Fallout Equestria: Blue Destiny

by MagnetBolt

Chapter 110: Yo, Ho!

It was the best piña colada I’d ever had. It was also one of the first ones I’d ever had. Creamy, cold, pineappley. It was the perfect drink for relaxing by the side of the resort's giant inground pool. Ponies went down the volcano-shaped waterslide on the other side of the pool, splashing and laughing in the sunlight.

“Definitely not the worst place to be stuck,” I sighed. I adjusted my sunglasses and took another sip of my drink.

“I don’t belong here,” Embe mumbled. She was a little like a scared animal, staying within hoof’s reach of me and cowering away from other ponies.

“Don’t say that,” I assured her, reaching over to squeeze her hoof. “Everypony here is just curious and wants to get to know you.”

She looked at me with her empty eye sockets. “That sounds like something you tell a foal when they’re having problems at school.”

“My mom used to say it all the time,” I admitted. “I changed schools when I was pretty young because she wanted to spend time with her family. The other foals didn’t get along with me.”

“Did they bully you?” Embe asked.

“Once,” I said. “But you know what? After I put my hoof down and told them firmly to stop and beat one of them unconscious, they stopped making fun of me.”

Embe coughed, shocked. “You beat one of them unconscious?!’

“Uh. I mean, um. I told a teacher?”

She gave me a look.

“I was not well-behaved as a foal,” I mumbled.

Embe shook her head and snorted with something like laughter. My ears turned red.

“Looks like you’re enjoying the margarita machine!” Fog Cutter waved to me as he walked up to the Tiki Bar, waving the server robot down and ordering a drink. “We only got the thing working again thanks to you. Once you took her out of those cells, the robots lowered the security, so we’ve been able to go down there and find some spare parts.”

“Definitely nice to have cold drinks,” I agreed, saluting him with my pina colada. “What can I do for you?”

“You’ve already done a lot,” Fog Cutter assured me. “That’s probably why the Kahuna wants to talk to you.”

“You mean I’m finally going to get a chance to talk to the pony in charge of this place?” I snorted. “How generous of her to see me when I’ve been here for a month.”

“She’s not a bad sort.” Fog Cutter took a sip of his pale green drink. “It’s her job to keep everypony comfortable and happy, and as far as I’m concerned she’s doing a bang-up job. You have to admit, we’ve got it easy here.”

“I guess you’ve got a point. I’ll talk to here.”

“No rush,” Fog Cutter said. “We run on island time around here. If you run off she’ll be upset that she made a hassle for you. Finish your drink and we’ll head over in a while.”

I nodded. I could get used to island time.

---

Fog Cutter led me to the Kahuna’s lair, or maybe more accurately, the luxury suites of one of the resort’s hotel buildings. Instead of taking me up to one of the rooms, Fog Cutter led me into one of the defunct restaurants on the hotel’s bottom level. What had once been a Princess Burger was now something like a combination of office space and throne room.

The throne in question was behind a desk, flanked by potted plants, and made mostly out of wicker and palm fronds.

The pony sitting on it looked up from what she was doing and smiled, getting off the throne and walking around the desk. She was a large, tall pony, the same height I was and with a few extra pounds. Well, probably not literally. I probably still weighed more than her but it was in the form of very slimming heavy metals and ceramic composites. Great for the figure.

“This must be our new local hero!” she said, her voice booming. She pulled me into a quick hug, kissing my cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make time to see you before.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve been keeping busy too.”

She laughed and gave me a hearty pat on the shoulder. “So I’ve heard! Fighting off ghoulies and ghosties and saving somepony who’d suffered a terrible fate. That second thing really got my attention. Shows you’re brave, and you’ll do the right thing like saving… what was her name? I have it written down…”

She looked back at her desk. I saved her the trouble of looking for it. “Embe,” I supplied. She’d gone back to her room, across the hall from mine. She was enjoying the many holotapes the resort had to offer.

“Right,” the Kahuna nodded. “That was it. Thank you.”

“So I’m curious, what do you do, when you’re in charge of a paradise where robots do all the work?” I asked.

“Oh, they don’t nearly do all the work,” the Kahuna corrected. “Our supply of food, for example. It might look like the robots make it out of thin air, but it actually comes out of protein resequencers, and they need to be fed. That’s what the farms are for. With the right combination of crops fed into the resequencer plant, we can keep producing almost everything on the old menu. Of course, that means we need to give the farmers something in return, especially with all the hard work they do, so I have to arrange payment. And that’s just one thing. We also need to trade with the Imagineer Tribe, keep ourselves safe from raiders, decide what to do with strays like you, and manage supplies of medicine, clothing, and parts. Truth be told, most of it is me sitting here doing math all day and figuring out how to balance the books.”

