discount, they were practically free. I’ll have Button’s show you where the store is after we pick him up.”

She departed down the stairs leaving me the suffer from the beams of sunlight peeking around the curtains. After much pain, suffering, and dragging myself out of bed I rolled down the stairs.

Literally. “Ah- Shit! Fu- aghh! Ahh Mare fu- mother- Ah, Ow! Ow! Ow! Sweet bucking Luna- ahh!” I hit the bottom of the staircase as a crumpled pile of Sketchy. “Owwwww…” I twitched. On the bright side, I was awake.

“That first step’s a doozie sweetie, be careful~” Called Button’s mom from the door to her backyard where from my ass-over-head position I could see her handling a frying pan over a small fire.

My day just started and I was already done with it, I was prepared to lay here until tomorrow came along to make it go away.

I heard hooves on the steps above me. “I know it's fall Sketchy but… ehh too easy.” Lucy sighed as she stepped over me and made her way to the kitchen table. She walked with a slight limp and severe bedhead. That or the fall gave me a concussion.

“You uhh…need help?” Moonstone asked from the steps above, his gear ready, looking pristine as always.

“No…” I groaned finally flopping onto my side and rolling myself upright feeling my back pop. “Owww…”

Moonstone stepped by me. “You sure? After a fall like that and all the crunchy sounds you’re giving off I'd want somepony to carry me to Tenpony Tower on a stretcher.”

“I’m good..” I answered watching Button’s mom slide Lucy a chipped tea cup with a doting smile and headpat. “What about Lucy? Why’s she limping?”

With a brief cough, she answered. “Oh don’t worry about me dear, I just… rolled my ankle getting out of the bed is all. Too used to cots and sleeping bags you see.” she nodded assuredly continuing to drink the provided tea.

“Yeah, I can see it.” I plopped myself at the table with a yawn, taking off my glasses to wipe a smudge off on the table cloth “How’d you guys sleep? That thumping was pretty loud right?”

I did not expect Lucy’s answer to this question to be hot tea getting spewed in my face from across the table. “What?!”

“My eyes!!” I flailed falling from my seat and holding my face. It was all over my glasses, my mane, and most painfully- “You sprayed it in my eyes! Why!?” I rolled in ocular agony. It smelled good but it stung like hell.

Moonstone was quick to pass me a old napkin to rub my eyes but a very blurry Lucy had her forehooves on the table. “What thumping? What are you talking about?!” Sounding so defensive.

“From the bats!” I answered rubbing my eyes and getting my wet glasses back. “All those fat blind deaf bat things that kept slamming into the house walls all night!”

“We didn’t hear any..” Lucy started.

“Yeah cause you two argue so goddess damn loud you could wake the dead!” My vision cleared up at least but my glasses still dripped with translucent brown.

Moonstone answered this time. “O-Oh you mean those bats! Right right uhh... Yeah, they were keeping us up all night, but we uhh... Ahem.” he coughed into a hoof and leaned in a bit. “Best not mention the ‘thumping’ around Lucy. It’s a uhh… sensitive topic for the Enclave. Something to do with ermm… Rad-Eagles and some kind of historical military blunder.” he lifted his head away. “I-Isn’t that right Lucy? Always remember the rad-eagle incident right?” he smiled…or at least I think it was a smile.

“Right… The rad eagles. Such a terrible terrible incident for the entire Enclave.” Lucy nodded along. “We can still hear the ‘thumping’ of the beaks against the hulls. Many brave pegasai…died…horribly.”

As horrible as that is for them why didn't anypony tell me the Enclave was so sensitive about its history? “My eyes hurt…”

“Apologies..” Lucy apologized for once in her life and quickly finished off what little remained of her tea.

“Who’s hungry?” chimed Button’s mom as she came in through the backdoor frying pan handle between her teeth.

Breakfast was about as pan-seared, fried, and toasted as one could get with a campfire. Apple slices, canned fruit, Toast, carrots, scrambled eggs, and 4 different kinds of jelly. I didn't even know jelly came in any flavor but apple! It was the widest range of food groups I'd seen in one place since I left the stable. I'd never had eggs before, but it was just like the meat, all soft, gooey, and warm… and violently having pre-war ketchup packets put on it!

In the brief moments I wasn’t stuffing my face like a starved radroach I got glimpses out the kitchen window into the back yard. Cream Heart had a whole garden back there, greenery! The fenced-off area filled with rows of bushes, sprouts, flowers, and herbs.

I'd have to harass her about growing stuff in the wasteland if the survival guide didn't already have a section about it. There’s a distinct lack of tatos in her garden though.

“So how is it? It's been a while since I’ve had to cook for anypony but Buttons.” Cream-Heart asked looking over the table of happy lil ponies gobbling breakfast.

“Ish great!” I said between a mouthful of eggs.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full dear. Ponies still have manners.” Lucy scolded much to my well-earned squint and desire to stab a pega with a fork.

“It's very nice Mrs Heart.” Moonstone nodded being ever the bastion of civility.

“Glad to hear it. Now I know you kids have very active social lives and need to get ready for that party you mentioned. But could I ask you a favor?” She suggested with a faintly awkward pleading smile.

“What uhh... What kind of favor?” Moonstone asked being the only pony without eggs in his mouth. My eyes looked between the two as they talked.

Looking a little more hopeful. “Oh nothing much, I figured since it was Saturday you might be able to help me pick buttons up from his roleplaying thing. Aaand maybe help pull my autowagon to the shop?”

Lucy side-eyed a little. “Wasn’t yesterday Saturday- Oof!” The table rattled as a certain mare got kicked in the shins by a bigger male-er pony.

“Oh uhh..” Moonstone broke out that smile and scratched his mane a bit. “We’d love to help but uhh..” This wasn’t part of his usual script, it wasn't smooth, he was improvising. She hasn’t done this before…

To be fair, She did let us crash here, and fed us… twice! And given I currently had a fork in my mouth I’d been sufficiently bribed to accept just about anything. I looked at Moonstone intensely enough to catch his attention and did little nods at the food, then at Cream-heart, and then squinted at him. Pony sign language at its finest. Mmm..egg…

“We’d…love to help.” he nodded, slipping back into character. “I mean, how else could we repay you for all your lovely cooking and hospitality? How uhh.. How far away is the mechanic?” He asked, ears flattening a bit in trepidation.

“Wonderful, The autoshop is only about a 10-minute drive from here. We can pick Buttons up along the way. You kids finish eating while I go get my purse, I’ll take care of the dishes when we get back.” She hummed making her way up the creaky staircase.

Once out of eyesight, Lucy turned to Moonstone. “Did you seriously just kick me? It’s Sunday isn’t it?!” She protested tapping on her pipbuck. “And what did you just volunteer us for? We were supposed to go to the refugee camp today.”

“Shh!” Moonstone tried to shush her.

“Don’t you shush me. I’m-”

Moonstone cut her off in a loud whisper. “She doesn’t know that! The whole point is that she doesn't know that. I thought you might have caught on by now that she still thinks it’s October 23rd! The day the bombs dropped. Ring any bells miss history major?”

“First off, I said it was a bachelors in art history. Art! Paintings, literature, statues, museums! Not that you’d appreciate the difference you savage! And secondly, You. Kicked. Me!” She pointed.

He facehoofed. “I’ll kick you harder next time you jeopardize my favorite bed and breakfast by correcting the ghoul stuck in a time loop!” he hissed.

I don’t wanna lose this bed and breakfast! I’d kill a mare to keep sleeping in that bed upstairs!...okay maybe not ‘kill’. More beat a mare with a bat… a wiffle bat... For an hour.

The hoofsteps came back down the stairs and everypony got their act back together with pleasant smiles and cheerful youth attitudes. “Everypony ready to go? There’s this ice cream place we can visit while the mechanic works on my autowagon if you're interested.”

Ice cream?! Ice cream is real?! Screw falling down the stairs and getting tea spit in my eyes! This was going to be a great day! I sprang from my seat. “Let’s Gooooo!!”

***

This… was not a great day.

“Hot! Hot! Hoot!!!” I flailed in the backseat of Cream-Heart’s rusted-out autowagon putting the fires on my foreleg out! Repeatedly kicking the giant ant crawling through the back window with my hinds.

Lucy was equally effective in deterring the fire-breathing monster by whacking it with a broomstick. “You just had to say something didn't you?!”

“All I asked was why there weren't any raiders around here!” Patting the fire out I gripped my flintlock from the back-seat floor and aimed at the hissing pony-sized ant. Dodging some flaming dribble, I pulled the trigger and burned a new hole through its head and the roof of the wagon.

Lucy shoved the corpse out the window letting it roll off the trunk, quickly subsumed by the growing swarm of ants following behind us. They were slow, really slow, but still faster than the crawl Moonstone maintained pulling us along. “This miraculous one mile an hour is really great Moonstone, but maybe we could Go faster than the ants?!”

“I’m trying!” Heaved the stallion at the front of the autowagon, pulling the harness with all his might. Moonstone wasn’t faring too well, panting heavily, gritting teeth, and straining to pull the rust bucket along. The 10-minute drive’ had turned into a half-hour slog just to get up a hill!

Then came the ants! “I fucking hate ants! I hate em! Hate! Hate! Hate!!” They started coming out of the ruins about ten minutes ago and it's been a nonstop stream of ‘em ever since. I plowed through spark batteries having to crank my flintlock to capacity just to hurt them. Ducking under gouts of flame between shots and only ever breaking to reload or put myself out again. “Haaaate!!!” I screeched firing aimlessly into the swarm.

Button’s mom was… Less concerned about the ants than we hoped. “That’s that Los Pegasus heat for you, cooking alive in October. Hopefully the line at Spiffy’s (the ice cream place) isn't too long.” She was oblivious to the swarm of fire-breathing ants behind us, and that her autowagon was being repeatedly set on fire.

“Why do neither of you…ughh…have a grenade?” Moonstone panted. His powerful hind legs wobbling from the strain, his mane falling ragged.

“The Enclave doesn't hand out grenades 'cause they aren't replaceable,” Lucy replied whacking one of the smaller ants off the passenger side door with her now-burning broomstick.

“And I’ve never seen one!” I added blowing a hole in another before ducking under another spout of flame washing across the underside of the autowagon’s roof. Good thing the upholstery rotted away centuries ago. Rust can’t burn without aluminum! Woo, chemistry! Another ant tried crawling through the rear driver window next to me. I promptly stuck my flintlock in his mouth and blew and lengthwise hole in him, yelling “Haaate!” as it slumped off the door.

“We're almost to the top of the hill Moonstone. You should be able to take a break once we start coasting down. I’ll feather the breaks so we don't hit anypony.” Cream-Heart smiled.

Lucy was progressively running out of broomstick to beat the ants with. “Why are we even doing this?! This is crazy!”

“Cause it’s the right thing to do!” I protested shooting another ant, unable to appreciate how it exploded into a shower of white ichor and limbs. “Can’t you fly around and distract them?!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way I’m risking getting wing burned by a bunch of bugs! I’d be grounded for weeks!”

“You’re gonna be grounded for life if we don’t get over that hill!” I waved my hooves in exclamation. “This is not the kind of hot I want to be!”

Cream Heart hummed along to whatever song she thought her long-dead radio was playing. “Trust me dear, most mares don't need to worry about being hot. You’re plenty cute as is. Boys love nerdy mares like you. And the glasses? Icing on the cake sweetie~”

I paused while another gout of flame flew above my head. “Huh… that's… the first time I've heard that in a positive context…I don't know how to process this.” I blinked staring at what remained of the back seat. “Huh…”

“Trust me I used to be one. Still am.” She added looking up at her shattered rear-view mirror. “And look at me now? Happily married a nerd and my son is a nerd. Never would have happened if I hadn’t gone to that pong tournament when I was 16… kids these days still play pong right?”

“We- Ahh!” I flailed as flames briefly washed over me and I had to pat them out. This was a BAD time to be having an emotional revelation. There were ants to kill!

“Oh dear did I just age myself? What about Pack-mare? Or Galaxia? Or…oops eyes on the road Cream-heart, You’re not that old yet.” she chuckled to herself while I rolled on the floorboard. Burning!

Doused again I stood. “There’s too many of them to get out and push, but we're almost there.” I could see the hilltop, but the bulk of the ant swarm was getting closer, we just can’t kill them fast enough with one gun.

Lucy looked at her charred stick and bit her lip. “I uhh.. Mmm..” whatever it was she was super hesitant about the idea.

“Spit it out! I’m open to anything at this point!” I flailed beating a small ant with the butt of my flintlock until it fell off.

Lucy gulped. “I have something that’ll help but.. Normally there’s a whole bunch of medical checks for allergies and consent forms and-”

“I don’t care!” I yelled bucking an ant in the chin just in time to kick its fire breath up into the autowagon’s ceiling. “Hot! Hot! Hooot!” I cried pulling my smoking hoof away.

After much hesitation and looking between everypony and the swarm behind us, she relented. “Don't say I didn’t warn you!” Lucy dug around in her saddlebags and pulled a syringe out with her wing.

“What’s tha- Oww!” She jabbed me in the flank and with a little hiss a rush of cold swept over the limb. “Did you just stab me-” The cool sensation rapidly spread over the rest of my body and turned into a sort of warmth. A sweet…sweet euphoria intertwined with an equal and seemingly opposite sensation… RAGE! And I’m gonna tear somepony’s head off! I looked straight at Lucy with an intensity that made her recoil. “Gimmie that!” I barked taking the charred broomstick in my forehooves.

“Ahh!!” I drove the impromptu crispy spear through the nearest ant and proceeded to use the stick as leverage to fling him over the swarm.

The army briefly stopped to watch the yeeted ant’s flight path into the back of the crowd before looking at me again and resuming their march.

“Come and get some!!” I swung the wagon door open bashing the closest ant with it until its face splattered white over the hull and went limp. I felt immortal, like a god!... an angry god~

My chest was thundering, my blood racing, and my horn firing my flintlock as fast as I could crank it, while my hooves kept busy with the spear. A flurry of impaling ants and dodging around flames… and did I mention beating an ant to death with another ant?

I barely had time between the wonton violence and bliss to notice Lucy flying out of the autowagon to push on the roof. She even doubled its speed, a whole 2 miles per hour!

Only mildly on fire, I stabbed another ant! “I hate ants! Haaate!” and I kept stabbing ant after ant. The ones close enough to bite me stung like hell but they were the first to get blown apart by my flintlock. By the time a set of pinion feathers grabbed me and pulled me back in the wagon, I had quite the ant ka-boob going. “Kill! murder! maim! kill! murder! maim!!” I flailed trying to get back out there to continue the slaughter. My flintlock put a few new holes in the roof as I kept firing.

Gravity shifted as a 4th pone joined us in the auto-wagon. Moonstone! Panting in the front passenger seat while the vehicle kept rolling on its own. Everything moving outside the windows gained speed by the second. The ants losing interest now that we were faster than a roided-out snail.

“What's wrong with her?” panted Moonstone looking back over his shoulder at me still flailing and trying to murder the nearest thing with more than 4 legs.

“I…” Lucy was hesitant to say as she did her best to hold me down. “May have given our darling Sketchy here an itty bitty dose of rage.”

“You gave her rage!?” He exclaimed fully turning to face us. “What is wrong with you?!”

“It was an emergency!” Lucy protested. “And she should be coming down any second now.”

My flailing intensified “I'll never come down, For I am a god of war! The ants have insulted me and I shall wear their queen as a bathrobe! I Shall…take note that this god of war is..getting… kinda sweepy…”

“There she goes~ Down from murder heaven already.” Lucy pointed out shaking me a little as I panted…and smoldered from all the fires I put out. “It only lasts about 25 seconds.”

“That’s not the point and you know it!” Moonstone’s voice started to fade away, echoey, and wobbly. He and Lucy’s words melded together and hooves were pointed at each other. I went to blink and…Zzz….

***

“We’re here!” my eyes shot back open at the faintly rasped chime of Cream-Heart’s voice.

I sat back up looking around. “Where?..” I saw Moonstone and Lucy looking rather worried out the passenger side windows.

Across the street from a line of collapsed storefronts, a wide open field lay tucked behind the remains of a fence. Signposts of varying age and literacy gave the same warning, Ghouls. A copious amount of ghouls. A ridiculous amount of strangely armored ghouls shambled about occasionally pairing off to weakly swinging makeshift weapons at each other. “The War fields..danger... Crazies... Ferals.. zombies…” I read some signs aloud. The place was aptly named as among rusted hoofball posts it looked like a battle of the ancient times started here and simply never ended.

“Are you sure buttons is here Mrs Cream Heart?” Moonstone asked looking back to our gracious host.

She nodded. “Certainly, Buttons likes to come out here and play with his friends on the weekend. He usually sets up his little command post on the hill back there.” She pointed. “a ‘daimyo’ must have his height advantage after all.” she air quoted and giggled a bit. “Would one of you be a dear and go fetch him?”

"Why did it have to be the War-Fields…” Moonstone groaned watching the agonizingly slow battle. “Ferals.. So many ferals... And they're all armored too.” he mumbled glaring at the situation.

Lucy glanced around the interior of the cabin. “Don’t look at me... I uh... Just got my hooves done.” She smiled sheepishly. “I'd hate to waste all the parlor's work after all.”

I squinted up at her long and hard before looking back to Button’s mom. “I uhh…”

She still had the gentle motherly smile and did a little ‘get going’ nod with her head non-verbally nudging me along.

“Fiiiine…” I groaned crawling my way out of the wagon. “I’ll go look for him….but if his friends get.. ‘Upset’ “I emphasized looking at Lucy and Moonstone. “Somepony better come save me before they ‘eat me aliiiive.”

“You’ll be fine~” Cream Heart waved. “LARPing has rules about outsiders in the play area. It’s just a big game of pretend for adults. I remember this one time when-” She got engrossed in her own story getting Moonstone to nod along.

Looking for a path AROUND the field of death I took note of the situation. Literal notes… whipping out my archive to get a doodle of this hazard. That was part of my job, right? The scattered mass of ghouls was concentrated in the flat area between two hills littered with debris. Atop the hill his mom pointed at should be Button-mash… or at least his corpse given the countless bones poking out of the grass. None of the ghouls ventured beyond the fence, to the degree that even the ones that could easily see us ignored our presence, but I had a feeling whatever communal brain damage they were suffering gave them the stipulation to never leave the ‘battle’. There were two teams, On the left were ponies wearing leather vests, horned helmets, and scrappy axes… on the right, Button’s side, were ponies wearing some kind of armor made of small woven plates, flared helmets made of colanders, and swinging rusty curved swords in their mouths. Kinda like the Neighpon posters in Button’s Room.

“Okay..” I snapped the book shut. “I get the feeling if I just charge in there I’ll get eaten alive… and as appetizing as Sketchy jerky sounds, I want to live. Especially for that ice cream... I just gotta find Button-Mash… In there… with all the death… where he’s probably dead. And I have no idea how his mom is gonna take that…shit..” my heart wavered. Why did I let us get looped into this? Cream Heart is already so mentally broken she’d probably snap if we said her son died 200 years ago. I looked at the field, then back at the car, then the field. “Oh, Buuuuck meee! Please be alllive!!” I whined to the heavens and trotted forth.

Fortunately, two tiny princesses in ninja costumes pointed off to the side of the field gaving me an idea. “I can… just go around?” The tiny princesses nodded with beaming smiles. Pointing energetically towards the back of the hill where there weren’t any ghouls. “You tiny geniuses! That’s perfect! I’ll just sneak up the back!”

“Please be alive, please be alive, please be aliiiive…” I repeated below my breath as I took a page from the great book of B-Rad! Skitter in the grass! My patent pending rad-roach skitter kept me low in the grass so my head was just barely out of view. From above I probably looked like an orange dot wandering her way across a waving canvas of amber grain… err..grass.

Crunch~!

I froze with a meep as a bone crunched under my hoof. I looked down to see countless bones tangled in the grass. How many ponies died here over the centuries I may never know… but I’ll be damned if I’m going to end up like these ponies scattered to the winds with… teeth... Marks. Fuuuuuu-

The crunch had drawn the attention of some of the battling ghouls near the edge of the horde. With a rusty colander on his head, a broken blade poking out his shoulder, and half his face peeled off, he scanned for me. He barked, gurgled, and growled looking around, sniffing at the air with his missing nose.

‘Maybe If I held perfectly still… he won’t come over here?’ I thought watching, waiting, and panicking when he started trudging over. I was gonna get spotted, and then eaten alive! And then eaten unalive! Would I come back as a ghoul? Is that how zombies work?! Panic!

He only got a few steps before my gray ass was saved. Another ghoul. One of the horned helmet ones, sensing weakness, had trudged and weakly konked the previous ghoul over the head with her axe barely rasping the word. “Point~”

I blinked In disbelief as the other ghoul turned and rasped. “Honorless… curr…” before struggling to swing his sword… handle.

‘I’m safe? I’m saved? Thank the bucking goddesses probably watching over me right now with B-Rad!’

There was no time to lose! I skittered ahead careful-er this time, tippy-hoofing around the bones. The back of the hill was unguarded, or at least the ‘guards’ died long..LONG ago if the scattered gear was any testament.

Atop the hill were the long-rotted remains of tents, and wooden fortifications. Wispy remains of flags and banners waved like ghosts in the wasteland breeze. Barricades, embankments, crates, and even the remains of a tower had all succumbed to the all-powerful decay of time. Still, I wasn't truly alone up here, next to a table buried in faded papers, and sunbleached figurines was a pony looking over the ‘battle’. But not just any pone, one clad head to hoof in battered black lacquered lamellar highlighted with blues and golds. A much more refined version of the foot-soldiers colander helms, with a great golden crest atop the forehead resembling an ornate ‘A’.

A voice, powerful and deep, scarred by 200 years of undeath broke the silence. “It has been ages since a worthy challenger braved my fortifications to face me. Do you believe yourself strong enough? Worthy enough to defeat the general of your sworn rivals? Many have tried, many more have failed, and all were sent home to herald the lamentations of their mares! For I am undefeated! For I am great! For I am-”

Just as was about to turn around one of the soldier ghouls ran onto the scene yelling. “General! An interloper was spotted sneaking around back-”

“AHH!!” I screamed, not squealed like a filly, screamed! Anypony who says otherwise is a liar! I’d been so engrossed in the general’s dramatic entrance that I didn’t notice the one running up the hill. One flick of the TK and my flintlock blew a booming hole clean through the new ghoul. I’d be amazed I hit him from over 10 feet away if I wasn’t still screaming.

The new ghoul looked down at the hole carved in her torso before she gave one last bloody gasp. “P-point…” and collapsed.

There was a long pause between me and the general looking at the slain ghoul messenger… not to mention the whole battlefield was now looking up at the hill in silence having paused the fight.

What could I do, what could I say, do I just start running? This other ghoul seemed far more dangerous and coherent than the rest. What were the rules?! Nopony ever invited me to board games as a kid! “Uhhhh…” I looked around the scene a bit more. “Game?”

[Success!] Suddenly in a voice far less deep, passionate, and powerful than his intro speech. “Awww shit really? But the battle was just getting goood!” he whined pointing a hoof out over the battlefield. “If I’d known their score was rising that fast I’d have sent my dragon cavalry in ages ago!” he huffed quickly looking me over. “And why didn’t that jackass Buttershoe tell me we were allowing time traveler rules?! That’s bucking unfair and she knows it!”

I blinked just trying to absorb what I just heard. Sweet Celestia, they were still playing the game!? “Whaaaa….”

In the meantime, the general went back to where he was standing, picked up a traffic cone with a handle, and yelled. “Hey asshole!”

The whole battle looked over at him, while on the opposite hill another shambling yellow uni-ghoul with glittering golden shoes and a helmet with cartoonishly large horns picked up a matching cone. “What is it now General dick-igawa?”

“Firstly it's General Ponigawa you uncultured swine! And secondly, Did you really try gaming the time traveler and assassin rules again?!” He yelled back pointing at me.

“I don’t know who that is! I thought she was one of yours. If I’d known we were using the time traveler rules I'd have brought my techno-vikings!” she replied while the horde looked to and fro.

“What do you mean you don’t know who she is?! She’s not one of mine! And-” he looked back at me still speaking through the improvised megaphone. “Who are you with?”

I held my ears before swiping the cone from him and yelling back. “I’m not with anypony! I’ve never even been here before! Button’s mom sent me here to pick him up and I’ve had a long day! So tell me where he is before I shove this cone up somepony’s ass!”

“Ahh geez, no need to yell. I’m right here.” the general winced. With all the slow motion I can describe for a grand reveal, he removed his helmet to rub his ears. A brownish stallion with a caramel orange mane and puff of beard on his chin. I’d have guessed he was around my age if it wasn’t for the ghoulification. Patches of missing coat and exposed muscle here and there, but he was about as well preserved as- “You said my mom sent you?”

I dropped the cone “Celestia’s titanic tits you’re alive..”

“Corse Im alive, What did you think, I got hit by an autowagon?” he rolled his eyes.

Hit by a balefire bomb more like it. “With how long it took to find you?...yes.” I squinted. “Your mom told me to come get you. She’s waiting, I’m waiting, were all waiting.” I pointed down at the edge of the field where our auto-wagon was waiting. Lucy and Moonstone hiding behind the doors.

“Who the fuck is she?!” called again from the other hill.

“Shit uhh.. “ he took the cone back. ‘My uhh.. Cousin! Yeah, I’m gonna have to call the game here guys. I got.. Family crap to go do my mom didn’t tell me about. You know how it is.”

“So you surrender?” the Viking pony leader called back.

“Buck no! The great Ponigawa never surrenders, We’ll call it a draw for now and-”

A new voice joined the cone power foray. “Button-Mash!”

“Ahh shit…” Button’s slightly decayed ears went flat.

Button’s mom had a cone of her own and was standing by the fence. “Don’t act like I can’t see you arguing with your friends up there! You have a job interview to prep for, so say goodbye to all your friends, and let’s go!”

“But Moooooom!!” he cried back.

“No buts! I said now, mister! Or I can, and will make you shave that ridiculous beard for the interview!”

“But I like my beard…” he dejected before picking the cone back up. “Fine Moom! I’ll be right down. Everpony else just…” he sighed. “Give Tally-Ticker your point totals and we’ll resume next week. Cool?”

The horde nodded along and gave a mix of ‘uh-huh’s, ‘yeah sure’s, and raspy eldritch screeches.

“Cool.” he groaned tossing the cone away. “Well, this sucks. Let's go before the jokes start.”

I watched the crowd of ghouls disperse, walking, crawling, and dragging their way off the field. Pushing over rusted fences and flimsy barricades wastelanders put up. I got the feeling none of them were grasping reality yet, and I didn’t want to be here when they did.

But as fate would have it, the trip down the hill was not a quiet one. Not in a ‘slaughtering our way through a horde of ferals to be deus-ex machina’d when all hope is lost’ kind of situation, but a more sass-blasting one. “Awww did your mommy come to pick you up?” The Viking leader jabbed from her hill fort earning a few chuckles from the ghoul horde. “Good thing too, She can kiss your booboo’s better after the ass beating I was giving you!”

“Wow… she's a bitch.” I commented with my non-cone-powered voice.

This was going to be a battle of egos 200 years in the making. One fought with improvised megaphones across a field full of Live Action Roleplayers. Button-mash pulled a 2nd cone from his belt. “Fuck you too Buttershoe! My cavalry was so far up your ass with that bull-horn flank they could have used you like a sock puppet!”

“You wish they were up my ass loser! Your cavalry is shit, and you cant lead armies for shit dick-igawa! My victory was assured before we even started.”

Assured my ass…it was a 200-year-long stalemate!

“You sacrificed half your infantry for 10 feet of ground!” Button’s retorted.

“That was a necessary sacrifice to put you in your place momma’s boy! That place being under me, an inferior, with your mom making me those cookies she brought last week.” she self-assured.

“I will never kneel to the likes of you Buttershoe!” He shook a hoof at her. “And next time my mom brings cookies you don't get one!”

“Hey that’s not fair! She makes those for everypony!”

“That's what you get for bein’ a bitch!”

“Buttons!” His mom exclaimed “Be nice to your friends! Those cookies I make are for everypony.”

“Sorry mom…” Button’s groaned as the remaining ghoul soldiers muttered in agreement.

Buttershoe on the other hoof refused to be anything but the victor. “And now she's fighting your battles for you? Grow a spine, you overgrown toddler!”

Buttons was about to retort but his mom came to bat… the metal bat. “I don’t fight his battles for him. I do things like make cookies and go to the grocery store. Where I run into ponies like your father, buying your rash cream and off-brand horseshoes.”

Holy horseapples she just threw that mare under a bus!

Buttons blinked as a comeback twinkled in his eyes. “Ha! Butthurt and your Hays are fake!” And her son just put that bus in reverse to run her over again!

Buttershoe did a doubletake looking down at her hooves golden horseshoes. “M-My Hays are not fake!”

“Totally fake! Knew you couldn’t actually afford a set! Miss government housing!” beating a mare while she’s down! Causing a stir among the other ghouls struggling to laugh.

“You’re a dick! They’re real!”

“A massive swinging one thank you! Now Imma go home and get free cookies, 'cause my mom’s cool like that!” He threw the second cone and we made our way back to the shell of an autowagon. Hopping into the passenger seat with a smug. “Fuck yeah!” as he started getting out of his gear. “Way to go mom, they’ll be giving her shit for weeks now.”

His mom smiled in the driver's seat. “Serves her right for being mean to my little boy~” she chuckled giving the ghoul general a brief hug.

Lucy was in the backseat with me like before. “Isn’t your son like… a grown stallion?” She asked raising a brow.

“Yes, But he’ll always be my little boy. The same way you two will always be your dad’s little fillies,” she answered before looking out front to Moonstone getting back in the reins, anxiously looking around at all the ghoul army shambling by. “Moonstone dear, Ready to go?”

“Y-yeah…” He answered leaning back a little as one of the Viking ghouls passed in biting distance moaning about a bus pass. “Ready when you are.”

Button-Mash took a moment to look at us once the wagon got rolling at its neck breaking 1 mph. “Hey mom… who are these guys?”

“Some friends of yours from the University who volunteered to help pull the autowagon to the shop.” she nodded adjusting her broken mirrors.

“Oh…” he muttered confusedly. “Cool… I just… never mind.” He blinked and started taking in his surroundings, from the interior of the wagon to the ruins nearby. “Meadow Street looks like it’s gone to shit…”

The facade was cracking. Button-mash had a mental loop just like his mom, but his perceptiveness would be it’s undoing. Two centuries of reliving the same Saturday LARP battle unaware the world had ended. It had me on edge almost as much as all the other ghouls who started breaking down around us. The soldiers were borderline feral to begin with and many started looking around confused, some even started to growl and lash out at their surroundings. “Lucy… get out and push.”

“But were-”

“I said push!” I glared giving a quick nod to the distant ghouls starting mauling a skeleton on the sidewalk.

Her eyes widened, and she did a quick take of the surrounding mass of ghouls growing agitated. “Good point Darling! Three times the ponies three times the speed.” She chuckled nervously frantically getting out of the wagon to push the door. “This was a terrible idea!” she protested below her breath.

We got the Hell out of there before the screeching started. My legs strained on the ancient asphalt and rusted bearings. The further we got from the war fields the better. Three streets, four, a block, five. Only the wind and faded screams of crashing reality could be heard behind us. Cries for parents, brothers, and sisters. Panic over being late for livelihoods long gone. The horror of their new wasteland reality. Hunger. Only this morning had they been dropped off to roleplay a battle between Viking ponies and Neighpon samurai. By the end of that morning 200 years had passed and everything they loved was gone. I dare not envy their immortality. The only question that remained… how long before Buttons and his mom finally cracked? And how badly?

Our two ghouls just took it all in, their loop struggling to connect with each new stimulus. “Hey, Mom… did a riot come through here? The stores are looking kinda… fucked.” Button-mash commented looking at the line of collapsed duplexed and ruined storefronts. Every ground-floor window was broken, papers littered the street, and signs hung from the storefronts in varying starts of disrepair.

Cream-heart looked too like she finally noticed. “Huh, must have been last night sweetie. I didn’t see anything on the news this morning about another food riot though. Ponies these days I swear…Hope they recover.” She’d already forgotten the power was out at her house.

The gang grew tense, and the moment of truth was fast approaching. It was like having ticking time bombs in the wagon. I could feel it, the facade breaking down just like the soldier ghouls. Would they turn feral? Go mad? How would we stop them if they attacked us?! I was the only one with a gun! Lucy had a stick…not even a pointy stick, just a stick! And Moonstone was too tied up in the harness to fight back if they decide to take a bite out of his ass.

“Ehh, oh well. I didn’t shop around her anyways.” Button-Mash shrugged explaining away the mess. “Oh oh! Hey Mom, isn't that ice cream place right around the corner?”

‘SHIT!!’ we non-ghouls swore internally.

His mom smiled. “Sure is honey, right around the corner. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for you, but we’re going there once we drop off the wagon.”

“Ice cream!” He cheered throwing his hooves up in the air like a colt half his age.” Kick ass!” he hoof pummped. “Gonna get that vanilla Sunday, drown it in hot fudge and-”

“You know you can just get the fudge ice cream right? Sweetie-Belle isn’t here to see you fall out of the chair from a brain freeze again~”

“Mooooom!! Seriously?! Don't talk about her in front of my freeeehh…. ” He trailed off, his ghoul eyes widening as he looked out the passenger side window. “What… what happened to it?” His voice wobbled.

‘Spiffy Cone’s Ice-Cream Parlor’ Read the sign below a colossal plaster ice cream cone with a faded derpy face on it. The building was a lot like those diners history class said used to be everywhere but more or less collapsed. A singular aluminum panel kitchen at the center surrounded by a copious amount of awnings, benches, and tables for open-air eating. Though all but one of the awnings had fallen over crushing everything..and everypony below. Under the twisted wreckage of roof and panels, blackened skeletons lay about. Some big, many small, and a few even smaller. Toys, strollers, bottles, and roller skates… all strewn about among the ruin.

“I…” buttons gulped. “I can't believe ponies would do this to Spiffy’s…a-and kids! Why are there kids in the wreck Mom?!” he started to panic.

Awful as it was, the best-case scenario was a ‘harmless’ mental breakdown. Every other case I had in mind kept me ready to grab my flintlock. Was I going to have to kill them? I didn't want to!

“I don’t know Buttons. Maybe it was a zebra attack. The royal guards should be handling this already, but where are… they… oh my.” Cream Heart gasped looking across the street to see the auto-wagon shop was in equally bad shape with a single overalls-wearing skeleton laying limp through a broken window. “Is that… Mr Springwell? I just saw him yesterday, what's going on?!

It all came crashing down, the two-hundred-year loop that chained them to sanity shattered, spilling from their eyes in the form of tears. I didn’t know ghouls could cry.

“Wh-who are you guys anyways?” He asked looking at us in his growing panic. “I-I don't recognize any of you from the university. And why are you in one of Sweetie-Belle’s stable suits? Nopony’s supposed to have those yet!”

I responded the best way I could, the most honest we’ve ever been with them since meeting his mom. “That’s because.. I am from a stable. 83 specificaly.. Behind Pinkie’s house.”

“Sketchy..” Moonstone cautioned looking back over his shoulder.

With a steady heart, I continued as gently as I could. “You two have been… out of it for a while. A long while. Welcome to Equestria.. circa 1220.”

“There’s no way that’s.. That's possible! Mom… Please tell me she’s crazy… I still have that interview at Stable TEC right?!” Button Mash quivered, taking in his first true view of the wasteland around him. The ravaged skyline of Applewood, The devastation of all he’s ever known, and the loss of everything he ever hoped for.

His mother looked ahead too, as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t think you do dear… I don’t think you have classes anymore either.”

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Radroach Skitter!
-Prerequisite: Wasteland whisperer: Radroach.
-Your affinity for radroaches has enabled you to master the Radroach skitter. Every bullet/explosion/ or laser that hits you or passes within 10ft of you will raise movement speed by 5%(max 100%) for 6 seconds.

Achievement perk Unlocked: Ants for the Ant god! (rank 1)
Requirements: Kill 50 ants in a combat where Rage or Stampede was used.
-You have slain many ants and bathed in their ichor. Deal +5 damage to any ant you hit per rank of this perk.

Chapter 12: Hotel Coltifornia (1/2)

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 12: Hotel Coltifornia

I do not envy the undead, the dead I do on occasion, but never the undead. By a quirk of fate, genetics, or even the capricious whims of magic you are granted immortality. You never need to eat, drink, rest, or grow old… but at a cost. Your body, the vessel of your soul, rots away leaving you but a corpse of your former self. Stuck in a perpetual state of half-decay where everything not deemed vital to life falls away in time. Some more, some less. You can bleed, but your senses are dull, you can think, but your mind fades, and in the end... Nothing is left but the shell of a pony, an animal, slavering to fill the void. Never face immortality alone.

Returning to the cul-de-sac was far easier than getting there. The grand illusion finally shattered, leaving the husk of Cream-Heart’s auto wagon behind once she could finally see its true condition. We assured her we’d come back for it later as we walked. Turns out that freeing the ghouls from the Warfields had an unexpected side effect, the ants were distracted. We stayed a couple of blocks south of the suspected nest just to be safe, catching glimpses of flaming ghouls and skittering ants down the streets at intersections.

Buttons and his Mom were in shock to say the least. Culture shock, Septic shock, neurogenic shock… some kind of shock appropriate to learning how much their world changed. We did our best to console and answer questions, but there was a surprising number of things none of us could answer.

“Who launched the mega spells first?”

“Why did we turn into…this?”

“What about the rest of the world?”

“What happened to the princesses?”

“Did we win?...”

The only real answers we had for them were “We don’t know.” and “Nopony knows.” Well… except for that last one.

I looked back past my half-dozen-ant skewer balanced between me and Moonstone. “Does it look like anypony won?”

“I…no…” Button-mash withdrew. “Better wiped that striped huh?...” He clung to that casual humorous tone like a life raft in the face of his shaken reality. I could tell because I do it too. Is this what Pickle-Jar feels like?

“Buttons, that's in really poor taste.” his mom scolded walking alongside him. “I told you to stop quoting those racist posters Rarity made.”

“I know I know, we’re fighting their government, not the zebra’s themselves. But you gotta admit Mom. I’m seeing an awfu lot of wipe and not a lot of stripe.” he gestured at the surrounding devastation.

“Button-Mash!”

“Raceist sure, but your son’s not wrong.” Moonstone added now looking back too. “Given the distinct lack of zebras running around, it’s rather safe to assume they lost too. At least that’s the theory we had at the Academy.”

I squinted a bit. “What is this Academy you keep mentioning?”

Moonstone rose a brow “I’m from there… Not the most well-known place in the wasteland.”

“Okay but what IS it?” I questioned. “With everything I’ve learned about wasteland naming conventions, I can only assume it's on ‘Academy’ drive, or ‘Aloe-Bean’s Academy of Massage’ but three-quarters of the sign got shot off.”

“It's a school.. Technically.” he rolled his eyes a bit. “About halfway between here and the western edge of the NCR. Near the base of the mountains.”

Button-Mash raised a hoof “Was anypony else assuming the Academy was LP University?” he asked looking around the group.

“Yes…” I groaned.

“It’s nothing nearly that grand dear.” Lucy finally chimed in. “The Academy is just a glorified mercenary school according to Enclave intel. A ruin packed with sellswords and murderers for hire.”

“A lot more than what you have right now…” Moonstone mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Lucy looked back.

“I saaaid, its a lot more than you give it credit for.”

“Doubt it~” she quipped prancing along humming a trail of superiority complex in her wake.

Button Mash smirked in the back. “Way to pick ‘em my guy~ I prefer Sweetie-Belles over Raritys myself but to each their-” Button Mash chuckled only to catch his mom’s elbow in the side. “OW! What?!”

“Don’t be rude! These ponies are helping us to get home after risking their lives to save you. Apologize to the nice stallion.” I didn’t really get what was so rude about it. Sure, Lucy acted like the saint of generosity, but that’s not really a reason to refuse helping her get home is it?

“But Mooom, Even if I wasn't 200 years older than him this is still how we talk to eachother-”

“I said apologize.” She glared and asserted her almighty mom powers over the college-age ghoul next to her.

He relented with a sigh. “Fiiine. I’m sorry.”

“Like you mean it…”

Buttons groaned rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry for taking a jab at your life choices. Please continue teaching us all about this wonderful HELLHOLE Equestria has become.”

“Well uhh..” Moonstone taped his chin “ Violence, gangs, and chems are normal now. Every day outside a settlement is a risk of life and limb. It’s a fair bit better than it used to be but there's still plenty of ponies out here trying to rob you or bite your face off.”

“So… an average Tuesday in Applewood then?” Buttons asked sounding a bit confused.

“An average day!?” I jumped in. “What part of post-apocalyptic wasteland are you missing? The radiation? The mutants? How everything is destroyed?”

“Ehh… not really. Most of the streets already looked like this before.” he gestured at the cracked and trash-covered streets littered with broken glass and bones. “The ants are new though.”

“Wha… how.. What was-?...” No amount of hoof gestures and facial expressions could describe my bafflement at the idea that the balefire holocaust didn't change anything.

“Okay, maybe not this bad..” Buttons added as the team carefully climbed over the rubble of an office building “But pretty close. On the bright side, no traffic! or smog, or food riots… Do angry mobs still form whenever royal guards beat a zebra to death? Or was that just an us thing?”

I just looked back and answered with my own question. “What the actual fuck!?” whilst firing a beam through a flaming ghoul that just ran out into the street ahead. Ghoul pieces everywhere.

***

If there’s one thing I knew would bring the mother and son some relief, it was getting home. Bonus points for their house being the most in-tact building for miles!

“I did this?” Cream-Heart asked as we stood in the cul-de-sac looking at their home.

“Sure did.” I nodded. “Neighbor of year two centuries running if you consider the other houses you fixed too. Way better off than anypony I’ve seen thus far.”

“I remember fixing up a fence or two and trimming the Speckledorf’s hedges since they got so unruly but I don’t remember fixing… all this.” She gestured at the whole place. “I mean, I’ve watched a few home improvement shows but..”

“Who cares Mom! Our house is still here!” Button’s elated. “We could’ve lost everything, but we didn’t! Thanks to you!”

Cream-Heart would have voiced more of her confusion but was pulled into an impromptu hug by her son. After how much their world had changed, it was good to know their home was still there, earning a smile from the mare. “I suppose you’re right. Mildly insane or not I did keep our home standing.”

“And I dare say she did quite a good job given the circumstances,” Lucy commented from nearby, sorting through her saddlebags. “With the abysmal state the rest of the wasteland is in, I can confidently say she keeps one of the nicest homes in Equestria. Outside the Enclave naturally, But Equestria nonetheless.” She nodded like she managed to give a compliment without insulting anyone…She failed.

“You two should go inside, get comfy, and…I dunno, Do some soul searching?” I suggested, shrugging before looking down at the ant skewer. “Maybe figure out how to cook these?”

The two ghouls looked at me like I just suggested they drink water from a toilet. “Cook those? Like… eat meat?” Cream-Heart questioned looking at the dead bugs.

“Sure why not? Make some ant kaboobs.” I suggested prodding the chitinous corpses with a stick.

Buttons stifled a snicker.

“What? What's so funny?” I asked prodding the ants more. “You can put like… eight legs per kerboob. They can’t be that fireproof.”

“Kaboobs huh?” He snickered all the harder like he was about to explode, earning a facehoof and sigh from his mom.

“What's so funny about kaboobs? I had one like a week ago, one of the best things I ever tasted. So chewy and full of mystery!”

“Yep, them kaboobs sure are mysterious huh? Some big ole kaboobs huh?”

“Goddesses bucking Damn it, what's so funny?!”

He finally broke down laughing, contagious enough to even get Moonstone to chuckle a bit too. “They’re called kabobs! Not Kahahabooobs! Hehehhee!”

“Nuh uh!!” Flawless comeback. “I read the sign above the guy’s stand. It said they’re called kaboobs!”

“Uh huh!” he retorted much less flawlessly than I. “I got to go to one of those Boujee griffon restaurants over in Beaverly Hills, and they were called kabobs.”

“Lies and slander!” I refused to be wrong!

“Who you gonna trust? The guy old enough to know what real words are? Or some junktown jerky vendor that clearly can't spell?”

I squinted leaning in. “You cannot comprehend the level of petty I am willing to be about this.”

He leaned in turn “Kabobs.”

I leaned further “Kaboobs!”

He leaned even closer “Kabobs!!”

I got snoot to snoot with him, the stench of decay paled in comparison to my pettiness! “Kaboobs!!”

“Ka-”

I pounced the clearly very wrong ghoul with my patent-pending battle cry. “WREEEEE!!!” Resulting in a very short but equally amusing brawl for everypony to witness. Just a pair of nerds rolling around on the pavement bapping the hell out of each other.

“Oh my, a nerd fight?” Lucy came over to sit between Moonstone andCream-Heart. “Are we taking gentlemarely wagers?” she looked between the two.

Moonstone shrugged an “Eh~” but Cream-Heart was far more into it than I wanted her to be. “You get her honey! Equal rights and equal lefts!”

“Weren't you just telling him to be nice to us a moment ago?” Moonstone questioned.

“Yes, and I’ll resume doing that after my son wins this little slap-fight. We really are grateful you pulled us out of our stupor.. and brought us home.” She looked back to our epic phonetic brawl over kaboobs. “Buttons may be all jokes about it but I’m worried. No stallion should be able to shrug off the end of the world as fast as he has. Even I’m still trying to come to terms with it…” Between the baps I was catching to my face I could see her expression gloomed. “Everypony’s gone, our friends, our plans for the future, our lives…I dont even feel like I’m in the same Applewood as I was yesterday. Like I walked into a ruined copy.” she sniffed. “Him letting off some steam is probably good for him and I should be supportive… Two jars of jelly on my son kicking your friend’s flank.”

“Only TWO?!” I yelled trying to block ghoul hooves trying to bap my snoot!

“I call two cans of beans. I’ve never known a pettier mare than our little stable dweller.” Lucy beamed setting out a pair of cans from her pack. “Try to blow her head off with a rifle and shed forget in a week. But tell her something silly like orange and citrine being the same color and she’ll plot to strangle you with your own blood ten years in advance. Remember what she said about the ant queen?”

Note to self: Strangle Lucy with her own blood somehow. They are too distinct colors.

“Kabooobs!!” I yelled rolling ontop of Buttons trying to get as many baps in as possible.

“See? Our darling is the pettiest mare in the mild west~ A little more and she’ll be foaming at the mouth. Daddy would love her~”

“True, until she gets tired.” admitted Moonstone pulling out a few small boxes. “I hate to bet agenst friends, but she is up agenst a ghoul. And ghouls can't get tired… Unlike Sketchy, who has the stamina of a triple-A spark battery.”

“Hey!” I protested from the brawl only to get bapped across the muzzle. “Oof!”

“I hedge my bet. Two fancy hotel soaps on Sketchy and four on Buttons.”

“Only TWO?!!”

Note to self: Stangle Moonstone with hotel soap…somehow.

***

“My Beaaaans!!” Lucy cried clinging to my hind hooves like a toddler as we walked the wasted streets. “You lost my bucking beans!!”

I groaned dragging the drama turkey along towards her squad’s meeting point. I had petty vengeance to plot and she wasn't helping. “I tried okay! It's not my fault the clearly very wrong ghoul has over 200 years of combat experience! He may have won the battle, but the kaboob debate isn't over!” I declared valiant raising a hoof ahead.

Moonstone sighed nonplussed next to me. “You got your ass kicked in a slap fight… by a ghoul who only just became self-aware four hours ago.”

“I shall have Veeengeance!” I hissed, squinting into the distance, and dramatically balling my hoof into a fist… hoof… thing. “If I can’t beat him in a fair duel the only solution is skullduggery, backstabbing, and ideas from the darkest corners of my mind. Mmmm yess…” I rubbed my hooves/wrists together.

“Sketchy?...” Moonstone looked down at me.

“Yeah?” I paused looking up.

“Can we save the cartoonish villainy for later?” He suggested manually prying Lucy off my legs. “Love the enthusiasm, but If we keep stopping every time you slip into a melodramatic monologue we’ll never reach the extraction point.”

“I’m not melodramatic! This is a perfectly reasonable reaction to somepony defiling the ponish language with something as dumb as ‘kabob’!” I retorted crossing my hooves. “I refuse to back down!”

Moonstone facehoofed. “They ARE called kabobs Sketchy.”

I blinked in a long awkward silence as the tiny princesses rolled by in a tumbleweed. “Ya what?...”

“Multiple food items impaled on a stick are called kabobs. The only reason the stand in Bubble Town said ‘kaboobs’ is because most ponies don’t know how to spell.”

“But…”

“OR! The stand owner did it intentionally because ponies giggling at ‘boobs’ drums up business.”

I sat there with the gentle wasteland breeze blowing through my mane in the longed awkwarder silence that followed. Old newspapers flitted by, ancient shop signs creaked, and my dignity withered on the floor. My soul… my Ego and Id! Ruined!!

Lucy nudged me. “Sketchy? Darling?...you home?” A wing passed in front of my muzzle. “Helloooooo? Flight control to Sketchy, Do you read dear? Over.”

After everything I've been through today: Ass kicked in my dreams, falling down stairs, tippy hoofing around fragile minds, being cooked alive by ants, sneaking through a field of feral ghouls, losing a nerd fight with the very ghoul I saved, and now finding out the molehill I chose to die on never existed to begin with… my eyelid twitched. “I’m gonna strangle somepony…”

“Oh gracious she's alive.” Lucy walked ahead. “Just don't strangle any of my squad mates and I’ll get you a fluffy cloud bed to pass out in. Sound good? Great.” She beamed prancing along without my answer.

My eye didn't stop twitching even as Moonstone pushed my rear to get me walking again. Riding on the knife’s edge of a mental break I followed them to the supposed ‘rally point’ Lucy was supposed to meet her squadmates at if they ever got separated.

Among the neglected suburbs and concrete sprawl was supposed to be a, and I’m quoting my pipbuck quest marker. ‘Lieutenant Ball-Bearings Memorial tennis court’. “There has to be a story about that name…” I mumbled to myself before Lucy gasped.

“There! There it is! Eeeee!! Going home at last!” She galloped ahead taking a wobbly flight after some excited wing beats.

“Lucy! Stop running off! It’s not safe!” Moonstone galloped after her leaving me behind… and alone.

I squinted at the going-away flanks. “I’m not paid enough to run today…” I groaned dragging myself all the way there to find the two standing at the edge of the tennis court.

The abandoned tennis court was just that, abandoned. Cracked, sun-bleached, and littered with garbage nopony was here. The only sign of post-war life being a rickety tower of empty crates bearing a tattered white flag emblazoned with the winged black ‘E’ of the enclave. A landed Lucy’s wings sank. “Where… Where are they?”

Chapter 12: Hotel Coltifornia (2/2)

Lucy looked as if she were going through a thousand excuses a minute to justify her Enclave buddy's absence. Meanwhile, I, having been on one too many emotional rollercoasters today, decided to skip the panic step and be the first pony to look around for clues.

“Alright, everpony start reading random papers you find on the ground, somepony probably wrote down where they were going, or left a memory orb, or…I dunno.. Smoke signals?” I said beginning the good old ‘look in the most obvious places’ routine.

Turned out I was the only one doing it as Moonstone had the much more important job of keeping Lucy from freaking out. “Lucy, Lucy, look at me Lucy! Focus!”

It was not going too well. “Where’d they go?! Why would they leave me behind?! Were they attacked!? Are they all dead!? Did they abandon meeeee?!” Yep, she was panicking.

I glanced around. “Doubt it? Given the distinct lack of bodies lying around they aren’t dead… and I don't know if you’ve noticed, but there's usually an abundance of bodies lying around!” I gestured at the court.

“How can you be sure? What if my squad mates were taken by cannibals like in the training videos?! Or worse went home without me?!” Still panicking…

“Lucy.” I squinted. “Does this look like the face of a mare who isn’t sure?” I asked circling a hoof at said face.

She paused and looked at me. “You don’t want me to answer that darling.”

I facehoofed. “Okay let's try putting two and three together.” letting go of my face I pointed back at her. “You have wings.”

She nodded.

“And they have wings?”

More nods.

“Meaning! If you guys ever got attacked, you’d just fly away..”

She blinked. “Oh yeah…”

“And the only way to kill something that flies is to…” I led her on.

“Gotta nick ‘em in the wings,” Moonstone answered confidently, no longer having the hold Lucy to the ground. “A scatter gun with birdshot usually works best, unless you come across one in their buggy-looking power armor. Then you gotta use slugs on the joints to penetrate the…” He stopped to notice Lucy was just staring at him horrified. “Well, I err…not that I’ve ever done such things. Just uhh…ahem, Read about it at the Academy a few months after the Pip thing is all.”

“How easily Moonstone could kill you aside, His point props up my own.” as all points and opinions should! “Your Squad isn’t dead…probably. If they were attacked, there’d be bodies, blood, gore, mayhem!” I may have swung my hooves to emphasize my point. “An abstract work of sanguine post-modern art! But nothing. They left.”

“Why are you both so graphic today?” muttered Lucy looking between me and Moonstone.

“Good Goddeses you stopped panicking. Hallelujah!” I sighed. “Now look for clues if you wanna find where they went.”

Lucy looked about still looking concerned. “But operational procedures would stop-”

“Look for clues or I’m gonna have Moonstone slap the shit out of you!”

“WHAT?!” they said in unison.

“You heard me! I’ll do it too!” I levitated a nearby rock. “I’ve had it up to HERE!-” and threw the rock. “With all the crap that’s happened today! I Want a nap! And you-”

“OWW!!” A voice cried from the other end of the tennis court. Coming from behind a pile of crates with a rusted-out Red-Racer wagon was a brown earth colt. A blank flank junk collector rubbing the scuff on his head. “The fuck I do to you?!”

There was a long and awkward silence as the three of us just stared at the last thing we expected to see out in the wasteland. A kid.

“What are ya’ starin’ for?! Hit me with a rock, an’ just stand there gawkin’ like I plowed yer ma!” this was a very loud and foul-mouthed colt, talking four times his age.

“Uhh… Who are you?” I asked the most obvious question.

“Who am I? WHO AM I?! Who the flying buck a duck are you ya-” Immediate regret set in as the colt slipped into a tirade of colorful swearing at the expense of everything ranging from my unknown grandma to the ground I walked on.

I can play this game too kid! “Alright, listen here you pint-sized condom failure! I asked my question first, but buck me sideways, I guess we gotta do it like this ‘naw!” I even picked up his accent, rather similar to Watcher Two’s. “I’ve been lit on fire, nearly eaten by ghouls, lost a fight with stairs! And I am just looking for one more thing! ONE MORE THING!!! To send me over the edge!”

The mystery colt lifted a brow. “And that's my problem how?”

“Cause if this plot doesn't get moving I’m gonna rip somepony’s head off!!” I cried earning the concerned stares of everypony in head ripping distance.

“The… plot?”” Lucy repeated confused.

“Yes, the plot!” I snapped. “We came out here to find your enclave buddies and they ain't here! Where’d they go? Why‘d they leave?! Am I hallucinating?! These are the questions!”

Whilst I raged on, Lucy slowly pulled a syringe from her pack only for Moonstone to push it back down. “Don’t even think about giving her more rage.”

