//------------------------------// // A few bugs and... // Story: Fallout Equestria : Northern Exposure // by Aponymetic //------------------------------// “Rise and shine, my little subject...” The jailor cheerfully greeted through the collar’s radio. “Today we begin our true work down here.” The diamond dog stretched his arms, still a bit groggy… he got used to sleeping into the cold floor, but it was still as uncomfortable as ever… not that he got much luxury into his cell… just four walls, a ceiling and a funnel-shaped furniture that he was instructed to use as urinal… apart from that, there was just a small ventilation hole into one of the walls… it was so little that not even a rat could crawl through it. “So, whatcha’ have for me, girl?” Fleabag stretched his arms. “First day of work, looking forward to get over with this and leave this stupid place forever.” “Yes, I am sure you are…” She retorted, displeased as ever. “Just chug your breakfast and we can get on with it.” And as soon as she spoke, one of the blocks from the ceiling opened, giving space to a tube that dropped some meat onto the floor, just like it did before every time that they wished to feed Fleabag. “Breakfast?” The diamond dog approached the small stack of meat. “It’s not like I can discern time down her, for all I know, might be afternoon, or even evening… why I’d take your word for it?” “You don’t have to, really, it doesn’t matter the slightest…” The jailor answered. “Just eat it.” “Another thing that had been bothering me…” The diamond dog eyed the food suspiciously. “Why do I have to eat it with my paws? Can’t I have a plate, a fork and knife? I believe that this propagates undeserved stereotypes toward my race.” “Fine, I’ll give you that one…” She voiced. “When you were all by yourself, on the wastes, did you happen to use a fork, knife and plate to eat your meals?” “That’s not the point here, what I mean is that…” “Quit yapping and eat your damn meal already!” The jailor angrily snapped. “For Celestia’s sake, you’re insupportably annoying…know that we had a lot of trouble to bring meat to feed you and the others.” “Fine, fine…” And Fleabag begun to stuff himself. “Others?” He spoke between a bite and another. “You mean there are more freaks down here?” “Thinking you’re special?” She began. “Not at all. We’ve got quite a few subjects around here, occupying this whole floor… each one assigned to its own scribe.” “So, you people have been jailing other creatures just for the kicks of it? That’s sick…” The diamond dog chewed on a bone that came along with the meat. “And here I thought that I couldn’t respect the steel rangers even less…” “If it gives you a sense of comfort, just half a dozen of them are like us, having any sort of sentience… and all of them are war prisoners” The jailor spoke. “Mostly of them, NCR personnel we could hold one during our… hasty departure. Though the great majority of our subjects are mutated animals and ghouls, the bunch of usual threats you’d find on the wastes… except that we can experiment with them and learn from their actions on a controlled environment.” “Okay, they’re war prisoners, I can tolerate that… probably saw it coming… mindless mutants, okay too… but the thing that bothers me…” Fleabag scratched his chin. “Is that I don’t fill on any of those categories… Why are you keeping me?” “Can’t you see it?” She asked. “You’re endangered species… we need to learn from you and safeguard you…” “Except for the whole fact that I never asked for this brand of… protection.” And the diamond dog finished chewing on his food. “There, finished the most important meal of the day, now unleash me…” “Good, let’s begin…” She voiced, the only door opening and giving passage to the outside.. “Be mindful that I still have control over you through the collar, so just do as I ask you.” “Never thought about doing anything apart from it…” Fleabag sarcastically remarked, walking out of his prison. Not that “outside” was much better, just a bigger prison, the lowest floor of a bunker, complete with rusted walls, grime tiles, copper pipes and smog among determined sections. “At your right, you shall find a locker containing some of your possessions.” The jailor informed. “It is imperative that you take them, they will be useful on the task ahead of you.” Fleabag just shook his head and walked to the designated locker, a small, rusted green locker… it was unlocked, and inside it, he was able to get his scrap armor and his baseball bat back. Nothing much to say about the two, the scrap armor being a rough mishmash of leather, fur ,metal rivets, and a cowl, it was custom-made by its owner to fit his own unusual frame without much hindrance, though it was not as protective as its ponycrafted counterpart... at least, it kept him warm. As to the baseball bat, it was a weapon that Fleabag carried with him since the beginning, just an ordinary bat made of oak that was his main weapon… After a while dressing up on his garb, Fleabag spent a few minutes waving his bat around, just to remind himself of the weight center of the weapon and the correct swing motion to get the most of it. “Now that you had your fun, we should really get on to running your assignments.” The jailor voiced, interrupting Fleabag’s thoughts. “Tell me, I am going to need to kill something, haven’t I?” Fleabag smiled wryly. “It is the bat that gives you the impression, doesn’t it?” She answered. “As a matter of fact, yes, you do… we need to collect data about your fighting style, don’t worry though… I know you spent a whole week locked up, your skills are bound to be a tad rusty, so we will start with something easy enough…” “What you have in mind for me?” The diamond dog eyed his bat with expectation… he enjoyed the thrill of combat, the adrenaline of the contest between two beings to best one another… “Nothing much, just eight bloatsprites for you to