Chapter Three: The Guard, Part One
“I'm too old for this shit.”
Well, after that altercation, there’s nothing notable to talk about for about four or so months. Me and Lander stuck together from then on. He was bullshitting about dangerous ponies wanting him dead. Lots came to try to get his head, and those lots failed horribly. Well... For a time that’s what I thought anyway. It was going pretty good. We began pooling our caps. No reason to keep them separate if one were to ask the other for caps if one went broke anyway. For a while, I began to think the wasteland wasn’t gonna be so bad.
But the wasteland can never not be bad.
It wouldn’t be appropriate to tell you what happened exactly without letting you in on events beforehand. In the time after the whole Scarlet Rangers ordeal, which was far from over like I said before, I’d met Cave Rat. His birth name was actually Tin Can, and he apparently had a knack for making things that would be considered junk quite useful. Turns out he single-hoofedly built the town’s wall out of loads of scrap metal. I found it way more impressive hearing that. His station, the Cave Broadcast Station(Let’s call it CBS from now on) was nicer than the name implied. It definitely wasn’t a standard cave, at least. Next to the CBS building was the marketplace.
There were only three vendors. Steamer, tall grey buck with a sky blue mane and a magnifying glass for a cutie mark, ran a weapons shop. Silk Boot, little old yellow mare with an orange mane... I never saw her cutie mark; she always had a cloth draping the back half of her body... had a clothing store that sold barding and armor too. Most importantly was Conjunction’s food store. The blue-templated mare also ran the (small) clinic with her younger sister.
For at least two months I made it regular for me to visit The Mix once a day... No, I was not trying to flirt with Mixie. I didn’t even know how to flirt. Yeah I talked to her, I mean, what else would I— Shut up and let me tell the damn story...
Anyway, I visited Mixie’s like usual. Except she was closed. That was weird... Mixie never closed shop this early. I looked at my Pipbuck’s clock... 2 pm. She definitely shouldn’t be closed. I knew she lived on the second floor, and I also knew that had it’s own entrance, so I kn— You have a dirty mind, anypony ever tell you that? For the last time, I could hardly speak to her outside of general conversation! Shush! Ahem... I climbed a short flight of stairs, knocking on the second floor entrance when I reached the top.
She answered the door, but only opened to a crack. A chain-link lock kept it from opening all the way if one were to try. “Oh. Hi Rain...” I hadn’t been out here for months without being able to figure something bad happened.
“Mixie? Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I really shouldn’t get you into this... Please, I can handle it myself...”
“Nonsense. What’s the matter?” I persisted.
She sighed, closed the door, and unlocked the chain. “Come in.”
Her place was pretty neat. The room the entrance immediately opened to feature a fridge along with a small table, two chairs accompanying it, in the corner; towards the center of the room was a couch, a surprisingly clean couch I might add, along with two other chairs. The floors and walls were as cracked as anywhere else in the wastes, no getting around that, but it was certainly one of the cleaner lots in the wasteland; cleaner than mine for sure. Oh yeah, I hadn’t really talked about where I’ve been staying, huh? When it’s not out in a makeshift camp, it’s usually in the local motel. Decent place ran by a decent old mare, but the rooms’ condition was completely dependent on the pony staying there. I wasn’t a very hygienic pony. When it came to keeping my room clean, anyways.
“So, what happened?” I asked, sitting down on a nearby idle chair in the center of the room.
She walked slowly to the couch, head hanging, “You know my brother, right?”
Sure I did. Blueberry Bush was about two or three years younger than me; decent kid, helped Mixie out with the bar time to time but mostly helped with the town’s local scavengers and merchants, doing their small chores for fair pay. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Th-They...” New tears began to pour under her eyes, “They took him...”
I stood up, “Who took him?”
“The Buck-Heads... He didn’t even leave town... I dunno how they got him, but they did... And now they want ransom, else they’ll start sending him back in pieces...” Now she was sobbing. Neither her nor her brother deserved this.
“Say no more. I’ll deal with this.”
