Duet in the Dust

by David Silver

5 - Relics of the Past

The jagged and rough lines of the former settlement rose from the gently rolling hills. Those buildings may have once risen tall and proud, but they were barely more than the faint reminders. The concrete of the sidewalks they walked along were shattered, mostly worn away. The roads had survived no better, beaten and destroyed by the elements.

Octavia looked up at a sign, stubbornly refusing to be worn away. "Yield," it read, though its paint had worn away. Its indents were still present, forming the letters. She pointed up at the sign. "Is the human language identical to the pony one when written down?"

Sandy glanced towards it. "We should be so lucky. That's Sylvan, same as we're speaking."

"<Quiet,>" spoke Hank, brief and with gravity. He stalked forward, crouched as he approached the remains of the age passed.

Vinyl nudged Octavia, whispering, "I don't know what he said, but I can guess. Less talkie, more lookie. Let's find some neat stuff." With all the stubbornly positive energy she had, she trotted down the ash-speckled and broken sidewalk towards the first building.

Octavia turned instead for a building that had been knocked almost flat. From the supports that stood and the rubble that stood in it, she guessed it was never a large building, perhaps a single family home? She stepped towards it even as the others pressed for more impressive looking buildings.

Let them, she silently decided. She would look where they didn't, and find what they could not. She stepped over the threshold of the ruined building and felt... something. The taste of the old and gone. The feel of... safety. This had been a home, loved and cherished.

Then its owners had died, lost to the great... thing... that had destroyed the world. Octavia shook her head, freeing herself of the impressions she had felt, but they were still there, calling her. She turned left and right, slowly looking around. They came from a specific place, a specific... thing... She walked right into a pile of broken wood, collapsing onto it. The wood splintered and disintegrated, weakened with countless years.

She scrambled up to her hooves with a quiet swear. She quickly brushed away the wood splinters from her pelt, then reached out to do the same to the ground, brushing away the wood further and further. The decay wasn't complete, and she found where the soft wood became hard. She had to nuzzle under it and lift it up. With a great heave, she flopped it up and over, sending it crashing just to the right. The room exploded with dust, the impact shaking loose all the remaining rotten wood in a cloud that had her coughing and gasping for breath.

Footfalls approached swiftly. "Are you alright?" asked Sandy just as her hand appeared, grabbing a still erect slab of wood and pulling the rest of her into view. "Octavia?"

Octavia waved a hoof wildly, warding away the dust as her coughs slowly ebbed. "I'm... I'm fine. I was just searching."

Sandy waved around the dismal remains of the small building. "In here? There's barely room for anything. Did you find something?"

Octavia turned to the wood pile. "I have... a good feeling. Please, one moment." She began to nuzzle under the next slab of hard wood to get it out of the way.

Suddenly, the wood lifted faster than she did. Sandy had grabbed hold of it and lifted it with her. "We're a team, and we can be quieter together than throwing things around." Octavia smiled gently and accepted the help. They began clearing the way, taking the wood slabs outside instead of tossing them aside. "Some of this is usable. If we don't find anything else, a little wood is better than nothing."

Octavia nodded, pleased she had found something, but the feeling hadn't faded. She resumed digging in the rubble. The hard wood was gone, only soft bits of rotten wood, ceiling tar squares, and smaller bits of broken wood remained for her to work through. She ran into what might have once been a cushion. The years had not been kind to it. Even lifting it was enough to cause it to fall apart, bits of fluff and fabric cascading down in a mess.

There was something beneath it. Octavia reached for it, only for Sandy's hand to suddenly dart past her outreached hoof, grabbing a small object from the fluff pile. Octavia's eyes followed the motion, frowning.

"Better safe than sorry," explained Sandy. "Assuming things are harmless is a good way to get hurt." She turned the thing in her hand. Once the fluff was dusted away from it, it became more clear it was a toy, a toy car. It was long and sleek, a toy racecar. "Cute. I wonder..." She set it on the ground and flicked some hidden switch on it. It suddenly raced ahead with the sound of a tiny motor until it bumped into some rubble. "Still works!"

Octavia's frown eased. She had found something. She had pulled her weight, hopefully... "Is that worth taking back?"

"It sure is." She quickly grabbed the car back up. "Small, and..." she shook it lightly even as she turned it back off. "It probably has a battery in it, and it clearly works. The parts aren't useless either. A perfectly valuable little trinket. You have a nose for this." She tucked the car away for carrying. "Let's go."

