Back from Vacation and a sneak peek at the next chapter... · 4:06pm Jul 7th, 2018
Hey there, faithful Wastelanders!
Firstly, a joke: how can you tell when a scavenger is around to steal your stuff?
A:When he or she has more bobbypins than they have mane.
Well, I am still working on the next entry of “Fallout: Equestria’s Scoundrels – The Last Song,” for you all. It’s been a busy couple of weeks since I posted the last chapter and a lot has happened.
Firstly, I’ve been away for a week at the coast. In fact, I’ve been to a place called Whitby in England, where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. It’s one of my favorite places and was a joy to write there, following in the footsteps and pen-swipes of great writers.
Unfortunately, the next entry isn’t even half way done yet, but I did want to share some of it as I’m having a lot of fun writing it.
So , I thought I’d share the first page.
Please, if you want a teaser, see the below and enjoy...
If you recall, Mole has just introduced Crow to a phantom-like entity called a Minstrel, and then she said something that startled the Griffon...
Daddy?
Mole had said Daddy.
She had believed that the metamorphic green smog, which had taken the form of a middle-aged stallion with a beard and a short-brimmed fedora in our carriage, was her father.
Did that make him some kind of spirit of the parent she had lost? Had I been looking at an actual ghost who had come back to the physical realm to check in on his daughter? Was that what the Minstrels were?
What was more, was that Molasses Candy had greeted him like he’d come back from a short trip, not a long sleep beneath what passed for daisies these days. When I looked from the placid phantom to the other glittering specks across the city, I was seeing the same thing all over. Ponies greeting one or several apparitions, all of whom did not seem shocked or startled by their familiar shapes.
They lit up the rest of the stable with their biohazard glow filling the streets. I am certain I saw the entire city thanks to the bright light filling the lanes between the pastel ponies. It was partially reassuring to know that the stable did have ends and didn’t stretch on forever.
There were only two ponies that I could see down below screaming out and trying to scramble away from the shapeshifting creatures, something I was wishing I was able to do if I wasn’t trapped in a cage nearly scrapping the ceiling of the Stable. They were members of my party, I could tell from the mane-styles, and they were as unused to seeing ponies appear from thin air in front of them as I was. One was stopped quite swiftly by the nearby ponies whilst the other instantly disappeared out of sight.
As I raised my eyes back to the supposed “Mr Candy,” I gulped, wondering what the proper greeting was to a horse that was supposed to have popped his horseshoes years ago. I never got a chance to try any acknowledgment, as the hidden orchestra reached the song’s cue, the specter opened his mouth. His maw was colored the same shade as the rest of his body, right down to a leaf green tongue, but what came out of it was a clear, deep and warm male singing voice.
The daughter’s voice and the voices of the hundreds, maybe thousands of ponies in the Stable joined the father and his supernatural choir in melodic harmony. The song, jazzy and hopeful, filled the huge cavern with ease.
“We’ll meet again someday,
So don’t you go a’getting blue.
Don’t know when, and I don’t know where, but I know,
Every road will lead me back to you.”The song. It was my Pa’s old song.
For a moment I completely forgot that this old tune was coming from strange, floating creatures amongst unnervingly cheerful ponies miles below the surface, and was transported back to a better place, during an easier time.
“Tell my old pals back home,
I was singing this song out loud!”When my Pa had us singing that song, he’d always make us yelling that bit as loud as we possibly could. Usually it was just me and him, occasionally my sister joined in although she was often far too grumpy and proper to sing the full song. Mom didn’t sing, even if she was there. She was rarely there. I wish she’d never been there..
The song brought memories of being perched on my Pa’s lap by the hearth in the Winter and by an outdoor campfire in the Summer. Often I was sloshed by my Pa’s beer as he bounced to the music, yet I didn’t mind that. I got my taste for alcohol from him and I don’t mind that. Any taste of bitter ale or spicy whiskey brought back the comforting memories of my family, before things changed.
I reawakened from my trip down the lanes of my old life, and realized that I had been joining in with the rest of the Stable under my breath. I stopped for a moment to look at Molasses and smiled weakly at her.
She was dancing and jigging, singing at the top of her voice. She was more naïve and optimistic than I had ever been as a chick, but she still reminded me of a time when I was as easily excitable. Then something changed this as a note of odd concern washed over her face, which was followed by her turning and jabbing at the lyrics on her PipBuck for my sake. I wasn’t immediately certain why until I saw something different out of the corner of my eye.
As I glanced back up to Mr Candy, I found him now staring back at me with his nearly featureless face. Not only that, I could she his original shade of green was turning murkier. It was transforming entirely into a bloody red. The indented circles where his eyes would have been seemed to be reading my soul. I was fearful that he was going to tell Mole everything about me. Who I was, what I’d done? Who had I killed to get here?
I was doomed.
… I think that’s enough for now.
Hope you’re looking forward to reading the rest.
There you have Deadwood and Gypsy running in their T-30 uniforms. From what? Trouble, no doubt… stay tuned to find out.
As always, Thank you again for reading up to this moment. Ask me anything.
If this is when you stop reading, goodbye and safe travels.
If you're still strapped in for the ride, see you in the next chapter.
All good things,
Duskhoof
