Fallout Equestria: Taking Life By The Horns

by Pokonic

You Can't Walk Five Feet Out There Without Tripping On One.

I looked at the little manticore sitting besides the seemingly cationic mare, and I felt myself beginning to panic. Which was entirely reasonable, considering it was a creature that had all the nasty bits of a large cat with the nastier parts of a giant scorpion, but what was not reasonable was the fact that Blueberry was practically curled up against the thing, as if it was a pillow. She was breathing slowly, and she didn't look pained, but otherwise she was utterly dead to the world.

I turned my head and took a step back when the little cat monster nimbly got up and half-glided to the ground after a little jump, using a large green bag as a springboard.

After giving me a glare in seeming distaste and licking a paw, it began to walk near me. Quickly, but without hesitation, something I did not expect from a feral beast, or most things in the wasteland, for that matter.

I looked at the little cat beast, and could only wonder if, by some off chance, it was not actually out to kill me.

It was just a few feet away from me then, and stopped moving once it found a spot mostly clear

Idiotically, I went on a knee and offered a hand to it.

The little chimera thing yawned at me boredly, but to my complete surprise it raised on of it's own little paws and began to give me the best impression of a handshake it could give without thumbs. I almost expected it to begin saying I was a dumb minotaur, believing that he could go ahead and try to pretend that he lived in harmony with nature and that diplomacy was the answer to everything.

I stared expectantly at the little manticore, and it met my sight with something akin to loathing, which I quickly understood to be its default expression.

"You’re an idiot, Ever Watchful." said the manticore, in a feminine voice made for mocking, light and cheery and utterly antagonistic.

My eyes widened and something foul began to stir in my guts.

The mini-manticore, however, snatched its paw away from my palm as if it was hot, and promptly licked it roughly. After doing so, it promptly dashed off to the direction of the aquarium, presumably in the pursuit of fish.

I just looked at my hand.

There was a little purple swirly thing that went from the base of my thumb to my wrist that I was certain wasn't there before. It wasn't a solid purple line, actually, so much as three or four off-grey lines that waved around eachother, with the parts they connected being purple.

I blinked at it. It didn't move, like skin was supposed to, so that was a good sign as ever. Actually, it resembled a pen-mark more than anything else, and it reminded me slightly of the purple stuff in the water producing generator in the aquarium. I didn't remember touching any of it, but it was leaking from a few spots and I was utterly sure I would have noticed it if it stained, considering that my leg's were all the same color they were supposed to be.

I pinched the spot with my left hand after putting down my hammer, and the skin still felt the same. Odd.

I turned around to the dreadful building behind me, and it then hit me that I just saw a fucking talking manticore.

I also realized that Blueberry actualy, for all intents a purposes, rised from the dead with the help of something that was almost certainly evil, and said object was in a little pocket on my right hip.

I also realized that Blueberry was still asleep, and that her chin was balanced on the blue memory orb that held the memories of the crystal pony I was in.

I also realized I just assisted a giant pony eating fish thing possibly get access to a possible major waterway.

I also realized that, as far as I knew it, there was little to no option's to escape from the situation I was in, considering that Tauronto was a day or two away and if I went back home, I would be killed unceremoniously and left to rot.

I also realized that the green bag the talking manticore used to jump off the cart fell on the ground.

Sighing, I walked up to cart and poked Blueberry in the forehead, right above the horn. She didn't react at all, which hardly surprised me and all. Memory orbs are supposed to last for a while, and she probably started looking through the one we got from the highway-pony a few minutes ago or so.

I then went over to the green bag, which, to my displeasure, had spilled most of its contents thanks to the talking manticore, if that's what it was. I winced when I saw the varying mechanical tools sprawled on the ground, some stained lightly with a rusty-red covering of what was almost certainly not rust. I gave a half-hearted glare at the blue butterball, and knew that, if I wanted to, I could probably solve most of my immediate problems with her with a simple overhead swing with the hunk of rebar laying a few feet away. However, I spotted another object near my feet that I had somehow missed, and the sight of it snapped me out of that morbid train of thinking; it was a black box of sorts, nearly as long as my forearm and just as wide.

I picked it up, and after learning that it was not as heavy as it looked, laid it on the cart and simply lifted off the top carefully after a brief moment of hesitation. What was inside was interesting, even compared to the other events that had happened within the last few hours.

The first thing I took notice of was a little pale folder, small yet thick, bound with a rubber band and Blueberry's name embossing it in silver writing. There was a joke in that, one which was hardly funny when I took notice of the two other objects snugly placed in the black-furred cases interior.

