Fallout: Equestria - Rapture

Part One - Welcome to Rapture

Chapter Two - Rapturous Routine

Being a Steel Ranger of course had its perks. You get to wear a badass armor and a battle saddle full of enchanted death machines. You get to fight off those zebras, griffins, dragons and other monsters who threaten Equestria. You get covered in chicks every time you show off your battle scars. You even get a free beer can for every ten zebra ears you bring from the battlefield, courtesy of MoM.

But today I understood that it had its downsides too. Especially in Rapture. Especially when Overpony needed something done about Streamer and his antics. Especially if that something was freaking boring. Especially if it was very freaking super close-my-eyes-and-fall-asleep boring.

"Hey, Tang?" Salad yawned beside me.

"Yeah?" I responded.

"You done?"

"Nah. Five more cameras. And you?"

"Three. I dunno. They seem useless. Targeting talismans suck. Armor is thin. It would take an elementary school unicorn filly to reprogram it."

"So what?" It was my time to yawn.

"When Streamer starts using them against Overpony, he'd want us to fix it. More work."

"And your great idea is..." I looked at him.

"Dunno. Just saying." Salad shrugged.

"Then shut up and spare some rivets."

Who would've thought that recycled and reproduced air of my armor's air talisman would be so welcoming and pleasant after Streamer's fishery and its stink. I was almost certain that there was something... fishy going on. No matter how this place sucked, ponies were carrying bags and crates with an unexpected care. They almost looked like they liked their jobs. But there was no 'almost' in how they looked like they wanted us gone. Badly. They were freaking me out.

"A-hem." I heard from the radio.

"What?" I asked, flicking the switch on my mask. Now I could only be heard from the speakers in Rangers' helmets.

"I don't like how they look at us, you know," Salad said.

"Chill. We have rivet guns. And armor."

"Have you tested how rivet guns shoot on the open air? Do they shoot at all? How do they tear through tissue? What if Streamer's guys have guns? They can just..."

"CHILL!" I roared. "Don't be such a wussy! Like we have any choice anyway!"

"But we do! Screw Overpony! We can just, like, hijack our mobile shack and live off seaweed!"

"There's a tracking device in the shack," I sighed. "And there are Elder Rockstone's private quarters in it too. We can't just hijack Elder's house."

"Oh..." He fell silent for a moment. "Right. Totally forgot about that. Endure the psychological pressure then?"

"Endure the psychological pressure." I nodded. He couldn't see me though.

Giggling and fluttering ball of wet white fur was rolling on my bed, dampening it and trying to squeeze some words out of wherever its mouth was.

"Would you stop?" I groaned.

"O... Oh... Oh-ho-ho!.." Featherbrain laughed and finally sat relatively upright. "Or w-what? Ar-he-he-heee... Are you gonna throw more water at me?"

I got my wet mane out of my eyes. "Look, I'm wet. You're wet. What's so freaking funny?!"

"Have you s-seen yourself?" She managed and went into her laughing frenzy again.

I took a peek at the mirror and couldn't resist a little laugh. "Okay, I get it. Just... Calm down and watch the bucket. I'm gonna go outside and fix it, okay?" I opened my suitcase and quickly put on my armor. "And I'm gonna screw the living snot out of you when I get back. Prepare yourself, Ms. Featherbrain." With that and a little smile I went away.

A stroll to the shack for my trusty tool and some spare steel plates later I was standing before a tough challenge. How the hell would I get up to the eleventh floor to fix the window?

"Hey, Tin Colt, need a lift?" Salad's voice chuckled in my helmet. A yellow service bathysphere was hovering above me. There was a rope hanging from it. I clung the shackles on the rope and on the armor together.

"I'm okay to ascend," I said and my body took off from the bottom. "How did you know anyway?"

"You woke Elder Rockstone up. He told me that you took the steel and the rivet gun. And I was like 'Hmm... What would Tangerine need these for? Of course some emergency repairs!' And so, I'm here to lend a hoof!"

"Thanks a lot, Salad," I said.

"It's Smasher!" He countered. His full name was Salad Smasher. He preferred being called 'Smasher'. Everypony else, of course, preferred him being called 'Salad'.

As I got higher and higher, I finally saw Featherbrain, swapping the buckets furiously. "Stop here. Get me closer."

