Overture - A Fallout: Equestria Story

Chapter Three: Time Damage

"So I make a brand new life, fashioned out of brand new strife."

"Come on, you can't just hide in there forever." Make Do huffed from the other side of the door.

When I was growing up in Trottingham, my dad always tried to put me off drinking. His father had problems with alcohol and it really made an impact on my dad when he was younger. He loathed drinking, and he went ballistic the first I came home late, tipsy. He really doubled down on the anti-drink thing for a while after that, but he got more lenient seeing that it didn't stop me anyway, and that I wasn't coming home next-level plastered every night.

From then on I enjoyed a drink every now and then. Maybe more often than 'every now and then', truth be told. I liked a drink with friends, with dinner, maybe one or two after work to unwind. Maybe more than one or two. Anyway, my point being that I was more used to getting through the day with a throbbing headache and feeling like the room was spinning more often than I was proud to admit.

This was one of those times.

As it turned out Make Do actually had a pretty extensive alcohol cabinet in her workshop, and for the time being she was more than happy to ply me with whatever I felt like having. I don't know if she felt bad for me or was just keeping me occupied, but either way I didn't care too much. The end result was that I'd spent the last couple of days locked in the "bedroom' (I use the term loosely) attempting to drown my sorrows. I like to think I usually handle my drink well, but this was more than I'd had in a very, very long while.

I had everything I wanted for the time being. I'd liberated a bottle of rum, some vodka and a couple of other bottles I was pretty sure were gin from the cabinet. Make Do had shown me where the bathroom was after we got back from our walk the other day, she'd used her forge to dry us off and I'd managed to I step into a bucket that it turned out was the oil filled Slack Tub she used for metal forging. That made quite a mess of my coat, I had to rinse myself off in the sink.

Make Do had been leaving food by the door for me. I hadn't really been eating all that much though.

"Leave me alone." I mumbled back. I wanted to be by myself, to just wallow, to drown my feelings.

"It's been days, Silver, this isn't healthy." She pled. "I brought you some water."

It was not a surprise that I currently felt like absolute death. My fragile emotional state aside, my head felt like it was about to implode and my stomach was gurgling uncomfortably, and I was still a little bit drunk. Maybe more than a little bit. Enough for the room to feel like it was rolling around when I turned my head away from the light coming under the door.

I groaned and burped up a little bit of sick, pulling the sheets over my head. Water was probably a good idea, actually. "F-fine just... just close the door when you leave."

"Thank you."

The door squeaked as she pushed it open. Even under the sheet I could see everything get brighter. I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned. I heard the clanking of glass and the mare humming to herself.

"You alive under there?"

"Barely." I croaked back. "I feel sick."

"I'm not surprised, considering the amount of empty bottles in here." She scolded. "Look, far be it from me to tell you how to deal with this, but this isn't good for you."

Blinding light flooded my sense as she pulled the sheet back. I squinted up at her, vision blurry. "Wow, you look terrible." She said, practically dripping tact. I looked up at her as my eyes adjusted, she was wearing a tatty pair of overalls, and had oil smeared all over her face.

"You're one to talk-hughhh!" I heaved, thankfully managing to keep my stomach contents down. This time.

"This is exactly what I'm saying, you can't just drink your problems away, and I really don't need to be cleaning your vomit off the floor. I like a drink as much as anypony else but I don't have any meds for liver cirrhosis."

"Noted." I groaned, wishing she'd just leave so I could wallow in peace.

"I know we don't really know each other, but I've been where you are, I know how it feels. There's better-"

"How could you possibly know how it feels?" I spat, cutting her off, venom rising in my voice. She didn't get to pull that card, I'd not have any faux-empathy from anypony. "Everyone I've ever met is dead, don't you dare try and tell me you know what I'm going through. Don't pretend you've been in my horseshoes."

Her face twisted, an awkward silence hung in the air for a moment as she stared at me, glowering.

"Silver." She said tersely. I could tell she was trying to push back her own anger, there was a glint of something in her eyes. "You are not the only pony in the wasteland to have lost shit."

I blinked at her, I can't really say I was expecting that response. I was torn. Part of me knew that I'd clearly touched on a nerve here, but part of me also didn't care. Whatever she'd been through before this didn't really concern me, I was the one going through it right now, I was the one who was going through indescribable, crushing, devastating loss right now. I'd literally been permanently removed from my own life. All I wanted was to be left to rot. Like by all rights I apparently had been doing in the booth for decades.

"I know things are shitty, I know you're feeling isolated right now, but I am trying my best to help." Her gaze softened as she spoke, she took on an almost apologetic tone. "I'm sorry I was the one who had to break this all to you, but I've been where you're at, I do know how it feels, okay? You can come to me to talk or cry or whatever."

She was right. Things were awful and I was feeling very isolated right now, and I don't think having somepony I barely knew offering help was going to do much. It was a nice gesture, don't get me wrong, but I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this.

"Sure." I breathed, glancing down to the floor. There were two old but clean looking glass bottles filled with crystal clear water sat by the bedframe.

"Look, I've got to go out on a job later, you're welcome to join me if you'd like? Get you out of the house, maybe take your mind off things for a while?"

"No, thanks. I think I've gotten a pretty good hold on taking my mind off things..." That was sort of a lie, it was excruciatingly difficult to think about anything else, but I really didn't want to meet any more dangerous wildlife. That and I'm not 100% sure seeing the city again wouldn't just break me down further. Life from a window was fine for now, even if there wasn't much to look at.

"Okay." She replied, ears falling a little. "Well, I'll be in the workshop for a bit until I head out, if you'll be alright on your own?"

I nodded in response, slowly so as to not aggravate my headache too much. She nodded back and turned and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

I set back down and closed my eyes, they still stung from all the weeping and sobbing of the last couple of days. My head was throbbing so badly it felt like some kind of worm was wriggling around in my skull. I cringed a little thinking of that. I didn't know of any creature out there that did that, but I'd already been introduced to a couple of hideous animals in this new world, so who knows.