They were memory orbs, but odd ones compared to the plain-looking one that was currently being used by Blueberry. Both were colored grey, but while one had a large red dot on one of its sides, the other had a large white one.

I scratched my head, shrugged, and carefully wiggled the band off it. With little flourish, I opened it up, not sure what to expect.

I quickly realized, to my mild displeasure, it was a makeshift diary. Or, in Blueberry's case, a transcript detailing her utter insanity. I flipped a thumb through the entire novel-sized stack, and discovered that nearly every single page was scratched out furiously, seemingly with whatever substance she could get her hooves on. The only page that had anything legible, in fact, was the last one. Barely, anyway. It seemed that Steel Rangers did not truly grasp writing skills.

Well, I think this is mine. I woke up with it in my bag, and it was with the rest of my stuff, so it's mine. Anyway, yeah,

This is you writing this, Blueberry. No, really. This is your stuff. I am sure of it. Mine, anyway. If somepony else is reading this, go ahead and take it before I wake up or my corpse starts to smell. Unless you killed me, and at that I hope I made your life misrable and stuff.

So, if you are Blueberry, keep reading this. There are two memory orbs in the case you found this in, hopefully you still know what those are. You had them made a long time ago, nice pony in Manehatten made them for you for a queens ransome in spark batteries. The one with the red dot has your worst one you could think of. It's bad, but you must do it. However, after that, go into the one with the yellow orb. That's the happiest one you could remember. I repeat, you need to do this. You need to.

Now, you probably have seen your amu necklace. Only wear it when you need to. A very nice stallion once told you that, when you wear the necklace, it makes you forget things faster. You both once tested it and he proved it true with a video recorder, but then you forgot it was a bad thing a day afterword. He found this and told you what you forgot, and you really need to be on top of this. Mom had no idea what she was doing, you can't blame her for that, she was a earth pony and had no idea what would happen. But remember, only put it on when your life is in extreme mortal danger and only then.

Anyway, you need to think about where you need to go to be safe. Going home is out of the question after running away when Red Eye attacked the base, and you cannot go into Fillydelphia out of dignity. You can't go to another Steel Ranger group anyway, they think you are dead, hopefully. Hoofington is out of the question, less about the fact that the Elder there doesn't like your mother and more because of well, all I can all you can remember is something about a Caesar and a Brutus. I think both of them hate you, and you might have had sex with one of them. Anyway, don't go up there for whatever reason.

Also, if your wondering how old you are, stop. Unless something horrible has happened that has made you lose this paper, your twenty five, give or take a few months. However, I don't think you look much different than seven years ago, which is the time you left the rest of the Rangers. It might have something to do with that necklace you have. You can't break it, you have tried already. You actually tried to get a dragon to do it once. The dragon died.

You need it, anyway, so don't lose it. It might be the reason your in the mess your in, but it's the only reason you are alive.

I made a plan a few days before writing this, and hopefully you still remember it. It's pretty simple, as far as plans go, but it should help you a lot.

1. Go to Tauronto. Very simple. Just follow the main path.

2. There are still Rangers up there. There is one named Cherry; you need to talk to her. She can help.

3. If not, go and talk to a member of the Purebreds. You can pass the membership test and get there help.

4. If you can't do that right, go to Ghoul Town and try and talk to the leader of the Reavers. Sounds simple, but it's not. He's one thousand and eighty feet in the air and the tower he is in is irradiated and full of ghouls that probably would not like you if you couldn't get up there correctly.

5. Keep doing steps 2-4 until one works.

6. Wonderful! Now you just need to go to the Crystal Empire! Hopefully you still remember what that is.

7. If you don't, it's a massive, balefire-blasted jagged hell full of ghouls and other nasty things. The whole place is made out of light-green crystals, and while the city somehow protected itself from the bomb that was supposed to hit it, apparently they adsorbed all the necromantic energy in the bombs and amplified it or something. Anyway, you’re going to need help to get in. It's also in a permanent nuclear winter and stuff, so bring help that can resist the cold and irradiation.

8. Once you do get in, you need to search for the royal tower. It's really big, so you don't need help there.

9. Inside the tower, according myth, there is a secret library filled to the brim with information about magical artifacts. You are sure that, in the old days, the ponies who ruled banned most of those books and shoved them away from prying eyes, but there is a secret personal collection hidden in the tower by the ruler of the Empire for safekeeping.

10. Anyway, you need to go in there and learn about the necklace you have and how to destroy it. More importantly, you need to learn how to regain your memories. You might want to take some of the nicer looking books, too, in case they look valuable. The Purebreds will probably make you there leader if you can pull of some decent magic.