“I wasn’t going to boost the darling,” she chided. “Just some Med-X to help her relax.”

“That’s almost as bad!” Moonstone grunted batting Lucy’s wing away every time she reached for her saddlebag. “No!”

“-and another thing!” I continued oblivious to the conversation going on behind me. “Are we really gonna sit here for hours digging for clues?! This is usually the part of the story where a deus ex machina suddenly gives us a direction. So where is it?!” I waved at the surroundings. I turned back to the mystery colt in time to see him sneaking away with his wagon. “Oh no you don’t!”

He glared back and kept walking “I don’t know anything about yer damn turkey problem! So I’m taking my haul and leaving! Stop me and I’ll put my hoof up your ass!”

“You’re not going anywhere until I find the deus ex machina I’m looking for-” I paused, looking back at the contents of the scavenger colt’s wagon, seeing a familiar many-antenna’d orb. “...is that a sprite bot?”

The colt looked back at it too then back to me. “Yeah, why? It’s full of pooters ‘n shit. What's it to ya?”

I looked down at my hooves in awe that the solution to our problems magically appeared as soon as I complained about it. “The power….” I mumbled but pushed the idea of cool plot powers aside. “Can uhh…. Can we have it?”

For once the angry colt was flabbergasted. “Wha- Are you dumb?! Buck no! I wanna turn it into a cool hat!”

Damn, that’s a good reason for him to keep it, but it was my horseapple plot powers that brought it before me. “I'll pay you!”

“With what?” he squinted.

“With money?-”

“Deal!” the colt quickly turned and shoved the derelict sprite bot out of his wagon, clattering to the ground. “Pay up!”

“Uhhh…” I checked my pipbuck. I wasn’t exactly ‘broke’ per se, but like hell was I giving up the complete rock collection! I did have some random garbage I picked up… but I said money didn’t I? I tossed out a baggie of all the caps I managed to find on the walk back from the War Fields. All 17 of them. “Ere ya go.”

He looked down at the pitiful baggie of caps that barely clinked when he picked it up. “Is this it?”

“I uhh….”

“Yer skint broke ain't ya?” he glared again.

“Yeah..” I slumped. “But you didn’t say ‘how much money’ so.. Think of it like I gave you Seventeen times more than the minimum we agreed on. That’s a seventeen thousand percent profit margin.” I smiled like I was trying to sell dirt to a mole.

“Whatever,” he grumbled tossing the baggie into his wagon and got moving again. “It was heavy anyway. Bucking brokies I swear..”

(Success!) I grabbed the sprite-bot in my forehooves and pulled it close. “Hehehe~ flawless as ever me~ Now I can harass Watcher-2 and-” I paused seeing two concerned little princesses standing on the pavement and pointing behind me.

I looked back to see Lucy looming over me and being restrained by a struggling Moonstone, A syringe in her pinion feathers reaching for me. “Darling just- needs a nap is all!” She protested struggling against the much larger stallion's grip.

Moonstone huffed and grunted keeping the pega at bay. “What is with you Enclave types and chems! You can’t solve all your problems with-” he noticed me and quickly shoved Lucy back down into a normal sitting position. “Oh Hey Sketchy, We were just uhh…”

Lucy went stiff too glancing around nervously. “Heeeey, Darling... We uhh… How are you feeling? It’s been a long day, right? Getting kinda cranky, need a break, a little med-x maybe?” she smiled sheepishly.

“Uhhh…no. I’m fine.” I squinted pondering what they’d been fighting about the whole time. “Good news though! I have our solution!” I held my grand prize aloft!

“A sprite-bot?” Moonstone questioned.

“A broken sprite-bot?” Lucy added.

“Not just a broken sprite-bot, but access to the greatest repository of wasteland knowledge besides my archive.” I caressed the sprite-bot’s dented hull, the urge to pet the mechanical creature was strong. Damn, Pinkie designed these things to be cute… or anatomically accurate. Both? Both.

After a pregnant pause, Lucy slid out the syringe again. “Seems our poor stable mare has finally lost it. I told you giving her Rage was a bad idea, but you didn’t stop me.”

Moonstone looked at her incredulously. “Wha- But you!-”

“Now Moonstone, this isn’t the time to shift the blame.” She said nobly, another wing to her chest. “We need to help Sketchy recover from her mental break.”

I was very nonplussed. “Guys…. I’m being serious.” I rattled the bot some more. “It can help!”

“Seriously Moonstone! How could you talk me into letting her have Rage of all substances? Her mind clearly wasn't prepared for combat drugs! Now she's buying junk off street rats.” She shook her head disappointingly much to Moonstone's facial expressions conveying a ‘what the buck!’ without him having to say it.

“You’re not listening, got it,” I grumbled and focused on the bot. The rage did feel so good… and violent… and made my teeth itch. But that wasn’t important right now. I needed to get this bot back online.

“Maybe she was just being nice to the crusader? They are kinda desperate.” Moonstone suggested with his own glare.

“As far as I’m concerned the needs of one orphan pales in comparison to the pain and suffering your reckless actions have inflicted upon poor Sketchy here. I mean just look at her! Raggedy as the day we found her!”

Yeah, they were arguing again, which gave me plenty of time to try and fix the bot. He… she… it was very intact aside from all the dents, bent antennas, and cracked wings. Nothing that would kill the- “Oh a bullet hole.” On the right side of the body was a small caliber hole, who knew these things had no armor? I knew! Which made it even more impressive that sprite bots survived the war.

I popped the panel off, shook out some loose parts, and looked around the mechanical viscera of this ancient machine. I just needed to remember everything I learned in maintenance class, everypony took the class, I just had minimal reason to remember most of it after graduation. Mops and bleach usually don’t require working knowledge of robo-surgery. My hooves dove into the electrical gore fishing around and looking for anything broken. “Eww…eww.. I know it’s just wires but it kinda looks like spaghetti.” I groaned trying not to let my imagination wander to- aaand it's too late!

The tiny princesses stood around the hole in the sprite-bot wearing nurse uniforms. Each of them took turns fishing out blood-splattered lengths of wire and broken plastic chips with comically large tweezers. Turning my pip-light on only served to crank the mental image up to 11 as with a blink the sprite-bot was now covered by an operating gown.

Little Luna happily fished out a flattened .22 round from the mess leaving three severed wires and a cracked chip the bullet failed to pierce. Little breaks like these were far smaller than the ones my glasses usually had, so I matched colors and fused wires back together one by one. And what is a computer chip but the same silicon my glasses are made of?

Fixing the blatantly obvious things would hopefully be enough as I put the bot back together. I’d need to turn the little guy back on, So I swapped out his spark batteries and plugged in my pipbuck. Life! And that life was… an ASCII art doodle of the Morale Minister herself followed by:

Spritebot-OS.1.2345

Loading…
Booting….
Updating Rule of Thirds Protocol…
Done!

Greetings: ‘Maintenance’
Password: [][][][][][][]

I blinked down at my pipbuck, it wanted a password for emergency maintenance. How would anypony fix these things if the password was the issue?! I racked my mind for what the password could be. These things were designed so no zebra off the street could walk up to them and hack them, so there’s no way the password would just be ‘password’ right?...maybe it would be ‘Password!’? Then again there was that dream… She said something about a password, but she never said to what.

Password: ‘5318008’

I hit enter cringing and waiting for the bot to explode like the last one… but it didn’t. My pipbuck made a small ding and the Sprite-bots eye-screen flickered to life, each eye a spinning pixel hourglass. The whir of small fans within and the wing gyros coming online filled the air as it started hovering about a foot off the ground.

“Good goddesses.” I face-hooved pulling at my muzzle. “The mighty password standing between the sprite-bot network and Zebra partisans was boobies spelled backward. Ughhhhhh!!” I groaned, not at how cringily weak it was…but at how genius it was at the same time! A password so dumb that nopony would even consider it! That’s Saint Pinkie for you.

I’d long tuned out whatever Lucy and Moonstone were arguing about, but the fact they both put this much energy into it for this long was cute. It’d be cuter if I didn’t feel like ass, but I’m finally making progress! Blinking online the screen eyes looked around in confusion, soon to project a (^3^) look as the little speaker began blasting its broken-down equestrian anthem. I reeled it back in with the pip-cord before it could wander off to its old patrol routes. “Oh no you don't.” I yoinked it closer, catching it between my hooves. “Hey! Hey Watcher! WATCHER!! Wake up! Tune in, or whatever you do. We need help.”

Lucy slowly turned to Moonstone with her ‘I told you so’ brows raised. “See? She cracked.”

“You know that’s not how he operates, right?” Moonstone said skeptically coming over to inspect the bot I was shaking.

“Is too! He talked to me before I met you guys.”

“Hallucinations brought on by crippling loneliness, as expected.” Lucy nodded self-assuredly.

“He’s real Lucy..” Moonstone added rolling his eyes at the purple pega once more.

“Oh please,” Lucy rolled her eyes “Watcher is just a silly plot device that pip-mare used in her book to bridge the transitions in her story. If there really was a fantastical fire-breathing dragon with the world’s best surveillance network at his disposal, don’t you think he’d do more than give random stable mares friendship advice? Like, burn raiders with fire?”

I squinted. “You have no imagination do you?”

She gasped. “I do too have an imagination! I once arranged all the hoofballs at the college gymnasium into the shape of a giant hoofball” Proud, indignant, huffy…Lucy.

“You probably think green is a creative color too don’t you?” I squinted harder, in disgust of her not arranging the hoofballs into a smiley face.

“It is too a creative color!” Came from both the mare with green grapes on her ass and, to everypony’s surprise, the spritebot!

The voice crackled to life and the bot ceased pulling against my pip-cord and faced us directly with a (>n>) on its eye screen. “First of all! I am NOT a plot device thank you very much!” and he turned specifically to Lucy “And secondly! Did they really cover up Operation Cauterize that much!? You guys shot me in the face!”

Lucy looked stunned for once, and the fact that Moonstone was leaning in with his own ‘I told you so’ eyebrow raised wasn’t helping. Whistling innocently she looked around before seeing Moonstone being smug as a bug before shoving him with her wings. “Shut up!”

“Watcher!” I proclaimed, hooves thrown high. “Just in time to prove me right!...wheres watcher two?”

“Watcher two-” he started followed by the muffled plap of a facepalm and a faint groan. The bot’s eyes shifting to a (-n-) “You seriously repaired and harassed a sprite-bot just so you could talk to him?”

“Maaaaaaybe~”

“And not me? The guy who actually runs the whole Spritebot thing?”

“...maybe…” I smiled sheepishly.

“Why?” the spritebot glared at me with its pixel eyes.

“Well, I uhh…” I tugged at the collar of my stable suit a little. “It's just ummm… I have this working relationship thing going on with watcher two and uhh…”

“Aaaand?”

“Aaaand you don’t seem to like me, so….” I smiled all the harder shrinking inward.

There was a faint grumble from Watcher “My old headset is ruined cause of you… and you burned down Pinkie’s house!”

“She said It was my house to burn down if I wanted!-” I paused. “Oh right, I was the only pony in that dream.” I groaned. “Just give Watcher Two the most jelly-proof headset you have. C'mon, I fixed your sprite bot!” I pleased rattling the Spritebot as proof. “Pweeeeese?” I worked the biggest, shiniest, wobbly puppy eyes I could manage, even putting out the little pout lip for the cherry on top.

[Sucess!] After holding that look for a few seconds he caved. “Fiiine! Just stop with the face already. Make a guy feel like he kicked a basket of puppies.”

I immediately switched back to normal and hoof-pumped. “Yis!!”

“Fair warning, he’s… tired.”

“Why?”

“Reasons….” He trailed off before the comm line cut out to a long silence.

Moonstone leaned into view. “Called it, 9 out of 10 odds a random stable mare knows Watcher. Felt odd you never brought him up.”

“I didn’t mention talking to Watcher for the same reason I don’t mention half the crap I see.. You’d think I’m crazy.” I grumbled imagining the ridicule.

“Oh darling,” Lucy came about the other side of me putting a wing over my withers. “We already thought you were crazy.” She said with such a compassionate smile it was like she was blissfully unaware calling somepony nuts was usually an insult.

“Gee, thanks guys. Really self-assuring.” I slumped and glared ahead.

The eye screen of the spritebot flickered a yellowy orange and a voice cracked to life. “You!!” it crackled accusatorily as the bot pulled from my grip and leaned in.

“Heeeeey Watcher Two. How ya uhh…” I tapped my forehooves together. “How ya been?” and applied a winning smile. It sounded like I was in trouble.

His voice was deep and perturbed like I pissed in his sugar apple bombs. “I’ve been sitting on frozen peas for five days, because SOMEPONY buttered me up and sicked my wife on me!”

“You’re… welcome?” I maintained the smile, trying not to draw attention to the sweat drops forming.

Moonstone stepped in buying me a few more seconds from being grilled. “Uhh… what did She do?”

The bot looked up to the taller stallion and Lucy. “Oh hey, ya made friends. Good job.” His tone completely turned downright friendly, jovial even. “Glad to meet Y’all. I’m Watcher Two.” the bot nodded to them both before he coughed. “She!!” he gyrated the sprite at me. “Buttered me up to my wife so hard It’d clog my arteries if ah wasn’t getting ridden like a mechanical bull!”

Lucy leaned in with a whisper “Psst.. what's he talking about? My Hick-an-ese isn't that good… and what’s butter?” not that I knew what butter was either.

Moonstone on the other hoof simply said “Oh…damn.” looking down at me.

I however refused to be yelled at…or blamed!...or mildly inconvenienced! “Hey, I saved you! She was gonna yell at you for talking to strange wasteland mares!”

“That strange wasteland mare was you!!” he retorted. “You saved me from getting yelled at sure. But ya made me look like the king of hooves-and-hearts day in the process.”

“You’re…welcome?” I tried again.

“I’m sitting on a bag of frozen peas!!”

Lucy blinked and mumbled. “I still don’t get it…”

Moonstone sighed and leaned over me to whisper in her ear which was followed by the pega’s muzzle going darker purple and her wings popping up. “You did what to this poor stallion?!”

“I helped him!!” I protested throwing my hooves in the air. “I made him sound like the Goddess bucking saint of bucking to his wife! I’m sorry if you are the first stallion in the HISTORY OF EQUIS to complain about drowning in free mare!”

“Oh, it gets better!” watcher two added. “Not only do I gotta keep an extra water bottle on me at all times, but she isn't going to stop until she gets the foals YOU promised her.”

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?! I’m clearly the best wingmare the wasteland has ever seen and didn't know it! I am failing the see how this is a problem. You married her right? Wasn't that the goal?!”

“Well, yes…but I kinda expected it to happen a bit more naturally, accidentally. And now I can’t tell her to slow down without going back on everything you said that ‘I said’ about her,”

“Why not?” I asked tilting my head.

“Cause She’d be pissed at me!”

“Oh…” I scratched my chin, and contemplated. “Big Book of Social Manipulation chapter
12…”

“Big book of what now?” Lucy repeated eyes widening a bit.

“If your request will upset upset somepony. Turn it into a compliment of some kind.”

Watcher Two glared skeptically. “And how do you suppose I do that when I can barely walk?”

I tried to fight the urge, the raw compulsion to say what came to mind…and failed. “That’s what she said.” after a second of silence from the bot. “I mean uhh, don’t phrase it like everything I said was a lie. Simply say your wife is so amazing in bed that you can’t keep up with her raw prowess. If she asks why you didn’t say anything sooner just tell her you would have but your pride as a stallion was on the line. That you’d feel like less of the absolute stud she deserves if you showed weakness. You save face, she slows down, and she’ll probably love you even more simply cause you showed sensitivity and weakness. Mares love that open and sensitive shit-...” I paused to see all three of them staring at me. I blinked “What?...”

"Wow, that IS manipulative..." Moonstone commented first.

Lucy second. "It's so clever yet I feel dirty hearing it explained out loud."

“I’m not gonna lie to my wife, just trying to keep up with everything you said the first time has been eating me alive.”

“That's the miracle of it! Chapter 12.2! It’s all true!” I exclaimed. “Because A you truly can't keep up. B you truly love her. C, everyone’s partner is amazing in bed, even bad sex is ‘good’ sex. And D, EVERYPONY feels that way when it comes to their partner. ‘Am I enough’ is an anxiety everypony is born with. I know I’d be anxious trainwreck if I couldn’t plow my partner's lights out.”

“You have a partner?” Moonstone asked sounding TOO amazed.

“I uhh…” I scratched my mane. “Th-that's not important right now.” I successfully dodged the question. Flawless deflection!

“Uh-huh…” he muttered under his breath.

“I umm… I’ll have to think about it.” Watcher two muttered and after a few moments of faraway contemplation, he spoke again. “Alright, what did ya three need help with? Please tell me it's not a 4th member for your yoga team.”

It was Lucy’s time to shine… and by shine I mean become a frantic maniac grabbing the sprite-bot. “Where’d my squad go?! They aren’t at the rally point!!”

“Ahh! Don't shake the bot!!” Watcher yelled back as the screen eyes turned to (xAx ) before Moonstone made Lucy free it. “Lemmie check if we have any logs on that…” There was a faint squeak on the other end before we heard a muffled “SPIIIIIKE!!! What do we know about the enclave out near Applewood?....Really?...No I didn’t touch… it was one headset… no… yes the tennis court… left… your other left… thank you.” he left the push to talk on again before there was another squeak, a groan, the crunching of something frozen. “Let's see....”

“Tell me!!” Lucy flailed much to Moonstone holding her a safe distance from the sprite-bot.

“With that sector of the cloud layer slowly being peeled back by pip, the towns above were using that tennis court as a rallying point for the refugees moving to the surface.” Page flipping sound ensued.

“I already knew that.” Lucy huffed folding her wings.

“I didn’t…” I grumbled and squinted at Lucy.

“But as with everything else in the Enclave after Operation Cauterize, the relocation effort is as broken as Sketchy’s hopes and dreams of being an overmare.”

“Hey!”

Page flip. “-is for horses.” he continued. “Last available reports say the enclave members scattered around Applewood about two weeks ago with no backup location in mind. So I guess like your friend here, pegasi have been going to this tennis court to find it abandoned. A surprisingly common occurrence these days… Ponyville is getting filled with lost enclave members from all over.”

“So what am I supposed to do now?!” Lucy protested. “If I go back up they’ll say I went AWOL, If I wander around down here I’m going to get shot by spike fetishists. Which way did most of my squad go?!”

“Hold your feathers there purple, lemme look.” many page flips and terminal clicks ensued.

“My name..is.. Noctilucent!!” she cried to the heavens.

“Noctilucent…lucent…” Watcher two pondered, the bot’s eyes shifting to a (?3?) as he did so. “Ohhh are you Lucent’s filly? Don of the western enclaves P4 Mafia?”

“Yes, Daddy did say something about his fellow rank and file referring to him as that. Is that an issue?” instantly calmed again once her pedigree was questioned.

“Nah, I just heard all kinds of fun stories about ‘em. Like how he made a whole raptor disappear one night.”

“Don’t be silly, The enclave keeps track of all its irreplaceable raptors. If that raptor ever existed I’d know about it. It’s just a story he likes to tell the recruits to make him sound like the cool officer.” She nodded to herself quite assured of her own reality.

“Sure he didn’t… and the warehouse full of raptor parts he found was a logistical miracle.” Watcher two chuckled and the spritebot winked. “Only info I got on where most of them might ‘ah went is the Hotel Coltifornia.”

I raised a hoof. “Is this the part where I ask where and what that is?”

“It's a restored hotel on the southside of Applewood. Only ever saw it in passing a couple ‘ah years ago, but if your squad had stuff to trade then they probably crashed there for now.”

I looked at my pipbuck waiting for it to self-update with a new quest and a greyed-out location…any second now.

“You should be fine if you stick to the highway that runs between Dayglow and the rest of the city, It’s a lot safer nowadays, but I wouldn't hang around for long, radiation ‘n all.”

Lucy was already bouncing in place at the gate to the tennis court. “Let's go! Let's go! Lets goooo!! I'd kill for to be pampered at a proper hotel! Eeeee!!!”

DING!!

New quest: Hotel Coltifornia!
-Go to The Hotel Coltifornia
-Find Enclave Members.

The quest updated and my map opened to reveal a few new greyed-out locations on the southside. The Hotel Coltifornia, and Dayglow Spa… or maybe that one was already there? Ditzy mentioned it before… or was that Lasso? Curse you potato memory!

“I guess that’s our cue to go…” I said watching Lucy bounce impatiently. At least her priorities were in order. I think I can hold out on sleep long enough to reach said hotel. I’ve got a whole zero caps to offer!

“Might be best, Seems like a miracle she ain't flown off without you.”

“Yeahhh…”

“You three have fun and try not to get killed out there. The Applewood wasteland is a dangerous place. And I don't just mean the gangs and wacky races.”

“Don’t worry we will. Harass you again next time I find a sprite-bot.”

“Sure, Just be loud and annoyin’ enough to annoy Watcher. He’ll answer just to keep you from drawing attention to his bots. Even though his TRUE IDENTITY was revealed in Pip’s book!!” The last bit was yelled elsewhere.

I really need to get my hooves on a copy of that book, gotta get caught up on recent events. There are references to stuff all over the wasteland and I have no idea what anypony’s talking about! How’s a mare supposed to learn recent history around here? Context clues?!

Just when I started walking away I caught a “One last thing before ya march off~” from Watcher Two.

I turned back “Yeah?”

“The Pip-dar’s uhh… ‘been on the fritz’ since Homage listened in on our last conversation. So a missed breeze here, and an off-target storm there means a rad-storm might slip in from the coast. Just warnin’ ya.”

Now anypony could put 2 and cucumber together to realize that Rad + storm meant a radioactive storm, but I had to ask. “What’s a rad storm?...”

Here comes Moonstone to save the day! “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Lil-Pip activating sunshine and rainbows may have cleansed most of the radiation and taint from Equestria, but not the rest of Equis.”

“Like a massive sponge,” Lucy added.

“As far as most ponies know, Zebrica is still a radioactive hellscape much like everything else beyond the old borders, Including the sea.” He continued “Which is slowly seeping back in now that sunshine-and-rainbows is spent. It’s what some ponies, like me, call the ‘Bleedback-effect’. And the light bringer spends her days both managing the weather and using said weather to keep the radiation out of Equestria.”

“Oookay… makes sense,” I said pondering the grand cycle of the hydrosphere mixed with radiation. If left to its own devices radiation from other countries and seas would recontaminate the recently purified equestria… If you can call it purified, I thought squinting at the wasteland around me. Radioactive water evaporates and becomes radioactive rain… which this Lightbringer uses some magical weather control shenanigans I guess to direct them away from Equestria… or at least clean up behind the storms as fast as possible. “Wear a hazmat suit 24/7, got it!”

“Better to stay indoors until they blow over… or a hat will do just fine, Trust me, I know.”

***

Night had fallen on the dark desert highway wedged between the southern edges of Applewood and wide open wilderness. Buildings had grown sparse, and ponies even sparser. The only signs of life were distant gunshots and an old stallion we found screaming about mole ponies. I’m sure the mole ponies would get him eventually if he kept yelling their secret trans-dimensional conquest plans out in the open like that. But who am I to judge?

The sun had set and a cool wind blew through my mane as Team Sketchy ‘patent pending’ made our way towards destiny! Destiny came after another day of walking and thank the goddesses there wasn’t a single ganger toll booth way out here! My legs ached, my hooves were sore, and I wanted a bath! Not just a bath! But a twenty-hour-long coma too!

Lucy and Moonstone were feeling it too. Our mountain of stallion stamina was finally approaching his limit for the day, partially due to Lucy. A mare who lost all eagerness to reach the Hotel about an hour into the journey and has since collapsed onto a makeshift sled I made for Moonstone to pull.

Our path was bathed in moonlight, dotted with flickering streetlights that still had a functional power source buried somewhere. The skyline of Applewood became as lively as the ruined city itself. A donut of light around a blackened mountain of fallen cloud-scrapers. The whispers of cold winds occasionally broken by the echoes of creaking metal, distant engines, and further cheering. Colorful explosions burst over the city like thunder and rained streams of sparkles. Moonstone informed me these were ‘fireworks’ and that I not only had to fight the urge to ‘ohh’ and ‘ahh’ at them, but also resist the urge to acquire as many as possible in a gasoline-soaked cardboard box.

To the south lay a more sickly glow, a pale greenish hue gently wafting through the air beyond the southern hills. The direction of Dayglow Spa, being as radioactive as a place could be post sunshine-and-rainbows.

“So not only do the old pools collect all the radioactive rain that slips past the Pip-dar but the reactor in the basement is still cooking.” Moonstone explained dragging Lucy along.

Admittedly I too sat on the sled, but by comparison, I was barely any extra weight at all. “And the ghouls just leave it like that? Forever?”

“Pretty much, one of the biggest sources of Aqua-cura left in Equestria. Plus the radiation doubles as an effective raider deterrent.”

I scribbled away in my book taking note of the settlement alongside a doodle of a glowing me laid back in a beach chair with sunglasses and a coconut drink. “Makes sense. Any place not worried about its own defenses would be free to invest in its own economic growth without consequence.”

“I wanna go to the spaaaaaa…” Lucy whined into the sled floor.

“The only thing you’ll get from that spa is the fastest tan in history and nibble marks from ferals.” Moonstone retorted dragging us along.

“Hard to imagine what ghouls could do at a spa, I know 83 didn’t have one but Saint Rarity be damned if she didn’t make sure we knew how nice they were.” My imagination drifted to a uni-ghoul on a massage table getting their rigor mortis broken up. Another idea was acupuncture, but that mental image looked like a disappointed ghoul impaled with massive needles saying ‘I can’t feel a thing’. Maybe they do therapy like I did with PJ… or not. 200 years is a lot of time to get over one’s problems..

Lucy groaned and rose her head from the sled. “Anypony else smell food?” she sniffed. “And Is that zebra weed?”

Another breeze blew by carrying the warm scent of something cooking…or at least burning something that smelled nice. Like a hot can of BBQ beans, lemons, and a musty air vent all fighting for dominance. “Actually yeah I do…” Several sniffs of my own and my pipbuck dinged.

Quest updated: Hotel Coltifornia!
-Go to The Hotel Coltifornia.
-Find Enclave Members.
-(optional) Meet Lemon Haze.

“Who in Celstia’s tits is Lemon Haze?!” I exclaimed looking down at my glorified wrist terminal. “And how do you know who she is?!”

Moonstone stiffened a bit but quickly got himself back in order. “N-No idea, Pip-bucks can be esoteric like that sometimes. I like to think that’s what happens when unicorns get involved with computers. 1s, 0s, and magical 2s.”

I squinted and raised a hoof to protest but then remembered all the times my pipbuck notified me of really weirdly worded things. Like saying the sensor array atop the stable was FUBAR. What kind of company would program a device made for all ages to say something like that?

“A better question..” Moonstone looked back. “How do you two know what Zebra weed smells like?”

Lucy shot up in a flash. “Yeah Sketchy! How do you know what such a heinous substance smells like?” She deflected onto me, so this is what that felt like…

“From the crappy ‘Just Say Neigh’ movie Everypony was forced to watch in middle school! How else?” Seriously how has anypony not seen that thing? “It taught us how to do literally everything it told us not to do.” I said tapping one hoof into another as I got my list ready. “Zebra weed smells kinda musky, mellows you out, and makes you hungry. Introduced to Equestria from Zebrica well over a thousand years ago because it makes good rope. Hell, the movie taught us how to free-base dash and turn zebra weed into butter. Not that they explained what butter was! It just said ‘Don’t do this kids!’ and taught everypony how to commit pre-war felonies.”

Lucy blinked. “What was the Ministry of Image thinking? Is that why we have our own version?”

“Ministry of Image?” Moonstone questioned. “This sounds like something the Ministry of Morale would do to mess with the Ministry of Image.”

He had a point, that did sound like something the coked-out Saint Pinkie in my dream would do… heh that's something I would do for the shits and giggles. Not to kids obviously but- “heh…heheheh….heHEHE.” I started giggling, it was funny, then giggled harder, it was too funny. Until it finally broke into a snorty giggle that didn’t sound like my own. My hooves shot to my muzzle to silence whatever in the name of the sweet bucking saints that was?! The other two didn't seem to notice in the slightest, thank the goddesses.

“That still doesn’t explain how you know what the smell is.” Moonstone pressed with a knowing smirk back at Lucy.

The high and mighty master of being defensive defended herself the best way she knew how… being high and mighty. “I wouldn’t expect a wastelander like you to fully understand the level of training and education I’ve gone through to get there I am today. Obviously, I can identify Illicit substances, it's a very necessary skill for identifying and reporting the dregs leeching off Enclave society.” She huffed. “Also…there’s a shiny building over there.” She pointed her wing ahead.

Did she really think we were going to get distracted that easily-

***

Goddess Bucking Damn it! We got distracted that easily!

It was exactly as described, 10 stories of restored pre-ware hotel right off the south end of the route-10 highway. However, I imagine back in its heyday it didn’t look so fortified, or have boards over all the broken windows letting light and laughter spill out. All the surrounding buildings had long since collapsed or been deliberately torn down for materials to build a wall. How did I know this? Because the next-door gas station’s sign was currently propping up the aforementioned wall.

A hoofful of ponies stood guard along the wall and front gate. Each wearing old-world black security outfits with ballistic vests and battle-saddles sporting proper guns. There weren’t any banners or totems to indicate which warlord this place belonged to. It had to be important to somepony right? You could probably fit a stable in there if they tried hard enough… and maybe used the basement too.

“Finally here.” Moonstone sighed pulling our dinky little sled alongside a line of other wagons and carts parked outside the wall, under the watchful gaze of security. “Please tell me I don’t have to carry you inside too. I’d make a joke about carrying this whole team if I weren’t so tired.” he certainly sounded tired to me at least.

Lucy stepped off the sled and reinflated that pegasus ego. “Humph, it's about time really. Now we can finally get back to how things should be. I mean really, to think they all went AWOL to come to this….this…” she twirled a hoof at the building looking for a word. “Suspiciously in-tact hotel! The nerve of some recruits.” she huffed, prancing ahead like she was too good for the ground she walked on.

I on the other hoof, with all the social tact of a unicorn of my mighty standing, gracefully… rolled off the sled with a dignified ‘oof’. Groaning into the cracked pavement as the sled fell to pieces next to me. “Made it…” Extending a hoof forward, I drug myself towards the front door while Moonstone walked alongside me.

“Halt!” A guard looked down at us from his tower of tires next to the gate. The brown earth stallion looked us over. “You wasters aren’t broke are you?”

“Uhhhh….no?” I answered, capless.

(success!) He rolled his eyes. “Then welcome to the Hotel Coltifornia. Please wipe your hooves, feet, or other appendages before coming inside, and keep weapons stowed at all times. Blow anyone’s head off and yours goes on a pike. Got it?”

We nodded.

“Good.” he turned. “Open the gates!!”

The gates clattered open into a world of bygone refinement. A place of semi-alive hedges, flowers, statues, and by the goddesses a working water fountain! It had the little water-spitting pegasi with harps and everything! Cracked yet immaculately polished tiles led to the grand double doors of the entrance, freshly painted white, and trimming that glittered like gold. High atop the tower, if you consider 10 stories a tower, great ‘BINGs and BONGs’ rang out 3 times. It was so loud, yet so harmonic, looking up only caught me a glimpse of the gleaming bells swinging before the building blocked the view.

A pair of unicorns in dirty suits bowed and telekinetically opened the doors for us saying. “Welcome to the Hotel Coltifornia, We apologize for our security team's gruffness and pray your stay is enjoyable. Please check in at the front desk when you’re ready.”

This…is the most respect I've ever gotten in less than 5-seconds! Too bad I was too busy ‘ooh’ing and ‘ah’ing at all the eye candy to appreciate it. The interior was just as good if not better than the exterior. Chandeliers, mostly in-tact wallpaper, ponies in suits, and seamless tile floors, all awash in the warm glow of electric candlelight and the sound of a distant harp. At the center of it all infront of a grand staircase resided a gilded desk with a single bell, quill, and inkpot. Manning it was something I’d only seen in old technical manuals. A functioning Mr Hoovsy! A three-eyed, three-armed, spindly robot that hovered in the air with a gyroscopically stabilized arcane thruster… and this one had a top hat!

If it weren’t for the signs of age and structural damage they couldn’t cover up I’d start to believe I might be approaching the stairs to Heaven. Lucy seemed to think so too earning a subtle “Woooow….” from the mare as the finery glittered in her eyes.

Moonstone seemed less impressed somehow mumbling. “Been a while… finally see what they mean by Ten-Pony’s baby brother.”

My eyes bugged. There were places bigger and nicer than THIS?!

“Greetings, and welcome to the Hotel Coltifornia my dear travelers!” The Mr Hoovsy greeted us with a flourish of his fancy hat. “My name is Rust-Off Mk2. But most chaps refer to me as Rustov the 2nd, and I will be your receptionist this fine evening. And every evening hereafter you stay with us if management has anything to say about it.”

“Nice to.. meet you?” I found myself shrinking behind my friends. I tried okay?! It was my first time talking to a robot that I knew didn’t have a living breathing pony behind the speaker!

“There’s no need to be like that dear,” Lucy affirmed pushing me back forward with a wing before going right up to the desk. “She’s just shy. Three to check in for the night if you would be so kind.” Leave it to finery and decorum to turn Lucy from the pega whining about everything to one with a borderline noble level of manners.

Rustov gestured around with his many rolled limbs and eye stalks to convey the emotions in his voice. “I understand completely. What kind of desk man would I be if I wasn’t intimidating enough to keep the occasional thuggish raider or small child in check eh?” He chuckled rolling his appendages like mechanical fists making little jabs at the air. “But listen to me being silly, I’m perfectly harmless I assure you, my programming says so.” I was less than assured but he grabbed the nearby quill. “Now down to business, Standard fare is 200 caps a night per pony. We accept standard sparkle cola caps, NCR dollars, New-Pegas casino chips, and barter.”

As expected Lucy slowly looked back at Moonstone and gave him the nod towards the desk, when he only returned a mild glare she nodded all the harder, to which he groaned. “Hey, I’ve been covering your every expense for the past three weeks. I’m already in the hole 3 times over on this escort mission. I can’t keep paying for you forever.”

I raised a hoof. “Isn’t 200 caps a day kindof… a lot?”

Rostov was happy to explain. “From an outside perspective quite so, but to the enlightened, the high price comes with many benefits. Once your room is booked all food, alcohol, designer chems, and medical services are complimentary.”

“Oh..” I Oh’d.

Lucy and Moonstone engaged in some prolonged death staring before the mare relented and turned back to the desk with an exasperated “Fiiiiiineeee!” Immediately putting the polite smile back on for the robot. “Do you take Enclave checks?”

“Unfortunately no ma’am.” the robot answered. “Recent economic upheavals have led management to suspend accepting that form of legal tender until the storm calms so to speak. My dearest apologies”

Lucy winced like she just choked down a word grenade from going off. “I…see…” and with great hesitation reached for her pipbuck. “No issue…no issue…I just… I have something.” she said before hesitantly putting a medical kit on the counter. “4…5…6..Will 10 doses of Med-x cover it?”

“If you don’t mind me asking madame, Are you a certified medic?” Rostov asked with one of his eyes inspecting the box’s contents.

“Well..I passed first aid training if that co-”

One of the nearby security guards coughed into coffee mug and quickly looked away.

Moonstone however facehooved and mumbled. “She’s been carrying enough med-x to kill an alicorn this whole time…”

“Ah, never mind then! These will do wonderfully.” Rustov added before sliding the box behind the counter.

Lucy retreated back looking very grump at the stallion sitting there waiting to cover his own room. Which he promptly did with yet another baggie of caps he pulled out of his saddlebag. How many caps can one pony carry?! What was his day job before this?! I’ve only ever seen 600 caps in my whole life!

It was my turn though. “Uhhhhhh…..” rapidly looking between Rustov and my pipbuck. Looking at my grand total of 0 caps in the corner of the screen. Think Sketchy think! You’re broker than the back of Celestia’s favorite royal guard, you have to have something they want! Blood! Maybe they want my Plasma? “Uhhhhh…..”

Moonstone slid over in the middle of my financial crisis. “One moment… she's…cripplingly shy.” sitting next to me he took my pip-buck leg in hoof and started manually scrolling through my inventory. After many clicks and a few sideways glances from Moonstone at the frozen mare next to him, he booped a button. two folded pieces of paper appeared on the desk.

“No..” I muttered under my breath, wheezing as I felt my soul leaving my body at the realization. These were the only 2 things of value I had to offer. The jar of Pickles barely even registered as worth 10 caps and there's no way he’d deprive me of my only weapon.

“Will..” Moonstone glanced at the pipbuck then back to the bot. “A near-mint centerfold of playmare’s Miss August of 1017 and a mint-condition..” He looked again. “One-of-a-kind explicit Sweetie-belle pinup cover the night?”

“You wouldn’t dare…” escaped my throat as the quietest of squeaks while a nearby guard was choking to death on his midnight coffee.

Lucy lit up like a Hearths Warming tree. “She has what?! Th-thats impossible! Sweetie-Belle refused to do such things throughout her entire career! She’d never…for anypony… even if they were dying!” The pega pulled at her mane like history just whipped out evidence Discord did nothing wrong.

“Certainly! I’ll call the appraiser in the morning. Even if the later item proves to be a forgery, the buzz it will generate about the hotel will be well worth the 100 cap difference.” Rostov answered jovially gently taking the two priceless artifacts and stashing them in a drawer, locking it with a tiny key.

“My soul..” I whimpered with a leg weakly reaching towards the far away drawer.

The bot pulled out a set of keys. “Will everypony be sharing a room? Or will you be sleeping solo tonight?” He asked as if he hadn’t just scooped away my greatest treasures! I still needed to return that pin-up to Button Mash!! I swore on the bro-code! AHHHH!!!

“Yes-”

“No!” Lucy Huffed cutting Moonstone off. coming right up to the desk and taking a key before storming off with a growl towards the stairs. “I’m going to look for my squad mates, Come find me…whenever.”

As I was too stunned to move, one of Rustov’s mental pincers extended out to gingerly put the ‘shared room’ key in a mildly stunned Moonstone’s saddle bag. “My my she appears to be quite upset… I do hope she finds who she’s looking for, but that is a bit outside my area of expertise. My hospitality matrix however refuses to allow a customer to leave my desk angry. One moment.” With that he hovered away leaving me and Moonstone alone at the desk staring wordlessly ahead.

“Sketchy?” he started.

“Yeah..” I answered.

“I'm not mad…but..”

“But?...”

“Think about it…” his brows lowered to that nonplussed look he usually gives Lucy.

“Mad that I had a potentially priceless artifact in my saddle bag?” I shrank.

“No…”

“The 300 pages of erotic fanfiction?...” I shrank even more.

“No…”

“The pickles-”

“The 30 pounds of rocks!” He answered making me wince.

“The rocks? Ohh you mean the rock collection I found!” I hovered out the case of sorted rocks I got on my first day in the wasteland. “Found it right after I left the stable, It's a complete collection and everything! It’s even got obsidian and a bauxite sample in there! Pretty cool right?”I beamed glad for the sudden change in topic, pointing at the various ore samples.

“Yes, it’s a very cool rock collection. A 30-pound rock collection that’s been in your bag every time I pulled you guys around!”

All the instances of Moonstone pulling Lucy and I around flashed before my eyes… and I squeaked. Cream-heart’s auto-wagon, the sled, and every time I told him I didn’t have room for more supplies in my inventory. “Oh…”

“Yeah….” he squinted.

I held the rock collection between my hooves, having forgotten I'd been carrying it the whole time. I kinda had to make it up to him now… and I went with the first idea that came into my head! “You want it?-”

“No, I don’t want your rock collection Sketchy…” He sighed.

“Right….” I looked around the shiny room for an answer to the tension. “Is it too late to say that poster wasn’t mine to give away?”

He buried his face into his hooves and let out a long drawn out ‘why me’ groan.. “Then why do YOU have it?”

I whistled innocently. “Cause I found it…” gingerly tapping my hooves together. “Aaaand I thought Button-Mash was dead so… ya know…the bro code applied.”

Moonstone groaned louder sinking deeper into his hooves.

“Aaaand now that he’s alive…I still need to figure out how to give it back without upsetting him.” Winning smile of innocence activate!

“200 years and something as dumb as the bro code still survives in a stable of all things?!” He asked exasperated puling his muzzle from his hooves.

The sheer insult! “It's not dumb! It's…uhh…honorable! N’ stuff!” yeah that’ll teach him…

“Yeah cause a code about covering up your friend's porn habits is ‘honorable’.” he nudged me with a hoof leaving me to swim in the wave of sarcasm. “Well, better the poster than your ‘Harmonite’ amulet right?”

I gasped, hoof going to my chest to hold where the silver star was hidden under my suit! I hissed and squinted at him. “You wouldn’t dare, fiend!”

“Thought so.” He looked over to the drawer where the Rustov stashed the items for later. “I’m sure we can work something out to get it back in the morning. For now, just try and enjoy the hotel. Maybe help keep Lucy out of trouble?”

It sounded fair, the bot did say they needed to get it appraised. Which meant I had time to buy it back. This place worked like a pawn shop, right? “Lucy’s probably harassing guests already. Given how frequently she's been flipping between ‘beloved comrades’ and ‘traitors’ she won't have enough luscious flank to save herself.”

Moonstone raised a brow. “Luscious flank?”

“Don’t act like you don't look too!!” I will not be judged! I’m the judger of not being judged!

Moments later that totally didn't involve discussing each other's flank stares per hour Rustov returned! This time with a well-dressed yellow unimare in a restored black suit and a sparking gold watch. “Why Hello, I’m Yellow Safflower and I came to welcome you to our fine establishment personally.” she beamed gesturing the the glittering hall, making her wavy orange mane bob. “I like greeting irregulars in person, time permitting. Have the staff been treating you well? Offered samples of the pink champagne? It's not the average wasteland flophouse if I do say so myself.”

I may have dabbled too deeply into Dad's big book of social manipulation, but some part of me deep down felt off about her. She was too…nice? Or was she just too hard to read with that constant 4/10 smile? “We're fine.. Just fine… really nice place you got here. I uhh…” I flawlessly executed my ice-breaking skills.

“Ohh I love playing with the shy ones.” she slipped from proper to giddy and leaned in. “Let me guess. Can't find your room? Want a tour of the grounds? Wondering how an establishment this shiny hasn't been raided?”

Great now I was a game to this fancy mare, and as my readers know all to well, now I had to put this mid-30s mare in her place! “Uhhh…. Yesssss?” my raised brow and look of confusion obviously part of my grand plot to school her at her own game! It was another unicorn after all, I need to demonstrate my horn is bigg- I mean that I am the superior master of social interaction!

Rostov’s eye stalks rotated over to the mare. “Madame, I’m remiss to remind you that the reason I requested your presence was for a potential code dandelion.”

“Code dandelion?” I muttered.

She pulled back sliding back into proper mode. “Ah, Yes, yes, Im aware Rusty.” She rolled her eyes with a faint flip of her mane and maintained that smile. “We've got our hooves full with the prince up in the grand hall, we shouldn't get any more guests tonight so would you please attend to him Rustov?”

His many limbs sank like she had just taken the fire out of his furnace. “You know I can’t refuse madame.. As you wish.” He stated begrudgingly before hovering away up the stairs.

“The prince?” I muttered louder, clearly trying to play the confused and helpless angle. I’m not confused, she's confused!”

She turned back to me “Ah, New in town. The stallion to whom I’m referring would be Mkosagi. Or known to the locals as-”

“The prince of Applewood.” Moonstone lamented. “Seriously? Tonight of all nights that playboy is here? And he hadn't put you guys in the red?”

“What the buck kind of name is Mkosaji” I continued to mumble in the background of this conversation.

“He tries.” She smiled with her eyes closed and a little head tilt. “But the Hotel Coltifornia is always up to the challenge and never turns away a guest that can pay.”

Moonstone looked past her and towards the stairs. “And Lucy ran off on her own again. Of course, the prince was going to be on the prowl here too! Now we need to find her before she gets us killed.”

“How dangerous is this guy?” I squinted feeling like a smaller part of the conversation with every passing moment. Until I was about the same size as the tiny princesses flanking me. Each taking turns throwing rocks, paper balls, and scissors over my head.

“Prowly though he may be…” Safflower glanced away as if looking for the right words. “If there’s one Luxury the Hotel Coltifiornia doesn’t have, it’s being able to have opinions about its guests. Caps are caps.” that's when it hit me… this is her customer service smile! “We can discuss the rest during the tour of our lovely hotel. Starting with this Lucy character.” Her horn glowed a pale yellow as she telekinetically brought over a candelabra. “It really is such a lovely place” Such a lovely face.

—

The tour was, fortunately, shorter than I imagined. With a pleasant lack of stopping to look at every little detail, like the fine cutlery, the potted plants, where the dining hall was, the fact they had a functioning pool outside!, and so many chandeliers!! Everywhere I could hear the white noise of pony activity. Hoofsteps and distant conversations, but I never saw anypony else but a hoof-full of guards. We tried to explain the situation with Lucy, her squad, and…

“Her personality?” Safflower added as we walked past yet another flight of stairs undergoing renovation.

“Yeah~” we sighed in unison.

“Let me guess, Stuck up, full of herself, thinks she's the greatest pair of wings to grace the wasteland? Whines like a vineyard?”

“Yeah!” We answered louder.

“Then this truly is a code dandelion…. Hmm…” She hmm’d in thought until I slowly raised my hoof. “Yes?”

“What's a dandelion?”

She blinked. “It’s a flower. Do stables not-”

“Pfffft…” I deflated “I know it’s a flower. I more mean like…” I gestured my forehoves into the outline of a flower. “What kind of flower is it?”

“It's…one of the most common weeds in equestria before the war… quite edible too.”

“I mean what they look like!”

“....seriously?” now it looked like she was trying to stifle a giggle with a hoof to her mouth. “Did your stable not have pictures?”

“We did.” I huffed. “Until somepony ate the pictures out of the textbooks and some dumb kids licked the dandelion murals off the walls!” An egregious loss of art!

“Glad to see you made it out then.” She hummed to herself as guards sidestepped out of our way. “A dandelion generally has one of two forms. It's either a pretty yellow flower… or it's a puff ball ready to explode into seeds. Which do you think belongs in a beautiful bouquet? The flower or the puffball?”

“The flower?”

“Exactly, nopony even fathoms the idea of putting that kind of dandelion in a bouquet. Many ponies even find the notion insulting.”

“And Lucy is a dandelion?...”

“Yes, She has the potential to be one of the best guests or one of the worst guests in my bouquet depending upon how she behaves… which will be dependent on the very fickle mood her kind is known for.”

By now my book was hovering alongside me steadily creating a sketch of the hotel’s exterior from memory. My Tk may have been holding it up but a pair of tiny princesses covered horns to hooves in dandelions held up the corners. I may have also doodled dandelions all over the hotel while I wasn't paying attention.

“Which is why the staff is on hoof to make sure nothing upsets her and she can forget her problems.. At least for a night. She can harass the other pegasi after they leave my establishment.”

“How’d you know she was looking for other pegasi?” I asked peering over my book.

“They started showing up a few weeks ago, and it's been a steady stream ever since, all of them looking for other pegasi, and more than willing to cash out their shiny armor and guns for the safety of our hotel.”

Moonstone pulled ahead to match pace with her. “And what if they can’t pay anymore? Bunch of refugees and deserters gotta go somewhere right?”

With a momentary pause she adjusted the tarnished tie on her suit. “Those whom cooperate are kindly sent on their way to Club Street, often with an escort if the supply caravan happens to be in that day.”

“And if they throw a fit, beg, plead or in general cause a scene? They get thrown out on their collective asses I take it?” he questioned.

“Unfortunately yes. This is a business after all. While we do operate on an ‘all you can smoke, drink, and eat’ basis, if we let any freeloaders stay we’d go under.” she nodded in turn. “The Aristocrats only send us so much food and Club Street gets stingy with their chems whenever we start outselling their pushers.”

Well if this situation isn't just pragmatically awful. On one hoof they’re juicing refugees for all they have before kicking them out on the street. On the other hoof they are running a business and sinking one's business permanently in the name of charity sounds noble… but would make for an awful economy. The self-sacrificing would become the needy and need a new source of food and water.

“Why don't you hire them? Got tons of space and money here. Ponies that can fly are pretty useful.” I suggested imagining pegas flying and hanging banners up and changing light bulbs… wish I had wings when I had to do the light bulbs in 83.

“We did, But only one. He’s become our designated sky patrol. We tried hiring more but by that point so many pegasi were causing scenes that it built up too much animosity with the guards. Hiring another won't be possible for some time, and every pega that mas a meltdown in the lobby over going broke only resets the clock.”

“Well, that sucks….” I muttered into my book taking notes making safflower’s ears flick back.

“Quite.” Yet another fight of stairs but this room wasn't lined with as many doors, just a few large ones and the remains of the elevators. The sound though… the white noise had given way to a muffled thumping and a faint vibration in the walls and floor “And this is the 5th floor. Over on the right you will find the doors to our grand ballroom, not to be confused with the dining room on floor two.”

“What's that sound?” I asked beginning to feel my blood vibrate as we neared the thumping door.

“The prince has… a particular taste in music. Not to mention taste in friends, pleasurable company, chems, spirits, and other such distractions. It's why all the rooms in our fine hotel have been soundproofed.” she smiled, must be a real selling point that anypony can be as loud as they wanted without waking anypony up.

“Why is he here anyway?” Moonstone asked glaring at the door as we passed it. “I was under the impression all the warlords hated each other. I can literally see several shootouts occurring as we speak from this window.” He pointed at a nearby window.

I looked out the window to see the Applewood cityscape in all its wild doughnut-shaped glory. Moonstone was right, as we spoke there were several spots around the city where tracer rounds and magic laser beams were going up in the air, not to mention the flashes of gunfire. The soundproofing on this place must be impressive If I can't even hear the fireworks anymore.

“That's because the Hotel Coltifornia is a ‘neutral’ space.”

I knew it! I knew this mare was born with a heart full of sickening neutrality! She probably wants gold out of this- wait..wait. .. no. that's the pre-war textbooks talking again. It’s not their fault the River Republics were too far away to care and the griffons were mercenaries for both sides. There's also the Kirin…are Kirin real?

“The Hotel Coltifornia Was founded as a joint venture between Club street’s Azadan and the Aristocrat’s ‘Duke’ as a symbol of cooperation for their most recent short-lived alliance. So no particular warlord owns this hotel, even if some would like to try. We maintain a great degree of autonomy so long as we continue to treat all factions equally. Which is why we let the pegasi in even after their little Operation Cauterize had a raptor destroy the eastern stairwell with a laser beam.” she sighed finally letting some disdain slip out before pulling herself right back into customer service mode. “So he’s allowed to be here.”

“Right…” I discovered that I can only write so fast while walking and talking at the same time. In passing I slowly reached for the door. “Can we go in?”

Safflower stopped to turn and briefly look me up and down. “I’d advise against it… you’re not the kind of mare who would enjoy the prince’s special level of fun.”

My curiosity! It buuurned!!! My hoof kept slowly reaching for the door handle, shaking as it got closer only for Moonstone to drag me away. “She’s being serious now. That its not the place for a mare of your constitution.”

“But now I wanna Knoooowwww!!” I flailed my nerd limbs towards the door growing further away. It was unfair! I wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it all night and they knew this! This was vengeance for the rock collection! I should have known he would betray me one day! “Ehhh!! EHHHH!!!”

“Calm down, you’re starting to sound like Lucy.”

I gasped…and faked Lucy’s speech patterns to the best of my ability. “How dare you good sir!”

“Daww, The shy one is a parrot~” Safflower smiled dotingly as I was given progressive rug burn.

“Im not a parrot!” I flailed the whole way up until Moonstone finally dropped me in a room.

“Aaaand here’s your room!” Safflower announced holding the door. “Continental breakfast is from 7 to 10am, and checkout time is at noon. The booze and chems are complimentary, and the room service menu is next to the Tv over there.” she pointed towards the cracked television displaying a ‘technical difficulties’ screen that has probably been on for the past 200 years. “Please talk to the staff if you need anything and enjoy your stay at the Hotel Coltifornia.” followed by her closing the door behind us.

“So…” I started looking around the room. Mostly intact carpet, drapes, a window with only one board over it, and a CLEAN double bed! There was even a plastic potted plant in the corner!

“You go to bed. I’m going to go wrangle a wild Lucy in before she gets us kicked out of here.” the exhausted stallion turned already opening the door. “Please don't be foaming at the mouth when I get back this time?”

“One time!!” I protested shaking a hoof at him. “I try to see if mintals work one time and everypony thinks it's my whole personality!”

Moonstone just looked at me with his dead tired eyes… he didn't have the will to argue with me right now.

“Fiiine!” I threw my hooves up. “I'll just sit here unable to sleep knowing there's some kind of cool party going on downstairs in the ballroom.”

“Right…well if you can’t sleep just use the memory orb in your bag. Basically just as good as sleep.”

“Memory…orb?” I blinked. I Barely knew what a memory orb was much less that I had one!

“Yeah, the one in your inventory. Labeled ‘Daddy’s Morb’” he air quoted before stepping out the door. “No foaming at the mouth when I get back!”

“One time!” I repeated before he was gone. I was alone… and with my track record of times I’d been left alone and unsupervised… I wondered how this could possibly go wrong.

Twas a dark and spoopy night, and my party made the mistake of leaving me unsupervised in an expensive hotel. Woe be unto my plot devices and superficial surroundings! Woe I say! Woe! It began with pacing back and forth, then bouncing on the bed, building a pillow fort, looking out the window, eating a sweet roll I found in a dresser drawer, staring at the TV, inspecting my rock collection, and eventually looking at my Pip-clock to see… 5 minutes had passed. “AGHHH!!!”

Then my potato memory hit me like a tato. I sat up from my respectably flopped position on the bed and started digging through my inventory. Searching….searching… and finding stuff to complain about along the way. “Why is a memory orb under MISC and not the data tab?!” I huffed booping the select button before aimlessly grabbing in my saddlebag with my TK and pulling out a heavy round object wrapped in paper. “Did he plant this on me?” I pondered back to all the times Dad had been close enough to somehow access my inventory. I would have heard his bones pop if he’d snuck up on me… then again.

I remembered all the times he’d startled me, or was just out of view whenever something was going on with me. Like PJ kissing me… or…holy horse apples when he planted this morb on me! Hell, it’s even labeled Daddy’s morb.

I peeled the crumpled paper off it like a fruit and noticed something written on it. I read aloud. “Instructions…” which was followed by a crude step-by-step doodle of a stick-figure unicorn with glasses picking up the orb and booping herself in the horn with it. “Yep…that’s his hoofwriting.” I sighed and looked at the reflective purple sphere. Semi-transparent, flawless aside from a few surface scuffs.

Even I couldn't hurt myself with instructions this simple! I held it between my forehooves and ever so gently booped myself in the horn with it.

Tink!

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Roboticist (rank 1):
Machines will always serve marekind! Your experience with manipulating robots has grown beyond shoving your hoof in them and pressing random buttons! You’ve unlocked several tips and tricks to use on the wasteland’s shelled ghosts. (Harass your GM)

Author's Note

(I graduated! wooo!)