“No, I can get the caps... Really, I can do this. I’ll just have to—”
“Don’t say it.” I replied indefinitely, but as softly as I could. No way was I gonna let one of the good ponies on this forsaken wasteland resort to... that. “I’ve made up my mind. These Fuck-heads need to be taught a lesson anyways.”
“But Rain... I don’t want...”
“I’ll be fine. You’re not talking me out of this.”
“But... What if...” She sighed in defeat, “You’re impossible...”
“You’re not the only pony that has come to that conclusion.” Well, at least I got a small crack of what I thought was a smile. “I’ll see you soon.” Off to play hero! … Huh, weird word, that. I didn’t figure myself for a hero. Soon enough, I’d learn that I figured right. Give or take another eight months and I’ll be lying in a puddle of my own blood...
Halfway out the door, I was certain I heard a small whisper say, “Don’t die...”
Footnote: Sidequest added- The Good We Do
*** * ***
It was easy to convince Lander to help in my mission. Aside from the fact he wouldn’t, as a friend, let me risk my life by myself, he didn’t mind replacing raiders with lead-filled pony remains. We already had all our supplies in check; ammo(Albeit hardly any for Mane; crystal packs were scarce out here. Luckily, however, I found out how to recycle used ones I manage to salvage from my uses), barding was stitched, back of our ears were completely dry... Thus we made for the Baltimare Stadium. It was apparently a sporting place in pre-war days, but today it was home to the Buck-Heads. It was a huge dome. Obviously, it hadn’t escaped structural damage; the dome looked like it could cave in given a little more force. There were two entrances I knew about, the front and the back. Both were very large. There were at least a dozen gates on each side for entering the stadium.
That’s the description I got from other ponies, anyway. In actuality, that was pretty accurate though. But the structuring was way better than these ponies led on.
“Welp, this is the place,” Lander said as we arrived several dozen meters from the main entrance, “How do ya wanna ‘proach this thing?”
“They’re buck addicts. They aren’t gonna be smart. Let’s just pick off close-by patrols- if they have any- and go in.” I replied, looking at the sky—Well, the clouds covering the sky anyway— whilst thinking. Not about the complexities of the structure, the subtlety of the mission at hand, or anything like that... But I was genuinely wondering if these addicted fucks had patrol routes...
“Aight,” he acknowledged, just as simply put and blunt as any of his answers were.
I was almost shocked when the first two Buck-Heads turned a corner and started walking towards the dome from a small carriage-parking area. Maybe these ponies had half a brain per fifth member after all, I thought. That thought was immediately shot down as I noticed both were both sleep and buck-deprived. Both problems seemed to do equal damage to their systems, totalling two walking train wrecks.
Two ten-millimeter shots made two dead train wrecks. After those two, another patrol hadn’t come for about an hour. They were just as easily taken out. A couple more hours along with a couple more pairs of pony train wrecks went by. Lander was taking each out with one bullet each. I just sat there waiting for something other than this to happen.
“Lander, let’s just raid the place already. These patrol plans suck. Besides, these ponies probably won’t be able to tell the base was invaded anyway. I could swear one looked right at me and didn’t react in the slightest.” Well, his head burst in an explosion of gore seconds after, but still.
He shrugged, “Iffin’ you want, I c’n stay outside by the entrance ‘n you c’n clear out the ‘mediate area. I don’t like loose ends.”
I agreed. Anything was better than sitting around with my head firmly jammed up my rectum. He set up his sniping spot— Wait, can you set up a sniping spot without a sniper rifle? Whatever. I made my way inside.
Was proper guarding too much to expect from what was supposed to be a hive of superpony-strong raiders? Two ponies similarly weakened as the patrols stood guard not five meters from the entrance. They were unresponsive as I said the other one who saw me was. I even poked one. Fuck it, I thought, not wasting ammo on dead ponies. Not to say I wasn’t gonna double-tap. I bucked them both with my hind-hooves right in their necks. Two snaps, and both went down. Their collapsed throats were choking them, it looked. I ended their misery, slamming their skulls with both my forehooves.