I wasn't sure what I was disturbed more by, Blueberry having a plan to take me to an irradiated deathtrap or her switching between "I" and "me". I was also sure one was supposed to use "their" when talking about ownership and belongings as apposed to "there". But I distress.

I carefully slid the paper back into the folder and looked at the orbs. I could go further into her privacy and invade in what was certainly her most prized memories, and it was probably wrong for me to look at her stuff.

However, she was out cold on cart, and it wasn’t like there was anything that would interrupt me if I was in it.

Then again, that’s what I thought when I put on the Recollector the last time.

I looked at the little squiggly mark on my palm, and wondered if it really was a sign of…something. Now that I looked at it a bit more, it could have passed for something sign-ish. Like a snake or something like a snake.

Abstant-mindedly, I took out the tiara-necklace that was probably a horrible artifact of unholy power and gently plopped it in the bag where the food was kept, which was pretty much effectively mine. While my mind was on food, I took out one of the food bars in it and pretty much wolfed it down without bothering to taste it, not that there was much to taste.

After a few moments of brushing out the kinks in my hair and body and loading the very few spoils from the aquarium in my unofficial side of the cart, and after a few moments of resistance, slid down on the ground, my back facing the concrete wall the cart was hidden behind.

I think I deserved a time out, after all.

To my increasing concern, however, Blueberry was still not moving. I wondered how long I was out from the orb, and I then realized I was probably out for more than a few hours, at the least.

I sighed, shifted my weight, and looked over at the goliath structure that loomed over its own little petty domain. No sign of the freakish talking cat, or the freakish ponies back in the creepy little village. Nothing to do.

I looked at the black box, sighed, and got up. It wasn’t so much of if I was going to use one of these things but which one. Both would probably take time, and either would be important to help understand Blueberry. One was supposedly the worst thing that has happened to her, while the other was the best thing. If I chose the best one, it would probably be sweet and gentle, while the other one would probably be helpful in the, for a lack of a better term, healing process.

I made my decision. I picked up the crown-like object to my side, and simply put it on my head. Finally, after lying back on the wall, I carefully placed the memory orb with the red dot in it on it and closed my eyes.

oooOOOooo

I felt sore, and more importantly, small and tired. Presumably, so did the three other ponies in the narrow room I was in, at least in the tired front. My entire body was clothed only in rags, but I felt the comforting weight of a heavy object around me neck, cool and almost soothing. There was a dull roar coming beyond a grate at the end of the room, but it was hardly important. All that mattered was basking in the feeling the thing on my neck was giving me.

I heard a sob coming from a pathetically tiny pony, little bigger than a foal, wailing as it clinged to what was probably his parent. The other pony in the room, a stoutly built ocher stallion nearly as wide as he was tall, snorted at the sight.

“Stop whining, brat. Your number six. Let a dead pony die without having the last thing he hears being a little pussy whining for his mother.”

The light yellow stallion who was consolidating the little pony glared harshly at the rude brute. “This foal’s mother was the first one out on the other side, you unfeeling scum of the earth.”

I felt something warm come over me, like a refreshing wave of smothering love emanating from the heavy object around my neck. I couldn’t help but sigh in shear satisfaction.

I barely noticed that the two stallions stopped there bickering and were looking at me oddly.

I hardly cared, however, considering I knew that the most important thing in the room at the moment was not them, or the little pony in the lap of the smaller one, but rather me. I couldn’t hold back a little giggle. I think the larger one swore.

“Oh, sweet goddesses, is she high?” he said, almost impressed. The smaller buck snorted.

“Naw, that’s just Blueberry Cream. You know, the only one in this thing who has made it through five of these already and fought exactly once?”

The wide stallion looked at me, eyes wide, and let out a low whistle. “Damn, and here I thought I was the big guy ‘round here with two of these things under my belt.” He grunted slightly. “I ’xpected some pony taller, though. And, err, sweet cheeks, not to be rude, but while you aren’t exactly hard on the eyes, the whole ‘Dash addicted hobo ’ thing isn’t a good look for ya.”

The smaller stallion groaned, and the little colt squirmed into his chest and continued to cover it in tears. “For the love of the gods, Wood Chipper, just shut up for once in your miserable life. We are slaves, for all that is…you’re the one talking about death, and I am the one who’s up next. I just want to help this lit-“

The gate at the other end of the room opened, and the roar grew louder. Sighing deeply, he half-heartedly pushed off the little blue colt off him and began to wander into the direction of the noise.

“Save a seat for me, Temper.” Wood Chipper said, almost solemnly.

“But dear brother, where we are going, there are no seats, only cells.” said Temper laconically.