“You know, that really does sound like leadership,” I admitted. “That’s how it is back home. For good leaders, I mean. It’s about maximizing the use of the resources we have.”

“I’m glad you understand,” the Kahuna said. She stepped back behind her desk and sat down. “It’s harder than you think.”

I could feel how exhausted she was. Ever since I’d woken up, whatever the thaumoframe was doing that was giving me that sixth sense had been on overdrive. I could practically put myself in her hooves.

“You haven’t been sleeping well lately,” I said.

She smiled. “Is it that obvious? The good thing is, the coffee here is excellent. I’ve been having some strange dreams. It’s something going around, nothing to worry about.”

I nodded. I could tell she wasn’t hiding anything there.

“What I’m trying to get around to saying…” she sighed. “Is I need your help. I think somepony is going to try and kill me.”

“I see why you’re having problems sleeping.”

She laughed again. “You’re not entirely wrong.”

“So why do you think somepony is after you? Death threats? A bullet through the window?”

“Nothing that direct. You’re new here, so I don’t expect you to know our history. We need to go back about twenty years. I was a lot younger and very overwhelmed by the job. There was a stray that came here by way of a shipwreck. He was called Crimson Macaw. We welcomed him because that’s what we do. We try and assume the best of everypony. He caused trouble, and eventually, he got drunk on moonshine he bought from one of the farmers and broke two of the caretakers.”

“That’s not good. They run everything around here.”

“Yes, and it was the final straw. I had him exiled from the resort. He lived on a small farm until the next ashfall. When the ghouls reanimated, he was denied entry back behind our walls. He died. The farm is still out there, but no one has tried reclaiming the land.”

“The ruined farm I saw,” I mumbled.

“Yes,” the Kahuna nodded. “I didn’t intend for it to be a death sentence. I shouldn’t have left him to die. I was young. Stupid. Angry at him for making my job harder.”

“But he’s definitely dead, right?” I asked. “I mean like, actually dead, not undead.”

“He was cremated and his ashes interred in Tomb Town. It’s outside the resort, on the other side from the farms. The ground is too swampy for graves, so we build mausoleums. The thing is, somepony has started leaving grave offerings for him.”

“For the pony that you left to die.”

“For the first time in twenty years,” she confirmed. “You can see why I’m worried.”

“Could be a ghost,” I said.

“Ghosts don’t leave hoofprints in the utilidor tunnels. Then there’s the attack from the old fort. Part of me thinks it’s all connected.”

“Why do you want me to look into this?” I asked. “The ponies here must know more than I do about whatever suspects you could name.”

“That’s true, but you’re also new here. Whoever’s behind this won’t know to be careful around you. You’re the perfect pony to investigate, especially since you’re smart and brave enough to take action on your own.”

I sighed. “You’re buttering me up, but it’s working. Any idea where I should start?”

“Try and find out who’s leaving grave offerings. That’s where I’d start.”

---

Tomb Town was an apt name for it. It was built out of sight of town, in what had been a swampy jungle. The island’s sandy soil and low elevation meant that the water table was right near the surface. A pirate couldn’t even bury treasure here without the chest popping up like a cork the next time it rained. So they’d built mausoleums, like the said. They built a neighborhood of little one-room stone buildings, maybe a hundred of them, complete with streets and alleyways.

A few old construction robots spray-painted a respectful black were kept under tarps. They must have been the architects. I took a look at them when I saw the pony-like shapes. They had the same designer as the caretakers in the resort, but with a heavier build and obvious tools for shaping stone and metal.

I left them alone and went looking for the tomb. The pony had died twenty years ago, and didn’t have family, so I gravitated towards the newer buildings. It took me a little while to find it, halfway down an alleyway and tiny, like a foal’s playhouse. I guess you didn’t need much room to hold ashes and a few bones. It was plain, but respectful, with the name Macaw chiseled into the polished stone.

Just like I’d been told, someone had left an offering. Flowers tied in a bouquet with a bright red ribbon. They were wilting a little, maybe two or three days old. I looked around. This was really out of the way. Whoever was leaving them might have been doing it for a lot longer than the Kahuna knew. It would be hard to spot the flowers unless you came here on purpose.

