Chapters The moon hung high over the Mojave Wasteland, the bloatflies were buzzing, the nightstalkers were rattling, and Veronica Santangelo was getting angry.
She had been sitting on a bar stool in the Lucky 38 for an hour and a half, and when she came in she had the simple goal of getting nicely buzzed, nothing too crazy (if she wanted to get completely shitfaced she would have gone to The Atomic Wrangler, but that place was a bit... rapey, for her tastes) then go up to her suite to get a few precious hours of shut-eye in, it was 3 in the morning, mind you, and she needed her beauty sleep.
That’s what she had been trying to remind The Courier of for the past hour and a half.
“Please Ronnie! Can’t you spare just a sec for your old pal? I doubt it’ll even be that dangerous”
It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her cool, especially when The Courier was insistent on using that name for her.
“One: you know I hate that nickname, and two: if Doctor Klein says it’s too dangerous, then it is too dangerous ”
The Courier gave a snorting laugh.
“C’mon Ronnie, you really think that guy is anything more than an insane floating brain-in-a-jar?”
The ex-Brotherhood scribe had to concede that point. From the stories the Courier had told, the good doctor sounded like a complete raving madman (a few cards short of a caravan, if you will). But still, this was his invention, and he knew better than anyone about how to operate it safely.
And that brings us too what The Saviour of The Wastes was trying to convince our poor power-fisted friend to do.
For you see, after defeating the Giant Roboscorpion, and sweet-talking her brain into coming with her again (a concept that Veronica still couldn’t quite wrap her head around) she had spotted a mysterious looking cave and, on a whim, had wandered inside.
The creature she had briefly encountered inside was still like a burning hot poker in her frontal lobes whenever she dared try and recall it. So she had fled, and got back to the Mojave (after brokering peace with the Think Tank) as quickly as possible.
Veronica had awoken that night too a still-shaking Courier, madly raving about something to do with “A buzzing light that moved faster than a Cazador on turbo” with vague hinting to a “Song on the radio that could make a Deathclaw shiver”.
But now, roughly three months later, The Courier wanted to face her fears with her good, power armour-clad friend by her side.
Problem is, the Transportalponder was only a one-seater, so The Courier had to go alone to Big Mountain, or not at all. A concept she outright refused when Veronica suggested it.
An so that leads us back to where we currently are, that is to say, The Courier trying every twelve seconds to convince Veronica too at least try using the device on both of them.
Veronica was now on auto-pilot refusal, dismissing any non-logic and pointing out the flaws in any half-arguments The Courier presented, but was infact thinking deeply on the issue of how to get rid of the pure annoyance in humanoid form that was constantly pestering her.
The answer, she theorized, was at the bottom of this glass.
She had kept her cool so far, she could at least keep it until The Courier got bored of asking.
That small hope of hers died as quickly as a Radroach in a Deathclaw nest when The Courier released the argumentative equivalent of concentrated machine-gun fire.
“Please Ronnie! Please Ronnie! Please Ronnie! Please Ronnie! Please Ronnie! Please Ron-”
Veronica stood up and decided to intervene before she actually had to kill her long time friend.
“God dammit Jane!!!” The Courier flinched at that, the ex-scribe only ever used her real name when she was truly pissed off “Ok!!! Fine!!! I’ll do it, just to shut you up!”
Silenced reigned in The Lucky 38 for the next few moments, even the humming of the nearby Securitrons seemed to quiet for that short period of complete silence.
The spell was broken by a cheer from The Courier.
“Yay!”
She started rapidly clapping her hands, and very nearly skipped off her bar-stool, while Veronica fell back onto her own with a sigh. All the death and destruction that women had seen, and caused (mostly caused) and she was still as happy-go-luck as ever.
“Ready to go?”
The courier seemingly materialized before her, in full combat armor, anti-material rifle slung over her back, 12.7mm Submachine-gun holstered at her side, ... but... hadn't she just been wearing her regular clothes... never mind. She was about to say how she needed to go and get suited up in her power armor, and fetch her power fist and trusty 44. revolver, but when she looked down, she was already in full power armor (a process that normally took at least a quarter of an hour) with her power fist strapped on, and revolver at her side... no, she wasn't going to question it, she wasn't going to vocalize the impossibility of what had just occurred, sometimes, with The Courier, things just... happened, and you either had to go along with it, or go insane trying to figure it all out (that was what had happened with Arcade Gannon... poor Arcade)
Veronica looked up.
“Yep”
She said.
“Ready to go”
The Courier smiled, and held out the “barrel” of the Transportalponder for her to grab hold of.
She looked longingly back over to her drink, before grabbing both it, and the offered device, holding her glass high in the air, and muttering a quick
“Here's to adventure”
Before downing the rest of her glass. No sooner had the burning liquid passed her tongue, than The Courier pulled the “trigger” on the device...