Chapter 13: Mom

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 13: Mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not old…”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he dreaded.

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

He squinted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should have you arrested!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please tell me you didn't-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I KNEW IT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Wild Wasteland!’

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

What the fu-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mom gasped “You traitor!”

“Eating glue?!” Dad repeated louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Bu…what… that's not fair!’

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

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

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

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

Brad?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t find Lucy.”

–Skill Book Acquired!--

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

+1 to stealth.

Chapter 14: Burn it all down.

Fallout Equestria: Lunar archives.
Chapter 14: Burn it all down.
By Lakeel.

“What do you mean you can't find her?” I asked, there couldn’t be that many places a posh pega could disappear to.

“I mean I’ve looked everywhere she’d be and can’t find her,” Moonstone explained opening his bag.

I rubbed my temples between my hooves. “Okay, Where haven't you looked?”

Moonstone pulled a small pamphlet from his pack and unfurled it revealing a pre-war tour map of the hotel. “I got this off the desk bot downstairs. While you were out I systematically combed through almost every room I could access, and nothing.”

I looked up from the map. “Almost every room?”

“All but one,” he admitted reluctantly. “Everywhere else is closed off to everypony but staff and that room is the last place Lucy would be.”

I sleepy blinked at him “Don't make me say it…”

“There’s seriously no way she's in there…” he affirmed yet still hadn’t provided a reason.

“I’m gonna say it…”

“I’m telling you she isn’t in there.” He grumbled.

“That's it! I’m saying it! WHY?! Why for the love of all that is brown in the wasteland is Lucy not in the one room you didn’t search!?” it felt like such an obvious question!.

Moonstone glared for a moment before starting to pace the room. “Cause there’s no way she'd go anywhere near the prince. He’s the physical manifestation of everything she hates.”

The gears were slowly turning. “Dare I ask-”

“He’s a raging uncultured hedonist that's why!” He added stomping his hoof into the ballroom’s location on the map. “There no way in Tartarus Lucy would go anywhere near that guy. He’s got more chems in his veins than blood, more money than sense, and is one of the worst womanizers I’ve ever seen!”

“Sweet zapp apples Moonstone, when did this guy piss in your sugar apple bombs?” I asked watching Moonstone seeth at the idea of this stallion's existence.

This prince guy must have pissed in all of Moonstone’s cereal. “Everything in the world exists for his pleasure or not at all. He fucks any mare within grabbing distance and tosses them aside after. Everyone calls him a prince when all he is is just a rich Daddy’s boy. Prancing around like he’s untouchable and owns everything just cause he’s DR Zeeb’s kid. The Actors aren’t the only faction in Applewood you know! Lucy would never-”

Click! “Hoooo-leeeeee shiiiiiiit.” I put on the brakes as the wires finally connected, the grand realization occurred, and I sat there silently letting my face curl into the curliest of shit-eating grins. I could FEEL the raw smuggium entering my bloodstream and it was better than vintage porn. “This isn’t about the prince!”

He quickly stopped once he saw me sitting there just looking at him with that expression. “What?”

“You don’t give a shit about this prince guy, this is about Lucy leaving.”

He tilted his head a bit confused. “Of course this is about Lucy! She's alone in a place she's never been, pisses everyone off she talks to, and the prince is prowling two floors down!”

“Suuuure it is. Ya know for a pair of ponies that argue nonstop you uhh.. Certainly care a lot about a mare you seem to hate.” am I a bad pony for finding a twisted pleasure in this? Nah!

“Course I care! What kind of mercenary wouldn’t care about his charge three weeks into an escort mission?” He retorted in agitation.

I was trying my hardest not to giggle even if a snort of two slipped through. “You’re worried all it took was not paying for her room to drive her off? After everything we’ve done together?”

“N-no… She's not that petty.” He didn't look so confident in that answer.

“And now you can't find her, and the only room you haven’t checked is the one with the only other stallion with the means of helping her.” sweet sweet smuggium.

“That's…” He looked down at me uneasily. Twas the most uncertain I'd ever seen him. “I want to see the job through. Plus this job has already cost three times more than what she promised to pay.” These pitiful excuses!

“If it’s just about money then I guess the idea of Lucy asking the prince for a loan won't bother you then?~” I smugged up at Moonstone.

There was a shocked silence from the axe-wielding mercenary before me, ending with a little glare cause I was right. “Screw you…”

“Hard and fast please!” I wiggled and felt so accomplished for figuring this all out, am I an ace detective or what? “Why am I, the socially inept one, first to notice you care what happens to Lucy? That she's evolved from being a thorn in your ass to, and dare I say it, a friend?”

Moonstone groaned, taking a deep defeated breath. “Okay yes, I care what happens to her! She’s lost, alone, and has nowhere to turn for help. And I was there! I was the one that helped her. Helped both of you. Cause that's what I do, I can’t help myself!” he started pacing the room faster “You’re both lucky my heart’s too big for my own good. Cause I could, would, and will rescue that stray cat Lucy threatened to leave us over. I’ve never been more terrified of finding a stray kitten! Do you even know what that’s like?!”

“Yeah, my dad has the same problem, seems to be a recurring theme. I think I’ll call it ‘gentle giant syndrome’.” I said arcing my hoof in the air like words would magically glitter into existence on a rainbow. “We both appreciate you Moonstone, For everything. Even if Lucy is terrible at showing it.”

“She could at least try…” he grumbled still pacing. “Why does everything she says have to be an insult? Would it kill her to just say thank you without calling me a barbarian? And why does she keep running face-first into trouble?!”

“Cause that's just how she is.” I nodded “Posh, spoiled, whiney, and despite all that I doubt she's considered bailing on us even once. The sheer number of detours we’ve taken and she’s not only stayed with us but also helped out. Bubble town, the ants, the war fields, and even when the rendezvous failed she stuck with us. She’s not going anywhere.” I smiled feeling a little glow in my chest where my wimpy heart should be.

Moonstone’s tension seemed to fade. “Yeah… yeah you’re probably right. I'd probably feel better if she weren’t so unarmed at the moment. Pretty hard to check mailboxes for bullets when you're pulling an autowagon, 3 ponies, and 30 pounds of rocks.”

I squinted. “You're never gonna let that go are you?”

“Not until you have to carry me somewhere,” he retorted matter of factly.

“Let's go find Lucy before you come up with more impossible demands.” I pouted walking past him and opening the door. “To the ballroom! To save Lucy!” I pointed down the hall, chest puffed out heroically! Until a nearby patron raised a brow muttering ‘wierdo’ and I deflated instantly.

We made our way to the stairs for the only place to check was the ballroom. Noticing a cart full of bottles on the way there I immediately got distracted. “Hey Moonstone…” and looked back at him feeling a lil’ devious. “They said the drinks were free right?”

He looked between me and the drink cart. “Well yes, but I don’t think they want you sacking the place.”

I looked the collection of bottles over. “Then maybe they should have worded the rules better. Especially after you gave them my Sweetie-Belle pin-up. I could take 7 carts and it would barely make a dent in the profit.” I looked up and down the hallway trying to see if any guards were coming before I got shoveling bottles into my saddle bags.

Moonstone signed knowing he wasn’t going to stop me. “Is there any sparkle cola in there?”

“Uhh…” I started looking at the labels. “Vodka, rum, gin, beer, beer, beer, rum, brandy- Aha sparkle colas!” I hovered one over to him before grabbing one of my own. “Never had one of these things before, the stable ran out of ‘em before I was even born.” I inspected the bottle, rotated it, and squinted at the cap. I looked back to Moonstone. “How do you get these off-”

Moonstone already had his head tilted back with a bottle in his mouth and a cap next to his hoof. The stallion chugged the bottle before putting it back down on the floor. “Ahh, much better.”

On the other hoof I looked at the cap on mine, then at him, then the cap on mine, then him again. “How?!”

“Just twist it off, or press the cap to the edge of something.” followed by a small belch as 200-year-old carbonation caught up to his size. “Scuse me..”

I looked back to the bottle and engaged my inner caveman. I put the lip of the cap to the edge of the cart and yanked it down with my TK. The cap popped off and fell to the ground with a little ‘tink!’

“See? Now get that caffeine in you so we can get going.” He gave me a pat, making me feel ever so slightly more accomplished.

I looked at the picture of Saint Fluttershy on the label holding a bottle before I drank deep the nectar of the Ministry of Peace. It was room temperature sure, but it was sweet, fizzing its way down my throat as I held the bottle higher and higher. Finally parting ways with a satisfied gasp. “Ahh… hey this is pretty go- BWWEGGHHH!!” erupted from deep within me, far deeper and more powerful than any other noise I’ve ever made. The kind of belch that rattles your bones and leaves you hollow as a tiny part of your soul escapes. “I feel thinner…” I squeaked, shaking a little. The tiny princesses sitting on the cart gave me a round of applause.

Moonstone looked about as impressed as the princesses. “I had no idea I was traveling with a rare and elusive fog-horn belcher, Lucy would feint.”

“Shut uuuuup!” I protested holding the half-empty bottle to my chest. It was mine!

“All that noise in such a small body… and you don’t have a special coltfriend how?” he was taunting me, I just know!

“Hey! I never said I was single! I have… uhh…” I looked at the floor trying to think of a number. “M-Many special ponies! I’m practically the pimp of 83!” He would totally buy that!

[FAILURE] He chuckled in that deep soul-cutting voice of his. “Yeah, You’re SUPER single.” Fuck me, he didn’t buy it! Deflect! Deflect!!

I quickly looked down at my pipbuck. “Oh darn, would you look at the time! We’re late for saving Lucy!” I quickly shoveled the bottles into my bag, scooped the dropped caps, and escaped briskly down the nearby stairs.

Moonstone caught up to me and I could tell he got into my smuggium stockpiles. I'd just started drinking again when he said “So pimp of 83~ What’s her name?”

I proceeded to start choking to death on sparkle cola. Let it be known to all future courts that review my archive, this was the 2nd time Moonstone tried to kill me! Sweet, sweet sparkle cola spewed all over the fine stairs and a coughing fit ensued. “What?!”

“Thought so.” he smugged walking right past me with nary an explanation. “Those double-hinged barn doors must be nice~”

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean!? You get back here and explain that statement!” I went after him and what followed was a totally me-winning conversation I feel no need to record. At no point was I red as a tato and anyone who says otherwise will be sued for libel.

Still, we made it to the ballroom. Even out here we could hear and feel the faint thumping of music within, strong enough the faintly rattle the gilded door. “Psychoanalysis is my thing…” I pouted taking a seat in front of the door, still no guards around. “So do you have an actual plan? Or do we just walk in there and ask ‘Hey where's Lucy?”

“No that's pretty much it,” he said putting a hoof on the door. “But I will probably kill him if he got a little too hooves-on with Lucy.”

I blinked. “I.. he…” I see Moonstone has reached the ‘damn the consequences’ stage of caring about Lucy. I’d probably do the same to be fair. “Kay…” I squeaked feeling my concern about killing a warlord’s son having long-term consequences fade. I can’t argue with that… “Maybe the Prince isn’t that bad?”

“Doubt it.” he glared at the door. “His reputation proceeds him.” like he was seeing a dozen different foul scenarios that could be beyond the door.

“Right…” I looked around the hall again. “Also, if he’s so important where are the guards?”

“Dont care, You ready?” things really must be bad when I’m the optimistic one.

I got up and tried to brace myself for what I might see inside. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He nodded and pushed the door open.

—-----------XXX—------------
Authors note: Things get a little extreme here and if you the reader aren’t comfortable with subjects like sex, questionable consent, bedroom violence, or excessive drug use, please skip ahead until you see the -XXX- page break again.

I don’t know what hit me first, the music, the smoke, or the view. The ballroom looked like it had been converted into a lounge of sorts for this guy. The music thumped loud enough that I could feel my blood vibrate, it was nothing like anything I’d heard before. A harsh mixture of heavy beats and synthetic sounds, sure instruments were mixed in, but it felt so intentionally broken and electric. It wasn’t bad, it was just intense. The rises made my coat want to stand on end and the drops made me want to bob my head. It was such an off mixture of feelings, I wanted to dance yet at the same time I‘ve never felt more ready to beat the shit out of somepony. I later learned this genre was a hodgepodge of pre-war rave music, remixed by post-war DJs.

Neon lights refracted through the haze of- “Sweet Celestia!” I wheezed, coughing into my wrist from the overwhelming amounts of zebra weed and other fumes flowing out the door. The fog thinned enough to let me see many vase-like objects with nozzles emitting different colored smoke. That's when I saw them, the Prince and his playthings.

I hate being right, and my dropped jaw agreed seeing a stallion surrounded by so many mares. He was large for a pony, but not as big as Moonstone. His mane stood short and straight, colored the same pure white as his coat, but painted tail to snoot in faded grey stripes. They formed rings under his eyes and twisted together on his flanks to form a 5-point star where a cutiemark should be. He’s… A zebra?! Here?! After 200 years?! And currently in the middle of fucking the brains out of some angry pink unicorn under him. First time seeing real sex aside I pushed the thought about ‘how could she take something so thick’ away and noticed something off. His stripes were grey, and zebra stripes were supposed to be black, right? That's how they were always depicted in the posters and books. [10 Intelegence]“He’s… a Zony?!” my exclamation barely heard through the booming bass. My brain scrambled as the odds of his existence grew ever astronomical and Brain kept trying to steer me back to the wonton sex. “Th-that’s a lot…” My hinds winced seeing his much more powerful hinds hilt the unicorn. I’m pretty sure my nose started bleeding at the same rate as the thick white spilling down between the mare’s legs… into a puddle. Saint Rarity would be kicking and screaming in her grave if she saw this.

She wasn't the only mare, the party lounge had about a dozen others laying around in varying states of ‘fucked’. Passed out, making out, or taking puffs from those vace devices, each looking about as cream-filled as the unicorn currently under the prince. In hindsight I’m surprised I thought he would be done after that, but no. First he grabbed the nearest bottle, drank most of it, and threw the bottle to shatter with the rest on the floor. Second, he scooped a hoof full of pills from a candy bowl and popped as many as he could swallow in one go. Third, he grabbed an inhaler, huffed it, and went a bit cross-eyed exhaling a red mist. “Fuuuuuuck~” What a profound yet accurate first word for me to hear this guy say. Fourth!, he pulled out of the unicorn and slammed his cum coated rod back into her rear making her squeal and pull at the ballroom rug while he enjoyed himself.

I was in a den of sin and depravity and I was not prepared…

“Ughh, He’s turned this place into bucking Club Street… Sketchy… Sketchy!” Moonstone shook me by the shoulders. “Focus!”

“Ah!” I jumped shocked back to the reality of our mission “I’m here! I wasn’t staring I….I was judging! Very judging! Did you find Lucy?” I deflected quickly trying to wipe my nose off on my sleeve.

He rolled his eyes. “No, she’s not in here if you haven't noticed. Which means if she was here, that asshole” he points at the bucking prince. “Is the only pony awake enough we can ask.”

“Ask…him?” I said aloud looking between a perturbed Moonstone and the zony prince. “That’s a great idea! You ask him, and I'll be outside where my ass is safe-.” I started to turn for the door when a hoof caught my shoulder and pulled me back. “Oof!”

“Nope, you gotta do it.”

“M-me?” I squeaked trying to crawl back towards the door.

“Yes, you.”

“Why?! You just said he’s a mare eater!”

“That’s exactly why. If I go over there I’m just some dude, but if you go over there. Well, I think a cute stable nerd can make him tell us anything we wanna know.”

“B-but I don't wanna talk to the horny zony!”

“You wanna find Lucy right?” Darn, he had valid points!

“Yeah…” defeated by words and reasoning!

“Then go ask him. Don’t worry, If it tries to mount you I’ll just kill him.” Moonstone gestured to his scrap battleaxe.

I felt slightly safer knowing that. “Fine…” I gulped, steeling myself for the approach. I tippy-hooved over the broken glass on the dance floor, catching the attention of his side-girls. A few sober enough to smirk, blow kisses, and make cat-calls during my approach. But it was the Prince’s attention I needed, and I didn't get it until I was nigh standing in front of him. “Heeeeey… prince guy.” Flawless icebreaker me! Flawless!

The prince looked up from the back of the mare’s head he was STILL PLOWING and blinked. “Who..?” he quickly looked me up and down before lightening up. “Oh heeeey~ You here to join in doll? Another hit of dash and I can give you a round or five. Plus I think Daisy here needs a break.”

The pink unicorn under him groaned and said “I’m.. not.. Daisy.. you.. Ass..hole.” between his thrusts into her rear.

“Oh…oops.” he shrugged looking back to me. “Wadda ya say? Applewood doesn't get a lot of mares that can pull off the fuckdorable nerd look. It’s all in the glasses really. What's your poison? Caps, dash, gin? I think I have some mint-als left.”

I never knew the Goddesses could be so cruel… For the first time in my life, a stallion was legitimately offering to plow me. Not just plow me, but plow me into next week. He’s big, hot, kinda exotic, and hung like a royal guard… he's actively still using a mare in front of me, and I gotta say NO. “Yeah uhh… I… don’t actually work here.”

“Oh… that's cool, that cool. Better even! The offer still stands. Could go back to your room and give the staff something else to clean? Actually…nah, my room is bigger.” he looked like he was pondering something, weighing his options. “Can you wait till I finish with Daisy-Something here?”

“I’m… not…Daisy!” the mare below groaned louder, glaring daggers into the probably ruined ballroom rug.

“Ughh…” he rolled his eyes seemingly annoyed by her corrections. “Uh-huh…sure, and Daisy suddenly stopped being the pink one with the swirlies in her mane.”

I glanced around to note there were 3 different ponies here that fit that descriptor and the unicorn under him wasn’t one of them. “Uhh… anyways. Mind if I ask you something Mr..prince guy?”

—-----------XXX—------------

The zony nodded “Fire away, I got all night babe. Also it's Mkosaji, but you can call me Moko like everypony else,” he said before taking another huff of the inhaler, the 2nd hand of which made me cough and my nose tingle. “The missing vowel at the beginning is murder to pronounce right?”

“Great…” I scratched my mane. Trying not to stare. “Have you seen a pegasus, bout yay tall, purple, whines a lot?”

“Uhh…..”

“Green grapes on her ass.” Moonstone added standing a safe distance behind me.

“Oh yeaaaah!” Moko brightened up as the memory had just been shaken loose. “Yeah, I think I seen her earlier. The tits on her coming to the hotel alone and unarmed am I right?”

[Perception 5] I noticed a few of the mares rousing from their stupor to watch us.

“Did you see where she went?” Moonstone asked sternly, stepping closer.

“Where she went?” Moko muttered thinking. “Oh she’s probably down in the basement with the rest of the pega’s”

“The rest of the pegas?” Why of all places would Lucy be in the hotel basement? Unless..

“Yeah, Dad likes to send me here whenever he needs a few for one of his movies. Something about wanting to incorporate the Enclave into the plot or whatever. But pegasi are kinda rare and this is the only place he can buy ‘em.” he nodded as it all became clear as mud.

“Buy?” I thought aloud but Moonstone clicked sooner and our eyes went wide in realization.

“You aren’t supposed to tell anypony you fuckwit!!” Yelled the not-Daisy under him, her horn glowing and pulling a knife from under the rug. “Kill them!” She barked and by the time Moko looked back down she pulled the same maneuver I did on Brick. The floating knife turned upward and thrust into his throat.

“Wha-Hurkk!” he gagged and coughed, drug-addled eyes wide, and blood spilling from his teeth. All the other mares in the room sprung to life pulling blades out from under pillows, behind cushions, and then some.

We were surrounded, Moonstone drew his axe and I whipped out my flintlock ready to take on the world! [Wild Wasteland!!] Oh who am I kidding, this went to shit about as instantly as you’d expect. Several mares darted for Moko, stabbing him with their steely steely knives so they can kill the beast. GUITAR RIFF! The rest turned on us.

“I didn’t wanna fight hookers today!” I cried getting back to back with Moonstone.

One mare charged, knife in her teeth, only to catch the wide sweep of Moonstone’s axe. The splatter of pony bits across the floor made most recoil and one scream. They learned immediately to keep their distance and did their best to encircle. “Now you really aren’t getting out of here alive!” another yelled before pouncing, knife in her magical grip. Moonstone shifted momentum in time with the music, shortened his grip, and swung the axe up into her letting his grip extend back out.

Note to self, Moonstone is a master of the earth pony sticky hooves technique, and secondly…I now know a mare’s ribcage can collapse like that. Third- Sweet Celestia he just arced the axe over us and brought it down into the floor on the opposite side, cleaving her torso the rest of the way. If I wasn’t busy screaming in panic I could figure out if I was impressed or horribly disturbed Moonstone was that brutal. “And stay back!”

Then there was me, the other target, Moonstone axe could keep many of them at bay with his wide momentous swinging, But I… I had a flintlock that was slow to load. Not the mention inaccurate, I got one shot off which boomed through the room and left a burning hole in the wall, but as expected it went wide.

It certainly made the knife mares duck and look back at the burning hole, but they quickly looked back at me. “That gun is going up your ass.”

I squeaked, rapidly suppressing the mental image of being sodomized with my own gun, to focus on reloading as fast as I could. I’m starting to notice a glaring flaw in my current weapon design… this was a very single-shot weapon in a very full-auto situation. I had to think fast and there was only one thing faster I could think of! Glittering on a nearby table was one of the countless golden candelabras the hotel had laying around, it looked perfect. I hovered over My new weapon, grabbing it between my forehooves like Moonstone. I was about to beat some hookers to death with a candelabra… What has my life come to? Do they count as hookers if they just work here?

We fought back to back, any mare ballsy enough to pounce Moonstone was met with an axe to the everything. It took the four mares giving Moko more holes than a cheese grater rushing in to overwhelm the stallion. He took out one, while two other knives deflected off his armor, and the 4th managed to get him in the leg. He winced, but that powerhouse of a buck managed to drive them off with a buck to the chest. “Ponies are gonna keep dying until somepony takes me to LUCY!” He swung overhead, bringing the axe down and shattering the tiles under a mare that barely managed to roll away in time.

As for my foray into melee, Moonstone's presence and tendency to change direction with ease kept the ones targeting me at bay…somewhat. One got ballsy enough to charge, to which I promptly put a candelabra-shaped indent across her pretty face. Why did they have to be pretty? “Wow, this thing is sturdy…” I looked down at the glorified candle holder, unbent and glittering everywhere blood hadn’t splattered on it. That mare wasn’t dead though, more rolling on the ground holding her face. The rest came soon after, out for my much-needed blood. I got the feeling they were about as skilled in melee as I was, they knew where to put the pointy end, and were smart enough to try avoiding armor when they attacked. So I got swinging! TINK!! THUNK!! TANG! TUNK!! And.. disturbingly, laughing as I did my best to lay into the mares. I felt so scared, yet It felt…so…good! “Sketchy cast smash!! Ahahahahaha!!”

I had one thing going for me, I was smol and nimble compared to Moonstone. In instances where he would have been run through I only got small cuts. Because logically.. I didn’t wanna be stabbed.

I… may have gotten a little too into it. Because I was looming over a mare beating her face in with the base of the candelabra. A visceral display of blunt violence if I ever saw one. The only thing that stopped me was when everything flashed black and white. I was looming over Tulip-Patch again, tray between my hooves, and I stopped…slowly raising the tray to see a bloody unmoving Tulip. I felt that familiar pull on my shoulders, and reflexively… instinctively.. I swung the tray trying to get that last hit in just like last time. The world slowed and on connection, reality flashed back to full speed, right as the base of the candelabra struck another mare across the face, sending blood and teeth flying while the rest of her dropped. “Fucking Kill!!”

“Sketchy!” Moonstone had been the one who yanked me off the mare in time to keep me from getting stabbed by the one I just hit.

“Ah! Who? What!?” I fell on my rear rapidly looking around the room, seeing the bodies and several mares running out the ballroom door.

“The hell was that?! She was already dead!” He questioned making me look back at the mare on the ground. Her head, her skull… everything neck-up was reduced to chunky salsa dripping from my new candelabra.

I looked back at him. “I… I may have gotten a little carried away.” was the lightest way of putting it as I bit my lip, looking back and forth between my weapon and the body.

“Berserk is more like it.” he sighed setting down his axe now that we were alone “It looks like we need to fight our way down to the basement now.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck…” I groaned as my mental map of this place took form just to make me feel bad about how many floors up we were. My pupbuck dinged!

Quest updated: Hotel Coltifornia!
-Go to The Hotel Coltifornia. (complete)
-Find Enclave Members.
-Rescue Lucy.
-(optional) Meet Lemon Haze.

“Fuuuuuck me sidewaaaays!!!” I groaned louder after reading the quest! “Yep, she’s been captured. Pipbuck says so.” I wiggled said wrist terminal towards Moonstone for emphasis.

“Yeah, these things are suspiciously all-knowing.” He looked down at his own, lifting the plate. “Mine just updated too and judging by the EFS we have about a minute before the whole hotel bursts in here to skin us.”

I too saw many yellow blips along the top of my vision turned red, many swirling around like they spinning in place.. Or more likely going up stairwells. “Okay.. gotta think, gotta act, gotta think, gotta act, gotta think, gotta- AHA!!” my horn glowed summoning forth a cartoonish lightbulb above my head.

“I see you have an idea…” Moonstone commented looking up at the bulb.

“I do!” After I yeeted the bulb across the room, shattering it into magic dust before I started pulling bottles of booze from my bag. “If we can’t fight them all, let’s give them something more important to worry about!” I beamed with the dumbest grin I could manage.

Let it be known that the first idea I had was to use waffles in place of bread on a sandwich, but my more useful idea was- “I cast YEET!” I yelled throwing another molotov into a stairwell outside the ballroom. Said ballroom was ablaze, the hallway behind us was on fire, and every stairwell that we passed was turned into a smoke chute. Since my kiln spell was just a combination of basic ignition and compression spells it could be used to light things on fire. Like molotovs! Stalliongrad sure knows how to throw a revolution!

The plan was as simple as I was important. If we can't fight all the guards, make the guards worry about something else… like say, a massive fire(s) in their 200-year-old hotel full of flammable expensive things. Rugs, curtains, beds, carpet, wood, and more served as fuel for our great escape! And with no easy access to water for the sprinklers, the best they could do is bucket water from their fountain on the ground floor. The last thing they’d expect us to use is the actual fire escape!

Down we climbed the ancient fire escape and whenever we passed a new window, another molotov went inside. Sure it creaked and groaned under Moonstone’s weight but the hotel’s efforts to restore the exterior made it sturdy enough.

“Shouldn’t we have taken Moko with us?” I asked throwing another molotov through the window, much to the screams of fancy slavers inside. “We kinda just left him up there…”

“Sketchy, The guy had no redeeming qualities and was full of holes. Do we need to bury every pony you learn the name of?” He rebutted, having a point.

“Well no… but it still feels weird leaving him there like that. What if ponies think we killed him? Didn’t you say he was some warlord’s kid?”

Moonstone rolled his eyes lowering the ladder down to the next floor. “They’d blame the hotel first. That and I’m pretty sure he got what was coming to him.”

I climbed down first. “You are being unusually crass about this whole situation. What happened to the big cuddly stallion that would save kittens and reunite ghoul families?”

He followed after. “I still am, just for ponies that deserve it. I’d be super worried for everypony inside the hotel here, if they didn’t turn out to be the slavers that kidnapped Lucy! Not to mention all the other refugees that came here for help.”

“Okay fair, but-”

“There you are!” Yelled a brown uni-stallion in black barding knocking open the window with the butt of his shotgun.

I reacted like I usually do to sudden surprises like that. By totally not screaming and smashing the molotov I was about to throw on his face.

The stallion screamed, firing his gun wide before dropping it as he fell back on the floor. “Sweet fuck AGHHH!! I'm on fire!! Help! HEEEELP!!” he rolled spreading the burning alcohol across the carpet making his situation drastically worse.

I winced watching him kick and scream trying to put himself out. “Ooooh…”

“Welp, if your little scream didn’t alert them we were out here, his certainly did.” once again Moonstone has thrown my ego under the minecart. “Grab his gun and let’s go.” he ordered already lowering the next ladder.

On the bright side… or well, less bright than the flames, Free gun! “Yoink!” First time getting my hooves on a proper gun. I ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’d at the pre-war weapon. A pump shotgun like the one’s security sometimes puts beanbags in. I doubt this one was full of beanbags though as I gave it a pump and a lone red shell fell out. “Huh… neat!”

Two more floors and we made it to the courtyard that surrounded the building. A little garden area of potted plants and hedges arranged to hide the presence of a storm cellar-like door… poorly. Looking up the fire had clearly spread as flames gushed from the windows of the 5th floor and up. Yep, they aren’t putting that out, but it also meant we had time!

I say that until a gaggle of guards rounded the hotel corner and simply unloaded in our general direction. “Kill the bastards!”

“Ahh!!” I admittedly screamed diving behind some particularly thick-looking pots. Bullets peppered the other side shattering clay, shredding the plant above, and lodging themselves in dirt.

Moonstone had done the same, but he was far less equipped than I to deal with ranged combatants. This time it was on me to save the group…no pressure!

A strange purple fruit exploded above me while I pulled out the rest of my molotovs. Seven bottles of potential booze I could have drank for the first time now used to save my life. With seven rags lit I threw them in rapid succession towards the guards. Several went wide, and several more landed around the guard's feet making them back off, but one genius among them had the glorious idea to shoot the last molotov. Once again it rained fire in Equestria!

The guards scattered, yelling profanities as they tried to put out the small bits of fire falling on them. Twas then I recalled a little field trip we took to security back in Elementary school. Ohh there's that wavy scene transition again!

Wed been gathered one of the security ponies, I think her name was Candy-Gavel or something, for a little demonstration. “Remember kids, we never know when zebras might try to attack the stable, so it’s always good to learn firearm safety at an early age.” she stepped into the shooting range and closed the ballistic glass door behind her. She went over what safeties universally looked like, the difference between mouth grips and unicorn grips, and the ‘deadly laser’ method, but then came the last thing. “Now remember kids, make sure to let go of the trigger before you pump the shotgun again or-” She did exactly that and the gun went off. “It’ll fire immediately and you might hit a friend. Only do it when a zebra is in front of you, even if they call it cheating. Now who wants to play with an inert grenade?” She smiled and the class cheered, begging for the dud grenade… I didn’t get a turn with the grenade.

And in this situation…those guards sure looked like zebras invading the stable. “WREEEE!!!” I charged from behind my pot leveling my newly acquired shotgun. Cone of fire = Less need to aim. Cone of fire also = poor armor penetration. However, armored guards - any real head armor + less need to aim = Shoot them in the face. See? Violence and math can be fun!

If aiming for body shots wouldn't kill them with all that ballistic barding on, I'd simply aim for their less ballistically barded faces. I pulled the trigger and-

BOOOOM!!

A cone of lead and sparks spewed out the end of the barrel, booming deeper than my flintlock but nowhere near as loud. I felt the kick of recoil strain against my telekinesis as pellets shredded the face of the closest guard, blowing it off in a fraction of a second and knocking him on his side. One down, several to go. I swung the barrel towards the next one and slammed the pump down. And I kept slamming the pump down until I was sure that guard was down for the count before moving on to the next. 1-3 shotgun shells to the face seemed to be enough to bring these guys down even when they had helmets. By the end I was left standing there, panting, with a smoking gun and surrounded by spent shells. “Sweet.. Luna’s embrace… it’s finally over.”

Moonstone peered from behind his pot, looking around at the strewn-about guards, dead or groaning as they bled out. “That was uhh… How’d you know about slam firing? Thought you never held a gun before.”

“Elementary…school..” I panted looking back at him, splattered in the blood of my enemies. Wiping my glasses off as I drug myself back to the cellar door. “Now let's get Lucy before I start thinking about all the ponies I just killed.” Brain was developing quite a backlog of issues to deal with never.

Of course the cellar door had a lock on it, what kind of door to a secret slave basement wouldn’t have a lock on it? I looked to Moonstone. “You uhh… wouldn’t happen to know how to pick locks would you?”

“Only padlocks..” he gave his axe a little wiggle. “How about you?”

“Not really… I could stick a screwdriver in it and see what happens. Or we could ask Lucy to… oh riiiight.” I sighed, defeated once again by the lack of lockbreaking skills. “Got a crowbar?”

“Nope.” he looked around. “Maybe a key is under one of the potted plants?”

“We don’t have that kind of time, This place had like…” I counted on my hooves. “At least two dozen guards and we've only killed like…” I turned and counted the bodies real quick before spinning back. “Six! I’d shoot the door open but the gun is empty and-” I paused and blinked. I had 1 shell left, the one I ejected when I first took the gun. Silently I hovered it out of my bag and after some fiddling slotted it in. “Not a word…”

“Have you always had the short-term memory of a goldfish?”

“N-no!” I pressed to barrel of the pump-shotty to the lock and fired. Behold a new hole where the lock used to be! “And to prove it!” I quickly ran over to the bodies and started grabbing their guns and bullets. “Yoink!Yoinkity!Yoink! Mine! Mine now!” one tried to get up as I was looting him, but one quick bonk to the noggin put him back down. “And stay down!”

I went back to the door squinting at Moonstone. “See! Short-term memory perfectly functional.” I huffed.

“Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. I just figured you'd notice you had a shell left from the ammo counter in the corner of your EFS.” He pointed out making me blink as he opened the door. I always wondered what that little counter was for…and now when I held the shotty it said 0/17.

Deflect! “Oops would you look at the time, now we're really late for rescuing Lucy!” I trotted right down the cellar stairs with Moonstone chuckling behind me as he followed.

—------------------------------------------

Okay, of all the things I expected to find down here, a veritable forest was not one of them. A sprawling room filled with row after row of suspended green plants, ultraviolet lights, and tubes spraying a gentle mist from the roof. The air was thick with the pungent smell of the hydroponics bay back home. So earthy and… lemony? I took another sniff, looked at all the lined-up plants, and noticed the telltale 5 leaves on each one. “Oh shiiit that's a lot of zebra weed.” I wandered in.

“Yeah, I heard they kept a grow house down here. I’ve just uhh… never seen it.” He seemed nervous, cautiously looking around every corner.

“Hard to imagine they keep slaves down here with all these plants-”

“Moonstone?!” a mare yelled when we passed by one of the many isles of zannabis. We both froze and with eyes wide as dinner plates looked left to see ‘not Lucy.’ Standing there spitting a water hose out of her mouth was a lemonade yellow mare with a messy cyan mane. She had a belt of gardening tools around her waist, dirty hooves, and a lemon atop a 5-pointed leaf as her cutiemark. “You fuck! Showing your face in my grow house?!” The angry pone already storming down the hall.

Moonstone looking scared and backstepping was the last thing I needed to see in a situation like this. I pulled out one of the bloody assault rifles I just got and started fiddling with it. “How do use?! Which one is the safety?! Rack this, slide this? No-” I squeaked as a yellow hoof pushed the barrel of the rifle down to the ground and I looked up to see the mare glaring past me.

Moonstone having backed into a grow-rack chuckling and smiling nervously. “Oh hey, Lemon… How ya been? It's been a while-”

“Oh don’t you bucking use that cute smile on me marefucker! What gives you the audacity to come back here after what you did?!”

Moonstone shrank. “I uhh.. We’re just trying to save our friend Lemon-”

“It’s Lemon-Haze to you bucko! And who’s the pipsqueak here, she’s a bit compact for what you usually go for.”

Sketchy64.exe was struggling to keep up with all this new information and queries each of them sparked. “H-hold up… what could the nicest stallion I’ve ever met have done to you that you didn’t deserve?!”

“Nicest stallion in Applewood sure, Nicest stallion to ever fuck me over too!”

I gasped and turned to my companion. “Moonstone?! How could you!” I had no idea he had a dark side all along!

Moonstone scooched back further raising his hooves defensively. “Now Sketchy it's not how she makes it sound-”

“And my Mom!”

My neck snapped back. “Wait what?”

“And three of my sisters!” Lemon haze continued stepping towards Moonstone.

“What the fu-”

Moonstone gulped as the smaller unarmed mare got even closer and he had nowhere else to back away to. “Lemon-”

“Lemon haze!”

“L-Lemon-Haze…I told you I had no idea you were related. Each of them needed help with something and one thing led to another. I-”

“Horseapples! What you did-”

“That's it!” I broke in “ Will sompony please tell me what's going on here?!” I waved my hooves until I accidentally dropped the gun and it put a round into the ceiling. “Oops..”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “He fucked me. What else is there to it than that?”

“That tells me literally nothing!” I kept waving my hooves for emphasis. “Did he shoot you? Rob you? Sell your family to raiders? How did he fuck you over?!”

She blinked and looked at me a bit confused. “Uh…Literally.”

My mind screeched to a halt. “Lit-.. He what?...” Error! ERROR!! Emergency eject Brain! Emergency eject!

“Plowed me into a puddle admittedly.” She rolled her eyes and gave her rear a little bounce to clarify the meaning. “But big, cute, and hung over here also dicked his way through the Haze family tree. Don’t know what I expected from a stallion who won me over with honeyed words, manual labor, and that damned smile!” She bapped a hoof to Moonstone’s snoot keeping him silent. “Let me guess, he makes your hinds dangle off the ground too?”

“N-No?” I tilted my head. “He saved my life from a cannibal though, been traveling together ever since. I mean sure he’s hot, and I’m absolutely a sucker for big stallions… but I’ve never slept with him, and I doubt Lucy has either.”

Lemon’s eyes shifted back to Moonstone. “Lucy?”

“Hmfff” Moonstone muffled through her hoof trying to give her a pleading look with those blue eyes. To which Lemon-haze begrudgingly removed her hoof. “First of all, Purple, Ripper, and Amnesia all came onto me, because YOU bragged about ‘barely having to wiggle your ass to land a caravan guard.’” he air quoted glaring at her.

“I did not!” She retorted getting in his face.

“Oh please! All four of you laid it on thicker than your product!” he growled. “Suffocating!”

“Guys!” I interjected pushing them apart and looking between the two.. “If you’re not going to move on to the 2nd thing about rescuing Lucy. Could you please start making out so I can draw it?”

Lemon haze blinked down at me. “Yeah, you definitely ain't fucked her if she's that cool with sharing you. That or she’s freaky…”

“The second thing..” Moonstone started pushing the mare’s dirty hoof further away. “Did the hotel staff bring a purple pegasus down here? Was probably screaming and calling them dirty surfacers? We’re…here to rescue her.”

“Again,” I added.

“Again..” Moonstone sighed. Lamenting the sheer number of times Lucy needed to be saved…usually from herself.

“So you’re plowing posh turkeys now?” She questioned raising a brow.

“Pffft no!” I pshawed! “They hate each other!” I giggled pointing at Moonstone. “They argue constantly, insult each other, disagree on everything, and fight like a married couple. Not a day goes by without them being at each other's throats at least once… But she’s our friend so we're here to rescue her.”

Lemon looked back to Moonstone growing a little smirk. “I see~ So handsome here finally met his match huh?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “She’s the best thorn in the ass we’ve ever had! Now if you could just point out where all the slaves are kept we’ll be on our way.” Maybe the happy-go-lucky routine will work on a mare like her.

She pondered the idea for a moment, mainly looking over Moonstone and smirking deviously before she shrugged. “Ehh, buck it. Third row from the back, left side, you'll find a metal door down to a pre-war pump room the staff turned into a prison. Turn the handle three times to the right and once to the left to open it. Go down the stairs, and you'll find the cells. Keys are on the wall.”

“Cool!” I started to walk off in the direction before coming back to ask. “Why the sudden urge to help us? Not that I don’t appreciate it, but don’t you work here?”

“Work for them?” she pointed up at the roof. “Nah, fancy pricks won't let me stay in one of the rooms. They just let me grow down here so long as I give them a supply. But now that the building’s on fire I suddenly don't get paid enough to give a shit.”

“Oh… cool! You escaping too?”

“Probably, Just giving my crop a quick shower before I run off with my seed pods. I’ll Come back later to salvage the hydroponics. Speaking of which, in the back of the pump room you can use the wastewater access hatch and take the sewer pipe outside. Let's out right behind the hotel.”

“Even better!” I cheered before turning towards the pump-room/prison door. “Thanks Lemon Haze! Hope you don’t burn!” I called trotting right along.

I swear I could have heard the sound of a flank getting swatted, and Moonstone making a small yelp once I was out of view. Lemon giggled and said “Go get ‘er thunder nuts. Always knew there was a reason you nearly broke Purple-Haze’s back.” but that was probably Brain being a pervert again.

Quest updated: Hotel Coltifornia!
-Go to The Hotel Coltifornia. (complete)
-Find Enclave Members.
-Rescue Lucy.
-(optional) Meet Lemon Haze. (complete)

—-----------------------------------

Over the hills and through the woods I found a door of iron!~ With three turns right and one back left a winding staircase I hath earned~ Pipes strewn left, and pipes strew right, like only the roots of the city could contain Lucy’s gripe~ I dashed and I pranced, down into the deep, to the land where the radroaches creep~ Low and behold, here among the mold, was a great mist that-

My whimsical bout of poetry was ruined by the sudden coughing fit brought on by the wave of smoke that poured out of the room. Once it cleared I saw the squalor the mists had hidden. The concrete room was lined with impromptu prison cells packed to the brim with pegasi lying around wherever they could. Across from the cells was a table loaded down with half-destroyed Enclave gear. Scuffed-up black plates, broken laser weaponry, disassembled helmets, and more lay as a testament to the hotel’s reverse engineering experiments. At the far end of the table, I found the source of the prisoner's drowsiness. A vase contraption like the ones from the ballroom but with the lid left open to fill the room with smoke. Lemon Haze’s product was being used to keep captive pegasi docile until buyers showed up.

After a few coughs and snuffing burner, the smoke cleared the rest of the way. “Okay…which one of these poor souls is Lucy?” I scanned the prisoners whilst Moonstone got the keys off the wall to open the cell. Even with the doors opened the Enclave prisoners barely moved, groaning incomprehensibly and muttering about food. At the far end of the cell slumped against the wall was our quest target- I mean friend! Lucy!

“It’s about time you got here!” she huffed getting up and looking a lot more sober than everypony else. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show up.”

“Lucy! You seem…” Moonstone started.

“Sober…” I finished.

“Of course I’m sober!” Said the mare with only mildly bloodshot eyes. “It’ll take something far stronger than this weak trash to make me anything less than a composed and proper lady. Humph!” she puffed her chest out and did a little flutter of her wings to all dignified. Yep, that's our Lucy. Lucy’s resistance to Zebra weed aside she stepped out of the cell with a dignified humph and took her things from the top of the enclave salvage pile. That is until she noticed blood running down Moonstone's leg. “Beating wings!” she darted over. “When did you get stabbed?!”

“About…” I tapped a hoof to my chin. “10 minutes ago I think?”

“And you didn’t bandage him?!” she protested opening her medkit and fishing out the aforementioned bandages. “And why are both of you covered in blood? What happened?!”

“Well, it started with looking for you..” I scratched my mane. “And ended with us killing a bunch of hookers.” I gave my winning smile hoping I wouldn't have to go into more detail.

She just looked back at me and squinted with those judgemental green eyes of hers as she bandaged the leg.

“Okay, so the hookers started it!” is always a good way to start any explanation. And try to explain what happened I did, to the best of my ability at least.

By the end of the story, Lucy blinked looking at me swinging the candelabra for effect. “I’m away for an hour.. so you beat the local courtesans to death with a candelabra and lit a pre-war motel on fire. Because rampant arson was your first idea?”

“Well it wasn’t my first idea, using waffles in place of bread on a sandwich was my first idea, but that about sums it up yeah.”

She blinked. “I can’t leave you two heathens alone can I?”

“And we ran into Moonstone’s ex-fillyfriend.”

“You WHAT?!” Lucy yelled suddenly tying off the bandage really tight making Moonstone wince.

“Yeah, she's this really nice mare that apparently grows all the zebra weed ‘round here.” I wiggled in place recalling a few moments ago. “She told us how to get down here, where the keys were, and how to escape the hotel!”

“She did, did she?” Lucy glared up at the stallion she was bandaging.

Even Moonstone's sweat drops were big! “Now Lucy it’s not like that. It was a long time ago and she just happened to be working here.”

“Uh-huh, sure, Well talk about this later.” she leaned in before huffing and turning back towards the jail cells. “Now to get all these drug-addled misfits out of here before the building burns down.”

“Great idea!” I chimed in with a smile before dropping it instantly. “How? They're all stoned off their collective asses. I think that one over there might be dead- wait no he twitched.”

“Simple. I know something that always works, just give me a moment,” she said putting a wing to her chest. “Ahem.” she cleared her throat a little while the anticipation built. “Ahem!” she did it a little louder glaring at the pile of pegasi. “Hardball it is then…” She took a deep breath before bursting into a much deeper commanding voice. “Wake the FUCK up maggots!” banging a hoof on the prison bars.

The stoned pegasi started scrambling to get up on their hooves with many falling right back over only to try again.

“I said wake your sorry asses up NOW! Every last one of you, except Noctilucent, is a waste of the space the Enclave has given you! You are a disgrace you worms with wings! I want to see each of your sorry asses outside in 5 minutes or I will pluck you alive and send you home to your mommies! DO you hear MEE!!”

“Y-Yess Sirr!” The pegas slurred and struggled to salute Lucy before tumbling out of the cell, grabbing the remains of their gear from the table.

Lucy leaned back toward me and whispered. “Which way is the exit dear?”

“Back up the stairs, sewer hatch on the other side of the pump room.” I whispered back.

“You heard the lady maggots!!” She resumed. “Get your kit and get ready for tube drills! Cmon! Those filthy surfacers can't hide in their caves forever! They ain't gonna wait on you! Go!GO!GO!!!”

The pegas flocked towards the door scrambling to get down the hall and run towards the sewer access point. To which I said “Wow…Were you a security head or something?”

Lucy coughed a little into her wing. “Oh hardly, I simply mimicked what Captain Hardass- I mean our old drill sergeant sounded like. He made sure the fear of senior officers was grilled into every last recruit. Well except me, Daddy made sure he wasn’t mean to me.” she smiled and made her way to the door. “Coming? I have a bunch of druggies to herd.”

“Spoiled daddy’s girl…” Moonstone grumbled to himself following along.

I quickly scooped what was left of the enclave gear into my bag and ran after. “Coming!”

Just as Lemon-Haze said, the pump room had sewer access that led straight outside to a little cliff area behind the hotel. Good thing all the sewage has had 200 years to wash away and decompose. Might have been smelly otherwise. And sitting on the edge of the pipe watching stoned pegas jump and fall off the end of the pipe was Lemon-Haze.

“I see you found your special friend~” Lemon smirked and gave us a little wave.

Lucy paused for but a moment, looking straight at mare. “Is that her?” I swear I could have seen some kind of dark aura coming off the pega, that or all these second-hand chems were finally getting to my head.

“That’s…” Moonstone started but Lucy already started walking right up to Lemon-Haze. The two stared each other down, getting snoot to snoot, and squaring up.

Moonstone raised a hoof “Uhh Ladies, can we just calm-”

“Shut it!” They said in unison focusing on their stare-down.

I looked between all three of them feeling some kind of tension I couldn’t quite place a hoof on. “I don’t know what's going on… but could you two please kill each other or make out?”

They briefly looked at me and then back to each other. “Darling has a point,” Lucy stated. “Your product is subpar.”

“Course it was. They figured my bad batches would be enough for turkeys like you.” Lemon haze countered.

“Guess I’m just better than all the other pegasi then.” the two circled each other, looking each other over, glaring all the while and slinging insults back and forth.

“You find out about his collection yet?” Lemon smirked.

“Yes, and I think it’s rather cute, even if a bit uncultured compared to the true classics.”

“Hmm… good. Star-Trot or Star-Mares?”

“Trick question, canonically the same universe after the 1027 crossover. Confirmed during the 1038 Star-Mares convention, with plans for a sequel announced just before the bombs dropped.”

“Ohh smart turkey. Well informed for something you consider uncultured.”

“The books were better.” Lucy scoffed.

Lemon feigned a gasp. “Truly a mare of culture.” a smile crept onto her face. “Good enough in my book, you have fun with thunder nuts, and don't let him abuse that pretty boy smile too much.”

“Humph! I have no idea what you’re alluding to. His smile is average and he is simply a work friend.” Lucy folded her forehooves in raw indignation.

I can only take so much confusion before I hurt myself! “What are you two even talking about?! I’ve been lost this entire time! Are you gonna kill each other or not?!”

They looked back at each other before Lemon spoke up. “Nah, I think we're done here.”

“Quite.” Lucy pomped before jumping off the edge of the pipe and gently gliding down atop a pile of crashed pegasi, walking her way down, and stepping on many a face along the way.

The rest of us non-fliers hopped down right after much to the ‘oof!’s of the pegas we landed on.

I looked back at the Hotel California seeing how it turned into a gilded conflagration. Flames spewed from every window third floor and up while many ponies made use of the fire escape like Moonstone and I. Then I remembered, I’d forgotten something. “Luna’s horn spinning in my ass!!! I forgot Button’s Poster!” I cried pulling at my mane as I looked up at the towering inferno.

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Scrounger(rank 1)

You’ve gotten better at finding Ammunition. Containers and NPCs will likely contain far more ammunition even if you can't justify why the raider with a pipe pistol has 73 plasma cells.

Achievement Perk!: Burning down the house! (Rank 3)

-Just take the ‘Burn!Burn!Burn!’ perk already! +15 to fire resistance.

Chapter 15: Dead Zebra Storage (Part 1)

Fallout Equestria: Lunar archives.
Chapter 15: Dead Zebra Storage. (part 1)
By Lakeel.

The pistol clicked as Lucy slotted in another spark battery. “I can’t believe we're going back for a poster of all things.”

“Well believe it.” I groaned looking up at the burning building down the street. “The bro code must be honored!” I pointed ahead posing heroically before looking back to see Moonstone and Lucy looking at me in half-lidded disappointment.

“This is a really dumb idea,” Moonstone grumbled following along. Clearly he didn’t value the sanctity of the bro code!

“Dumb yes,” Lucy assured walking right past me and taking my steam with her. “, but it is rather cute how honorable our little Sketchy is being about it. Don't you agree?”

“Yeah,” Moonstone added as they walked past me like I wasn’t even there. “Can’t believe the Bro code survived in a stable of all places.”

Lucy continued to vigorously wipe off the mouth grip of the mew-pistol as we walked. Her ‘comrades’ were too stoned to miss it anyway. “You'd be amazed what pre-war philosophies survived the passage of time, even if bastardized by two centuries of wasteland barbarism.”

“True, I mean just look at those Applejack’s Ranger types.” Moonstone shrugged before looking up at the burning tower. “Think they suspect we started it?”

Lucy thought for a moment. “How many did you kill?”

“Six!-..err.. Seven!” I answered running up between them. “But they started shooting first, so it was totally self-defense, So…. [10 INT] Yeah they know we set the place on fire…”

“We?” Moonstone questioned incredulously.

“Yes, we! I’m lumping all the dead hookers onto the reasons for them to kill us.” I clarified pulling out my flintlock and starting to crank up a charge.

“Sketchy, calling them hookers is rude,” Lucy chastised. “They were clearly well-paid and respected courtesans working at an establishment such as this. Or at least what this establishment was..”

“Okay, WE killed MOST of the ‘courtesans’, and ONE of them got away because you were busy turning into a little blood rager.” How dare Moonstone enunciate his valid points!

“Yeah.. well…” I quickly looked around for a comeback before looking at the unmanned hotel gates. “Hey look, the mercs are gone!”

“And it seems the patrons are fleeing too,” Lucy added watching fancily dressed ponies frantically load their belongings into the wagons outside the wall. “Could use the chaos to sneak in if you think anypony might try to stop us.”

“Hmmm..” I squinted at the scene before me, plotting, planning, and looking for any of those mercenaries, but I only saw hotel staff bucketing water out of the fountain.

“I counted two dozen Black-Barding mercs guarding the place, and Sketchy killed seven of them at least. And I don’t know many merc companies would be willing to stay around after losing both their paycheck and a quarter of their marepower.”

“So they’re gone?” that would be too easy…then again. I looked back up at the tower to note the pillar of crimson the upper floors had become. “Yeah, I think time to check out before the hotel does.” Goddesses that felt so cool to say, even the little princesses had sunglasses on and were doing poses.

“You’ve been sitting on that one-liner all evening haven't you?” Asked Lucy shooting my ego in the hoof once again.

“Yes…” I lamented. Why am I such an easy target universe?! WHY?!

With the mercs gone and the door-mares busy running water, we entered unopposed. The lobby was in chaos, with ponies running water up the stairs and frantic guests running down. If they weren’t swarming the reception desk for refunds they were booking it for the carriages. The poor Mr Hoovsey was being overwhelmed by the masses yelling and demanding their deposits back.

“Oh the folly of mare, This place could collapse at any moment, and they’re trying to get a refund.” I mused shaking my head in abject disappointment of the massed ponies. They didn't have long If the orange glow from the grand stairwell was any indicator.

“Call the kettle black much?” Lucy commented stopping next to me to watch the crowd of patrons making a run for it. “We're here for a refund too in case you forgot.”

“That’s totally different.” I squinted. “I actually know you guys. And it's my stuff locked in that desk so I’ll be damned if I don't get my refund. And what’s a kettle?!”

“Daww who’s a good little hypocrite~” She teased patting me with her wing. So soft…

I squinted harder “Your Med-X is in that desk too.”

Lucy doubletook between me and the desk before darting over the crowd. “Excuse me, out of the way, Lady coming through, checkout please!” Sadly the crowd proved too much for our hoity-toity pega, pushing her back as the masses clambered. She returned with a huff “Why I never! The nerve of these wasteland savages is inexcusable.” She quickly resumed patting my head with a wing. “Sketchy would you be a dear and do that thing you do? Pweeese?”

I swear patting me has become the universal solution to making me do things. Curse you praise kink! I sighed and walked ahead pulling out my flintlock. “Yeah just gimmie a sec.”

Rustov was indeed overloaded as his eyes and limbs spun trying to handle keys and customers as fast as he could, looping through the hotel's customer service policy and gently pushing the occasional patron back over the desk. “One moment everyone, Would you please form a neat and single file line? I will get to you in proper-”

PWOOOOM!!!

The streak of red energy shot up into the gilded ceiling drawing the attention of everpony in the lobby to the scrawny nerd with the gun that smoked inside and out. “My friend said EXCUSE ME!!” I growled walking ahead as the masses parted around me.

Lucy and Moonstone followed me up to the reception desk where I could reach a hoof up to the desk bell and give it a little DING!~ while a chandelier with a molten chain crashed to the floor behind us.

Rustov turned. “Ah yes, Welcome to the Hotel Coltifornia. I’m sorry if your wait was a tad long this evening, but business has really been heating up HoHo~. We get so busy when conventions come to town.” He gave a little nod of his top-hat. “Have you been enjoying your stay ma'am?”

I took a deep breath, composed, and brought out the calm and self-confident visage of a mare on the verge of murder. “Unfortunately no. Due to extraneous and external circumstances, we need to check out early. I do believe establishments such as this have a return or refund policy? Especially if one has only been checked in for-” I checked my pipbuck. “Three hours?”