I walked through a row of gates. I wondered why they needed gates after the initial entrance... seemed pointless and redundant. But I shook the thought off; now was not the time to lose myself in thought. I looked around a bit, but nothing worth anything was in sight. You’d think the big Buck-Head base would have, you know, Buck everywhere. There were lots of empty syringes and containers for both chewed and injected variations of the drug, but I didn’t find a single usable one. Don’t get the wrong idea, I didn’t like to use drugs. I had an experience with Dash just a month before and I really didn’t wanna go back to that... mistake. No, I will not talk about it. Some things should just be thrown in a hole in the back of the mind. And then have a house built over that hole. And th— you’ve heard that somewhere? Huh.
Dammit, you’re distracting me again. Anyways, I looked around for a solid ten minutes, not straying too far from the entrance. I hadn’t come across a single pony sense the two at the door. There were (closed) stalls and stands everywhere, advertising food and merchandise that frankly looked useless. The fuck was a hoof made of some sort of foam substance useful for again? I was beginning to wonder if the place was abandoned. But, I heard a faint commotion down the hall...
Ah fuck it, I thought, I’m bored of looking at a lot of nothing. And with that I went investigating. A short walk, and I stumbled upon a large passageway into the actual stadium. The place was huge. The ceiling was reminiscent to the thick clouds that outside featured. There were no walls. Not really. The ‘walls’ were all lined with hundreds, perhaps a thousand or two, seats. I gaped in amazement my eyes not even wanting to blink.
Ponies of old knew how to build shit.
I, like always, stuffed my thoughts into the back of my mind. I had shit to get done. on the field of the stadium, I noticed a rather large operation going underway. It was dark, so I fit in with the shadows perfectly. In fact, I thought only for a second that I was too dark. But then I also remembered that these ponies couldn’t tell if I was even there in front of a wall of pure white, so I simply moved in for a better look, rather uncaring about how I moved so long I made little noise. On the front row of seats, I found a lucky listening point. Despite the movements of ponies fiddling around with boxes, I could hear two ponies talking. I recognized one from Baltimare’s wanted list. The giant burgundy buck with a spiked purple mane and thin but long mustache, along with the trademarked(if trademarks still meant anything) cracked skull Buck-Head symbol on his cheek was Low Road. Leader of the Buck-Heads, and with good reason. He took so much buck, it would kill anypony else. But this fuck’s special talent was taking buck. No joke. He had a syringe labeled ‘buck’ as his fucking cutie mark. How would you even fucking get that I wouldn’t begin to know. The other... Well, her uniform with a weird crystal symbol looked familiar.
“And this is all of it?” The mare with the vaguely familiar uniform said.
“The fuck do you think? Low Road delivers. It costed all my gang’s buck to get this stuff, even had to take a few from my own fucking inventory, but I got it all. Every fucking burning, melting, ear-fucking magical weapon for sale for fucking miles on end are right here.” Low Road said in his expectedly wild, uncontrolled voice.
“Very well. You’ve done the Scarlet Rangers good. Your payment should be coming in from the back entrance now. Ten thousand caps worth of hyper-buck.” ...Scarlets? I thought, No fucking way...
“Fucking. Perfect.” He blinked, “And what about...”
“Your slaves? Yes, the males are the ones bringing the buck in. The Mares should... Ah, here they come now.” A group of two dozen mares walked slowly in from a field entrance across the group packing the weapons.
His smile had a sick aura that you could feel dance around the room, I shit you not. “Very... Nice...”
“And that concludes our business. Can we expect to work in the future, Mister Low Road?”
“Keep the pay this good and the Buck-Heads will fucking never say no.”
And with that, she intently trotted out, ponies carrying the many boxes in tow.
This got insane fast. All I knew was that I needed to find Blue, shoot ponies, do something, and get the fuck out of here.