At that, both of the stallions began to chuckle bitterly, and after a few moments the smaller stallion walked out to whatever was beyond the gate. It shut with a loud, rusty clink-clank.

The room was comparatively silent for a few moments, before the older stallion sniffed slightly. “Like a little brother, that one.”

He looked at the little foal, and then at me. “Blueberry, huh? You got family here?”

I said nothing, and just stood there, basking in the sensation of being utterly happy with the situation at hand. He just stared at me for a few moments before groaning and letting his head hang low.

“Don’t talk much, do you? You one of those sociopaths that come up here every so often?”

I turned my head to him, and I smiled softly.

He swore, and the little colt next to him was nearly crushed in his mad dash to the farthest end of the chamber. He did a valiant effort no to swear in front of the little foal, but eventually failed.

“Shit shit shit shit shit what the hell is the matter with you!” he screamed as he backed up against the wall, his voice seemingly up a few octaves.

I paid no attention to the burly pony and merely looked at the colt, who was now a bit closer to me.

“What’s your name, little pony?” I said sweetly.

The blue pony just stared at me in fright, but eventually choked out “Cr-cropper, mame.”

I blinked, and the little colt shirked back. “Oh. That’s a nice name. You probably want to live now, don-“

I paused, because I heard somepony scream.

"Blueberry Cream."

The big stallion moved up from his spot and placed a hoof between me and Cropper.

“There are three ponies out there, bitch, and my little brother just died. Fuck up the bitch that did it, will yeah?”

I looked into his eyes, and saw, among other things, a stallion that trusted me to, at the very least, kill things, if nothing else. I nodded, and smiled.

The gate opened behind me, and there was another roar of chorus of approval. I began to move in the direction of the light and noise.

The last thing I heard when I went outside was “Lunaspeed, you crazy little sociopath you.”

---

Outside the room was a different story. The floor was a mish-mash of several shades of red and purple, and there was several corpses scattered around it. Several barrels were hanging from the ceiling, and at least a few held some noxious substances, considering the awful smell that filled the room.

Even more notable was the massive crowed of ponies gathered around it. There had to be at least a hundred, nearly scrabbling around themselves in order to get better views of the room I was in.

In fact, I nearly missed the only other pony in the room, as close to my entrance she was. A mare, by the looks of her, a dark dusky blue color with rich dark brown hair, most of her natural beauty ruined by dozens of whip-scars and fresh cuts alike. She was standing low to the ground, all but leaning on the cooling corpse of the yellow stallion from before. Shakily, she raised her head to look at me.

Somepony, or something, who was very loud and obviously enjoyed it,began speaking.

“Out of the Black Gate, the only slave in this room with a chance of freedom tonight, here comes the cruel and terrible Blueberrrryyyyy C-creeeeeaaam!”

There was loud cheering, accompanied by the occasional questioning murmur. But that was hardly important, as the other pony in the room was attempting a pitiful charge that I easily side-stepped.

She dropped the knife from her mouth when she reached the other side of the arena, and began to break down crying. The crowd began to jeer and boo, but that quickly stopped when I slowly trotted up to her, past a seething pool of sludge.

I stopped for a moment; I slowly put some weight on a raised patch of ground. To my pleasure, a barrel from above dropped its load, dropping a single plain knife.

Picking it up with my magic, I began to make my way thought the arena, not bothering to look at the audience. In fact, I was actualy humming a little tuneless tune that was entirely out of place with the currant situation, and only stopped when I got to the mare in the corner.

She didn’t flinch when I put a hoof on her shoulder, and just looked at me fearfully when I cupped a hoof under her chin to force her to turn her head. Her nose was broken and one of her eyes seemed to be glazed over with a thin layer of cataracts, but otherwise her head was fine. She simply, in lieu of trying to get away, attempted to plead for her life with a mouth full of broken teeth and her own lifeblood.

I smiled understandingly.

I then lifted her head further up against the wall. She would have screamed, if it was not for the hoof on her jaw stopping her from doing anything.

For a few moments, I pondered what to do. A little burst of pleasure started to form on the tip of my horn, and I smiled when I knew what could be done.

She let out a muffled scream when my horn pierced her trachea, understandably, and she was reduced to wheezing painfully when I simply pulled it out. While most of my sight was filled with a spurt of blood, saying nothing about the damp mess that was now my forehead.

I cried out with joy when waves of pure pleasure began to ripple out from the object on my neck, almost as a reward of sorts.

“Well, folks, with the way she’s acting after impaling Sassafras, I think she’s enjoying this!” said the voice energetically.

In response, the crowd exploded in a wave of pure energy, rippling with bloodthirsty ponies that just got one of the most entertaining deaths of the evening.

