Meanwhile…

I stood at the mirror, and wondered how I got to be so old.

My beard had stripes of grey in it, my once brown hair was cut short, but I could see gray on my sides. It was a nice look, I suppose, but when you could have sworn that you had fewer wrinkles and smooth as silk skin on your chin the last time you looked in the mirror, it’s unsettling to see...

I didn’t have time for this. My eldest son is missing, and here I am wondering how I got old. Maybe that’s the reason he left.

I turned on the water and cupped my hands under, and splashed myself. He might not have left. It’s not like him to walk away from things that are important.

“You thought that before about when he left school.” A darker part of my mind said to me. It didn’t feel right. It was like someone was trying to embitter me. I fought it.

“Shut up.”

The feeling subsided for now, and I finished cleaning myself up. I put on my shirt and jeans as I walked to Jerry’s room. It was the same as it was when he left… no, went missing. I KNOW he didn’t just run away.

It was a total mess. I told him time and time again to clean it up, and he didn’t.

I walked into the room and saw his clothing strewn about the floor, his books covering his bed. Untold number of candy wrappers and water bottles as far as the eye could see. And his desk filled with those damn pony and anime figures.

He wasted so much of his time with these stupid and useless things, and it made me angry. He’d spend so much time after work watching those stupid shows, and reading those stupid stories, and when he was done with that, he couldn’t find the time to clean his own room.

Because he was cleaning the kitchen, the living room, the bathrooms, the…

I stopped myself there. I kept on forgetting how much he had done for us because of one damn mistake! I never told him that it was alright. That he didn’t have to keep on beating himself up because of something that didn’t matter now. I hate the fact that I let him hurt that badly.

I sat on his bed and picked up one of his figurines. A regular horse… well, regular being relative when you’re talking about cartoon horses that can be almost every color and horns and wings. She had a few apples on it’s butt, with them tramp stamps or whatever their called. She wore a Stetson hat, and I remember a bit about her from what Jerry told me about her. Applejack, like the cereal. Owned an apple orchard, almost as redneck as I am, as he said it.

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I’m guessing he was trying to say she worked hard. If a show said that being a hard working blue collar man is a good thing, then God bless them for passing that down to the next generation. More folks who know how to work a drill without putting a hole through the floor the better.

But I’d trade them all just so I can have my boy.

/////////////////////////

Bloody, Fat Ass, and me walked into a bar, with Bloody holding onto two nicely filled sacks of caps. I wanted to hold them myself, but she didn’t like that very much. She said that The Boss was the only one to hold onto her sacks. Don’t know why she slapped me when I repeated that to her. I was only making sure I got it right. Fat Ass didn’t stop laughing till we got to The Cider House. Still trying to figure out what was funny.

I love the guy, but sometimes he’s kind of a jack off. We continued to walk through the dark, musky bar, and noticed that it was pretty busy. Folks all around, some were merc’s like us, others where locals who wanted to hear about far off massacres and how crappy life was in other places so they can appreciate their little slice of crap pie. Then, there was my buddy Wise Ass, but most folks just called him Golden Script.

He was older than us by a few years, but the way that he worried, he seemed to age a bit qucker than the rest of us. I guess when you’re trying to stay in one place, not get noticed and all that, you just start falling apart.

“Hey, Jew. Steal any caps lately?” Fat Ass asked as he walked over and sat next to Golden Script at the table he was sitting at. Script was wearing his yamaka and nursing a bottle of hard cider as he looked up at Fat Ass with a little bit more than a little disdain.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing, especially after what I heard about the Faux Plasma Pistols.” Script lifted the bottle up with his hoof and took a drink.

“Hey! How was I supposed to know they were just repurposed Coolers? And it’s not like they didn’t work… just not in the way they were meant to.”

“How did you use sex toys as Plasma Pistols?” I had to ask. Who knows? Maybe I could get Sunday one.

Fat Ass smiled as he turned back to me. “Good question, Dumb Ass! Just so happens that there is a little enchantment that you do that-“Golden Script cleared his throat, cutting Fat Ass off as he looked at us.

“I respect your sense of curiosity, Dumb Ass, but I highly doubt that you should encourage our venture capitalist further.” Golden Script said, raising an eyebrow to Fat Ass as he noticed that he still had a smile on his face. “You alright, Lard Butt? You look a bit more out of it than usual.”

Fat Ass’ face contorted, like he was surprised to be seen with the smile, then changed his lips to a smirk as he leaned away from Golden Script to order a drink. “Bite me, Jew.”

“I would, but Judaism has the whole ‘Don’t eat pig’ thing. But your welcomed to try and blow me.” Golden Script said in a very smooth manner, like how the Boss talks when she is trying to explain to Sunburn that you can’t use a sledge hammer to open canned goods.