“Oh my that is rather unfortunate. We here at the Hotel Coltifornia strive to achieve every amenity and comfort imaginable. I’m so sorry you weren't able to stay longer. While our Re-Re-Re-Return policy doesn’t apply in cases of emergency such as fire or invasion by multidimensional beings, it is in place for customer dissatisfaction and/or schedule changes. One moment please while I fetch your belongings.” The bot hummed casually as he spun around to the deposit boxes. “37b…37b… which of these keys was 37b…” Rustov mumbled fiddling with a key-ring of countless identical keys with his singular claw hands. The hotel would burn down by the time he was done!

Many in the crowd bolted while a few still griped in the background that we were getting special treatment. All eyes were on us and I knew the intimidation from the flintlock shot wouldn't last forever. Things could easily get worse…

“Is everypony having a lovely stay?!” Lo and behold, things got worse! Coming down the grand staircase in her now mildly burnt suit was Yellow-Safflower with a big fat golden revolver floating alongside her. That was a whole 12 inches of polished equestrian freedom inlaid (ironically) with golden safflowers from tip to cylinder. The mother-of-pearl grip currently wrapped in her yellow magic was a bit overkill though.

“Uh oh…” I looked down at my own big dick pistol then back to hers. I didn't have cool pearl handles… and hers was bigger than mine! “Heeeey Yellow Safflower, how uhh…how ya been?”

That unnerving retail smile slipped back onto her face in an instant. “Oh I’m doing just fine, thanks for asking,” she said pointing the gun at us as she made her way down the stairs. “But it appears some malcontents have set my establishment ablaze. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” she questioned with a head tilt and really laying on that customer service smile.

“What? Set the hotel on fire? We…hadn’t noticed.” I put on the winning smile, briefly glancing back to see Lucy had the Mew pistol in her mouth and Moonstone was ready to dive for cover. I tried to subtly lower my flintlock behind the reception desk to crank it out of view. She may have gotten the jump on us first, but that doesn't mean I can't get the jump on-

POOOOM!!! The golden hand cannon boomed nigh as loud as my own but without the electric zip of a magical laser. I froze, but feeling a distinct lack of gaping hole in my chest I looked left to see a chunk of the reception desk had been blown away. “What a shame, and here I heard one of my smaller, scrawnier, and very shootable-looking patrons was the one who started the fire. Silly me. Maybe they were the same pony that released all my merchandise from the basement too hmm?” her facetiousness seethed through her teeth as she cocked another round.

“You were keeping slaves!” Moonstone called out from behind me, axe at the ready. “Selling them off to be killed in the Actor's sick movies!”

Safflower growled still making her way down the staircase. “They couldn't afford the cost of staying here. Once they ran out of gear to pawn off what were we supposed to do? Let them stay for free?!”

“Yes!” Moonstone retorted in disgust. “They’re refugees! And they trusted you!”

Safflower shook her head and gave an irritated sigh. “When was the last time you saw a gold-plated charity hmm? Never! I run a business here, or should I say RAN a business because you jackasses set my hotel on FIRE!” She shot again, sending us diving for cover and bits of desk flying.

“What is it with you surface ponies and ridiculously large calibers?!” I yelled frantically cranking my flintlock. “We don’t give a shit about your hotel! We're checking out whether you like it or not!”

Safflower growled cocking the gun again. “This is the Hotel Coltifornia! You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!” [Wild Wasteland!] A tiny princess Luna slid into view atop the desk wearing a little flannel shirt and holding a white double-guitar. The night goddess going to town on the strings. Tiny Celestia in a little red bandana did the same with a single red guitar and they started soloing in harmony. Why can I hear the end of the song solo?! How do I know this is from the end of a song?! Who are the Beagles?!

“Kill them!” She ordered firing her revolver in our general direction followed by several black-barded mercs running down the stairs. “Bring me their heads on a pike!” Good goddesses one of the mercenaries had a pike!

“Fuck your pike!” Flawless response me, I’m sure that will stop chunks of you from getting blown away! Returning fire on the other hoof… sending a thick red beam flying past her head certainly stopped her advance. Everypony went for cover but we were still outnumbered with multiple arcs of fire over our exit.

The situation was bad, to say the least. Lucy returned fire with her MEW pistol and Moonstone lacked the cover necessary to get into melee range. What's worse is that Rustov was taking his sweet time with the keys while the desk around him was getting shredded. “12a….12b… no no no. Mayhaps starting at the other end would be faster?” the bot mumbled to himself.

I looked down at my glowing, smoking Magic Flintlock. “Flintlock…I love you but you suck past the first volley.”

“Are you seriously talking to your gun right now?” asked a Moonstone rather upset at the bullets sending splinters flying over his head.

“N-no…” my flawless answer aside I quickly stuffed said flintlock back into my bag and searched for other options. I was out of Molotovs, and the mercenaries taking cover on the stairs were too far away for a shotgun to be effective. Oh wait… I had all those dead mercs' assault rifles! I booped my pipbuck inventory button and suddenly six blood-splattered rifles magically sprung from my bag. And the fun part about it was that pipbuck’s inventory management feature had loaded all the magazines for me. “Okay, I have no idea how to use these but I’m going to do the one thing I know I’m good at!”

“Skittering?” Lucy asked mid swapping out a spark battery.

“Prop comedy?” Moonstone added, wincing as another round passed overhead.

“No..” I grumbled racking the sides of all the guns. “Improv shock and awe! If I can't be accurate, why even aim, right?” I hovered all six guns above the deskline at once. “Eat horseapples slaver scum!”

A brief “Oh shit-” from one of the mercenaies as I pulled all six triggers. Cue a storm of bullets being fired in their general direction and at the same time a sudden searing pain in my horn. Sweet Celestia’s flaming tits I never knew my horn could hurt so much!! It was like hot iron being driven through the center of my forehead and the harder I fought the gun’s recoil the deeper it went.

Accuracy was not the goal, Pure saturation of firepower was the goal. Despite feeling like my horn was on fire I wasn’t controlling the recoil beyond general direction. I only caught a glimpse of Safflower ducking behind a gilded white couch and the entire grand staircase being peppered with holes before I slid down to the floor. I held my temples between my hooves rapidly learning why unicorns don't hover as many guns as physically possible. I could barely handle the weight of all six, much less the recoil straining against my, admittedly less-than-trained, telekinesis spell. I felt like I was holding my skull together to keep it from exploding. High-pitch ringing filled my ears while my horn sparked small arcs just like my flintlock. This didn't feel like the time I mowed down those raiders when we first got to Applewood. That felt like cold raw power and venting, this was just pain and lack of control.

The warmth of blood dribbled down from my nose as Lucy and Moonstone said... Something. It all rang into nothingness but I did something right enough for Moonstone to charge out from cover. Lucy grabbed me by the shoulder with her wings and shook me, her words blurred out. My head was swimming through magma and her shaking only sloshed the molten feeling around until I finally just.. Let go.

The searing agony receded and sound flowed back as the rifles clattered to the ground around me smoking. Like the guns, I fell to the floor clutching my horn and screaming obscenities as it continued to spark and my head throbbed. Why didn’t anyone tell me this would happen?! I kicked and flailed on the floor as the pain couldn't recede fast enough, but at least it was fading.

“What possibly made you think that was a good idea?!” were the first coherent words I heard from Lucy whilst in the background I heard the familiar sound of a battleaxe cleaving through pony bodies mixed with the occasional gunshot and metal ping. Finally able to look at Lucy I saw her digging through her satchel tossing out one syringe after another. “Are you trying to cripple yourself?!”

“I didn’t knohohoowww!!!” I cried still rolling and holding my horn, and feeling my hooves burn as well.

“Didn’t they teach you about magic overload in unicorn kindergarten or something?!” she yelled, scolding me like when I looked down the barrel of my flintlock.

“Nohohohhooo! Miss Appleboom was an earth Mahahahareee!” and I would pay nearly anything to have her first aiding me right now! That overwhelming sense of empathy and caring would be so nice right now.

“Rustov! Where Is my med-X!?” She yelled looking over the reception desk to the bot still fiddling with the keys.

The bot spun an eye towards her. “I’m so sorry good madam, I’m having a bit of trouble finding the key to your group's payment box. I guess I can use the master key, but I probably shouldn’t without management’s approval-”

“Use it!” Lucy barked glaring daggers at the bot.

“Right away ma’am… no need to be so hasty and all that.” A single claw extended to pull a lone key out from under the desk, spun, and slotted it into the drawer. “Here you go madame, all 10 doses of Med-X refunded as requested. Do have a pleasant evening.”

“Thanks Rustov…” I whimpered from the floor still holding my horn, finally able to get my hooves off of it. Another burst of gunfire ended with a scream and the crunch of a blade through bone.

‘You’re welcome madame~” He tipped his hat only to catch a bullet through it sending it flying. “Have either of you fine ladies seen my hat anywhere? I appear to have lost it.”

Lucy popped the cap off the med-X pen and wrapped it in her pinion feathers. The wing rose high ready to jab me with the med-x when the desk exploded with the boom of a heavy revolver. The world slowed and Lucy’s eyes went wide in disbelief as not only was her side peppered with splinters, but blood spewed out the opposite side from a new hole. I watched in horror as she crumpled to the floor with a muffled thud. The box of med-x tumped to the floor while countless more syringes spilled from her open saddlebags onto the marble floor. The gleaming white surface was overtaken by a growing puddle of crimson pooling around her. Yet in the same slow motion, Yellow-Safflower rounded the far corner of the desk glaring with her revolver in tow. Her magic pulled back on the hammer while she pivoted to point it at me.

Reflexively I went to stand and draw my flintlock, but the instant I tried to activate my telekinesis another ark of pain shot through my horn. The magic flickered out instantly releasing another arc of orange energy. I fell back to the ground to clutch my horn right as the boom of the revolver went off again. The massive round zipped past me making another crater in the marble floor. I literally dodged a bullet because I hurt myself like a foal trying to walk on a sprained ankle. Gotta think, gotta act, gotta think, gotta act, gotta- I reached for the nearest syringe and jabbed it into my side. If I got the Med-X into my system the painkillers should let me use my horn a bit longer to save Lucy and- The injection site went cold... That wasn’t Med-X. I felt that familiar cold rush from the injection site and over my body like a cooling mist through my veins. Said mist turning into a euphoric warmth as I saw Safflower standing there looking at the syringe with two little bottles strapped to its side. “Shit, you’re a rage junkie..”

Sweet sweet euphoria intertwined with its equal and opposite twin: A sudden and overwhelming urge to rip somepony’s head off! The first pulse of energy hit my heart and I pounced, ready to stab safflower with her own horn! “RRAAAAGHHHH!!”

“Oh no you don't!” Safflower did her best to swing the barrel of her revolver up towards me but it suffered some of the same problems that my flintlock did. High power, but terrible at keeping up with moving targets. Thus her shot went wide and I tackled right into her. We rolled across the floor and that golden cannon clattered alongside us. My chest thundered and my legs kicked into action faster than I could tell them to, clambering to my hooves just so I could keep bucking, stomping, and punching.

“Bucking Die!” I yelled rearing up to bring my hooves down on her just to catch her hind hooves to my gut knocking me onto my back. Stop going for the heavy hits me!

Safflower was the one getting up now, still full of bravado. “Bring it pipsqueak! Do you think I ran the biggest hotel in the West without being able to beat punk bitches like you?! I’ll use your bones as the foundation for the next one!”

Everything felt so good, So much bliss and hate telling me what to do it dulled my other senses. I may not be able to use magic right now but I didn’t need to right now did I? In my haze, I booped my pipbuck and had it eject my 3rd latest weapon from my inventory. In one swift motion, I grabbed the neck of the blood-soaked candelabra and swung low from the ground. “Leg sweep!” I called out catching her forelegs before she could process I announced my attack.

Now we were both on the ground trying to get up before the other. “You never should’ve come here! This is MY hotel!” Safflower proclaimed crawling forward so she could swing a forehoof across my muzzle. It knocked my glasses off-kilter, but the only thing I felt was a renewed urge to strangle her with her own blood. “You think you can just come in here and ruin my business!? After I kill you all those pegasi are going straight to the first buyer that asks.”

“You forgot one detail..!” I retorted words slurring as my speech sputtered blood onto her singed yellow coat. “You shot Lucy!!” I slammed forward without thinking, clashing horns with Safflower. I don’t know what it felt like for her, but for me, it felt like my horn exploded even with the drugs. Still, my unplanned goal of stunning her was accomplished! Freeing me to grip my candelabra between both my forehooves and swing for fences. Goddesses, blunt objects were so much easier to use than my own hooves!

Safflower got knocked off me just like Tulip-patch did during our cafeteria brawl, and just like then we both struggled to our hooves. But unlike Tulip, Safflower had a gun. “And I’ll shoot her again! And you! And everypony you’ve ever known!” Her horn glowed grabbing her gun again, swiftly swinging it up between us, intent on blowing me away.

“I’ll tear your head off!!” I roared swinging my candelabra again, but this time not at her. Gold sparked against gold as I struck the gun, misfiring on impact. The sudden boom made my ears ring but I didn't need them now that the gun was knocked away. [10 INT] “That's All Six!!” Everpony knew that 99% of all revolvers only have 6 shots….right?

To be fair, I hadn’t been keeping an eye on her so she might have reloaded sometime between the last 6 shots. But reality slowed once more as Safflower began backing up, floating her gun back and shaking out the casings. A second yellowish glow from her suit pocket as a speed loader came out filled with six obscenely long rounds with X-crossed tips. She was open!

Options:
1. Forgive her. *slap bullets away* “Ready to talk now?”
2. Steal Her gun! “Yoink!”
3. [Burning Down The House: Rank 3] Set her on fire! “Burn!!”
4. [Nerd Rage]+[High on Rage] *Brutalize* “I said I’d rip your head off and I meant it!”

The choice was obvious in my chem-fueled fury, I charged! I got in close and the last I saw of Safflower was her eyes going wide and her hoof raising to defend herself. I swung…and I swung some more…and then I kept swinging, screaming into oblivion.

Tink! Tank! Tunk! Crack! Tung! Bink! Crack! Squish! Tang! Splatter! Squish! Squelch!

All I saw was red so I kept swinging. Each impact came with a different sound, usually the metallic sound of the candelabra hitting something, but the more I hit, the wetter it got. A thunk here, followed by the crack of a leg bent the wrong way. A ping there, followed by gurgled screams. And after that, it was just squish, squish, squish!

The last sound has haunted me to the day I wrote this archive and probably will forever after. My first real memories of what ‘Rage’ REALLY does to a mare and those around her. Not the metallic sound of impact, but the raw visceral sounds of bones popping, flesh tearing, and sinew snapping. All layered over with the muffled screams of my physical exertion.

Then, nothing. Silence. The red that fogged my mind began to fade, I was coming down. There was a painful fluttering in my chest, but the ache of my limbs drew more attention. What I came down to was the bloody lifeless gaze of Safflower’s head between my forehooves. Half mashed and with nothing else attached…

“Eyuugh!” I freaked out, dropping the severed head to look at my hooves. I was up to my knees in blood, not to mention the rest of me. My limbs shook, whether from shock or exertion, I couldn't tell… What did I do to this mare? I knew what I did in a literal sense, but a better way of phrasing it was ‘How’ could I do this to a mare? I fell back onto my rear trying to process, to handle what had happened. My ears twitched, and looking around the fighting had stopped.

“What the buck…” one of the remaining mercenaries muttered peering down from the grand stairwell.

“Damn it. Payroll’s K.I.A. Everypony peel out, we’re out of reasons to stay.” Another ordered to his remaining troops.

“K.I.A!? She ripped her bucking head off!”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I? Now retreat private!”

Moonstone poked his head up from behind a turned-over table, witnessing the impromptu ceasefire. “Really!?...that’s it?! You wanna stop right here, after all that?!”

“Yep.” the remaining merc captain answered. “Any action taken after this point is a financial loss on our part. Every bullet and body is now a complete waste. So we’ll stop shooting if you do too so this doesn’t get too expensive. Capiche?”

“Ughh.. you Black-Bards and your damn finances! We were just in the middle of killing eachother and-” Moonstone took a deep breath and gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine! Just… get outta here!”

“Right then, truce” The captain nodded. “Say Hi to your parents on behalf of the black barding company. Hut!” He pointed to his remaining mercs and they ran back up the stairs, presumably to find another exit to use.

Moonstone groaned pulling his axe out of his latest kill. “Sure, I'll do that… Hey Lucy did you get our stuff yet?” He looked down from the stairs only to see me sitting at the edge of Safflower’s bloody mess. “Where’s Lucy?”

Lucy… Where’s Lucy… I looked back to the front of the desk where she lay unmoving “Shit!Fuck!Shit!” I scrambled, slipping and siding on the bloody marble floor, smearing the sanguine mess around like paint on a post-modernist painting. “Lucy! Lucy stay with me!” My hooves scattered around trying to grab whatever medications had spilled out of her bag. I couldn't tell what blood was hers and which was Safflower’s but I could at least figure out which syringe was med-x. The process of elimination was a hell of a thing. I bit the cap off tasting the iron of blood mixed with my own and struggled to jab it into Lucy’s flank with my slippery hooves.

“What happened?!” Moonstone yelled rounding the corner of the reception desk finally getting to see Lucy had been downed. The purple pega sprawled on her side in a slowly growing pool of mixed blood.

“Safflower shot her with that hand cannon! What do ya think?!” I flailed trying to grab more syringes after the first one unloaded with a little hiss. I couldn’t tell what many of these were beyond their shape, blood smeared over all the words.

“No shit Sketchy! But it’s a bit late for painkillers! Where are her potions?!” Moonstone joined me in the frantic search through the puddle of blood-covered medical supplies.

“I’m looking for them! I can’t see shit!” Panic sat in, The syringes were caked in blood, the bandages were reduced to dripping red ribbons of coagulation, and the only shapes I recognized were med-X and Rage! I dove into her saddle bag to see if the healing potion was still in there but it too was a jumbled mess. [Int10] I went for her pipbuck! Sure it was Enclave issue but it operated the same! Opening her hot bar Lucy had two of the potions left, which I promptly ejected.

The bottles promptly threw themselves harmlessly up and out of the bag with one. I caught one between my hooves while the other clattered to the floor. “Got ‘em!” nopony ever tells you what to do if the medic gets hit, much less Lucy! She was supposed to be the one plugging the holes in us! For the love of the Goddesses, she better still be alive! I opened the bottle and brought the potion to her mouth, trying to turn Lucy’s head so that she’d swallow, but it only pooled in her mouth and spilled out the sides. “She’s not swallowing!!”

“Then pour it in the wound damn it!” Moonstone ordered taking the other potion into his hooves. Uncorking it with his teeth, he poured it right into the weakly gushing hole in Lucy’s side.

It was a mess, everything was a mess, and all I could do is watch the pink fluid pour into the wound. For once getting to watch the effects take root as the wound slowly started to stitch itself back together. “The other side! We gotta get the exit wound!”

Rolling her over, said exit wound was FAR worse than the side it entered from. A hunk of mangled gore and a little bit of bone removed from her side about the size of my hoof. “Shiiiiiiit.”

“Don’t gawk at it! Pour the other potion in!” Moonstone barked getting low to hold Lucy’s head between his forehooves and tapping her face. “Stay with us, Lucy! I’m not letting you die over some stupid ass posters! Stay with us!”

What remained of the potion I tried getting her to drink went right into the gaping exit wound, clear pink mixing and swirling with the welling red. “Cmooon…cmooon!” I pleaded, trying to mentally will the 200-year-old potion to work faster. I couldn't see the full effect but at least the bleeding slowed down. “We need her awake so she can actually drink the things!” I looked around the pools of red and drugs for a solution, any solution. “Aha!” I grabbed the nearest Rage syringe between my hooves. “This should wake her up!”

“Are you kidding me?! That’ll just make her bleed out faster!” Moonstone protested, balking at the idea of using an upper right now.

I threw my hooves up in the air. “Well, do you want her to bleed out slowly or gamble on her being able to drink down another potion for the short period she wakes up?!”

“We don’t even have a third potion!” He added.

“A moment ma’am.” Rostov butted in, swiveling his three eyes and limbs towards us.

“Not now tin-can!” Moonstone interrupted, starting to dig around through his own bags.

Rostov feigned a mechanical cough. “No need to be rude now, But your refunded items are ready,” he said sitting a small bin on the counter. “And-”

“Not important!”

“-aaaand this fine lady here appears to be in a bit of medical distress. Would you like the first aid kit?”

Salvation!! “Why didn’t you say you had one sooner?! Yes, we’ll take it!.”

“My apologies, I am simply programmed to resolve visitor issues in the order that they occur. Some guff about client fairness and all that.” The bot lamented as he pulled a metal box with three pink butterflies on it out from under the desk. “I’d change the strings myself If my programming didn’t have these darn anti-zebra tampering codes. But that's the striped menace for you Ey?”

I yoinked the medical kit from the desk. “Thanks, Rustov! Best desk stallion I know!”

“Why thank you, ma’am~”

I flung open the medical kit to browse my options. A healing potion, some enchanted bandages, a pair of med–x shots, and a pair of rusted-out scissors. The scissors were fubar so I'll just have to use ALL the bandage. “Hold her up! The safest bet is to stop the bleeding before we wake her up to drink.”

Moonstone huffed, and use that mighty frame of his to prop the download pony up high enough for me to get my hooves under. With Lucy’s midsection wrapped, or should I say mildly mummified, in enchanted bandage the bleeding slowed to a faintly growing stain on her right side. “You keep her focused, she needs to drink this as fast as possible!” With a nod, I signaled to Moonstone and jabbed Lucy with the Rage.

It took a second but she woke kicking and coughing up blood, her eyes wide in fury, panic, and pain. I pushed the potion to her muzzle while Moonstone held her still as best he could yelling. “Drink Lucy drink!”

It slushed and spilled in her struggles but she retained her senses enough to swallow, albeit in an effort to bite through the bottle. A success nonetheless! We kept this up until the potion was gone and roughly a minute passed before she calmed down and slipped back into the sweet release of Luna’s sleep. She was breathing… sweet Celestia she was breathing!

“Thank…fuuuuck!” I groaned flopping to the floor as all the tension released at once. I felt so tense and no matter how I tried to stretch it never went away. “We did it!” I cheered weakly putting a hoof up in the air before letting it drop with another little splat.

“Don't celebrate now, we're still in a burning building.” Moonstone, ever the whip master, chastised as he did his best to get some straps and a forehoof wrapped around Lucy so he could drag her out of here.

I sat up with a groan, feeling worse by the second, and looked down to see the blood angel I had made on the polished marble floor. “This would be super gross if I wasn't so spent right now…” I commented to myself stepping around the angel and making my way for the door with moonstone.

“Ma’am!” Rustov called out. “Don’t forget your refund. You wouldn’t want to leave without it would you?”

“Fuck the posters!” Moonstone called from the door as he dragged Lucy’s limp frame out.

I looked back to Moonstone, then to Rustov, then back-. “Ohh…” I whined, but upon looking at Rustov one last time I quickly pranced right up to the desk and did my best to slide the tray into my saddlebag so I didn't get any blood on Button-mash’s priceless pin-up. “Thanks, Rustov! See you later!” Was I going to see him later? Deep down I kinda hoped so. But for now, I quickly ran after Moonstone only to pause when I passed the decapitated body of Safflower. Limp, unmoving, staring at me vacantly. It was at this point that I began to realize how dull my sense of the macabre had grown out here in the wasteland. I wasn't even nauseous looking at her right now, just angry… and tired… and dare I say it… a little inspired.

I came up beside Moonstone putting what strength I had left into helping carry Lucy along. Behind us the Hotel Coltifornia burred like a pillar of fire, the upper floors starting to crumble away falling to Equis. The bell fell with a dull clang and the distant words of Rustov the Second echoed through the roar of the inferno. “Come back any time. The Hotel Coltifornia is always open!” as open as it will ever be… with Safflower’s head mounted on a pike by the front gates and her gun in my bag.

Chapter 15: Dead Zebra Storage (Part 2)

We crashed and burned that night. A one-hour nap, some sugar, and hard drugs a healthy energy level does not make. Lucy wasn't in any condition to travel, much less the pile of stoned pegasi we’d left behind the hotel. I couldn't even be bothered with a campfire.. Not that I could start one with my horn overexerted. So I found a particularly ergonomic pile of rubble to lay on and left Lucy in the capable hooves of Moonstone… So passed the buck out.

My slumber was as intense as it was instant. I expected some kind of reactor coolant trip of nightmares, not.. this. Flashes of red, white, and black. Cracks of orange lightning and black splatter across the solid colors. And this full-body feeling of being thrown around like a ragdoll changing direction with every flash smacking the wind out of me until-

I awoke to the sun in my eyes and my lungs gasping for air. My hooves clutched at my chest as I struggled to breathe. Had I not been breathing this whole time?! I coughed, wheezed, and rolled off my rubble bed before pushing myself to sit up. “Sweet.. Bucking…” I panted as whatever that just was faded and I could breathe again.

“Hey bro you okay?” My head snapped right to see one of the enclave pegas standing next to me. He was a dull blue and clad in bits and pieces of what I assumed was his old uniform.

I reacted like any mare does to surprises after struggling to breathe for no reason. “AHHH!!” Flailing in place and skittering away from him.

He only looked back and called to the rest. “Hey does screaming mean she’s okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine!” Moonstone’s voice answered back.

The pega gave me a nod. “Well, that’s my job done.” before walking off to join the crowd of other enclave pegasi gathered around the impromptu camp.

Peering from behind the rubble I adjusted my glasses and took in my waking reality. A lot of the pegasi idled around seeming so unsure of what they should be doing. I guess without anypony of rank barking orders at them they start getting confused. A few of them were having some kind of back and forth with Moonstone who stood between them and a still unmoving Lucy. My pipbuck said it was about noon which means I was out for… 9.. 10 hours?

I rolled my shoulders, wiggled in place, and did some stretches that made my body pop all over. “Ahh.. yep…” I smacked my lips a bit. “This is how my days start now.” I groaned doing a little lunge until I heard a much larger pop in my back. “Fuck…” I went limp for a moment before springing back up. “Okay ready to go!”

I made my way over to my… friends (goddesses that feels weird to write) and many a pega silently got out of my way, rubber-necking as I passed. “Ain't it just a bright sun-shiny day? I bet Celestia’s havin’ a right fine-” My chipper morning routine was ruined by the lack of ponies paying attention to it.

“I don’t care how many times you ask, you’re not waking her.” Moonstone poked a big hoof at a pink pega mare that looked slightly more important than the rest with two bars on her little badge compared to the single bar all the others had. Moonstone briefly noticed me and gave a “Morning Sketchy.” before turning back to the other pega. “She’ll wake up when she’s ready to wake up.”

“We need orders, even if it’s from the likes of her.” The pega mare pointed. “She’s the only pony here with sufficient rank and training to organize this smattering of squads into a functional mission.” she poked back glaring up at the larger Moonstone.

“You want her help? You’re the ones who abandoned her! Why should she help you?”

“Cause she’s still one of us! So she got lost, but that still doesn't mean she isn’t part of the Enclave.”

“Okay, that's it!” I forced my way into the conversation getting between the two. “What the flying fuck a duck is this about?” I may have never seen a real duck, but it rhymes!

“This savage of yours won't let us wake Corporal Noctilucent so we can receive orders from a ranking officer.” She stated accusatorily glaring at Moonstone.

“And I keep telling you, she needs her rest until she recovers from being nearly disemboweled last night!” He growled.

Now I have even more questions! “Alright, alright, break it up you two.” I physically pushed them apart with my noodly nerd forehooves. “First of all, Who are you?”

The mare rolled her eyes. “Specialist Candy-Cloud of the Grand Pegasus Enclave. West coast if you want to get specific about branches.”

“Aaaand you think he belongs to me?” I asked pointing at Moonstone.

“Doesn't he?” She looked between the two of us. “We were under the impression unicorns usually ran the show down here on account of…” she briefly looked at my horn. “Your kind’s inclinations.”

Two seconds of being self-conscious about my horn size later. “Well I don't, we're a team, the team that has been keeping Lucy alive the past several weeks while she did everything in her power to find you guys.” I squinted.

Candy-Cloud only shrugged. “If you say so. I’m not here to argue with the madmare covered hoof to horn in blood.”

I briefly looked down at myself to see I was in fact, disgusting. Dried blood flaked off my hooves, my fur was stained and matted, and my suit was… anything but Stable-Tec blue. “Third!” I quickly changed the subject. “Unless you guys have healing potions hidden up your collective asses, Lucy isn't going to be in any shape to give orders much less wake up.” I pointed back at the downed mare. “I would know, I plugged the GAPING HOLE! that THIS GUN!-” I subconsciously whipped the massive golden gun out of my bag making several pegas back up. Huh… guess I can use my horn again. It still feels really sore though, like a sprain just barely safe enough to stand on. “-Blew through her solar plexus!”

Weapon: ‘Flower Power’
Descriptor: A golden, pearl-handled, and VERY heavy revolver with a massive barrel gilded grip to tip in golden safflowers.
Ammo: 500-S&W Custom (good luck finding those!)
Special: +15% more damage to opponents poorer than you.

“We get it, she's injured.” Candy-Cloud started, using a wing to gently lower my new blood-stained revolver. “But she just needs to tell us to do something, anything! All the leadership are dead or gone and we have no way of contacting back home without being declared AWOL. She’s our ticket back home.”

“That's what she said about you guys!” I threw my forehooves in the air in exasperation. “I need to reconnect with my squadmates, Cause if I go back without them they’ll say I went AWOL and kick me right back out.” I tried to parrot Lucy’s voice and even did some gesticulation to drive it home.

“I don’t sound like that…” groaned behind me.

“Do too,” I contradicted before continuing. “And another thing-” Everypony suddenly looked back towards Lucy with her eyes finally open and getting her legs under her body.

“Should I be insulted or flattered at your pale impersonation attempt of.. Ah.. me?” she added wincing as she struggled to move.

“Stay still, you aren’t healed yet.” Moonstone turned, hooves on Lucy’s withers to keep her in place.

Lucy still managed to raise her head to look over the gathered crowd of pegas waiting eagerly for orders. “Normally I'd be thrilled to be getting so much attention but…” she coughed into her hoof doing her best to suppress it. “But I appear to be missing a piece of rib judging by this horrible pain in my side.”

“Did you uhh… want it back?” I smiled sheepishly as I hovered a small piece of bone out of my backpack. Everypony just stared at me, the blood-soaked nerd mare holding a piece of rib that got blown out of their friend. “What?! If I had a rib fall out I'd want somepony to find it for me!”

“Beating wings that’s just.. eww…” Candy-Cloud muttered backing away.

“Sketchy, darling.” Lucy wheezed struggling to achieve her usual patronizing tone. “I appreciate the thought… but this has to be the most disturbing act of consideration I’ve received to date.” many of the pegasi in the background nodded keeping a safe distance from me. “Please just… put it away for now. Before I start asking why.”

I glanced around awkwardly as I lowered the rib back into my bag. “Was kinda hard to find with all the blood…” I mumbled, slowly being crushed under the weight of the awkwardness.

“The gun too Sketchy…” Moonstone added, his hoof draped over wounded Lucy who was trying her best not to look at the hoof-cannon that nearly killed her.

Realizing said gun was probably traumatizing Lucy for life I quickly stashed it too. “Right…” I looked down at my hooves, you could barely tell they were charcoal grey if not for the blood flaking off. “Sorry…” Oh Celestia! Not the guilt!

Lucy seemed to relax, as best one could relax while recovering from a gaping bullet wound. “Status… report.” She panted looking back to the Enclave ponies.

Specialist CandyCloud trotted right back up, saluting with a wing. “Specialist CandyCloud reporting. We estimate the west-coast scouting battalion has suffered a 40% attrition rate. Scout squadrons A, B, D, and F are all that remain post-capture by the surface barbarians. All forward recon bases appear to have been lost in the days leading up to our descent, We have nopony to call, no shelter to go to, and most of our equipment is missing or inoperable, due to… poor decisions by previous leadership.”

Lucy gave a very tired blink. “Is that all?”

Is that all?! That sounds like a complete mission FUBAR to me! How could there possibly be more!?

“Aaaand we have little to no food or water.” Candy Cloud added struggling to maintain a perfectly straight face as she gave such a dire report.

“Well, at least we aren’t being shot at.” Lucy winced “Anymore… I want- ah..” she panted trying to catch her breath.

“Don't push yourself…” Moonstone uttered in concern.

Lucy took a deeper strained breath to get more air in her system to speak. “I want two of you, any of you, to maintain air patrols. We’ll be in even deeper trouble if raiders or mutants catch us unawares. I’d do it myself but… prohibitive injuries persist.” taking another strained breath before looking at me. “Sketchy… Would you be a dear and check your little book for any locations that might suit our needs?”

“If I may sir, Her?” CandyCloud questioned looking at me. “Why are you asking the blood-drenched surfacer for directions and not the actual scouting party? Why should we ever trust her?”

“Yeah, what?!” I questioned too, hooves going to hold my archive saddle bag close to my personage.

“Because I’m telling you to trust her.” Lucy tried to be stern, maintaining a pained glare. “Unlike the Enclave’s finest, Sketchy here has been roaming and recording everything she can about the surface since she left her stable. Meanwhile, all of you managed to accomplish was getting yourself captured by slavers. Slavers which my hired help here slaughtered to save you.”

Let's just… omit the fact she fell into the same honey trap as the rest of her enclave buddies. Yeah, I like this version of things…

“So instead of being suspicious of Shetchy’s motives, you could be grateful you weren’t sold to a gaggle of horny raiders. The last ones I encountered were certainly keen on the idea of *ahem* ‘fucking a turkey’.” She weakly air-quoted with her pinion feathers, while the mental image made the rest of the soldiers squirm. “Obviously being the good little mare that our adorable Sketchy here is, she slaughtered those deviants too.”

Am… am I being patronized for my spontaneous acts of hyper-violence?

CandyCloud clearly still didn't like the idea as she maintained that glare looking between Lucy and I. “Fine… but I’m shooting her if she leads us into some dirty surfacer trap.”

“Hey, I’m not…” I looked down at myself. “Oh yeah…”

“I’d expect nothing less~” Lucy nodded in agreement with her immediate… what was the opposite of a direct superior? Inferior? Her direct inferior.

“Right…” Well this was a first for me, nopony had ever asked anything like this before, but I didn't see the harm in it. So long as none of them tried to look at anything else I- You know what? Only I get to hold my archive! “Let's see..” I muttered hovering the yay thick tome out of its dedicated saddle-bag.

A few of the soldiers muttered in the background. “When was the last time you saw that much paper in one place?” and “I dunno man, I always used my cloud terminal.” and let's not forget. “How many berries do you think we could buy for all that?” followed by. “Dude!? You don't say that shit when a superior is around!”

Goddesses they were bad at whispering… not that Lucy or CandyCloud seemed to care as they watched me with expectation.

Pages fluttered in my magic until found where I started writing about Applewood. Aaand quickly flipped one more page because I forgot I stuffed a doodle of Lasso-Lean’s flank in here. “Ahem…” I whistled innocently skipping a few more pages to be safe. “Sacked, sacked, looted, burnt down, ants, destroyed, looted, ruined, ghouls, more ghouls, fire… AHA!” I put my hoof on the page. “Oh wait…” I bit my lip.

“What is it?” Lucy and CandyCloud, asked in unison.

“Uhhhh…” I shrank holding the open book close to my chest.

“Spit it out. We don’t have all day. If you know where food and shelter are then tell us.” Candy squinted.

I raised a hoof and opened my mouth to speak. “Ahhh….Weeeell…”

—-------

“I can’t believe this!” Candy protested as we all shuffled our way along the same route we took to get to the hotel.

Much like last time I managed to fashion Lucy a sled of sorts from whatever hot garbage I could find. “Well believe it. And as your commanding officer, I’m ordering you NOT to shoot them.” Lucy huffed from her prestigious trash chariot being pulled by Moonstone.

“But ghouls?! They're mutants! Viscous brain-eating monsters!” Candy added, gently flying along right above Lucy.

Lucy sighed. “Sketchy would you be a dear and give her the ghoul story?”

“The ghoul story?”

I looked up from my shiny new gun and the rag I was using to try and smear the blood guck off of it to minimal effect. “Yep, Ghoul story. You’re probably gonna hear a lot of 'em out here but here’s mine. I used to think the exact same thing about ghouls, I mean why wouldn't I? One of YOUR engineers turned into one in the guts of the Fog-Bank-”

“You found the FogBank?!”

“Ehh!! Storytime!” I countered pointing my smudgey hoof up at the pega. “As I was saying..” I coughed. “Nearly got my face bitten off by a ghoul, whom I promptly blew to pieces.” Okay, so maybe the ghoul didn’t get that close and I was omitting how many shots it took for me to hit it. But it was scary! “So yeah, horrible undead, flesh-eating monsters. That was until I met the sentient ones.” I noted genuflecting with both rag and gun. “Do you have any idea what it's like to talk to ponies that were around before you were even a protein in a tomato your 10x grandma ate before the bombs fell?”

Many pegas gave me a long slow blink.

“Exactly, It's a window into the bucking past. Walking pieces of history who were smart enough to survive 200 years without getting shot or eaten.” I have no bucking idea how Button's mom lasted so long on her own, maybe it was the crazy. “And atop all of that. They're just like you and me. Upstairs at least.” I tapped the barrel of the gun on the side of my head to emphasize what I was implying… before I quickly pulled said gun away from my brain pan! “Plus think of it like this. Would I really risk my ass to save all of you from armed slavers just to feed you to a pair of ghouls?”

In a long pause of thought Candy-Cloud eventually grumbled. “Okay fine! But we don't have to like it! They could turn at any moment!”

“And if they do try to eat you, I will be the one to shoot them, Not you, not that guy” I pointed at a random pega. “Or her!” I pointed at Lucy. “I will put them down. But Until then, if it talks like a pony but smells like a corpse don't shoot ‘em unless they shoot you!” I glared at the surrounded Enslave pegas, taking in their mixed looks of intimidation, admiration, hesitation, and internal conflict.

Silence was their answer, and I took it as acceptance of my demands. I think they understood that anypony who hurt Button’s or his mom would get perforated by their recent savior. The blood-soaked wasteland savage… with a fuck off huge gun and an attitude to back it up.

“And..” Lucy started, with a faint knowing smile as she looked to our merry band of vagabonds, ready to be the carrot to my stick. “Not only has Mrs Creamheart been maintaining the local houses for the past 200 years, But…”

“But?” one of the scout pegasi flew a little closer to hear, his curiosity serving as the foundation of Lucy’s maneuver.

“If all of you prove courteous and understanding with this highly sentient and kind ghoul, she might let you partake in her extensive berry garden.”

“Corporal!” Candy protested as all the other enclave members started cheering and whooping for some reason. “You can’t be serious! We can’t just-” her objections quickly drowned out in the whooping and giddiness of her comrades.

One of them even came up to me to ask. “Hey uhh, does this ghoul really have berries?” his wings twitched a little as we walked.

I had no idea why something as mundane as fresh produce would be of such interest to pegasi like this, were they that hungry? “I mean… I didn't go into her backyard and inspect it myself, but she had tons of bushes back there and-”

“Wooo!!” the stallion cheered before zipping off. “They got berries guys! Lets gooo!! ‘B’s for everypony!”

Morale skyrocketed to such a degree I had to start trotting just to keep pace with the now enthusiastic mob of pegasi. “Maybe I should add this to the archive as a ‘pegasus thing’,” I said to myself before cardio could catch up with me.

They slowed down… eventually. Turns out regular role calls and pit stops to make sure nopony got lost was a common practice in the enclave. But I couldn't help but wonder if it was because the Enclave cared about its soldiers, or didn't want any of them running off unnoticed. Still, it gave me to chance to firmly plop my flank on the corner of Apple Way & West-Beaverly. Twas the least broken piece of pavement I could find, the occasional two-century-old newspaper blowing on by, a chance to rest my legs.

“This is nice…” I said to myself letting the gentle wasteland breeze blow through my mane. The distant gunshots synonymous with the Applewood wasteland were muffled down by the steady howls of wind passing through creaking buildings. It really gave a sense of just how immense this ‘city’ was. It would take hundreds, maybe even thousands of stables to compare to the volume this place had to it. Just listening to the wind and letting my senses expand to all the little passing sounds and small details the cityscape offered. The most notable of all was the city core… where Los-Pegasus fell from the sky right atop Applewood. A mountain of twisted steel, and green clouds flowing from broken buildings. And if I focused I could hear the distant hum of machinery, the hiss of cloud emitters, and a thousand raspy cries of pega-ghouls swarming the ruins like flies. There was only one thing that could make this better…

“Music!” I noted bringing a hoof down on my pipbuck radio button!

“Zzzt- Good afternoon my little ponies, I’m DJ Pon3 and that was Sweetie-Belle teaching us all one of the oldest truths in the world. Everypony has something they regret.”

“Damn it, I missed the song!”

“We’ll be back to the music soon folks, but first some News! Let's see what I got here~” There was the squeak of a wheely chair and the ruffling of some papers. “Ah, there’s where Homage put it. Great assistant but her organizational skills were clearly not something the lightbringer desired.”

There was an ever-distant “I heard that!” that soon followed before DJ Pone3 chucked. “This just in out of Neigh-Orleans. Some freelance salvagers known as the panhandlers have been hard-working little ponies. Pried from the cold jaws of the Neigh-Orleans muck, they got their hooves on a one-of-a-kind edition of Windy Gale’s Grand Galloping Galla vinyl. Signed too! How do I know this? Hehe yeah well, it's cause they mailed it to me, courtesy of the DitzyDoo Delivery Service~ And I am so looking forward to sharing it with the rest of you little ponies out there in the wasteland. Good Job Panhandler crew, and uhh..let me know if you find anything else this disk jockey can spin.” DJ pon3 gave a jolly laugh.

Okay, that’s kinda cool. DJ pon3 gets fan mail… and ponies send him music they find. Neat! Restoring pre-war culture one find at a time.

“And now some news from everypony’s favorite little hellhole, and I ain't just talking about New-Pegas. I’m talkin’ bout good old Applewood baby. If Glitz, Glam, a shotgun slug to the chest somehow ran a city. I’m happy to tell folks there appears to be a mysterious new player in town. Now I know I’m here to bring you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts, So I’ll give you the facts. Somepony, the same pony, has been making waves. Witnesses have been spotting this mystery mare’s deeds across the region.”

Please tell me he isn’t talking about me…

“She’s been connected to the exile of ponies selling chems to kids in bubble town. Some witnesses say she single-hoofedly wiped out a raider toll booth in a hail of gunfire. Others say they saw her slaughtering fire ants on the northside. And quite a few culture-shocked ghouls say she tamed the War-Fields all on her lonesome. And that aint all this lil mare has on her resume. Just last night folks, she made quite the display out of the Hotel Coltifornia. That's right folks, Ten-Pony's little brother out west has fallen.. Or should I say gone up in flames? Turns out our ‘little brother’ was getting his kicks by dipping into the slave market. Taking in Enclave remnants as refugees, racking up a bill, and then putting them in chains. Terrible, just terrible. But wasteland justice was swift and brutal at the hooves of our mystery mare. She Freed the slaves, set the place ablaze, and killed everypony involved. If you go there now you’ll find the former manager enjoying her new view… on a pike, and an angel painted on the marble floors in the blood of her enemies.

I… I feel sticky…

“Just who is this mare who’s shown a complete disrespect for Applewood's status quo? This liberator of slaves, whisperer of ghouls, and slayer of raiders? This Angel of Applewood?”

“She sounds awesome! Kinda hot too am I right?” A voice chuckled behind me. A way too familiar voice… a joyful happy-go-lucky voice of a deadbuck that sent a chill down my spine. I slowly turned my head to look back and see standing behind me, looming, was a perfectly intact Zony prince, Moko. “Last night’s party was awesome right?”

I reacted the same way any sane and reasonable mare would- “FUCKING GHOST!! AHHH!!!”

POOOOOM!!

A cone of red viscera sprayed up the ruined storefront behind me as the ghost’s head disappeared into a fine red mist that wafted over me. The bulky Zony body of this ‘ghost’ didn’t dematerialize or melt away, but slowly fell to the pavement with a meaty thump. And there I sat… shaking… with a new coat of red paint on my everything.

“Holy HorseA- I mean… DJ Pon3 needs to be right back children, I’m receiving a disturbing news report and will be back with you soon. In the meantime, enjoy this selection from the ponies that made ‘Balefire Baby’. Zzzt~”

Im going to have a heart attack if I don't die of sepsis first. I’ve spent an ungodly amount of time covered in everypony else’s blood. Actually, this whole surface thing has been just that… one massive blood stain.

“Sketchy… Sketchy?” A hoof waved in front of my face and I slowly looked left to see a concerned Moonstone connected to it.

I took a deep shaky breath and let fly my inner thoughts. “Please tell me I just killed a ghost. Cause that looked exactly like the prince” I inhaled again. “Whom is dead…very dead… the deadest of deads.”

Moonstone looked between me and the new body lying next to me as pegas gathered around to see. “Uhh… It’s kinda hard to tell given the lack of-” he bit his lip looking for a way to spare my delicate psyche. “Facial features.”

Lucy was next on the scene, weakly wheeling herself over while shooing away the other pegasi that gathered around to gawk. “Good heavens what happened this time?” she looked down at the body. “Is that the prince I saw in that gaudy hotel?”

“SEE?!” I pointed at the corpse. “It’s a bucking ghost! We let his body burn after the hookers stabbed him to death and now I’m HAUNTED!” I lamented to the heavens, hooves pulling at my mane as I was ready to snap. I got to thinking and I got to pacing, always a bad combination. “Why am I being haunted this time?! Fire usually works! What did I do wrong? Is he pissed I got him killed? Or that I left him? Does he think I killed him? Is it dark zebra magic? But there’s no body for his soul to cling to. I don’t- I can’t-” Before my rambling could continue I got a wing to the shoulder from Lucy stopping me in place.

“Sketchy…” she stated looking my right in the eyes, locking my frantic focus in place. “There’s a perfectly logical reason for this. And I can say this with confidence, not only because it's me saying it, but because you’ve been stressed to the breaking point for days now. And cause ghosts aren’t real.” she gave me a pat “It’s just some… what did you say happened to the prince again?”

“He got stabbed- with the knives and- the fire!” In hindsight, it was at this point in my adventure I should have noticed just how much of a wreck I was becoming. Incomplete sentences, covered in gore, eyes bugged out, practically pulling my mane out, and making stabbing gestures towards the body. I looked, Insane.

“Sketchy, don’t make me sedate you.” Lucy threatened with an authoritative yet caring scowl. “Because you know I will. And Moonstone will have to drag us back to Mrs Cream-heart’s house.”

“Hey!” Moonstone protested at being volunteered for ‘carry the team’ duty.

“Now slow down dearie.” Lucy, reluctantly, patted me with her shaky wing. “Slow down, breathe, think. It’s probably just some poor stallion that looks like the prince. Nothing to worry about.”

Moonstone nudged the body with his hoof. “It sure looks like him. Identical size, matching stripes, even got the same zebra cutiemark-looking thing as the prince. But we saw him die, and..”

“That settles it then, obviously not the same stallion.” Lucy continued “Because ghosts aren’t real and there are two separate accounts of witnessing his untimely death.” Lucy nodded patting me all the more. “Who knows, maybe he had a brother.”

“An identical twin is more like it…” mutter Moonstone.

“Or his stunt double. He did say his father ran that silly Actors clan right? He probably has stallions pose as him all the time to keep from being assassinated. It’s what I’d do if I were any more desired by the masses than I already am.”

Lucy being full of herself despite her injuries aside, her words got me thinking. “Double?.. Actors?...Looks the same? Warlord-” I jumped up. “Holy shit they're gonna think we killed the prince!” be still my screaming heart- “And I just killed an innocent stallion!! AHHHHH!!!!” I’m going to HELL!!! Why cruel world! Whyy!?!

“What?! No they wont.” Moonstone countered putting a hoof on my withers to sit back down. I’ve never known a stallion who was more likely to get gutted in the streets than the prince. The real magic is how he managed to survive this long to begin with!” he said gesturing at the body. “Anypony could have offed him.”

“But WE killed him!” I gestured both forehooves at the body. “And this time there isn't a blazing inferno to destroy the body we- Wait no,” I paused with the blink of realization. “I killed him! I don’t wanna fight a warlord! He might skin me and turn me into a flag or something!” Brain…you aren’t helping.

“So we just hide the body?” Moonstone raised a brow.

My eyelid twitched. “Where?! Under the pavement?! In the ruins scavengers comb over all the time? Or better yet, anywhere in the vicinity of the only part of town WE’VE-” I rapidly pointed at us three. “Been in so far? It’s Applewood’s most identifiable corpse! A bucking zony!”

“Well do you have any better ideas, or are you just going to sit there and have a panic attack?”

I looked around for somewhere, anywhere we could dispose of this totally not a murder. I looked at the pegas, and they all shirked away. Not only that but using them would make them a target. I looked at the ruins, but he'd be found by scavengers. I looked down the road towards Button’s place and paused. “Fuuuuuuck meeeeee!!!!-”

—

“-heeey buddy how ya been?” I gave my most convincing smile to the VERY non-plussed brown ghoul standing at the bottom of the stairs in a blue bathrobe.

Button-Mash just looked at me, with his long dead stare as he sipped from his ‘Sweetie Belle 1026 tour’ coffee mug. “I was doing fine…” he said calmly… too calmly.

“Great, that's great, just great…” I trailed off looking down at my own coffee mug I’d been given.

I took a sip from the mug, to be fair I’d never tasted coffee before and I gotta say… it smells way better than it tastes. Still, I forced it down and smiled, cause I really needed to be on this stallion's good side. “Mmm… well damn Buttons, this is some of that gourmet stuff right here. You know we would have been satisfied with some everjuice, but here you are being out the gourmet-”

“Knock it off…” He said flatly maintaining that long brooding stare.

“What?...”

He squinted at me, something only I normally get to do! “I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is okay? I’m the one who buys it. When mom goes shopping she buys crap, I buy the expensive gourmet shit cause I wanna taste it.”

I blinked slowly shrinking in on myself.

“But you wanna know what's on my mind right now? Cause it ain't the 200-year-old coffee I buy,” he stated gesturing the mug at me. “It's the dead zebra in my living room!” he said pointing behind me where Moonstone could be seen slowly dragging off-brand Moko’s corpse towards the cellar door.

“Oh uhh…” I quickly looked around for an answer. “You don't need to worry about that Buttons. We’ll-”

“I’m gonna ask you an honest question” He kept squinting.

“Yeah?...”

“When you came back here, did you notice a sign on my front lawn that said ‘Dead Zebra storage?’”

“Button’s, you know we didn't-”

“DID YOU!” he enunciated loudly leaning in. “See a sign out front that said ‘Dead Zebra Storage’?!”

“No…” I squeaked shrinking further.

“Do you know why you didn’t see that sign?”

“No-”

“Cause storing dead zebras is none of my bucking business that’s why!” he yelled, glaring at me.

I can still save this! “Buttons, we don't wanna keep him here forever, we just-”

“NononoononononoNO!!! Do you have any Idea how my mom is going to react if she comes home and finds zebra gore all over the living room floor?! She’d kill me! Again!” he gestured to his ghouly self. “There is no kind of therapy left in Applewood to fix that level of trauma! And I don't wanna die again! Do you see how dead I am already? If this is step two I don’t wanna see step three!”

I slowly sipped from the coffee mug struggling to get past the bitterness about as hard as I struggled to keep eye contact with Buttons.

“Ya know…I wanna help you. Cause ya know, reasons. But I don't want my mom to kill me either, alright?”

“Buttons Buttons, she ain't gonna kill you-”

“Don’t Button’s me Sketchy! Don't Buttons me. What, in the history of the Ponish language, what sacred combination of words, can you say to make my mom not freak the fuck out?!” he huffed, starting to pace in a circle, kinda like I do actually… “Now.. she should be back from the hardware store in about an hour. The autowagon is fucked so a 3-minute drive is now a 40-minute walk.”

“She went out there all on her own?”

“Well yeah, She figured if she's been doing it for 200 years just fine, nopony will stop her now.”

“And you didn’t go with her?”

He set the mug down to drag a hoof across his face. “Sketchy, I have bigger problems than that right now. Do you need to make a phone call? Get some ponies to help you get the dead zebra off my living room floor? Please do so.”

“A…phone… call?” I smiled sheepishly earning another long stare from the begrundled ghoul, the silence only broken by Moonstone’s grunts and the creak of the floorboards.

Fortunately, his eyelids were still there and he blinked real slow like. “You gotta be fucking kidding me… Scoots didn’t put phones in the stables?!”

“No!” I hid behind my hooves and the coffee mug. “The stable had an internal radio for the intercom system and pipbuck network, but that's it!” Placate him with answers! Placate him!

“Get him the fuck out of my house before she gets here!” he ordered pointing at the body.

“Alright alright.” I tried to soothe the angry ghoul. “It's all cool, it’s cool. We don’t wanna mess your house up, we just… need to hide this body is all.”

“Mess my house up? You're messing my house up right now!” He gestured to the long blood streak between the door and the corpse. “There’s a red fucking line of zebra blood from here to-” he trotted over to the door and leaned out. “Holy shit! Four marefucking blocks and around the corner?!” he couldn't believe it, I couldn't believe it, I didn’t know a pony.. Err zony could have this much blood in him! “My Mom is going to murder us!”

“I know! But this is a bad situation for us too! I mean.. Like.. he was important, I think! Or a ghost, or something! We gotta get rid of him or we could die too!”

“Then why did you bring this dead ass here?!”

“Cause you're the only stallion I know that has a basement!” to be fair, my qualifications for places to hide bodies should be longer than ‘basement’ and ‘guy I know’.’

“I barely know you!!”

“I know! I’m fucked no matter what, but I had to try!” I exclaimed throwing my hooves in the air.

Buttons looked between me, the body, and the blood trail before he rubbed his temples. “Just…you…ughh… bury him by the stream out back.” he pointed out the door.

“There’s a stream?” Moonstone, Lucy, and I all said in unison looking to Buttons.

“Well yeah, You didn't see it? It’s literally just downhill from the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.” he nodded in the general direction. “It's only like… an inch deep.”

Turns out, there was a stream behind the neighborhood, but it wasn't an inch deep. 200 years of nopony pumping out groundwater has resulted in this crystal clear stream being ass deep in some places. It was the most water I’d ever seen in one place, and I got to see the stable purification system that one time.

Now that we were out of the city proper, we could bury this Moko doppelganger/potential ghost anywhere. We settled on a spot much further downstream stream as to not contaminate the water we could potentially drink. ButtonMash begrudgingly let us use his mom’s shovel and Lucy provided moral support… but mostly workshopped how to best break the idea of Enclave refugees moving in to Button's mom. They had to live somewhere…right?

After many trials, tribulations, and a lot of shoveling we got Moko buried in equafirma. Some part of me wanted to wack him with the shovel a few times just to be sure he was dead and not a ghost, revenant, or ghast that’ll come back to bite me in the ass…but in the end it seemed this was just some zony. I will begin to process reflexively murdering an innocent buck… after I get a bath. Lucy went to organize the enclave members while Moonstone went back to help de-blood Cream-Heart’s floor with Buttons.

