The wasteland can break you. Turn you into a monster. Take away what made you a pony. Many have already fallen. Raiders are a perfect example of those that turn to cruelty because they have nothing else. Some have gotten off much better, such as Lil`Pip and her band of do gooders. This is a tale about one of the unfortunate. And how a friend can help you see the bright side, even when the sun isn't shining.
Fallout: Equestria
Spark
Chapter 1:
Fall
I love this gun. It really is a great gun.
I watched as the raider fell to the ground, a scorched pocket in his head where the awesome forces of Celestia herself had smited him. What remained of his mane stood on end and smoked comically. It was almost enough to bring a smile to my face.
From what I could see, there were only two Disciples left. One fuming mad, probably due to me killing all her friends, the other more calmly putting a magazine into his gun.
Last two. I turned the power setting on my gun to Bolt. More fun that way.
Aw, look. Those darned raiders are charging me. How sweet is that? One even started firing at me. The bullets bounced off the armored barding of my radiation suit. They left small, glowing indentations in the suit. Damn radiation bullets.
The discharger of the gun flared brightly. A super compressed cylinder of energy flew halfway across the courtyard and sailed gracefully into the raiders skull.
Mmm, crispy.
The other continued her charge, swinging her RAD Sword and yelling out religious bigotry and whatnot. She reached me, and received a noticeably more melted head for her troubles.
With the last raider down, the courtyard grew eerily quiet. The complex had a small courtyard and a decent sized building in the center that looked to date before the war. The battle had knocked the door open, and the inside looked like the usual ominous, dark, and foreboding place. Light shone from my horn as I daintily stepped inside the loony bin.
Inside, a few lights flickered forebodingly. On the opposite side of the room, the door to an office. (You know, typical for an anarchist group hell bent on destroying the remains of Equestria.) On either sides were the sleeping quarters and armory. And I knew all of this due to the convenient labeling above each door. That was kind of them. Somepony had been kind enough to leave the armory door open. Inside, a room filled with the what might as well have been toys and candy. Guns, swords, and rocket launchers. Carefully, i magically lifted whatever I could and placed it in a sack hanging from my horn. Definitely no chance of getting deadly radiation poisoning.
This was too easy. Get in, Steal Weapons, Get out, Sell to town at inflated prices. To my disappointment, there wasn't even much resistance. I had caught them during their morning prayers, but there should have been more of them. The thought was very troubling. Even more so when I saw the large group of disciples waiting at the gated entrance to the compound.
Oh for the love of Celestia.
The leader, a massive red pony magically wielding a broadsword, shouted out with enough force to knock one or two of the Disciples off their hooves. "Send him to the Bale!"
And with that command, the sword wielding loons charged, some bombarding me with religion. The gunners stayed back, sighting me up from behind their slice happy friends. Yay! I wasn't fighting morons! I ran back into the cover of the building, making sure to close the door in my wake.
The maniacs charged head first into the door. Along with the area around the door and the area in front of the door.
Wait, what?
Even over the sounds of combat, a high pitched shriek could be heard. The noise of clanging metal and shouting bodies stopped completely. Being “strategically positioned” behind a steel door, I could only hear the shriek, and subsequent crack, of whatever was outside.
Chunk.
I could hear the raiders move away from the door. I took the opportunity, flinging the door open, action pony style. Shame I didn’t bring any shades. As the wasteland loon gaped at my awe-inspiring prowess, I switched the power setting on my gun to pulse, and charged the nearest raider in slow motion. The look on his face was priceless when it melted off. Also cooler in slow motion.
Suck it, religion!
A good third of the raiders fell to the ground, twitching wildly They looked so cute after being electrocuted. The others were stunned by the show, enthralled by my greatness. My Dex whined at me, some miniscule warning about low power.
I charged at them, my weapon recharged. Through my tunnel vision, I saw him realize what was happening, and raise his Rad sword. Not in the mood to be stabbed and irradiated, I blocked it with the side of my gun. His surprised look only lasted a second before his internal organs were fried. Behind him, the remainder of the raiders collapsed, doing that oh so hilarious spazzing thing.
They had fallen in a rough circle. In the center of the circle, the lead raider laid sprawled out on the ground, a large dent in his head. Beside him, a Pegasus mare sprawled on the ground.
Wait. A pegasus fell from the sky and knocked the enemy leader unconscious, giving me enough time to catch them off guard?
Thank you, Wasteland!