“What is wrong with you, Rabbi Tuck-a-man? You switching over to being a colt-cuddler all of a sudden?”

“Nope. Simple mistake, really. Your man-tits made you look like a woman. Besides, for all intents and purposes, your dick is legally dead. No evidence of it’s existence means that you are a male in name only.”

I miss this. Having the guys around and joking, having fun. I couldn’t help but smile at the banter as Sunday sat next to me at the bar. “So… how about if I get you a drink? Things have been crazy the last few days.” She seemed like she was stepping on eggshells, not wanting to bring “that” up. It’s kind of nice.

“Yeah… especially with Jerry appearing and all that…”

Golden Script stopped his insult in mid-sentence and looked at me and Sunday, an eyebrow raised. “Jerry wouldn’t happen to be a human, would he?”

I smiled back at Golden Script as I nodded. “Yeah. He showed up at our current place not too long ago. He’s got a string of luck that is mind boggling. According to him, he’s from another world that isn’t connected to The Wastes. Weird guy. Not the bad kind of weird, the good kind.”

“Did he, by any chance, have a unicorn filly that he was looking after?” Golden Script asked.

“Well, not when he first showed up. He, sort of got kidnapped by Bad Dreams on his first day working for us. Then, something blew up, we killed a few guys, Jerry rode a Sentry Bot, and then crushed a Night Mare under rubble. Then he freed the kid, and by what the Boss said, she was going to be killed by the rotten whores. She couldn’t stay away from him till now.” I explained as I was given a strange look by Golden Script. I looked over at Sunday, confused. “Did I say something wrong? I don’t think I said anything anti-septic on accident... like last time, when I accidentally said you where-“

“Hey, Dumbass, calm down. You didn’t upset him.” Fat Ass reassured me as he rolled his eyes. He then turned to Golden Script. “What’s on your mind, Jew Boy?”

Golden Script smiled as he turned back to us. “Nah… nothing bad.” He had that look on his face. Like he had a lot on his mind… or he has gas. Kind of hard to tell the difference at times.

I didn’t say anything as I looked at the bottle in front of me. I took a sip of the cider in the bottle, and noticed it was the regular kind. I looked over at Sunday who didn’t even bother sipping her bottle. She was eyeing everyone else’s hard cider, like how Jerry looked at those Fancy Lads the other day. I patted her on her hoof that was resting on the table, just trying to be a good friend. She looked at me, blinking. Then she pulled her hoof away, and then turned away from me.

It’s official. I’ll never understand mares.

///////////////////

I stirred awake, feeling something on my lap as I remembered bits and pieces of what had happened with Discord and… Discord… and Discord?

Damn, my brain hurts.

The first thing I notice is that the thing on my lap was furry, and taking deep breaths. Too big to be Rachel. Too small to be Flure. Wait, why would Flure be on my lap? Never mind, focus.

“Ragdoll?” I mutter as my eyes open up. “Why are you on my lap?”

She continues to sit on my lap, looking away like she was a statue. “Uh… huh… good question… Um…” She continued to stumble around with her words for a bit longer before she looked down, then looked over her shoulder. “Discord made me do it?”

Oh, crap. She knows?

“Yep.” Discord said, stifling a giggle as he appears in my vision.

“Shut up, Discord.” I mutter out loud as I hold onto the back of my head, nursing the welt that was forming.

“What did he say?” Ragdoll looked up at me nervously, still on my lap. She looked downright adorable.

Oh, Dear Lord, please not now…

“Uh... Yep.”

She blinked a bit, then climbed off my lap as I saw a bit of a blush on her cheeks. “G-good. Was thinking he’d go and tell you a few lies.”

“Oh, she’d be the one to lie, especially after she fondled your backside.” Discord said with both hands covering his mouth as he did his best not to laugh.

“You touched my butt!?”

“I did not! He is lying!”

“She felt you up, then sat on your lap. I had to make sure she didn’t do anything unsavory.”

“YOU TOUCHED MY BUTT!” I think I’m livid, and honored at the same time. Never been the target of groping before.

“No, I was testing something out!”

“See? She was experimenting with your body!” Discord said with a chuckle.

“Look at your Pip Boy and look under perks!” Ragdoll sounded like she was begging me. I kept my eyes on her till I looked at the screen labeled “perks”, and right there was Head-on Assault, with an odd little description on it.

I couldn’t help but poke my chest, noticing how firm it was, then to my back. The difference between the two was… surprising. And disturbing. “Discord, why didn’t I get to choose the perks?”

“One of the perks of being an OS.” And he pointed to another perk that was highlighted and named “Second Opinion” “If I view something needs to be changed, I do what I can to change it.” Discord explained as he pulled out a game controller. “Besides, you’d pick all the boring ones with cool sounding names.”

“What did he say?” Ragdoll asked.