Octavia shook her head slowly. "I still feel... something." She turned back to her target, brushing the debris out of the way. In one of her brushes, she knocked something aside. It made a plastic sound as it struck the floor. Octavia coiled to find it. It was a pony, a doll of a pony, made of plastic. She reached for it and gently lifted it. There was... history in it. She could feel the faintest hint in it. She couldn't make sense of what it was... trying to say? She drew it close. It defied the years, a bright blue and yellow, like a pony wearing some kind of form-fitting suit. Beige fur and blond mane and tail to go with a bright, almost cocky, smile on its little snout.

"What'd you find?" Sandy crouched down for a better view. "Oh, it's... one of those..." She snapped her fingers repeatedly, trying to remember it. "Sally! Sunset Sally."

Octavia lifted up the doll carefully. Despite being made of plastic, it had several points that could swivel, making it very flexible and adjustable. "Sunset Sally... Is it... worth anything?"

Sandy shook her head. "I mean, it's plastic, sure, but that shape? Not much we can do with it. Just a trinket, but it's in great shape. You really do have a knack for this." She reached out. "May I?" Octavia nodded and Sandy brushed off the doll without taking it from Octavia, seeming to admire the bright colors of the doll. "You could probably trade it. I bet it'll make someone very happy to own it."

Octavia considered it a moment. She could... No. She pulled it closer again, wrapping her arms around it. "I'd prefer to keep it. May I?"

Sandy stood up as she nodded. "Nothing saying you can't. Only practical trinkets and finds have to be turned over to the town for use." A smile split her face. "Guess I was right." When Octavia looked up at her, Sandy gestured at the doll. "It's making someone very happy. I don't think I've seen you smile before now like that."

Octavia pulled a hoof away from the hug to feel her cheek. It was straining to hold the smile on her face. She had never been... so attached to dolls, and it was of a pony she knew nothing about. And yet... She tucked the doll away, feeling just a little lighter. "Thank you." She could feel her expression gently ebbing to a more refined state. "We should continue. A battery is well and good, but I imagine Randal--" She couldn't help the momentary sourness on her face. "--is hoping for more than just that racecar and a single stretch of wood."

"Right you are." Sandy turned away, but hesitated from leaving. "You know, maybe I'll stay here. It's safer to explore in groups." She gestured to where the doll vanished to. "By the way... are you going to tell me what spell that was, and when you learned magic?"

Octavia rose to her hooves. "Whatever do you mean?" She looked back to near her rump where the doll was secured. "I simply placed it in my pocket. That is no act of magic."

Sandy shook her head as she pulled out the lips of her physical pockets in her pants. "These are pockets. They are sewn." She pointed to Octavia's rump. "That is skin and flesh. It should not have pockets, and I don't even see a bulge where the doll went. I so very much want to just reach and start looking for it, but I'm fairly certain that would be rude."

"Very much so," hastily agreed Octavia, taking a step back away from the human, lest she be groped at by questing fingers. "I am glad you have more manners than the human foal. Let's... focus on the task at hoof."

In another building, a tall one that still stood a few stories tall, Vinyl looked around with the other two humans. She bobbed her head in time to the music that filled her ears, her horn glowing with the effort of keeping her device working without draining its batteries.

Fitting with the theme of the world, Vinyl bobbed to the beat of the heavy metal that filled her senses. There she was, picking through the bones of an ancient society, blown apart in some, probably awesome, display. She grinned a little as she knocked a rock aside, peeking under it, nothing.

Of course, even if she didn't find anything, she'd still be considered 'useful'. She frowned a little at that. It wasn't that she minded being handy to have around, but just for fighting? Her music was meant for more than that. She picked her way around the debris, fallen cement and tiles from floors that had once been above them. A faint draft made her ears go up.

It wasn't coming from the wastes, or even towards it. She turned and faced the debris she had just gone around. With a commanding wave of her hoof, she began tossing bits and bobs aside a little at a time to the same energetic beat of the music in her ears. She smiled as stairs leading downwards came into view. "This place has a basement."

She descended onto those stairs without a hint of hesitation. "Let there be light." Her horn was already glowing, just increasing in intensity to scare away the darkness as she descended the narrow stairs.

"What you find?" Tim appeared at the lip of the stairs. "Wait. Vinyl." She wasn't waiting, so he hurried to catch up with her, racing down the stairs and slapping a hand down on her shoulder. "Danger."