'New World' probably wasn't the right term. It was the same world just, well, obliterated. Along with everyone and everything I ever cared about.

Why was I even here? How did I come out of that spell? It didn't seem like anypony knew I was there, so how come I woke up? Why me and not Dandelion? Why now? Somehow I didn't think I'd get answers anytime soon. Maybe Make Do would know. Probably not.

She was graciously allowing me to stay in her... home, I guess. Keeping me fed and watered and nice and tipsy. I wondered if she just felt sorry for me. Probably.

I licked my lips. My mouth was very dry and tasted like stale vodka and regurgitated cake. Unpleasant. I stuck a hoof out and rummaged around for the water she'd left. I took the lid off the bottle and had a long sip. Despite the appearance of the bottle it was cool and fresh, which was most welcome since I was absolutely parched.

I ended up chugging the whole bottle in one go, which may not have been good from the not-vomiting point of view, but I was just so thirsty. My mouth at least was feeling a little more normal now. I pressed the cold glass bottle to my forehead, the sensation soothing the pain. I was content to just be still for a while, to try and get my body to settle down.

I was content to just lie there empty headed for a while. The radio occasionally crackled static on and off but otherwise the only sound was my own breathing at the window rattling in the breeze. I managed to drift off to sleep for a short while until the muffled sounds of clanking and buzzing started reverberating down the hall. Probably a good thing, I realised that if I didn't go to the toilet now then I'd definitely wet the bed, and I did not need that on top of everything else. I begrudgingly rolled myself upright, body protesting. I was swaying a bit, still a little bit drunk and exhausted. I lowered myself off the bed and stumbled out the door, leaning on walls for support a lot of the way. Navigating a building was much harder when it felt like the place was tumbling around, especially so when you weren't very familiar with the layout.

It wasn't a long walk by any means, only down the hallway, but the state I was in meant it felt much longer. I stumbled through the door, kicking it closed behind me with a slam that was far louder than I'd anticipated. The bathroom was as grungy as the rest of the building, rust and decay built up all over. Saying that, it wasn't necessarily dirty, so much as it was worn. Everything here looked less than ideal, but at least it was a bathroom to use. I just hoped everything looked this way from age and not, ahem, usage.

I set about doing my business. To give the mare credit, Make Do had somehow managed to procure toilet paper from somewhere. Was it still being made? There had to be some kind of industry of some sort by now, right? I mean, according to what Make Do said it'd been almost 200 years since-

Nope! Not thinking about it. Too heavy, don't need that right now.

I finished up and went to wash my hooves in the sink. The water didn't look as clean as the bottle water from earlier. It smelled funny too, but I thought it'd be alright enough to wet my hooves, I wasn't planning on drinking it. I looked up as I turned the water off, catching my reflection in a wall mirror above the basin.

I did look terrible. My eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by dark bags. My mane was all messed up, sticking out in strange ways. And I was covered in dirt, hell, there was even still blood on my face from the other day. That was gross. Disgusting actually, almost enough to turn my stomach again. That wasn't me, how did I let myself get this bad already?

I like to think that I took pride in my appearance, generally at least. We all had lazy days of course, but I'd never gotten to this point before. I hardly even looked like myself. I was sure I looked a few shades paler, even.

I hadn't noticed it until now, maybe it was the musty sheets or general state of the building, but I absolutely stank. I needed a shower.

There was a shower in here. It looked like it'd been pieced together from scrap. Really it was little more than a nozzle over a washtub with a plastic tarp hung around it as a makeshift curtain and a hole in the bottom to drain the water. It was obviously improvised, but it was better than nothing. A good wash would probably help me feel more like a pony and less like a shambling zombie.

I clambered into the tub. I was very confused when I realised that the shower head was actually coming out of the ceiling. I looked around, but there were no obvious controls for it anywhere. I must've stood there looking around exasperated for a good few minutes. Poking around the nozzle itself did nothing. The pipe it was attached to just went straight up into the roof. I didn't know if I was being blind or just stupid, but I couldn't for the life of me figure it out. I sighed and left the tub again, setting off to find Make Do.

I'd not had to ask anypony how to use a shower since I was, what, five years old? Not since I was a filly. It was embarrassing, it made me look like I didn't know how to take care of myself.

Make Do said she'd be in the workshop. I'd been in there after our journey out the other day, we'd used the heat from the furnace to dry off. I could already tell based on the metallic screeching alone that going into the room wouldn't be a very pleasant experience in my condition. I'd already pinned my ears back before opening the door.

The room itself had become one big all-out sensory assault. The smell of burning and chemicals was thick in the air, the light was low and dim orange from the furnace. It was uncomfortably warm. Sparks and wails filled the air as a masked Make Do set about cutting up a large piece of metal with a scary looking power saw. I didn't know how long I could stand it for, I just needed to be in and out as quickly as possible.

"HEY!" I shouted from the doorway, voice croaky and strained. As expected there was no response, though to be fair my voice was by no means a fearsome roar at the moment. I grimaced and entered the room, hangover really not gelling with this environment.

"HEY!" I hoarsely yelled again, closer to the mare this time. Still no response from her, she was absolutely engrossed in her work. Or still couldn't hear me over the din, more likely. The dark visor of the mask probably didn't help either, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be able to see me through it. I wasn't convinced a welding mask was strictly necessary for what she was doing, but I was sure she'd know better than me.

I cautiously trotted closer. Being a silversmith I was used to tools like these but on a much smaller scale, admittedly their full-size counterparts were quite intimidating. The noise was like a constant drone by this point, obnoxiously loud and grating. I don't know how Make Do was managing to persist without any kind of ear protection.

"MAKE DO!" I prodded her withers with a hoof and she jumped in surprise, which given the fact she was holding a power tool, was absolutely terrifying.