I groaned as my face got reacquainted to the palm of my hand. “Short version is that I’m dumb and he’s smart.” I noticed the other perk, “Unlikely Allies”, and I could feel the blood leave my face.

“… I didn’t choose that one, if you’re wondering.” Discord sounded a bit more serious. “Major disadvantage of this line of self-growth is that sometimes other forces are putting their fingers into what’s going on. You might be able to make a few choices here and there, but don’t count on it.”

My brain freezes as I consider what is going on. Someone else… something else could be manipulating what is going on with me. I don’t like that. Does that also mean that Fluer and the others were planted where they were to meet up with me? Maybe all of this could be staged. But then, in a way it is.

“Ragdoll… have you ever thought about how God does things?” I couldn’t help myself as I found myself look up into the grey and blue sky.

Ragdoll looked at me, then up to where I was looking, as though as if I had seen God on a cloud or something. “hmm… I don’t tend to think about any kind of god, really. Too much going on down here to worry about what’s going on up there.”

I sighed as I closed my eyes. “Yeah… I could understand that. Just that… I read something made by an author. He said that stories are ways to understand the world around us, and that the struggles of the protagonists tend to be ways for the author to either shed light on the world to show what is wrong or what is right with it, or to give folks an example of what should be or shouldn’t be done.”

“You’re talking about predestination, aren’t you? I mean, you’re saying it in a rather roundabout way. I think that’s called predestination.”

“That’s the word for it? Huh… well, I learned something new. My point is, what if me meeting you guys and all that was to… you know… help people out? That God… or whatever is pulling the strings in this situation… is setting things up for us.”

Ragdoll looked like she was thinking it over, her eyes moving like she was scanning over an unseen chart. “I can see your point. I’m not going to agree fully, but I won’t dismiss it. I’ll need to think it over a bit more.”

I smiled down at Ragdoll. “Your awesome, Ragdoll. Don’t let anyone else tell you differently.” Not very often where folks actually listen to my ramblings and take me seriously. It’s nice.

As we walked about, I sighed happily as I looked around Buck’et Town. I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t believe how well built it was for what it was. I mean, buildings that actually looked like buildings, not just metal sheds held up by duct tape, twine and spit over some already existing ruins. Thought went into every inch of this place, not born out of desperation, but out of something else. Maybe I need to find out more about this place. There could be a lot more to it than meets the eyes.

Like a stallion that looks like Keanu Reeves eating an apple while talking with another familiar face.

Oh, crap baskets.

////////////////////////////////////

I’ve never seen Jerry’s emotions change so quickly. One moment, he’s happy, the next, he’s looking over at a couple that are busy chatting, a look of anger and fear written over his face. His body became rigid and ready. I wasn’t sure what was going on till I looked at the mare his eyes were locked on. She had a off-white coat, but it looked like she had dyed it and had just washed whatever it was that covered her off. Her mark was a loaded gun over a crescent moon.

The stallion looked at us, and the look in his eyes was that of terror as he looked around the alleyway.

Oh, my, I think I know who these guys are.

“Nightshade, it’s the fat human from the other day!”

The mare looked back, and as I was about to look over at Jerry, I felt his arms wrap around my barrel and pick me up, slinging me onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I looked on, facing behind us as Jerry moved surprisingly fast away from the two, who began to chase after us.

“Jerry, the hell!?”

He didn’t answer me as his free hand grabbed hold of trashbins to tip over to slow the two down.

“Hey! Fat Boy! Slow your ass down!” The mare, Nightshade, almost yelled as she looked at us. It wasn’t a glare, but it wasn’t exactly a happy look.

“Runningrunningrunningrunning-“ I could hear Jerry mutter under his breath. How the hell is he able to keep this up!?

I looked back just in time to see several of the trash bins and other items floating in the air. About… fifteen… no, twenty items in all.

And a lot of them where sharp, and pointed at us!

“Keeprunningkeeprunningkeeprunning…”

Where was that coming fro- Oh, right, that’s me.

Another thing I forgot was that I have a gun in my…

Where’s my bag and holster?

I look back and see that one of the items floating around is… my bag, with my gun still in its holster.

Shit.

Several pieces of trash are sent at us through the air, and I squirm to make Jerry swerve right, narrowly dodging a bottle that shatters against a wall.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou…” Jerry thanked/screamed as he realized how close he was to getting hit.

Damn it, Jerry. “Focusfocusfocus-“

What the hell is he making me say!? Wait… what if Discord has something to do with-

CRASH!

“OW, MY ASS!” an unknown stallion said as another bottle was thrown and shattered against his flank, embedding some shards into his mark.

I can almost hear that bastard spirit laughing from here. As we continue to make our escape, I look back and see Nightshade running after us still as her stallion follows close behind her, carrying a large two-by-four in his mouth, both looking like they are waiting for something. As I am about to tell Jerry, I feel him jump up. As I look down, I see a fat, bald stallion as Jerry sails over him.

