• Published 9th Mar 2012
  • 6,988 Views, 340 Comments

Fallout Equestria: Morality of Property - Sir Leadhead

A slaver learns some harsh lessons in the Equestrian Wasteland.

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Chapter 2 > In which our heroine gets wet

Fallout: Equestria
Morality of Property
By Sir Leadhead

Chapter 2 > In which our heroine gets wet
“All things truly wicked, start from an innocence.”

I awoke to the sound of heavy rain outside our little cave. Perfect, just what I want to wander around in. Probably going to get pneumonia. At least now I don’t have to wander around alone, even though I prefer to do my work alone. But I don’t have to split profits or deal with an immoral, punk-headed attitude with Hiss. Taking a look at him in the slightly lighter daylight, I saw that he was smaller than the average Nightstalker, which is probably why he was picked on so bad by his pack and kicked out. Outcasts like us gotta stick together. He still had a few minor injuries from whatever ordeal he went through, so I levitated another healing potion out of my bag. Hmm, only two left. Still, best to use them when you need them rather than save them for somepony to loot off your corpse. “Hiss, wake up.” I said, nudging his scaly head. Hiss’s reptilian eyes blinked open slowly and he got up and arched his back, stretching out his front paws and yawned so big that he unhinged his snake-jaw. Re-locating it (because Nightstalkers are weird and can do that), he looked up at me and sat. Wow. I didn’t even need to teach him to sit. I wondered if it was possible that somepony had domesticated this Nightstalker before, but immediately threw that idea out of the window. Who else besides me would be crazy enough to think about having a Nightstalker for a pet?

“Here. Drink this. It’ll fix you right up.” I said, tilting the opening of the potion bottle into Hiss’s mouth. He drank the potion down greedily, as if he knew what its purpose was. His remaining wounds healed up almost instantly, and he stood up wagging his tail, the rattle making a shick noise every time he did it. “Heh. You’re just a little sweetheart, aren’t you?” I said, patting Hiss’s head. He looked pleased with himself. “Well, we gotta go out in the rain, no use waiting. It’ll probably be at this all day, darn it all. Let’s try to find some new merchandise today; I’m wanting to test out my new gun on some ponies.” Hiss… was that a bark or a loud hiss? He made a noise in response, and I grabbed my gear and headed out, back into the wasteland.


An hour later and I was soaked to the bone, my leather barding making squelching noises as I walked. Hiss looked thoroughly miserable, his fur dripping down and plastered to his skin. We needed to find shelter, even if it was only for a little while to dry off and warm up. Otherwise, we really were going to go hypothermic and get pneumonia.

I looked around. The rain made it hard to see any further than around 30 meters or so, so I really couldn’t get much in the way of a lay of the land… wait, was that the shadowy form of a shack over there? Shacks work as shelter, and if I’m lucky some potential merchandise will be there too! “Hiss, let’s approach that shack. Quietly and carefully now…” I said. A weird, quiet woomp noise came from where Hiss was standing behind me, and I curiously turned around. Hiss had disappeared, although I could still see where the rain stopped to hit him, and a slight shimmer in the air also betrayed his presence. Still, it was pretty cool that nightstalkers could go invisible, now that I had one. Funny how your perspective changes, I used to absolutely despise Nightstalkers for that very reason. “Alright, good. Sneak around behind, and I’ll approach from the front.” No noise replied, but I saw some small paw prints heading towards the back of the shack. Those paw prints were much smaller than I would expect, even if Hiss is a small Nightstalker. He must have a pretty light step to leave those small of tracks.

And he was uncannily aware of my meaning when I said something to him. I’m all for that, personally I don’t really have the time or skill to train animals, but something about it creeped me out a little at the possibility that Hiss may have had a previous owner. Would they come looking for him? How had he gotten so injured when I first saw him? Would the potential previous owner then inflict those injuries on me for ‘stealing his pet?’

As I worried about my pet, I boldly walked up to the front door of the shack. No lights were on inside, and it looked abandoned… “Hello? Anypony home? Telegram!” I said, to no avail. I tried the door, but it was probably loc… hello, what’s this? Unlocked? Well, alrighty then. I opened the door, Mezzer raised in my telekinesis, ready to fire.