"Celestia above, Silver!" The mare said, lifting her mask, saw revving down. "You almost gave me a heart attack! You trying to get me to cut you with this thing‽"

"I was shouting but you didn't hear me." I retorted, frowning and rubbing my temples. "I can't work your shower."

"The shower? Oh, yeah, I guess I didn't really think about an Earth pony using it..." She trailed off, looking into the middle distance. "I'll come start it up."

I followed her back to the bathroom. She pushed the door open and her horn lit up, turning a small valve on the pipe and allowing water to flow. "It rained a lot yesterday so there should be plenty of water. Might be chilly, though." She said idly. "Hmm, probably not convenient to need my help every time you want a shower."

She sat on her haunches, seemingly contemplating the shower. She was right in the door frame, so I was just stuck awkwardly standing around behind her.

"Ahem." I deliberately coughed.

"Huh?" The mare turned to face me, and I nodded at the shower. "Oh, right, sorry."

She turned and walked back down the hallway, muttering to herself about pipes. I walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The room was noisy now, the sound of the constant spray of water onto the sheet metal tub creating an oddly percussive, ringing drone that drowned out the sound of my hooves and the creaks of the building. It wasn't quite loud enough to mute the industrial sounds of metalwork that had roared back into life, but it helped.

Make Do was right, it was chilly. It was practically freezing, so cold that I flinched getting in, all the air leaving my lungs. I was already shivering, but I really did need a wash. This wasn't my first cold shower and at the moment I wasn't too picky. I could see all the grime flowing off of me and down into the drain. That at least felt good. It was refreshing at least, I certainly felt more awake.

My teeth were chattering as I let the water flow through my mane, dislodging clumps of dirt and assorted crap that I was glad to do away with. I wondered how much of it, if any, was still clinging on from my time in the lab. How long had that beem dirtying me? I couldn't find any soap but there was at least a fairly clean looking sponge I could use to more thoroughly scrub my coat. It was awkward to try and clean my back, but I wasn't prepared to traipse through this building again, let alone dripping wet, and ask a mare I hardly knew to wash my back. I could manage. Sort of.

Maybe a cold shower was what I needed, it had at least snapped me more awake. Cleared my head. I was content, for a moment at least, to sit in the shower and let the frigid water run over me, now that I was more acclimatised to the temperature it was soothing, even.

I sat there with my eyes closed until the water stopped. I felt a little bad for using it all up, but I felt a lot better for it. I was vaguely aware that I'd need to dry off and warm myself up or risk getting a cold, but I couldn't really bring myself to move. I was still, not really thinking about anything particular, just being.

Just being, despite everything. Living, somehow. I'd queue jumped the end of the world. I made it when countless others didn't. That was a weight to carry, a huge weight. But still, logically there must have been survivors, the fact that Make Do was alive alone was proof that some ponies must have ridden out whatever happened and carried on living. That didn't change the fact that even if any of my friends or family did manage to cling on, I'd still never see them again. 175 years is a long time.

I pictured my friends and family. I hoped for their sake they'd either managed to get into one of those Stables or... or I just hoped that it was quick.

The building was quiet again. No metalwork, no creaking. Only the last drips of water falling into the tub.

I sniffled, tears bleeding into my already sopping wet fur. I didn't weep or wail, or scream my loss from the top of my lungs, I just didn't have it in me. I just sat in the damp, quietly crying, staring off into empty space. The sinking feeling only got worse. I started shivering again, from emotion or cold I don't know, probably both. I needed to dry myself off. I needed to just do something, hopefully I could take my mind off of this mess.

Shaky, I managed to rather ungracefully tumble out of the shower. Lethargically pawing around the room revealed a total lack of towels, for better or worse. I did need to dry myself, but if the towels were anything like the sheets on the bed then I'm sure I'd just be rubbing dirt back into my coat.

That would leave me dripping wet and cold for a while. I supposed I could go back and sit by the furnace again, but if Make Do was going to be in the workshop for a while then that idea was less than appealing. I looked back in the mirror again. I did look much cleaner, free from the layer of dirt I was coated in. I was still pale though, and still very tired looking. Almost haggard. My mane being damp and plastered to my face certainly didn't help.

Once again the abrasive sound of metal work roared to life from the workshop, which ruled out drying off in there. It was more percussive than grinding this time. A hammer, maybe? Either way it would still be insufferable to listen to up close.

I wasn't going to get any warmer just standing around. I shook myself off as best as I could, leaving me damp rather than soaked, if making my head a bit more worse for wear, and left the bathroom to find something I could wrap myself up in, leaving a trail of wet hoofprints behind me. There had to be something I could use.

I sat on the edge of the bed and broke the seal on the bottle, twisting off the lid and taking a sip. I didn't find anything to dry myself off properly, so I settled for a bottle of brandy to warm myself up from the inside. The liquid burned my throat on the way down, which was a welcome feeling. It reminded me of my student days, waking up after a party and downing the dorm's 'patented' hangover cure, we called it a Doctor's Order. Two parts vodka, two parts whiskey, one part lemon juice, one part carrot juice, hot sauce, orange zest, one egg and a shot of coffee. Frankly it was disgusting, but it seemed to work. A couple of those in the system and you were practically good as new. Minus the aftertaste. I wonder what Perfect Prescription would think knowing his idea had lived on this long?

The fondness of that memory quickly faded as I remembered that Perfect, along with everypony else I studied with, was long gone by now. I was the only pony alive who even know what the cocktail was. I sniffled and took another swig. It had started raining again outside. I pulled the sheet I up over my head, almost like a kind of cloak, idly dangling my hooves off the bed frame, sipping at the brandy and feeling it warm my core.