He and I share a look that shares the same look of surprise and utter shock, both which are replaced by a twist of disbelief as I feel Jerry land and duck under a Pegasus stallion… well, most of him. The stallion manages to slam one of his knee’s right into Jerry’s face, making him stumble as he tries to recover, only to slam into the door of a bar. Before he landed on his back, he managed to pull me against his chest and braced for impact.

“ow…”

“What the fuck was that!?”

“Hey, that’s Jerry and Ragdoll!”

“Oh, shit… REALLY!? YOU GUYS AGAIN!”

I tried to struggle out from Jerry’s grasp, but after realizing that he wasn’t budging, I just gave in and waited for things to die down. “Damn it, Jerry… we’ve really got to give you a helmet or something.”

////////////////////////////

I was starting to enjoy myself.

I know I’m here for Dumb Ass and his friends, but I really wanted to leave once they started to get into some of the better booze. Well, Dumb Ass didn’t partake, but the others didn’t hold off on my account. As Fat Ass started to down his seventh shot of whiskey, I was on the edge of giving in. Hell, my left rear leg was twitching.

That was till the door bust open.

I turned around and saw Jerry, holding onto Ragdoll as he tumbled into the bar. He landed hard on his back, and I saw Ragdoll struggling to get out of his grasp.

“Ow…” Golden Script said with a wince as he saw what was going on.

“What the fuck was that!?” Fat Ass said as he looked at the two tumble inside.

“Hey, that’s Jerry and Ragdoll!” Dumb Ass said as though as if it was the twist ending to a mystery novel. At that time, I saw four figures walk into the bar, and I focused my sights on the only mare of the group.

Her eyes where still a bit bloodshot, but a lot of the coloring in her eyes had improved… or she was using a very advanced illusion spell. Her coat wasn’t the same color, but I could see the remnants of her dyes and blood still on her. The biggest change was her teeth. They were flattened like a regular pony’s teeth.

“Oh, shit. It’s YOU guys again!” I moaned out as I couldn’t help but bring my revolver out, aiming at Night Shade.

She looked at me, then Dumb Ass, then finally down to Jerry and Ragdoll. She smiled as she sat down slowly onto the ground. “It’s nice to see you… I was actually wanting to chat with the Fat one abo-“

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t know where she and her asshole of a boss are from!” Fat Ass said as he looked over at the other side of the… Wait a second.

“Fat Ass, how the hell did you get back there so quickly?” I hissed at him as I looked back at the other side of the bar at him as he held his gun awkwardly in his teeth.

“Bitch, I do what I want, that’s how.”

“Focus, people!” Golden Script yelled as he held a full bottle of whiskey in his mouth. We all returned to look back at the ex-Bad Dreams in front of us, as the rest of the denizens began to bring out their own weapons, aimed mostly at the Bad Dreams. “And Damn it, Jasper! Don’t point that blasted pea shooter at me! You know I’ll tell your father!”

“Sorry, Rabbi…. Got caught up in the moment.”

Nightshade smirked as she looked at us. “Loooook, we’ll put our weapons down, and we can use our mouths to settle the problem.”

“Beware the truck-stop bathroom ashtray, Sunday….” I heard Jerry moan as he seemed to regain what little sense the human had. Nightshade made no comment on Jerry’s words as Jerry sat up. It didn’t take long for Nightshade to set all the floating garbage down as she kept her eyes on everyone else.

Ragdoll was let go from Jerry’s grasp as Jerry sat there, looking up at Night Shade. She stared back at him, glaring. “I’d look away if I were you, boy.”

“Shut it. I don’t want to hear your voice, you… you…” Jerry slowly stood up, his eyes glued on Night Shade. “I can’t think of a word that could even begin to describe someone as loathsome as you. You left your daughter in those monster’s care!”

Night Shade simply allowed Jerry to speak, her face now blank of all emotions save for mild interest.

“If I wasn’t captured, if The Boss and the others didn’t come and save me, your daughter would have been killed! And now, your standing around this place, chasing after me like I stole something from your worthless flanks!” Jerry’s voice started out strong, filled with wrath, but as he continued, it seemed to die down to sadness. “How could you even allow your kids… HOW COULD YOU!”

Night Shade took a deep breath, closing her eyes before sighing, seemingly happy. “So, you saved Dawn Threader. Good. Almost thought that she’d be dead. That’s all I wanted to know.” She turned around and began to leave, only for Jerry to lunge forward.

“YOU DIDN’T ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!” His body was engulfed in a pink aura as The Boss walked into the bar, blocking Night Shade and her goons.

Everyone stood there, most of us just frozen with disbelief over what happened, the only noises being heard was Jerry cursing (or at least his brand of it) as he was lifted up into the air, thrashing about, as the former Bad Dreams looked into The Boss’ face.