I went back up to the part of the stream just beyond the backyard of the final house on the cul-de-sac and gazed into the water. Flowing at a steady pace, cool to the touch, crystal clear, and a bed of large pebbles and mud. The shoreline was strewn with plants seemingly forever locked in a state of half-decay or sprouting with new-ish greenery. I waved my pipbuck over it to see if any rads were coming off it and it took a whole six minutes before It made a single feint ‘tick’.

“Clean enough!” I cheered taking my first ginger steps into the stream. “Cold, cold, cold! Ahhhhh~” I sighed as the cool water washed over my blood-caked body. It would take a lot of effort to clean my suit, but the water was a good first step. The water was deep enough to stand in yet keep your withers above water if you wanted to. I didn't. This was the first bath, much less shower, I'd taken since that night in PJ's room. It was cold…not like freezing, but a nice cold. Like the water you drink after a day in the mines, or sitting in a river after two days of mass pony slaughter. Two whole days of fighting, killing, and bathing in the blood of my enemies… three if you count that raider toll booth I mowed down. All the physical reminders of those events washed off of me, forming a great red smear that flowed downstream… I could float here… in fact.

“Quibbit.”

I let myself sink into the water and float there like a depressed rubber duckie, I went face down in the water letting the current wash my mane for me. “Gurgled flergbbt…” I bubbled under the water just letting it all go, not even feeling the need to breathe. That was when another great realization the wasteland had to offer hit me. I pulled my head up from the water with a gasp, wet mane falling over my face. “I’m a fucking psychopath…” When I left the stable, everything was scary. When I killed Brick in self-defense I was so torn up about it that I thought I was going to be dragged to Tartarus for murder. And now… “I’ve killed more ponies than every murder and execution in the history of 83 combined… and all I feel is tired,” I mumbled to myself, gazing into the rippling water of the stream, droplets falling off my glasses. I’d been surviving for little over a week.. and I was already numb.

“Quibbit.”

How does a mare even begin to process not only taking a life but having taken so many that she doesn’t even feel bad about it? I couldn’t even remember what most of them looked like-

“Quiiiibbit!”

“WHAAAT?!” I snapped turning right to the source of the sound next to me, hooves curled up ready to sock whoever was doing it. But it wasn't a pony… Floating there being inspected by the tiny princesses was a small, fuzzy, bright yellow amphibian-looking thing. Small enough to fit in my hoof, the creature floated there effortlessly. Four little webbed feet gently paddling under the surface keeping it effortlessly in place. It stared at me, occasionally blinking its large wet eyes, gazing into my soul through those orange orbs and slitted pupils.

“Quibbit.” it croaked… or quacked. I wasn’t sure, I couldn't recall ever reading about a creature like this in surface class, then again surface class didn't tell us anything about rad roaches either.

“Please tell me you aren't another figment of my imagination…”

“Quibbit.” came from my left side this time and when I looked there was another one floating there, staring at me. When I double took to the original there were now two on my right. Left again there were three more. “Quibbit” the mass of gently floating creatures quoked around me. Many more were emerging from the plants, taking perch on various leaves, dead branches, and large rocks. There were dozens of the things and I guess they’d been hiding up to the point I seemed harmless.

“Well, this is adorably intimidating.” I scooped one up with my hoof and its little legs kept gently paddling through the air while it looked around, eventually going limp once it realized it no longer needed to swim. “It has the shape of a frog… but it’s covered in yellow fuzz like a baby duck. It has four legs like a frog… but webbed feet like a duck… well frogs have those too, but these are orange with lil' claws. What are you?” I squinted through my wet glasses at the creature.

“Quibbit!”

“An astute argument, but not an answer I’m looking for.” I pondered, eagerly welcoming this distraction from my existential crisis about my own moral decay. “Ducks quack…and frogs ribbit… Quibbit?”

“Quibbit.” it responded, along with a chorus of other creatures joining in for a few moments.

I sighed. “This… this is almost as bad as the tato incident. Another affront to the goddesses finds its way into my hooves…and it’s cute.” they blinked at me and I groaned. “Great! Now I gotta name you guys!”

“Quibbit…”

“Alright listen here you frog.. duck.. hybrid.. things! I discovered you so I get to name you whatever I like. Unless you guys prove to be sentient like Brad. Speak up now if you’re capable of higher thinking!” I offered looking around at the gathered yellow creatures. I took their silence as a no.. “Alright, cool name for a new species… of frog…duck…. frog…. duck… drog?” my horn glowed and an ethereal lightbulb appeared above my head. The perfect name crawled forth from the enlightened parts of my mind! “Oh oh! That's perfect! I’ll call you a Fu-”

“-cking awesome party last night, am I right?” came a voice from behind me, familiar, too familiar, dead familiar. The Applewood prince, pristine as ever, smiling, standing on the shore behind me.

I reacted the only way appropriate to such a surprise.

“AHHHH!!!” I screamed like a filly, yeeting the little yellow guy in my hoof.

Level up!
Perk unlocked: Medic(rank 1)
-On-the-job experience works like no other am I right? Your familiarity with magic bandages, healing potions, and radaway has grown. These items now restore 40% of your total health and remove 40% of your rads respectively.

Achievement Perk!: Zoologist (rank 1)
-You discovered a creature! +5% more damage both with and against creatures you have tamed or killed.

Chapter 16: Superstitous

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quibbit~

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

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

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

Quibbit~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah!!” he cheered.

Quibbit~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah babe?” he stopped, looking back.

“How are you alive?” I squinted harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And that is?...”

“Food~”

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

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

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

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

“Too good? Wuh..”

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

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

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

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

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

“How?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…” I meeped.

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

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

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

I hissed. “About that…”

He squinted. “No…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vinegar?...”

“White vinegar specifically.”

“ Like the stuff I wash my suit in?”

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

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

“Sketchy…”

“Yeah?..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Squeeeeeak~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did I think about what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Her career exploded overnight…” I thought aloud.

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

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

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

“Including you and your mom…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like?”...what?…I had to ask!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” I'm not a narc!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously? How old do I look babe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

“And anypony who complained?...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s suicidal! And dumb!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will somepony bucking help me already!?”

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

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

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

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

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

PWOOOOM!!

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

“CUUUT!!”

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

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

Author's Note

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

Chapter 17: Applewood-Rain (part1)

“CUUUUUUT!!”

I froze like the mythical deer creatures of pre-wars past. Eyes turning and off to my left was an equally frozen crowd of ponies. Each held various props, cameras, snacks, guns, and costumes while one stood out in particular. Sitting there in a rickety cloth/wood folding chair was a ghoul, an angry ghoul… with stripes.

He stood, slammed his megaphone to the ground, and turned to the ponies behind him while pointing at me. “Which one of you fucking incompetents told the stable mare to come out NOW?! We aren't even doing that shoot till Monday! And now I’m down another prop!” he raged “We were this close! This FUCKING close to having it just right I-” He laid into the crew whom all cowered, winced, or tried to sneak away.

This was the most pissed I've ever seen somepony wearing a beret, much less a zebra…ghoul… Zebra ghoul. Ghebra? Zhoul? He was about as held together as Ditzy-Doo. A few patches of missing fur, some chunks of flesh, the skin around one of his eyes gone despite said eye looking perfectly intact… it was gross. He wasn't the only ghoul either, a fair few of the better-dressed ponies in the room were ghouls too, most manning the fancy equipment or directing other living ponies around. Wait… directing… He’s a director… and… is this a film set?!

I looked back to the zhoul. Noting the rings under his eye(s), the big black star on his flank, the pre-war pants with suspenders, and how familiar he looked. Was this Moko’s dad? But that couldn't be possible, he’s a ghoul! Apples don't fall from a dead tree…maybe he became one after Moko was born? “D…Dr. Zeeb?” I squeaked.

“-If I find out which one of you fucked this take up, I’ll have you sent to the prop department! And YOU!!” he turned to me pointing an accusatory hoof. “Who told you THIS was the scene to come out and kill the raider? Hmm?! You aren’t supposed to be here until scene 18 AFTER my dumbass protagonist over there gets captured. Do you have any idea how far this sets us back?!”

I don’t think I've ever been this berated this hard… did… did I just kill an actor? Oh godesses not again! “I… I uhh…” I shrank ever inward, ready to collapse into a black hole.

“Come now, speak up! It's what I pay you for!” he growled tapping his hoof impatiently as he looked me up and down. “Wait, did one of my assistants hire you or are you another one of the whorehouse strays we let in?”

“N-neither…”

He facehoofed. “Stars curse me she’s a stutterer.” he groaned holding his face before looking back at the crew. “Alright, which one of you cave-ponies let her in? Speak up now if you wanna save her from replacing the prop she just wasted.”

I don’t know which was more concerning, that he was referring to the ‘raider’ I just shot as a prop, or that he wanted me to replace him. “I…”

“You know what? Fuck it, we're starting over with fresh talent! From the top!” He shoved over a nearby table of pre-war foods before one of the better-dressed ghoul-icorns came over hovering a pistol on a silver tray.

The ‘raiders’ still on the set started backing away. “P-Please! we did our parts as you said! You promised we could go-”

Bang!-scream-Bang!

I was a statue watching the ‘props’ drop holding holes in their respective throats, writhing, bleeding out. Meanwhile, Dr Zeeb gave a vented sigh taking the pistol from his teeth and putting it back on the tray. “Thank you Boom-Shaker, would you be so kind as to go and get the replacements? I need a moment to recollect my focus.”

“Of course sir~ Same colors or free choice?” the grey ghoul nodded, taking the smoking gun.

Dr Zeeb sat back down in his folding chair and gave Boom-Shaker a dismissive wave. “Surprise me~ A little change might prove inspiring.”

“Very well sir~” Boom-Shaker left, at which point the whole crew sprung back into action moving props and dragging the bodies away.

I went to backstep to the hole in the wall when he called out again. “You there.” he barked making me wince and look back to him. “You’re lucky the costume department is busy today. I hope you realize that silly suit saved your incompetent fucking life.” He glared but relented with a sigh. “But since you’re new I won’t ask you to take it off just so I can shoot you. As you learned something.”

He didn’t try to waste me cause cleaning my suit would've been a hassle?! It was brave Sketchy time! “Yeah, I learned you’re a fucking psychopath.” I glared back holstering my spent flintlock back in my saddlebag. I was one to talk…but still!

The crew backed away in fear but he took a raspy venting breath and raised a decayed brow. “Brave for a new girl…” he looked me up and down like he was sizing up what he wanted from the cafe lunch line. “Scrawny but surprisingly healthy, average height.. No an inch under. Decent mane to coat contrast..”

“Very healthy compared to those ponies you just murdered,” I added squinting back with the same disdain he seemed to be giving me.

His brows lowered in a pensive glare… what was left of them. “And titanic metaphorical balls to counterweight those ridiculous fucking glasses on your face.” oh now that's low! Leave the glasses out of this! “Were you one of Asadan’s girls? Cause I don’t remember buying you or plucking you from the charity bin.”

“None of the above, but I get the feeling whoever this Asadan guy is wouldn't have done that to ‘em.” I pointed to where the ‘props’ got shot.

He made a snort and smiled a bit.

“What? What's so funny?”

“I rarely say this, but you're right.” he chuckled, mostly to himself and growing a smug smile. “That insect would have put far more holes in those raiders.”

“Yeah he-.. Wait..” I squinted looking between him and the blood smears left from where the ponies got dragged away. “You were just calling them props, why call ‘em raiders now? You had a whole deponyization thing going on a moment ago.”

“Because they aren’t ponies you simple girl. They’re raiders.” he rolled his eyes tapping a hoof on the arm of his director's chair. “You know how expensive things would get if I didn’t source local talent?”

Sketchy.exe was processing to the best of her ability, but much to the relief of her mental integrity the pony I shot was a raider all along! Conscience clear! That was easy… too easy.. “Maybe if you didn’t kill them….”

“Yeah, no.” he scoffed, “Welp that’s enough humoring the new girl, did we find out which one of you wretches hired her?” he looked around at the rest of the crew whom all but the ghouls were rapidly shaking their head no. “Then who?!”

As if on cue a metal door next to the snack table slammed open with a clang, boxes of pre-war food over falling to the floor…again. “HEY DAD! Did you see a scrawny-ass stable mare come through here- oh there she is.” It was Moko! I’d never thought I’d be glad to see Moko in a nonsexual context, but here I was feeling saved somehow! He waved, and I waved back.

Do ghouls have blood pressure? Cause I could have sworn I saw Dr Zeeb’s remaining veins bulge as he tensed and gripped his chair with the restrained fury of a thousand stubbed hooves- suddenly turn with a doting smile. “Moko My boy!~” he hopped up from his chair with a smile and walked over to his ‘son’. “Where have you been? You had me worried. Cherry’s goons hold you up? Club Street try to shake you down? Or do I need to torch whatever drug den that made you forget why you were out?” he asked so casually like such things were everyday occurrences. Given how he treated his ‘props’ they probably were normal activities.

“Nah not anything like that dad~” Moko smiled too and the semblance was…uncanny. Dr Zeeb looked like a more shriveled-up version of Moko, or should I say Moko looked like a rehydrated version of DR Zeeb. Minus how DR Zeebs cutie mark thing was a solid black star compared to Moko’s stripes woven into a star shape. “Just giving the tour to uhh….umm…” he tapped his chin a few times looking at the floor thinking. “Scorchy over there!” he pointed over at me. “Ran into her on the way back and she seemed cool so, ya know~ grand tour!”

“Sketchy…” I muttered in the background.. Feeling the energy drain out of me.

Dr Zeeb took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “Moko, my boy, my big, handsome, and loveably scrambled boy… please tell me she's not another mare claiming you knocked her up.” WHAT?! We- no!! [10INT] Zony’s are sterile!

“No Daaad, its cool, it's not like that at all. At least I don't think it was…” he pondered for a few moments more. “Nah, she can still walk straight, I met nerd babe over there at the Coltifornia. She was stabbing this shit out of all these-…. Ohhhhh riiiight. The hotel…” he hissed shrinking inward like he knew there was a scolding incoming.

“Yes Moko~” his ‘father’ put a hoof around his shoulder and pulled him closer. “The hotel. Normally I’d ask where my new pega-props are, but I hear somepony burned down the ONLY PLACE THAT SELLS THEM!!!” the ‘crew’ had just started resetting the snack table again when DR zeeb let go of Moko to kick it over again. Those poor canned beans…

“Okay Okay, I can explain Dad, just chill! It wasn’t me! I think…” the big zony glanced around nervously backing away from his father a little.

“You THINK?!” Dr Zeeb kept approaching “How the hell am I supposed to get the ‘DR Zeeb’s Wasteland Adventures 8’ off the ground without authentic Enclave props?! The subtitle says ‘Fall of the Enclave’ for a reason!”

“Look, it's not my fault okay! And I was gonna buy them but the hotel caught fire n stuff!”

“No shit!”

“I mean I didn’t start it!”

“Then who? Who had the titanium balls to torch the Hotel Coltinfornia?! Cause Club Street and the Aristocrats are looking for somepony to blame! Cherry would brag about it and she ain't said shit, Leo never leaves his territory, So who do you think they’re looking at?”

I never thought of myself as having titanium balls… but the mental image did give me a pretty good idea for the next fic I write. I was technically the one who destroyed the hotel Coltifornia. I ‘Technically’ also killed ALOT of hookers and mercs too... “Ahem…”

“I uhh…” Moko tried to think aloud…and failed.

“The assholes who were BUYING FROM THEM!!!” DR zeeb continued.

“Arn’t we those assholes?..”

Dr Zeeb groaned and rubbed his temples with his hooves. “Yes my boy, that would be us. And by the stars if I found out the hotel burned down cause you tried to roll up and smoke the curtains I’ll-”

“AHEM!” I coughed louder.

Dr Zeeb's head snapped back to me. “Who said you could talk DOLL? I’m in the middle of a civil discussion with my son right now.”

“No, you’re just yelling at him as assuming he fucked up again.” I countered.

He took a step towards me while the crew scattered. “I’d have to explain what ice is for a waster like you to grasp how thin yours is.”

I stepped too “Uh-huh. And I'd have to explain what a heartbeat is to a ghoul like you. Maybe then you could grasp the concept of being heartless.” Wow, these metaphorical titanic balls are heavy… and going to get me killed!

“Too brave to know your own place little girl. You aren't the first tramp Moko’s drug home. So many thought they were hot shit cause they had my son wrapped around their little hooves. They usually left in a box if I felt like sparing one.”

“Well con-grad-u-lations, despite my name I’m neither a chem dealer nor a hooker. I’m the mare that torched the hotel and got your oddly immortal son home. And surprise, I didn’t fuck him!”

“That last part is the only believable thing you just said, barely!”

“Uhh dad…” Moko interjected “That’s her.”

He looked back “That’s her what Moko? Shake the dash out of your system and give me complete sentences.”

“She uhh…” Moko shook his head and blinked a few times. “Sheeee… yeah no it was totally her. Stable babe went on a rampage and took me back to her place. I mean it was an awesome party right, and I brought her along so we could go to a club later…err..and tell you the hotel burnt down.” I couldn't tell if Moko was intentionally trying to throw me under the minecart or not.

“Bullshit, she looks like a stiff breeze would knock her over. Safflower would use her pelt to soundproof more of her walls.” she did WHAT with pony pelts?!

“Did too!” Perfect response me as always.

Dr Zeeb wasn't even acknowledging me at this point, he was too busy fuming. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to get the other warlords off my ass?!”

There was a click and a zip of a spinning cylinder as every ghoul and a couple of ponies drew guns and pointed right…at…me. The sudden commotion pulled DR Zeeb's attention to the scrawny gray mare with a golden revolver and blood-stained candelabra floating next to her. For the love of the Goddesses I needed to be stone-faced Sketchy right now. I could scream and piss my stable suit later, but for now, I needed to posture! He may have all of his film crew cowed but my massive metaphorical dick demanded respect! Fake it till you make it Sketchy! It’s the Applewood way!

I wasn't aiming the overcompensation cannon at anypony but there sure were a lot pointed back at me. Bonus points to the asshole in the rafters who put a blinding ass spotlight on me. “If I can have your mare fucking attention, I’m Sketchy, and this is the candelabra I used to polish the Hotel Coltifornia’s floors with Safflower’s brains! And this!” I cocked the revolver. “Is the mare fucking gun I took off her corpse before I painted a blood angel on her lobby floor and mounted her head on A PIKE!!” I stepped down from the rubble I’d entered upon and approached, many a gun following me. “I was even mentioned on the fucking radio! And last I checked it’s pretty hard to get DJ pon3 to do that!”

Well, I had everypony’s attention…better keep digging this hole deeper! “And I’m sorry if my sudden appearance is inconvenient to you, But-” ahem “Fuck you!” I pointed the revolver right at the warlord, earning many a sighted rifle at me.

Whispers were being exchanged by the crew on if they should take the shot or not, but it was ‘the director’s’ call. Aka the Zebra ghoul watching me VERY intently. Scrutinizing…

“When a mare has to drag her titanic bucking foal-makers across to wasteland to get your son home safe, she expects to be treated like a PONY! But what do I get? Insulted, belittled, and a free ticket to your grade-A parenting. Maybe blowing your rotten legs off would remind you what common courtesy means.”

Dr Zeeb was about as amused by this as a pony might expect. Glaring indignation “And what makes you think I’d let you leave here alive? Walking into my studio uninvited, ruining my scene, killing my props, and threatening my life. I’ve given mares suicide roles for less.”

“Cause I don’t need to kill everypony here.” I scanned the room noting the three-dozen equestrian-freedom dispensers pointed at my personage. “Just you. Aint no amount of lackeys jumping in front of you gonna stop a round this fucking big. Nopony ever realizes that bodyguards are useless if the assailant doesn't care if they die too.” I leaned in a bit. “And after everything I heard about you, and everything Safflower did for you, I'd ride high into the embrace of the Goddesses knowing I killed a monster like you.”

“Fucking zealots…” Dr Zeeb muttered keeping his focus on me while a wide-eyed Moko was slowly shuffling his way back towards the door he came from.

Yes dear reader, I’ve dug myself a hole so deep that I just might reach Neighpon if I didn’t put the brakes on. I’m getting out of here alive, and thank the goddesses Daddy’s big book of social manipulation gave me the perfect tool. Chapter 17: ‘The Undercut.’

I could cut a donut out of the tension in the air and spread jelly on it. It was a Mexicolt standoff and one of us was leaving here in a box…That is.. Until I put on the best cutsie smile I could. “How was that?” I suddenly beamed pointing the golden gun back up in the air. “I mean I was really getting into it there~” I giggled to myself swaying in place.

The art of the undercut, not to be confused with a fake-out or a social juke, is to intentionally make a situation look really REALLY bad (or good) and when you reach the crescendo of of your act ‘undercut’ them. Nopony is ready for the sudden gearshift from hostile to super friendly (or vise versa, AKA ‘betrayal’).

Everypony else mentally screeched to a halt, one guy even fell from the rafters landing on a pile of cardboard cutouts. Dr. Zeeb even blinked his one remaining eyelid in sync with Moko’s. “What?...”

“Well, I got the impression you didn’t think I could act so, I improvised. Moko said you liked mares who could get shit done so... What better than to act like a ‘Mare that really wants to get shit done’.”

He sighed as the tension fell way. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Well, preferably not~” I swayed on my hooves maintaining that bubbly demeanor. “It was just, ya know, Improv. And all of you believed it too!” I pointed a hoof at all the crew above and below pointing guns at me. “You totally thought I was some wack-ass crazy-mare posing as an actor to assassinate your boss.”

One earth-mare in the back peered from behind a massive spotlight where she had taken cover. “It was pretty convincing…” The rest of the peanut gallery agreed, and once I find out what peanuts are I’ll figure out if I used that phrase correctly.

One squint to the aforementioned mare Dr Zeeb looked back to me “As Impressive as that may be for some on-the-fly improv, it's pretty dangerous of you. You were this close to becoming a stain on my set.”

“Oh it wasn't Dangerous, It was method acting.” I nodded.

“Do you even know what method acting means?”

“Yeah. It’s where you use your own experiences as a basis for your performance.” another fun tidbit I got from Dad’s book.

“And what experience could you possibly have to base your little act on?”

Time for undercut 2: Electric Boogaloo! “Oh, that’s easy. Most of what I said was true. There were a few minor discrepancies, like I didn’t kill Saphlower with the Candlebra.” I gave it a wagle. “There were these hookers right, and whatever you might be thinking, they started it, and I ended it.” I gave the candelabra a few tinks on the concrete floor.

He blinked again…

“What actually happened was Saffower kidnapped a friend of mine and I reacted accordingly… by burning down her hotel. I guess her fire extinguishers weren’t up to code.” I shrugged recalling the series of events. “But no I didn’t smear her brains across the floor.”

“So who killed her?”

“Oh that was still me. I ripped her head off with my bare hooves and put it on the pike she kept threatening me with. And uhh… “ I counted off on my hoof trying to see if I got everything. “Oh yeah, I got his awesome gun!”

“Is that thing even real?-”

“Yep!” I pulled the-

BOOOOM!!

The golden gun boomed as I put a new two-foot wide skylight in the roof of his his studio. “Told ya it was real.” I looked up at the new beams of light coming in from outside and hissed. “Ohhh.. right… I’m not outside. Sorry ‘bout your…roof. I uhh..” I gently nudged the new debris into the pile of other debris that had been used as set pieces. “There… Like it never happened.”

He looked up at the new hole and then back down at its maker. “So you’re the one from the radio. No way in Tartarus Safflower parted with ‘Flower Power’ willingly. And if you have it… she’d dead.”

“Yeah I- It has a name!?” I gasped looking stunned at the gilded hoof-cannon.

Dr Zeeb Facehooded. “Moko my boy.. Would you-” Moko had vanished. “Moko?” only to be spotted chatting up that one mare that spoke up earlier, laying on the mare slayer eyes. “Moko!! Stop trying to fuck the starlets and take our ‘guest’ anywhere but here!”

Said mare squeaked and fled the set while Moko made an upset “Ughhh…I wasn’t going to plow the romantic interest… not yet anyways.” he scratched is chin for a moment glancing around the room looking lost for a moment. “Oh yeah, the tour!”

“Yes, the tour…” Dr Zeeb pulled at his face for moment before letting the rotten flesh spring back.

“This way!” Moko Cheered slamming the Exit door open yet again sending the snack table to the floor…again.

—

I followed Moko around the complex getting the best half-baked tour I’ve gotten I’d to date. He kept forgetting which buildings he showed me and kept asking if I had any Dash. I got the gist of it though. DR Zeeb was some kind of pre-war ghoul that used to some be kind of famous actor/director thing. Moko’s lack of details aside, at some point Dr Zeeb got enough pre-war ghouls together and took over the studio district of Applewood. Something something.. reviving the movie industry.. something something..Moko has a great ass and anypony who says I’m easily distracted is a liar!

Moko spun around “And that's the tour!”

I, who was NOT staring at his fine zony ass reacted accordingly. “Ah! Who? What? Huh!” I frantically looked around at my new surroundings. Row after row of faded white domed studios, ponies pushing around crates, and an ample number of well-dressed ghouls serving some kind of middle management role.

“Yeah I know, its kinda boring, but we do get visitors from all over the wasteland visiting the theater doll.”

[INT10] The word ‘theater’ pulled forth memories of being in class watching old films on the projector, back when it still had a bulb. That however was a pale imitation of the grand theaters mentioned in history books. Places where hundreds of ponies gathered regularly to watch plays, movies, etc. A distribution center of culture if you will. “And that’s literally all you guys do here? Restore and play really old movies for random ass travelers to watch? That doesn’t sound like something that would make you a feared regional warlord.”

“Well there’s that…” he started before trotting over the derelict remains of a golf cart and pulling out a scuffed red inhaler. “But dad always said the bigger picture was that we provide all the non-lethal entertainment Applewood has to offer.” He added before shaking the inhaler and taking a deep huff. The hiss of the strange inhaler went on and on until he let it all out with a VERY relieved sigh. “Ohhh fuuuuck I needed that..” he said, reddish mist spilling from his mouth. “What were we…oh right, that ah..erm… Well, the massive fucking stockpile of explosives helps.”

Sketchy64.exe stopped responding “...the what?”

“Oh yeah the firework shows we put on every night are awesome right? Really makes Applewood come alive~”

“I mean How!”

“Ohhhhh…yeah that makes sense. Well Dad’s old as shit right? So get this, he used to work here before the war, aint that cool? What are the odds am I right?”

The warranty on my goddess-given blinkers is going to be voided by the end of this archive… I blinked. “I knew that already…”

Moko continued ignoring me. “So after the bombs or whatever, he was out and about for a while but came back here to find the pyrotechnics department perfectly intact. Apparently, it was for some kind of ‘shitty war propaganda rag film’” Moko air quoted with his hooves. “Doesn’t sound like the kind of film I'd be into. I’m more of a sex, drugs, and violence conseur when it comes to movies babe. Glad you brought it up.” the silence that followed him was long and noticeable…idly smacking his lips. “Yep…pretty cool~”

“Is uhh…”

“Hey! You wanna go get high with the porn stars?” he asked in a burst of energy, getting all up in my face and wiggling in place like a foal on Hearths warming day.

“WHAT?!” I flailed…majestically…tumbling backward…also majestically!

And just in time to save the day, or as some might consider ruin it, was DR Zeeb. “I see my son is giving you the obscenely abridged version of the story.” He’d changed vests and now had a ghoul following him with a tray of bottled waters. This must be his casual outfit… “He didn’t give away the password to the explosives stockpile again did he?”

Moko rolled his eyes and huffed. “No Daaad, I didn't tell her the password was my birthday again. You ask me this like every time I bring girls here Gaaahd!” his head tilted back in exasperation, before realizing what he just did. “Oh wait…”

Dr Zeeb facehooved with a groan. “Damn it Moko…” before turning to me. “As you can see I have a thousand and four reasons not to give Moko a copy of the house keys. But more importantly, now that I have you outside and in full view of the snipers, why exactly are you here?”

“Snipers? What Snipers?” A little Luna appeared pointing up to the studio roof lines, where I saw a number of ponies just barely peeking over the edge with guns. “Oh, those snipers…” I’m going to start internally screaming now. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! -wait a second. “Moko!” I yelled back to the Zony accusatorily. “You led me into a trap?! Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!”

“What?! Nooo!” he blacked away. “I didn’t know he was going to do this, I thought we were headed to the club. It's not like he does this every time I bring mares home…” he blinked as his memory kicked into gear again. “Okay well he did it this one other time…and that other time… a few times actually… I’ll stop talking now…” Moko sank dejectedly.

“My question.” Dr Zeeb glared. “Still needs answering. You burn down the one place I could buy enclave props for my film, and waltz in here thinking my son would shield you? I think you may have noticed, but my boy doesn't make for a very good meat shield.”

“Does too! I mean look how big he is-...Moko?” There was a distinct Moko-shaped vacuum where the stallion used to be, and with a little pointing from a tiny celestial, I spotted him waving from down the block. “Damn it Moko!”

“Just like his mother, he’s a ghost until he want’s something from you.” Dr zeeb commented before I turned back to face him directly.

Okay, my grand undercut and good-vibes combo-strat didn’t work as well as I thought it did. Well this sucks… I literally just came here to go to the club! But he’s not gonna believe that, I mean look at Him! All grumpy and dead inside! Time for plan Q! Mutually assured destruction. “I don’t want anything from you. I want something that never belonged to you to begin with.”

“Praytel what might that be?”

“The rest of the pegasi you ‘purchased’ from the ‘totally not slavers’ I killed.” I air quoted.

“Well so far it looks like neither of us are getting what we want here. Really wasted a trap and a performance thinking I wouldn't just kill you for inconveniencing me, much less ruining my set.”

The same pistol ghoul from before came along with the same pistol as before. “Your gun, as requested sir~”

“Thank you Boom-Shaker~ Feel free to stay around, I’ll only need this for a moment.” He said taking the gun and checking how many rounds were left in it. “And let’s not forget the political shitstorm you've left in your wake. But I’m sure your head will suffice in getting Club Street and the Aristocrats to calm down. I might even make a short film about it~”

Inhale~ get creative. “Sounds like a plan, a good plan, except you forgot one itty witty bitty smitty hmmity problem…” Why did saying it like that make him glare harder. “The other pegas want their squad mates back. The whole platoon.” I squinted. “A.L.I.V.E Alive~”

“And I should care because?...”

“Because you like keeping your neighbors out of your business.”

Remaining brow rose.

“Well after I freed them from the Hotel Cotifornia they needed a place to stay. And they did, thanks to me, Riiiiiiight down the fucking street from you.” I pointed a hoof to one of the auto-wagon-husk walls in the general direction of the Neighborhood. “And they know I’m here, so if I don’t come back they’ll know you’re the one who killed the mare that freed them. Then you’ll have the Enclave’s undivided attention. Armor, guns, and the fact they can fly over all your defenses, I figured that might be a problem for you.”

His stern glare carried visions of how that scenario would play out. “Do you always threaten ponies that have you at gunpoint?”

“Surprisingly yes. It worked out suspiciously well for me thus far…” I really should figure out WHY that works later. “So let’s make a deal!”

“Hmmm…” he pondered looking between me and the various sniper nests he had scattered around. “Very well, this whole situation has proven at least a modicum inspiring, so I’ll hear you out. I might even consider it if the price is right.”

I rubbed my forehooves together feeling it all come together, Mmm yes~ “I have something you want, and you have something I want. And we can both get what we want without the other really losing anything.”

“Go on~” he hummed racking the pistol with his teeth.

“You need pegas, I need pegas, we both have pegas, and the pegas themselves would very much like to not be in this situation. So we share~”

“I’m not sawing my props in half…yet. That scene isn't until I finish the scene with the dark magician. So you better get explaining, and if you do it sounding like that pink parasite again I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

“Chill, Chiiillll!!” note to future me, Dr Zeeb doesn’t like the saints for some unfathomable reason. “It’s simple. You give me all the pegas you bought.” I pointed to myself. “And YOU hire them on as actual actors or whatever.” I pointed at him. “I reunite them with their comrades,” back to self. “And you get access to more willing enclave pegasi than you had before.” I pointed back nodding song with my own points. The tiny princess nodded along beside me in sync.

And now the gun was pointed directly at me “Fine details, Small print, Now.” his brow(s) furrowed.

I leaned away from the gun a bit “You gotta pay them and agree not to kill them like the rest of your props. In exchange, the ones who are willing can either commute or stay here to work on your films as needed. And before you ask, just pay them with the caps you were using to buy them as slaves. I imagine willing actors are far more talented than ones being held at gunpoint Mr ‘hates ministry propaganda’.”

He gave me a long hard glare, so long me and the mini-princesses had sweat drops running down our respective foreheads. “I see somepony listens far more than she lets on. In another age I’d say you'd make a decent spy… or a union rep.”

I slowly raised a hoof. “What’s a union?...”

The barrel of the gun fell away and the ghoul chuckled a bit. “Oh nothing special, just a group of ponies that cared more about the wellbeing of their fellow coworkers than the whims of the ministries. If you really are a stable mare, you'd know them as ‘dirty zebra sympathizers~” he sighed in fond remembrance. “Stars above the budgets and crew quality I had back then~”

Le gasp!! He has memories!

“Tell you what. Counteroffer.” aaaand the gun was pointed at me again. “Get the fuck out of my compound and don't come back until you can prove the rest of the turkeys are game for your little idea. Then maybe we can put something in writing if they still know how to read. Until then, my props stay mine. Got it?” twas then I learned being poked in the chest with a gun is about as unpleasant as it sounds.

[INT10] “Okay, okay I get it! Stop waving that thing around, it's not a clapperboard!”

“I'm surprised you even know what a clapperboard is.” the condescension was real.

[CHA5] “Surprised enough to stop pointing the gun at me?” I put on my winning smile and a few eyelash bats for good measure.

[failure] He squinted at me with his one-lidded eye. “Get the fuck out of my studio.”

Chapter 17: Applewood-Rain (part2)

Two things, firstly it turns out the main gate to Dr Zeeb's studio is on the west side, not the east. Second, I found Moko, or should I say he found me.

“Eyy how’d it go with dad babe?” the zony suddenly appeared behind me.

“Ahh!-..oh it's just you.” I sighed, feeling the disappointment of not being startled creeping in. “wait a second… Moko! The fuck was that!?” I asked pointing a hoof back at the now-closed gates. Who knew pre-war tour buses made good gates if you plated them up and kept the wheels working? I do now!

“Uhh… what was what?” he looked back and forth between me and the gate. “The bus? Yeah, it's just a big auto-wagon babe.”

I facehoofed. “Why did you bail on me when your dad showed up?!”

He shrank. “I uhh…” he scratched his mane unable to look directly at me. “I mean you seemed to handle it pretty well. Like, you're still alive babe, that’s more than I can say about the other broads dad hates… which is a lot, but I knew you could handle it.” He gave me a patronizing pat and I just kept glaring up at him.

“Don’t pet me…” now if only I could animate my eyes to put little daggers in him. The tiny princesses were trying at least.

The hoof slowly withdrew and an awkward silence ensued. “...and he seemed like he was about to yell at me so…” he glanced around. “Are we…”

I groaned louder barely containing my grump. “Yes, we're still going to the club.”

“WOO!!” He cheered starting to trot down the street without me. “Gonna get fucked uuup!~” stopping only to take another hit of the inhaler and cough a cloud of red. “Oh fuuuuck~ I hope Asadan has some new girls.” she shivered as whatever he just huffed coursed through his system and he bolted. “Let's gooo!! I wanna break something!”

“Hey! Get back here! You’re supposed to be leading ME there you big dicked asshole!!” I can't believe this was my day, he's supposed to be leading me there, not making me exercise!

At least this mad-zony was easy to follow, not because he slowed down, but because he kept getting distracted. Smashing his face into a broken window and pretending he was a unicorn with the glass shard sticking out of his forehead for example. The first time was worrying, but then I remembered Moko was some kind of perpetual like in the comics- “Luna damn it! I forgot to ask Dr. Zeeb why Moko is mare-fucking immortal! I was too busy having guns pointed at me to remember! Ughh!!” I lamented pulling at my mane. Sadly I couldn’t voice my frustrations for long due to needing to keep up with my ‘guide’. “How far is the place anyways?”

Surprisingly Moko stopped long enough to look back. “Oh hey babe, when did you get here? Aint seen you since the party at the hotel- wait wait.. No… “ he rubbed his temples. “Oh yeah, Retchy, what uuuup? Still working that fuckdorable nerd getup I see.”

I’m gonna hit him… one day… very softly… with a wiffle bat maybe, my discontent will be known regardless of its mode of delivery! “Focus Moko, we were going to some club you keep talking about. Where the flying fuck a duck is it?”

“The club…” he pondered taking another hit from the inhaler before tossing it aside. “Oh Pshh.. there's only one real club in Applewood babe. We gotta hit Club Street out on north-west…ish… side. Busses are fucked so we gotta walk, but trust me it's gonna be sooo worth it.” he assured me nodding along. “Stars what I’d give to relive my first visit to the House of Chrysalis one more time. Might even swear off Dash… or at least lay off the med-x for a while.” he shrugged. “But nah, Club Street’s got the best shit in town babe. You ain't doing Club Street justice unless you leave there some kind of fucked up.”

Maybe I’ll hit him with something harder than a wiffle bat…. Like a twig, or a sock full of caps. “Moko… you’re telling me literally everything BUT where the club is. Like what actual street it’s on? A quarter of all Applewood is on the ‘north-west side’. You know how little that narrows it down?”

“It’s on.. Uhhh…. Club…Street? I dunno, I don't read the signs. I just point and laugh when wasted ponies walk into them.”

Worst… tour guide… ever. But he was the best distraction ever! The whole walk west-ish he’d been loud as hell, knocking things over, breaking glass, and generally being a nuisance. But I guess being mysteriously immortal really shoots you in the hoof on the self-preservation instincts. Oh, I'd hate to be a perpetual forever regenerating in some predator's den… speaking of which.

Globs with wings, that’s the best way I could describe what came flying from the nearby ruins. Fugly, boated, and dripping sickly green ichor from every crevice of its jiggly body. “What the actual fuck!?” I gestured to the flying blobs roughly the size of a sprite-bot. “Wait a second…”

[[INT10]] “They look like sprite bots because they are sprite bots!... I mean sprites! I said sprites the first time! Nopony can say otherwise!” I pointed out to the tiny princesses sitting on the pavement shaking their heads.

I didn't know a ‘buzz’ could sound wet, deep, or fat, but there it was, assaulting my ears. A trio of bloated sprites hovered their way toward Moko, somehow struggling to stay in the air, yet zipping around all over the place. Gross fact number 2: Bloat sprites spit! And judging by the maggot things oozing their way down the wall next to a panicking Moko, they spit their young as a hunting mechanism- Oh right gotta save Moko. But do I have to if he’s immortal?...yes…yes I do.

I quickly swapped the archive I totally hadn't been doodling in, for my flintlock. “Tell them to hold still Moko!” I called out trying to take aim but the sprite's flight paths were as random as my cone of fire.

Moko, to his credit, was busy running around in circles as the bloat sprites kept spitting at him. “Asking them nicely Doesn’t work! I tried! I think they want my dash!”

I facehoofed. “No, they clearly want your skin!” I fired, cracking the air with a thunderous red beam and…missed. While I certainly put a molten hole in a stop sign and the building behind it, the bloat sprites were unharmed…and turned toward me. “Uh oh…”

I dove behind the remains of a concrete barrier some ancient had left in the street dodging the green splatter. “Gross, gross, gross!” I cranked the flintlock, peeked, and fired as fast as I could while the sprites bobbed around. “I said hold still!! Wreee!!”

Moko seemed to have a better idea, slowly creeping up behind the sprites with a pipe. Where he got the pipe I don't know, I’m not that kind of pipe expert. But now I had to try not to hit him!

“Wreeee!!” I fired, over and over, devolving into a cycle of fire, duck the spit, reload, and repeat. Stationary people were hard enough to hit with this thing, but with these bugs randomly bobbing around each shot was VERY annoying.

Cracked as he was, Moko pounced a sprite from behind bringing a pipe down on it between his hooves. The bloat-sprite broke in an instant, crashing to the ground and deflating like a balloon full of puss… eww. “Actors bitch!” he cheered hitting the corpse a few more times.

Ding! Tiny Celestia appeared above my head with a little lightbulb. Hitting them in melee was a lot easier, just swing wildly! I whipped out my Candelabra in all its golden and mildly dented glory! “Hello, beautiful~” I gave the impromptu golden mace an affection stroke until I saw the princesses deadpanning at me. “What? Don’t judge me!”

Moko was getting swarmed again and that served as the perfect opportunity to-”Wreeee!!!” I charged. I was gonna beat these things to death and beat them to death I shall. Just don't get spit on.

I rapidly learned that bloat-sprites can spit pretty fast, and their spawn bite! “Ow ow ow! I rolled trying to brush the stinging grubs off me. “Just fucking great! Now I need a tetanus shot!” the nibbled spots bleeding faintly but otherwise, I wasn't missing any chunks. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find tetanus shots after 200 years of nuclear war?!” Technically the ‘war’ only lasted a day, but upset Sketchy was upset. I charged.

My candelabra smacked into the side of the nearest bloat-spite like a rotten pinata. Deforming, wobbling, and eventually exploding into a cone of goo splattering across the street. “Huh.. that felt kinda good.” I looked at my now dirty candelabra and the last bloat-spirte, a small grin curling into my cheeks. “Kinda fun too…” Sweet sweet dopamine, how hath I missed thee.

Sketchy pounce! Sketchy swing! Sketchy scores!! Bringing the candelabra down atop the bloat sprite is splattered across the road like a pancake. A gooy green pancake I’d never eat but a pancake nonetheless. “Oh yeah, two fer two! Where’s the next one?” I looked around eagerly seeking my next target only to remember there had only been three of them. “Aww damn it… I was having fun for once.” I groaned.

My slow decline into insanity aside, Moko came over tossing the pipe aside. “Oh hey Catchy, That was awesome. You were all like wham, and it was all like splat and- uhh…” he scratched his head. “What were we…oh yeah the club! This way!” he pointed and marched on.

“It’s Sketchy…” I grumbled behind him, stashing the candelabra.
—

Club Street, it's all in the name. The epicenter of all Applewood's more, ‘intense’ entertainment. A bastion of pre-war Los Pegasus wrapped in sheet metal, chem-addicts, and guns. Flashing lights and cantankerous cheering spilled over the walls advertising the ‘good times’ that lie within. An escape from the wasteland, no matter what it might cost. A den of iniquity grown into a full-blown town.

The streets leading up to the gates were cleared of debris, but as the evening sun fell the stark contrast between the buildings within and without became apparent. Out here, everything looked thoroughly combed over by scavengers, now packed with the destitute, desperate, and the damned. Rag-clad ponies huddled around trash fires, laid limply on soiled mattresses, or followed our path with predatory eyes. Needles and spent inhalers littered the sidewalks while the pavement leading to the gate was kept clear. Dirty bandages, empty cans, and raggedy foals chasing a radroach around with makeshift spears. This was nothing like Bubble Town, and nigh the polar opposite of the Hotel Coltifornia.

The desperate and discarded gathered as we approached the gate, but the guards were quick to shoo them off. “Git outta here ya fuckin’ low lifes, the prince is passin’ through. Mind yer fuckin’ manners.” one brown stallion barked, leveling his gun at the growing crowd. Many slunk back to the ruins but a few kept crawling forth.

A pale blue stallion with his ribs showing, he was the first unfortunate soul to open his mouth. “Please, surely the prince can-” Silenced by the sudden butt of a gun being smashed across his face.

“I said back your shit up! All ah yous!” he barked louder as more fled.

Yes reader, I was appalled, Moko however simply marched on as if they weren’t even there. Lost in one of his ‘Moko keeps on movin’ numbers. I felt dirty, and not just from the sprite goo. All the eyes on me, watching me follow this poser prince, low voices muttering to each other. I could imagine what they were saying as we approached the gate. I winced seeing the one beggar get whacked with the butt of the gun. I had to muster the social willpower to say something, what kind of mare would I be if I didn’t? I had some food I could spare. “Hey, I can give them something if-”

I froze, as the tip of the stallion’s barrel lit up the street in a rip of gunfire. Four seconds of ‘Brrrrrt!’ feeling both instant and an eternity. Bullets sprayed into the remaining crowd, dropping ponies to the pavement while the rest ran for their lives. The blue one, who had simply raised his hoof after getting knocked down, had five new holes along his back.

Silence was all I had to offer and plenty of it fell over the street. I didn’t know what to say. Is that what it looked like when I mowed down those raiders? No, they were armed, they were threatening us. These ponies didn’t need to die just to clear a street. I couldn't speak, but my legs subconsciously went on, set on keeping close to Moko.

“Your majesty~” The other guard gave a nod and allowed us to pass just like that. The gate rattled open, sheet metal on a wheeled segment of chain-link fence. The plethora of colored lights spilled into the street so bright it was like a portal had opened. Lights, noise, distractions, and the hustle of a crowded settlement just like Bubble Town.

I looked back over my shoulder one last time to see some scavengers dragging away the bodies. Possibly of their family, most likely their peers, at worst their next meal. And just like the doors Stable-door of 83, the gate closed behind me, severing me from the world I was just in. “I uhh… Did I just witness a mass murder because they wanted to ask for food? Why… why am I not freaking the fuck out?...Moko?... Moko!” He’d already started to wander off so one quick grab and yoink got him back. “Listen to me when I'm having an existential crisis!”

Moko blinked. “What? Couldn’t hear ya babe. Think all these chems are starting to make me go blind.”

“I…you.. What?!” Please hold while Shetchy.exe has a mild aneurysm.

“Oh Hey, we're here! And the sun is still up, we made great time. I think…” He looked down at his hoof/wrist. “I really need a watch… I was considering getting a pip-buck but I think somepony said it might explode if it detected a zony was wearing it. And I don't want my legs blown off…I have great legs.”

“Moko…” I squinted holding his head between my hooves. “Are you cursed or something? Ever since I met you the value I put into pony life has been plummeting fast enough to burn up on re-entry. I just watched half a dozen ponies get mowed down in the street and all I could of is ‘well that guy’s a dick!’” I shook him a little. “I should be losing my shit, I should have killed that guy, I should have…had any kind of reaction.”

Moko reached up and gently lowered my hooves off his face. “Nah babe, I’m just dangerously close to sober. And to me it sounds like you are stressing the fuck out. Relaaaax babe, some dead junkies ain’t the end of the world.. Again.”

“Buh…whuh…how ah. Make it come back! Last week It felt like the end of everything when I killed somepony in self-defence. Why can’t I feel jack shit now?! Why is the feeling so dull? Make it come back!” Did I sound desperate? Maybe a little… But the feeling of remorse was just a ghost of its former self. I needed to know why!

Despite my concern, a big smile crossed the stallion's face. “Oh babe say less, I know exactly what you need.”

“Wh-whats that?”

“You babe, need the ride of your bucking life! There’s this club I’m heading to right? The one that looks like a fucking tree. Well they got this awesome special they do for their regulars. And I just so happen to be one of the loyalest of customers.” he said hoof to chest oozing pride in his choice of venue. “You may be feeling bummed, but I guarantee this will send you to the bucking moon and remind you why life is so good, guaranteed.” he shook his head self-assured.

“Umm… dare I ask what is in said special?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, cinnamon? Paprika?.. A few other stripper name ingredients, I dunno. But I can guarantee it'll change your worldview.” He looked to be doing some kind of mental math for a moment, mumbling. “Carry the five… cover that loan from jerry-can.. Divide by…” something clicked. “How bout this, I’ll run ahead to the club and tell them to start getting it ready for you and you hang out here, catch your breath, chill, maybe even do a little shopping, then catch up with me at the club. Cool?”

“Yeah, you run ahead and- HOLD IT!!” He had already started to walk away when I grabbed and reeled him back again. “Hold still.”

“Yo~ hold still for what babe?”

“Just gimmie a second.” I grabbed a 200-year-old receipt off the ground and scribbled a note on it. Once done I booped it to his chest and by the holy seal of a tiny piece of tape kept it there.

‘Dear reader/bouncer, This stallion(Moko/prince) has a +1 with him and keeps wandering off. If he goes into your establishment take this note and know he has agreed to pay any and all fees, tabs, and damages for one ‘Sketchy’. Grey coat, orange-ish mane, pencil and charcoal cutie mark. Please let me in cause this forgetful *eraser marks* guy will go in without me and not say anything.’

“Perfect~” I nodded sagely, giving the note a few pats to make sure it stuck.

“Is this a note?” He looked down at it. “What's it say?”

“Uhhh… Hey look! Some dealer just spilled his stash all over the street!”

He gasped spinning around. “Freebies!! Where?!” He cheered sprinting off into the sea of lights, and ponies.

Now I was alone, free to explore the new town at my leisure, without Moko getting all the details mixed up. On the upside, I didn't ‘feel’ in danger, On the downside I was alone. If I just keep my eyes on my EFS for red blips I should be fine. I needn’t worry about being tempted by hookers and blow either.. cause I'm broke… and looking around.. There was ALOT of hookers and blow. I was more expecting blackjack(not that blackjack) and hookers but then I remembered something about all the ‘real’ gambling was in New-Pegas, not here.

Twas now I could properly take in my surroundings. Club Street was exactly as advertised, an entire town built around one street. Well, it was more than one street but ‘Club Street’ proper seemed to be their ‘main street’. Three walled-off city blocks packed to the brim with semi-restored buildings, shops, and venues of all shapes and sizes. The streets had been cleared of debris, making plenty of room for drunken ponies to stumble bar to brothel. Ponies of the night lined the corners, crowds cheered for blood around rebar arenas, and every store was open.

When I say(write) every store is open, I also mean they have every kind of store. Sure 83 had the commissary, the cafe, and the speakeasy but those were just shallow reflections of what a proper economy looked like. I give the locals a ‘B+’ for naming conventions. They had stores for everything. ‘Club street clubs’ sold, you guessed it, melee weapons. ‘The Gunshow’, ’Azzy’s Ass Blasters’, and ‘Gatling Gutters’ were all gun stores. ‘Beans by any means’ sold canned food…you get the idea.

But most importantly- “Good Goddesses a Kaboob stand!” I nearly squeed spotting the burn-barrel food-cart combo with a tree's worth of meat-covered sticks sizzling over a trash fire. Sketchy wasn’t drooling, Reader was drooling! I took the first step towards it when I realized. “Shit! I’m poor…” The tiny princesses turned out the pockets that manifested on their flanks for effect.

“You and me bocth…” slurred a voice on the sidewalk next to me.

“Ahh!” I jumped/flinched.. Bravely, only to see a brown earth stallion slumped against a pre-war liquor store that was… still a liquor store. He barely held a half-empty bottle to his side. “Uhh… hi? I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeaaash figures. Life ishit like that.” he sighed, bloodshot eyes looking down dejected.

I bit my lip trying to think of a proper way to respond, but Dad’s book didn't have a chapter on talking to drunk ponies you didn't need anything from. “Are you…okay?” I asked scratching my mane.

“Do I look buhking okay?” He huffed struggling to slide himself further up the wall he leaned on.

“Tooshay… maybe a better question is ‘why aren't you okay? Do you need like.. Help? Caps? A glass of water?...” I tried again, trying to get some good karma in after the gate incident.

“Sure, Uhh.. I could use help…”

“Perfect! What do you need?” Good deed inbound!

“Okay, now listen carefully, I need you to…hic..” he swayed. “Oh fuck it, I can't even keep the punchline straight. Shoo got a way to go back in time or not?”

Good deed faltering. “Yeah I-...Back in time?”

“Yeah, back to before I ever came to this SHITHOLE!!” he yelled yet his cry was drowned out in the ambient noise. “It was just a deck of c-cards.” he sniffed “One hand became two, became four, became four-hundred. It's not fair!”

I was getting a good mental image of what happened to this guy, and I felt bad for him but… “Why didn’t you stop?”

“I couldn’t stop, I can’t stop. Just one more hand and I’d win it all back.” he took another swig. “They took it all! My caps, my crops, my cattle, my farm, my wife, my kids..” He clinched the bottle tighter and began to weep, slumping to the ground on his side. “My Everything…And now Asadan’s loan sharks want my hide too. Going to take all that’s left of Peat-Pile and sell me off as a nameless Actor prop.”

It’s none of my business but I.. Must be.. good pony! AHHH!! “So uhh.. I’m gonna guess you’ve got nowhere to go right?”

One eye opened weakly to look up at me. “Ya zon’t gotta rub it in…” Good enough!

“So there's this neighborhood of sorts on the east side of Applewood. Kinda new, If you can make it there I’m sure they’ll let you stay.”

“And why would they do shat? I got nothing to offer, I’m a capless nobody. Another roob that lost everything to this sick schity. Woo~ look at all the pretty lights and games and girls and drugs and BAM!! They suck you dry.” he weakly slammed one hoof into another, knocking himself over in the process. ‘Pretty floor…” he groaned.

“I’ll just…yeah… I think we can help you rescue your wife and kids later. Just umm…” I hovered over another piece of scrap paper.

“Rescue?..” he slurred into the floor. “What rescue? Sheee left with the kids to stay with her parents in Good….springs…Zzz….” he was out.

“Goddess bucking damn it, that’s not as bad but family counseling is PJs department… I think.” I grumbled to myself not having the skills to solve this one stallion in particular’s problem. I scribbled directions to the neighborhood down and stuck it on him. “You’ll sober up eventually.”

Boop~

My tour resumed with a lot of looking but not a lot of touching when you’re as destitute as I. But one should never be ashamed of being poor! Is something anypony as poor as me would say. Cause I’m pretty sure I'd be going nuts in here if I still had those 600 caps. That's like… enough for 3 whole kaboobs! I think… I never stuck the kaboob in my bag to get the price off my pipbuck. ‘I shall embrace my poorness! Be molded by it! Empowered by it!’ I thought while wearing more clothes, toting more weapons, holding more crap in my bags, and having more pipbucks equipt than everypony else in town. Poor I say!!

Random Thought: Name my kid ‘Righteous Indignation’ That way they’re practically guaranteed to be some kind of buff pony helping goody four shoes. Oh, how the named occupation theory turns out to be so accurate sometimes. I mean, my parents screwed me out of being named ‘Divine-Smite!’ The least I could do is name my kid something cool… or maybe ‘Sue’ so they grow up to be a lawyer. Sadly no kids until I find a special somepony desperate enough to like me… Aww, I made myself sad.

The tiny princesses waved at me from the open pages of the archive floating in front of me. When did I even take this out? I’m getting so used to drawing and recording things I just do it subconsciously now I guess. The doodle of a massive male alicorn with a great personality and a mare-splitting erection was very important for my…research…yeah. Page Flip~

Peddlers, peddlers for days, Peddlers for weeks, and Peddlers for months. The back streets were packed to whatever gills were with ponies trying to hawk wares to drunken visitors. Most were selling some ‘fresh’ and ‘new’ take on chems, some sold junk, and one guy was even selling empty sparkle-cola bottles claiming they held ghosts. I'd seen too many real ones to fall for that scam. I don't care if the bottle screamed when I opened it, I’m not getting wrapped up in zebra voodoo!

Four types of ponies roamed the curbs of ‘club street’. The guards, patrolling and mingling like they owned the place, I mean they did but that's aside the point. The entertainers, ponies slinging vices to anypony with the caps. The users/customers, the ponies ranging from raiders to pre-war suits spending a night on the town. And lastly, the broken, Not as destitute as the ponies living outside the walls, but pretty close. Huddled in corners around trash fires, wearing rags if anything at all, and rattling cans at passersby begging for alms.