The radio had somehow crackled back to life at some point, quietly playing an old Sweetie Belle tune. I never did get the hype around her myself, I prefer my music a little less pop-y, but for the time being it was the best thing I had to try and stave off the loneliness. And I suppose it was good to know that there were actually other ponies out there besides Make Do and myself.

"Hello Baltimare! Glissando back again for your on-the-hour-every-hour news update!" Spoke the croaky voice of of the radio DJ. "Because here at Radio Bayside, we never sleep, ever!"

I took another sip and hoped that maybe the radio could be a pleasant distraction.

"We're able to confirm reports that the folks from Red Union have seized control of even more of the downtown area. In case you've forgotten, these guys aren't your everyday raiders or bandits, they're better equipped, better organised, they're known to use prisoners as slaves, and their radio station can't hold a candle to ours. My advice is to keep vigilant if you're heading downtown, especially around Sewer Side and Clutchtown, there are bound to be border skirmishes. Stay safe out there."

I scrunched my snout. That was not a pleasant distraction. Slaves, really? It was bad enough that the world was in this state, let alone the possibility of being captured and forced into servitude. That was enough to warrant another drink.

"But in good news, Merriweather Pavilion trading post have just announced the continuation of their caravan trade service north. Red Rein have conceded control of the area after the effort to control Downtown, meaning the route is now back open for business. If you've got anything that needs to make it to Hollow Shades, now's the time to do something about it."

Trade was a good sign of a working society, so that at least was a welcome piece of information. Really though, I would have hoped some progress had been made back to normality after so long.

Another sip.

Normality. That was the key. A sense of normality. Nothing here was normal for me, but it was normal for everypony else. In a way I suppose that I was experiencing some twisted form of culture shock. Would I get used to it? Would everything be better then?

"And finally we're reaching the time of year where our lovely patron, Miss Dorian Flash, is ramping up to announce one of her annual scavenger hunts. It's all for a good cause and we understand the prize will be the biggest to date. We'll be live with the announcement when it drops so don't touch that dial!"

I didn't really know what to make of that one way or the other. A scavenger hunt?

"That's about all for this hour, folks. Forecast is rain, rain, and just for a change, more rain. Coming up next the thrilling conclusion to The Beach Fillies And The Monster! Like you've not heard it a thousand times already. That's your reminder that our mailbox is always open for more music and shows."

The station transitioned into some kind of radio play, which I promptly ignored. I was thinking about the new information I'd acquired. Apparent factions, trade and, uh, scavenger hunts. What did ponies even do now? Make Do had a job, I wasn't quite sure what it was but she had one. If there was trade there had to be some kind of organised community. Do I even have any skills that are useful now? I could only hope that silver was still a commodity that ponies wanted, otherwise I'm left pretty much useless.

I'm an Earth pony. I suppose I could always go into farming...

I took another sip. The whole reason I moved out of Trottingham was to get away from farming. I really hoped it wouldn't come to that, otherwise my entire adult life, and also therefore my coincidencidental survival of the balefire, was meaningless.

I wondered what Dandelion did for work. How would she be fairing if our roles were reversed?

I wondered how Trottingham fared in the apocalypse. Make Do said pretty much everywhere was equally decimated, but Trottingham wasn't on the mainland, maybe it escaped the worst of it. Maybe my parents were spared...

Luna above I hoped so. I chose to think so. I knew I'd never see them again either way, but that stung less than the alternative.

Another sip.

The familiar warmth in my barrel was somewhat reassuring at least. Everything may have been effectively alien to me now, but alcohol? Alcohol never changes.

The grinding of the door roused me awake, my eyes flitting open. It was dark outside now, I wasn't sure exactly what time it was though. An empty bottle clanked to the floor as I shifted, rolling away.

Bumps and hoofsteps and jangling sounded down the hall. Presumably Make Do was back from whatever she was doing. I don't remember her leaving to be honest, but I wasn't really paying attention.

I shook my head. I had done myself no favours, I'd spent the whole day drinking and sleeping, and not it a fun way, in a depressing mopey way. I must have fallen asleep at a funny angle because my neck was killing me.

I sighed as the room slowly span. I was getting sick of these four walls, I'd had enough. I couldn't keep doing this to myself. I was sad, well sad is an understatement, but things wouldn't just magically get better from me hiding away in here forever. I didn't escape from that booth just to stay in here. I don't know if I was ready to go outside, but I ready to be somewhere else at least.

I stumbled my way out of bed and out the door, lazily trotting down the hall. Make Do was stood in the kitchen, half out of her outdoor stuff, unloading things from her saddlebags into the kitchen.

"Hey." I intoned, propping myself up in the doorway.

Oh, Silver! You're up?" Said Make Do, surprised.

"Yes." I replied, not moving from the spot.

"Uh, okay then." I heard her trotting around, followed by the clicking of a stove and the sound of ignition. "Well, I was going to make some dinner, if you want any."

"Dinner? What time is it?" I asked, confused.

"About seven thirty, I think." She replied. I heard the fridge open and the clanking of pans. "So, do you want any food or not?"

"Um, what are you making?" I asked. It was later than I thought, and food was probably a good idea. My stomach growled, when did I last eat?

"Fried Lugworm." Make Do stated in a very matter-of-fact way.

"Lugworm? We're eating bugs?" I queried, hoping I'd misheard her.

"Yes, and I take it that 'we're eating' means 'yes please I would like some food, thank you very much Make Do'." She said, the sound of oil in a pan filling the room.

"I guess so." I finished.

Lugworm? Ew. Weren't they the little bugs that live in sandy beaches? Was this really the best thing going? Can an equine stomach even process bugs? I don't think I necessarily wanted to find out either way.

"On second thought, you'd wouldn't happen to have anything less, uh, alive?" I ever so subtly asked.

"Hm? Oh, no, don't worry, it's been dead for a while." She replied, not missing a beat.

"Not what I meant." I deadpanned.