The Boss didn’t waste any more time, stepping to the side as she kept her eyes on Jerry. “Get out.” Her voice cut through the air, silencing Jerry, and allowing the small gang of ruffians an exit. She walked forward to a large table, and sat down, forcing Jerry to do the same, her aura still around his wrists as everyone slowly returned to their tables.

“Why?” Jerry’s voice cracked as tears started to run down his cheeks.

“Because I’ve seen enough good men die. You kill because of anger, and that goodness inside of you dies, sometimes slowly, other times as soon as you pull the trigger. Besides… would you be able to look into Rachel’s eyes if you did hurt Night Shade?” Every word hit Jerry as good as any blow could, making more and more tears drip down his cheeks.

“Geeeze, what a pussy.” Fat Ass said under his breath as he made his way over the bar, a few hoofful of caps miraculously making its way into his pocket. Without even thinking, two sets of hooves smacked Fat Ass in the back of his head as a half-eaten apple flew through the air and smacked him on the snout. Then, all at once, Dumbass, Golden Script and I said in unison one more thing.

“Shut up, Fat Ass.”

///////////////////////

I feel horrible.

Like everything happy I had recently was sucked out of me by a big, giant happiness leech who proceeded to make me pay him for the experience by threatening to pants me in front of my friends and family. In short, I am emotionally beat.

I sat at the table, Flure’s magic lifting off of me as I slump in my chair. I order the hardest thing I felt like drinking, a bottle of apple cider, and just chugged the thing down. It tasted great. Like a regular apple cider, except with just a bit more hit to it. Sunday, Ragdoll and DA sat next to me as they joined in.

I’m not sure why I feel this way. For all intents and purposes, I should be happy, or at least at peace. For what I can tell, Night Shade is going to leave Rebecca be. I guess she knows that she didn’t have a chance at getting any information from me, or that if she did anything, that the guys would tear into here like a fire hose through rice paper.

I felt like something BIG was going to happen. Maybe not today, maybe not even this year, but I just felt…

Felt…

“Fat Ass, don’t you fucking dare!” Sunday almost yelled. I looked up, looking at her, confused what she was angry at me for. Before I could say anything, I noticed that she was glaring behind me. I looked back and saw a red coated fat pony with what looked like a bucket.

With no warning, he dumps the contents of the bucket (Some kind of beer, I think) over my head, soaking my clothes. He had a look in his eyes that had a mixture of sadistic glee and begins to laugh hard as Golden Script sighed, and D.A. looked nervously at me.

I sit there, covered in beer and anger, and come to a conclusion.

“Son of a bitch is going to pay.” I grab hold of the pony that I’m going to call Cartman, because he gets on my nerves and I can just smell the jerk on him, and pick him up onto his back hooves. I pull my balled-up hand and, in one solid motion… smack my fist into a serving tray! Of course, the tray still smacked Cartman-pony across the table, but I think after FEELING the crack of a few bones, I knew that I was the loser of this little scuffle.

I looked at my hand for the longest time, no noise coming out of my mouth as I stood there, my mouth and eyes wide open as the look of utter pain MUST have been drawn on my face. Rag Doll was the first to break the silence at the table. “Uh… Jerry? Are you alright?”

Diagnostics check:

Brain: Scrambled with anger.

Face: Still recovering from Pegasus encounter with his knee.

Left butt cheek: Numb from sitting down on uncomfortable bar chair.

Fist: Broken from being a dumb, angry, fat American that currently smells musty.

Outcome:

“Ow.” Was all I could say before I found myself curled up in a ball as I held out my hand.

Cartman guffawed as he stood up and looked at my hand. “Serves you right, Butters.”

…. Okay… No.

I stand back up and am about to just jump right back at him when my broken hand is levitated up and holds me in place. I look up and see Sunday’s magic aura at work, then looked down to see an angry Sunday.

Folks… I almost soiled myself. Ever seen an anime or a show where the most intimidating person appears, and you can taste, just absolutely TASTE their anger?

Sunday’s tasted like angry hot fudge, pain sprinkles and kicked nuts! I was just glad that her eyes where focused on Cartman. That fact did not make me feel any better as I felt her setting the bone with a sickening pop, and a lesser pin of pain as a stim-pac was stuck into my arm. A harsh warmth washed over the area that was just numbed by my injury, and quickly eased away as I felt my hand be healed.

“You have NO right to act that way, Fat Ass!” Sunday fumed.

“Y-yes ma’am….” I and Cartman said as we focused on not dying.

Sunday smacked her face with her hoof as D.A. stepped forward, and stood between us. “Look, Jerry… just calm down, for us, okay?”