Did that make it less likely to be some kind of oblique death threat? If I wanted to tell somepony I was going to kill them, I’d do it practically, screaming and running at them with a knife. That way they wouldn’t have a chance to do something like hire a wildcard madpony who fell down from space.

I heard the clip-clop of hoofsteps on a stone path. I looked around for a hiding place, then jumped, forgetting I was missing several significant body parts, and only barely managed to catch the edge of a roof, pulling myself onto the sloped stone slab on top of the mausoleum across the way. I scrambled up onto it, cursing and trying to be silent.

I stayed low, trying to let the edge of the building hide me. The hoofsteps got closer, turning the corner. I waited and listened as they approached Macaw’s final resting place and stopped. I peeked over the edge. There was a young pony with a bundle of flowers. She replaced the wilted bouquet and whispered something I couldn’t make out.

“Gotcha,” I mumbled.

She stopped what she was doing and looked around. “Who’s there?!” she demanded. I hopped down when her back was turned, appearing behind her. At least, that’s what I intended to do. I landed wrong and slammed face, first into the ground.

“Ow.”

“Oh!” The young mare grabbed my hoof and helped me up. “Are you alright? You slipped and fell!”

“I think so,” I said, working my jaw and feeling for cracked teeth. “Sorry about that. I’m having some trouble getting around.” I spread what was left of my wingspan to demonstrate.

“You must be that new pony in town,” she said. She was just barely old enough to not be called a filly. “Chamomile, right?”

“I didn’t think I was that famous,” I said.

“I heard you went out to help ponies on one of the farms when they were in trouble,” she said. “That’s very brave of you. The ponies at the resort usually don’t care enough.”

I nodded to the grave. “Did you know them?”

She sighed. “I like to talk walks through here. The raiders don’t bother this place because they’re superstitious. They’re kind of foalish about it. They’ll go on about all the ponies they’ve killed but they won’t go near a graveyard.”

“Maybe they’re worried somepony will remember them,” I joked.

The young mare tittered. “Perhaps so. A few weeks ago I found this little tomb. I think it’s the only one ponies never leave offerings at, so I decided to do it. Everypony deserves to be remembered.”

“That’s nice of you,” I said. The lie hung in the air between us. I could smell it on her. She was hiding something.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can get back to your walk,” I said. I took a few steps. “Oh, I didn’t get your name.”

“Bird of Paradise,” she said. “It’s a beautiful flower. I grow some in my garden.” She turned so I could see her cutie mark.

I smiled. “Flower buddies!” I showed her my mark. “Have a great day, Birdy.”

“You too,” she said.

She didn’t seem like an assassin. So what was she lying about?

---

“Bird of Paradise,” the Kahuna mumbled, thinking. “She’s too young to even remember Macaw. She always seemed like a decent pony. She and her mother live in one of the bungalows on the west side of the resort. She sells fresh flowers. The caretakers don’t like us taking them from the planned flower beds, but she built the one around her bungalow herself and they ignore it.”

“They let ponies build their own little farms inside the walls?” I asked.

“Not usually,” the Kahuna said. “It’s a blind spot. There was only one caretaker that did groundskeeping in that area, and it’s one of the ones Macaw destroyed. It made it a hassle to keep the bungalows looking neat, since anypony that wants to live in them has to clean ash away themselves a few times a year.”

“But you do get privacy,” I mumbled.

“I can’t officially send anypony out to look around on such thin evidence,” the Kahuna said. She held up a hoof to stop me, not that I was even getting started. I already knew what she meant and where this was going. “But if somepony looked around and brought me back some evidence of wrongdoing, they’d be pardoned for a little breaking and entering.”

“And what if there is no evidence?” I asked.

“Then I’d be careful not to get found out,” she said plainly. “I don’t like violating anypony’s trust.”

“Right,” I agreed. “So which bungalow do I stay away from so I’m not violating anypony’s trust?”

“I wouldn’t go to number 49, the one with a flower bed around the back, near the giant crystal.”

“There’s a giant crystal?”

The Kahuna shrugged. “It was part of this big park overhaul the owners were doing towards the end. They flew in these huge crystals from the Empire and put them around the island. I don’t think any of it still works. I’ll try to find you a brochure later.”

---

The bungalows were a little bit away from the main hotel buildings of the resort, most of them with a clear path right down to the beach. An old rope fence surrounded the area, discouraging wandering ponies. I got the impression that back when the park was open, these were where ponies with real money stayed.