mop up with that bat of yours… they are probably buzzing around by now… since we already done all the research with those creatures, they are expendable enough to aid on researching you.” The jailor answered to the diamond dog. “Bloatsprites?” Fleabag’s face contorted to a bemused motion. “Don’t you think I might be a little bit of overkill against those things? I mean, they are hardly a challenge for a competent adventurer.” “That we shall see… just think of it as a way for us to check your skills in order to properly come up with future tasks.” She voiced through the collar. “Now get on to smacking hapless critters.” “Right away, miss…” The diamond dog waved his baseball bat ready and dashed through the corridors, longing for the rush of combat once again… The surroundings consisted of multiple corridors and a few clearings, without any access to the top floors… those might be located at the borders of the area… And after a while running through the long corridors, the dog finally caught the scent of his prey, a rotten mixture of mold and slime… the creature buzzed around, its disgusting body colored on a sickly green tone, with numerous round protuberances, detachable spines, uneven wings and dark beady eyes placed on an almost random fashion along it… the bloatsprite flied erratically, as if it was confused… A prime target for a smackdown, Fleabag thought. He approached the disoriented creature and struck his bat over the mutant’s body, pinning him against the bat and a wall, leaving nothing but a lifeless mass of pus. “One down, seven to go!” The diamond dog spoke, shaking his bat to clear off the creature’s matter from it. “Told you it was going to be a piece of cake.” “Don’t get too cocky, you were just lucky.” Fleabag’s jailor voiced. “Now look sharp, there’s more around…” As an answer to her, two more bloatsprites flanked the diamond dog… he pointed his bat to the one at his left, while keeping his eyes to the one at the right… Fleabag just needed an opportunity to strike a deadly blow at one of them, followed by a defensive stance in order to stand up to the second one. He propelled himself to the right, flinging his bat right onto the bloatfly’s direction… only to strike through the air, the actual creature having dodged the attack… the diamond dog was caught on his own wild swing through the place where the creature had been previously, giving the mutants an opening… The two bloatsprites screeched and launched their spines at the intruder, one of them striking Fleabag’s right arm, while the second projectile tore through his thigh, the pain sending the diamond dog on a frenzy… He recovered from the failed swing and struck the nearest mutant on an upright strike, sending the pus-filled ball flying away, proceeding to the second bloatsprite almost instantly. As the insect fired a second spine, Fleabag whirled his own body downwards; escaping the projectile… he reached out to the mutant and struck the squishy critter in a savage vertical swing, crumbling to the floor afterwards. Still aching a bit from the bloatsprites’ attack, he raised to his own feet… the closest critter was dead, while the one which was sent upwards was scrambling on the floor… the mutant had crash-landed, since Fleabag’s attack had crippled one of his wings, leaving the other one unable to sustain the bloatsprite’s body. The diamond dog wasted no time on smacking the harmless mutant. “Not too shabby, heh…” He voiced, letting out a loud groan while attempting to remove the spines struck into his body. “Those caught me off-guard; just you know…you’re distracting me” “Excuses, excuses…” She harshly retorted. “One ought to put the blame on ANYTHING but him… you see now what happens to those who are overconfident cunts…” “It’s just a slight wound… I’ll walk over it.” Fleabag discarded the retrieved spines. “five pests left…” “You may suck at fighting, but your math is flawless…” The jailor dryly remarked “Perhaps there is hope for you, after all…” “Shut your bucking piehole… you’re supposed to keep me out of harm’s way, not to be a beacon for those things…” The diamond dog whispered angrily. “Just keep it down…” “Okay, okay… I’ll toss you a bone and lower the volume…” She whispered back. “Happy now?” Instead of retorting the jailor’s banter, Fleabag focused on the task at hand. It was bad as it was; even without the jailor to nag him… a week of forced vacation had left him almost lethargic… he was supposed to be able to wipe critters like that without any problem. Heading into the eastern corridor and going forward as long as he could, Fleabag eventually hit a continuous wall that cordoned the whole area, the border of the current floor. He changed his course to the north, in order to scout his surroundings. “Cold, ice freezing cold…” The jailor spoke softly. “I assumed you were good at this…” As the canine neared the northeastern corner, his eyes were able to make out three more bloatsprites, floating around a stair set that led to the upper section. Bingo, the diamond thought with his buttons… he only needed to wipe out the pests before. There was no use on sneaking, since the combined sensorial perception of three bloatsprites could easily pick up a target as big as him, Fleabag knew that much well. Instead, he favored a blunt approach: yelling like a maniac and brandishing his bat menacingly. That attracted the mutants’ attention rather quickly, and soon enough they begun to launch their sharp spines toward the diamond dog. Due to the distance, he easily dodged the first wave of projectiles, taking advantage of the idle period that the bloatsprites needed before firing again… He closed the gap just in time to catch the nearest mutant sprouting a fresh spine, which he never had the opportunity to use. While Fleabag was busy disposing of that particular mutant, the other two launched their pronged projectiles upon him. The one