I looked at D.A., then back at Sunday, keeping my eyes off Cartmen as best as I could. As I took a deep breath, my hand was released and I decided to get outside. I didn’t trust myself to stay with that guy. Ragdoll followed close by me as I leaned against the outside of the saloon… bar… whatever. My eyes where stuck on the building in front of me, counting the planks of wood making up the sidewalk/porch in front of it and it’s neighbors.

“You know… talking helps a lot more than punching… especially in your case.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that as I looked down at my hand, shaking my head a bit as I clenched my fist open and closed.

“You know… havn’t even been here a full week, and I know that if it wasn’t for you guys, I’d be hating every second of it… well, I’d be dead, but I digress.” I start to say as I look down at an interesting rock on the ground. “But then, I look at how things are going now… and I just feel helpless. Everything I do just feels like it could be done by some other shlub. It’s like a badly written self-insert character in a fan fiction. If something happens where everything hinges on me, I’ll feel like a tool. If I just die at the end of all this, I’ll feel like a MEGA tool. Turn into a bad guy? Evil tool. Become some kind of messiah? Righteous tool. If I don’t do anything? I’m an ass tool. Is there anything that I am doing that is what I want? Am I the player, or the avatar? Do I actually, in the big scheme of things, mean anything?”

I stood there, looking down at the ground with silence around me. Then I heard it.

“Bullcrap.”Ragdoll said.

What?

“You heard me, fat boy. Bull crap. A whole load of it. I don’t blame you, Jerry, it’s just how things go with boys like you. Existential crisis this, moral quandary that. A bunch of selfish bull crap, probably pushed down your throat about how to actually be a complex character and all that… You think that asking those questions make you deep, or make you a special snowflake. They don’t. People who were in lot less amazing situations ask themselves the same damn questions for centuries. Some of them even got paid for it. Good for when you’ve got free time, or when your just exercising your brain, but when your hurting yourself with it?” She smirked as she hit my leg. “You want someone to beat the crap out of you, I’ll do it myself. I’ll even do it for free.”

I looked at Rag Doll for a while, and my smile grew a bit easier.

She had a point. I worry about these things now, right at the beginning of everything, and I’d just end up worried about making decisions. If I’m afraid of making decisions, then nothing will get done. I’m not trying to be a hero, but if given the chance, I can be. If something IS manipulating me through the Pip Boy, then I’ll show them that it’s my life. Hell, the only one who has any right to tell me how to live my life is God himself, and I don’t see him throwing scrolls at me to do his bidding.

As I looked up, a scroll hit me in the face, and into my hands. I looked up and saw what I thought was a gryphon in a tan robe looking down at me with one of the craziest stare downs I have ever gotten.

“Jerry Stine, you have been chosen.” As he said that, he turned and began to walk.

“What the…? Hey, buddy, what the heck is this?” I ask, only for the griffon to ignore me. I looked down and opened the letter, and began to read.

“Dear Jerry Stine,

As this letter reaches you, you and your friends have been observed by The Children of Metal. We are in need of your teams assistance, as we are at an impasse. The quest we ask you to proceed on is one fraught with terrors and the unknown, but if your team completes it, you will be handsomely rewarded. If you wish to continue on this journey, meet us at the Museum of Technology in the ruins of Dodge Junction. We will only allow you to bring with you four members of your group. The Twins, the sniper and the brute. Their abilities and your own skills are what are needed.

We repeat… do not bring with you your mistress, the lovers and the child. They will only complicate matters. We will expect you and yours to come within the week, where further instructions are to be given.

Signed in iron and blood,

Padre Rustbeak” I chuckled a bit to myself as I looked back up at Ragdoll, the smile I had evaporating as I saw the murderous look in her eyes. “Uh… Raggity Anne? You alright there?”

Oh, hell, why did I say that?

She locked eyes with me, and my world became filled with rage and red, a fear snaking up my back as I looked at her. Alright… being mentally torn apart and put back together is… not pleasant, but I’d rather have that happen to me as opposed to be on the receiving end of Ragdoll’s wrath! Bar none, scariest thing I’ve seen in… Oh, hell!

She just bucked a nearby iron beam! It’s just… Hoof shaped hole! In steel! I didn’t even notice her run at it!

She pants, still angry as she is facing me. After a few seconds, she recovers, and I notice that she isn’t standing on the leg that was responsible for punching the hole out of the metal pole. “Uh… Ragdoll? Are… are you….”

“No, I’m not fucking alright, I just messed up one of my legs. Muscle almost torn. Small, but still not feeling good. I’ll be limping for a while, and I’m not going to be-“

I could tell she was so upset about what happened that she’d continue yammering for a good long while. I roll my eyes and, as gently as I can, pick her up and carry her on my back. She’s a solidly built mare, I can tell you. I’m kind of surprised that she is as strong as she is, but that could be something else. As I got her situated, the scroll sticking out of my pocket as I saw D.A. and Sunday exit after me. I give them a halfhearted smile as we began to walk to where The Boss told us to go to.