“Spare a cap for an old mare, young missy?” Spoke one elderly mare, her mane having gone white with age, her pale yellow pelt wrinkled, and a sign next to her that read ‘caps?’. She had bags under her eyes, and on her flank were tombstones for a cutiemark.

“Ah!” I jumped, having been yanked from my in-depth focus on the archive I was supposed to be filling. “Oh uhh… well this is super awkward, but I’m..broke.” I scratched my mane, feeling like I was getting bucked right in the stable-mare privilege. “Not that I wouldn’t give you like a hundred, but I just figured out caps were a thing like.. A week ago.”

“Oh that's alright dearie, I should have figured when I saw the suit.” She smiled, sadly. “Stable mares are usually too busy killing or getting killed to notice an old mare like me. I’m surprised you didn't keep walking.”

Ahh!, she got me again! Right in my squishy guilt bits! Why is it always a buck to the squishy guilt bits?! “I have food if that helps. I don't know why the other stable ponies wouldn't notice y- There are other stable ponies up here?!” I gasped. I’m not alone?! Okay, that sounded a bit self-centered after everypony I've met so far, but you know what I mean reader!

“Plenty of ‘em back home. Always had something going on, running off on some adventure, or adapting very piss poorly to the wasteland.”

Other stables! Eeee!!! I had to know where to find them. “If you don't mind me asking, where are you from ma’am?”

“Oh my, has my complexion already gone so bad mares call me Ma’am now?” She chuckled.

Accidental insult! Panic! AHHH!! “What? Nooooo, you look great! What are you uhh.. 30? 29?” Sheepish smile came forth to save the day. And it only got more depressed chuckles from the destitute granny.

“I’m from Detrot Sweetie. I came here when I was just 18 chasing a dream, so any information I have on others like you might be a few years out of date.”

Damn, granny was a heavy hitter, now she was jabbing me in the curiosity. “Chasing a dream? That's the most positive-sounding thing I heard all week! What dream?” Fresh archive page: Activate!!

It was like a light flickered in her eyes, bringing back memories of when the future was bright. “Back home my village had an old pre-war projector and every night we’d watch movies we scavenged from a nearby theater. I loved those movies, even the credits, I was in awe of all those mares from so long ago who became famous simply by being somepony else. The passion, the glitz, the glam, the fame, I wanted it all. To be able to forget myself in a role and be lauded for my skills after.” she sighed looking down to the pavement. “So I chased the silver screen to Applewood like so many others in this town.”

“So far so inspirational. But.. how did you end up..like this?” I asked trying not to offend, or sound judgemental.

“Simple, I found the stallion who’s been single-hoofedly bringing the old-world movie industry back to life. Dr Zeeb. He’s… passionate about his work to put it kindly.”

“Yeah, I've met the guy. Passionate is one word for it…”

“Then you know he’s a perfectionist when it comes to his films. But that didn’t scare me. For years I auditioned whenever he put out the call for a role, any role. Some weeks I was an extra, others I helped on the camera crew. Until one day I was given a role, a real role! My dream was finally coming true. I was to be the main damsel in distress for ‘Wasteland Wanderer VS DR Zeeb and the Moonpony Empire 4.’ Madame Charlavine~ ”

Holy shit, being bad at titles isn’t just a me thing! “So far things still sound good. Other than him starring in his own movies somehow.”

“I was successful…once. The movie was a hit with the locals, a real 8 out of 10. But I felt like an 11! At least until I met this zony at the afterparty. I was young, nieve, stupid, and he was a strapping young beast of a buck. A devil. I'd seen him around the studio, flirting with the other actresses, and arguing with the director, he seemed important. And when his attention fell on me I felt special. He used every line I'd heard him use on the other girls in the studio, but when he said them to me… it felt different, it felt real. He worked me over with honeyed words I knew were fake but.. I didn’t care.” she took a moment to sniff and wipe her nose on her wrists and rub her eye. “I thought, maybe I was special, because I wasn’t like the other mares he was plowing. So when he offered me a tray of white dust at the party and said we’d have an amazing time, I caved instantly.”

“Oh….Ohhhh…” my ears went flat, wincing as the high rise of a success story took a sudden plunge right before the climax. This zony sounded familiar, but that's way too old to be Moko given this was like.. 50-60 years ago. Maybe his grandpa? Was DR Zeeb patroning a lineage of playmare zonys as some kind of pet project? Maybe he was trying to selectively breed some kind of super actor? Focus Sketchy! Cool old lady is talking!

“I’ll never forget the feeling, I can NEVER forget the feeling. I’d never felt more alive…And I’ve never felt that alive since. No matter what I took or how much I tried, nothing could make me feel like that again. It tore my life apart. The director was done with me the instant I turned into a junkie… and now all these years later, I sleep on Sunset Boulevard.”

“Okay, so you made one mistake, trying mystery drugs one time shouldn't haunt you forever. You were young, dumb, and unbearably attractive, like me! You're supposed to experiment with all this stuff and learn first-hoof that it isn't for you.”

She sighed but smiled all the same. “You sound like my mother, little missie. So supportive and accepting but… I think she failed to realize that sentiment only holds water when the youngin’ has their parents around to save them when they fall. Mine were over 2000 miles away.”

I continued to wince inward, the longer I thought about it the more I thought about Dad. I was in the same-ish situation as this mare. The only pony in the whole world that would care deeply enough to save me no matter what was back in 83. Could be 5 miles, could be 5000 for all it mattered with the door sealed. I could be standing right in front of the door for all the good it would do me. “Do you… need a place to stay?” It was all I had to offer that would matter.

“What do you mean dearie?”

“I mean…away from all this?” I gestured loosely at the surrounding circus of violence and debauchery. “It’s still in Applewood, but… we have food, and nopony there wants to kill you.”

“You’d take in a withered old junkie like me? It's not like I can do physical labor anymore.”

“Oh please, everypony is good at something no matter the age. The goddesses gave us cutiemarks as poof of that~ Like yours!” I pointed at the two tombstones on her flank. “Just cause you got old, doesn’t mean my wild assumptions of you secretly being a badass are wrong.”

She looked back at her own mark. “Oh that? That's what convinced me to take up a career in acting to begin with.”

I blinked. “It did what?...”

“I was really good at making Nightmare Night costumes. Being good at playing dead was useful too. Certainly saved my hide dozens of times.”

“See? Useful! You can teach other ponies how to not get eaten.” I beamed gesturing a hoof between her mark and a metaphysical representation of ‘others’ next to me. “Just imagine all the ponies you could help standing next to me.” I clarified circling the air. “Come teach a bunch of wasteland noobs how to not get killed.”

“You’re serious aren't you lil missy? It’s not everyday somepony comes around offering genuine help. It's mostly everypony for themselves in the wasteland.”

“We’ll Im not most of the wasteland now am I?” Le gasp! A moment of saint Applejacky pride, bless mah hert! “And from what I hear it's us horribly nieve stable dwellers handing out 90% of that rare and elusive help you’re talking about.”

“Alright I’m onboard, but I hope you know the can ah worms yer opening dearie. There are reasons not everypony extends a hoof to every junkie they see on the street.”

“Pfffff Pshaw I say! That's a problem for future me to figure out. I’m sure it’ll be fiiine~” I said before giving the old mare directions to the Neighborhood and parting ways. To cut it short this happened about 8 more times before I found my way to the club. Moko didn’t come back for me as expected, but I did get to meet a colorful array of down-on-their-luck ponies. Who knew recruiting the poor with promises of food and shelter was so easy!

—

The Club… The heart of Club-Street’s whole operation was certainly..unique. I stood out front gazing up at the ‘unique’ building with its neon signs, flashing lights…and branches. ‘Why was Club-Street’s club a giant ass tree?’ I might ask. Cause clearly a building this important is too special to just be a restored casino. Noo that would be too basic, but a giant 7-something-story tall dead tree with windows and power lines? Yeah, that's special enough! And then I thought ‘why not?’ and that answers all the questions now doesn’t it?

“The House of Chrysalis” I read the neon sign aloud, totally not staring at the kinda hot neon outline of a grey, green, and teal mare reclining provocatively behind the sign. “Of course they named it after a demon…” I sighed to myself. “But I was invited so it's okay!” reinvigorated by my recent acts of charity I got in line and waited to get up to the bouncers. And waited…and waited….and waited… Im gonna scream… im gonna scream….I’m gonna sc- “Sweet fuck will you guys hurry the fuck-” [Patience: 1]

“You can go in.” said the suited mare infront of me.

“Scuse me?..” I meeped much MUCH quieter now.

“Yer the skrunkly lookin' mare from the note right?” She asked picking up a receipt off a nearby podium. “Grey, orange mane, pencil n shit on yah’ ass?”

“Yeah that's me…He totally forgot me didn't he?” I drooped.

“The prince would forget his head if it weren't attached, first time I seen anypony stamp a note on him though. Neat idea~ Head on in, check your weapons and anything else you want stored with the guy at the lockers. And remember, just because yer hammered doesn't mean we won't hammer yous.”

“I figured…” I added adjusting my glasses knowing this mare couldn't begin to grasp the irony about Moko losing his head.

“Yeah yeah, get in there new girl, have fun, and welcome to Club Steet.” They opened the door for me on the way in only for me to get smacked upside the snoot with a soup of smells and beaten in the ears with thumping music.

The club's interior was structured like a hollowed-out tree, with a central shaft of open-air ringed by windows to rooms on the other floors. Bases were bumpin’, ponies were jumpin’, gathered from all over the world to hear those speaker pumpin’. The only lights were the flashing ones, and colored ones spilling down from the windows to the rooms above. Smoking, head banging, drinking, strippers, blackjack(not that one), and hookers. This place was an absolute freak show.. And I was discovering just how much I loved the circus. “Holy shit they got bonfires that burn different colors to the music, this is awesome! Is that a fucking trapeze act?!” I gaped watching a mare spinning on a rope between two 3rd story windows leaving a trail of red smoke in her wake.

The only ‘normal’ light was from a little barred window below a ‘check weapons’ sign. A lone brown stallion surrounded by lockers sat inside looking bored. He had ear muffs on and silently slid me a little ticket. Name, date, checked items.

“Uh-huh, yea, sure…” I mumbled completely distracted by the show as I filled out the ticket putting my flintlock, candelabra, and Flower-Power on the counter.

He gave me a slow blink, slid the items and the ticket to himself, and slid back a little wristband with ‘83’ on it that glowed in the club's ultra-violet light. He pointed at it, then at my suit, then at the locker behind him that also said 83. Many of the other ponies had these wristbands too, a Neat extra layer of identification.

“Coool it glows!” my priorities were in order… as I put the band around the hoof opposite my pipbuck. “Hey have you seen the prince anywhere? He was supposed to come in with me!” I had to practically yell to feel like I was heard over the music.

He gave me the world's least enthused blink and shrug before he went back to playing Striped-Menace on his terminal.

“Really helpful…” I muttered looking back to the club. “Now if I was a big, super noticeable zony with no self-control, an insatiable libido, and had the memory span of a deep-fried tato where would I be?..”

I scanned the dance floor, I scanned the bar, I scanned the stripper poles… thoroughly, but no sign of Moko. “Where the fuck a duck is he?” I asked not only myself but also the tiny princesses on the ground next to me… wearing tiny gold chains, backward caps, tank-tops, and glow rings, the works… AKA too busy raving to notice me. “Damn, even the manifestations of my mild insanity and loneliness can’t help. There’s only one thing to do!-”

“Eyy Sketchy!! I didn't know you came here!” Said a sudden Moko voice from behind me.

“Ahh!!” I flailed majestically. “Will you quit doing that?! You’re shaving years off my life every time you startle me like that man!” Great! Now he’s startled me into talking like DR stims and Button-mash!

My reaction got the giggle of the two mares flanking his sides whom never introduced themselves. I knew not their names at this time, but I had a few… educated guesses. Let's go right to left cause these two will totally be plot-relevant later. The sexy blue earth mare on Moko’s left, let's call her ‘Insert-crystal-here’ given the sheer volume of sparkles in her coat, wavy navy-blue mane, fine violet eyeliner, them ‘dayum’ quality lashes, and…oh right, her cutiemark is a fucking stripper-pole with stars so… that's a given. I know assuming makes an ‘ass’ of ‘u’ and ‘me’ but DAT ASSS!! (Peak literature folks) “Dawww, Moko is this that out-of-towner you were bragging about? She’s so cuuute, looking all triggered already, it’s precious!~<3” God goddesses she's a gusher. (Not like that you degenerates!..I think.)

And the uni-mare on Moko’s right (my left), Let's call her.. ‘Dick-Magnet’. “Heh, pervert’s already droolin’.” I’m not petty I swear… I’m VERY petty! “Is she really the one burnt down the hotel? She doesn’t look like she’d get past tha’ working girls there, much less tha’ guards.” Dick-Magnet was also assuming but in this instance, it just made her an ass. Strawberry red coat like the Big-Mac hero of the old but more of a lime green mane… in fact she had every color of a strawberry from hydroponics going on. Darn, a missed opportunity to name her Strawbitch! Petty vengeance aside, she was as laden with glow rings n sticks as ‘insert-crystal-here’ was. And holy-shit am I blind, she’s hovering a literal bowl of strawberries next to her and her cutiemark is a cut open, gaping, dripping strawberry. So many missed opportunities but I am a mare of my principles and I’m sticking with ‘Dick-Magnet’. “Yer not gonna invite her up to the room with us are ya’?” she asks mid eating a strawberry.

“I beat those working girls to death with a candelabra.” I squinted at Dick-magnet in particular while gesturing back at the counter where the check-desk stallion could be seen struggling to get the candelabra in the locker just right… my dented, blood-stained, goop-smeared, golden candelabra.

Both stood there in stunned silence with eyes a little wide, looking between me and my melee weapon of choice, before slowly looking at Moko between them. “Is that uhh… true Moko?” Dick-magnet asked appropriately concerned.

Moko made a little hiss. “Welll…yeah, aaand she freed all of Dad’s future props, aaaand took out Safflower, and threatened to shoot dad too…sucks she took out Daisy thou, she had a great ass but self-defense is self-defense right?” he smiled sheepishly looking between the mares.

Dick-magnet just looked up at him with annoyed disbelief. “Moko, in what wasteland is any of that considered self-defense?”

I had the answer! “This one, Cause the hookers started it so everything that happened after was their fault..” I sat folding my forehooves as I got into a glaring contest with the strawberry uni-mare.

“Oh, wow.. Uhh..” Insert-crystal-here interjected gently putting space between me and Dick-magnet. “Daisy actually works here, like, little identity mix up there but that Moko for ya, heh.. And It’s like, Super tense in here. Like, wow. We're all here to have a good time right? Get fucked up and party?” She asked putting on a forced smile. “Can everypony be cool? Maybe hit the bar before you start hitting eachother? We gotta charge extra for that.” Crystal (let's shorten it to Crystal) asked but started nudging us along anyway trying to ease the mood. “Yeah, the bar is a great idea, Have fun, loosen you guys up.”

Being pushed along through the crowds of raving ponies by Crystal and struggling not to trip in the process was hard. But the bar went harder. I'd seen the speakeasy down in the old mineshafts of 83 but this… this was a proper bar. Less of a saloon vibe like back home and more of a flashing lights and nose candy kinda vibe. Several ponies manned the bar, all unicorns, many doing little juggling acts with the drinks, except the one that slid up to us.

“Ladies, Your Majesty.” he gave a nod while polishing several shot glasses at once. Even I couldn't split my TK than many times without tripping on something. “So, who's the new girl?” he asked sizing me up and I in turn adjusted my glasses and squinted back.

“Oh right, this is…uhh…” He had a hoof pointed at me and everything, stopping to ponder. “Erm…”

“Cmon, you can do it.” I encouraged “I don’t know how impressive it is but you've got a 4 in 10ish track record of getting my name right.”

He blinked as the ambient smoke passed in one ear and out the other.

“Yer getting warmer, I'm the one who…” I led him on.

“Who…”

“Who killed all the-”

Ding! “-hookers, yeah!” he lit up. “So like, check this out dude. This is Sketchy right, and we were at this wild bender at the Coltifornia and she came in all investigator-like, askin’ questions n’ shit. Then this one bitch pulls a knife on her right and-”

“Long story short The Hotel Coltifornia is now a pile of rubble.” I finished for him. “And since I rescued Moko from being stabbed to death by all those…mares.. He said he’d take me here, show me around, hit up the biggest club in Applewood, and get me whatever the hell a sweeper is.”

The bartender looked most surprised at the mention of a sweeper VS the destruction of a golden hotel. “Seriously Moko? Her? How many times do I have to tell you to stop offering Sweepers to ponies of sub-par constitution?”

“Hey! I have a constitution! It's like…an 8!” yeah that's a good number.

“Of 20.” Dick-magnet jipped, popping another strawberry in her mouth.

Sketchy has been insulted! Right in thee delicate unicorn ego! WREEE!! “Okay, firstly I'd say ‘fuck you’ but half the club appears to have beat me to it.”

Moko snickered, Yes! “Yeah I am pretty much half this club's income aren't I?” Nevermind…

“Secondly, I can too handle it! Gimmie one right now, Moko said he’d pay for it on the way here and the bouncers can confirm it.” I rapidly tapped a hoof on the counter.

The barkeep sighed. “Here we go again…” he muttered to himself before reaching under the counter and pulling out- a piece of paper? “Sign here please.”

I blinked down at it and started to read. “What's this?”

“It's a waver. A sweeper is the hardest-hitting drink we have, thus the name. This here states that we are not responsible if you overdose, die of alcohol poisoning, or other actions conducted by you in an inebriated state. Also, it's an agreement to pay the 500 caps for a dose of Party-Stopper in the event you do overdose.” he slid it a little closer to me.

I should probably read this, legal documents are pretty important after all. ‘Terms and Conditions-’ “Here ya go.” I slid it back, signed with my glorious signature. “So like, what kind of drink am I in for? I can take anything if it makes her look dumb.” I pointed over at Dick-Magnet.

“Hey!” she retorted, and that's when it hit me, Dick-magnet over there is just like Tulip-Patch! But if Tulip-patch had a stripper career and none of the historical baggage to justify her behavior and reveal she's just a lonely squishy mare on the inside!

He just gave me a long non-plussed stare. “You’ll be fine…” he said with zero confidence. And the show began. First the yay big cone glass, then the yard-long silly straw which I felt is what really sold me on the drink. Five bottles, a dozen pill bottles, a bike tire pump, a mortar and pestle, and a paint can all ended up on the counter.

“Now watch a master at work babe, it's one of the few things left that can fuck even me up.” always a good thing to hear from a very healthy-looking Zony with a triple deep-fried memory span.

Now I was fascinated, and concerned, but mostly fascinated. Bottles twirled and poured into the glass with his TK while his hooves powdered a pill from each bottle in the mortar. Truly the alchemy of my era, poured right into the drink turning the concoction dark and foggy.. and bubbling a little. But that was only half of it. Next some clear fluid from the paint-can into the glass till it was nearly full, then set about hooking a few of those red inhalers to the bike pump. He stuck a little tube into the drink and started pumping. The drink bubbled and gave off a familiar reddish smoke and stained the drink a few more hues of crimson. Once the inhalers were spent he pulled out a small pinkish rock, smashed it with a little hammer, and smeared the result along the rim of the glass leaving white crystals in its wake, and to top it all off… a pair of sparklers sticking out the top. “The all-in-one, the reset, the kitchen sink, or as you know it, a Sweeper…” He slid the drink to me. “Enjoy.”

I stared at the concoction presented before me. “Wow… it smells like I could run a reactor on it.”

“You technically can!” Moko pointed out, but looked far too giddy at the situation. He was bouncing a little in place, eagerly waiting for me to take a sip like a colt waiting for birthday presents.

“Well? You gonna drink it or wuss out and let it go flat?” Dick-Magnet goaded.

Little did she know I have the emotional fortitude of hardened steel! I was well past petty tricks from Dad’s book like ‘peer pressure’ and ‘ego stoking. and- “Yes I’m gonna drink it!” I pointed at her before snatching the silly straw with my TK and bringing it down to my mouth. I sipped and it tasted… weird. It was a bit fruity, it fizzed like sparkle cola, and my tongue tingled… but it was just that.

Dick-magnet finally looked impressed, Crystal looked concerned watching the drink slowly go down, and Moko looked like he was about to explode before he ordered one for himself too- but the barkeep already had one ready for him before he even asked.

“I’m not seeing what the big deal is… I can barely taste anything.” I sucked on the straw harder. “It’s like… Like I’m tasting the ghosts of fruits past. It's fizzy but super dull…” yet I couldn't stop drinking, it was just ‘good enough’ that you kept drinking without even thinking about it.

Moko downed his in one go and cheered before running off to the dance floor. “What's with him?” I asked having to get louder as the music did too, and the lights brighter. When did they add lasers?

“Hmm?” Crystal looked. “Oh like, he likes to time the hit with whatever base drop. It also means like, he’s gonna make ministry mares roll over in their graves as he fucks the glitter out of me. Cause, ya know, Zony’s and stuff. I mean it’s fun and all but getting the glitter out of the sheets and visiting the chiropractor is such a pain like, seriously.”

“Tell me about it.” Strawberry McDick-magnet added rolling her eyes. “Last time he-” well that's enough of me caring what she had to say on the matter.

“You have no idea how many questions you’re raising for me right now.” I said still drinking. “Like, What do you know about the saints anyways? What do you mean hit? And who’s gonna drop a bass guitar? I haven't seen a single instrument…here… Hoooooooo shit.” It felt like a wave of lucid balefire was coming right at me like in that ment-al trip I had, and all I could do was sit there and watch its approach. My hooves were tingling and my blood vibrated to the music. Those are good signs, right?

Crystal noticed immediately. “Whoops, there she goes. If these are the last words you hear, just remember to have fuuun!” she called with hooves up to her mouth like she was yelling for me across the room, yet she was right infront of me. I think…. She planted a kiss on my cheek though and trotted right past me. “Don't die!~” she cheered with a hoof pump in the air before slipping into the rave crowd with Dick-magnet.

“She seems nice…” I mumbled to myself, trying to remember when I stood up from the bar…or if I ever sat down. Little fireworks shot off from the kissed cheek and exploded into colorful little puffs.

This dear readers, is when things got weird. And by weird I mean my cartoonish personification of Brain slumped over the bar with a glass in one hand and a suitcase in the other. “Brain… what are you doing here?” It’s a legitimate question!

“I’m… checking out.” He gurgled into the counter before rolling off the seat, falling to the floor with a squish. His black line noodle limbs sprawled out and he (somehow) snored forming a snot bubble.

I being the courteous mare that I am, put some napkins over him like a blanket before turning to the dancefloor flashing all the brighter. “Rest well my degenerate grey-matter, for tonight Sketchy finally gets to let it all out! Wooo!!!” I cheered prancing my way into the ground. Each bounce felt far higher than it should have but I didn't care! The sensory overload was amazing!!

“WEEEE!!!” is an accurate summation of what I remembered happening that night. After tucking brain in, all memory of what occurred devolves into a soup of neon, noise, and flickers of how good it felt intermittent with islands of memory. It took many hours to arrange these memories into chronological order so I hope you’re happy dear reader.

Amidst the sea of dancing ponies was me, a table, and ponies chanting ‘Huff!! Huff! Huff!!”. I don't know when I learned how to operate dash inhalers, but it must have been during the sweeper-fueled blackout cause I was taking hits from every inhaler they passed me. Grab, hiss, toss, grab, hiss, toss. I’d never felt more awake than I did with red mist spilling from my mouth as I cheered. “Wooo!!!” I remember feeling like my blood was tingling, and that I had a sudden urge to run a marathon. Instead, I opted for the next best thing, attempting to fly! I did not succeed, but I did learn the club has a carpet under all those raving ponies. That memory ends with me looking up at the stage where the strippers were doing their routines, and suddenly getting an idea… Ohh this is a perfect spot for a wobbly scene transition! OoOoOoOoo~!

While I do hope this archive gets popular one day, to those whom do read it, don't tell PJ, Tulip, Bronze, Lucy... infact don't tell anypony I know about the following unless they found out on their own. Now where was I?... ahem... Page flip… Crystal’s tongue tastes like candy. There, I said it! Glitter-mare must have been a dentist in a past life with how fast she found my tonsils. What started as a cracked-out me joining her on stage ended with me pinned between her and the pole… much to the cheers of the crowd. Theeeen it was me pinning her to the pole, much to the louder cheers of the crowd. Perverts… we were having a very hot and blueberry-glitter-flavored moment here. A moment that would make sober me squee just thinking about it.

High above I swear I could have seen the silhouette of a pony flanked by two alicorns behind a large window overlooking the club. But that just goes to show you how cooked I was. I’m sure there’s some kind of vague and esoteric meaning behind that one pony growing a pair of hole-riddled wings that shrank to nothing while the outline of their mane grew before they walked off with the alicorn shadows.

Remember those stripper poles? Now I wish for you to imagine what it looks like for a skrunkly-ass nerd-mare like me to use one. Now imagine said mare was high/drunk off her ass, tasting sounds, and smelling colors. Now imagine she took the glitter mare she’d just been making out with and threw her into the crowd to be body-surfed away by ravers. Got it? Good. Cause that's basically what happened. I had far more energy than intelligence at that point, so drunk-ass sketchy tried out her new twirling routine. “Weee!!”

In hindsight, Sober me had no idea what I was doing and I cringe to this day, but wasted me figured, just do what you imagined the strippers doing. And it worked judging by how ponies kept handing me drinks and inhalers. Who knew drunk me was this charismatic? Things got a little wobbly when I was handed a pair of inhalers that looked a lil’ different. I contributed to my compost pile of good decisions that night, by not questioning it. Inhalers in each hoof, sliding onto my hind knees, huffing both and twitching on the dance floor till I blew a big crimson heart in the air. The psychotic levels of energy hit hard enough that I'd have started bashing my head into the floor if not for a new arrival.

Strutting in to the beat like she owned the place, came a stunning unimare. Her figure: flawless, Her mane: A vibrant orange that bounced with each step, her coat: a perfect pale green in every way. I wasn’t rubbernecking or anything… I was just watching her approach the pole opposite me with that smile.. It was slow motion like with PJ but narry a word was exchanged. All she did was make a little nod towards the pole after she got her hooves around it, I’d been challenged! And my drunk unicorn ego demanded satisfaction!

Whether I got the satisfaction of momentarily being the best pole dancer in the land I may never know. The memory warbled out ~oOoOoOo~ right about then but I did make it back to the bar!

“...- so anyways we can head back to my room if you want doll. It’s got two poles you can twirl on, though mine is significantly thicker~” said a leather-jacketed stallion sitting in the barstool next to mine. He had a brown coat… at least I think he was brown, the edges of my vision were starting to get brown too. And his jacket was covered in faces…not the weirdest thing I'd seen tonight.

“Y-yeah, that sounds like fun~.. I’ve never…never had…” I swayed, or at least my vision did. “Hey!...are you hitting on me?” I blinked asynchronously, Sketchy energy levels falling.

“Whaaat? Noooo~” he maintained that same punchable smirk as he leaned on the bar. “I’m a talent agent, doll. You were just so great up on stage I figured you might be up for a more private audition.”

“Y-Yeah…let me just think about-” I grabbed the nearest bottle and smashed it over his head, knocking him to the ground. “Fuck you!” I stumbled out of my seat while he got back up, blood pouring down his face.

“Aghh! You crazy bitch!” he yelled, backing up and holding his face trying to pry some shards out.. “I’ll have you fucking skinned!”

I wasn’t done though. “Why thank you! I worked very hard for that title!” Bottle number 2, electric boogaloo! The smashening! The rest of the ravers gasped, screamed, or cheered for more as I smashed bottles two and three over the exact same spot as I kept walking towards him. “Try fucking with a stable-mare again and I’ll peel your dick like a banana!”

I'd been reaching for bottle number four when a number of suited guards came charging from every direction. “Oh fuck yeah! Seven on one! Legs go! I can take on the world-”

-THUNK-

Ahh shit, blackness again…

-Level up!!!-
Perk unlocked: Lead Belly.

-Take less radiation from what you eat and drink.

Chapter 18: Overhang

FOE: Lunar Archives.
CH 18: Overhang
By: Lakeel

“You’re insane if you think I’m entertaining you after all that..” huffed a familiar voice in the darkness. Luna?

It was like floating in a world made of darkness.. and soup. A viscous void where I could breathe just fine yet swim through the air, I could even do a figure 8. The only sensations were me being gently nudged around and eventually lying on something.

“You’ve really done it this time haven't thou provider?” Asked a familiar roachy voice.

I turned, and there he was in all his glowy green glory…and a little hooded robe? “Brad!” I cheered but felt a throb in my head. “Owwww…why does my head hurt?”

The noble radroach bowed and genuflected with his forelimbs. “Tis I dear provider~ Here in your time of need once more. And to answer your question, did thou match thine drinks 1 to 1 with water?”

“Uhhh….water?”

“I’ll taketh that as a No…” He chittered a sigh, gently rubbing his antennas the same way I'd rub my temples. “Excess is thine fastest route to enlightenment, And thou hath entered unto a demon’s den, fed upon its venom, and survived. Another piece of the prophecy fulfilled…though I hath not expected to see it resolved in such a way. Impressive none the less.”

I was still trying to remember if I drank anything else. “Wait wait…the bartender did pour water from the paint can into the drink. Does that count?”

Brad blinked…somehow. “Provider…That was paint thinner.”

“Oh… Oh shit…”

“Consider thyself enlightened.” he nodded sagely

“Wow, that was fast.” I learned a thing!

“Told you so. But for now, another thread of destiny awaits thee. A great power and inheritor of guilt shall raise the Angel from the edge of heaven. So say the roach sages of yester-yore.” When Brad acquired a set of roach robes I didn't know, but his esoteric little gestures really drove the sage vibe home.

“Waaait…Hey Brad, are you still alive?” I had to ask, the sheer amount of times he’s come up since he got splattered had to be abnormal.

Brad pulled his little hood back and folded his frontmost legs into his tiny brown sleeves. “I answer your question with another question. How hard is it to truly slay a radroach? Now awake, help hath arrived.”

“Hey wait! I have more-”

My eyes opened to the blurry view of blue skies wedged between fuzzy brick walls. Where were my glasses? I heard a low chitter and the crinkling of plastic bags before said glasses landed right on of snoot, “Ack!” I held my snoot and heard a few more things land around me. Straightening my glasses I sat up- and my stomach went down, backward, and inside out! “BWEEEEGH!!” I latched onto the metal ledge next to me and spewed the rainbow over it. Rainbows taste bad.

My career as a fountain aside, I fell back off the ledge and my head throbbed. “Fuuuuuck mee…” I groaned holding my head and curing up on…on… I opened my eyes and blinked a few times seeing..trash bags?

I had the MOST intense night of my life..and woke up in a dumpster. To make it worse, my head was killing me, my gut was churning, I felt like I’d slept both 10 hours and 10 minutes simultaneously, and the smell of garbage wasn’t heping. On the bright side, I was surrounded by all my stuff. My guns, my saddle bags, my candelabra, everything just scattered haphazardly around me. It's hard to believe they didn’t keep my shit, I’d have left me out here for dead but here it all is. The sky looks so pretty but… I think I’ll just roll back over and use this pizza box as a blanket-

“A-Are you okay miss?”

My eyes shot back open and- “Ahh!!!” I flailed totally not startled by the sudden appearance of a pale blue unicorn, with his big blue hat, golden eyes, and…I paused my ‘graceful’ flailing to ‘certainly not’ stare up at the horn holding up the front of his hat. “Holy shit…” I meeped, and I inform you now dear reader, I will NEVER admit that his horn was 2-3 times larger than mine! Nor that it was so long it came to a needle-like point and he was using it to hold up the brim of his massive blue hat like a support beam. For I am a unicorn and at any given moment my horn is the largest in all Equestria and nopony can say otherwise. Except maybe the goddesses… but they’re huge, so ratio-wise I still win. Not that I care about such things…

“What? Is something behind me?” he looked back up the ally walls where some feathered tumors were perched. “Yeah, the balefire radiation sure wasn't kind to the corvids was it? Master always questioned where they got food with all the insects now being so huge.”

Now that there was no chance of me going back to sleep on my new trash bed I sat up and got a better look at things. Yep, I was in an alleyway dumpster, but still on Club Street judging by the traffic beyond the alley. As for my good su-mare-itan (Horse puns!), he looked like he fell out of a different genre. Cloak? check. Big pointy blue hat? Check. Esoteric-looking book on his side? Check. And just like that fine-ass cowpony Lasso-Lean,...his cutiemark was identical to his hat. My well-being had been checked upon…by a BUCKING WIZARD!! Owwww my heaaaad!

“Ohhhh you look sick. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked looking back over the edge of the dumpster while I was holding my throbbing head.

“No, I’m not okay. My head is pounding like Celestia's favorite royal guard, my gut keeps turning like something is twisting inside me, and I think I just vacated everything I ate in the past two days.”

“Yeah this is a pretty big puddle… which is super gross I might add.” he scooched away from it. “So biology was never my area of expertise but erm.. My best guess is dysentery, food poisoning, or….” he hovered over his book wrapping it in a feint golden glow and flipping near the back. “Page 372...” he mumbled flipping a few pages back. “Blood ghosts…orrr…you’re dehydrated!”

I do not have ghosts in my blood and goddesses help me I will not be doing more drugs about it! “The last one! Definitely..hurk…the last one.” I dry heaved remembering Brad's words about matching my drinks with water.

“Oh that one easy just umm…” he started flipping back pages. “Page 258…” and with a brief flash he placed a small glass of water on the edge of the dumpster. “I uhh.. Hope that helps.”

The glass was yoinked away from him as fast as the laws of physics would allow. Drinking it all in one go before flopping back down in the trash. One hoof ever so weakly putting the glass back up on the ledge. “Thank you…” I groaned into a trashbag. “Do you have any more?”

“Not really..” he scratched one foreleg with another. “I can only do stuff like that so many times a day…In hindsight I probably should have used one of the many bottles around here instead of blowing so much magic on conjuring a glass….wait no, that would be super unsanitary.” he glanced around. “Does nopony clean around here?”

While he slipped into a tangent about the cleanliness standards of the wasteland I reached the ‘fuck it’ level of waking up in the morning. I felt a tiny bit better… not that all my joints didn’t pop when I sat up. Much groan, very getting my crap together.

While this mystery stallion rambled and looked all around the alleyway I got a better look at him. He looked.. My age?...and…healthy? By wasteland standards at least, he looked about as well off as Moonstone in terms of cleanliness, which is a lot considering most wastelanders don't have water to drink much less bathe in. “Who are you?..and why do you look like a wizard?”

He looked back towards me. “Oh right, introductions. I’m Hatrick.”

“Of course you are…” Good goddesses this pun had layers.

“Aaaand I look like a wizard because..I am?” He didn’t sound too confident about that statement. “Well technically I’m an apprentice but Master Calvin isn't really around anymore to be my teacher so I guess…I’m technically the master now?”

Saddlebags: equipt. “‘Technically’ is the best kind of ‘ly’” I listened stuffing my crap back into my bags. “So where’s this grand wizard guy now? Off making a killing summoning water for ponies or is he doing esoteric hermit stuff hidden somewhere?”

Hatrick, and his hat by extension, drooped a little as it seemed I struck a sad nerve. “He’s… gone.”

I’d feel guilty about bringing it up, but there was a much worse pain taking up all my feel receptors. “You have my- Hup!” I strained pushing myself up and over the edge of the dumpster and crashing to the concrete below. “Sympathies…” I groaned having formed a new pile of crumpled mare.

“Thanks..” he muttered scratching a foreleg and looking down at the ground. “Is your spine supposed to make that sound?”

“There she is!!” Called a familiar stallion from down the alley. Where did I know him from- ah shit, here we go again. “Knew I’d find you soon enough!” yelled a certain nameless brown stallion with bandages all over the side of his face and a leather jacket…made of other pony’s faces.

I am too hungover right now to even begin to process the fresh horror of what the jacket entailed- ahh fuck there’s more of them. Armed with pipes, knives, and rusty pistols he was flanked by a gaggle of similarly face-wearing goons. “Who the fuck…” I heaved a bit as I struggled to stand up with a quickly rectified stumble. “Whew..almost threw up there… who are you?” I’m going to be asking that question a lot today, aren't I?

“Who the fuck am I- You fucked up my face!!” he grimaced as glaring seemed to cause his very bandaged face much pain. Now that I looked at him he did have a loose resemblance to the wobbly shape in my memory I smashed some bottles on. “We could have had so much fun, but now, I'm gonna have fun turning you into a new towel!”

“I'm surprised you… hurk..” almost, almost spilled my guts again but I held firm. “Know what a towel is you…. Two-faced… wait a second.” I started counting the number of faces “three… six… eleven…ughh.” I groaned as my creative insults failed me. “Fuck you for making me think this hard in the morning you dingle mc-balldragger.” 4/10 insult, might use it again when my head stops hurting.

“D-Do you always insult ponies threatening to kill you?” Hatrick meeped looking nervously between me and the approaching goons.

“Yep!” I sighed fumbling around in my saddlebag. “It worked out great for me so far. Now what do I wanna kill these guys with- owww…” my head throbbed in both rejection to levitating my flintlock. It was hard to focus, and the orange magic that normally enveloped my TKd weapons flickered, but at least I could hold it up.

Hatrick seemed to have other ideas levitating out his own little revolver. A revolver that inspired as much confidence as he did. “S-Stay back, I know how to use this.” Which was not much. The ‘gun’ looked like somepony taped a revolver cylinder to a rusty tube from a water heater, wrapped it in chicken wire, and called it a gun.

The face-wearing goons just chuckled and approached all the same. “I think I'll make him into a purse, make pale blue my thing this year~”. One of them commented as they sized up my newfound wizard. A disgusting face leather wearing raider as he might be… the stallion did have some fashion sense, the light blue would match his eyes- WHAT AM I THINKING?! Light blue is a spring color. He needs darker blue for winter- Bad brain! Bad!! Be horrified! Not fashion-conscious!

Click!...clickclick!

Hatrick looked down at the gun. “Ohh cmoooon!” he whined squeezing the trigger in his magic over and over again making rust particles fall from the weapon's rudimentary mechanism.

“My turn!” I said before learning my accuracy was about as fucked as I dream of being one day. If my goal had been to mildly deafen everypony in the alleyway and burn a smoldering hole in the pavement…I succeeded. Buuut the gangoons were still unscathed. “Damn it… now were actually in danger.”

“You mean we weren't in danger before?!” Hatrick asked manually fiddling with the makeshift gun before tossing it aside and whipping out his book. Hey that’s my move… “Spells spells spells.” he paniced skimming chunks of the book at a time.

The original face bandit just slumped a little. “Okay this is just sad.. I looked around all morning for you and watching this little shitshow is really killing my mood to cut your face off.” He groaned glaring down the alley at us. “You know how hard that is? To ruin my urge to collect face skin like momma used to make?” He asked rhetorically as her gestured all over to his jacket made of faces. “Pretty hard! What happened to the mare that fucked up my face last night? I came here to skin her, not… this!” He said gesturing to the two of us with his rusty knife.

Hatrick seemed to reach the right page and his horn glowed. “Foudre!” he pronounced as his horn glowed. Within a moment a black cloud had whirled into existence just a few feet above the bandits.

The leader looked up at it. “The hell is this? First you two can barely handle guns, and now what… You’re gonna make it rain on me?”

The air cracked and a ‘BOOM!’ Broke as the trio was very suddenly struck by lightning. In a flash and a bang two of them collapsed to the ground sizzling and the third guy just… exploded. I mean he was still around, just.. Over there, and over there, and a little up there…

“Oh…oh my…” Hatrick squirmed as a few chunks of simmer core landed around his hooves, and he promptly hid behind his ‘spellbook’as gore rained around us. “I.. may have overdone it a little.”

My eye twitched as a small amount of burnt red splattered my cheek and slowly ran down as I stood there. I am way too hungover for this… “He’s a goddess damn wizard..” I mumbled to myself not moving. I’ve never even seen that degree of magic before! Most of the unicorns I’ve ever met only really used it for telekinesis or a few tricks they had up their sleeves. I think the most advanced thing I’d ever seen was a maintenance guy reassembling a terminal that fell off a table. But this! This was… “We should leave.” my barely functional brain halted.

“Wait what?” Hatrick asked double-taking between the sizzling ponies and me. “But they attacked us, wouldn't we wait around for the local guards to take our testimony?”

“What the fu- No! That’s Exactly why we gotta leave, right now, and pretend like this never happen.”

“But-”

“-ts Are thicc and wonderful. However, I do not know if you've noticed but this town doesn't have guards, It had thugs. We don't know how connected these guys were but they wore jackets literally made of pony faces…in public!! So let's not be here to find out if you just thunderstruck somepony important!”

He rose a timid hoof. “It's actually a lightning strike…not a thunder strike. Ya know cause one is sound and the other is…” he corrected but slowly trailed off as I gave him the look. You know the look reader, you’re imagining it right now, and you can't unsee it. “I’ll be quiet now…” he shrank.

I held the bridge of my muzzle. “Good goddess is this how I was when I first got out here?” I groaned to myself, making a note to edit all previous chapters of my archive to make me sound more competent. In the meantime, I looked back up at him “Okay, by the powers of fate, destiny, and questionable life choices you are now stuck with me.”

“Excuse me?..”

“I’m getting you out of here. Namely cause you just saved me from getting peeled like an apple, but because I am in the middle of learning how hangovers feel right now and I…” I held my head a bit longer as it throbbed. “Will probably need help getting home until it goes away.”

“Oh umm…okay, I can help you get back. It would be the polite thing to do after…finding you in a dumpster. But I can only do stuff like that lightning spell a few times a day…and I don't really know how to use ‘this’ too well.” He added holding the pipe-revolver in his golden aura.

I face-hooved before looking back very nonplused. “Just give me the gun before you hurt yourself okay?”

“That's probably for the best.” He agreed reluctantly before fate was sealed yet again. He hovered the wasteland’s shittiest revolver over and let go. It was at this moment, that I realized ‘oh wait, Im supposed to catch that’.

It hit the pavement with a tink-PANG!! Misfiring instantly. It was followed by a sudden, hot, sharp, and ‘too familiar!’ pain in my rear.

“FUCK!!” echoed out of the alleyway, making many a nearby street-goer flinch.

—

“I said I was sorry…” Hatrick pleaded from behind me as we walked the streets of Applewood. Turns out leaving Club-street was far easier than getting in, you just go right through the front door and nobody blinks.

“And I said I wasn't mad..” I grumbled leading him back to the neighborhood. Trying my damndest not to think about the hoof-sized bandaid on my flank.

That apparently wasn't a good enough answer for him “But you sound like you’re mad..”

“Well, I’m not. I’m aware it was an accident, and I was in no condition to catch the gun being that hung over.” I grumbled louder, head low and glaring ahead.

“But…”

“Upupupupup!” I spun around silencing him with a hoof on his snoot. “I’m not mad. But so help me Luna’s fine ass I’m going to be mad if you keep asking.”

“B-But…”

“Ehh!”

“Oh…”

“Much better.” I squinted before turning back around, only to look back again, not wanting to be mean to the guy. “I know I sound super cranky right now, but I promise you I’m much more chill when my head isn't throbbing.” Ughh…even the sunlight made my eyes hurt.

“If you say so…” I couldn’t see them but I could tell his eyes looking around awkwardly, the kind of silence that meant he could only be looking for another conversation topic. “So…” Called it! “This place we're going is called the Neighborhood?”

“Yep…”

“Was the pun intentional or is it some kind of… secret society/cult thing?”

“No..” I sighed sinking lower. “It’s more like… I don't know, it’s just what we started calling the place. It's literally a bunch of suburb houses that are still livable with plenty of drinkable water. The name formed without us even trying.”

“Huh…” Hatrick scratched his chin pensively. “That does sound like how master said things usually get named… whatever feels natural at the time. But if so many streets are named ‘peach tree’ where are all the peach trees?”

“I don’t know, That’s-... a really good question actually.” Now I had to stop and think about it.

And as if on cue to ruin my train of thought was the body of a desiccated pegasi. Specifically, a slavering one missing a wing and most of its face, shambling its way out of a ruined storefront.

Great, there's a ghoul, and while normally I’d find the concept of a feral pega-ghoul both fascinating and scary, my morning has been really shit. I didn't need him/her/it making said morning shit…er… …I wasn’t in the mood for linguistics either.

“Hey!” I pointed at the ghoul. “Fuck off! Before I rip that other wing off and beat you back to death with it! I am not in the mood for you right now!” I am not in the mood!!

What remained of the ghoul's face shifted, eye(s) widening as it stopped in place. Pausing before starting to ‘poorly’ shuffle its way back into the ruin it limped out of. [Success!]

I squinted watching the ghoul shuffle away. “Yeah, that's what I thought.. Bitch.”

“You are a very mean mare…” Hatrick mumbled in the background.

I looked back again, squinting! “What was that?”

He froze. “Nothing! Nothing at all just… I meant ‘mean’ as in math, not.. A very math mare.” he said tapping his forehoves together with a ‘please don’t be mad’ sheepish smile.

Let it be known throughout all Equestria that hungover me will shank a mare! Stallions too! Cause hung-over Sketchy is here to dish out equal fucks and equal bucks, and I’m aaaaaalll out of fucks!... I left them in the stream back home.

—

Hours later with the neighborhood on the horizon, the throbbing was finally starting to fade. I found relief in a jug of ever-milk and a box of Sugar-Apple-Bombs in a shopping cart outside a place called ‘Super-duper-’ something, the rest of the letters had fallen off.

“I don’t think that’s safe to drink..” Hatrick commented still following behind me as I had regained enough use of my TK to hold the jug aloft and drink away.

I pulled the jug away with a relieved pant. “Ahh.. is too safe to drink. Sure it’s room temperature, but it’s ever-milk.” I pointed at the faded label showing a pair of twin blonde-coated ponies holding canes. “So good even your grandkids can drink it” I quoted. “We've been drinking this stuff in the stable for centuries. It never expires.”

Hatrick made a concerned groan. “That can’t be healthy… It sounds like it’s more preservatives than food.”

“Oh I feel pretty preserved alright~” I added telekinetically scooping hoof-fuls of cereal as we walked.

“And your wrist thingy is ticking so much because?...”

I blinked, pausing in my tracks to look down at my pipbuck finally noticing the ticking. “Huh..how long have I been tuning that out?”

“It’s been rattling ever since you started eating…” he answered concernedly.

“Huh… I’m sure it's fine.” I said stuffing the cereal box back into my bag and resumed drinking the milk. I'd need to shake some rad-away out of Lucy at some point, preferably after she's recovered. This rad meter goes all the way up to 1000 and I intend to use it all if I have to.

Hatrick on the other hoof simply shivered at the notion. His loss, this pre-war food stuff is amazing, it's just like what we had back at the stable… just a little too warm for my liking.

Also not to my liking was my inability to see the streets of the neighborhood through the crowd of ponies that now resided on it! Dozens of disheveled ponies loitering around sitting under small tents and many of them nomming on PB&J sandwiched just like the pegas did just yesterday. “Oh goddesses dammit I was gone for one day! What happened this time?!” I asked nopony in particular pointing a hoof at the crowd.

The answer I got wasn't words, but instead those raggedy foals from before running across the street chasing another radroach with their spears.

“So this is the neighborhood?” Hatrick asked looking around at the place. “Well it seems like everypony has water at least.” he wasn't wrong, many of the ponies also had various containers filled with water collected around them.

Yeah, this wasn't right, what I could remember of yesterday I only recalled inviting five or six homeless ponies here. Was there anypony I recognized in view? As far as I could see there was- oh hey the Enclave!

I made my way around the brand-new homeless camp and Hatrick followed along until the security parameter of enclave pegas came into view. The most well-guarded sandwich-making table in the wasteland at its center where Button’s mom chugged along. Do ghouls ever get tired? “Is anyone going to explain to me what’s going on?” I called out as I approached.

Many of them perked up and looked over to me before Cream-heart spoke up. “Oh, you’re back. We have a bit of a crisis here dear, if you aren't busy could you check in with your friends? I’m pretty sure they need help sorting this mess out.”

“Where are- oh.” I looked ever so slightly to the right to spot Moonstone, Lucy, Button-Mash, and Candy-cloud gathered around a table under Cream-Heart's former car-port awning. “That was easy…” I glanced back to Hatrick. “You ready to meet the team?”

He paused. “Sure?” he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean I was just supposed to get you home right? It’s a nice place but..” he glanced around for a moment. “Are you sure it’s not a cult?”

“No, it's not a cult! What is with you and cults? I get you-” I pointed a hoof at him “all the way here-” hoof back at the house. “Cause I needed an escort. But now that I’m here, I gotta introduce YOU-” back at him again. “To the rest of the team.” two hooves back at my friends. “Cause you!-” Hatrick again. “Shot me in the ass!”

“You said you weren’t mad about that!” he cowered behind his hooves defensively as I leaned in.

“I’M NOT MAD!-” I said VERY calmly… for a psychotic murder-mare.

“Sketchy?” Lucy called from over by the table. “You’re finally back from visiting the Actors? Took you long enough.” Her voice said huffy but her eyes said worried. Thus I am conflicted about what she actually felt upon seeing me.

Moonstone came right over quickly giving me a once-over. “What happened to you? Why were you gone so long? Why do you look like shit?” He asked sounding more concerned for my wellbeing than most ponies I knew…and to be fair he was a bit justified after the day I had yesterday.

“Cause I found her in a dumpster.” Hatrick pointed out from behind me.

“Hatrick!” I turned to look back at him. How dare he throw me under the minecart!

Moonstone understandably got all the more concerned. “Why were you in a dumpster and-...” he paused to look up at the sheepishly smiling Hatrick I was glaring at. “Is that a wizard?”

“See!? I knew I wasn’t crazy! My day has been bucking weird okay?! Having a wizard appear and escort me back home is just the sprinkles of the 7-layer weird cake okay?!” that was way more impassioned than I thought I'd sound like. It left me panting, having let a fair bit of frustration slip out with it. And I felt tired all of a sudden.

“What are you caveponies yelling about over here?” Lucy asked dragging herself along via the little wheely-cart I made for her after she got shot. “Please tell me our little psychopath is in good health and-” Lucy paused too to look back at Hatrick. “Is that a wizard?”

I facehooved while Hatrick did a little wave in the background. “Yes, he’s a wizard… It’s a long story and I really do not want to go into detail about it-”

Aaaand now Button-Mash joined the party, still in his blue bathrobe and coffee mug combo. “Oh hey, she’s alive.” he took a long sip of his 200-year-old bean juice before looking over at Hatrick. “Is that a fucking wizard?”

“H-hi… I’m more of an apprentice than erm.. What you said.” Hatrick smiled sheepishly, tapping his forehooves together.

Sweet Celestia flaming tits the wizard was shy AND afraid of swearing?

Nonplussed Sketchy was nonplussed. “I’m done..” I let gravity do the rest, effortlessly flopping onto my side to check how comfortable Button-Mash’s dead lawn was. “Yeah this feels right…”

“Is…is she okay?” Hatrick asked concernedly, stepping closer to look over me with the rest of the team. “I gave her a glass of water and she seemed to be fine…”

Moonstone gave me a few gentle nudges, to which I groaned in defeat. “She’s fine. Just being dramatic again..” Moonstone sighed. “And I get the feeling she’s about to turn this into a long, drawn out, and painful thing.. Instead of just telling us what happened.”

I sat back up! “Am not!”

“Are too.” He added.

“Am not!” I repeated louder and more defensively.

Moonstone pursed his lip “Mmm hmm..You’re doing it right now.”

“Damn it!” I huffed stamping a forehoof on the dead grass. “Whatever!” I exclaimed throwing my forehooves in the air. “Yes, I went to the Actors, and I accidentally killed some of his props… who were actually raiders!” I clarified. “Accidently gave his studio a new sunroof aaaand struck a deal for the rest of the pega’s freedoms.”

Lucy took an interest right away. “You talked him into freeing the soldiers he bought? How much did he want? Are they all alive? How many were there?”

“Im getting to that…” I sucked in some more air. “He agreed to free the pega’s IF he gets some ‘volunteers’ to star in his movies. He won’t kill them like his other props, and he’ll pay them, but he won’t agree to anything until I can prove all the pegasi here are on board with the idea.”

“That's… odd.” Lucy thought aloud. “He wants to pay the ponies that just two days ago he was trying to enslave?”

“Makes sense to me.” Button-mash shrugged taking another less than enthused sip, like just one more will make the caffeine kick in, but it never does. “Supply and demand. From what the locals have been saying ‘bout him he needs pegasi. And the hotel Coltifornia was his best supplier. But since you burned it down and ‘liberated’ all the ‘merchandise’, you are now the best turkey supplier in Applewood.” It sounded like he was almost complimenting my situation, finishing his mug before stuffing it in his robe pocket.

“We aren’t merchandise! Treating ponies like meat is half the reason everypony back home thinks surfacers are savages.” Lucy huffed folding her forehooves and glaring at the ghoul.

Buttons rolled his eyes dismissively. “You ‘were’ merchandise, whether you like it or not. That's how slavery has always worked. But, thanks to Sketchy you no longer are.” He swirled his mug a bit. “And this warlord seems to have convinced you that he held the upper hand in that negotiation.”

“He was pointing a lot of guns at me at the time…” I added tapping a hoof to my chin recalling having my body weight in lead projectiles pointed at me the whole time.

Buttons continued. “Yeah, both of you had literal and metaphorical guns to each other's heads. He has the missing pega’s hostage, and you have the rest of the pegasi he needs for his precious movies. He couldn't kill you 'cause then he wouldn't get his props, so him holding you at gunpoint doesn't mean anything.”

“So this is a hostage situation?...” I asked tilting my head a bit.

“Yep~ Happened all the time before the war. One gang would capture an enemy gang member, then whoops somepony’s foal got nabbed from the school parking lot. Usually followed by a ransom or a shoot-out. Supply and demand at its finest really.” He explained as if dulled to the horror of how it sounded. “Sometimes they’d even make the news if the body count was high enough… or if it was ponies who died instead of zebras.”

Everypony just stared at him in momentary shock.

He blinked looking between us. “What? I wasn’t the one doing it…”

“We know, it's just.. Not what most of us expect to hear about pre-war society.” Moonstone answered looking for a delicate way to say that. “You know, 1000 years of peace, love, and happiness like in the history books?”

“Yeah.” Buttons replied with his eyes falling half-lidded. “That was ‘before’ the war. When I was like.. 8, not 25.”

“So far this all makes sense but… why was darling here in a dumpster again?” Lucy asked recoiling from me and holding her nose. “I’m failing to see the connection.

Let's go ahead and rip off the social bandaid, I figured they would keep asking until I finally caved, so might as well surrender right then and there. “Well…” I scratched the back of my mane. “After striking that deal.. Moko…invited me to go to a club he knew, and I was trying to be amenable so…. That happened.”

Moonstone facehoofed. “What happened to coming right back like you said you would?”

