• Published 20th Nov 2013
  • 2,411 Views, 33 Comments

FoE: Snippet Story - Windrunner

Set at various points in the Fallout: Equestria universe. Each chapter is intended to be a unique story unto itself. So many references, both ludicrously obscure and blatantly obvious. Even the title. No, not that. You will never figure them all out.

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Rote Rememorisation

36 hours to war end: Inside an outlying Canterlot mail sorting hub.

"I brought you a letter!" A grey pegasus with a bubble cutie mark and a seemingly permanently happy expression was mumbling around the grip of a huge mail bag.

"That's not a letter. That is a whole bag of letters." The Postmaster General went to say as she dropped the hefty bag on his hoof causing him to dance about in pain.

"Oopsy." Was her only reaction to it as she turned around to pick up a huge letter almost as big as herself.

"I meant this letter." Her eyes crisscrossed looking down at the enormous envelope.

"What in Equestria is that?" He queried.

"I don't know, it has postage paid. The address only says Mail though. I'll just put it over here." She went to step forward.

"No, wait!" Tumbling over the bag she had just dropped sent her crashing into a sorting rack which toppled over, knocking into other shelves like a gigantic set of dominoes until the entire facility was engulfed in a torrent of mail. The Postmaster hung his head as the last letter fluttered to the pile. Looking around he could barely hear from under the mess.

"I just don't know what went wrong." Sighing in response, he managed to say:

"I think I do.." Her head popped up as he said it.

"Really?" She mumbled. He covered his face with a hoof.

After straightening up a bit he met her in the office section. She was not a regular worker but an additional hire brought in to help with the high volume of mail.

"Are you sure you want this weeks pay in nothing but..muffins?" He asked looking at her quizzically.

"I'm throwing a muffin party." The grey mare told him. A what?

"Are you really sure? that is a lot of muffins." He pointed at a large stack of trays full of assorted muffins in all shapes and sizes.

"Yep, it's everything I ever dreamed of." He was distracted by her randomly crossing eyes.

"Wait, your dream was to throw a muffin party?" He asked incredulously.

"Mmm muffins.." She said absently. What was she talking about?

"They are yummy in my tummy!" She seemed almost to be elsewhere.

"Well uh, okay then. You can carry them in one of the mail sacks." He pointed her to a rack of large empty mailbags. She set about dumping the trays into the bag then backed into a desk which promptly fell over dumping its entire contents.

"Why me?" He moaned.

"You want some muffins?" She mumbled around the bag. He grit his teeth.

Shooing her out the door he set about rallying the staff back to work. The work today was sure to take a long while. He considered activating one of the Mister Handy bots to assist, what pony gave them that strange name anyway? Those things made him slightly nervous no matter how friendly they seemed. The particular bot in its cubicle had for some reason been named A.I.D.E. Everypony called it Aidee which was fairly ironic considering how very male the voice unit sounded. A day later and they were still going at it very late.

The dedicated staffers had done an excellent job catching up the backlog of sorting but were also being overwhelmed by an unusually high volume of letters coming and going, something big was going on. The Postmaster had barely been able to keep things on track for weeks. The loyal staff was overworked and tired leaving them absolutely needing a break. He had taken great pride in his mark which symbolized the very values of leadership and organization. These skills had lent themselves well to the job, but even he was having trouble keeping up with this. Not knowing what was soon to befall them he had made the difficult decision to grant the entire staff a much needed two day break.

Assembling them he made the announcement.

"You sure about this, Posty?" One of the more elderly and dour looking mares piped up. Being longtime chums with everypony working there the nickname had stuck.

"I have ordered all priority mail rerouted elsewhere. We are all worn out, go home and see your families. Just as much work will be here when you return. In the meantime I will finish up overnight here along with Aidee. I need the time off too, I'm getting married the day after tomorrow." This announcement was followed by a flurry of congratulations.

"If any of you wish to attend you are most welcome. There will be plenty of cake." One of the junior mail carriers chimed in.

"Shouldn't you get more time off for that sort of thing?" The question was true enough.

