//------------------------------// // Risky Reunion // Story: Fallout Equestria: Cultivation // by LilithGalac //------------------------------// So… another review. I got a guide, met an alligator horse, lost my guide, met some zebras… And helped those zebras save their storage and last line of defence, some big-ass riverboat from before the war, kept afloat by a shield generator of zebran design. … It’s been a long day. Oh, and I found out the swamps I’m in apparently turn into a ghoul murder party during the day. An old zebra mare named The Way told me as much, while also telling me to meet her before I leave… I wonder what she wants to talk about. I’m sure I’ll find out- but first, the stallion I helped out with the generator wants to get me a meal, and considering how utterly famished I am… Well, I gotta take him up on THAT. “So, have you ever tried Zebran cuisine?” Traverse asks, as we head toward one of the other buildings in this small settlement. I shake my head, thinking back to the stable… I’ve only ever really had the same few fabricated meals my whole life. Beans, fried beans, refried beans, reheated refried beans, reconstituted reheated refried beans, hot dogs… The occasional steak if the scouts got lucky with hunting, mashed potatoes… Really, really boring stuff, if the old pre-war cookbooks in the library are anything to compare to. “Not that I can think of, no. I, uh… Don’t even know what zebran cuisine is, honestly.” I admit. Traverse gives me a funny look. “Like, food made by zebras. Y’know?” I hesitate, then laugh a little, looking away. “I-I know what cuisine is. Just… Not what zebras eat. My stable… didn’t really have a lot on zebras.” I admit. Traverse snorts as we step into the building- it looks kinda like the cafeteria back home, come to think of it. “Well, what did they have? Books on our art? Technology? Our history?” He asks, eagerly. I can tell he’s eager to know what ponies learn about zebras... “... You could say that.” I murmur, awkwardly- most of the writing on zebras were dry retellings of wartime events or weird, crusty books on their “savage ways”, which, well… Might be a little awkward to recite to a zebra. “... Anyway! Uh. What’s on the menu?” I ask, quickly pivoting away from that line of discussion. Traverse looks around, grinning proudly. “Well, we don’t have much, but those who came before us were smart enough to invest their time in healthy crops of rice and farms of chickens… They’ve gotten a bit irradiated over the years, but it mostly makes em juicier!” Traverse ushers me over to a seat at a rickety table, and approaches the food vendor, quickly speaking with him. I look around, at the zebras eating their meals- There are a few ponies here, too, but it’s mostly zebras. It’s odd, I expected them to… I dunno, act differently. I wasn’t sure WHAT to expect, based on the stuff I’d read, but it gave this weird idea of zebras being these wild, energetic hunter-gatherers… Yet if I closed my eyes I’d probably think I was just back in the cafeteria back home, save for the different scents of food. I’m startled back to attention by Traverse clattering a pair of metal bowls on the table, sitting across from me. Another zebra slides two battered metal cups with clean water in them onto the table for us. Looking down, I see my bowl filled with rice and chunks of chicken, all slathered with some… odd brown-green sauce. It looks… a little weird, but I’m willing to give it a shot. Traverse shovels food into his mouth quickly, but I try to take my time, wanting to appreciate the new food. The first few bites burn my tongue with spice- The most I ever got in the stable was a pinch of salt if I was doing good. Apparently we used to have tons of spices when mom and dad were younger, but after Teach started to cut down on scouting missions and resource-gathering we had to cut down on flavour. To think, I’ve been missing out on THIS for years! Once I’m done, I pat my stomach and let out a happy sigh. I haven’t eaten in… far too long, and it feels good to finally get some food in me. Traverse is watching me with a grin. “Glad you liked it. So…” He sits back, tilting his head. “Where are you heading again? To see Death Roll, right?” “Yeah.” I nod, taking a sip of my water and staring at the table. “I’ve heard basically nothing good about him, but I’m sure it’ll be fine… Mom always said to me that you can talk anyone out of anything if you just use the right words.” Traverse laughs, slipping out of his seat and gesturing for me to do the same. He leads me between the tables, heading outside. “Sounds like something The Way would say.” He quips. “Oh yeah, she wanted to see me before I left, she said she’d be by the entrance...” I murmur. Traverse nods, tapping a hoof on the ground. “I’ll take you, it’s this way.” He offers. As we step outside, I decide to ask a question I’ve been thinking of for a while. “... Why is her name The Way? I’ve never heard of someone who’s name starts with The. E-er, I hope that’s not rude.” I