Nothing happened...
Nothing continued to happen.
“See?”
Said the ex-scribe victoriously.
“I told you it wouldn't-”
Her gloating was interrupted by a sensation not too dissimilar from all of her internal organs being ripped out simultaneously, and then pure blinding whiteness.
---NWB---
Twilight Sparkle hated Mondays.
This fact may surprise many ponies that knew her -and many more who knew of her- but it was a cold hard truth.
Monday was the most dreaded day of the week in the Golden Oaks Library, not to say that the establishment got more or less customers than average, but for a certain purple alicorn, it was time to clean her feathers.
When Twilight first became an alicorn, she had flown everywhere for nearly a week, even if she just had to pop out the front door to get the milk in, she would hover the few centimeters to the milk, then hover the few centimeters back.
But, as Twilight soon discovered, life isn’t all sunshine and barrel rolls.
She had received a thick tome from Celestia one day... NO! Not like that, you sick freak!... ahem, from Celestia one day which she presumed was some sort of ancient script, perhaps detailing how alicorns came into being... but no, it was a five hundred and seventy eight page volume entitled “Wing Care: The Basics” now, Twilight wasn’t one to be scared away by a high page count -she was more invited by it than anything- ,but there were five hundred and seventy eight pages to cover the basics of wing care!?
And even with the help of her two pegasi friends, it had taken awhile for Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy to feel comfortable letting her do it by herself -though perhaps “comfortable” isn’t quite the right word to use for our butterfly-flanked friend- but she had got it in the end.
She was just about to grab the first of several combs and brushes, when a sharp popping noise announced the arrival of the two most terrifying figures Twilight had seen in her life (and as a pony that had faced down dragons, changelings, mad chaos gods and ancient reawakened evils -to name but a few- that, is saying something) .
---NWB---
In the not-so far off city of Canterlot, Princess Celestia was enjoying her morning tea, when she faintly heard the scream of her student turned co-worker.
---NWB---
In the cloudeseum The Wonderbolts were having speed and endurance practice, doing continual laps around the stadium.
For a moment Spitfire, captain of The Wonderbolts, thought she heard a vaguely familiar scream off in the distance, and thought for a moment, trying to place it
“Quit daydreaming skipper!”
Came a shout from her co-captain, Soarin’.
She quickly focused back on the track.
---NWB---
In the orchards of the small frontier town of Appleloosa, Braeburn Apple was overseeing the planting of a new grove of apple trees when he heard a scream that seemed to tickle his ear-drums it was so quiet.
“Wait...”
He started, why did that voice seem so familiar?
“Oh well, prob’ly nothin”
Little did this apple farmer know, that what had just transpired was anything but “nothing”.
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Chapter the Second "Everypony faints: edition"
There were many different emotions whizzing around the master bedroom of the Ponyville Library, in some cases as tiny buzzing “Indignations” barely bigger than mayflies, or in others as giant, bat-winged, soul-sucking, acid-spitting “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ONs”.
The two bipedal occupants of the room were flat on their arses, staring straight at the lavender alicorn, after being shocked so badly by the skull splitting scream that had only now finished echoing off the rafters, combined with the general woozy feeling that using the Transportalponder gave, meant they had been rather unsteady on their feet, and were even now struggling to stay upright, even when on the ground.
As for our quadrupedal occupant, well... she was currently following the Kubler-Ross model to a tee, working through the grief of having her privacy invaded by two individuals that she had currently named, “Soul Ripper” and “Bone Crusher”.
Though
Said the one part of her mental processes not devoted to “panicking”.
Perhaps I’m being a touch melodramatic
“Well fuck, I don’t think this is Big Mountain”
Said Soul Ripper.
There was an absent-minded murmur of agreement from Bone Crusher, who, if it’s horrifying metal face gave off any kind of emotion, would have been looking quite shocked indeed.
Twilight screamed once more.
“Oh god! My ears!”
Hollered Soul Ripper, as it began clutching the deformed mushroom like... thing where it’s head should have been.
“Fuck... wait, did that horse... thing just scream?... again?”
Strange
Thought Twilight’
It’s beginning to simulate emotions.
“Yeah, because the first time was just a fluke”
Snapped Bone Crusher, who appeared to have auto-repaired the damage to it’s aural sensors, and was now functioning at full capacity. As an added bonus, it had also downloaded some humor software.
By this time, something had snapped Twilight out of her state of shock, and began the first stage in earnest.
“Y-You c-c-an’t be he-e-ere”
The alicorn chuckled madly.
“It’s not scientifically possible!”
Something about that sentence seemed to stun the two bipedal death machines, perhaps it was the mad, chuckling inflection? Further study would be needed.
“Nope, I must still be asleep... I should really wake up, think of the checklists I have to make!”