She was a sight to behold. Braided brown mane with a deep purple stripe. Pastel blue coat. Although, her wing, bent at a cringe worthy angle, was a little off putting
I walked around, retrieving the fallen weapons and depositing them into my wonderful Bag O` Weapons.
The mare was still unconscious when I finished. She had gotten a minor shock. Nothing permanent. Considering the state of her wing, she looked pretty peaceful.
Using my magical energy, I floated her with me, away from the Outpost. I unknowingly found myself humming a morbidly familiar, yet strangely happy, tune..
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Terminal City sucked Gryphon Eggs. Little more than a wall. A crappy, round wall. The crappy wall surround a ruined portion of the original city that could be considered "habitable". But only after butchering the meaning of the word "habitable."
The cesspool of a city had a band of mercenaries patrolling the wall. No pony knew, or cared, who payed the mercs. They served their purpose well enough. Opening the gate; breaking up the occasional fight; closing the gate. Very complex mental tasks.
As we approached the gate, me and the unconscious mare, two guards decided to use my head to calibrate their sights. One unpleasant looking mare with a shotgun, and the other a scrawny looking stallion with a battle saddle. Why was everypony’s first instinct to point a gun at me? Really, I must look into a new neighborhood.
"Halt! What is your business here?" The mare barked down at me.
Halt; really? Is that the best these lugnuts could come up with? Doesn’t matter. Just have to get them to let me into the “city”.
“I have guns to trade. Also, a wounded pegasus that’s pretty fucked up.”
The guards looked from me to the guns to the mare back to me and finally resting on the mare. Who knew rapid eye movements could be so interestingly invigorating?
“And why the hell are you carrying a pegasus around like a sack?” The mare went on.
“Discord himself ordered me to; under threat of being turned into chocolate rain.” I said. Sarcasm! Good to have you around.
The mare pumped her shotgun in reply. Why so hostile?
“Fine. She fell from the cloud cover over the former Disciple outpost North-West of here.” I continued, not wanting to get into a fight without any good loot.
The two seemed to glance at each other before the mare responded. “Former?”
“Yes. The former Disciple outpost. As in, there are no Disciples left at the outpost.”
The stallion backed up a reasonable distance, even while on a wall. The mare just positioned her shotgun like a post and leaned on top of it.
“Let me guess.” she said, using a mocking, yet slightly questioning, tone. “You’re the Outlander.”
Finally, the recognition I deserve!
“Damn right.” I replied.
“I thought so.The fee to get into the city is five-hundred caps. But for you, it’s one-thousand. Extra for the trouble you’re bound to cause.”
I don’t bring trouble wherever I go. Death, maybe. But certainly not trouble.
I harrumphed. “I’d have caps to get into the city if I could sell my loot in the fracking city!”
The mare just smiled. “Sucks for you.”
I just sighed. Emotions welled up inside me. Wait. Nope, just my lunch.
“Fine. I don’t have the caps, but I can trade you weapons.”
Her ears shot up at that offer. “What weapons you got?”
Ah. My forte. More magic flooded me as the Bag O’ Weapons floated off my horn and onto the ground, spilling it’s contents.
I could have sworn they awed at the sight.
Minutes later, they had new weapons, and I had passage into the city. The skinny stallion called down to the other side of the wall..
The gate groaned as it was forced backwards on huge hinges. I could see two small groups of ponies pulling the gate back. They wore collars and the tattered remains of vests. Sucks for them.
The gate opened onto the main, and only, street in town. Shops lined the sidewalk, vendors moping about their stalls, waiting for the scarce few customers winding their way through the one dreary street.
I trotted down the way, looking here and there at all the wares. I decided to return later to take a more extensive look at everything.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Twas a short trot to the Clinic, a dangerous looking building at the end of the strip. A group of ponies dressed in dirty surgical equipment hurried the wounded mare to somewhere else in the building, already starting to tend to her wounds.
I trotted into the hastily constructed waiting room and plopped myself down on the floor, flipping through a Pre-War magazine. But lo, there was only so much entertainment value magazines could give me, and I resigned to running diagnostics on my suit to pass the time. After two AGONIZING MOTHER FRICKIN hours, a more pleasant looking yellow mare came in.
“The patient is awake.” she said in that well trained voice I couldn’t stand. Bitch.
She led me to a crumbling patient room. The mare sat upright in the small medical cot. Her eyes were frantically roaming around the room, probably trying to find alternate means of escape. Have fun with that, oh Wingless One. Her injured wing was wrapped in a bulky cast.
I trotted to her bedside, looking at the shocked mare. "What is your name?" While I tried to keep my tone sympathetic, it just came out as a low growl. My people skills at work.