*** * ***
I snuck back into the hall. Every hair on my coat stood on end. Not because I was nervous, but because the fucking brutes had injected themselves with the new supply of buck and were breaking their new slaves in. Fucking literally. Screams could be heard even from my relatively distant position. I did to that what I did to everything else that bothered me. Threw it in the same hole where that mare’s rotting half-shot head and the burning corpse of the mare my age I’d killed months before were. I now knew I wasn’t a fucking hero. A hero would’ve jumped out to try to save those ponies. I was just some cocky asshole who got in over his head. I didn’t say I was gonna start a fucking slave revolt.
But I did say I’d save Mixie’s brother, and dammit, I was gonna save him.
So I went looking again. I randomly found perhaps the only door that wasn’t locked in the entire fucking stadium. The outside labeled it ‘game room’. I mentally labeled it ‘the most fucked up room in all of fucking Equestria’, and with good reason. Opening the door, I was bucked in the face by the most rancid smell anypony ever smelled. I mean, out of all the things it could smell like, this was THE. WORST. POSSIBLE. THING. Pony guts... They were strewn and draped around the room like fucking decorations. They hung from the ceiling, carpeted parts of the floor, stacked into pillars... It was absolutely sick. I don’t even have to tell you, I was seeing my breakfast right then and there. But there was a blip on my EFS. And it wasn’t red. I turned to see Blueberry Bush. He was bounded. And smelled like... What. The. Fuck. He smelled like, well, what the sleeping mare in the corner of that very room smelled like.
And she smelled like semen.
He was conscious somehow. This kid must be the strongest pony ever. Raped, beat up, bound, and forced to stay in a room made of mutilated pony. Poor kid. He just looked at me with pleading eyes. I then realized he had no idea who I was. He wore glasses. Usually. Obviously, he wasn’t wearing them now.
“Holy shit, Blue...” I whispered.
He seemed to recognize my voice, “You’re... The pony always at Mixie’s...”
I untied his rope bindings. Needless to say, being an earth pony, the task was... difficult. He tried to get up and walk, but would almost always collapse immediately either due to exhaustion or to the fact that he couldn’t see and tripped over everything. Dammit, why couldn’t I wait for Lander... Oh, because this poor kid’s in a room made of ponies. Right. I thought to myself.
“Alright, just... Hop on my back. I’ll carry you out,” I said with resolve.
“... That’s... not...” he tried to say, with little avail. He couldn’t seem to bare to keep his eyes open anymore.
“Fuck being smart,” I said, bluntly.
He sighed and dumped his body on my back. He actually wasn’t that heavy. Being an Earth Pony who actually lived in the wastes, he’d always been quite strong... Wait, that’s very bad, isn’t it? Fuck.
“Just one more thing.” I said, turning to the cunt sleeping in the corner. “Good morning.”
Her eyes opened slowly as she raised her head, “What the...” She blinked, noticing my black box of blue death pointing at her face. “Oh... Fu—” She turned to ash before she finished her last word. One last dead pony for the dead pony room.
I ran out of ‘the most fucked up room in all of fucking Equestria’ and towards the exit. The screams were done, which was enough to make me run faster. My instincts proved right, as I heard the clops of hooves behind me. Most likely because I used a laser gun that wasn’t silent neither shooting nor turning ponies to goo. The clops turned into what sounded like a riot. Obscenities, yelling, and general noise filled the air. As if on queue, Lander peaked inside from the entrance mere yards away.
“...Rain?” He said, hesitatingly.
“Less talk, more getting the fuck out of here!” I yelled in response.
He then noticed the mob chasing me and silently but immediately shared my sentiments.
“What the fuck didja do?” He yelled in question.
“Uhh.... Saved Blue?” And got the entirety of the Buck-Heads, upgraded on super-buck, after us. I supposed that I also left behind over a dozen slaves to die and/or be raped, but that... sickingly, now that I think about it... Wasn’t important to me.
He sighed in frustration, but he wasn’t the type to argue in near-death situations such as these.
Turning the corner, we both froze. Right in front of us was him. Low Road... And he was at least twenty percent bulkier! Where did he... Well, the hole in the wall explained it. Up close, he was a whole neck and head taller than Lander and I. For the first time in months, I almost pissed myself. Ah, memories.