"Aw, come on, it's not that bad." She said, the sound of sizzling filling the room. "Besides, fresh veggies are hard work, Lugworm is cheap."

I didn't really have a case to argue against that, I really didn't know whether it was true or not. And I was far too polite to turn down a meal that had been made for me. I could only hope that it really wasn't 'that bad'. I have to say, the smell wasn't really doing a great job of convincing me otherwise.

Make Do hummed a little tune as she cooked. A familiar melody. A really familiar melody, actually.
"Is that... is that Thee Headcolts?"

"Yeah, yeah it is." She answered. "Dad's a big record collector."

Well, knock me sideways. The last thing I expected to ever hear again was a Trottingham band that were underground even back home. I loved them, actually. I smiled a small smile, maybe all was not lost.

I think that may have been more than I could say about the food, though.

No, that wasn't fair, I hadn't even tried yet, I was being too dour about it. It'd probably taste just fine, and it had been a long time since anypony had cooked for me. I was hardly in a position to complain, and I was still hungry, after all. I was by no means the best cook around, and at a time like this it really was nice to not have to worry about making meals.

I poked my head up and watched Make Do for a bit. She didn't seem to notice me, occupied with task of preparing the food. I think I had quite unfair to this mare over the last couple of days. She was being very accommodating, and while I still found her to be a bit strange, she hadn't really done anything worrying. In context. I had been plenty worried before, but I also didn't know what was going on then. Us meeting may have not been under the best circumstances, and I'm sure first impressions were terrible both ways, but she'd really been nothing but, well, nice to me. Even when I was being a bit obtuse. Also, there had been a big reduction in the amount of times she'd pointed a gun at me, which was an improvement.

Was it a bad thing if I was getting used to the presence of lethal weapons?

"Aaaaand perfect!" The mare declared, switching off the stove and plating the meal up, dishes and utensils clattering. She made her way over to the table, plates floating behind her, and gently placed the meal on the table.

To say it wasn't what I was expecting would be something of an understatement. I thought Lugworms were little earthworm like creatures that lived on the beach, or at least the ones in Trottingham were. This thing was different. Very different. It was big, about the size of a tin can. It was segmented like a worm, though. Was this only a section? Make Do had a very similar thing on her plate, and if I looked closely I could see where it had been cut. These Lugworms must be enormous!

It wasn't a very appetising looking, or smelling dish. Essentially looking like a ridged, beige cylinder dumped onto a chipped and discoloured plate. Crusty on the outside and soft in the middle. It smelled like sweaty clothes. Make Do was already digging in, apparently far too eager, if her attempts to fan her mouth were anything to go by. I poked at the unfamiliar food with a fork. It jiggled a little, which put me off more. I wasn't sure what I was expecting it to do, but it wasn't jiggle.

I mentally scolded myself. This was foalish, I wasn't a filly anymore, I shouldn't be putting off new foods, especially when they'd been generously prepared for me. I cut a piece off and jabbed it with a fork, tentatively raising it to my mouth, blowing gently to cool it down. I took a small bite and chewed.

It tasted as much like sweaty clothes as it smelled. Not that I knew what sweaty clothes tasted like of course, I'm a mare with standards- but that's besides the point. It was unpleasant. This was a problem, as it'd be unforgivably rude to turn down a freshly prepared meal in my opinion. But also I really, really didn't want to eat the whole thing.

"So, how are you holding up?" She asked inbetween bites. "Guess you felt like getting out of that room, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." I answered, poking at my dinner. "I think I was getting a little bit stir crazy. Can shut the world away, but not feelings..."

"Want to talk about it?" She offered.

"Not really."

I stared at my plate for a while. I really didn't want to eat this, it was like congealed laundry water runoff.

"Well, how about you tell me about yourself?" Make Do piped up, stabbing another fork full of food.

"Huh?"

"You've been here like, three days, and I still don't really know anything about you. Well, beyond what I saw in your file." She explained, taking another swig. "So y'know, fill me in. Who is Silver Sterling?"

"I'm, uh, I'm nopony, really. Nopony special, I'm from Trottingham and I like making jewelry." I paused, it was my turn to drink. "That's it, really."

"Trottingham huh? So that's what that accent is! A new one on me, never met anypony from there, what's it like?" Make Do said, now leaning forward in apparent enthusiasm.

"W-well, it's nice, I suppose. Quaint, a lot of open country, and you're never very far from the coast. I moved away to come to university here, I've not been back in a few years. My family all still live over there-" I still hadn't gotten used to the idea that they would all be dead. Saying it out loud stung like nothing else, it was like it suddenly became real. "Lived. They all lived there."

I sighed and wished I had some more of that brandy or something. Anything that could dull that sting would have been good, even if it was only a little bit.

How long had it been since I'd seen any of them? I hadn't seen Mum or Dad since I visited after graduation, and that was a while ago now. Cousin Mint had come to visit me a couple of years ago, but that was only for a few days. I hadn't seen anypony from back home in ages, and I never would again.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't think I want to talk about this anymore." I meekly managed to say, staring down dejectedly at the floor.

The conversation died for a little bit again, awkward silence taking it's place.

"You know, Silver, I used to live in a Stable." Make Do started, quietly. My ears perked up at that.

"A Stable? So they worked?" I asked, genuinely curious. Thinking about it I knew ponies who'd managed to get spots in Stables. It wouldn't make everything alright, but knowing that at least some of my friends managed to escape instant sublimation by the hooves of the balefire eased my heart just a little bit. "Is that why you have a PipBuck?"

"I guess you could say that, well enough at least." She answered, a little non-committaly, but the idea that the Stables had done their job was amazing. "And yes, everypony got one when they were old enough."

"What was it like?" I prodded. I was genuinely curious. I'd seen the ads but I'd never actually gotten to see a Stable in the flesh. Er, concrete.

"It was like a little sealed village. Safe, abundant food and water, everypony looked out for everypony else." She smiled. "It wasn't perfect, but it was home. It was a nice place to grow up in. To live in."