The shack was completely bare and empty. No sign of life and no sign that there had even been life in this shack for a very long time. All that was there was a desk with about an inch of dust covering it, and a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down into it. Now didn’t that look interesting. If nopony had been here for a while, there might be some prime salvage at the other end of that hole. Or something incredibly dangerous. But even then, incredibly dangerous things usually guarded good salvage, so the situation was pretty much a win-win, so long as I was careful not to die. And Ma always said to never leave the door closed when Mr. Opportunity came knocking. “Hiss!” I called, and soon the Nightstalker was standing next to me, visible again. “C’mon you, let’s go explore this hole in the ground, there might be some good stuff in there.” I said, climbing down the ladder first, looking around for anything nasty waiting at the bottom. Nothing of note was immediately noticeable. I looked up. Hiss was looking down at me, trying to place a paw on the first rung of the ladder. “Oh, right, you can’t climb down ladders…” I muttered and grabbed Hiss with my telekinesis, floating him down next to me. His legs wiggled around in the air as I levitated him down, like he was trying to swim in the air or something. I chuckled; it looked pretty funny. As soon as I set him down, he ran up next to me and whined, rubbing up against my coat. “Aww, do you not like flying?” I cooed. “Sorry, but that was the only feasible way to get you down here without you falling.” He just looked up at me. Reptilian faces were hard to read, but I think he was giving me a ‘don’t do that again’ look. Too bad, I would have to when we left, unless there was another, less vertical way out of here.

I turned, and as soon as I turned my attention down the cave, Hiss gave a growl-hiss-noise-thing (colt, that sounded weird) and rattled his tail threateningly. He had spotted something down the tunnel, though I couldn’t see anything, I was going to trust his judgment, seeing as nightstalkers had both superior eyesight and sense of smell when compared to ponies. “You see something, boy? Sic’em!” I said. Hiss turned invisible, and his shimmer leapt forward into the darkness with me close behind.

We ran down the tunnel a little ways, and soon what Hiss had seen became clear. Two bark scorpions had made their nest here, and were facing us, tails raised and sharp pincers ready. They started to skitter towards me. “Crud.” I said, backpedaling. I took aim with Mezzer and fired at one of the scorpions. It stopped in its tracks as soon as the pulse wave the Mezzer emitted hit it, but it still looked alive, just stunned or something. I danced backwards as the other one struck out at me with its tail. Firing again, the same result happened. The pulse stunned the scorpion, and it just stood there, looking as dazed as a giant arachnid can look.

Before I could fire again, though, invisible fangs sunk into the scorpion’s carapace, and Hiss appeared, ripping through the giant bug’s back as though its armored exoskeleton was no more than tissue paper. Those fangs were sharp. The scorpion died, slumping down onto its belly, and I looked up to see that the other one had suffered the same fate. Well, then. “Good boy, Hiss!” I praised my little nightstalker. “Thank you for killing those mean ol’ scorpions for mama!” I patted him on the head, his tail making a rattle noise as he wagged it. “Let’s go.” I said, continuing forward into the cave. I was still soaking wet from the rain, and the cold of the underground wasn’t doing me or my core temperature any favors. I stopped after a while of walking, saying, “Ok, Hiss, let’s dry off before we continue on. I’ll start a fire.” I reached into my bag and grabbed my tinderbox, then removed my wet leather barding, setting it aside so it would dry in the soon-to-be-lit fire.

After going back and getting the now-unused parts of the bark scorpion nest to use as fuel, I soon had a roaring fire going. I had also taken the liberty of cutting the tails off of the scorpions, using some of their exoskeleton plates as an impromptu frying pan to fry up some scorpion tail steak. I also took the poison glands and while the steak was cooking, used some of the junk I had in my bags to distill some antivenom from them. Pa had taught me how to cook and make stuff using only the most minimal of tools, and I must admit, I was rather good at it, if I do say so myself. The fire was warming me up nicely, and I was nearly dry again, only my mane and tail were still damp. Turning the steak to fry on the other side, I looked around again, making sure the light wasn’t attracting anything unnecessarily toothy in our general direction. Hiss was curled up next to the fire, his fur steaming. My barding was doing much the same, although it was far less cute. Did I just call Hiss cute? Well, he was. Never thought I’d think that of a nightstalker. How the times change… what was that?

A glint of firelight shined off of something down the tunnel. Metal? Glass? Something shiny? Only one answer to those possibilities, investigate! I got up, leaving my barding and bag, wearing only the old Royal Guard shoe that had been given to me a long time ago when I was little on my front left hoof, and the ski-goggles that I sometimes wore to ward off dust storms was perched on my forehead above my horn. I levitated Mezzer with me too, just in case. It wasn’t that far, though, and I didn’t see anything ahead, except the shiny thing, of course. Hiss perked up as I moved, and he got up to follow me.