I’m surprised they didn’t ask about why Ragdoll is on my-

“Let me guess… someone called you a kid again?” Sunday said with a smirk.

“And fuck you too, sis.” Ragdoll said with a saccharine smile.

“I’d pay a few caps for that!” D.A. said with a joking chuckle.

*Thwack, Thwack, Donk*

“Shutting up…”

Ah, that feels about right.

I’ll be honest, I don’t know if Fleur… the Boss… will go with this mission-dealie I was given. But, then again, I can’t say no to caps right now. It would be very stupid of me if I did. I keep my stuff clean, take care of myself and do some real easy jobs, and I’ll be quite in the black when I collect the caps. Use the caps to take care of Rebecca and maybe even find out if there is a way out of here. Take everyone back to Earth. I can trust them to look after me. I know that if I can get out of here, I can bring them with me.

I KNOW it…

I mean, I think…

Well, I hope…

….

Hey, Discord, you can add in your two cents any time now! You know… make fun of my fat butt. Call me an idiot. You know, the stuff you’ve been doing to me since I got you on my hand.

“Wha..? Oh, sorry about that, my rotund compadre, just was thinking of, like, two hundred thousand other things I could be doing right now instead of listening to you complain. You know… if I had my own bod-“ He paused as a glint in his eyes came and went, and he smiled at me. “Oh, Jerry… just so you know, I’m going to be doing some… work. All you’ve got to know is that for the next couple of weeks, your dreams are going to be a touch odd.” He said that with a smile. Before I could say anything, he summoned a door with a disembodied claw, set it just out of my sight, and opened it. The only thing I could see was the words “Avatar at work” before he stepped in and closed it behind himself.

Why am I suddenly afraid for my life?

////////////////////////

Black Tar had been running since her group was routed. Her lungs burned, her mind raced, and her legs felt like they were tearing themselves apart, but she kept on running.

The Witch. The damn witch tricked her and her partner. Those two cretins did, too. But the worst offender… That fat bastard! Thinking about that idiot made her blood boil, almost tripping her up mid stride. She wanted to snarl at him, but she knew better. She couldn’t kill, not with how things went near the end. She knew that she could kill those three by herself, as long as Vortex lived. Vortex was so much more capable with magic than she was. It was a fricking miracle she survived by herself for so long. Being tossed around those lunkheads, birthing foals. Once Vortex came, she was stronger. She was the one who chose who she would bed. She was the one who did the tossing. And she was more than willing to please Vortex when she wanted her. She even put up with Night Shade when she joined in with her troop.

Tar and Vortex went through the motions of being Night Mares. Took the oaths, drank that sickening brew. Took the damn mark. Even gave Brother Blood the life blood of every victim… save for that fat bastard!

She finally snarled at the imagined figure of that human that had tricked her into making him crush Vortex. She hated him more than anyone else in that damn group! Even the Witch took a back seat as she was, at least, strong! That freak, that human cretin was just damn lucky! She’d kill him. Screw everything else, she’d find a way to kill that bastard! The freak that took everything from her!

As she vented, Tar tripped over her own hooves, careening into a steep incline that made her tumble head over tail down. She felt rocks hit into her, jostling her about, till she slammed, muzzle first, into the ground. She didn’t know how long she was dazed, but as she opened her eyes, she swore she saw a figure setting up a tent in front of her, as though as if she wasn’t there, or she was just walking by. Before long, she swore she saw the figure being swallowed up by the tent itself.

As soon as the bloat parasprites stopped dancing in her vision, she sat up carefully. She looked at the tent, noticing that it was large, about the size of a small house.

How did she not notice such a thing, out in the wastes? No buildings, no ruins, no settlements. Just dust, death and decay in all points. Yet here, in front of her, was this drab tent that begged her to enter. As she walked, limping slightly as she came forward, she smelt something cooking, seasoned well, but she couldn’t place what it was. As she walked through the entrance, she felt that familiar tendrils of… him.

It was unnaturally dark inside the tent, and she knew why.

“I… I didn’t kill her!” She screamed into the darkness as a figure walked forward.

It was him. Brother Blood stood tall, far taller than even the tent should have allowed, looking down at Tar with an appraising look. He was not happy with what he was looking at.

Black tendrils surrounded Tar and lifted her up into the air, up to Brother Blood’s face. The skeletal face had pale skin hanging from it, his eyes a dark crimson with black pupils as she shivered and tried to shriek in terror. Nothing came out save for the indecent moans from centuries past, from others like her that served him.

“Vortex… her body was destroyed, correct?” Brother Blood said, his eyes locked onto hers. She didn’t bother to fight the dark voice ringing through her mind.

“Yes… the Fat Man did it.” Tar said, her voice assisted with the vile sounds filling her mouth. “Crushed her with rubble.”