Each one was a small house, beautifully decorated and designed to evoke… something. Not any real place or time, but the kind of generic island feeling that a pony might get when they closed their eyes and thought about an island vacation. It was the way tropical punch didn’t really taste like any particular fruit.

“Number 49,” I repeated to myself, walking down the row of small homes. I spotted the crystal first. It looked like a quartz prism with a slightly green hue. It was definitely magical. Even from a hundred paces away, I could feel it radiating against the thaumoframe embedded in my body. It wasn’t dangerous, just constant pressure, like standing close enough to an oven to feel some of the heat and the direction it was coming from.

When I got to number 49, it stood out. The garden around it made the other bungalows look bare with only beach grass and palm trees around them. There were a huge variety of flowers in the beds, including birds of paradise, hibiscus, and mountain flowers. Then I spotted something else among them. Nightshade. Foxglove. Deathbell. They looked as harmless as any other flower. They also made deadly poisons.

I stepped back and frowned. It didn’t mean it was sinister. She might not know. She might also know perfectly well and just liked how they looked.

I didn’t like how some of the plants looked recently harvested.

“Not a great start,” I mumbled. I hated not knowing what I was doing. What if she was an innocent pony? I’d been caught up in enough weird coincidences that I could easily see it happening to somepony else. The Kahuna didn’t even have hard proof her life was in danger, just a gut feeling.

I couldn’t look inside. All the windows were covered up. I had to admit that I was starting to feel anxious. I wasn’t supposed to be here and things felt weirdly tilted from that magical field coming off the crystal.

The only thing to do was shake it off and get the job done. I found a back door to the bungalow. It was locked the same way all the guest rooms were locked, with a little panel that read the signal from the fancy bracelets we all wore to mark us as season pass holders. The Kahuna had mentioned something off-the-cuff to me as I was leaving. Just a little detail. I sat down in front of the panel and carefully popped the front off along a hidden seam. Inside was a keypad. It was designed for emergency entry.

And because it was for emergencies, the code wasn’t complicated. They didn’t want staff getting panicked and forgetting the combination if there was something really wrong, after all, and guests weren’t supposed to know the panels even existed. I tapped the 1 key four times and a little light blinked from red to green.

I tried to open the door silently, which naturally made the thing creak loudly. I stepped inside and looked around. It looked like somepony’s kitchen. I wasn’t sure why anypony needed a kitchen when there were robots that did all the cooking a short walk away.

Something was bubbling on the stove. My keen investigative instincts demanded I go over and look. Inside, at a low simmer, a bunch of purple flower petals danced in dark liquid that smelled exactly the way you expect a cartoon poison to smell. I gagged and put the top back on the pot a little too quickly, making a soft clang.

“Is someone there?” somepony called out from the other room.

Why was I so bad at sneaking around? Is it because I was too big and clumsy? Yes. That was the main reason. The kitchen didn’t offer many places to hide. I could sense somepony coming. I ran for the dining table, as quietly as possible, and scooted under it, hoping the long tablecloth would be enough to hide me from sight.

“Hello? Who’s there?” the pony called out again as they walked into the kitchen cautiously. They stepped over to the back door and closed it. I could see from the color of their hooves that it wasn’t Bird of Paradise. It had to be her mother.

She stood there for a moment, and I could imagine her looking around the kitchen, trying to spot anything out of place.

“Mind’s playing tricks on me,” she muttered, starting back in the other direction. I was holding my breath. I waited for the sound of her hoofsteps to vanish and sighed in relief.

A knife slammed through the table and came close enough to my head to cut the side of my face.

“Ha! Found you!” she yelled in triumph. The knife caught in the wood, giving me time to scramble out into the open with a very cool roll to the side. The mare got the knife free and laughed when she saw the cut on my face. “It’s already too late. The poison on my blade will paralyze you, and then I can take my time finding out how much you know!”

“Do you try and kill everypony you meet, or am I just special?” I asked.

“It’s self-defense,” she said coyly. “You broke into my house, didn’t you?”

“You know what, fair enough,” I said. I reached back onto the stove and grabbed the simmering pot, splashing the contents in a wide arc. She raised her hoof to cover her face, and the boiling poison hit her leg and side. She shrieked in pain and collapsed, her skin turning red under her thinning coat. After a few more seconds, she went still.

I got closer and poked her. She was still breathing, but seemed otherwise totally paralyzed. Meanwhile, I felt a faint numbness in my face, but that was it.