Needless to say, we bolted. The Blueberry Bush hadn’t been much of a hassle to carry. Which still worried me. But I didn’t have time to think about it. Was too busy running for my life, you see. And well, it wasn’t getting us anywhere. Every other corner we had to make a hard turn. It was becoming frustrating more than scary. It went to the point where it didn’t even make much sense where the Buck-Heads were coming from. Hell, it didn’t make much sense where we were coming from.
Eventually things got confusing for everypony and one way or another Lander and I were able to stop for a breather behind a random dumpster. I stood there thinking... This wasn’t working. Running back to the city with this herd wasn’t smart. Nor welcome. Well, I hadn’t gone through with a stupid plan in like, four months. I was just about scheduled for a new one.
“Take Blue back to Baltimare,” I said. Predictably, Lander tried to dismiss that plan quickly. Then and there, in the middle of crossing Hell’s bridge... Me and Lander had an argument. Heh.
“Look, running till they’re exhausted is out of the question. They’re on buck and have tons more waiting for them back in the stadium.” I tried to reason.
“And that’s ‘xactly why ya’ll be slaughtered.” He replied bluntly.
“It won’t help anypony if all three of us are slaughtered.” I shot back, eyes narrowing to a glare.
“Then why can’t I-” I cut him off before he could finish and return the glare.
“I’m more agile than you, old man,” I said as bluntly as he made his previous comment, “So I’ll last longer.”
He almost looked offended, “I’m not... I’m not old!” But, he conceded. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”
*** * ***
I didn’t like running. At all.
They hadn’t let up the chase any. If I stopped too long there would always be the noise of the mob several moments after. But I had to keep running. Becoming part of that room would suck. A lot. I felt like I was gonna have to run forever. I could never not be alert. I jumped at every sound despite my Pipbuck telling me nothing’s there. But I couldn’t inspect the noises. Had to run. Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN!
Stop. I had to stop. Why? Tower of a pony right in front of me. How...? I was running fast...
I mentally slapped my adrenaline-drunk self. Of course he was in front of me. The mob chased me in a circle. Wait. They had stopped following. What...?
I realized I should probably dodge those hooves coming from above. Moving to the right of the burgundy giant, I narrowly got out of the way when two battering rams pummeled the old asphalt to even more broken fragments. He swung his forehooves wildly at me, but I managed to dodge that strike as well. The metaphorical dance persisted for long moments. He was yelling obscenities the entire time. I hadn’t gotten in a good position to aim my battle saddle and fry the leader of the Buck-Heads. All I could do was narrowly dodge his blows, knowing full well that if any connected I was a dead pony. I didn’t even attempt to strike. My bucks would be like pillow blows to this guy for sure. I could only keep dodging and dodging. No different from running, really.
I was less than surprised when he landed a blow. But I was more than surprised when I realized I was still standing. I kept dodging but was still hit quite a bit, but despite the hits I wasn’t dying yet. I surprised myself sometimes.
I was finally given an opportunity. Low Road faltered, tripping on his own rage it seemed. I quickly jumped away and bit down on the bridle of my battle saddle. Lasers lanced through the air with multiple zaps. They all glanced off of him though, searing his coat and flesh. The air smelled of roasted meat and ozone. His jaw tightened as he whined in pain, but he immediately shook that pain off and charged at me again. Dodging to the side, I took more shots point blank. Blue bolts found home in his ribcage. I could imagine a fire of pain, literally, shooting through this pony’s nervous system. But I didn’t care much. I shot blue death until the crystal cartridge was out and empty.
And the bastard was still alive!... Barely. Well, his chest moved up and down.
I grinned. I just beat the bastardest of the bastardest! Not bad. Is somepony saying something? I thought, hearing that in fact, somepony was saying something.
“Fucking... Perfect...” the incredibly large addict rasped, “Beat... I got... Beat...”
“You gonna die any time soon?” I deadpanned, “I got places to go.”
“Fucker... You’ll fucking... Regret... Everything...” He was hardly breathing anymore. I guessed his lungs were either grilled well or partially goop. Wasn’t my problem either way.