“I did come right back. After I woke up in a dumpster. Going to the club was part of the trip. I mean It’s not like I was trying to be selfish, Moko had already invited me a dozen times and promised to pay for it all. Plus I met a bunch of homeless ponies and offered them a place to… stay…” I slowly looked back over my shoulder to the homeless camp that had formed behind me. “Okay, I only talked to like 6 ponies. This wasn’t me!”

Now it was button-mash holding his temples. “You are so damn naive! Yeah, you helped half a dozen of ‘em but they told all their friends there’s a pony giving free handouts. In my front yard!” he pointed over at the line of ponies at his mom’s sandwich stand. “It’s what they do! Hope is contagious!”

Thinking back, he had a point. That one grandma did say something about opening a can of worms if I started helping ponies like this but helping ponies is a good thigh right?. I’d figured only the ones I talked to would show up if at all. “Wh-what was I supposed to do? Leave ‘em starving on the side of the road?”

“You give ‘em your pocket change and move on! Just like everypony else.”

“But I didn't have any pocket change!”

“Then tell ‘em you’re broke!”

“How am I supposed to tell them I’m broke when I have a pipbuck, a clean coat, and the nicest clothes in the whole damn town?!”

The heads of Moonstone, Lucy, and Hatrick went back and forth as Button-Mash and I argued the finer points of helping the poor. Until Moonstone butted back in. “Wait, you found these guys where?”

I sighed feeling the minecart coming to hit me. “Ughh….Club street.”

“Sketchy!”

“I know!” I retorted. “But that was the club Moko kept inviting me to, and how could I say no?!”

“By saying no?” Hatrick suggested with a sheepish smile in the back, one hoof raised.

I glared back at him again watching Hatrick slowly put the hoof back down. I'd strangle him if he kept throwing me under the minecart like this. But strangling somepony for being socially inept is a bit of an overreaction. Cause that’d mean I’d have been strangled many times by now.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were about you, darling?” Lucy asked siding with Moonstone.. The world really must be ending. “We were this close to sending a search party.” How dare she make dejected mom noises at me!

“But Im fiiiiine.” I added gesturing a hoof around my whole ponyage. “The worst thing that happened was dealing with those face-wearing thugs and the sweeper-”

“You drank a sweeper?!!” Moonstone exploded making me cover my ears.

“Calm down. You’re acting like I was putting a gun to my head to see if was loaded.”

“That's basically what you did! That concoction is lethal! That's why they make you sign a waiver.” he pointed out getting angrier. “In case you survive!”

“Oh…But Moko agreed to cover the cost of the party stopper in case I couldn’t handle it. Even then who cares if I die? I’m dead, I’ll just hang out with the princesses until you guys kick the bucket and join me.” I shrugged not seeing what the big deal was.

I had apparently pissed all over the mood as everypony else’s expressions fell. “Is… Is that how you’d feel if we died?” Lucy asked, sounding a bit too concerned for my liking.

“I mean, yeah? It would suck, and I’d feel bad for a while, but why tear myself apart when I know I’ll see you again later? Like my mom or my grandparents, I never got to meet them but it doesn't bother me cause I’ll see them again later. It’s simple.”

Awkward silence ensued with a few of the gang grimacing. I looked to each of them trying to figure out what was wrong. “What?..am I standing on somepony’s grave?” I looked down and checked under my hoof just in case.

“Nono, were just… A lot of things are finally clicking for us right now.” Lucy assured looking to the others. “And it’s a bit much to process.. this inability to care from you of all mares.” though she had a hard time looking me in the eyes. “Given how many times we’ve seen you freak out over minor moral dilemmas.”

“I’m not one to challenge your beliefs but.. It does explain why you’ve been acting so… so…” Moonstone trailed to I assume think of the right word.

“Pessimistic all the time?” Lucy finished.

“I was going to say reckless.” Moonstone corrected.

Now I’m really confused. “I don’t get it… “

Button-mash decided to step in pushing his way between us. “Alright. I’ve had enough of this shitshow,” he said before downing the remainder of a bottle I hadn’t seen him holding before. Yeeting it into the side of his neighbor's house shattering it. “You’re fucking numb.” he declared getting right up in my face.

I backstepped. “What? Of course I’m numb! Everypony is in this bombed-out hellhole! This.. literal wasteland!” I gestured at all the sickly browns and greys around us. “I’ve killed more ponies in the past week than all the murders, executions, and accidents in my stable combined. Just to survive!”

And he kept approaching matching step for step with a glare. “I’ve been dead for all of two days, and dead inside for even longer. So you’re going to listen to me when I tell you-” His rotting hooves suddenly took me by the collar and pushed me up against his house. “You put a tap on that ‘I wanna die’ shit right now, or so help me you autistic bitch I can and will beat some dopamine into you!”

“Ack~!” Everypony else watched in suprise as he continued to throttle me, my hooves grabbing and kicking at his own. “I didn’t say-, I wanted to-.. Choking-”

“Not directly, but you do.” He asserted pulling on my collar just to shove me back into the wall. Loose siding from the wall falling off from the impact. “I’m numb, nobody cares if I die, I’m a mass murderer, I’ll see everypony again so who cares.” he parroted mockingly as he held me there. “Are you fucking stupid? Nopony wants to hear that!”

“I don't-..sound like-.. that.” I choked, squirming all the harder, kicking fruitlessly at the air.

“I think she gets it Button-mash, put her down.” Moonstone stepped in only to halt at the ghoul's stern glare.

“No she fucking doesn't.” He turned back to me. “Nobody EVER gets it that fucking fast! I’ve seen it too many times.” With a grunt and a moment of unholy strength, he threw me, sending me sliding across the dead grass.

I went from being choked to having the wind knocked out of me, skewing my glasses, and spilling the contents of my bags. I coughed, gasped, and wheezed, while he stomped on over. “Ack- ha… ah- Huuugh!” I sucked air trying to get my lungs to listen.

“You are the pinnacle of Sweetie-belle’s experiment. My Sweetie-Belle! But you sound like you’ve had a hoof in the grave ever since you left her stable.” He glared down at me, putting his forehoof to my chest to keep me pinned. “No.. I can see it in your ‘princess’ damned eyes. This isn’t new. You’ve had a hoof in the grave long before ever stepping out of that massive ass door. You’re just waiting to die.”

“Button Mash! Get off her this instant! She can’t breathe!” Cream-Heart yelled, his mom coming to save the day.

“Not now Mom!”

“I said now, Mister!”

“Will you SHUT, THE FUCK, UP!! I’m nipping this in the bud right now!” He bit back, making his mom skid to a stop about as shocked as everpony else watching the altercation. “Even if she doesn’t want me to.” he growled down at me. “Half.”

“Wh-what?” I coughed.

“That’s how many ‘friends’ I’ve seen ‘complete’ what you’re going through right now. The Apathy, the self-hatred, the numbness, and valuing random keepsakes-” He picked up B-Rad for emphasis, his little squeak the ghost of comfort I needed right now. “More than the actual ponies they represent.”

My chest was hurting “Don’t.. t-touch… Brad..” I choked out, half of reality was a blur with my glasses off kilter but I reached a shaking hoof out for the stuffed rad-roach.

Buttons simply stood there with him. “Why shouldn’t I? You’ll be dead soon, and then you won’t care. A week, possibly a month, you might even make it several years. But at this rate, if the raiders, monsters, and drugs don't get you, then YOU certainly will.” He simply tossed B-Rad aside, squeaking on impact with the ground, my hoof reached out for him. “Are you so desperate to meet your bullshit gods that you don't value living?”

“N-No!” I struggled, still trying to lift his hoof off me and reach B-Rad.

“Is it cause you’re afraid it will hurt? Cause my friends found a lot of creative ways around that problem.”

“N-No…” I couldn’t get him off, where were the tiny princesses with the solution when I needed them? Where was Brad?..

“Is it cause you feel too guilty? That everyone else will feel bad if you up and died? Cause from what you said so far they shouldn’t worry about it!”

“No..” I coughed. Celestia.. Luna… why?

“Or…” his tone got low and he leaned in. “Have you sunk so far into despair you’re just afraid they won’t let you in? That you can wait it out and hope you die painlessly?”

He finally struck a chord, as I remembered every single intrusive thought, every moment of soul-racking guilt, or more notably the absence of it. The mercenaries, the raiders, and even the Stone brothers.. I never cared that they died, who they were, who cared about them. Each and every time I killed somepony all I ever thought was ‘Did the the pearly gates just slam shut on me’ Am I wrong for doing so? Am I justified? And even those thoughts stopped occurring.

“Ahh, that’s what gets your gears turning. No need to worry about anything in this shitty life if there's a better one waiting for you around the corner is that it?”

My hooves continued half-heartedly claw at the leg holding me in place. “I don’t… I don’t want to die.. but I can’t feel anything either. I should feel bad, I should feel guilt, but I don’t. The Stone brothers deserved it but I should still feel something. Those dealers at Bubble Town were probably given a Salliongrad suicide, and It never crosses my mind. I reduced ten raiders to bloody mulch just down the street from here… cause they were harassing Moonstone…and I felt nothing but exhaustion.”

“You're the one who did that?!” some distant mare yelled from the crowd of onlookers.

“I killed who knows how many mercs, burned down a hotel with who knows how many ponies trapped inside, just to save Lucy…and I almost felt good about it. Then we went back inside, I got Lucy shot, and I ripped the head off the owner with my bare hooves for it, and to get YOUR poster back.” it felt like I needed to throw that back at him, but he was unphased. “And all I felt was tired. I even went to Club Street just so I could experience something new, a change of pace… looking back I know I had fun, but I don't feel it.. Or anything, even when the guards were mowing down the homeless at the gate”

Button-Mash nodded along as I listed my sins. “Okay, And what did you feel before you killed the brothers.”

I pondered back “Afraid? The eldest was going to rape and eat me… and the middle just wanted to kill me. What mare wouldn't feel that way?”

“And the dealers?”

“I… they…” I tried to put a word to it. “Vindictive? They were selling chems to foals like it was candy. You don’t prey on kids.”

“And the raiders?”

That was a less pleasant feeling, and a more haunting one that furrowed my brow. “H-Hatred.”

“And the hotel?”

“Rage…” I could still hear ripping of muscle and snapping of sinew.

“Do you see where I’m going with this yet?” He asked taking his hoof off me, allowing me to roll onto my side and hold the spot.

“Almost… please tell me anyways.” I groaned holding the hoof print on my chest.

He sighed, seeming to have let off enough steam. “It sounds like you were doing all kinds of feeling while those events were happening. But now in hindsight, your world has turned grey and you just can’t give a shit anymore. You know what that means?”

“That I’m a psychopathic murder-mare seeped so deep in the blood of her enemies that the concept of life and consequences has lost all meaning to her?” What?... I was guessing!

“No dumbass! Okay well..maybe a little cause that sounded kinda badass, but no! It means you’re fucking depressed! Wartime stress disorder, ring any bells?”

“But.. the war is over.” I added sitting up.

Buttons was not bemused. “That’s not… ughh! Did Scoots not give you guys dictionaries either?”

“We had to recycle those decades ago…” I pointed out wiping my nose on my sleeve, when had it started running?

“Ohgawdamnit!” he threw his head back in disbelief. “You!” He pointed at the rest of the team making them perk up. “I’m taking your train wreck with glasses over here. This isn’t me asking permission, with is a notice of absence.” he then looked to his mom. “And Mom, do NOT disturb.” With that said he turned and went for the door. “We're going to my room, Now.”

“Ahem!” his mom faked a cough while glaring at her robe-clad son.

“Ughh..” he groaned. “I’m sorry for yelling Mom, I was just trying to keep somepony I know from blowing their brains out.. Again!” he grumbled and made his way inside.

“Well, that’s a start…” Cream-heart muttered tapping a hoof on the grass.

“Your son is mean…” Hatrick muttered in the background once more.

Buttons however heard that, and was intent on proving Hatrick right by yelling from within the house. “Summon a dick and sit on it you half-assed Evoker!”

Hatrick looked down at his book. “But I don’t have the ‘create’ spell yet- HEY!”

“9th level vicious mockery bitch!”

—

Button’s room looked a lot more lived in now as he turned a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and closed it. The bed was still a mess, but a lot of the dust was gone and the scattered papers had been reorganized. The more amazing thing was when he reached over and flicked the light switch, bringing the dangling bulbs to life.

“You have power in here?!” I exclaimed looking around now that I could finally see clearly in here.

“Yeah, we have a generator in the basement. Just had to find a Magical fusion core.” he said walking past me and stepping around his bed. “Your house has power too.”

My ears perked up. “My house?”

“Yeah, Look out the window.” I pointed to the large circular window.

Looking out I could see a lot of the neighborhood and Applewood cityscape this time now that it wasn't raining….or night. To the south I could see a small pillar of smoke from what I assume used to be the Hotel Coltifornia. To the right of that was downtown Applewood, a mountain of twisted metal, green fog, and broken buildings. Even further right was the white rounded roofs of the Actor’s movie studios and further beyond lay the dead tree that was Club-Street’s ‘House of Chrysalis’. And furthest to the right were the remains of the Applewood sign, adorned in the banners of the warlords overlooking the city.

“A little lower…”

“Oh right.” I looked down to see the homeless camp, but also spotted a bright orange cable leaving the base of Button’s house and going over to the one immediately next door. A pile of destroyed furniture and other debris piled out front, but other than that the two-story house was in great condition. “Isn’t that-”

“The Speckledorf’s house. Mom figured that since you needed a place to stay other than my room, cause as great as I am at getting mares in my bed, Like fuck am I sharing it now.”

“You got one mare in your bed… I don’t count.” I squinted at his reflection in the glass.

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, My statistic is better.” he countered while heading over to the massive TV in the back of his room. “Mom also figured the 200 years of renovations she's done on the place far outstrips whatever the Speckledorfs paid for it, so… Think fast!”

I barely had time to turn around and raise my hooves before getting thwapped in the face with a small set of keys. “ACK!” I fell to the ground with the keys, holding my snoot. “Why is it always the face!?”

“I could make jokes but that would be too easy. The house is as good as yours for as long as you want it. Your friends, mainly Moonstone with Lucy ‘supervising’, cleared it out before they did the house across the street from themselves.”

“And what about everypony else?” I asked getting up from the floor still holding my nose.

“That's part of the problem.” he sighed. “A problem we're going to fix at the same time we attempt to fix you,” he added dragging some strange contraption out from a nearby drawer and plugging it into the TV. Three cables, Yellow, red, and white…

“Are you going to explane or are you gonna start choking me again?” I squinted, I'm certainly feeling something right now, but I can't choke out the dead.

“Considering it,” he said before pointing a hoof at a nearby beanbag chair. “Park it.”

I grumbled making my way over and promptly planted my rear in the leftmost beanbag chair. “Eep!” I squeaked regretting my decision immediately as I sank right into it until I was in this odd but surprisingly comfortable position using my limbs to stay ‘afloat’. Never mind… it was kinda nice.

Button’s sat in the other and tossed me a… controller? “The hell is this for?” I asked rotating the controller in my TK.

“This!” He said finally smiling for once as he hit a button on a remote for a grand reveal. The ‘technical difficulties’ screen of a very familiar-looking derpy caravan owner changed over to a black screen with ‘TV-2’ in the top left.

“Uhh….”

“Damn it! Video-2 not TV-2!” he grumbled fiddling with the remote. “Give me a second, it’s been 200 years.” he pressed the button a few more times before the screen and speakers came to life with music and a colorful menu, images of ponies, zebras, and griffons in historical costumes fading in and out of the background. At the top of the menu it read ‘Society-V’ in sparkly gold letters.

“UHHHHHH….” I can only Uhh so loud. “I repeat my previous statement.”

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve got an assload of ponies outside who are suddenly looking to you for food, water, and shelter. And currently, you’re running a 1 mare blood-soaked depression train off a cliff at full speed. As your resident depresso-expresso I’m going to reel you in with what worked best with me. ‘Productive escapism’” he arched his hooves in the air as if they'd make the words magically appear on a rainbow.

“And.. this will make be better?” I asked, brow raised.

“Oh fuck no~” he laughed…a little too hard, rolling on his beanbag chair till he calmed down, “You actually thought this would- hahaaa!!” it wasn't that funny. Even wiping a tear from his eye while I looked at him with all the grump I could muster. “Hardly, have you seen the mental state I’m in? It will however mellow you out and stop you from getting worse. Plus it'll teach you a few skills you're gonna need.”

“Skills I’m gonna need?”

“Well, to put it bluntly, we may have infinite water, but at the rate my mom is making sandwiches for everypony our cellar will be empty in a week.”

“Oh…oh no..”

“And while mom and I won't starve obviously, I'd rather not have my house burned down by an angry mob that thinks we're holding out on them.”

“So why are we playing Society-'V' instead of going scavenging for food?!”

“Cause Society-6 was going to be good but Rarity made devs remove Roam and the other zebra civs making it suck ass! And they changed the frequency of coal spawns!” he seemed far more upset about the latter thing than he should be… “My industrial meta, ruined!”

Non-amused Sketchy was non-amused.

“Aaaand” Buttons continued. “It's a civilization-building game based on actual history. It's loaded with all kinds of information about the technologies and practices pony-kind developed over the centuries to survive. Like crop rotation, hunting, feudalism, the invention of steel, etcetera. You should be able to pull all sorts of useful stuff about how to run a community from history, if it worked before, it probably still works.”

“Okay, that kinda makes sense… just read the history stuff as I go.” I said messing with the controller until I figured out how violently similar it was to my pip-buck. “New game.. Pick a society.. uhhh… ooh fancy helmets! Roam~!” Boop!

-Level up!!!-
Perk unlocked: Local Leader (Rank:1)

-The Local meat-shields/free-labor/cap-generators have deemed you somepony worth following. Welcome to logistics, economics, politics, and a hoof-ful of other ‘ics’! All these ponies are looking to you to make decisions for them, no pressure! Ready the pitchforks…

Author's Note

As of new years I will have been working on this story for two whole years. And after all this time, effort, potting, planning, and writing... I wanna know if you guys even enjoy it?

I've written nothing but this story for two years at the cost of other interests and sleep. So is it any good? Was it worth doing? (._. )

Chapter 11: Dreams (1/2)

Fallout Equestria: Lunar Archives
Chapter 11: Dreams

I fell into the sweet embrace of sleep such an afternoon of walking and mowing down raiders deserved. Falling deeper and deeper…and deeper… “How deep is this dream?” I looked around at the walls passing upwards with speed. “Why am I still falling?” I looked down to see the glint of rapidly approaching needles. “Is that a spike pit?! AHHH!!” I flailed moments before being skewered.

I shot up in the bed flailing before breathing enough to calm down. Hooves were checking all over my person for new holes. Nothing. “Thank the goddesses… no new holes.” I sighed slumping on the sheets.

“Wait… didn't I go to bed with a purpose?” I pondered before sitting up again remembering my intended duel with Luna. “You were supposed to fight me, coward! Not send me right back!” I punched a hoof into a pillow. “Eh!”

My justified fury fell upon deaf ears as the only sights and sounds to be had were the old dark room and the gentle patter of something on the roof. Rain?

I rolled out of bed and walked over to the curtains and gently nudged them aside. The darkness beyond seemed palpable yet waving as water fell over the ancient glass. The cul-de-sac was dark and empty. The rest of the houses but opaque shadows, and the lights of applewood were far out of focus. “Huh, I guess rain is real. And the Lightbringer I keep hearing so much about finally decided to drop some here… neat!” I shrugged letting the blinds drop back, was kinda dark and creepy out there not being able to see anything.

Squeeeak~

A metallic squeak came from behind me and I snapped back fast enough a less paranoid mare’s neck would have snapped. A lone desk lamp loomed over the Sweetie-Belle figurine… and it was on. There’s no way this house had power, the terminal sure, but everything else? Couldn’t be.

I stepped towards it as the light itself blew my night vision and turned the rest of the room into a blur. Such an intense little halo for such a small object… such a small…divine… Holy little thing. Such a pretty mare…and so close to the goddesses I could almost feel it.

“Go on~ Take it.” echoed around me.

The words wheezed and felt like hot humid breath on my ear. Yet when I looked nopony was there. “Alright, who’s there?!” I looked around the dark room but there was nothing but a blur. I reached for my flintlock but my saddle bags were gone. “Who are you?”

“Nopony important.” the voice wheezed sounding deep and strained, yet disturbingly familiar. “Just take it, You deserve it after all.”

No matter where I looked, the voice always seemed to be just over my shoulder. Wheezing, breathing, tainting. “I’m not taking the figurine. It belongs to Button Mash.”

“If he’s even alive.” the voice chuckled with the sound of clanking metal and straining lungs.

“Then it belongs to his mom!” I retorted. The moral high ground was mine!

“Exaaaaactly~” the voice hummed. “And that's why you should take it~ She doesn’t need it.” I looked left towards the source.

“You WANT it.” Behind my right ear, I looked again. “She won’t even notice it’s gone” on the left again.

“Im not….I don't…” I looked at the figurine.

“Don’t what? Deserve it? To bring such a pretty little thing to Daddy? To place it on the altar of your gods? To bask in the wayward souls such a relic will save?” The light over the little doll grew brighter. The longer I started the more intense the light grew, until the lifeless eyes of the Sweetie-Bell figure looked directly at me and her mouth moved to say in the same raspy voice. “To be loved?”

I recoiled from the figurine, what the actual fuck?! “Where the Buck are you?! Who are you?!” I was ready to throw hooves! “Im no thief!”

“It’s not theft, it’s just ‘accelerated archeology~’ Taking what you deserve. After everything you’ve done for that crazy ghoul? A whole night playing into her delusions?!” it wheezed. “Even actors get paid and this is but a PITTANCE!” They exclaimed as the figurine exploded into porcelain shrapnel and slime, smashed by an unseen hoof.

I managed to duck under some of the flying bits but the slime was thick and yellowish, hunks of brown and it smelled like... “Is this grease?” I mumbled looking down at some that got on my hoof. “I’m not taking it!” I resolved. “At this point just cause you’re being a creep about it!”

“Me? A creep? I didn't know we'd make so many breakthroughs tonight.” the mystery mare chuckled. “Admittance is only the first step towards recovery. Well.. that sounds like something PJ would say anyways.”

“You leave Pickle Jar out of this! Who are you?! Show yourself!”

“So demanding~ I love it. You’re lucky I’m so.. Mmm…generous~” It savored the word. “As I said, I’m nopony important~”

“Bullshit!!” Nothing this creepy isn’t important!

“How about you take THE ANSWERS YOU’RE GIVEN?!” It roared as the desk lamp was crumped next! The bulb popped in a blinding flash.

Opening my eyes the darkness gave way to terminal light. Standing before me was a mare three times my size. A familiar gray coat, orange spectrum mane, and adorned horn to hoof in gold and jewels that jingled with every movement. Anklets, rings, necklaces, and studs throughout the remains of a stable suit struggling to contain bulging rolls of fat. “What the…”

“As I said, nopony important. Just you~” My neck tilted back just to look past the rolls of lard and rubies on her neck to see her sneering face. She reeked of rot and halitosis. Her teeth were either gold or rotten and her mane a jungle of grease and haphazard jewelry.

“By Luna’s raging inferiority complex there’s no way you’re me! More like you ATE three of me!” I pointed out hoping she wasn't actually going to eat me. The idea made me skitter back just in case.

“I’m not ‘just’ you,” she emphasized taking a step towards me, shaking the floor and making me scoot back further. “I’m everything you deserve~ Everything you’ve deserved for the overflowing generosity you’ve provided.” she prodded me in the chest with a slick gilded hoof.

I gulped unable to escape the mental image of being swallowed whole by an overweight me! “Everything I.. deserve? But I brush my teeth!”

“Ughh, you’re thick.’ she exacerbated and coughed hacking phlegm onto the floor. “After everything you've given of yourself. If you want food, you deserve food! If you want riches, you’ve earned riches! You want love? Well, you Fucking take it! You had NOTHING, and gave everything!”

“That’s… not how generosity works! You’re supposed to give without expecting anything in return!”

“Well duh, you think I don't know that? Everypony in here knows that.” she tapped her temple. “Think about it. Call it luck, karma, or even cosmic justice if you want. Everypony says it's wrong to expect something in return, but deep down.. they all pray the universe rewards them in kind. I vowed to be generous, I AM generous.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, eyes, or nose. “No! You’re just some sick and twisted nightmare from a bucked-up part of my mind.” Her description of generosity was about as shallow as she was thick. “I’m not like that! I’m better than that! The goddesses know I’m better than that.” I stood up to the gold-plated larder. Stood up to ‘Generosity’. If she was part of me, she couldn't hurt me, right?

Generosity wheezed harder and growled stamping a hoof. “If you’re going to cling to your goddesses like a lost puppy, imagine what we could give them. I could give you everything, anything you desire! If you’d just listen to me-”

“No!!” I brick-walled.

“Fine!! If you think stubbornness will keep us away you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Us? What do you mean us?” I squinted.

“Yes us. You, me, and the rest of the circus bouncing around in your deranged head. I was generous enough to call dibs on taking center stage first to ‘spare you’ the others. They'd eat you alive. Unlike me, I’d saute you first, and add a little oregano.” she panted. “You’re welcome by the way~ call me when you’re done pussyhoofing on your useless morality. Be a good little filly for five minutes, It won’t last forever. We all know what can break you.”

“Nuh uh!” flawless comeback. “Even if you are a part of me, that makes me the whole. Being the sum of all my parts I will always be stronger than you. You can’t break me!”

The room began to rumble, then shake like an earthquake. The walls began to crack letting light pour through the seams of reality.

“Uh oh…”

Generosity looked around at the collapsing scenery and growled gritting her teeth. “This is my domain damn it! Do you wanna be broken? Cause I will bucking break you!” She looked over her bloated shoulder with a jingle to the TV in the back of Button’s room. “Check behind the TV.”

With her final words, the surroundings shattered, and Generosity dissolved into yellow goo, seeping into the receding shadows. Leaving me alone…in a blank white void… again!

“Phew, she's gone… I’m gone?” I said aloud freeing all the stress with a drawn-out sigh.

“Yes, that was rather unpleasant. Apologies I couldn’t get here sooner.” It was that mare’s voice from the other dreams. “Connecting without a mortal coil has gotten quite diff-”

“Luna!!” I pointed right at the disembodied voice as I got off my rear. All that fighting myself only served to work me up enough to fight a goddess! “Show yourself so I can kick your ass like a real mare!” I spun around looking for the mistress of stars and dreams. I don’t care if I was on her home turf, she was going to pay for all these nightmares! “And what the flying duck fuck was that?!” I waved around at all the places Generosity had once been.

There was a long pregnant pause and silence filled the void around me.

“Sister have mercy, he told you didn’t he?” she sighed as the holy herself materialized from black dust. The purple-black alicorn in all her nighttime splendor, one of the pinnacles of all pony kind. Her wings, Her massive horn, the crescent moon stamped on her flank atop a patch of midnight black, and… is she only a head taller than me?

I dropped back onto my rear again sitting on the invisible floor of the white void in awestruck astonishment. “You… you’re…”

Luna composed herself like she was preparing to explain her existence to a lowly mortal like me... Again. “Luna, Princess of the night, mistress of dreams, Younger sister of Princess Celestia, and-”

“Short…” I added looking her up and down through my jar-lid glasses.

“I… short?” she blinked like her entire speech flew out a third-story window.

“Yeah short, like… you’re only a foot taller than me.”

“I umm.. That's… well above average pony size if I recall. I just…” she glanced nervously around the void. “Did the radiation make ponies taller?”

“Well no, but you’re only a bit taller than Moonstone. You’re like... I was…” I scratched my mane before shrugging. “Kinda expected you to be taller? Like three times taller, with a halo, and being escorted by a small army of angelic bat ponies. Really showboat your way in here and live up to that inf-”

She stamped a hoof and her horn glowed black. “One more word about this supposed inferiority complex and you’ll face evicting Dream-Pickle right now!”

My mane stood on end and my heart stopped. “Nonononono! Thats okay! What inferiority complex?! I never said anything about an inferiority complex! Who said that? I didn’t!” I gave my best winning smile. I was nowhere near mentally ready to face dream PJ right now!

“Really now?!” she stepped closer, lowering her horn at me. “You’re sure you have nothing to say about it? Cause I can summon her right now if you think my sister and I aren't equal in everything but age.”

I leaned back as far as I could to keep the horn from poking me in the chest. I nodded as fast as I could with my eyes closed tight and my forelegs shielding my head. “MMHMM!!” I mmhmmed.

The glow stopped and the princess calmly sat down. “Good~ It's hard to feel inferior when your sister dumps all of Equestria on your withers now isn't it?”

I nodded, slowly lowering my hooves. How was I supposed to fight her now?…

“Tea?” she asked as a small table and ornate black tea set simply poofed into existence.

How was I supposed to fight her now?!!! “I umm… yes please…” I squeaked sliding up to the small table before being hovered over a small cup to take in my telekinesis.

“I suppose we should get down to business now. I intended for the mysterious benefactor charade to last longer, but it seems somebody ‘jumped the gun’ as the soldiers say.” she sipped, and hesitantly so did I but couldn't taste a thing. “How’s Pinkie-Pie fairing?”

“She was… uhh…” I tried to find a delicate way to not say she was sitting on a mountain of mint-als.

“High as a kite?” she added raising a brow partway through sipping her tea.

“I was gonna say good. But.. yeah.” I scratched my mane.

“And what did she tell you?” She asked sounding like that was the real question.

“Well umm..” I ummed racking my brain for memories from my drug-fueled trip to the past. “She said we were related, that I was inbred…” I looked up from the tasteless tea to see the princess nodding along. Maybe I should skip over the part about the big stallions. “Something about an archive and how she’d tell me how to find the keys to it later? The password to a basement and a bit about geese being gentrified ducks?”

“Hmm..so that's the lock method she chose to go with…” Luna pondered aloud.

“E-excuse me?” I meeped across the table. Where did my half-earth-pony bravado run off to?! She's right there! She needs to pay for throwing me in the pit of underwater ghoul mes!

“Oh, it's nothing. Just that Pinkie-Pie, much like her friends, grew super fond of secret projects as the war raged on. You’ve read Little Pip’s book haven’t you?”

“Uhhhhh…” I uhhed as a bookshelf materialized next to me with only the ‘wasteland survival guide’ on it.

“I see..” She sipped. “Very well, I’ve worked with far less, though I’d recommend reading a copy at your earliest convenience. I believe Ditzy-Doo sells them.” she nodded.

“Why does everypony keep bringing up this Little Pip character? She keeps cropping up like..all the time.” The shelf behind me started filling with little figurines of everypony who mentioned her thus far.

“Simple,” she said matter-of-factly “She saved the wasteland about a year ago and currently controls the SPP weather towers alongside my sister.”

“WHAT?!” I spewed tasteless tea across the little table and right onto a small umbrella that appeared between us.

“Honestly you need to read her book.”

“Celestia’s alive?! I thought she died with you 200 years ago so save our flanks from the bombs, or pay for our sins, or evade taxes or something!” How much hoof waving was too much hoof waving?

“We didn’t pay taxes.” sip “We received taxes.” She answered casually as the umbrella disappeared leaving a tea puddle on the dream floor.

“Not my point!”

“Neither is it mine.” she set the teacup aside. “My sister being quasi-alive and hanging out with Little Pip is less important than the task I have for you. Something along the lines of and I quote ‘some kind of grand and over-the-top quest I have to go on to save all of Equis or something.” For the love of the goddess in front of me she was quoting me?!

I blinked sitting there, mouth agape until her horn glow closed it for me. “You know I was exaggerating right?” I asked.

“I do, But I don’t. As you know back when I sat on the throne I decentralized the government into 6 ministries. One for each of Twilight’s friends, correct?”

I nodded along having at some point replaced the tea cup with a juice box. I remembered history class…

“Each of them helped run equestria while I held executive power. They ran everything they did by me for approval, even all the little secret projects to help the war effort.”

I kept nodding, sliding the straw in and out of the box as I listened. The dream slowly shifted to look like the stable chapel with Luna herself sitting on the Altar.

“Out of all of them, minus Applejack being too honest for such things, Pinkie-Pie proposed the least amount of wartime projects. The most secretive and tricksy of them all was the most blatant about her operations… and atrocities.”

“And you thought this was suspicious?” I asked conjuring another juice box out of dream stuff.

“I was… very stressed at the time, so.. Yes.” She admitted with a brief flutter of her massive wings. “It seemed outside her nature to not have something secretive going on, even if it was a prank or somepony’s birthday party. I tried looking into her dreams but they were about as nonsensical as yours.”

“Most ponies would call that paranoid…” I added conjuring a spoon and a canned taco to eat out of.

“That’s…. Are you summoning snacks in the middle of my exposition?”

I looked down at the empty juice boxes and the canned taco. “Uhhh….no?” This is a dream, so I am technically not lying!

Luna facehoofed. “Did Scootaloo not build a single stable with royal etiquette in mind?”

“Apparently not~” I added eating a scoop of tacoy goodness. “You were saying something paranoid about secret projects and Saint Pinkie?”

“Saint?” Luna paused “Oh right, you’re one of those… Ahem.” She coughed, and a small halo of light appeared around her. “I believe there was a project Pinkie didn’t tell me about. And I want you to find it. This ‘Archive’ she mentioned.”

“Saint Pinkie? A project she hid from a goddess herself? Pleeeease~” I pleased, Pshawed even. “Why would she hide anything from you? Her job was just to make ponies happy right? And apparently, crack down on sympathizers or something.” I asked, nomming more dream tacos.

“That’s what I’d like you to find out. I suspect some time midway through the war she started working on the project without telling me. Whatever it was she deliberately kept it hidden from me and likely never finished it. I’d like you to find it.”

“Is this the part of the story where I ask why?”

“Yes…”

“Why?” I asked fulfilling my prophecy.

Without missing a beat. “Because you’re the only Pinkie descendent available who isn't busy shooting his way through New Pegas with a pinkie robot.”

“You mean Los-pegasus right? Cause I’m like… sleeping in it right now.”

“No, a completely separate place, some kind of naming agreement between Horse and the warlords. Anyway.” she coughed. “The door to your stable only just recently opened after 200 years and your father is too old for grand adventure. Which leaves you.”

“Why not anypony else from the stable? Like PJ? Or Tulip? I’d read the slutty wasteland adventures of Tulip-patch any day.” I squinted grabbing another juice box from the pile I dreamed of next to me.

“This is not the ‘why me?’ speech I was hoping for.” she sighed. “Convenience. You left the stable when everypony else thought it was suicide. You’ve got enough of that nebulous pinkie-sense rattling around to talk to her. Your sense of self-preservation in the face of real danger is… adequate. You’re the most mentally suited to the task…. And B-Rad vouched for you.”

“You know Brad?!”

“I know everypony don’t I?” she raised a brow

“Too shay…” I squinted while a glowing green radroach manifested atop the rest of my dream pile.

“So do you accept? Long ago, such projects tipped the scales of war in our favor. But in the wasteland, such projects are incredibly dangerous in the wrong hooves.”

“I see…” I looked down at the juice box between my hooves. “I don’t have a choice do I?”

“Not unless you want some ancient weapon of mass destruction to end up in the hooves of somepony like… I don't know. The Stone brothers?”

The background of my dream filled with the mental image of Brick and Rocky Road twirling cartoonishly evil mustaches and pressing a big red button. Old Mountain exploded into a mushroom cloud of rainbows, tentacles, and Pinkie clones. “Fair point…”

“Your imagination is very active… and accurate,” she comments ducking under a rogue Pinkie clone flying by.

“So I’ve been told. And I accept.” This was an opportunity I wasn’t going to pass up.

“Excellent, now we-”

“IF!!” I raised a hoof!

“If?... if what?” she asked sounding concerned.

I pointed off to the side and by the powers of lucid dreaming a spotlight flashed on. The white mist of dreams parted to reveal a boxing ring, red and blue, folding chairs, the works!

“You can’t be serious…” she blinked.

“I’ll accept your quest IF you fight me in the ring! Mare to mare, mono e’ mono, I’d even go as far as raw hoofticuffs!”

“Sweet sister you’re serious…”

“I’m bucking serious! I demand vengeance for that dream where you threw me into a pool of zomb-mes! The drowning in chalk dust, The constant flashbacks to getting bashed in the face with a stall door! And all those other bed-wetting nightmares when I was a kid! I’ve had enough!”

“Three-quarters of those weren’t even me…”

“I don’t care!” I pointed harder at the ring. “Fight meee!!”

With a deep breath, Luna stood from the altar and the halo flickered away. “Very well, If that’s what it takes to get you to help so be it.”

“Don’t try and talk your way out of it. I’ve been ready to… you what?” I stopped looking up at the goddess casting a shadow over me as my stuff dissolved away. She seemed bigger.

“I said yes. You’re not the first to ask for something like this.” In a flash, we both teleported into the boxing ring. The only difference was that we both had headbands and a pair of boxing gloves. “Earth pony rules or unicorn rules?”

“I…I uhh…” I looked down at the boxing gloves. “There’s rules?”

“Of course, you didn't think we were gonna beat each other to death with hoofball bats did you?”

I stared long and hard at her trying to come up with an answer not deserving of divine judgment.

“I should have known. We’ll use unicorn rules then.” her horn glowed and wrapped her gloves in the same glow. “Simply use your telekinesis to hold the gloves instead of your forehooves. Less dangerous, low injury chance, and turns an exercise of brawn into an exercise of the mind.” she nodded assuredly.

I did the same, hovering up my gloves. “Oookay.. So I just hit you right?”

“Yes, Since we're not keeping score just swing until you feel better about all the nightmares.” She did a few small jabs with the gloves. “I must warn you though. I had over a millennium to practice shadowboxing before you were born. I even made dreams for Rocky PalPonna you know~, so don't hold back.”

A lone sweat drop ran down my temple. “I…I uhh… I’ll have my vengeance?” I meeped.

“That's the spirit.” she tapped her gloves together. “Put 'em up.”

I hoisted gloves, I needed to psyche myself up, this was my one opportunity to get back at her for all the nightmares! I can do this! DING!DING! “Veeeeeengeance! Reeee!!” I swung right with all the energy my horn could put into it.

Great force, such passion, all focused on my initial right hook. Time slowed as the princess swiftly dipped under my glove, and in a brief glimpse of a blurry black glove approaching the side of my face, everything flashed white.

***

I shot up in the bed panting and looking around the room frantically. I was still in Button Mash’s room. “What happened? I was about to...” I paused as the fleeting memories of recent dreams surfaced before slipping into oblivion. “Goddess bucking damn it!!” I punched a hoof into one of the plush pillows. “I was gonna kick her ass! And she KO’d me?!” I yeeted the pillow to the other end of the bed. “Nyeeeehh!!”

Darkness, mixed with the gentle glow of Button’s terminal and my pip-buck screen. The pitter-patter of rain fell on the roof above while down below it sounded like Moonstone and Lucy were arguing again. Probably over who got what side of the bed, or maybe Lucy wanted all the covers to herself? Who knows? There was that repetitive ‘thump’ coming from the walls too. Lucy and Moonstone were probably too busy fighting to hear the bats smacking into the side of the house… repeatedly and with a passion judging by the intensity. How such defective creatures manage to survive in nature I’ll never know.

I exhaled, letting the frustration flow out with it as I slumped on the bed. “I’ll get her next time…” with a squint, I looked down at my pipbuck. “30 minutes… I was out for 30 minutes and all that happened. I hate nap dreams!” I groaned and blew away some of the mane that fell over my face. “Stupid Generosity…stupid OP goddess one tapping me in my epic dual of vengeance..” I grumbled hovering the pillow back from across the bed.

I looked around the room hoping the urge to sleep would return soon so I could dive back in for a round 2 with Luna when my eyes fell upon the TV. Twas the largest screen I’d ever seen really, a massive box of a thing that took up the entire far wall of the room.

“Check behind the TV.” echoed in the back of my mind before fading with the rest of my dream’s memory.

“She was probably just messing with me… right?” I thought aloud looking over at said TV. “I mean… what could possibly be back there anyways? I…” I paused looking at the TV all the longer. “Buck it!” I rolled out of bed and trotted over.

“I’ll settle this once and for all. Generosity is full of herself and there's nothing back here…” I faced the TV with trepidation and my pip-light. I knew not why I was procrastinating but I cracked and started shoving a small pile of cardboard boxes away from the edge of the TV. “If I find a skeleton back here I’m gonna-..”

I blinked, Wedged between the back of the TV and the wall was a tight bundle of papers- no, magazines. Dozens, wrapped in plastic and neatly stacked together. “No way…” The odds that all of these were preserved were next to nill yet, as gingerly as my horn could manage, I slid them from behind the TV.

Atop the dusty stack was a faded yellow sticky note that read:

‘I know these are here. -Mom’

She probably wrote it decades if not centuries ago, but why would she leave a note? I learned why. With shaky legs, burning muzzle, and blood running down my nose I learned why. Dozens of near-mint-condition Wingboner and Playmare magazines sorted chronologically, with bookmarks no less! He had three years of consecutive issues packed in here, and after the Ponish characters were Neighponese ones with just as many nonsensical titles as the posters.

“Holy horseapples I found his stash…” I couldn’t believe it, and I did my damnedest not to squee as I sifted through the wrapped magazines. “I Didn't know a mare could fold like that…and that's just the cover?!”

I flipped through more “Sweet fucking Celestia… “ I pulled an odd one wedged between several magazines, something large and folded up. With the utmost goddess-given level of delicacy I could manage, I unfolded something that would blow any mare away. A full body, signed, pin-up of a VERY lewd Sweetie-Belle presenting it all with bedroom eyes that could kill. No censor bars, no captions, and no serial number… this was one of a kind. She made this! There was something written in the blank space. “Sorry you couldn't come on tour with me… college schedules can suck like that… miss you Buttons. Mash ‘A’ for me~ Sweetie…Belle… X heart X.” I read aloud.

My heart leaped and I rapidly folded the poster back up and slipped it back into the safety of the plastic. “HolyshitHolyshitHolyshiiiiit!” I wheezed. “The mare from the stable history book isn’t supposed to be that hot! Nor did it say anything about who this Button-Mash stallion is!” I inhaled and finally…regretfully… squeed like a little filly. Pranced in place to boot. “Eeeeeeehehehee!! The nerd living with his mom was plowing one of the founding three! Eeeeheheheee!”

You know what this means dear archive reader?! It means that I of all ponies had a chance with literally anypony! It’s great, wonderful, a revelation! A- it hit me. “Luna’s horn in my ass… this is what Generosity meant by breaking me isn’t it?”

I looked at the long-gone stallion's collection in all its plastic-wrapped glory. Even two centuries old it glittered with value and my very being ached to take it all. The pile alone surpassed my life’s work in volume several times over, I’d never need to draw flank again. I could trade away half of it and still have enough to satisfy the rest of my life. And here it was… unguarded, waiting 200 years to be found. “I.. I…”

I gulped and tried to find some moral high ground to cling to in the face of this tsunami of greed. What would the princesses do? I looked at the tiny princesses who were both sitting nearby reading tiny versions of the magazines. “Okay… if the goddesses can’t help me, I must consult even older greater powers.” I racked my mind for the memories of the ancient rules I learned from the other kids in middle school. “The Bro Code…” I remembered “Rule 69 sub-clause C1. A bro’s stash is sacred until 20 years after death.” Not even the goddesses could compel ponies to action like the Bro code could… and they compelled A LOT of ponies.

“Okay… okay… Button’s has definitely been dead for ten times the recommended safe period. But sub-clause D says taking ALL of it would be a ‘dick move’. And the punishment for a dick move is… as severe as it is nebulous.” I gulped eyeing the pile. “What if I… only take a few things from it? That should be okay, right? If I find his body I’ll bury the collection with him, that's fair... Yeah! He’d be honored! Grateful even to be reunited with his stash.”

With moral high ground found and compromises made, I just needed to pick 1 thing… just one. I whipped out my archive and slid the one-of-a-kind Sweetie Belle between the pages. “Peeeerrrfect~” I cooed closing the book with due reverence. “The Bro code is satisfied. And all without giving in to Generosity.” I looked back to the bed. “I should probably go back to bed. Get round 2 in with Luna before I apologize for consulting one of the only powers to rival her’s.”

I traded the archive for Brad and squeezed him.

‘Squeeeeak~’

My life being slightly more complete hearing that sound, I placed him atop the pillow and buried my face in him. I’m sure he’s hanging out with Luna right now.

Chapter 1: Give me love, Give me fire.

Author's Note

Feel free to help point out gaping plot holes, grammar mistakes, or just ask questions in the comments. I don't bite...

Chapter 1: Give me love, Give me fire.

Chapter 1: Give me love, give me fire.

“Ponies for the mines. The mines for the stable. The stable for all ponykind,” I mumbled to myself glancing up at the faded words above the classroom window. The gentle thrum of the ventilation systems mixed with the echoes of distant rock breakers, only interrupted by the squeak of my cleaning cart's wheels and the creaks of rusted panels I passed over. The room on the other side of the dusty centuries old glass was dark of all but the dim light that bled in from the hallway I stood. The few remaining chairs and desks left stacked, spared a trip to the recycler should the next generation need them. Even then only visible to one accustomed to the dark of the stable’s lower levels. “Oh Celestia if only…” I sighed, my horn glowing lifting the rag from the water bucket in the cart behind me. This was going to take all shift to scrub the layer of mixed limestone and rust dust off the glass, the floor... And the walls! Honestly I’d bet meal cakes this was just another one of the overmare’s little busy work projects. It’s not like anypony’s been down here in years.

It was going to be another one of those days, wasn’t it? “Rust and dust till your horn bust,” was how Tulip put it. I'd say she was right if she hadn’t been intentionally saying it just to piss me off. Looking into the classroom though my ears twitched, it was hard not to hear the past in a place like this. Old and forgotten just like the rest of the last generation, nopony cared, nopony bothered to remember all the things that happened down here. I could hear the giggling and the sounds of play, back before Tulip learned to hate me like the rest of them. I mean, who ever heard of a filly getting her cutie mark as early as kindergarten? If I took my glasses off and squinted I could almost see the silhouettes of my classmates running around the room, playing with whatever toys the hobbyists managed to sand down from leftover rubble. Then there was me sitting at the filly-sized table over in the corner, scribbling away on the very last blank spaces of the paper Miss Appleboom had managed to find for me. One of the only two ponies in the room with a cutie mark on her hip. A school of fish for the teacher and a crossed pencil and charcoal-stick on the flank of the scrawny gray foal with the faded summer striped mane. The filly struggled to keep the glasses the size of her head from sliding off her muzzle, one size for the rest of her life they said.

I passed the wet rag over the window not doing much for ten years of built-up gunk, but it did shift what I saw beyond. Sweet princesses, I wish I had soap. My disdain for rationing grew like vent mold with every pass I made smearing this filth. The faint shifting memories continued to play out through several layers of glass and grime. It was hard to forget all the fillies and colts gathered around the smallest in the room, gawking and poking at her flank like it was the most fascinating thing in stable 83. To be fair it was, there wouldn't be another for the next three years.

“Cmon Sketchy! Tell us how you d-deed it,” one crouched pale brown colt was asking as he gingerly prodded a forehoof at the scrawny foal’s mark from her side.

“I-I-I dunno! I was just drawing a circle and… and…” the little pencil gray unicorn shrinking down as she was surrounded by the other kindergarten foals. Holding a piece of paper over her head tightly like she was trying to hide under a blanket. Whimpering and bordering on tears as she was buried in questions she didn’t have the answer to. “S-stop touching Meeeeheheheee!”

The crowd of foals was only dispersed by a quickly approaching cherry red teacher shooing the foals away with gentle nudges of her hoof. “Bronze, leave the poor filly alone, you're scaring her. Same goes from the rest of you, what did I tell you about ganging up on Sketchy like this?” Miss Appleboom’s voice was so sweet even when she was trying to scold the other kindergarteners.

“But Mooooom! She’s the first to get one! She hast tah know how she deed eet,” Bronze whined getting nudged away from the newly marked filly, haunches sliding on the then smooth metal floor.

That's right… I’d almost forgotten Miss Appleboom was Bronze’s mom. Along with probably three or four other foals in the class that year. I don’t know how I didn't notice before, but being great with foals, a soul like honey, and a flank like… well… that! No wonder Bronze had seven half siblings… and maybe one or two full siblings? Wait- Eww! No! Come back from that corner brain! You're not going to think about your kindergarten teacher’s fine flank right now! You’re not allowed to defile the pleasant memory corner, not after what you made me do to the memory of Pickle-Jar’s Cute-ceañera. Now where was I?

Oh right. As unfortunate as it was that the last foal did her in, Miss Appleboom was possibly the kindest mare I've ever known. She didn't have to get me that piece of paper, in fact I think it was already a rule at that point that physical paper wasn’t to be used outside of explicitly special circumstances. Pipbucks and terminals only, after all you can’t make more paper out of rocks. How was she supposed to know I’d draw a perfect circle first try, or even that it would trigger my cutie mark? Her sweetness was only marred by the brief ‘oh dear’ when she first saw the mark fate had bestowed upon my gray ass. She knew I’d end up like this from that very moment, I didn’t. Apparently the job market for ponies who could draw decently wasn’t very high in a stable that revolved around the mines. Wasteful even, now that paper was considered a treasure to be hoarded.

I blinked and the memories shattered away like fridge ice as from far down the hall I heard a distant building hiss. Hurried hooves on raw stone and conversation distorted by distance.

“No no no NO NO NO!!” That sounded like Bronze.

Then came a loud and deep pop ‘POOM!!’ followed by three or four zippy metallic pings. And that sounded like rock breaker 6 having a blow out again.

“FFFFFFUCK!!!... Fuck…fuck,” reverberated all the way up from the mine shafts confirming to me that I was correct on both accounts. I looked back to the window I had been trying to clean while taking a boredom fueled trip down memory lane. “Wha? When did I… how-?... Ughh,” I groaned as upon the dusted up window were lines that if one looked from where I had been standing became the outlines of where all the old school equipment used to be. The desks, the chairs, the chalkboard, all of it… even the less than detailed foals scattered about with the various stone toys. In addition even the lines that were drawn didn't really get that rusty haze off the glass I was supposed to be cleaning.

“Well now I really don’t wanna clean it…” Thus was the pain of being a creator by nature. Not only did I not want to ruin all that effort, cause it looked nice, but I knew full well there wasn't a point to begin with. Nopony ever came down here aside from me and couples thinking they can be sneaky. Tossing the rag back into the bucket of my sparsely populated janitor’s cart I sighed, taking in the still rusted over hall.

“Piece of-… ancient-… horse apples!!” echoed Bronze’s voice along with several heavy clangs and clinks. Sounded like he was taking a hammer to the equipment again. I swear he may be built like a rock breaker, but he was about as smart as one too. Not to mention his patience with machines was shorter than the lifespan of the patches maintenance keeps slapping on the things. He was going to get into trouble no matter what if he dealt any real damage to the breaker, intentionally or not. All that left me was the ever tempting decision of staying out of his way and finding something else to do this shift like a reasonable pony… or tippy-hooving down there to watch a big dumb chisel buck lose his shit. I could see it now, muscles rippling, fury in his eyes, sweat dripping, all of it in slow motion to boot. It sure was a lot of buck swinging that hammer. Heh… wait what was that? I paused feeling something warm and wet drip down onto my forehoof. I look down to see a lone dark red dot, I look up to the ceiling reflexively to see if it’s another leak only to finally feel the same wet warmth run down the very tip of my muzzle.

“Luna damn it not again!” my hooves quickly came up to hold my nose while my horn glowed. Swishing my rag around in the already rust red bucket water as quickly as possible before bringing it out. With a rusty semi-clean rag slowly going darker red I was able to stand up magic keeping the dripping cloth in place. Curse you brain! Taking petty vengeance on a poor mare just cause I wouldn't let you defile the memories of my teacher. Now I’d have to stay here and miss out on both opportunities. He'd call me a creep if he saw me watching him with a nosebleed again. Why can’t ponies around here believe me when I tell them I'm just getting inspiration to draw!?

According to my pipbuck it took 10 minutes of holding the rag and pacing the hall to get this one to stop, now I just needed to dispose of the erm… evidence. Ponies are going to accuse me of being a pervert if they saw I had another nosebleed. Oh who am I kidding they already think that, but I don’t want to give them a reason to actively say it! It was time for operation ‘hide the tissue’ once again. I knew there was a sink in the little fillie’s room two floors up I could use to drain the bucket and wash the rag. Buuut there was the issue of avoiding literally everypony along the way in addition to the risk of somepony walking in. Best case scenario I don’t get spotted, middle case somepony sees me but doesn't say anything, and worse case it’s those security asshats just having to ‘investigate’ the origin of any blood found. I don't feel like being subjected to the interrogation spell again, it would be mortifying and they’d tease me about it for months! Why must most of these possibilities suck?!

I checked for ALL nearby tags in reference to my current position and started moving the cart like all was normal. Deep breaths, it was just another day on the janitorial shift, act like I’m doing my job… yeah, I should bring the mop to the bathroom too, really cement my cover story. I’ll just come back to cleaning this hallway tomorrow, overmare’s busywork projects come after my base duties unless it's an emergency. Don’t smile, don't make eye contact, don't draw attention. They don’t want to start conversations with you, never have, don’t give them a reason too now.

The coast was clear, too clear. My eyes scanning up and down the hallway I had mopped just yesterday and- damn it who tracked hoofprints in here!? Ah! Focus Sketchy, gotta get to the bathroom and I should be in the clear. With my cart in front of me I gently pushed it along with my hooves, whistling ever so casually as my eyes kept darting down to my pipbuck checking for any approaching tags. The nearest tags seemed to be the night shift maintenance guys, most of their rooms were over here anyways so they'd have to surrender precious sleep to ever spot me. The faint squeak of the cart wheels and my super casual janitor whistling mingled with the faint hum of the air vents at work, my pace only broken so I could peek around the corner of a T junction in the hallway. It led all the way to the lowest floor of the atrium, but thank Celestia nobody was in it at the moment so I could scamper on by. This level of paranoia probably wasn't healthy for a mare my age but- oh hey the bathroom!

Slipping into the mares only bathroom the first wave of relief swept over me, hopefully not the last. A quick glance around the room I scrubbed just yesterday and not another mare in sight. Showers, clear, stalls, clear, and one last peek into the hallway I was just in… clear! Now to wash away the evidence. A quick glance at the pipbuck showed no tags directly approaching and I set to work. Dumping the tainted water in the bucket was the first and fastest thing I could do, but the hard part was going to be the rag. I can’t just toss it cause recycling would just pick it out and reprimand me for it not being seven different kinds of tattered beyond use. Scrubbing with my hooves and keeping it under constantly running water was doing a decent enough job given I didn't let the rag dry out, but it was taking its sweet time. There was a faint beep from my pipbuck and I wanted to freeze, looking down a new tag had shown up and was practically B-lining it for the bathroom. Crap!Crap!Crap! No! It was Pickle Jar! Sweet Luna anypony but her! Quick act normal sketchy! Act normal!

My horn had just only stopped glowing when the cotton white mare came into the bathroom and spotted me. Her flowing emerald green mane gently bobbed with every step she took… I have no idea how she kept it up like that. Still I whistled casually as I had my bucket in the sink with the semi-bloody cloth swirling around in the filling water. She blinked, spotting me and her eyes fell into that faint glare everypony seemed to have for me these days.

“Sketchy…” princesses I could just feel the disgust in her voice…that or I was overthinking it.