I was as close to the wall as the bathysphere could manage to get me. I raised my hoof to the window and it, slowly at first, then faster and faster, moved me to the window. Then it stuck on the steel frame. Magnetic boots, a very convenient enchantment. I waved. She smiled from behind the reinforced window and I got to work. It was impossible to tell where exactly the leak was, so I decided to fix the whole slit between the windows. I had more than enough scrap metal and rivets. A piece of metal made a little 'click' upon connecting to the wall. My high-tech toolbox saddle buzzed to life and a rivet gun appeared just below my withers. Its barrel stuck forth just enough to connect it to the metal. THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! Okay, this will be enough. Next plate coming right up!..

Featherbrain was so stupid. No, she was actually really smart when she wanted to be, a PhD in biology was the proof of it. But she was still very stupid. She could run. She could hide. She could fight me off. But all she did was just lying on the still damp bed in the most suggestive manner. She was just screaming 'Take me now, oh brave Steel Paladin (who (temporarily) works as a Stable maintenance guy)!'

And take her I did!

"What's your problem?" I asked, panting.

"Huh?" She rolled into my sweaty hug.

"Why driving me mad so that it feels like I punish you for being a freaking featherbrain?"

"Heh... E-he-heh..." She smirked tiredly. "You fuck better when you're angry."

"Oh you and your dirty mouth!" I rolled my eyes and smiled back.

Life in Stable would never be boring with this mare.

Streamer.

This buck was just disgusting. No, he wasn't a legless zombie, soaked in blood and other bodily fluids. He was very attractive and charming, actually. This was exactly the catch. His deceiving smile never touched his eyes. He could manipulate you into blowing up a balefire egg in your pants and you would be glad to do it for him. I couldn't help but admire his skills. I kept a distance from him though.

His pale yellow hide and cherry-colored groomed mane and mustache looked good together. His casual shirt created a 'country buck' image. Could you tell that he owned one of the biggest businesses in Rapture ci--Hydrostable? I couldn't. But he actually owned 'Streamer Fisheries' and, with that, a few hundreds of employees, who might as well be bandits and robbers. I knew that 'I will gut you and sell your lungs to griffins' look from when I was in Manehattan Police Department and had to deal with gangsters and backstreet kings.

"So tell me, Mr. Smasher..." Did I mention how freaking sneaky the bastard was? "What does the Overpony want from us? We merely expand our fisheries to a more profitable place. Doesn't he want Rapture to grow?"

"He does," Salad Smasher said. "He just doesn't trust your methods. How can you get so much profit from catching fish and harvesting seaweed?"

"This stinks like screwing with Overpony from a mile's distance, Streamer, and you know it!" I stomped my hoof against the wooden floor. "You better stop whatever illegal you're doing until he sends us to clear the place from you and your mobsters. I really doubt they have power armor."

He just smiled. "What are you talking about, Mr. Tangerine? Since when fishing became illegal? And I'm not sure if it corresponds with Scootaloo's idea of the free trade."

I gave him a stare with my armor's visor (I hoped it looked scary enough). "We both know you're one lying son of a gun, Streamer. You've been warned. Let's go, Sa...Smasher!"

He obediently followed me to the airlock.

"Should we flood them with acid?" I heard (thanks to my enhanced hearing enchantments) one of Streamer's gangsters asking.

"Let them go. They're just Overpony's errand boys." He answered through gritted teeth. "They're nobody to me."

I turned 'radio only' mode in my mask. "Something tells me we're not welcome."

"Uh-huh. Should we tell Overpony?" He pulled the 'Flood' lever and I felt my insides loosening when I saw water instead of acid.

"Why would we? Like he's better than this Streamer bastard." I stepped outside.

"He pays us," Salad argued.

"Would he pay for that info?" Salad fell silent. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. We let Streamer know that Overpony knows he's the bastard foal in Rapture. Let's see what he does next. Popcorn and beer are on me."

"You're an awful influence, Tangerine, you know that?" Salad chuckled. "I just hope Overpony won't throw us into this mobster swarm again."

"I'm gonna ask Elder Rockstone about giving us battle saddles. They sure won't dare to attack Steel Paladins with freaking grenade launchers."

Salad chuckled again. "Oh yeah! I'll stick to the anti-dragon shotgun though."

And with a carefree chit-chat about modern battle saddles, we picked the best path to the Rangers' shack.

"...And then they thought about flooding us with acid, but Streamer talked them out of it. We really need some better weapon than these toolbox saddles!" I finished.

"I see..." A big gray elderly stallion with a white mane said. "This must've sucked."

"It did, sir Elder Rockstone," Salad said.

"Okay, paladins, I'll think of something. Dismissed," He said and waved us to go.

"Thanks, sir!" We said in unison and left the shack.