The shiny thing turned out to be a door. A large, gear-shaped door with a huge number ‘11’ engraved in the center. I had stumbled upon a Stable. I’d heard of them, and I’d even sold a few Stable ponies too stupid to tell a slaver from a friend, but I had never actually seen one. “Would you look at that, Hiss! It’s Stable 11.” I said. There was a control panel next to the door, but a cursory examination told me that it was locked up tighter than Ma’s door when Fiddlesticks and her were discussing the finances of the casino. Don’t know why she saw fit to lock the door because of that, but I hadn’t asked any further questions, ‘cause she had looked like she was going to tan my hide if I didn’t shut my trap.

A whirring noise came from above me, and I looked up. Nothing but a few spider webs. Weird. Hiss started to growl-hiss, and I heard a sound similar to the sound my horn made when I started casting a spell… was there another unicorn around? I looked, but saw nothing. Hiss disappeared. “Hold up, what’s going on?” I said, then my eyes were assaulted with the brightest flash of light I’d ever seen, and I fell unconscious to the floor.


Ma and Pa hadn’t been speaking to each other for a week now, ever since I got my cutie mark. At first I thought it had been because of something I did, but Pa said that it wasn’t my fault at all. “You don’t need to worry about us, Coin dear.” Pa had said. “Your mother and I just need… some space from each other right now. She didn’t even stop… just told me to leave…” he had then muttered. I don’t think I was supposed to hear that last part.

“Why are Ma and Pa fighting?” I asked Lucky Shot. The entertainment mare smiled at me, though her eyes looked sad.

“Oh, honey, they just have some issues to work out is all.” She said. “Fiddlesticks was… playing with your mom when your dad wanted to, and your dad’s a little upset about it.”

I thought about this for a moment. “Well, why didn’t Fiddlesticks and Pa share Ma? Ma says good fillies always share.” Lucky spurted the drink she had been drinking out of her nose and started coughing and laughing all at the same time.

“O-oh, darling, one day you’ll understand better…” she wheezed, still giggling. What was so funny? “But I don’t think it’s my place to tell you… you’ll have to ask your Ma or Pa.”

“I already asked them, and they basically just said the same thing you did!” I shouted, frustrated. I stormed out of the room, leaving behind a sad-looking Lucky Shot. Why was she sad? It wasn’t her parents that were fighting!

“‘Scuse me, little filly?” Somepony asked. I looked up. A black-coated earth pony stallion with a red mane and scars all over a large portion of his face and front legs looked down at me. He had a cage for his cutie mark, and was wearing ski goggles. He was standing right outside the door where Lucky and I were talking.

“Welcome to the Slot Casino, where you can get gambling and non-broccoli dishes, all in one place!” I said, with forced enthusiasm. Just because I was upset didn’t mean I couldn’t make a sale. “I’m Coin Slot, and my Ma and Pa own the place! How can I help you?”

“Heh, you’re a helpful little one, aren’t you?” the stallion said. “My name is…” he looked up at the stage for a second. “Uh, Mic… Stand. Mic Stand. Yeah.” I raised my eyebrow at him.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stand. We don’t need to know your real name to serve you!” I said, giggling a little.

“Well, helpful and smart too! Say, maybe you can help me out, little one.” ‘Mike’ said. “I’m looking for somepony who’s good with tools. I need him so my client can fix something very important. You wouldn’t happen to know anypony like that, would you? I’ll make it worth your while to point them out to me.”

Fiddlesticks was good with tools. Maybe the solution to Ma and Pa’s fighting was standing right in front of me… but this guy sounded… fishy. Not to mention he looked like bad news turned over twice and dragged in by the cat. “What do you mean?” I asked, bringing out the big guns and giving him the best puppy-eyes I could.

He looked around. Other patrons were busy playing games or eating, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable. “We should talk somewhere more private, if you’re really interested. I can tell you now that you can consider me to be Mr. Opportunity.” He knocked twice on the floor. “And I’m a’knocking.”

I gasped. This stallion was Mr. Opportunity! “Quick, Mr. O, you can, uh, come to my room!” I said. “Nopony goes there but me. And Ma when she tucks me into bed, but it’s still daytime.”