“P-Pickle…” I stammered trying the best coworker/neighbor smile I could as she walked over to one of the bathroom stalls.

Pickle-Jar, like the rest of them, had gotten her cutie mark years after I got mine and even several years past our other peers too. The overmare had to let her do chores in the cafe for her mark to finally appear, at least it was useful. “S-Soooo… H-hows your shift been Pi-”

“Don’t even try it Sketchy, we both know you don’t come in here on Fridays… at all if you can help it,” she cut me off from the stall. I froze, my heart could resume beating at any time now… Any time now, heart!?

“Wh-what are you talking about? I just…” I needed to pull some kind of excuse out of my ass. What happened to all that planning I did on the way up here? Brain!?

“Everypony knows you’ve been using the emergency chem-spill shower down in maintenance to bathe since middle school. You know… after somepony rearranged your muzzle with the stall door,” she stated it so dismissively, like I couldn't suddenly feel the pain in my muzzle or remember being curled up on the tile floor bleeding out my face. It wasn’t my fault Tulip had still been a blank-flank in 7th grade, she didn’t need to take it out on me.

“Yeah I remember…but-” my forehoof was already up rubbing at my snoot’s phantom pains when Pickle continued.

“But why are you up here now? Someone in maintenance threaten to shove the mop up your flank again cause you found one of their stills?” There was a flush from the earth pony’s stall. She didn’t sound upset at least.

“N-no… I just-”

“Walked in on two ponies going at it?”

“No..”

“Broke something?”

“I…”

“Got a nosebleed thinking about all the flank you're not getting?” The stall door opened and she still had that same dismissive glare resting on her face whenever she looked at me. Trotting her way up to the farthest sink from me to wash her hooves.

Oww, she didn’t have to say it like that. “H-How did you know that? I Just-” My words refused to work the way I wanted them to. Talking to ponies shouldn’t be this damn hard!

She just sighed. “Well for one you just admitted to it.”

“Oh…” stupid stupid stupid! I could feel the attraction between my forehead and the rim of this sink growing

“Secondly you still have blood on your hoof.” she pointed and I looked down to see the red dot on the front of my right forehoof…fuck. “And third.” she pointed her wet hoof back up at me directly. “You try way too hard to act casual when you do something pervy you don’t want ponies to notice. Nopony actually whistles like that.”

“I-I do not!” I retorted back pointing my hoof in turn to no real effect on her no horse apples given expression.

“Fourth, you do too, you're a terrible liar,” she added, turning and heading for the door.

Okay she’s walking away. Don’t stare at her flank Sketchy, don’t stare at her flank… she will totally notice your eyes going from her gorgeous bobbing mane, down her back, over that flawless coat that makes you question how she got her hooves on the shampoo needed for that perfect texture, and lastly down to the pickle jar printed on her flank I could just-

“Sketchy…” Pickle said my name bringing my eyes back up to her’s looking back at me with a slightly more annoyed glare. Luna’s massive black horn going in sideways I had been staring again! Why brain why?!! What did I ever do to you?! That was when I felt the wet warmth running down my nose again… oh fuck you too! I could just imagine the wrinkly pink thing running around up there playing with valves and buttons giggling like he’s the funniest little shit in the world.

Pickle-jar just sighed and walked out of the bathroom “Don’t judge the pervert Pickle… she can’t help it,” less than mumbled on her breath with a sprinkle more disdain than before.

“Wait Pickle I- damn it…” I groaned as soon as my forehead met the edge of the sink thumping on the metal again and again while my nose kept leaking onto the floor. At this point my horn just glowed and twisted the little knob on my pipbuck to turn off the tag-tracker, it was too late to care anymore.

I dumped the new bucket of tainted water and finished washing the rag out best I could so nopony would think anything of how slightly redder it was now. I’d just say rust if they asked. Great, now I can’t unsee that face Pickle made when she walked out and every time that little moment replayed in my mind she just seemed to get bigger and more pissed… that or I was getting smaller either way by pass number seven she had fangs and-

I shook my head trying to get that minecart of thought derailed as soon as possible. You know what? I’m turning this into a mental health day, what are they gonna do? Actually look for me down in lower levels? My room is the first place they’d check for me if they can't find me so… Aha!!

With my janitorial gear stashed back in the closet next to my room I went for the one place nopony would ever look for me. I kept my head down, minus my janitor’s harness I was down to only my jumpsuit so the other stable ponies wouldn’t think I was on duty. Avoid eye contact, ignore the sneers, and just keep walking. If anypony was in the way they would disperse before I even got halfway across the room just to avoid me.

There it was though, on the far side of the atrium was an alcove in the wall, the only sanctuary I had that was more literal than figurative. Looking up to the twisted wire framework of the two century old stained glass, it may have been missing most of its colors to time, but one could still see the depiction of two Alicorns circling a large star. The faded words below still read in big bold letters ‘Chapel’ and I walked in. It was a simple rectangular room, a tattered red rug running down the middle that had seen countless weddings and funerals. A handful of remaining pews off to either side were worn and scratched to hell and back but they were some of the last remaining pieces of wood the stable had to offer. The apple trees over in hydroponics were too precious to cut down to make more, even when dead. Along the side walls were small evenly spaced alcoves about the same size as the front door, each with some kind of heavily faded mural that couldn’t really tell the stories of the princesses and harmony as well as they used to. Finally down at the far end was a simple and slightly elevated altar with a much larger mural taking up most of the wall behind it lit by electric candelabras, half the flame shaped bulbs dead. This mural may have been identical to what was left of the strain-glass window up front, but looked far better maintained. You could still tell the alicorn on the left was Celestia and the dark one on the right was Luna. Sisterly equals overseeing all of ponykind and maintaining harmony from the everafter… must be nice.

“Father Thumper?” I called with no real answer in turn. The rickety old earth pony was usually around, but it seemed I was the only one here at the moment. The serene silence that clung to my ears was held together by centuries old soundproofing behind the walls and only broken by the faint thrum of the vent fans, just like everywhere else in the stable. If I was alone… I was going to do the only thing any self respecting single mare would do when perfectly alone on holy ground! Plop my tail firmly in one of the front pews where it was nicely worn in and take deep breaths basking in the silence. I got about three of those meditative breaths in before a familiar preacher hobbled in from one of the chapel's back rooms.

“Oh it’s you Sketchy. For a second there I thought it was going to be somepony else feeling guilty for once,” chuckled the old earth-buck hobbling his way into the room. Even in his stable jumpsuit one could see his ribs faintly showing through the fabric and around his collar. His coat dulled with age, and if it weren't for him being in a lot of the wedding photos around the stable you’d never know how much of a shining black stallion he used to be. His thick leather tome of a cutie mark was just as pristine as the day he got it through.

“Nice to see you too, Father Thumper. I see you’ve been working out, at this rate you're going to reach the end of time before the rest of Equestria,” I retorted with the first smile in a while starting to grow on my face, I could even feel a giggle coming on.

He smirked “Yeah it's going great, I managed to out-age dirt just last week.” Now, I was giggling as he started doing a little strut and flexing like a buck a quarter his age. “I still got goals after all! Next I gotta get ahead of fossils and the dust behind the cafe fridge.” he trotted in place till we both heard something pop, winced, and his eyes went briefly wide. “Yep! Dirt is a sore loser… owwww.” he got down on his haunches pressing a hoof to his back and stretching till I heard another pop that made me wince again. “Now that that's back where it belongs, I gotta say it's a sad day when the only two ponies in the stable chapel are the pastor and the stable’s biggest little sinner~” he smiled.

“Hey! I'm not that bad,” I huffed slumping down in the pew till my hinds hung far enough off the edge to reach the floor.

“No, no you're not… you're just the only one that admits to it,” he nudged my slumping form with a hoof to drive the point home.

I had to defend myself “I don’t steal, or drink, or slam reactor coolant in my veins trying to get high, I dont sleep around-” counting them off on my extended hooves till he interrupted.

“Ah ah ah~ You're right you don’t, but you really want to and in the princesses’ eyes that counts,” the priest retorted, taking a seat next to me on the pew… it was hard to tell which creaked more.

“Wait really?!”

“Pfft~ no!” he chuckled again much to my chagrin, leaving me to grumble and groan at him. “That’s the third time you’ve fallen for that one Sketchy. Celestia would smite this place into a crater deeper than the mine if just thinking about it was bad,” he added, patting my shoulder like it would make me less upset about his little jab… which it did. Curse you pastorly charisma!

“You really like toying with people's immortal souls don’t you?” I grumbled folding my forehooves over my chest.

“Oh you're just now catching on? I thought you knew all old people have necromantic powers!” he started wiggling both his withered forehooves at me “Wooooo~ I’mma takin your soooulll~”

Okay I couldn't help it now, I giggled, laughed even… the pastor always knew how to drag me kicking and screaming out of feeling bad. “Okay okay I get it! Thinking isn't bad, But that hasn't exactly stopped everyone around the stable from treating me like a creep. I think even Pickle-Jar is getting fed up.”

“So that’s what's got you down this time?” he asked like it wasnt the umteenth time I’ve been in here for that exact reason.

I could only nod as I laid there slumped in the chair. I could still hear Pickle-jar’s voice in the back of my mind. Pervert… pervert… pervert…

“And?...”

I blinked and looked up at him. “And? What do you mean ‘and’?”

“Sketchy, if you were in here every single time someone around the stable called you a pervert under their breath I would have set up a little cot over in the corner so you wouldn't have to walk all the way up from your room,” he chuckled “Now what's the second thing?”

I facehoofed “Fuck your not wrong…”

“Language sketchy~ Place of worship, remember?” His smile coy and his tone coyer.

“Shit!” It was a reflex.

“Sketchy…”

“Luna Damn it! Ahh!!” The reflex was too much, I grabbed one of the worn little pillows from the end of the pew and just screamed into it for a good few seconds.

“You get it out of your system?” he asked, sounding just a wee bit concerned before I put a hoof up to his muzzle to silence him for a moment… took a breath, and resumed screaming into the pillow for a few more seconds.

Bringing my hoof down and my head up from the pillow “Yes…”

“I see your language is still as colorful as your overactive imagination.” he sighed, sinking down in the pew just like me. “Just like you mother… heh~ Colorful didn’t begin to describe her or you now that I think about it.”

“Yeah, but I doubt she had some of the worst events in her life flashing before her eyes over and over again at the drop of a brush.” yep there went my mood again.

“Was it the kindergarten thing or your face getting bashed in again?”

“Both…”

“Ohh that explains why you're here. I’d say those were years and years ago, but we've already had that conversation haven't we?” he rubbed his graying chin with a hoof in thought peering off into an endless distance looking at the mural of the princesses.

“Yeah we have…” I answered looking at the cracks in the floor tiles, those would never get replaced, it was like they aged before my very eyes.

“You know - your mother.” he comed a hoof through his thinning mane. “I think the difference between you and her, was that she was willing to kick the ass of anyone who messed with her, even if it was the overmare.”

I perked up a little. “Mom kicked the overmare’s ass? Wait… Didn't you just say something about language in a place of worship?”

“Yes, yes she did and yes I did. However it’s my chapel and I'm the pastor so I get a free pass for ‘ass’, ‘damn’, and on occasion ‘son of a mule’ in particular.” he said quite proudly, folding his own hooves.

“Ughh…so Mom kicked the ever loving shit out of the overmare?”

“Language~”

“But you just said!-”

“Ass, Damn, and Mule.” I swear he was doing this on purpose.

“Wh- These rules are dumb!!” I pulled at the oranges of my scraggly mane, nearly ripping some hues out.

“Now you're catching on!”

“Just tell me why and how Mom kicked the overmare’s ass! I came here to feel better about ponies calling me a pervert all the time and flashbacks of them beating me up, not about swearing like a rock breaker techie.” I huffed facing him now, hooves on my hips, glaring.

“Ohh I see you got your fire back. Well if you must know, give me a moment to recall~” I could tell he was feigning thinking about it as he stroked that little beard he had going on. Only when I started to squint at him and lean in did he finally cave. “Oh it was over something silly. I think it was over a buck. An outrageously handsome, humble, and faithful buck I wouldn’t know anything about. Sounds backwards I know, it’s usually the bucks brawling over the pretty mare.”

Mildly sexist stereotypes aside I hadn’t been expecting an answer so… simple? Mundane? Not something like hosting a massive party or stealing the overmare’s keys? “Over a buck?… She kicked overmare ass over some buck?”

His smiling nod was the only confirmation I was going to get from him. “And a second time when your mother hijacked the intercom system, stole the last of the spray-paint from storage, and went to town on all the hallways. Took 3 security ponies to take her down, but not before she wrote ‘Bitchy Blueburst’ in big red letters all over the overmare’s observation window.'' He had his hooves in front of him spreading apart to emphasize the size of the letters.

“Language!” I jabbed him with my own hoof this time.

“Hah fair~” he chuckled and wheezed, batting my objecting hoof away. “Almost nothing could stop that mare when she was on one of her tears. They made her stay in the security cell until the overmare got her teeth put back in.” he leaned in a little “She waited to get her teeth back in~” he smirked sitting back and I could just imagine a younger overmare being so spiteful as to not get her teeth put back in just to keep mom in a cell. “Think of it like this - your mother was a terror of color, ideas, and visions and it took an act of Discord to finally put her down. No buck or mare could keep her down, but all it took was one rusty pipe under too much pressure and she was gone, just gone.” the color seemed to drain from his eyes a little along with the energy in his face.

“Feels weird that we're the only ones who talk about her…” I added looking down to my hooves nearly reaching the floor.

“Nopony really talks about what's gone around here anymore… it's sad, but there are more important things to worry about it seems.” He took a deep breath and sighs, so did I… and we kindof just sat there in the silence of the chapel for a few long moments looking up at the ceiling. “You feel better?” he asked, not looking down as his stare went to and beyond the faded mural above the altar.

“Yeah actually…” I answered, scratching my mane with a hoof as I looked up where he seemed to be staring.

“Do you feel like kicking the ass of the next pony who gives you a hard time?”

“A little…” I could admit.

“Are you going to?”

“Do you want the correct answer or the honest answer?” I asked, it made quite the difference.

“House of worship, remember? Best not to lie here. Princesses might scold you like a filly after you die~” he nudged me and I could just sense the smile he was wearing.

“Well under penalty of getting spanked in the Everafter… maybe~ I’ll try not to get all my legs broken.” I answered looking up to the Celestia half of the mural followed by a little flash in my mind of swinging a hoof on Tulip so hard it knocked her teeth across the tiled floor of the cafe in a nice little fan splatter. I shivered, blinking and shaking my head a little, that was getting too real.

“See something you didn’t like?” he asked, a peppered eyebrow raising, an actually faint note of concern in his voice.

“No, just something I don't think I’d ever do, or at least shouldn’t” I hopped up from the pew finally getting back on all fours. All that slouching was starting to make my back hurt.

“Oh~ On the subject of things you're not going to do, I got something for you!” he got up as well and started digging around into his stable-suit pockets while I turned to face him.

“You got me something? Like… what?” Well I had to admit my interest peaked. Nopony ever got me anything more than a few sheets of scrap paper. In his teeth though he handed a small orange square. “Is this a holotape?” I’d actually only ever seen them in textbooks, I think Miss Appleboom had one to show us pictures her great great grandparents took before the great war trapped us in the stable.

“Sure is. Read the label,” he said as I took the tape in my horn’s magic.

“Princesses in the sky… By Norbuck Greenbean?” I read aloud, but I had no idea what those little squiggly symbols were at the end of the name. Looked a bit like a flagpole sticking out of a rock.

“It’s a pre-war song, you can play it in your pipbuck. I used to play it all the time here in the chapel before the overmare ordered the speakers recycled.”

“Okay but, why? Wouldn’t you want to listen to it?” I had to ask, I could feel the weight of time suddenly being added to the tape I was hovering… that was just my mind being overdramatic right?

He gave my mane a pat before answering “Oh I don’t need it anymore. I’ve heard it so many times since I was a choir colt I could sing it myself verbatim if I really wanted to. Plus I can feel something is going to change around here soon enough and I think it would be best in your hooves. I just ask that you don't listen to it until the moment feels just right.”

“You… don’t want me to listen to it?”

“Not yet no, You’ll know the moment you’ll need to slip it into your pipbuck soon enough.”

“How?” I just had to ask, letting the question hang in the air, I was pretty sure the curiosity was going to kill me with him being this mysterious about it.

“You’ll know. Maybe it’ll be when you meet your special somepony, maybe on your birthday, maybe when your first foal is born, Only the princesses will know until you do.” he answered, shrugging yet smiling.

“Riiight…” I said skeptically slowly putting the holotape into one of my jumpsuit pockets. I'm going to have to try REALLY hard not to think about it. I took a step towards the door of the chapel. “Well thank you for the erm… holotape.. And the story, and the moral support… and everything else Father Thumper.” I smiled meekly trying to do the whole thankful thing properly.

“You know I have no issue with you calling me dad right?” he asked, watching me head for the chapel door.

“I know, it’s just… well… Calling the stable pastor who’s four times older than you daddy might really give off the wrong messages to ponies?” I chuckled nervously tapping my forehooves together a little “I mean… the age gap between you and mom was kindof a whole thing before I was born.” I tried to shrug and smile hoping he understood just how weird it would look, ponies already thought I was a pervy creep.

“True, but I dont think calling me dad at least once would be so bad right? Are you really going to leave your old buck hanging?” his smile small as he nudged me towards the door with a hoof.

I started walking faster “Fiiine. Bye Daaaad.” I said over her shoulder as I trotted out of the chapel leaving him to whatever productive thing he does all day… right into a big wall of muscle that knocked me back onto my haunches. Before my eyes was a pale brown coated chest and slowly turning my head up to see its owner was a certain swol bronze buck I had known since kindergarten. “Eep!” escaped my muzzle as I scooted back getting onto my hooves again. “O-Oh hey Bronze. I didn't see you standing there being all big and… buff and… please don’t step on me.” I meeped all the social stress I had just vented in the chapel was creeping back up my spine with a vengeance.

He snorted deep and I could swear the air wavered any time he exhaled. “Sketchy, you didn’t happen to be cleaning down on the lower levels this shift were you?”

Ahh shit he must have heard me! But why is this marbled slab of stallion before me asking me that- oh fuuuck he really broke rock breaker 6 didn’t he?! Ahhh!! “Oh I umm, no not really I was uhh.. Cleaning the other floor, and the mares bathroom and erm… yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow and lowered his head down closer to my level. “Really? I guess it was somepony else doodling all over the window to my mom's old classroom like a little vandal?” Oh sweet Celestia, that bedrock deep voice would be so hot right now if he didn’t also sound pissed. Focus brain! He was in the middle of calling you out.

“I mean… a-anybody could have done that really, dust is everywhere you know. Full time job and all that..yeah..” I forced a smile just trying to seem more convincing in the slightest

“Nah I'm pretty sure it was you, ya got where her desk was right and everything.” he glared, those dreamily burning eyes boring into mine that couldn't maintain eye contact for longer than a second as I shrank down. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t hear anything weird is all… machinery around here has been making all kinds of strange sounds lately. Ya get me?”

He was actually trying to intimidate me, the janitor, into not saying anything about him slagging a rock breaker. Sure he looked about as strong as the bronze ingot on his flank… which means he could probably split me- no! Bad brain! Ahem, break me in half, and then a few more halves. “Well I don't think so I just-... I just clean around here Bronze. I don't know weird mechanical sounds… Th-that's maintenance's job.” was the best answer I could give in the face of a towering buck. Don’t look down, he’s gonna call you a creep if you look down at his massive- Fuck I looked down! I smiled sheepishly as I could feel a faint amount of color coming to my cheeks.

He was none too pleased, scoffing as he looked down at me. “Oh good, Nothing to worry about at all. Now skitter off to wherever pervy little creeps like you hide while people do actual work.”

Didn’t I just have a whole heart to heart moment with my dad about how my mom didn’t take shit from anypony? How I was so much like her? I didn’t like this… I really didn't like this. My heart didn’t like this, and this weird pressure building behind my eyes didn't like this either. I felt my face twisting into a glare and my jaw wanted to tighten. It was like something was building up in me… and for the love of Celestia it felt a little like nausea and something more. I didn’t know how to fight it and eventually I just felt something give. “You know what Bronze…”

He had just been about to step away when I finally got up off my haunches. “Hmm? What? You're not gonna ask me to plow you are-”

“...ffffFUUUUCK YOU Bronze!” I roared, turning the head of nearly every pony in the atrium including dad’s, the mares at the cafe, and Bronze who could not look more taken aback that this tiny perv mare was yelling at him.

“What did you just-” he started but this welling in me wouldn't let him continue.

“Fuck you Bronze! Fuck you! Fuck your massive dick! Fuck the machine you broke down in the mines! I am tired of both you and everypony else’s shit! I bust my ass too much trying to scrape rust off of floors nobody walks on anymore and I have no more mental capacity to spare for you!!” I jabbed a hoof into his massive chest with every angry point I made. “You broke a rock breaker! So what!? I don’t give a pegasus flying fuck!! If you're angry go take it out on somepony else you overgrown colt! Hell! Go fuck Tulip on her dad’s bed again! Her spoiled jealous ass probably needs it!”

A certain pink mare over in the cafe spewed her drink all over the table she was sitting at and was getting looks from everypony around. Along with what sounded like a distant older buck yelling “He What!?”

“By Celestia’s titanic tits her cutie mark is a fucking flower! A flower! We don’t grow flowers down here! And she was a blank-flank till highschool! Take a hint you dense mare fucking jackass!!” the words practically said themselves as I just walked around him with the loudest huff I’ve ever made. “All of you can sit on Luna’s throbbing black horn and SPIN!!” There was a mix of murmurs from the atrium behind me as I went down the hall towards my room. I was three different kinds of done with today.

“Was that Sketchy?” were the last coherent words I heard leaving the scene. Anypony who wanted to complain needed to find me first, at which point I would tell them to bite my pencil lead gray ass!

The first thing I did upon entering my room just past water recycling was grab the tiny bin I kept in the corner. Then spent what felt like the next hour spewing everything I had eaten in the past twenty four. Sweet Celestia this is awful! I knew it was nausea! I don’t even remember eating some of these colors, or where that last bit about Tulip even came from. My gut just kept heaving and retching till my pipbuck told me today’s shift was over with a little bell chime. I never knew I could feel so tired so fast, maybe spewing all the physical and emotional bile you have in your system at once might be going a bit overboard for any pony.

With a little bit of coughing and a now overwhelming sense of emptiness inside I limped over to my withered frame of a bed pressed into the corner. Not the nicest corner of the stable ,but it was the one place I could flop without judgment… and so I did! The creak of century old springs met my ears as I groaned and rolled onto my back staring up at the ceiling. My eyes drawn past the sketches I had plastered the ceiling with to the occasional flickering of one of the two lights I had in here. The mix of absolute hunger and absolute revulsion towards food was certainly a new feeling to experience, really taking away from the mild joy I got from being surrounded by my stuff.

Very little space in the small room wasn’t plastered in layer after layer of my creations. Salvaged magazine pages, recycled paper, faded textbook pages, Hell even decades old receipts from back when the stable store was still allowed to use them. All of it covered end to end in years of my charcoal drawings, they didn’t hide just the wall though. The gentle breeze from the air vents occasionally made one of the surface pages flip and show where I stashed copious amounts of flank drawings, cutouts of ancient Wingboner magazines somepony smuggled into the stable before the great war, and lots of other less wholesome depictions I…*ahem* artistically crafted in the countless hours I had alone between shifts. I wouldn't say I was very good at it… even if the one I made for Pickle-Jar as a birthday present got the usual flat faced reaction she always had. ‘Impressive… but please keep it.’ was possibly the best and only praise I got from somepony who wasn’t Miss Appleboom or dad… and it's hard to believe someone whose job it is to be nice to you. Or is that just me?

There came a familiar chittering, from the air vent down under my little desk in the other corner. They must be hungry already. “I hear you… just give me a moment guys, I can feel my guts at the moment.” I groaned while still laying there, like hell I was going to get up right now, so I poured my focus into my horn. There was more chittering and the tap of a tiny leg on sheet metal. “Calm doooown I’m getting iiiiit.” I knew the drill, first unscrew the grate over the vent, then take the two lumpy brown apples I pocketed from the cafe trash during breakfast, and pull out the little tray I made for the ventilation locals. “You know what…I think I got you guys something special today.” great chance to deal with two problems at once. I tossed the apples into the little waste bin of bile and slid the whole thing into the vent. I could guess by the chittering they were happy to be getting several times more food than usual today. “Your welcome~” I sighed, screwing the grate back on. Don't want to risk them coming in here and eating all the paper.

The chitters and the skitters briefly grew in intensity before fading off down the vents away from my room. “Take care of the radroach problem overmare said. You're the janitor she said. Give me something to use as poison I said. That would be wasteful, she said. Just smash 'em she said.” I rolled my eyes and remembered that whole one sided conversation. Well guess what overmare, turns out if you just feed the little guys they stay out of pony’s rooms and the kitchen. Who knew? I knew. Plus has anypony seen the size of those things? Hitting them with a broom would just piss them off and I don't feel like getting swarmed by radroaches. At least I got a little symbiosis going on here.

I rolled onto my side so I could see a little bit better and got my horn glowing again. The apple stems were usually the only thing they left behind after eating and I had a little collection going. Scooping the little pile of stems up in my telekinesis I compressed them into a little ball, it looked like I had enough. Now for the hard part, I focused. I added as much pressure to the little ball as I could while still having enough focus left for a second little spell. A small stream of smoke began seeping from the ball of stems and I kept it up till I could see the glow of embers from within. And now to maintain pressure…

“Cmoooon… cook you.” I strained as slowly, but surely the stems were reduced to ash and coals in the tray down below. Finally able to let go of the compressed ball I shook the pan a little trying to separate the tiny coals from the ash. Magically scooped up as many of the tiny black rocks as I could into a new floating ball and began crushing them the best I could with my magic. Rolling and squeezing till they were as fine a powder as I could manage. Mixed in a little rust powder for coloration and filler… aaand lastly add a few drops of water from the trusty canteen on my desk, a single drip of wonderglue, and press the whole blackish-brown glob into the shape of a tiny stick. I had to wipe the sweat from my brow by the time I was done but after two plus weeks of feeding the radroaches I now had a new 1.5 inch charcoal stick. Huh, who knew hobbies could take your mind off how much things suck… Oh wait I did.

The foundation of only one of my only two hobbies aside, I don't think I can bring myself to start drawing right now… much less did I actually have anything to draw on. The walls and floors of maintenance were tempting, but the head techpony got pissy the last time I did that. Screw it, I’m gonna pass out. Just roll over and stare at this wall till…

Things were dark not necessarily in the absence of light sense, more in that everything around me looked as though it were hand drawn on old paper, overshaded and perpetually twisting and crinkling, yet I could still see everything. I’d kill a mare for this much paper. The halls, the walls, doors, and sketchily drawn words are all charcoal. I wasn’t in control, I was just along for the ride in a body that felt just like my own. Things moved like I was only ever catching every half second as I walked alone down a hallway. Everything sounded normal, the thunk of hoof on metal from below even if the floor seemed to be made of paper. I walked..and walked… rounding corners that didn’t really line up with my mental map of stable 83. Eventually I, or at least I think this was me, walked up to a wall as if finally noticing it was made of paper and pressed a hoof to it. When it crinkled and gave way to the hoof I pushed harder, the paper tearing and in a blink I was somewhere else.

Tile floor, sinks, mirrors, stalls, all made of sketched paper, but this was still the mare’s bathroom on the main floor. Was I… smaller? I don't remember the sinks being that high- aaand that was a stall door in my face! The pain shooting up my nose and the sound of my glasses shattering lasted only briefly before it came again and again. I didn’t count how many times the sudden pain happened, how many times I heard the crunch, the thump of impact. I had raised my hooves to try and stop it, but then I was on the ground, hooves on my snoot, the sketchy monochromatic world a blur without my glasses. All I could see were the outlines of my hooves holding my muzzle. I was on my side curled up barely able to see past the tears, the blank flanked mare coming out from behind the door, or the slowly growing pool of black under my head.

“Pickle-Jar’s ass in mine you early blooming creep!” the words distorted, but echoing from the standing mare. Something was missing though, not the color from everything, not her cutie mark, or the sound of me sobbing… ahh there it was! The hoof to the gut and one between the hinds before she stormed off leaving me there in the puddle of my own tears, blood, and broken glass. That was about how it went. Maybe that part about her spitting on me before she went was a part I made up just to make it worse. Either way this was pain-

My eyes opened and my ears perked as there was a knock on my door. The only logical reaction I could have after a wonderful dream such as that was to squeak and flail in panic till I fell out of my bed in a pile of old sheets. One thump and some hastily escaped sheets later there was another knock. Bronze had probably come to kick my ass after everything I said in the atrium! Or worse beat me up and fuck me sidew- Ahh! Brain you’re not helping!! What if it'sTulip?! Why did you make me go and yell all those things brain?! I hovered over the little desk lamp I had, keeping it up high in the event I needed to bash a pony over the head and run. So much pain could be on the other side of the door, I hesitated, my hoof shook as I reached for it.

“Sketchy…” was the first thing I heard from the ever present resting-bitch-face of Pickle-Jar. Standing there with that gorgeous emerald mane and perfect white coat she's had since playing with stone blocks in pre-k.

“Oh Pickle-Jar… it’s just you.” I said feeling at least half the mounting fear draining out of me.

“You're not going to hit me with that are you?” she asked, I could see her looking up at the floating lamp behind me. Which I immediately tossed somewhere out of view.

“What? Nooo I’d never…do… why are you down here?” I tilted my head a bit now that I realized it was Pickle of all mares who came down to the butt end of maintenance housing just to see me. I was still half hiding behind the door when she poked me in the chest with a hoof. Sweet Celestia she was touching me- Stop it brain!

“I'm here cause it seems like you finally split your bit.” she started doing a little jab with her hoof.

“It wasn’t that bad…I-”

“You basically told Bronze off in front of everypony and announced to the whole stable he broke a piece of priceless machinery. Before he could even cover the situation up and get it fixed without being reprimanded.”

“Okay maybe it was that bad-” I started but she continued.

“You also basically proclaimed to the whole stable that Tulip-Patch was not only a raging slut who’s cutiemark was her talent for getting bucked raw, but that Bronze was the one fucking her the hardest.” Princesses even her tone had a resting bitch face…

“I may have gone a little overboard-”

“On her dad’s bed…”

“Alright I get it!” I threw my forehooves up in the air in defeat. “I let my mouth get bigger than my ass! I messed up! Now they have legitimate reasons to hate me! Hell they’ll probably kill me and throw me in the metal reclaimer for good measure! Then turn me into serving trays which they will defecate on repeatedly!”

“Well they are really upset with you, like even more so than when you got me that Hearts and Hooves day card that said I had the best flank in the stable.”

“Ohh that's pretty mad…” I shrank. “Why do ponies keep getting pissed when I tell the truth?” I paced what little room I had, trying to formulate a way out of this, where in the stable I could hide on my shifts so I could avoid them for a good month or two so they could get over it. “Waaait why are you telling me all this? I thought you hated me too.”

She sighed “I don’t hate you sketchy, I wouldn’t be here if I hated you. I’m just one of the few mares that grasps why you are the way you are.”

I blinked stopping mid pace to look at her. “You do?...” These were not the words I thought I'd ever hear in my life.

“Yeah, everypony picked on you for getting your cutie mark years ahead of everyone else. Everypony thought you cheated till everypony else got theirs and realized there really wasn't a way to cheat getting a mark at all. But it was already too late, you were ostracized so long the damage to your social development was already done.”

I was starting to notice my jaw hanging there like the cafe sign. I was not expecting an out of nowhere psycho analysis in the doorway of my room tonight. “But I…”

“Turned to the only thing most teenage mares can do in their free time when they have no friends.”

“Artistic expression?” I smiled sheepishly.

“If you consider jacking off a form of artistic expression then sure, you turned to ‘artistic expression’ as one of the only sources of joy in your life.”

I… felt my face start to burn up, the heat in my ears was real too. “I-I have noooo idea what youre talking about heh… I mean that crazy talk, Iil wholesome ole me minding her own business? I wouldn’t do…that...” lying so hard it would make dad’s ears itch.

“Sketchy, sweetie… I can see the Wingboner and Playmare magazine cutouts on your wall from here.”

“Ahh! Don't look at those! They aren't mine!” I squeaked and flailed trying to get my hooves, my body, anything over the part of the wall I stashed all those vintage beauties.

“Yes… yes they are Sketchy” she sighed “and I don’t care that you have them or that your barn door swings both ways. Everypony’s known that since you gave me that pinup you drew for my birthday… of me… infront of everypony attending.”

I really wanted to hide under my bed at that point…

“You turned to porn as your lonely ass coping mechanism cause it was the last ‘social’ thing that hasn't been ruined for you like everything else has. Bonus points for you cause you could actually use your talent to facilitate it." She made a slow sweeping gesture to the rest of my room which was adorned with all kinds of evidence to prove her point.

“Could we please swap to just hitting me rather than emotionally disassembling me?” I asked weakly, feeling smaller and smaller because at this point getting hit in the face started to seem a lot more appealing than being psychologically deconstructed in my doorway like a broken water pump.

“No.” she answered flatly, giving me another prod “Cause this takes me to my point. I understand why you're a dirty minded recluse… and I don't blame you for it.”

“You… you don’t?” How… how could she not blame me for it?

“Not in the slightest. My only complaint is how big you draw my flank in your pictures and how often you stare at it. I get it, you have a thing for mares with big manes and flanks to spank. I just have to remind myself why you’re like this every time you get a nosebleed watching me walk away.” she rolled her eyes “First it was weird, then it was flattering, and now I just don’t care anymore… are… are you crying?” she asked, raising a brow.

“N-No..” I snuffled, lying more to myself than her, vision growing cloudy, as I was torn between smiling and tears. There was actually somepony in stable 83 that didn't hate me? Other than dad?

“A bad liar and an ugly crier… great. Calm down, you're starting to snot up-” she stopped when I sniffed hard and reflexively wiped my nose off on my hoof. “Eww…” she shivered.

I sniffed again. “You know… if you can break people down this much on the fly, why is your cutie mark a pickle jar and not like a tweed couch or a brain or something?”

She actually groaned for once and I could swear her face even shifted a little towards an active frown. “Cause mom wanted to guarantee me a job outside the mines when I was born. So she named me Pickle-jar to steer whatever talent I got towards cooking. Even if it sounded like a colt’s name. I probably would be the stable therapist if she had named me something like Nut-Case or Happy-Pills.”

Okay that one was a little funny cause it was a little true. “I mean, mine named me Sketchy. I was probably destined to draw or become a chem dealer.” Celestia's overflowing harem was that-, it couldn't be!?, the faintest shreds of a smile on Pickle’s face?! And she was capable of making a funny? The world had to be ending again.

“That aside though I didn’t come all the way down here just to give you a psychological breakdown.” just as quickly as it got here the ghost of a smile was gone.

“Was it to give me your secret pickle recipe?” I had to ask with the biggest smile I could manage… It was the only secret in the stable more closely guarded than the overmare’s terminal password.

She stood there in pause for a long moment just staring at me. “Sketchy, I’d fuck you before I ever gave you my pickle recipe.” my heart stopped. Did… did she really just say that? There was a chance?! “And I mean hard, like I’d let your wildest perverted dreams come true hard. I’d tie Tulip up in the corner to make her watch Bronze put a foal in me again and again before I would ever EVER, let you read my pickle recipe. That is what happens in one of your little smut stories right?” her expression got softer for once like her body was trying to remember what the face of someone teasing looked like. More importantly, how did she know about those?!

My face was very red and my nose was very much bleeding. My jaw was just hanging as my heart felt like it refused to pump blood anywhere but out of my body. Was it what she said? Was it how she said it so straight faced like the subject was nothing? Hello darkness at the edge of my vision, it's so nice to see old friends~Weee~

“Sketchy, are you okay?” was the last thing I heard before I blinked and found myself looking up at the ceiling of the room again, though now there was a Pickle-Jar standing over me looking somewhere between pretty and concerned. “Oh good you're awake, I was about to drag you to medical.”

I just laid there looking up at her while my vision flickers between her being one of my sketches on the ceiling or the real her. A few more blinks though and I was able to tell the two apart. “What… what happened.” I groaned not wanting to get up.

“You popped off like a champagne bottle and passed out in seconds. I probably shouldn't have said something so dirty around someone with your… ” I could see her searching mentally searching for the least offensive way to say it “Sensibilities and imagination.” she finished, stepping aside so that I had room to get up before offering me my glasses, must have fallen off. “Probably saw it in more detail than I did.”

It took a moment, but I was able to roll onto my front only feeling a little light headed. “Maybe a little.” I admitted, hovering my glasses back on, I don't think I had enough blood left to go to my face for saying so.

“Look, before you go passing out again, the second thing I came here to tell you, yeah, Bronze and Tulip are pissed and they want to and I quote ‘squish you like the radroach you are’ tomorrow. So I'd suggest you figure out what you're going to do, cause if they spot you at breakfast Tulip-Patch will try to rearrange your face again.”

“Awww fuuuck! Why meeeeee!?!” I groaned/whined down on the floor trying real hard not to imagine Bronze and Tulip curb stomping on me. I knew ‘why me’ but I wanted to say it anyway.

“I’ve been asking that question since kindergarten Sketchy. Also they want to trash your room too. Insult to injury kind of thing.” She looked about the room covered in papers and sparse furniture. “My suggestion, take some time to stash all the stuff you actually care about in someplace you think is safe. Leave a few decoy items in here you really don't care about. Some jumpsuits that aren't your size anymore, some of the paper you never used for full blown drawings, some of your sketching supplies… just enough that they won’t think you knew they were coming.”

I looked around the room too at all my stuff… and they wanted to destroy it? These were all I had, everything I ever made. “I know some places they’d be safe… just...”

“Don't like the idea there are ponies out there wanting to defile your little fortress of porn and solitude?”

“Yeah! Hey wait a minute, it’s not just porn!” my indignation returning with my consciousness.

“Whatever helps you sleep through the off shift Sketchy. I’m going to bed before they catch me down here with you. You should probably sleep too. You’ve got a VERY long day and potential ass kicking ahead of you tomorrow.” she turned to start going when she looked back over her shoulder. “I know you're going to stare, and I'll let it slide this one time so long as you don't bleed out in there.” and so she went.

I blinked to process what she just said about staring and once it finally hit me, never before have I wanted to go back in time so hard just so I could knock the designer of these stables upside the head. How could they not make the one hall outside my room in particular as long as physically possible?! I don’t know if it was real life slow motion or she did it intentionally ,but my hoof slammed down on my pipbuck’s SATS just so I could get every last princess blessed millisecond. That strut, that sway in her flank, the way her mane bobbed with every step. Thank sweet Celestia I drew all those smutty pin-ups for that one techie to crack the civilian restrictions on my pipbuck. I’m not sure if it was the SATS but she was princesses damned sparkling as she went! She rounded the corner at the end of the hall looking back at me and I swear to Luna I think I saw her smiling back at the idiot sitting there on her haunches looking like a red faced dumbass. Then… she was gone, and the world just seemed to grow darker in her absence. SATS dropped and I just sat there, and could feel the dumb smile on my face. I had to thump my hoof on my chest to get my heart going again though, or at least feel it beating again. “Bye~” I giggled and I didn’t know why, I didn't care either, hahaaa! The prettiest mare in the stable smiled at me! I could only hope Pickle didn’t hear the glasses wearing mare she left behind jumping in place and squeeing her heart out.

One small part of my life feeling complete aside I knew exactly where to stash all my stuff. By the time I was done I had several folded jumpsuits, Most of my wall papers in an orderly stack thicker than one of my wrist. Most of my sketching supplies stashed in the pockets, and as for dad's holo-tape? Stashed in the only place more unthinkable to look than anywhere else! In the holotape player in my pipbuck. After all, not even a rock crusher can break a pipbuck… without help anyways. Should have made the stable out of these things now that I think about it.

All my valued worldly possessions organized down into a pile this small was a bit, well… depressing. But I was still too high on a pretty mare smiling for once in her life to care! All of it would be safely stored behind a panel in the back of the janitor's closet next to my room. It's not a vent or anything, just a little void space between the walls that had a panel I could pop off if I pushed up on it. Would make for one hell of a smuggler stash now that I’m using it for exactlly that. Oh well, good thing I’m an artist and not a chem dealer!

The sight of my room though, that's what hurt the most so far. I had forgotten what color the walls were, it was the same of white as the rest of the stable just with significantly more chipping and rust that I’d covered up. All that was left were a couple dozen scratch papers gently fluttering on the walls, a few pieces of my more worn down charcoal sticks, the shattered remains of a pencil down to the nub, three jumpsuits hanging from a rack that haven’t fit since highschool and my bare sheetless bed. The only thing left in here I could care about was the mattress, the only mattress I had ever known in all its dingey glory. This mattress had taken me from bed wetting filly, past horny cry baby teenager, all the way to horny young adult with social anxiety… precious times. Figured I’d have my first time on it too, but like hell that's ever gonna happen right? It was MY mattress… Yeah Bronze and Tulup were probably going to fuck it up, and getting it repaired or replaced would be at the bottom of everyones to-do list, but what could I do? Now all that was left to do was flop face down in bed and try to drown in all the super inappropriate things I was going to do to dreamland Pickle-Jar. This is gonna be-

“Good morning Stable 83! This is your dutiful overmare BlueBurst and today we have some special announcements!” came over the stable intercom the INSTANT my eyes closed. My pipbuck shift alarm was beeping that horrible horrible beep that had ingrained pain reflexes into every generation of pony forced to wake up rested or not.

My eyes shot open with the same force as if someone had smashed a bottle over my head and hopes within. My face is half buried in the bare mattress. “You sick evil bastard… You cheated me… why brain? I trusted you with this one precious thing. This one sacred task of letting me lucid dream spanking flanks with dream Pickle… And you give me the instant tomorrow treatment?!” I despaired feeling my soul drain out, replaced by the spirit of rage. “I’m gonna fucking kill you brain. The instant I figure out how I’m gonna drag you to the lowest circles of hell!” I glared death into the oblivion of fabric before my eyes hoping that the pink organ that hit the fast forward button knew I was coming for him! Never before have I wished such violence upon the cartoonish personification of one of my organs! I’d strangle him!!

“I’d wish everypony a wonderful and productive shift on yet another beautiful day in stable 83 Buuut today's announcements are a bit speciaaal! I know it was another long and productive shift for the night crew, but we need everypony awake for the good news!” the overmare’s voice crackled away over the intercom.

I noticed how she didn't say ‘I need everypony awake’ like saying we instead of I made everypony less upset about being forced to stay awake… which sadly it did. The overmare was always doing little things like that. “Today is going to be weird isn't it?” I groaned using all my might to move one hind hoof off the bed and whether it made it to the floor or not I started to move the other, both becoming the heaviest limbs in the world at the moment.

“Thus to compensate for the loss of sleep time we have decided to make today just a little more special! Everypony gets the day off!” I could just barely hear the collective cheers from across all the stable above me, it just became a two day weekend. “Hurry along to breakfast now, my little ponies. We want you full, happy, and awake for the news! Oh and today's special is Pudddiiing! Courtesy of the reclamation team.” The overmare chimed to a smaller stable wide cheer before the crackle of the intercom being cut signaled the end of the announcements. Wow, the reclamation team managed to find a barrel of pudding in the abandoned sections? Someone must have stashed it decades ago.

I managed to flop my way out of the me-shaped indent in the mattress and onto the metal floor before getting up and hovering my glasses from my desk onto the bridge of my muzzle. Today was going to be, ughh… a day. Can’t hide in here, can’t hide in maint long enough for things to blow over, and like hell I could pretend like my outburst yesterday didn’t happen. Maybe… maybe I could apologize and talk my way out of them stomping my face in too hard. I paced knowing the clock was ticking down to the inevitable assault on my fortress of solitude, and I really did not want to be here defending it when the attack came. Okay, maybe, just maybe if I weep and grovel they might not hit me so hard… or kick me in the dock too many times. Sounds like a half reasonable plan. I just… gotta do it. I looked at the door knowing I wasn't going to come back through it anywhere near as in-tact as when I left. I don’t know how long I stood there as scenario after scenario of getting my ass kicked went through my mind, but soon I found myself closing the door behind me. Just think of what to say sketchy, act like it was just any other day, and when they confront you use every last ounce of my social skills to talk them down. I’m doomed.

Two flights of stairs later and I was back up on the main floor, a lot more crowded than usual, but everyone was getting the day off. Maybe a foal was just born? Maybe one of the overmare’s friends wanted to publicly propose to their special somepony again? Maybe we finally stuck a new ore vein after all these years. One thing was for sure, I was getting an increasing number of looks from across the atrium as I made my way over to the cafe. The area is another alcove off the atrium just like the chapel, though larger and more open concept lacking any kind of front wall or door. The red and white checkered tiles, four little red chairs to each of the dozen staggered tables. Ponies always made such a fuss over rearranging them every year. Even or odd, over here or over there. Light came from the much less moveable ceiling fans and the lights over the trays of bulk food prepared on the cafe counter. It was a pick what you want situation during official meal times, but you could cash in food tickets to have them make something specific for you during off hours. There were trays to take and slide along a little metal grid infront of all the serving bins, the only incentive not to stack your plate high was peer pressure from those behind you. There was the line and here was me standing in the back of it probably looking paranoid as can be. I had almost gotten to the trays when it happened. The sound of several ponies hoofsteps behind me.

“So you finally crawled out of your hole creep?” yep, that was Tulip-Patch sounding even more indignant than usual and If I guessed correctly the two other ponies with her were either her usual posse, her fuck buddies, or both. Probably both. The only mare I knew who could get a train run on her one night and then boss the same bucks around like she owned them the next.

I sighed knowing it was starting and stammered “M-Morning Tulip...” the words came so begrudgingly, even more so the effort to look back at her.

Yeah she looked pissed, like she was wondering just how she was going to try and beat me up again. Hopefully not too pissed to forget the only times she got away with it was during one of her little ambushes. “You sure you're a mare? Cause far as I can tell you either got balls bigger than any buck in the stable or you're as dumb as one coming out in the open like this. Especially after yesterday.” Of course she went insulting my maredom right off the bat.

“I wouldn't know Tulip, you're the stable’s resident expert on massive balls, you tell me?” I rebuked. Where the hell did that come from!? What happened to begging and groveling?! Why did I say that? The taken aback looks from the yellow unicorn buck to her left and blue mare to the right of the fuming pink earth pony gave away how weak they thought I was. Really made them think that the scrawny mare with glasses might actually have a spine.

Tulips cheeks got about as red as her mane and I thought I could see a vein in her temple twinge. “Oh you must really want me to rearrange your face again, creep.”

“N-no I just want to get breakfast like everypony else and e-enjoy my day off.” I glared back as I felt anger coming down from my head and fear welling up from my gut. I was mere feet away from pain.

I got a pink hoof firmly grabbing my shoulder. “You think you're ever going to eat here again? After what you said?” her tone said it all. They didn’t want to attack me infront of everypony. My eyes going from hers to the well saloned hoof.

She was touching me…

“Be grateful some of us are willing to let you eat whatever the radroaches do down in maint for the rest of your pathetic life.”

She’s touching me…

“Cause if we ever see you up here again your going ass first into the recycler, AFTER we break your pencil legs. Maybe then you’ll finally be useful.”

“Stop touching me…” I said meekly, nearly mumbling as all thoughts but her hoof on my shoulder faded into obscurity.

“What was that?” she smirked and leered, shaking me a little. “Couldn't hear you. I know that's how it’s supposed to be, but you don't have that old ass pastor’s wrinkly dick in your mouth at the moment.” pushing and pushing… was all she was ever good at.

“I said stop touching me…” I said a wee bit louder, my vision narrowing.

Now she was shoving with every sentence. “Wow, not even gonna deny it huh? Figured that's what you were doing every time you went into that chapel. Figured a freak like you could only ever get it on was with somepony who could’t any-” she wasn’t going to listen.

“Stop touching Meee!!” I finally screamed. My body twisting and whirling around putting all my momentum into my left forehoof. Tulip didn’t see it coming, she was still back on her insult being interrupted right before said hoof crashed across the side of her face. It felt like so much energy and anger welling into my chest, limbs, and face. Everything slowed down to a crawl. The force exerted both knocked my glasses off kilter and staggered the pink mare to the side. The eyes of everyone around widening as they started to back up from the scene if they hadn’t already when the confrontation started. The looks of shock like a balefire bomb had just appeared in the middle of the stable.

Things felt like they sped up just enough for a very astonished looking pink mare to sit back up looking at me like the impossible just happened… like I punched the bully out of her. “You… you fucking hit me?” her cheek looking scuffed as could be from blunt force and her groomed mane messed up a little. “You scrawny bitch… How could you-”

The answer to the question I could assume the rest of was answered with another hoof across her face followed by me tackling into her, well less tackle and more of a pounce. I don’t think ‘Aghhhh!!’ ever stopped being screamed as I laid over her slamming the same hoof into her face over and over again as hard as the fury would let me. I think by hit number five it got super predictable and there was a brief flash of pink. Cracks running up my left lens as I was knocked off of her and onto the floor. Why did my face hurt?

She was quick to get up, that was earth ponies for you I guess. “You've split your bit! Last straw, you're dead!” By the time I was getting up I was already getting another pink flash in the face followed by pain and the cracks growing. Glasses askew when I felt a hoof in the side knocking me over again, back first into a table this time. Chairs knocked out of the way and other pony’s breakfast spilled on the tile floor beyond.

After I was done coughing one hoof held the side of my face Tulip had been hitting. She looked like she was taking all my earlier hits better than I was taking just two. She approached, probably intent on stomping me till I stopped moving. My hooves slipped on the tile floor in my attempts to force myself up with speed. She was stronger sure, at least by comparison to how squishy I was. One thing I knew was that I was smarter than miss ‘get plowed by the only buck teacher in 83 for a C’ coming at me. Why did I remember that little tidbit now of all times? Focus brain! Everypony attending this thought bubble already knows she's an easy mare with a penchant for violence! She may be royally pissed at me, but her eyes were on my horn. Of course! She thought because I was squishy it meant I would rely on my magic more heavily. Assuming makes an ass of you and me after all and I intended to be quite the ass in the next few seconds.

She lunged the instant I made my horn glow with no spell in particular. “Oh no you don’t!” Tulip gave away exactly what I thought she would do, she didn't want me to focus on casting at all. Good thing that wasn't the plan! My right forehoof grabbed a nearby mug that'd already spilled its contents, and brought it across the other side of her face mid tackle. Never before has the metal thunk of stainless steel sounded that satisfying, especially compared to the usual ‘something important broke’ thunk we usually got down in maintenance. That felt… so goooood! I’d almost turn down actual sex to feel that again. I was learning all kinds of fun and new emotions today! Like how fury and bliss could drive a scrawny mare with busted glasses to try getting over Tulip again.

“What? Don’t like being the one getting your face smashed in for once?!” The mug was proving to be FAR more effective than my bare hooves. The sounds of everything else going on around me just blurred into the back of my rage fueled mind. I think some ponies were cheering, some pleading with us to stop, others calling for security, and a few betting meal tickets, I couldn’t think why. This was something personal, between me and Tulip, their voices didn’t need to be involved, all that mattered was the growing red smear on the mug. Just me and her… everything melting away as I just couldn’t stop… why did I need to stop? Things may have been growing increasingly surreal but I didn't care. The floor tiles below us were changing size and growing monochromatic, my hooves shrank a bit with every swing, Tulips semi mashed face shaving off a year with each swing.

“G-Get her off meee!!” I heard a cry from below but the echoing voice didn't sound like the filly that was currently under my tiny hooves. I got one more swing in sending blood and a few teeth spraying like a fan across the tile floor of the bathroom. That was when I felt the pair of hooves coming up into my gut pushing me off her, it hurt… alot, and I felt this all over urge to wretch, but my stomach had nothing left to give after last night. I was knocked back onto the bathroom floor, I felt my glasses come off and clatter across the floor sounding a whole lot more broken than before. Yet when I opened my eyes I could see the 1st floor mare’s bathroom clearly. The stalls, the mirrors, the sinks, all mostly spotless like usual if not in slightly more muted tones. Across from me was a pink filly looking about as beaten and battered as I felt moments ago. Her flank blank and spitting out a blotch of red onto the pristine floor as she looked at me with fear and fury. “You're gonna p-pay for this! Pickle’s ass is Mine!...mine…mine…” she stammered starting to come at me again, copies of the pink filly left in her wake.

I gritted my teeth and my horn glowed briefly for some reason as I reached for a stall door suddenly finding myself a lot closer. “You think I’m gonna let you rearrange my face again?!” I screamed, words echoing and devolving into a high pitch squeal like a microphone slightly too close to a speaker. Pushing my hoof as hard as possible to slam the stall door into her face knocking the little pink whore onto her back once again. “Do you?!” my mouth moved, it screamed, yet I heard nothing. “Never again! Never again! Never again!” I yelled over and over. I was on top of her again yet I don't remember moving. I felt faint pressures on my shoulders and sides, something, somepony pulling on me as I brought my forehooves held together down on her muzzle. I heard screams… they weren't mine. I think they were hers, but there was more than one. Yelling… somewhere far away. I brought my hooves down again except this time they were further apart with… a lunch tray? Held between them bringing the long blunt edge of pressed steel down across the bridge of her muzzle. “Never again!!” I didn't count how many times I heard the crunch, or the ping of metal impacting, or how far the red spread up the flat sides of the tray. Just the unending urge to scream alongside the others mixed in with the high pitch whining in my ears. Gravity seemed to stop, red drops rising from the floor as I began to feel myself float away, I didn’t question it, I could only swing the tray sideways one last time before she was out of reach, adding another layer to the fan splatter of red off to the side. Huh…the tray was gone, the bathroom around me was blurring away, the tiles on the floor started shifting back to the red and white checker pattern. The floor was a mess and I could feel my chest heaving, my legs were starting to shake, everything was hot yet I wanted to shiver like I was freezing. Things moved so slowly, even the beep from my pipbuck for when SATS was done recharging… When did I use SATS? Why were things moving? Was somepony dragging me? I looked up to see a hazy black buck and a pair of unicorn mares in security colored barding dragging me by the collar of my stable suit away from the cafe. Dad?

“Somepony get her to medical now!” I heard from somewhere, things were steadily speeding back up, and the tingle in my legs crawled up the rest of my body turning into lethargy and ache. I looked down to see a number of ponies running to a pale pink Tulip curled up on the ground in a pool of red, quivering, bawling, holding her muzzle while medical ponies gathered around.

“Daddy?... Wh-what happened?” I asked far weaker than I expected it to. I felt so tired… didn't I only wake up about an hour ago?

One unicorn blinked and looked at the older black buck and got out a ”She’s your-?”

“Not the time Lawshine!” he gruffed, sounding far more upset? Angry? In pain? I don’t think I ever heard him talk like that before.

Level Up!
Perk Unlocked: Surrealist’s Rage!
You've finally had enough of other ponies who don't understand you. Time to let a little contemporary surrealism play through you. Paint things red and strum new cords with instruments over heads. When below 20% health time slows and reality distorts. Your damage threshold increases by +20 and damage dealt by 20%.