And still they sat there, seemingly enthralled by her monologue, probably just some cunning trick, they lull you into a false sense of security, then... WHAM! When you least expect it, they snap your horn off!!!
“Dude... did that horse just talk?”
Asked Veronica.
Twilight’s blood ran cold. Her “This is all a dream” theory was getting less plausible by the second.
But then she remembered, that these... things had just invaded her home!... That was a crime against the crown! HER bloody crown!!!
A sense of mighty justice filled the alicorn’s body as she slowly started flapping her wings and rising into the air, horn glowing menacingly and voice rising to Royal Canterlot levels.
“I, PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE OF EQUESTRIA-"
That was as far as she got before The Courier’s armoured hand clamped down on her horn, drawing a quick gasp from the poor pony, and shoved her back onto her bed, which left The Courier just standing there, with Veronica at her side, after her purely instinctual reaction. For you see, you don’t last long in the Mojave Wasteland without learning to quickly neutralize anything that falls under that category of “Menacing” or “Glowy”, especially if it falls under both
The room fell into silence once more after the quick outburst, and even quicker retaliation.
Then the door very-nearly burst off it’s hinges as a bundle of purple and green flew through it.
“Twilight! I was across town when I heard you scream, so I came as soon as I could, and then I heard you start doing some big ‘Royal Canterlot’ thing so I-”
Spike froze.
He then noted two facts
Twilight was not alone in her room
The two other people that were there, were... well they were... they were just so... BADASS!!!
“Holey moley!”
He exclaimed.
“Are you guys... SUPERHEROES!? Yeah! That must be it, you guys are superheroes, so when you heard the cries of an innocent mare in danger, you came as quick as the wind! And you managed to dispense justice before I could even get here! Oh man, I wish I could have seen you guys in action! I mean, it must have been- ”
*THU-THUMP*
The two fell to the floor almost simultaneously.
Spike felt extremely let down.
“Oh... uh, guess you guys are tired from all that justice you dispensed, huh? Ehehe...”
*THUMP*
Twilight fell off her bed and joined the two “superheroes” on the floor
Spike just looked down at the three of them.
“Why do I even feathering bother?”
Throughout her time in the Mojave Wasteland, The Courier had learnt many things, everything from the simple stuff like “don’t drink from heavily irradiated water sources” to some more advanced techniques, things like the weakest point on a Deathclaw’s body.
But one thing she had taught herself over many months was a series of muscle movements that, if she ever felt someone else reaching for her sidearm while she was asleep or otherwise incapacitated, would grab the offending party’s wrist, and deliver a clean punch to their face, giving her time to reach for her gun, and paint the walls an interesting new colour called “Hint of Brain”.
She had tried to refine it to the point where she could land the punch on her opponent’s windpipe, but hadn’t quite managed that yet. Still, it was an effective technique, and absolutely vital for any sort of camping trip, Bandits were more of a pain in the arse than forgetting the tent pegs.
---NWB---
After the triple fainting session, Spike had called all available hooves to deck, eventually being able to gather Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash at the Golden Oaks library.
Rarity was too busy sewing a dress that she had described as “Just too important, darling” -element of generosity my arse- and Applejack had started making her explanation to Spike, but he had tuned out after the word “Apples”.
And it totally wasn’t like I just don’t feel like writing those two right now... or anything.
Pinkie Pie had just been hopping around Ponyville, looking for something to do, so she was easy to convince, and of course Fluttershy, being Fluttershy, said yes as soon as he mentioned Twilight possibly being hurt.
Rainbow Dash was slightly harder to convince, as she had been doing flight training, but Spike had won her over by saying that:
“Leaving Twilight hanging would be totally uncool”
And it was that very same cerulean pegasus that was now staring at the two prone bipedal figures, having lost all interest in her passed out friend when she saw the two -to use her own words- “Badass robot thingies”.
“I’ve never seen anything like them!”
The pegasus raved.
“I mean... are they like robot Diamond Dogs or something?”
Fluttershy was still fussing over Twilight, having been put into “nurturing mode” as soon as she walked in the bedroom door, now feeling her forehead with her hoof for the twenty second time.
“Just to be safe”
She had said.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too... until they fainted simultaneously”
Spike huffed, still upset that he didn’t get to meet any superheroes. Rainbow Dash, completely enthralled by the strange things
on the beings hips, was now reaching for one of them.
“Hmm, I wonder what thes-”
*crack*
“AAAAHHH! OH LUNA ON A TRICYCLE, THAT THING JUST BROKE MY FEATHERING SNOUT!”
The cerulean pegasus was sent flying back, as The Courier reached for her submachine gun.
And paused.
And looked at the current occupants of the room.
She dropped the gun in shock.
While Fluttershy had gone to attend to Rainbow Dash, Pinkie was just staring at her, bright blue eyes wide, focused, but most importantly, unmistakably intelligent.
“H-Hello?”