Our Elder was the best Elder you could ask for. He had gone through an awful lot of fights and battles, starting from a private soldier in army and, little by little gaining higher ranks, became a brave and thoughtful Star Paladin of Steel Rangers. He noticed me on papers after I destroyed a zebra mob in Manehattan, back when I was just Officer Tangerine, Manehattan Police Department. I gladly accepted his offer and became a Novice Ranger Tangerine. Rockstone, unlike some other Steel Paladins, really cared about each one of his subordinates. He was like a father for all of us, all the time.

Then, somehow, we all ended up in Rapture. All paths lead up to Rapture.

Everypony has a virtue and a vice. An undying good quality and an undying bad quality. For example, Applejack was trustworthy - virtue - but very stubborn - vice. Twilight Sparkle was very good at magic and science - virtue - but easily upset and overreacting - vice.

Salad's virtue was finesse. His vice was alcohol. Today, on Rapture's 20th anniversary, he combined them. A fast music track with a powerful bass was playing in the bar as he showed his bartender skills. Shaking, throwing and twisting bottles, he mixed some amazing cocktails, showing off to public. He was a little drunk already, but that seemed to only help him.

By the way, do you know why his name was Salad Smasher? Because he loved to get drunk while eating. Guess in which dish he loved to sleep after a good drinking?

"Twenty bits say you can't perform the same trick after a Wild Pegasus!" I yelled to him.

"Oh, say goodbye to your bits!" He laughed. I hoofed the bottle to him and he took a swig. "Y-yeah!!!"

He took a bottle of Flank Merlot and threw it high in the air. Then he tried to catch it with his hoof, but this resulted in falling head first on the counter. The bottle smashed against the floor and his flank got soaked in wine.

"You owe me, buddy!" I smirked and helped him get up. The crowd roared with laughter and applause.

"Yeesh! Just... Hold on..." he slurred, blinking out of sync. "Do I know you, mister?"

I was lying in my bed with 'Twilight Sparkle and You'. And no, it wasn't a magazine jam-packed with hot pictures of her, like 'Wingboner Monthly' or 'Playcolt'. It was a thick tome about magical energy weapons and devices that feed from spark batteries with big detailed pictures and schemes. Though I preferred more traditional guns, beam rifles and plasma sidearms were pretty neat. They could even reduce a creature to ash or green goo with a well-placed shot!

Featherbrain emerged from a bathroom. Her white coat was radiating a soft glow.

"Bookworm!" She teased.

"What? It's interesting! Did you know that the first beam gun was invented by Starswirl The Bearded and that Twilight Sparkle and M.A.S. just used his ideas when designing modern ones?" I smiled.

"Wow, you really are a bookworm!" She jumped on a bed and stood over me. I put the book away.

"Can you ever get enough?" I asked. She silenced me with a kiss.

"Hush. You know the answer," she answered with a smile. I stroked her cutie mark, which depicted a pair of feathers. "Besides, don't you... want?"

"I do. Always. I'm just afraid that you can become a sex fiend."

She giggled. "No, I don't think so. I have a very strong will."

"Prove it!" I grinned.

"How?" She grinned too.

"Keep your wings under control," I whispered mischievously.

A look of concern touched her face. Then she smiled challengingly and nodded. "Easy-peasy!"

I pressed my hoof against her cutie mark a little stronger. She gasped just a little, but it was enough sign for me that I was going in the right direction. My second hoof began messing with her left pair of feathers.

"That's... Not fair..." She whimpered under her breath.

"You wanna know what's not fair?" I asked her and, not caring much for answer, tenderly bit her ear and ran my tongue around in a little.

A quiet 'nnngh' was answer enough. She buried her face in my coat, white looking great on orange, and held my sides with her forelegs. I decided to leave one of her cutie marks alone and gently stroked her wingtip.

"Ah! St-top!" She mumbled into my chest. I gave a few more strokes. Her wing was trembling, but clutched strongly to her side. My hoof brushed just a little under her tail...

"Nice stiffy!" I smiled, looking at her wings standing firmly up.

"Oh yeah, nice stiffy indeed. Ha-ha-ha," she said with a poker face. "Now just take me already, you dumbass! I'm sore!"

"Wait, wait, let me savor my victory!"

"Savor this!" She yelled and slammed her crotch against my face.

Life underwater wasn't really easy, wasn't really hard and definitely wasn't safe or dangerous. But it certainly was interesting and fun. It was pure Rapture.

Author's Note

Why writing this chapter? Because I wanted to show you the routine in Rapture and a daily life of our protagonists, e.g. leaking walls, Streamer's thugs and so on and so on.

Next one is gonna bring what you've been (maybe) waiting for. I've certainly been.