He chuckled. “Lead the way, Miss. Slot.” He said. Wow, I’m a ‘Miss.’ now! That’s so cool! I lead him up the stairs and to the back past the guest rooms to my room. I was a little embarrassed when he walked in and looked at my Guard of Honor and Swordmares comic posters, but he didn’t say anything until the door was closed. “Alright, Ms. Slot. I’ll get right to business. I buy and sell ponies for labor and entertainment purposes, and my client needs a repair pony to work for him for an indefinite amount of time, and he can’t afford to pay a salary to a contractor, so he asked me to find such a pony for him. I know you have somepony here who works on the slot machines and has the necessary repair skills that my client requires. I’m prepared to buy him from you, should you wish to sell him.”

“Sell… ponies?” I asked, confused. I had never considered the idea before. “That seems… wrong…” I said.

“Your repair pony is under your family’s employ, yes?” Mr. Opportunity asked.

“Well, yeah…” I replied.

“So, therefore, his contract belongs to you, right?”

“I guess…”

“Then what’s the problem? It’s a simple transaction of caps for a contract.” He said.

“Well… our contract with him does include a salary…” I said, still unsure about this whole thing.

“That will be taken care of when the contract is transferred between owners.” Mr. Opportunity quickly stated. He clearly wanted me to agree with this. After a while of watching me deliberate, he said, “You know, I couldn’t help but overhear that your parents seem to have some sort of disagreement. Do you know the cause?”

I looked down at my hooves. “Oh, you heard that, huh?” I said. I was slightly ashamed about my outburst now. “My Ma was playing with Fiddlesticks, and Pa doesn't like it…”

“Would this ‘Fiddlesticks’ be your repair pony?” the black stallion asked. “And would his absence perhaps fix the relationship between your parents?”

I looked back up. I hadn’t thought of that. “…how many caps are we talking about here?” I asked.

He thought for a while. “I’ll pay you 200 caps now, just for the information that Fiddlesticks is indeed your repair pony. If you help me capture him, I’ll give you another 300 caps, and I’ll even throw in some equipment to help you with your future endeavors.”

500 caps?! That’s more money than I’ve ever had at once… ever! That could cover the casino’s expenses (provided nopony wins any jackpots, which sometimes happens. Ma hates it when it does.) for like, a whole month! And I could do Fiddlesticks’s job well enough, in fact, now that we got all our slot machines converted with the discovery of my new special talent, Fiddlesticks has mostly just been hanging out in Ma’s office helping her with the ledgers. I know she doesn't actually need help… and getting rid of him might help Ma and Pa… “F… Fiddlesticks is our repair pony, yes.” I said. “I could get him outside of the casino, alone and at night… if you take care of the rest…” I didn’t even try to haggle the price up, I was so nervous about this. Mr. Opportunity grinned.

“That’s my little filly. I can tell you’re going to go far, kid.” He said. “Tell ya what, I like you. I’m going to tell my associates about you, if ya ever decide to get into this business, go to either the Wild Herd or Old Appleoosa and tell ‘em that… Mr. Opportunity sent you. Heh. There’s plenty of caps to be made, selling ponies. I’ll meet you and the goods a little ways south from here tonight after midnight, alright?” he said, pulling out a bag. “Here’s the first 200 caps. You’ll get the remainder when the goods are delivered.”

“Goods?” I asked.

He sighed. “It’s a little easier to think of Fiddlesticks as goods rather than a pony. You’ll understand soon enough.”

“Oh. Ok.” I said. I didn’t quite understand, but I figured that a pony that makes his living selling other ponies would know best. “I’ll bring the goods tonight. I shouldn’t have any trouble sneaking past Pa, he’s been drinking more…” I accidentally let some worry into my voice. Don’t cry… don’t cry… whatever you do… don’t…

Tears formed in my eyes, and I started to sob. Mr. Opportunity looked around; he looked like he didn’t quite know what to do.

“Um…there, there,” He said, patting my head. I ran up to him and hugged his scarred leg, crying into his black coat. He sat there and let me sob on him for a while, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He looked up at my Guard of Honor poster again. “Hey, kid… um… take these. As a gift. Sorry about your dad… I know how that feels…” he said, reaching into his pack. He pulled out an armored horseshoe, and took off his ski goggles. His deep blue eyes looked sad, and there was an X-shaped scar over the space between his eyes that had been covered by the goggles. I looked at the two items.

“T-t-that horseshoe…” I said.

“Used to belong to a Canterlot Royal Guard, way back before the war. Who knows, maybe it was in the same room as the Princesses at some point. Just like Guard of Honor, huh?” he said. I nodded, smiling. “And my goggles will prove useful to you if you want to wander the wasteland, I can make do without ‘em. Here’s a little advice for my new favorite filly… don’t cry in front of my associates. And protect your eyes.” He gestured to his scarred face. “There’s a reason I can still see even after all of this. Treasure your senses. They’re what keep you alive out there.”