She looked over, noticing me. For a fraction of a second, her breath caught as she took in the armed and armored pony asking her a question. She had heard stories of horrible things happening the Pegasi that ventured below the clouds, physically and mentally.
"Sky Dancer." She mumbled, unable to peel her eyes away.
"Well. Welco-" I attempted to get out before being interrupted. Her eyes dashed to the rifle on my back.
"What's that?" She asked, eyes focused on the weapon. Her shocked expression faded ever so slightly as she looked at the hardware.
The gun floated between us, slowly rotating in the space. "This is an electro rifle. I made it." The gun looked like a skinny cone mounted onto a handle. Light poured from the base to a ring mounted in the center. Elegant and effective.
She looked the weapon over. Her eyes traced the slowly pulsing energy feeds. Suddenly, she snatched it out of the air and started turning it in her hooves.
“Hay! Give that back.” I swiped at her, but she nimbly dodged from her bed onto the floor.
“What does this do?” She gestured to the center ring.
“That condenses the charge into one of a few different forms. Now, will you just give me the Pony-God damned gun?!”
“Woah.”
She kept asking question after question about the gun, not letting me touch it at all. By Celestia why did I get stuck with such a crazy pony. However, for a fraction of a second, I cracked a small smile. A small one. For a second. What are you looking at?
Shut up.
After she was done scrutinizing my gear, she insisted on leaving this place. I was more than happy to comply. As we walked out of the Med-Center, I learned how she had literally fallen from the sky. She and another young mare had been engaged in a race when she had been bumped from the sky and through the clouds. She had tried airbreaking to slow her fall, but got a broken wing for her troubles. And I had informed her we weren't all slaving, rapist, cannibals. Some, but not all.
Her eyes wandered the marketplace. "We don't have many guns where I come from. Just the Military.”
"It's pretty much a requirement here. A gun can get you work, defend you from raiders, and a host of other things. Mine even does barbeque."
We trotted into one of the last standing storefronts. A scarred, grey stallion greeted us. "Welcome to Archie's Gun Shop! What can I get you for, dear traveler?"
What kind of name is Archie? A stupid name, that’s what.
I looked around the disheveled store, searching for what we needed. I found it stashed on one of the shelves. A battle saddle, fitted with two semi-automatic rifles. It even had two holes she could fit her wings through.
"That" I pointed to the saddle. "How much?"
Sky Dancer chimed in. "I thought you already had weapons."
"I do. You don't."
She looked shocked. "I will not be armed like some savage!"
I turned to her, glaring daggers. "Either you get armed, or I leave you here. And the others won't be as kind as me. Especially towards a Pegasus."
She recoiled visibly. A little shocked from the outburst, she warily agreed.
The sleazy dealer had brought the battle saddle for our inspection. The guns were a bit rusty, but were in working order.
"I'll give you 500 caps for it."
The dealer recoiled in mock disgust. "For such fine armaments?"
"Be glad I buy your crap at all."
"600 caps."
"Throw in ammo."
"Deal."
Bartering, bitch.
Dancer looked curiously at the exchange. We left the store, me showing her how a battle saddle worked. "You bite.Then bullets come out."
She looked at my saddle bag curiously. "What did you exchange for this?"
I levitated a bag out of my saddle. "Bottlecaps."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Ya. I know."
I felt a buzzing in my saddle bag. My Dex levitated in front of me.
Quest completed: Saddle Up
Huh. Good to know.
Dancer looked curiously at the hoof held screen. Seemed to be a common theme.
"It's a modified PIP Buck. I call it Dex."
She smiled at the strange device. I say, she's too happy for her own good.
A few ponies were trotting about their business as we approached the entrance. Dancer made some small talk with the guards before the slaves opened the gate. She looked shocked as we walked past them.
As we made our way from the ruins, she turned and asked "Why are they being forced to work like that?" Her voice held a dark tone.
"Do you always talk this much?" I asked sarcastically. "They were captured by raiders and sold to the city. It’s called economics."
She looked repulsed, but remained silent as we made our way towards my next goal. The Ministry of Peace Research Center.
Level Up! (25)
New Perk! Arms Dealer
When trading weapons, you will receive 10% more caps. More buck for your bang.
Quest Perk Added!: Start Of Something (Rank 1)
You now have +2 Charisma and all checks with companions have a higher chance of success. Also, you now have a companion! You sly dog, you!
Author's Note
So, this is the semi redo of the chapter. A lot has been rewritten.