“Lemme borrow that,” I said, biting his earring right off. Proof that he’s dead. Ponies work for a living, you know.
“Fuck... er...” His head slumped down finally. Buck-Heads are damned tenacious when they aren’t buck-deprived.
And the mob was back. Fuck. This pony really wanted to do a dramatic battle to the death with the dirty infiltrator as something to show his gang. Ponies are so stupid.
Can’t be helped... More running...
*** * ***
Death. If there’s one thing I know about this curious, fascinating, skin crawling, gut clutching event, it’s that it sucks. The ways ponies can figure how to die is just as curious, fascinating, skin crawling, and gut clutching... Albeit that’s different But it’s something we all have to accept. Even before the war when everything was happy, or so that’s how ponies put it, death was an inevitable end for most life. Well, apparently the “Goddesses” were above death. What? So I have my doubts. So what? I’m just saying, if there were a Goddess or two up in the sky or whatever, you’d think they’d... Help us do better than... This. But no. Ponies live. Ponies die. Again, we all must accept it.
But accept how ponies live and die in this day and age, and you’re a fucking monster. That’s coming from a former one of the fucking monsters himself.
*** * ***
I... I thought I did it. No mob would come into my range of hearing when I stopped. even better, my black-fedora-doning friend had come back. It was like half the weight on my shoulders was gone, and somepony else came along to help carry the rest. I felt... Simply at ease.
But I... Wasn’t smart enough. Didn’t predict this. An overlooked variable ruins the entire equation. ‘a’ squared doesn’t simply equal ‘c’ squared...
Camped at our usual camp spot. It was in the center of an almost crater-like landmass. Small hills rose from all around. Covered the fire so we wouldn’t be noticed.
“So, wha’d I miss?” Lander finally asked as he drank a sip of water. Also, I never told you about his cutie mark did I? Well in case you were wondering, it was a map. In fact, it was visible now; he wasn’t wearing his barding and usually doesn’t when he’s not on the road. I guessed it bothered him more than me, actually wearing something. I couldn’t blame him. Ponies are naturally naked creatures.
Shut the fuck up. I don’t swing that way.
“Nothing big. I set Low Road up in blue laser-induced flames,” I said, almost happily.
“Really now?” He raised a brow, “Naw, you gotta be Brahminshitting me.” That buck took several shotgun blasts to the chest before. In fact, I was under the ‘mpression nothin’ short ova mini-balefire bomb’d do ‘im in.”
“It’s true. Look.” I took out his trademarked(I know trademarks don’t exist anymore, shut up.) earring. It was a precious little thing, really. It was made of gold, or something that looked like gold, and had small gems in it. It was engraved with an unidentifiable name, too.
“I’ll be damned,” He said,looking at it, “Fuck Rain. Just, fuck. Not a year out here and you... Fuck.”
“Not that big a deal, jeez,” I said with a smirk.
“Ah, yeah it is. Anyway, turn your pipthing’s radio on. Rat’s more than likely all over this.
I did what was asked. Ending the day with Cave Rat’s radio didn’t sound bad.
—And there were no survivors. In other news, a ruckus shakes the old Baltimare Stadium, home of your dastardly neighborhood Buck-Heads. Who stirs the trouble? None other than the very same kid who lead the destruction of the Scarlets just months ago! And his friend-guy who you all know as Lander, too. So apparently, the kid was out on a rescue mission. His small party went in and did in fact save the hostage in question who would like to remain anonymous. The Buck-Heads have now seemed to back off and retreated back into their hive. Which is odd. The Buck-Heads are known to tenaciously, vigorously, and persistently chase down ponies they want dead till they either fall off the face of Equestria or are in fact dead. There are suspicions that the kid bucked them backside hard enough for them to back off, but nothing can be confirmed at this time. Anyway, it’s about time I hit the hay. But don’t turn off your radios yet my little ponies, the Cave broadcasts either music or news at any given time!
Despite my displeasure of these songs, Lander liked them. He pestered me to leave it on when I motioned to shut the radio off. The song proceeded to play...