That did sound nice, cosy almost. But really begged the question of why she left if that was the case. She paused for a moment, looking like she was collecting her thoughts. Finishing the final bite of her dinner, she cleared her throat and started again.

"See, the thing about Stables is that they have a lot of resources. Fresh food, purified water, power, you name it, it's there. We were pretty ignorant of the surface world, but the surface world was not ignorant of us."

I nodded.

"One day the whole Stable gets called into a meeting. The Overmare says that we'd revived contact from outside." She continued. "Our directive was to remain sealed until we got further instructions Stable-Tec, and we'd not heard anything ever. As far as we knew, everything topside was dead."

Her horn lit up and she grabbed a couple of Sparkle-Colas out of the fridge, placing one down in front of me.

"A lot of the meeting went over my head, I'd only just gotten my cutie mark at the time, but at the end of it the concensus was that we'd send a scouting party to investigate."

She popped the cap and too a long sip of her drink. Almost chugging it, even.

"Poor bastards didn't even make it out the door. A group of raiders had found our location, somehow, and they wanted what we had. They were waiting for us, the second the door opened, they attacked. Security couldn't hold them back."

I paused, looking at her with wide eyes.

"A lot of folks died, raiders shot anything that moved. Or worse. Maybe it was because I was small, maybe I was just lucky, but somehow I managed to slip past them all and escape out into the wastes. I don't know if anypony else made it out of there, but I like to think so." She finished, leaving me borderline speechless.

"That's... that's horrible! T-t-t-that's sick!" After hearing all that I was truly shocked, ponies should not kill ponies. How in Celestia's name could we have decended so far as a species‽ This was despicable, it was a betrayal of the core values of equinekind.

"Yeah, it is, but that's how it is in this bitch of a wasteland, sometimes. It's harsh and ponies can be savage. I'm over it, mostly. It was years ago now, and I'd never have met my Dad otherwise." She said, rolling a hoof. "But my point being we're not a million miles apart, Silver. The hurt never goes, but it gets easier, you just have to get through it. I made it, you can too."

I understood her sentiments, but my main takeaway from her saga was fear. Not only were we contending with rabid wildlife, apparently there were now roving gangs of murderous ponies out there too. What next, angry robots? Mutants? This 'wasteland' was starting to sound like a bad science fiction novel.

What good were the stables if it just made their occupants even more of a target? How many more lives could be taken? This was just further proof that I just wasn't made for these times.

And all that aside: "Wait, I'm confused, do you mean you 'met your dad'?"

"I don't know what happened to my actusl biological parents after I ran. I hope they're okay, wherever they are. Anyway, I ended up wandering the wastes alone for a couple of days after I escaped. Got trapped by a couple of bandits who thought they'd try and sell me off to slavers, hurt me pretty bad too. That's when my Dad found me. He must have just heard me crying and came to the rescue. I thought he was scary too at first, but he saved me from the creeps and took me in, taught me everything I know, and the rest kinda explains itself." She finished with a small smile.

"T-that's quite a story." I said, trying to sound neutral. This new world was sounding more and more vile by the minute. Attacking and selling a foal as a slave? Sickening.

"That's life." She proclaimed, standing up. I took it. "It has it's ups and downs, but it always carries on. It might take a while for you to adjust, but you'll get used to it eventually. Trust me, it's was as much of a shock for me leaving the Stable as it is for you."

I sat digesting her words. Maybe she was right, maybe we weren't as different as I first thought. Very different personalities yes, but it seemed that we were both victims of circumstance to some degree. Everything I was dealing with was very depressing, but her account just sounded outright horrific. At least I didn't have to actually see my loved ones die. Perhaps if I stuck with her for the time being I could get back on my hooves. At the very least she would have some idea of where I was coming from.

Part of me did actually feel better for that talk, in an odd way. I almost felt like if she could do it, then so could I. I was going to need time, time to adapt, and time to get over, well, everything, but I was a big mare. I'm sure I could do it. And this was a second chance. Maybe not the most ideal second chance, but it certainly beat the alternative.

I think. I hoped so, anyway.

The other part of me though was still stuck in a state of abject horror over her account. Did I really want a second chance if this was the world I was stuck in? It was, for lack of a better word, wrong. The Equestria I grew up in was innocent and carefree. This new Equestria just seemed dead and decaying, the life having left it long ago now. Everything was rot and violence.

What to do? What would anypony do in my position. I bet Noite would be able to handle herself, she always was great at adapting on the fly. Perfect would probably have an aneurysm just from seeing how dirty everything was.

I vacantly stared at my food, now tepid, still unappetising. I wonder what Make Do's dad is like? Was he anything like my dad?

I needed another drink.

My mind was uneasy. After the last few days I had been thinking about Dandelion a lot, how we'd left her behind, still petrified. I don't know what machination freed me and not her, but I was under no illusion that it was entirely luck of the draw, and the roles could so easily have been reversed. It had been a long, contemplative night, considering my place in the world now, trying to work out where I belonged.

I couldn't stay in this room forever, but where could I go, what could I do? I'd spent nearly all my time locked in here lamenting my loss, when I was the only one of anypony I knew lived. That in hindsight was incredibly selfish with me. I don't know if it was survivor's guilt or something but it felt like such a waste, even though I knew it wasn't any kind of they-died-so-I-might-live scenario at all. Like it wasn't fair to them, like somepony else would be more deserving. But it came down to me, there was no pony else. Well, except Dandelion, but I'm not too sure how much she counts right now. I should probably try and find out what could be done about her, not cool of me to let her situation fall by the wayside while I got plastered.

I'd also been struggling with the fact that I had been acting like a spoiled brat for most of the time I'd been here. Yes, I was dealing with a lot, but that was not really an excuse.