She tested the waters with a simple greeting.
Pinkie’s normally cheerful face pulled itself into a scowl.
“That wasn’t very nice!”
The Courier was then in the uncomfortable position of having to admit that having a bright pink horse scald her for her behaviour, wasn’t actually the strangest thing she had ever seen or heard.
“Uh... sorry, I guess”
She offered weakly.
“You sure as hay better be sorry, you just broke my friend’s snout!”
The Courier had done far, far worse things to people than breaking their noses (or snouts, as the case may be), but now that she was being berated by this small pink equine, she felt genuinely sorry.
“Urgggggh”
She heard a small groan from beside her before she could attempt another apology (she had injured an innocent, after all).
“I was having the strangest dream, Courier, you were there... and there was this weird purple horse... thing, ‘cept it had wings, ya see, and this really long horn”
It seemed that Veronica had finally regained consciousness.
“Hehe... the thing is Ronnie... that... well... that wasn’t a dream”
Explained The Courier nervously.
“WHAT!?”
Veronica had gone from lying down with her eyes closed, to sitting up with eyes wide in about half a second. She regretted that decision almost as soon as she made it.
“Oh sweet lord my head...”
Pinkie Pie glared at them both with mistrust.
“I don’t know who or what you two are, but you broke Dashie’s snout, so I’m keeping an eye on you!”
She warned, her eye actually bulging out of it’s socket and pressing against The Courier’s face, shrinking back after a moment.
The texture was none too pleasant.
But The Courier seemed unphased, Veronica, however was practically in a state of shock.
“B-but... how did you do that? You shouldn’t have an eyeball right now! I-it should have popped... or something”
Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Fluttershy was fussing over Dash’s broken snout.
“Oh! You poor thing, are you ok”
“Ok? OK!? THAT FEATHERING FEATHER OF A FEATHER JUST FEATHERING BROKE MY SNOUT!”
Fluttershy backed away from her injured friend momentarily, but remembered she had to do something for her friend.
That something, unfortunately, was resetting her nose.
Without anything to dull the pain... this was going to be unpleasant.
She grabbed hold of her friend’s snout quickly, better to get it done before she had time to think about it.
*crick*
“OH SWEET SWEET CELESTIA!!!”
Another cry of pain came from her rainbow maned associate.
It was that cry that finally roused Twilight.
The screams of an alicorn princess once more echoed through the streets of Ponyville, turning all eyes towards the Golden Oaks library.
Inside that fine establishment, Spike was holding Twilight down while Fluttershy was trying to calm her, Rainbow Dash was recovering from having her nose reset, Pinkie Pie was screaming along with her friend (“It looked like fun” she had said, before continuing to scream) and The Courier and Veronica were looking around in confusion at the chaos that they were inadvertently causing.
“Huh”
Said The Courier.
“Guess we gave her a bit of a fright”
Amidst the earsplitting cries emanating from our purple friend were semi comprehensible words, that sounded vaguely like “Please get me a pudding cup!”... as I said, semi comprehensible.
“Twilight, please stop screaming”
Fluttershy was saying calmly.
More screaming
“Twilight, if you could please just calm down and tell us what’s wrong”
More screaming
Fluttershy winced. There was one surefire way to get Twilight to calm down... but she didn’t want to resort to scare tactics.
In the end, her complaining eardrums won out.
“I could always get some sedatives, Twilight”
The screaming instantly stopped.
It was a little known fact that Princess Twilight Sparkle, glorious alicorn and savior of the world, was deathly afraid of needles.
Blissful silence filled the room for a moment that seemed to hang in time.
The rope was cut by the sound of someone trying to sneak whilst wearing power armor, a near impossible task that would have taken a stealth boy and huge amounts of turbo to accomplish.
As it was, every head in the room was turned to the ex-Brotherhood scribe, who was halfway to the door with her combat armoured compadre, Twilight’s screams having covered their approach so far.
The two Mojave natives froze for several second, considering their options and weighing up the risks each one presented.
Their dash to the door was so well choreographed , you would think it had been planned months in advance.
They continued sprinting down the stairs and towards the front door, only giving slight pause to observe their unusual surroundings, once they had thrown the front door wide open though, they both stopped completely.
It wasn’t the multicoloured pastel ponies -a many of whom were staring at them- that were giving them pause, and it wasn’t the thatched roof cottages either.
No, they were looking beyond the entire village itself, as if all the streets and shops didn’t even exist, towards the outskirts of Ponyville.
And, more importantly, the rolling fields of lush green grass.
It wasn’t as if both of them had never seen grass before, there was quite an abundance of the stuff in Vault 22, but that had always looked... unnatural, like it didn’t belong in the burnt wastes that surrounded it.
What they were seeing now though... this was the good stuff, it stretched on for miles and miles.
And, for the first time in either of their memories, both of them began skipping towards it