“Thank you, Mr. O! I’ll be sure to get Fiddlesticks to you none the wiser!” I said, cheered up. That horseshoe was cool! A little big for me now, but I’m sure I’d grow into it. And the goggles covered nearly all of my face, but the headband was elastic, so they still fit.

“See that you do. I’ll see you later.” Mr. Opportunity said, walking out of my room and back down to the casino floor. After a while, I picked up a Guard of Honor comic from my shelf and read it. The Guard was fighting against a brown-maned Traitor pony that was threatening the stability of the family unit in Equestria in this issue. He was doing it to, of course, help his Zebra boss take over Equestria. And of course, at the end, the Guard of Honor defeated the Traitor and saved the day, same as always.

Right now, it was my favorite comic of all.


I woke up from yet another childhood-related dream. What was making me re-live my childhood? Usually my dreams were about ridiculous stuff like Equestria being healed or the sun coming back or something. I wonder if it means anything… where am I?

I looked around. I was strapped to a table. Ok, first bad sign. My goggles were still on my forehead, but Mezzer was nowhere to be found and my Guard of Honor shoe was missing. I hadn’t taken that shoe off since it would fit me (except to wash it and my hoof, of course. Wouldn’t want either of them getting all grungy). This was the second bad sign. My barding was theoretically still in the tunnel where I used to be, and Hiss was also nowhere to be found. Third bad sign. There seemed to be a lot of those. The room I was in was stark gray metal, with medical machines all around my table, thought thankfully none of them were hooked up to me. The last thing I needed was to be in the hooves of some crazy doctor. I strained against the straps that held me down, and tried to pry them open with my telekinesis. No luck, the straps were actually mechanical shackles. I looked around for a control panel or terminal. It must have been in another room or something, because I couldn’t see it.

It was then that I noticed two other things. Firstly, I had a blue with yellow trimming jumpsuit on. It had a large number 11 on the sides. Secondly, I had one of those fancy PipBuck things on my right foreleg. It was off. My breathing started to speed up. I was trapped… strapped down… calm down, calm down. No need for a panic attack, you can handle this, Coin. Think logically.

I was obviously inside the Stable now, probably its medical bay, judging by the equipment around me, although it could just as easily be a storage closet. There was nopony else around. I had probably been… examined… and put in this jumpsuit and given this PipBuck, then strapped to this table. How I was brought into this Stable and why was still a mystery.

Time to get some answers to those mysteries. I looked at my (funny how I thought it was mine… it was technically given to me) PipBuck and focused. I needed to turn it on. From what I had seen of Stable ponies and their PipBucks (when I sold them), these things had a radio, automap, and some sort of situational-awareness aid. It was the second and third things that I needed the most right now. I didn’t know how to turn these things on, or indeed if they would even work for anypony other than ponies who were born in Stables. But I did know that they used magical matrices to operate, and if there was one thing I could do, it was work with magical matrices. My horn glowed and I closed my eyes.

A latticework of green, blue, and amber lines and dots covered my vision on the insides of my eyelids. A magical matrix. Several, actually, and all of them fairly complicated, but not impossible to navigate. Whoever made these matrices really knew what they were doi… oh, look. A signature, coded into the matrix. Designed By Stable-Tec. Oh, right, Stable-Tec made the Stables and everything associated with them. How the feather did I forget that?

In any case, the matrices were well designed and logical, even though they did a lot. I easily found the power-control matrix. Rotating the line-switch that broke the circuit back into the ‘true’ position, I came out of the matrix, my horn dimming as I opened my eyes. Lines of text flew into my vision as the fetlock-mounted computer booted up.

>PipBuck 3000 booting up

>Stable-Tec OS online

>Data Organizer online

>Diagnostic Protocols online

>Inventory Sorter online

>E.F.S. online

>S.A.T.S. operational

>Welcome New User! Registering PipBuck Tag…

>PipBuck Tag registered. Welcome, Coin Slot!

Huh? How did it know my name?