stammer, realising how that might sound. Traverse turns, giving me an unreadable look. “It’s something Way’s people did before the war. Her family decided to keep the tradition, I guess. It’s a name that describes her Mark. Seven Arrows Point The Way To Salvation is her full name. Er… guess she decided The Way would be a good shortening? Maybe she thought Salvation was a bit much.” He shrugged, snickering softly. “Zebra families all had their own ways of naming their kids. I’m called Traverse because my family thought I’d be some great explorer.” He snorted. “Bet they were surprised when I turned out to be an engineer… Ah well.” He shook his head, slowly leading me over the rickety bridges back to the entrance. “That’s really interesting… I, uh, don’t know why I’m called Seven-Ten Split, but hey, it fits my cutiemark, I guess.” I murmur. I’ve never put a lot of thought into my name, honestly. Dad’s name is Twisted Valve, he turns out to be an engineer. Mom’s name is Smoky Lounge, she was destined to be a lounge singer. Why do pony names always do that…? I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of The Way speaking to Traverse. I’d been following in silence for a few seconds, and hadn’t noticed we’d arrived-- I stop right before I bump right into Traverse as he greets the older mare. The gate itself, now that I’m seeing it with a more conscious eye, is pretty heavy-duty. The doors are wood, but they’re huge, mahogany things that were probably once the entryway to a mansion of some sort. They’ve been welded into heavy metal plating embedded into the ground beneath, and there are two watchtowers on either side with zebras overlooking the swamps outside sitting in them. “Ah, Seven-Ten Split. Good to see you.” The Way pulls my attention back to her, before looking up; my eyes follow hers, looking at the orange sky above. The sun is setting, and that means my time here is coming to a close. I look back down at the mare, and notice something odd… She has saddlebags with her. I look at Traverse, who is also looking at them, confused. “... Hm? Ah, these.” The Way chuckles as she notices our gaze. “Well, I decided that you should have a companion out there. Since you were separated from Icy, I suppose it’s only fair to let you have another guide, hm?” She says. I tilt my head, glancing at Traverse. “... Me?” He asks. The Way laughs, shaking our head. “No, no, we need our head engineer here keeping an eye on the boat. No, Split will be travelling with me.” She says, simply. Me and Traverse look at each other, then back at the mare. “Are you sure, Way?” Traverse asks. The Way scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I promise to you that I will be fine. I’ve got some life in me yet.” She pulls a bundle of fabric out of her bag and wraps it around herself- it’s a travelling cloak, of sorts. It almost looks kinda familiar… I’m not able to dwell on that though, as The Way hefts her saddlebags onto her back, nodding at me. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are, Split. The sun is low, the ghouls should not bother us.” She says, calmly. I nod, checking myself over- I haven’t left my water gun behind, thankfully, it’s still tucked into my jacket. It’s about half full, which is concerning… But I need to hold onto it. Aside from my jacket, it’s the only connection I have to my stable… Well, aside from my pip-buck, but I didn’t grow up with my pip-buck. And I’m not losing that unless I lose my whole leg, and I don’t plan on letting that happen any time soon. I realise with a start that I’ve been mulling over my thoughts for far too long, and the silence has gotten awkward. “E-er, uh. Yeah. I’m ready to go.” I say, simply. The Way nods, glancing at Traverse. “Let Heartbeat know that things are in his hooves for now, hm? I will return soon.” She says, turning and knocking on the gate with a hoof. I hear movement from above in one of the watchtowers, and the door slowly swings open, letting us through, back into the neon-lit swamp. And so I’m back… Icy might still be out here somewhere. And… again, my future involves a dude named Death Roll… “Mom, what are cutie marks?” “They’re… like, symbols of your destiny. Mine is a puff of smoke because... I’m good at crooning in smoke-filled clubs. Your dad’s is a busted valve because he’s good at fixing things.” “Why is mine a bowling one, though? That’s a boring destiny…” “It’s just what you’re best at, Split. Bowling is… er, an important skill. And if that’s what your cutie mark is, that’s what you’re destined to do.” “Says who? That sounds lame.” “... I wish I knew.” Things are pretty quiet for a few minutes as The Way and I walk into the swamps, leaving the calming sounds of the zebra settlement behind us. There’s not a lot of noise out here- a distant rasp, the sounds of water sloshing in the rivers around us, the faint jingling of glassware in The Way’s saddlebags. “... So, there are some things you should know about where we are going, Split.” The Way breaks the