“Okay, I’m still immune to poison,” I said. “Good to know. You stay here while I have a look around. Sorry about all this.”

I brushed myself off, looked for something to tie up the mare with, then took a look around the place while she was napping. Since she’d come at me with a poison knife I was feeling pretty certain there’d be something to find. I put myself in her hooves, and her daughter’s hooves. If this was really about Macaw, it was a grudge that had lasted decades just simmering below the surface.

If I was holding a grudge like that, where would I hide the evidence? Maybe there was some hidden panel or secret compartment or--

No, wait. She’d been making poison in her kitchen. She’d come at me with a knife. This wasn’t a mare who hid things. I went for the first place I’d put something important if I was her and opened up her jewelry box. Inside was a worn piece of paper, folded and refolded many times over the years. The paper was yellowed, the edges ragged.

“My dearest Gleamblossom,

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t bear to wait until the next time you were recovered enough to visit, so I begged one of the farmers to bring this into town and deliver it. Of everything else the Kahuna did, this is the cruelest.

I don’t think anypony else knows she’s ours. It’s better to keep it that way until I can clear my name and get back into the resort. What I did was hardly a crime. I broke a machine. A machine! And they exiled me. I’ll quit drinking like I promised, find a way to make it right, and I’ll be by your side.

There’s ashfall coming soon. I don’t know when. I haven’t been out here long enough to predict it. She’ll have to let me in until it passes, and then I’ll be able to meet our little Bird of Paradise myself. The other farmers told me to board up my windows and door, but what’s the point? I don’t have anything of worth and this farm can rot for all I care.

I’ll be with you soon. I promise

Macaw”

“She’s his daughter,” I whispered. “Shoot. I should have seen that coming.” I tucked the letter away to show the Kahuna later. I had a suspect, a motive, and a crazy mare with a knife. The only thing I didn’t have was their plan.

I started pacing and thinking out loud.

“Bird of Paradise isn’t here, but somepony snuck into the tunnels. The robots stop anypony who tries to go through unless they have a security pass… unless she used another tunnel entrance outside the resort. Those things go everywhere under the island.”

I stopped and looked down at Gleamblossom. She could move her eyes but not much else.

“Look, I’m sorry about the burns. And about breaking in. I’m willing to call it even for the knife thing if you help me out here. What’s your daughter planning?”

She looked up at me silently, because she was paralyzed.

“Yeah I guess you aren’t up for talking,” I sighed. “Dang. You know I don’t want to hurt anypony, right? I’m just trying to save lives.” I sat down in front of her. “But why would she use the tunnel if she wasn’t sneaking out?”

It hit me like a brick to the back of the head.

“To sneak somepony else in,” I realized. “She knew the raiders were superstitious. She’s talked to them!”

I looked down at Gleamblossom.

“Uh… don’t go anywhere.”

I bolted out the door and ran for the utilidor entrance.

---

I got there just in time.

No, that’s a lie. I got there and worried and waited and sat there for an hour trying to decide if I was wrong and something else was happening or if I needed to go and get more ponies, or do something clever, or… What I’m getting at is that I had too much time to think and no idea when it would be interrupted. I half-expected ponies to sneak up silently in the shadows and attack before I was ready.

If it sounds like I was unusually jumpy, I was. The big crystal near Gleamblossom’s bungalow had given me a headache and put me on edge like I’d had way too many cups of coffee. It even, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, made my scales itch. That’s not a sentence many ponies can really sympathize with, but it is not a great sensation.

I sat there with the GLUU Gun and waited, and waited, and occasionally gnawed at my own hoof like an animal trying to make it stop itching. And then I heard it.

Any worries I had about the raiders being quiet and sneaky got thrown right out the window because they were literally singing a song while they marched.

“Hold on, hold on!” one of them yelled, stopping the singing. “What was the last part of that line?”

“We’re really bad eggs,” supplied a second voice.

“That seems unfair. I’m not a bad pony.”

“What about the maraudin’ and ravagin’ and arson?”

“I was forced into it as a matter of circumstance!”

“You’re all idiots,” said a voice I recognized. Bird of Paradise. “Cute idiots, though. Do this job for me and you’ll get to live like kings. Just lie in the sun and get all the rum and food you want.”

They came around the bend. There were more of them than I expected, eight of them not counting the young mare who was, now, decked out in intimidating-looking black barding. The raiders had a variety of weapons, most of them with cobbled-together guns, but one had a nasty-looking harpoon.