Brother Blood simply smiled as one of his numerous hands appeared from the darkness, and petted her cheek. “It was truly for the best, my dear…” He cooed and hissed as he came forward. Her terror died down as she felt something deep inside her burn.

At first, she thought it was simply her exhaustion getting the better of her, till she felt the darkness slowly letting up around her and Brother Blood.

The tent was no more, as she and her master were standing in the center of a large theater. In the audience where followers of Brother Blood. Bad Dreams only made a small portion of the audience, as there were mutants, both human and minotaur, and several changeling queens and others. On the stage, he was suspended like a marionette, his several hands floating freely as his body, looking like black and red satin sheets melting into darkness, trailed to the floor.

“Brothers and Sisters! The wastes of our once great realm has claimed one more of our kin!”

Lamentations and cries came from the audience as Tar was tossed about, being held up as she saw on the walls of the theater ponies, humans and diamond dogs being flayed and cooked for the theater goers. Her eyes closed as she felt the burning claw up her throat. She wished to cry out, but was stopped by the burning itself.

“Do not fear, my friends! Our dear Vortex, one of our most honored followers, will not taste death for too long! For you see, she had partaken in one of our most intimate of rites! The Rite of Bonding! Two made into one! Her lover is here to stand, and show her the way back to us! Please, Tar! Light the way for our dear Vortex!”

Fire, pain, heat exploded from Tar’s body. Every inch of her became a magical pyre. In the center of it all was hate. The hate of losing her comfort. The hate of being thrown into the wastes alone. And shining the brightest was the hate of that man. Her lips curled up into a horrid grin as she felt her mind being pulled aside as it was caressed, then pulled into another mind. Her body was, at first, broken and pulled, but was rearranged, till nothing of Tar’s former body remained.

In her place was a taller, more attractive figure, not too different from Vortex, save for no false coloring. Her coat was pitch black, her mane a flowing ash cloud. Around her barrel were the well-made leather coat that flowed down her body. As she is put down, Brother Blood continued to coo and pet the long, ashen mane. “Please, my little Vortex… tell us what you’ve seen of the Blood Sea. Tell us of our great Benefactor!”

Vortex purred as she was released, standing on her hind legs as she looked at her body. The aura of her body covered her hooves and transformed them into hands. Her fingers curled as the flesh over them sparkled, making it look as though as if she was wearing gloves. “Our glorious Benefactor sends his praise for our work! Just our realm is responsible of curbing the encroachment of the Crimson King and the Lesser Evils onto our paradise! But we must remain steadfast. Continue harvesting! Continue our great work! When we finish with the Equestrian continent, we shall route out all other remnants from when we began so long ago. Then, we shall go back to that now nauseating life filled American wasteland, and finally finish them off from where they stand! With the combined powers of two worlds, we can spread out to the other realms! Overpower the evil out there, and supplant them with our ways!”

Her body flowed as she spoke, her forelegs showing an almost theatrical side to her voice. Her eyes glowed pearl white as she looked at the now fully captivated crowd. “We shall win! We shall be victorious! And we will be one with the Blood Sea once and for all!” Her voice was now a ravenous cascade of want, barely overpowered by the applause of the audience. Brother Blood grinned, his form diminished to stand next to her, now barely standing above her as his form now looked more like a man in his early forties, clothed in a black and red duster. His face was fuller, healthier than it was moments ago.

“Amazing… beautiful, my beloved, as always.” He whispered into her ear. “Do you hear me, my little Tar girl?”

Vortex turned, holding onto Brother Blood with a grin. “Oh, she does, my greatest love.”

“Good… you have done well. For such a small, pathetic thing, you have unlocked my lover’s true form. Be proud of that as your mind and soul watch on. Your hate will grow, and we will use it to do great things.” He whispers as he gives Vortex a passionate kiss, holding her close as the crowd applauds louder and revel in the show.

Backstage, two more figures stand, watching the show. One, a man wearing a power armor painted red with spikes as he snarled, his face half burned. The other, a hybrid unicorn wearing a blindfold as his fingers tightened around the handle of a sword driven into the floor, disinterested in the happenings on stage as though as if he was forced to be there.

“Useless…” the hybrid said as he growled.

“Fucking right… been thinking that once we get what we want, we just run.” The human said, his voice just as damaged as his face.

“How far do you think we will make it?” The hybrid asked as he turned to him. “We do not have the time to make a personal portal of our own… and with the Discord on this realm unaccounted for, who knows where we will end up.” He sighed as his grip tightened once more.

“Fuck…” The man said as he leaned against the wall, sighing as the two listened to the applause of the crowds. They both lowered their heads, shame, fear, anger all in equal parts on their faces as they felt magical chains tighten around them, reminding them of their place as the stage hands of Oblivion.