"There is far too much work lately. We will just have to go on our honeymoon when things die down." He waved them out. The group went out the door as he headed over to the corner robotics terminal by the window. It had been used rarely, and usually only for routine janitorial duties.

Far off in the distance he could just make out the great bascule bridge which fronted Canterlot, for the last long while it had mostly remained drawn closed. It had become a routine sight for it to be shut.

"They must be on high alert again." he muttered. Before the war started it was mostly considered a decorative touch to the capitals great main gate. However one looked at it, it still remained a defensive ground structure which when closed completely cut off ground access, aside from the rail station entrance which no enemy force could possibly break through thanks to clever internal defenses.

Some time after the war began the new mail sorting facility had been built outside of the capital for purely logistical and security reasons. Wouldn't want to carry a bomb or something straight into the city. There were after all some ponies just crazy enough to be enemy sympathizers. An air of distrust and despair had quietly settled over the once shining city. Closing the windows metallic shutters he set about getting the odd spherical bot to help him finish up. It still gave him the shivers to see it hover about with the many arms it possessed, like some floating spider. The bots cubicle door slid open behind him. Hovering out to begin its assigned tasks it gave a customarily cheerful:

"Good evening sir, working late I see. The office has been left in disarray as usual. Really, what would you do without me?" It floated to a supply closet where it grabbed a broom with a mechanical pincer and began clearing up clutter while collecting any dirt and garbage it ran across.

"Will you be needing me the entire night sir?" He had forgotten it was actually capable of asking a couple of standard questions.

"Yes Aidee, I'm afraid so. Gotta get all finished up so I can rest tomorrow before my wedding." He did not know how much of that the bobbing machine could actually understand.

"Oh, a wedding. Congratulations sir! You will want to be in tip-top shape for the, I presume, beautiful bride-to-be." It really did sound cheerful. Apparently it at least could respond to some form of conversation. It was likely programmed to respond to key words or combinations thereof. Still, it was better than spending the remainder of the night alone.

"I need a drink." He said absently.

"Allow me, sir." Aidee hovered off while humming and singing a trailing patriotic sounding tune, as it left the room he could just hear:

"Blessed bodies of the heavens, sun and moon of greatest light.." It returned with a hot cup of tea a few moments later. He took a sip and set it on a desk. A few hours later and both had nearly finished their respective work. He was just about to call it quits when the bot slipped past accidentally knocking the empty cup on the floor.

"We are done Aidee, back into your closet." He ordered as he bent down to pick up the cup. At this instant a terrible thud was heard along with seeing a flash of pink and a sudden warm sensation ran over him. "What was that?, oh well." He picked the cup up and set it on the desk.

He sets the cup up, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! Still at it I see. Your work ethic is impeccable I must say." Morning? A strong feeling of Déjà vu struck him as the robot set off on whatever task it deemed necessary. Good thing he'd be done soon. This seemed so strangely familiar. He did not notice the cracks in the walls, the dust that had settled around him.

"As usual the office is in disarray, I will perform my daily routines." He picks up the cup, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! If only all employees would strive for excellence in attendance as you do. I will perform my daily routines." He picks up the cup, the cup falls down. Good morning? A strong feeling of Déjà vu struck him as the bot whisked past to attend some chore or other. He puts the cup on the desk, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! Haven't gone off to be married yet? You are going to be late. Don't worry, I'm sure it is just pre-wedding jitters! I will perform my daily routines." Late for his wedding? Good thing he'd be finished soon. This seemed so familiar.


Surely you can see where this is going. Some fates perhaps truly are worse than death.

Author's Note:

By my calculations based on various key indicators such as depicted travel times, justifiable existence of rail links, and fitting these to the official map then the Equestrian land mass is approximately 198,435 square miles, slightly smaller than Thailand. At this scale Ponyville would be about 60 miles from Canterlot. (Addendum: Movie canon and map suggests the landmass is a bit larger than this by approximately 8000-12000 more miles due to the addition of more south and possibly? a land-bridge to the west) Plenty of room to roam.
The more you know.

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