As if on queue, I detected something on my Pipbuck’s EFS... A lot of somethings. Holy fuck. A SHITLOAD of somethings!
“Lander!” I shouted, “Company!”
He snapped up, almost instantly pulling his barding back on and getting his gun in his mouth. I, much more slowly, slipped into my battle saddle. We looked up. Red eyes glared down. A dozen. They belonged to metal ponies decorated with red. Each had visible a crystal on their metal flanks.
“The fuck is this?” Lander yelled in question.
The answer he got was metal rain. This wasn’t a good spot to camp at all.
When you attend a funeral
It is sad to think that sooner or
Later those you love will do the same for you
And you may have thought it tragic
Not to mention other adjec-
Tives, to think of all the weeping they will do
But don't you worry
No more ashes, no more sackcloth
And an hoofband made of black cloth
Will someday never more adorn a sleeve
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve
I bit the bridle of my saddle, blue streaks turned one of them into a heap. Lander sprayed his SMG to little effect, other than getting a lucky shot in one of the metal ponies’ eye sockets. We tried to climb the hill on the opposite side, but it was hard. Hitting us in that position wasn’t a hard task.
And we will all go together when we go
What a comforting thought that is to know.
Universal bereavement, an inspiring achievement
Yes, we will all go together when we go
We will all go together when we go
All suffused with an incandescent glow
No one will have the endurance to collect on his insurance
Lloyd's of Lonpony will be loaded when they go
Missiles streaked. It was in a warzone. Shit exploded all around me. But somehow we both made it to the top, now able to return fire. My battle saddle was almost as quick as Lander was to reload. More zaps to compliment the bangs, booms, and pows.
Oh we will all fry together when we fry
We'll be french fried potatoes by and by
There will be no more misery when the world is our rotisserie
Yes, we will all fry together when we fry
Down by the old balestrom
There'll be a storm before the calm
And we will all bake together when we bake
There'll be nopony present at the wake
With complete participation in that grand incineration
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak
Lander was hit. He was down. Fuck. Not good. I continued my random spray at red lights. Lander got back up even as I saw him bleed from head to hoof. We both dived down the other side of the hill. Only given a moment before the red metal ponies could rain more death, we made for the best cover: a mound of boulders. Lander started talking.
“Get the fuck out’a here.”
At least that’s what I think he said. I read his lips more than heard his voice. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to argue at this point. I certainly wanted to run, and run very fast... but not without him in tow... The rain started hitting again...
Oh we will all char together when we char
And let there be no moaning of the bar
Just sing out a Te Deum when you see that ICBM
And the party will be "come as you are"
Oh we will all burn together when we burn
There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn
When it's time for the fallout
And Saint Meters calls us all out
We'll just drop our agendas and adjourn
You will all go directly to your respective Valhallas
Go directly, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollahs
He didn’t give me a choice. He bucked me off and I instinctively ran from the bullet shower. I didn’t want to... I really, really didn’t. Not without him. All I remember is a lot of bangs. I. Just. Ran.
And we will all go together when we go
Ev'ry Hottentot and ev'ry Eskimo
When the air becomes uranious, we will all go simultaneous
Yes we all will go together, when we all go together
Yes, we all will go together when we go
Footnote: Sidequest Complete- The Good We Do
*** * ***
I eventually made it to Baltimare. Exhausted, capless, and generally feeling bad made the ground look so very soft. But now wasn’t the time to fall on my face. I have to... Have to...
“What the fuck do I have to do?” I whispered to myself aloud. Lander was dead, I was sure, I had nothing except my name, saddle, and laser gun. I couldn’t tell Mixie... She’d blame herself, and her brother probably would too. Staying out here for the night... Less than safe all things considered. I let out a sigh, and trotted over to Mixie’s whilst trying to think of a sound enough excuse for Lander’s... Absence...