>Registering Stable…

>Stable 11 Registered. Map and protocols downloaded from mainframe

>User Interface online

A picture of a smiling mare appeared on the screen of my (most certainly mine now) PipBuck, with little bars pointing to certain body parts with the letters CND next to them. They were all full. I think this is a health diagnostic screen or something, that’s interesting. I’ll have to examine the full potential of this device later, though. I knew it had wireless capabilities, so I closed my eyes and reached into the matrix for them, my horn starting up its red glow again, the same color as the Sparkle-Cola cap on my cutie mark. After following the trails of colored lines through the organized-chaos of the PipBucks many matrices (there were now even more of them now that the thing was on), I located what I was pretty sure was a PipBuck-to-Unregistered-Device communications node. It had several items logged onto it. One of them was Hoof_Restraint.TBL. I quickly accessed that process and twisted the restraint’s lock matrix open. It was far easier to access the lock with the PipBuck’s integrated communications equipment than with my horn alone, and soon the restraints clicked open as I gave them a false positive for their key being nearby and activated. Go me. This PipBuck was going to make just about anything that had wireless communications and a magical matrix dance for me. Since most all technology in the days before the war was being integrated into one massive network by the MoM and MAS (at least, I saw their signatures all over the place on other matrices), this little trick was going to be really helpful, I could just tell. The one downside is that took a little longer than I thought it would, I had to navigate the maze of matrices in the PipBuck before actually getting to my objective.

I sat up and got off the table, gathering my bearings. As soon as I got up, symbols appeared in the corners of my vision. What was this? A compass with yellow bars moving around on it was in one corner, and a bar that was labeled S.A.T.S Charge was in the other. Before I could make heads or tails of this, the door to the room I was in hissed open.

Oh… My…

I felt weak at the knees, and my heart rate skyrocketed. In had trotted the most handsome, clean, and simply hot stallion that I had ever seen. Even his light musky scent sent me straight into a hormone-addled mindset that I was perfectly content to sit in. He had a light blue coat with a dark blue mane and tail. His cutie mark was a sparkling tower shield like in the Guard of Honor comics I read when I was little. He was also wearing a similar jumpsuit to mine (oh my gosh, skintight jumpsuits are a gift from Celestia) and a PipBuck. Perched on his nose was a pair of half-moon glasses that did nothing but add allure to his perfect features. A finely filed and obviously well-cared-for horn adorned his forehead, making me self-conscious about my own not-so-well-cared-for horn. In fact, compared to him, even with my recent rain-soaking, I was a total mess. His mane and tail were well-brushed, his coat trimmed, his fetlocks flush with the edges of his hooves… this stallion obviously knew he looked good and was not afraid to enhance his looks even further… “Uh…” I said. Oh, nice, smooth one, Coin. Why don’t you drool while you’re at it.

“Well,” the perfect stallion said. Good gravy, even his voice was hot! I felt a distinct warmth in my loins. Keep it together Coin. Keep. It. Together. “What have we here? And here I was hoping such a pretty little thing like you was still tied up for me.”

I nearly strapped myself back down then and there. But my brain was frozen at the fact that he had just called me pretty.

Apparently either not noticing or not caring that I was being an utter vegetable in front of him, he continued. “You must be resourceful, being able to get out of our restraint table all by yourself without a key. It is magic resistant, so unless you’re used to lifting up reactor cores with your telekinesis, I know you didn’t use that to get out.” He leaned in close to my face. “I like resourcefulness. It show’s that you’re… creative.”

Think of math. Math is good. 2 times 2 is 4. 4 times 4 is 16. 16 times 16 is… uh…

He turned around, facing the door.

It’s beautiful…

“My name is Shimmercoat.” He said, looking back at me. My eyes snapped up from the most glorious sight ever to grace ponykind to meet his gaze, a bright red flush flooding onto my face. Oh, please tell me he didn’t notice me staring, please tell me he didn’t notice… “And I” he continued, staring at me straight in the eye. “Am the Overstallion of Stable 11. Welcome to your new home, outsider!”

Level up! (Lv. 3)

New Perk: Honor Guard: Remembering your childhood heroes has inspired you to be tougher. You gain +3 DT, and when defending others you gain an additional +3.

New Quest Perk: Stable Grounds: You are now an official resident of Stable 11. You gain +1 to Charisma and +5 to Speech and Barter, along with a PipBuck!

PipBuck 3000 acquired! You can now use EFS and SATS, as well as the many other features a PipBuck has to offer.

Author’s Note: HUGE thanks to Kkat for writing Fallout: Equestria and giving us sidefic writers a great big sandbox to play in. Also thanks to ErrantIndy and Shimmercoat (who is totally not cameoing in this, no sir) for help editing and proofreading this slog to make it something enjoyable. And thanks to all who hang out at the Sidefic Compilation doc for providing feedback and inspiration to write my own story. Also thanks to Bethesda and Hasbro for two great franchises. Hope you enjoy!