silence, staring firmly ahead. “Death Roll’s place, you mean?” I answer. The Way nods, letting out a weary sigh. “Ten Bit is sending you to your grave. She was always terrible with delegation.” The mare snorts, shaking her head. “Death Roll’s compound is fully within his control. Once you step inside, his word is law. If he declares that you are to die, then that is what shall be.” The Way continues. “... I’m just going to get some payment for something.” I say, simply. The Way stops, sighing lowly. “And you expect this payment to be given freely? No. Death Roll is not the type to pay for what he feels he is rightfully owed.” The Way scowls, picking up the pace again, leading me back through the trees. Across rickety bridges, through damp plantlife. “And what’s he even paying for?” I ask. There’s an uneasy silence for a few moments. “What else? Resources. It is hard to come by certain things out here. Nighttown sources those things, and sends them via courier into the swamps. Ten Bit receives payment for more resources with some profit on top, Death Roll receives resources to keep his home alive. Simple, hm? Until-” The Way is cut off as a horrid, retched scream rips through the underbrush. A raspy, howling sound that makes both of us recoil from the sheer sensory overload. I resist the urge to match it with a scream of my own, my legs shaking as I stagger back. “Someone has angered a ghoul!” The Way hisses, moving to grab me-- but as an image of Icy flashes in my mind, my stomach turns, and I dart around The Way’s protective hoof, charging off in the direction of the sound. I hear her shout my name, but I can’t stop. If I’ve gotten a pony killed, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. It doesn’t take long to find the source of the noise. In a small clearing of trees, Icy is clinging to the top of a tree, spitting down at a pair of ponies at the base of it, trying to reach up to her-- They’re horribly mangled creatures. Their bodies are bloated and their faces are twisted, with wide open mouths devoid of teeth or tongue. Their eyes are sunken, but glow brightly from within. Their blotchy, bloated limbs are glowing with neon. The fur on the ghouls’ bodies has faded and shredded away with time, leaving the dried, jerky-like texture of their skin exposed. Their bodies seem oddly bouncy; as they try to reach Icy, their hooves are gently touching the ground then bouncing upward, like the balloons we used to have back in the stable on birthdays. Icy notices my arrival and glares at me, shouting over the horrid noises of the ghouls. “Come to laugh at me, have you, stabledweller?!” She barks, kicking one of the ghouls as it gets a little too close. She seems groggy and unsteady- I can see the hoof I shot with my water gun is bandaged haphazardly, but the bandages are soaked right through with blood. I try to ignore that, looking around for some solution to this. “Whatever you do, don’t shoot them!” Icy yells, seeing my confusion. I look up at her, not wanting to attract attention to myself-- but it’s too late, all of Icy’s yelling in my direction causes one of the neon ghouls to turn and face me. It stops for just a moment, just long enough for a horrid mass of bile to dribble out of its mouth… And then, with a howl, it charges toward me. It’s terrifyingly fast, bouncing a few inches off the ground with every step in my direction. Despite Icy’s guidance I fumble for my water pistol, aiming and firing just as the ghoul is about to hit me-- a thin, pressurised stream of water bursts right through its chest, piercing through it like it was made of tissue paper. It howls and hits me-- despite the lightness of its body it’s still a lot of flesh, enough to knock me back into a stagger. I can hear Icy shouting again, but for some reason, it’s so distant… The air around me is shimmering, wavering. I’m suddenly so light-headed… I try to breathe, but for some reason I can’t fill my lungs. My breathing grows heavier, I try to take in big gulps of air to try and fill my lungs but nothing is coming. I’m panicking now, my head is spinning, I can’t breathe! I can hear my pip-buck screeching from my wrist, and I groggily try to silence it, but I just can’t quite manage to hit the right buttons… My head is pounding, my body is screaming for air. I stagger aside, my eyes dry and unfocused as I try to follow the sound of Icy’s voice, but it’s so far away… Mouth dry, I realise I need water. Water… My magic barely functioning, I remember my water gun! So thirsty… I lift the barrel of it to my lips, and… Everything is suddenly sideways as something hits my side, hard. I tumble to the ground, and feel something pounding my chest. I panic, remembering the other ghoul-- It must have gotten to me! I scream, trying to flail my hooves but they’re quickly held down by something else. Are there more ghouls…? My chest is slammed with a pair of hooves over and over again, enough to make my ribs groan. Icy, Way… help me! I want to scream, but I still have no air in my