aimed at the diamond dog’ leg ended up into the protective piece of leather armor placed over said limb, causing no harm… however, the second spine carved a grim wound between his neck and right shoulder. “Fucker!” Fleabag angrily mumbled. “That’s my swinging arm!” He raised the left arm and grabbed the closest bloatsprite, constraining the squishy critter between his digits… no matter how desperately it contorted to escape from the diamond dog’s grip, it was to no avail… his sheer force eventually overwhelmed the plumb body, shattering it and covering Fleabag with a coat of pus. Wiping off the fluid from his eyes, a nearby buzz reminded him about the third mutant… the bloatsprite used the interval to fly closer to the hound, preparing to fire its spine at point-blank. The bloatsprite had hesitated… the diamond dog had not. Using both of his hands to swing the bat, he bashed the flying mutant, sending it away with great speed before finding a rather hardy wall on its path… Fleabag shook off most of the pus and spent a good chunk of time retrieving the spine. “Not bad, not bad at all…” The jailor commented. “You seem particularly able to overcome disadvantageous situations and turn them to your favor… a trait much appreciated.” “Why?” He questioned, the wound aching in a world of pain. “So you can toss bigger creatures on me with a conscience discharge?” The prisoner sneered. “That’s not very nice of you, but then again… I shouldn’t expect anything nice from you, on the first place…” “Just so you know, the feeling is mutual.” She rambled “Your overall performance is borderline regular at best, deadbeat.” Paying no heed to her, Fleabag climbed the stairs… sure, they led to the upper floor, but a metallic door was blocking the path. “No way, Jose…” The bane of his life began its ceaseless prattling again. “Do you seriously believe we were stupid enough to not have that covered? That’s rather gullible of you, Fleabag… now go back down; there are still two pests around.” The diamond dog gave a good glance to the door before leaving: He had seen a few doors like that on his previous incursions, from the looks of it, this one underwent repair recently, as if something or someone broke it, during or before the period when the steel rangers moved in… sure, it was sturdy… impervious to any melee weapon and most firearms, although… an well-placed explosive powerful enough could quake the area, damaging the hinges supporting the door from the other side, while a melee weapon hitting the door after that could wobble the already damaged hinges out of place, making it possible for one to simply pull it and gain passage. However, it was unlikely that the steel rangers would supply their subjects with explosives, was it? The canine asked himself. After all, they ought to have learned something after witnessing how well did that worked out for the NCR and its prisoners… Besides, there was the collar to keep him on check, plus a whole retinue of steel rangers right behind that wall… “Fuck it…” Fleabag grumbled, deciding it was best to complete the task at hand… he walked away from the door and resumed the hunt. It wasn’t long until he stumbled on the last pair of mutants… not like they had anywhere to go. Now that he was already used to the surroundings, these ones weren’t much of a hassle: The diamond dog dashed onwards, using his feet to bounce on a nearby wall , getting enough momentum to shatter apart the nearest bloatsprite on a vicious blow, followed by a quick charge at the second one, disorienting the critter and allowing the diamond dog to trample it beneath his paws. “Very well…you seem to have gotten the hang of it.” She complemented as Fleabag busied himself shaking off the pus… it was a nightmare! Foul-smelling and of a viscous consistence, it cling to his fur… “I guess that’s enough for today… not so bad, eh?” The diamond dog was only half-heartedly listening, his attention at a big, circular-shaped door along the wall, around two feet from him… much alike the door that gave passage to his room. Chances are, that was another subject’s cell as well… Shoving such thoughts aside, he turned his attention back to the jailor. “So, what now?” He croaked a bit from the pain. “I just… go back to my cell?” “Actually, you don’t even need to…” The jailor answered him. “All subjects need to be treated properly so we can maximize their performance… meaning that your wounds will be treated and you will be properly groomed by the assigned caretakers… that treatment, a good night of sleep and two days of rest ought to make you brand new again.” “You mean that there are ponies that will bathe me?” Fleabag blushed heavily at the thought of that… a hot bath and several hooves rubbing him all over… “I… never asked for that.” “Too bad you’ll be too busy being knocked out to actually enjoy it…” She voiced. “Just a safety measure…” “Oh…” And the diamond dog regained his composure. “And what about these two days before giving me a new assignment? Do I really need to wait that long? This was quite… refreshing.” “You’ll need those two days in order to be fit…” The jailor retorted. “Besides, it’s…” “Protocol… yeah; your hooves are constrained in said regard.” He completed. “I don’t get it… why do I have to rot for two entire days?” “We need some time to clean your mess, and your wounds need a few days to heal properly… also, there are other subjects needing assignments besides you…” “Speaking of that… how well I did? I know that I didn’t exactly aced the whole thing, but you ought to give me a few points for…” The diamond dog couldn’t utter any other word after that, as a strange, irresistible wave of numbness and dormancy struck his neck, quickly spreading to the rest of his body as the sleeping powder traveled through his blood, knocking out the diamond dog. “I’d say that the best word to classify your performance today would be adequate.”