I couldn't do this anymore. It was starting to seem like waking up tired was becoming a habit of mine. Definitely my own fault, I suppose, but that didn't mean I had to be happy about it. How many more mornings clould I spend waking up nauseous and fatigued, just to spend the whole day getting to the same point again? Unpleasant enough to not want to get up at all, covered in mystery aches and pains, reeking of alcohol, feeling greasy and dirty.

It was early, daylight still breaking. It would probably have been a lovely sunrise if I could have seen it through the clouds. I don't think I'd seen a blue sky once since I'd left the lab.

I was struck by the relative quiet I found myself in today, though. The radio wasn't cracking a dusty old song, I couldn't hear any power tools from the other room, and while it was drizzly outside, it was hardly enough to fill the place with noise. It was odd, I'd only been here a few days, but more often than not it was a cacophony of sound. The break was more than welcome, but still weird.

I decided I'd try and make the most of the quiet and see if I could doze off for a little longer. My stomach had other ideas though, rumbling. I didn't finish my dinner last night, and I felt bad about it, but it was godawful. That left me on a basically empty stomach.

Begrudgingly, I got up and made my way to the kitchen, finding it bereft of life. Since it was so early I assumed Make Do was probably still asleep. That was a bit of a problem. I could hardly just help myself to her food, especially if—from what I inferred yesterday—ponies are willing kill over it. And especially since I didn't even finish my dinner last night. I'd told her I wasn't hungry to save face, I'd come across as a liar. I mean, I was lying, but that wasn't the point.

This would definitely be crossing a boundary. I may not have been the most gracious guest during my time here, but this would really be pushing it.

My stomach growled while I fought against myself. My belly was cramping, I don't think I'd ever been so hungry it'd hurt before.

I had to eat something.

Despite myself, I hovered over to the fridge and pulled the door open. There were a few bottles of water and Sparkle-Cola, and to my relief, there was also a small supply of ready to eat food. Nothing special, but it'd do the job. I grabbed some water, a couple of fresh carrots, and a box of Dandy Colt Acres Apples that really looked in rough shape, but the actual apples inside seemed good enough. Thank Celestia for preservatives, I guess. There were some other bits and pieces in the fridge too, but to be honest I couldn't actually tell what any of it was, so I thought it'd be best to leave it.

I managed to tripod walk to the table and dump everything I was carrying. I sat down and unscrewed the cap of the bottle, taking a long sip. After another hunger pang I moved on to the carrots, greedily chomping through them both, stems and all. I tore open the box of apples and took a bite of one, despite it's advanced age it was still crisp and juicy, somehow. I limited myself to just one apple, eating the whole box would just be greedy.

"You know, most ponies ask before raiding someone's fridge." Came a raspy, now familiar voice. I could see Make Do out of the corner of my eye, stood in the hallway door frame. I turned my head to face her, guilty. She didn't look particularly impressed.

I was frozen mid-bite. Caught in the act, how shameful. "I'm so sorry." I offered meekly. I was so embarrassed I hid my face behind my hooves.

"I don't mind much, maybe just like, ask me next time, okay?" She sighed, trotting over to the table and taking the seat opposite me. "Food doesn't grow on trees, y'know?" She stated, without a hint of irony, only seeming to cotton on to what she'd said after a few seconds.

"I-I'll replace what I took, I promise."

She rubbed her eyes and grunted. "I appreciate it, but you're going to need money for that." She yawned. She must have literally just woken up, she was wearing a very oversized pyjama shirt and she had a severe case of bedmane. Actually I think this was the first time I'd seen her without it tied up.

"I'm an Earth pony, I can help you grow your own." I posited. "If you have seeds... and a garden... or planter..."

"Seeds are hard to come by, but if we find any I might just take you up on that. Never been very greenfrogged myself." She yawned again and shook her head, mussing her mane. "I need a coffee, you want one?"

"Coffee? You have coffee?" Just the mention of the word perked me right up. I probably didn't deserve it, but Celestia a cup of coffee would probably fix me right about now.

She must have taken that as a 'yes please'. I watched as she pulled out a battered looking tin from under the counter and scooped some brown powder into two mugs. It was granulated only instant coffee, but it was coffee nonetheless. And that was most welcome indeed. She filled a pot with bottled water and put it on the stove to boil.

I was actually excited. This was like a little morning treat, a little bit of normality. I hadn't even actually said yes and she was brewing one up for me too.

It may have been rocky at the start, but she had taken me in, given me medical attention, the works. I'd been suspicious and cold in response. Not to say I don't think my behaviour was justified, given my sitiation I think fear was perfectly justified, but I had been less than pleasant, shall we say.

I'm sure she probably just felt bad for me, but it was appreciated either way.

"Hey, I um... I don't think I ever said it but thanks for taking me in." I announced. I had to say something, I hadn't really been my best self the last few days. "Thank you. I know it's probably not been easy having me crashing here."

"Oh, it's not been much trouble." She smirked. "You seem like you're doing a little better."

I didn't know how true that was, there was still this all consuming void in my heart that I wanted to fill with booze and a general sense of looming nihilistic depression, but I think actually reflecting on my situation a but had made that a bit less upfront, for now at least. Maybe I had compartmentalised things, given the slow but steady stream of new information I was getting. Given the last few days though, I wanted to be doing better.

"Maybe." I non-answered.

"Well, either way it's nice to see you more together." She smiled. "I was starting to worry that I'd only get to know drunk or hungover Silver."

I was quiet for a little bit as the water heated up. The gentle hiss of the burner underscored Make Do's humming.

"So, what's your plan? What's on the cards for Silver Sterling?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what do you want to do?" She intoned, looking back over her shoulder. "Free from the lab, nothing to tie you down, you're a free mare on the wasteland!"

What did I want to do? I didn't even know what the options were, nor what lay beyond the city of Baltimare. Tartarus, I only knew a single pony! Too many options, not enough information. Or drive, really. But there had been one thing playing on my mind, I didn't know that it was urgent, but it did feel like something I had to do.