Long story short, I suck at lying. She caught on eventually. She tried to cheer me up and insisted binge drinking was only gonna kill me, but I really couldn’t stand to acknowledge the gesture. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t bring herself to simply stop giving me what I asked, though. Which pretty much all consisted of that really good drink she made all those months ago.
Even drinking got old though. I eventually got to the point where I just sat there and stared at random objects that happen to cross my field of view.
And one of those objects looked like a walking corpse. My first time seeing a ghoul didn’t startle me too much. Dad talked to me all the time about the sane ones. He never talked about the insane feral ones to much though. Said it brought back bad memories. But this one was different among the rest of the ponies around the bar, looking dead aside. He or she was looking at me back.
I coughed.
“Oh, ah, sorry mate. I just couldn’t help but notice you drownin’,” From the sound of it, she was a mare. I shouldn’t neglect to mention her voice didn’t sound like it was being processed by a cup of nails. And it was in another strange accent.
“Well some ponies like drowning. I’m not that un-fond of it right now in fact,” I said flatly. Then burped. That was rude of me, huh?
The ghoul sat on next to my own, “Well let’s see if I could change a drunk bloke’s mind. Tell Ol’ Relly about it.”
I raised a brow, “I don’t—” Ah, fuck. I vomited in my mouth. Maybe I should stop drinking. Mixie was thoughtful enough to leave a bucket just for the (inevitable) occasion. Face green under my coat, I wiped the remaining stomach fluids from my mouth, “—mean to be rude... But why do you care?” Vomit tastes awful, by the way.
“Unlike many other jerkasses out here, I care about ponies. That so hard to belie—” she must’ve either realized it was hard to believe or caught my “You can’t be serious” face, “Well I do!”
“... Alright...” I conceded, “Well, me and a friend went out to save somepony... Met old enemies along the way... He died. Worse, he died saving me.” I let out, feeling as though it was all one sigh.
She thought a moment before replying, “... Yeah, those situations tend to suck.”
I looked up, “Who are you?”
“Ah, I call myself Ol’, Relly... But I was called Reliable way back when life didn’t suck too bad. I didn’t originally come from ‘questria neither. Way back when names of places on the global scale mattered, I lived in a place called Macropodistan. Place ran by a bunch of blokes called Kangaroos. Good enough people. Doubt there’s any left.”
She’s from... somewhere else? Wait, there’s a somewhere else besides where Ponies and Zebras come from? I thought to myself.
“Yes.” She can read minds too!? “No, I’m just good at distinguishin’ what you mean by the look of your face! No poker face hides from Ol’ Relly!”
...This mare is weird. ”The weirdest!” Fuck! Get out of my head! “No can do, mate..”
Well, that’s odd. I laughed. When was the last time that happened? I was a lot younger, probably. “You’re a character...” I began again, “So, Relly, what exactly do you do to make a cap?”
“Oh, I’m a guard.”
“Guard? I’ve never seen you in the regular guard posts, and I’ve seen just about every pony who lives in Baltimare period.”
“Oh, I don’t work in this city. I guard caravans. You know, traveling traders.”
“Huh, that makes more sense...” Maybe... “Your caravan doesn’t happen to have a spot open, does it? I kinda have little to nothing to do.”
“I don’t rightly know, tell you the truth.” Aw, dammit. Well, here’s to doing noth— “But the doll who leads it is a sweetheart and a sucker for misfortunate ponies. I’m sure she’d allow for a pony capable enough.” she said with a (grossly) friendly smile.
“I... Thanks. Maybe I can... Get over... This.”
“I understand, mate. Blokes need something not-depressin’ sometimes. I’ll meetcha outside this place tomorrow mornin’. Then we’ll talk to the boss.”
“Sounds great. Seriously, thank you.”
My mind was way more at ease. And my brain was now feeling the severe effects of drinking too much. I had put off the soft-looking floor for too long. I fell, embracing the softest damn floor in all of existence with a crash.
__________________________
Notes:
Quest Completed: The Guard, Part One
Quest Added: The guard, Part Two
Level Up!
Perk Added:
Run ‘n Gun
Effect: Halved spread with one-handed ranged weapons while walking or running.