Vinyl stopped when she was grabbed, but waved the warning away. "There's two of us, we'll be fine!" She directed the same hoof at the metal door at the end of the stairs. "Don't you want to see what's past it?" Visions of piles of gold, or electronic bits, or maybe a really metal-looking monster all danced equally in her mind. "Let's see it."

Tim did not seem to have the same enthusiasm, but he did not stop Vinyl from advancing. She waved a hoof at the door, willing it to open. It rattled, the handle-knob jiggling about but not turning. "Huh, locked..."

He advanced around her. "<Give me a moment.>" He pulled out several slender bits of metal and crouched in front of the very door he had advised against. He peered into the depths of its key slot as he prodded inside it. "<I know my way around a lock...>"

Vinyl watched him, head bobbing. In the darkness, her head motions made the light of her horn dance and sway.

"<Hold it still.>" When that failed to get a response, he switched to his more clumsy Sylvan, "No move."

Vinyl shot up a hoof in affirmation and stopped her natural bobbing. She played with her headphones with her magic, changing what was playing from a rocking metal anthem to a more sedate but tense spy jingle. "Dum dum, duh-dum," she sang under her breath with a smile.

He gently felt and raked the tumblers, trying to jostle them into the right position even as he turned and twisted the knob. It was a brute force method, but usually fastest by far. "<Almost...>" He felt the tumblers falling back to reset with his failure. He could have sworn he felt it almost give way. He just had to try harder, and he resumed his raking. "<Do you know how to handle a pick?>"

"No idea what you're saying, but that sounded like a question."

"<It's alright. Not many do.>" He sighed as the tumblers fell back down. Close... "<It takes patience.>" He stuck out his tongue just a little as he tried his hands once more. "<To get that... feel...>" The handle was turning, he just had to...

With a firm twist, the door swung open, only to bash directly into his face. The deep and diseased canine howl ripped through the narrow space as some kind of fetid canine... thing... lunged to be free of the darkness, snapping wildly at the space provided. Only Tim's body held the door shut enough to prevent the thing from escaping, and he was being shoved away by its desperate scrambling claws on the cement floor.

A shot rendered both Tim and Vinyl deaf a moment, both raising their hands to cover their ears. The thing was shot directly in the head, Hank on his knees at the top of the stairs, his rifle pointed down at them. "<Get out,>" he ordered in his terse way, shouting at them.

It wasn't dead. Any creature should have been dead, but this one was not. Stunned perhaps, but already recovered, and shoving against the door. "<I can't run.>" Tim threw himself against the door, bashing the thing with the metal. "<It'll get out!>" His nose was bleeding from where the door had struck him first, but his focus was on the monster.

Vinyl suddenly felt her music was wildly inappropriate, but there was no time to adjust it for better. She had to help, but she was just a pony. A magic pony. A magic pony of rock! She hopped forward, almost sliding down the steps with her clumsy landing. "In the name of every awesome vinyl I've listened to, I banish you!" Her horn began to glow with a newer, whiter, glow.

Hank took the next shot, but, besides hurting ears, he only impacted on the heavy door, adding a dent. Fortunately, the bullet didn't ricochet off of it.

Tim flinched away from where the shot had landed, which was enough space to let the beast free. With a sudden shove, it threw him back against the wall and burst out, decayed looking jaws open unnaturally wide as the decaying hound lunged for Vinyl, ready to make her its first meal in quite some time.

A not-small part of her mind screamed for her to run as far and fast as she could, but she instead lowered her head, directing her horn at the beast. She recited the name of all the death metal bands she knew, as if calling on them to assist her in that time of need.

It was on her, its fetid claws digging into her front, its jaws closing around her, and coming into contact with her brilliant horn. The magic flashed and the thing staggered back, its body betraying it. "Y-yeah!" cried out Vinyl, happy her spell had worked, even if she felt pain to go with it, numbed as it was by the adrenaline.

She felt the wind of a bullet streaking too close to her face from behind. It impacted the rotten head of the thing and it exploded like a bashed old pumpkin, falling to mush and bits at their feet. "Yeah!" She called out again. "We won! Yeah!" She turned towards Hank. "Aw yeah, that was a great shot!"

Tim pushed the door away, sliding the corpse enough to get out from behind it. "Pony--Vinyl, alright?"