"I think I want to help Dandelion Burdock out of the spell."

I felt a certain kinship with her, even though I'd never really met her and didn't know anything about her. We were bound by circumstance though, the last two ponies from before the end of the world. I wanted to help her. It was probably selfish of me, but I also wanted somepony I could share this with, who really, to have that kind of camaraderie of shared despair. I think it would make things easier for us both. Especially me.

"Wow, okay. Like from the lab?" Make Do chirped. I nodded. "That's a bit of a tall order. Doable, I think, but might take some effort."

"It's okay, I can take my time. It's not like she's going to be going anywhere."

"Ha, true I guess." She hummed in thought for a moment. "Okay, well I can hold off delivering the data, we'll need that to find somepony who knows what they're talking about."

My ears perked up a little. "Are you sure? I know delivering it was sort of your job..."

"Well, that'll learn them for paying me in advance." She winked, sticking out her tounge. "Besides, this is probably the right thing to do. Celestia knows nopony would help her out otherwise. You're a good pony, Silver."

"Thank you." It was a relief to know that she was on board to help. It honestly felt like a weight off my shoulders knowing I wouldn't have to figure things out by myself.

"Don't mention it. Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom, mind keeping an eye on the water so it doesn't boil over?"

"Yeah, sure." I confirmed as she trotted off. I stood up and meandered over to the stove, staring at the water intently. I know the old adage about watched pots, but I was very eager for this coffee. I was hoping I could sort of will it into heating up faster. It didn't seem to be working though, it was only just starting to bubble.

I rested my head on a hoof and leaned on the counter. I watched the flame dance it's little dance under the pot, a pleasant shade of blue, absentmindedly tapping my other hoof on the countertop.

My attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of clanking from the front door, I whipped mynhead around just in time to see it slide wide open. Stood in the doorway was the single largest Griffon I'd ever seen. His head was a stark, snowy white, face marked with numerous scars and cuts. He had very broad shoulders and was mostly muscle, and looked to be wearing a very sturdy—if well worn—armoured vest. I'm pretty sure there were some bullet marks decorating the thing. His talons looked razor sharp, as did his beak, and he was looking straight at me with cold, steely eyes.

I froze up. Quite frankly, he was terrifying. Was he one of these 'raiders' Make Do had mentioned yesterday. Oh stars above, were we being attacked?

"W-who a-"

I was not afforded the luxury of being able to finish my sentence. Faster than I could blink the Griffon had blasted the distance between us and had grabbed me by the neck, crushing me in his forelegs as his bodyweight pinned me to the floor. I spluttered and choked out breaths as his talons came dangerously close to breaking the skin around my windpipe.

"Make Do, are you here? There's some kinda drunk vagrant in the kitchen." He bellowed, tightening his grip as I-

Hang on, 'Drunk vagrant'? How very dare he‽ I scoffed, flat out insulted. I am a mare of standards, not some filthy hobo! At least, I would have scoffed if I wasn't currently being held in a chokehold by this hulking behemoth of a Griffon. I was only just about managing to get air to my lungs as it was.

"Oh shit, she's a friend Dad!" I heard the toilet flush and frantic hoofsteps as she galloped back into the room. "It's okay, she's cool! Let her go, please?"

Dad? This was her dad? He looked like he could pull a tree out of the ground with his bare claws! I was under no illusion that if he wanted to he could've pulled my head clean off here and now, but luckilly for me he chose not to.

"If you say so." He muttered, releasing me. I fell to the floor, coughing, gasping for air, tears beading in the corner of my eyes. I held my neck, I could still feel the indents where his claws pressed into my skin. My throat stung.

Make Do helped me back up as he left to retrieve a giant duffel bag he'd discarded by the door. "Can never be too careful these days." He remarked as he walked off, slugging the bag over his back and disappearing down the hall, slamming a door closed.

"Sorry about him, he's been a little on edge lately. He'll be fine later, I promise." Make Do said. "You okay?"

"T-T-T-That's your dad?!" I politely enquired.

"Well he's definitely not my mom." She replied with a flat stare.

"B-but he's huge!"

"Aaaaand? He's still my dad." She said, perplexed. I took a breath and realised that him being the size of a bull didn't have anything to do with it at all. Him being an entirely different species however was certainly different.

I took a deep breath to collect myself and get my airway working again.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect your dad to be a Griffon. Like, at all." This was true. I also didn't expect her dad to be so incredibly terrifying, but I thought it'd probably be rude to say that out loud. At least I knew where Make Do got her dangerous streak from, though.

"It's fine, nopony ever does. I mean, who would, right?" She giggled as I got steady on my hooves. I swallowed, still feeling the tightness around my neck.

What am I supposed to do if even the 'friendly' guys here are cutthroat and terrifying?

"That really hurt." I groaned. I wasn't prepared for what just happened in the slightest. I'd just been assaulted by a juggernaut, after the last few days of relative uneventfully depression, this had set my heart off beating a million furlongs an hour again. "Is that normal?"

"He's still in soldier mode, it takes him a little bit to decompress. He's amazing really, I promise. We've had... problems here before is all."

"I'll... I'll take your word for it." I sighed, I was not looking forward to encountering him again any time soon. Maybe this was my sign to try going outside again.

I guess it sort of made sense. I remember Make Do mentioning junkies breaking in. It just seemed like an incredibly heavy hoofed response to me. Especially as I am very clearly not a junkie nor a drunken vagrant, thank you very much.

The sound of hissing cut through the room as the pot of water sat foaming and boiling over, drenching the stove top and sending steam billowing to the ceiling

"Sooo, coffee?" Make Do awkwardly smiled as she trotted over and turned the burner off, calming the excited water. "Might need to boil another pot."

"Of course."

Nothing is ever easy, it seems.