“Heya,” I said.

They looked at me, saw I was holding what looked like a weapon, and slowed down cautiously.

“You’re that new girl,” Bird of Paradise said. “Look, you don’t have ties to these ponies. Walk away and you can come back when it’s all over. No strings attached.”

“You know, that’s actually a reasonable offer,” I admitted. “And if you weren’t about to go murder a bunch of ponies and burn the place to the ground-- don’t try and correct me, I heard those lyrics! If you weren’t a bunch of ne’er-do-well nags and bad eggs, I still wouldn’t say yes, but buck, you’re all wearing scrap armor and you have skulls painted on your faces!”

“Is the skull too much?” one of the raiders asked in a low, sad tone.

“It looks great, don’t let her bully you,” Bird of Paradise assured him. “Anyway, somepony shoot her. We’ve got things to do.”

Oh right. They had guns. I raised my hoof defensively, a shot rang out and… it bounced. Not off me, but off of a shimmering hexagon floating next to my hoof like a transparent shield. I instantly recognized it from the lecture I’d heard in a memory orb on making magical shields.

“Did I do that?” I asked. The glow coming from between my thaumoframe scales sure made it seem that way. “Neat!”

I had the initiative while they tried to process what they’d just seen. I fired two globs of glue, hitting one of the raiders in the face and another one in the chest. They both fell over and stayed where they fell, stuck to the ground by the hardening epoxy.

“That worked better than I expected,” I said. Two more shots and I glued a stallion’s front hooves to the ground. Three more ran at me, the one with the harpoon leading the charge. The last two fired, but didn’t hit anything with their friends in the way.

I held the shield up to block the harpoon, feeling smug right until the magic flickered and failed. The harpoon hit my hoof, glanced off the metal scales, and bit into my shoulder, opening a long cut. Why didn’t anything ever work when I needed it? I barely felt it but it was the principle of the thing. It was considered rude in my culture to stab somepony.

I slammed my forehead into the face of the pony next to me. He recoiled, his snout shattered. It only took a second to dispatch the next pony. I flicked my right hoof and… nothing happened because I didn’t have any kind of hidden blade in it. I ended up just lightly pressing my hoof against his chest.

He was smarter and faster than most of the other raiders I’d met. He grabbed the prosthetic and twisted, breaking one of the straps. I stumbled forward into him and the harpoon pony got his chance to poke me in the side. He didn’t get far and just gave me the tip.

“You little bucking--” I smacked the pony that had grabbed the prosthetic with my wing, hard enough to knock him back a step. That got me away from the harpoon before he could come at me again. The ponies with guns in back got the smart idea to try shooting again, spraying all three of us with automatic fire.

I guess they didn’t like their friend that much.

The bullets didn’t penetrate far into me, but they ripped the two raiders apart. I felt like bees had stung me in a ragged line across my chest and side, the low-caliber rounds leaving stinging, bleeding welts

The last two raiders looked at Bird of Paradise, each other, nodded in silent agreement, and turned and ran, leaving her alone.

“Cowards!” Bird yelled at them. “She’s just one mare! She doesn’t even have a real gun! She’s wounded!”

“I didn’t hear no bell,” I said. “I don’t think we’re through yet.”

She scoffed and pulled a throwing knife from a hidden sheath. Before she could toss it, I fired a ball of glue at her hoof. Bird of Paradise swore like a sailor and tried to free herself. I fired another shot at her face, effectively blindfolding and muzzling her.

“Now that’s what I call a sticky situation,” I said. “Eh? Eh?” I looked around. Nopony seemed to appreciate it. “We’ll go talk to the Kahuna and work this out like actual grown-ups.”

A solid minute and a half later I realized ponies liked air and broke the glue around her muzzle so she could breathe. She wasn’t even grateful about it.

Comments

[Thought Prism]

LOL those poor souls had no clue who they were messing with.

[Reese]

"I guess you’ve got a point. I’ll talk to here."
"I guess you’ve got a point. I’ll talk to her."?

"So they’d built mausoleums, like the said"
"So they’d built mausoleums, like she said"?

"slammed face, first into the ground"
"slammed face first into the ground"?

"I like to talk walks through here"
"I like to take walks through here"?

Thanks for writing! :D

[FridayPie]

“Mind’s playing tricks on me,” she muttered, starting back in the other direction. I was holding my breath. I waited for the sound of her hoofsteps to vanish and sighed in relief.

Hello, another Bethesda NPC.