"Dude, you're the one bleeding." Vinyl cocked a brow from behind her goggles before looking down at herself. "Oh, so am I..." Several angry lines were blazed across her white pelt, blood flowing freely. "It's, uh..." It was worse than Tim had gotten, by a good measure. "Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't Panic." She was stuck in repeat, trying to keep herself calm.

Hank shouldered his rifle and rushed down the stairs. Without a word, he suddenly shoved Vinyl to the ground. Before she could even finish a good yelp, he jabbed something into her neck. "Dude! Not... cool." She faded from the waking world, going limp.

Tim nodded stiffly. "<She mighta hurt herself more.>" He looked into the darkness they had gained entry to. "<I'll check for... more.>" He pulled out a flashlight, clicking it on. Without Vinyl there, it had grown all the more oppressive.

Hank was not paying attention to Tim. He crouched down beside his patient and began cutting away the fur immediately around the injuries, cleaning them, and applying bandages to the injured pony. The worst of them, he began to thread carefully, conducting field surgery without hesitation. It was crude, but it held the injuries shut to minimize the odds of infection or continued blood loss.

He sprayed the affected areas with an anti-microbial concoction, then stood up. She was as bandaged as he could manage.

"<What's going on over here!?>" came the concerned call of Sandy just before she and Octavia appeared at the top of the stairs, both looking down with equal fear.

Octavia saw the limp form of Vinyl and took off in a flash, almost hurling herself down the stairs as her franting steps missed a step or two along the way. "Vinyl! Vinyl, are you alright?!" She hurried to Vinyl's side and reached for her, hesitating when she saw the bandages that covered her front. "Dear Vinyl... Please be alright..."

The light from deeper inside swung around. Tim lowered it to face Octavia. "Hank gave her a quick field dressing. She should be alright. We found this room and that... thing in it." He waved the cone of light towards the ghastly corpse.

Octavia flinched away when her attention was brought to the corpse that looked like it had been slain a few times. "What is that... thing?"

Hank stepped over it, pressing onward to join Tim. Silently, he pulled out a flashlight of his own and began to investigate what looked to be a standard basement.

Sandy reached them, less haphazardly fast than Octavia had been. "<That looks undead as all get out. Figure it has any diseases we should be worried about?>"

Tim shrugged his shoulders. "<Couldn't say. It's dead now, don't touch it.>"

"I can't understand either of you." Octavia took a slow breath, nose wrinkling against the foul stench of the creature. "I'm going to take Vinyl away from that... whatever it happens to be." She nuzzled under Vinyl and slid her up onto her back. "Come on. A little fresh air will help..." She retreated back up the stairs, leaving the humans to their work.

The sound of a knuckle rapping on something metal drew Sandy and Tim towards Hank. He was kneeling beside something. Sandy closed quickly. "<Is that what I think it is?>"

Tim whistled softly. "<That's a generator, isn't it?>" He circled around to come at it from the opposite side as Sandy. "<Looks like our trip was worth it.>"

Hank hefted it, gauging its weight with a low grunt of effort before he let it back to the ground softly. The fact that he had lifted it at all was hint enough. Sandy came in from one end as Tim grabbed the other, and they grabbed a bar each, lifting it up easily with a spot of teamwork.

Sandy waved around with a free hand. "<See if there's any fuel around to go with it, likely bad, but worth the shot. It'll tell us what kind this thing takes.>" Once Hank nodded, she moved towards the stairs, Tim following behind. They ascended towards the light with their precious cargo.

Octavia set Vinyl down gently with a sturdy slab of cement to support her. "Now then, you are permitted to awaken, Miss Scratch. Your performance is not yet concluded." She clopped her forehooves. "We can't have you sleeping on the job, much as I am aware you enjoy your naps."

There was no response from the sleeping unicorn. Octavia reached and did just as she had said not to do, plunging a hoof into Vinyl's pocket and rooting around. She felt something small and metal bump into her hoof and carefully pulled it free. It was a little figurine of one of the superhero mares Vinyl had read about in one of her comics. Octavia smiled at it, thinking of the goofy happy expression Vinyl tended to wear when she was reading a comic that really tickled her fancy. "I seem to be magnetically drawn to false ponies." She tucked the figurine away into her own pocket. "I pray you will not mind that I hold onto that for now."

"Mmm?" Vinyl's eyes opened a crack behind her goggles. "Nnng, what happened?" She suddenly started awake, sitting up. "What happened to that... oh yeah." She calmed down, her heart rate dropping back down. "Hank shot it, pow! You have any idea how loud those things are in closed spaces?"