lungs. It’s so hard to think, I can feel my brain straining to keep focus… Suddenly I feel something warm press against my mouth, and I feel the warm rush of air filling my lungs. That’s all I need for my body to reboot itself, and I let out a blood-speckled cough as I start to gasp in lungfuls of air. I wheeze and groan, eyes watering as I realise who’s on top of me-- It’s Icy again, her hooves firmly on my chest. She’s breathing heavily, glaring down at me as I finally manage to breathe proper breaths again. I don’t even know what just happened, but my head is spinning, and I’m fighting the urge to pass out again. The mare looks down at me for a few long moments before realising I’m breathing normally, and sighs in relief… before slapping me hard enough to make my jaw creak. I yelp in pain, trying to hold my hooves up to shield my face-- only to realise they’re still being held down. I look up, and see The Way is there, holding onto my forehooves. “... Wh… wha…” My voice is scratchy, and before I even need to ask, The Way lifts a bottle to my lips, letting me drink a few gulps of water. Icy growls, slipping off of me and walking back over to the tree she’d been sitting on, picking up her jacket and tugging it back on, as The Way releases me, letting me sit up. “Easy, easy.” The zebra murmurs, patting my back as I get my bearings. The ghoul I shot is all the way on the other side of the clearing- The air around it is shimmering like a mirage. The other ghoul is at the base of the tree, its skull caved sickeningly inward. “What… happened?” I manage. Icy glares at me, baring her teeth. “You shot a neon ghoul, you idiot. They’re big sacks of neon gas, and you punctured a hole in one.” She spits. I look at The Way for explanation, and she sighs. “It’s… I’ll save you a long and complicated chemical explanation. Neon is lighter than air. If you breathe enough of it in, you can’t fill your lungs with air- You become delirious, then you become unconscious, then you become undead. It’s why neon ghouls are so dangerous. If one dies from a gunshot wound, the entire area around it becomes too risky to pass until the gas disperses.” She explains. I look down, rubbing my chest. “So one of you gave me CPR?” I ask. The Way nods, gesturing to Icy, who’s pacing around the edge of the clearing irritably. “... Th-” I’m interrupted by Icy slapping her tail loudly against a tree. “Don’t even think of thanking me. I’m your guide, not your doctor. Thank Way, she made me do it.” The mare hisses. “Now are we gonna get moving or what? Or do you wanna shoot another of my legs, hm?” She asks. I hesitate, glancing at The Way-- but the older mare doesn’t seem to care about what Icy just said as she stands up, shaking herself off. “... I suppose so. Yeah. Let’s get moving.” I nod to The Way, who smiles, gesturing to Icy. “Lead the way, madame guide.” She says, simply. Icy sneers at her, turning and walking through the underbrush. I half expect The Way to turn and lead me in another direction, but she follows, giving me a small wink on her way past. I hurry to walk alongside her, keeping my mouth shut. As we catch up to Icy, I notice something odd-- she’s not limping, or avoiding walking with her injured leg, she’s moving just fine. I try not to think too much about it as we head further in, Icy glaring at me as I jog to walk next to her, The Way flanking my other side. “... I’m sorry.” I murmur. Icy snorts lowly. “It’s nothing. I’ve been shot before. Never been shot by someone I was guiding though, that’s a new one.” She huffs, before shooting a glare at The Way as the older mare chuckles. “Got a problem, Way? We can settle this right here and now if you want.” Her nostrils flare as Icy stops, glaring down at The Way. The zebra meets her glare calmly. “I don’t want to fight, Fro-” “Don’t call me that.” Icy sneers, turning and continuing forward again, head down. The Way chuckles again, gesturing for me to continue. “It’s not far now.” She whispers. “How do you know?” I ask. As we cross another rickety bridge, The Way gestures down into the murky water-- and my heart skips a beat. There’s easily twenty alligator ponies of all shapes and sizes in the water beneath us, watching us silently. I resist the urge to run, noting Icy and Way’s calm movements. As we get to the other side of the bridge, I let out a breath, shaking my head. “So Death Roll knows we’re here, I guess.” I say. The two mares nod. I look at The Way, biting my lip. “You don’t have to come with me, I have Icy again now… I-I don’t want you getting hur-” The Way cuts me off with a hoof on my chest. “I promise you, I can handle myself. If you’re worried about my age, don’t be, Seven-Ten Split.” She assures me. “I’m still spry.” “Yeah, the old bag took that ghoul out.” Icy admits, with a sneer. “Figured her leg would just turn to powder the second she actually put any weight behind it, but I guess she’s still got a fighting spirit.” The mare says, coldly. “Let’s just keep moving.” She turns, walking across