Octavia answered with a sudden hug, squeezing Vinyl tightly and silently.

Sandy emerged from the basement, the generator coming up behind her, held with one hand on a bar. "Vinyl, Octavia?" Behind her emerged Tim, holding the other and of it by a bar much like she was. "We've found something worth keeping. You two alright?"

Vinyl bounced to her hooves, or tried. Octavia was not releasing her. "Oof, uh, hey! Great! What is that? Looks like... a camping generator?"

Sandy set the generator down, prompting Tim to do much the same. "It is exactly that. I'm glad to see you're awake. How do you feel?"

Octavia finally released Vinyl, nodding at her. "Yes, how are you feeling? You... I was worried..."

Vinyl flashed a bright grin at her partner. "You shoulda seen it! I blasted that thing with the power of rock! I mean, sure, woulda been nice if I coulda done that before it started using me as a scratching post or whatevs, but I did it!"

Octavia patted her friend's shoulder gently. "You did it," she agreed. "Please don't do that again. They have weapons, let them use them. Getting yourself torn apart will hardly improve the situation for anypony, especially yourself."

Vinyl nudged at Octavia laughing merrily despite the dangerous situation. "You're just being worried, and I appreciate it. You're like a mom I don't mind living with."

Octavia's cheeks warmed rapidly. "I am nopony's mother!"

Sandy gestured down the stairs. "There are other things down in that basement. Who found it?"

Vinyl's hoof shot up. "Me! Tim helped though. He got the door open, totally deserves credit."

Though he may have missed some of those words, he could pick up that Vinyl was sharing the glory and smiled. "<We worked as a team, and survived as one.> Thank you." He emphasized the last bit with a nod towards Vinyl. "Pony magic is good."

"Yeah it is," easily agreed Vinyl with a grin. "So what else is down there?"

Author's Note:

Vinyl cast cure light wounds, it was very effective.

Any guesses what Octavia might become?

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Comments

[Chrome Masquerade]

He sprayed the affected areas with an anti-microbial concoction, then stood up. She was as bandaged as he could manage.

Sure could use a Potion right now, eh?

[RadicalDishonesty]

Any guesses what Octavia might become?

She's collecting statuettes. I figure it's related to that somehow?

So I brought all my knowledge to bear, and I learned I didn't know.

So instead I booted up the PFSRD and looked at the classes I didn't know.

And lo and behold, just one class uses "implements" to perform their casting, and for the conjuration school they use figurines. The Occultist.

...
.....

Sunset Sally? The... the sociopathic avatar of ending the world in the wastes is one of the figurines? A figurine that might be the focus for summoning a servitor? A servitor that might take the form of a spiteful endbringer? That could be bad.

[No one is home]

I'm guessing Medium!

[Crystal Treasure]

Heh, that was awesome. Not surprised at Vinyl being completely tactless, as usual. xD

It as a pony

was

[David Silver]

8962944
Fixed with a quick bit of needlework.

[FridayPie]

I'm not confident that Vynil could recognize a combustion engine, hailing from magicsteampunk world.

And Octavia got no arms , she is a pony

[smile444]

If the elements are ever used against an devil, an very fun thing to do is an cool, hilarious and unusual punishment : regress it back to lemure.

[David Silver]

8963225
Arms can refer to the forelimbs of any animal.

[StormDancer]

Ponies have pockets boyos. Can't go wrong with that.

[StormDancer]

8962922
Or epicly validating. I mean "useless pet" becomes "harbinger of doom.... for the bad guys please? I mean, Vinyl's your friend and we like Vinyl, so we're allies, right?"

[FanOfMostEverything]

Ah. I suspected Octavioccultist from all the talk of history. The question is what schools her little pony implements bestow.

I do hope Vinyl doesn't think that spell is strictly offense. If she tries it against a living foe, it could get real messy... Also, she needs to learn that she's best on support. Let the backup dancers do the work, girl.

And remember, every pony comes with a free bag of holding. Order today!

[David Silver]

8966133
Only Equestrian ponies. Everglow ponies have to carry actual bags around like physics-acknowledging scrubs.

[howard035]

8962922 I think you nailed it for Octavia. She felt the "history" of an object, that's the specific power tied to your guess. Lucky Octavia, that class is fantastic.

Do you think Vinyl is a standard bard, or a skald or some other archetype?