another bridge ahead. “... I have my own reasons for wishing to see Death Roll again.” The Way says, turning and following Icy. With a weary sigh, I take up the rear, following close behind the two. The rest of the journey isn’t long, and the moon is noticeable through the trees as we finally come to the place I’ve been trying to get to. “Death Roll’s compound. Coulda seen it yesterday, but here we are.” Icy mutters. The compound is… big, to say the least. Probably the biggest island I’ve seen yet in this swamp. There was once a wall surrounding it, but most of it appears to have crumbled into the water or been ripped away, leaving only a large, wrought-iron gate on a crumbling stone bridge guarding the land entrance. I guess if they’re amphibious, they don’t need to worry about guarding the water… I think. The island itself is probably the most normal landmass I’ve seen- It’s dirt and rock, in a sort of oval shape. It slopes slowly upwards into a tall, flat plateau, atop which sits… the building I saw from the top of Ten-Bit’s tower, a huge mansion looming over the plantation fields below. Ponies and gator-ponies are working the fields here, with ponies picking mutated fruits off of trees and dropping them into old, rickety barrels to be carted off by huge, lumbering alligator-ponies. Icy and The Way calmly approach the gate, waiting patiently outside it. I stop next to them, looking around. The place is… surprisingly well kept, with what little of the lawns that were probably once here being kept from getting unruly, and the mutated fruit-trees kept in neat rows. The ponies, gator and non, are all pretty well-kept as well. They look well-fed and comfortable, aside from the dirt on their bodies from working on the fields all day. “... So, are we-” I begin. “Shh.” The Way whispers, interrupting me. I realise one of the lumbering gator-ponies is approaching, looking at us through the gates. He’s a gigantic creature, looming over us with a cold stare. He’s more alligator than pony-- the only signs that he’s a pony are the scraggly hairs on his head, the horse-hair tail instead of a scaled one, and his underside being furred instead of scaled. Everything else, even his long, flat head are all alligator. He looms over all three of us-- even Icy. “... You got a reason for comin’ out here?” He rumbles. Both mares look at me, and I remember I’m here for a reason. “O-oh, yeah, uh. I need to speak with Death Roll.” I look at Icy and The Way for a moment, seeing if they’re trying to give me any signals, but they’re both patiently letting me speak. “... Ten Bit sent me.” I say. I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but… He steps aside, grabbing the gate and sliding it out of the way to let us through- It’s not even on hinges, I realise-- the centre of it has been welded together, and it’s just leaning on the supports that it was once attached to. I lead the way this time, stepping inside. “So, uh, is he… up there?” I ask. The gator looks down at me, the expression on his scaly face unreadable. “... Yeah. He knows yer comin’.” He says, simply, not stopping us as we pass into the plantation itself. “... I guess I’m leading the way?” I whisper. Both mares nod, letting me walk ahead with a sigh. “Of course…” I mutter, heading along a gravel path cut between the rows and rows of trees. I can’t get the best look at everyone as we pass, but it looks like about twenty or so ponies are working on harvesting food here… I try not to make eye contact, keeping my head held high. Gotta be… gotta be confident. We approach the manor in silence. There are guards about everywhere there could possibly be guards. One or two sitting on windowsills, leaning on some trees off to my right, two by the doors, some milling around by a bubbling pot of soup to my left. They all have guns, and all of them are part-alligator in some way; slitted eyes, scaly patches, claws and teeth… And they give us disdainful, judgemental glares as we pass. I approach the doors, the two guards staring me down as I do. Should I knock…? Or do I ask to be let in? Or… I can’t show weakness. Not quite sure why, I suddenly step forward, ignoring the guards’ defensive postures as I rear up, put both of my hooves on the doors, and push them open; they fly open smoothly, and stop just as quick, revealing the interior of the manor. I haven’t been shot yet. I gulp slightly, and, not wanting to try my luck, step inside the lobby… “Split, if you ever find yourself needing to make a first impression… Make it dramatic.” “... Why’s that, mom?” “Trust me. If you want your name to be remembered, you’ll kick a door in and scream it at the top of your lungs.” “Haha, I’m not doing THAT! That’ll just get me laughed at!” “Well okay, you little dork, go ahead and be the person who just scurries into a room unseen and unheard, see how far that gets you.” “You’re one to talk! The last time you didn’t sneak into a room I was still struggling to get a strike!” “I’ve already made my first impressions, Split.”