I simply stood there, above the mare. Her name was Sassafras, apparently. Hardly matters now.

“This next pony used to be one of our betters, but after stealing from the medical stations he found himself here with the rest of our lesser's! Here comes Stoneback!”

The grey-brown stallion that emerged from the other gate was large and well built, but was giving me a weary eye. Considering most of my head was now stained red and I might have been smiling, it was understandable.

He looked over the arena, seemingly familiar with it. Seeing that I was merely trotting in his direction and not making a mad dash for anything, he took in a deep breath and made his way to an area that was mostly untouched. After a quick dash over a pressure plate, he nearly smiled when he found himself was a large iron club.

And he promptly stopped when he couldn’t pick it up in his teeth. His pupils dilated when it became engulfed in red magic.

When I pulled the club over into one of the pools of bubbling slime, the stallion came with. I didn't know why he didn't let go, but I didn't really care.

There were a few muttering from the crowd about how something like this wasn't really fair, but even they cheered when he panicked at landing in the slime. I wasn't too far away from him, but I almost didn't hear his screams over the sound of the crowds roars of approval.

It took a few moments for him to stop moving, though, and I didn't feel anything. No little burst of happiness, not the slightest tingle of pleasure, nothing. I sighed, and simply turned to the so called Red Gate, which was already opening to let out the last pony behind it.

“Well, every pony, we have saved the best for last! A mare straight out of the Stables, she’s lived through three bouts so far and is one hell of a fighter. The terror of 39, I give yoouuuu Snowflake Special!"

The unicorn that came out of the gate was a shocker. For one thing, she was odd looking, tall and gangly. Her long hair was striped with red, green, and purple, and her coat was a shockingly pure white color. Furthermore, her eyes were mix-matched, with one being dark purple while the other was a terrible blue.

She looked at me, and sneered.

“Another raider. Hmmpf!” she said as she flipped her hair back, to the seeming adoration of most of the crowd’s stallions and a surprising amount of mares.

I quickly discovered that, even if I was not forced to do so, I would have killed her on principle.

A little warm feeling bubbled up in my chest at that thought, and I all but moaned.

I could have sworn the crowd quieted down a bit, and my opponent gave me a concerned look.

Soon, I realized I was actually moaning. Enthusiastically. And that I had a hoof stuck in the chest cavity of a dead mare. Out of pure spite, I took it out and licked it.

“Goddess da-ym!” said a surprised stallion in one of the upper rows of seating. Many of the spectators soon echoed his words, albeit less tastefully.

My seeming opponent just looked at me, mouth slightly wide and with a quivering upper lip.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” she said in a panicked, unladylike manner as she dashed off to my right around a cooling corpse.

I turned around and simply began trotting along towards her, nearly tracing her steps.

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Normal ponies don’t get off at killing other ponies!”

I smiled, and felt something wonderful build up around my horn.

“I like other ponies, miss Snowflake. They are pretty. You’re actualy rather pretty yourself.”

She stopped and looked at me in mild surprise, actualy blushing slightly. Quite a few sections of the crowd began mumbling.

I smiled, in the sense that my mouth was wide open and all my teeth were showing.

“I just like breaking pretty things, that’s all.”

I first thought some pony dropped a pin, considering how seemingly quiet it was, but then I realized that the pony who was announcing the fight must have dropped her microphone.

Her look of muffled pride was replaced with one of utter horror as she dashed for the knife near Sassafras’s cooling corpse and quickly met me someways near the acid pit, staring at me fearfully as she raised the little blade above her in a downword gesture with strange, chromatic magic.

"St-tay back! I-I am warning you!"

I said nothing, but she all but screamed when her magical field simply vanished into thin air, and when my own red magic caught the dropped knife before it even hit the ground. A wave of confusion and surprise echoed on the faces of the spectators.

Taking my chances, I simply raised the knife to her face and smiled.

"I have to wonder, miss Snowflake, what's your special talent?"

She was between a acid pool and a knife, and after choking down a nasty comment that could have lost her a limb she slowly stuttered out her response.

"B-being special."

I raised a eyebrow. "Really, now, how do you do that?"

She snorted, some source of pride welling up from deep inside her.

"Look at me, mare. You said it yourself, I am special. My magic, my eyes, my hair, everything. When I get out of here, I am going to change the wasteland just by being out there."

I looked at the polychromatic pony before me, battered, beaten, scared for her life, and felt a small twing of pity.

"That's...really sad if you really think that."

She blinked. I leaned forward, making my move.

"You know, I don't want to kill you." I said, letting the knife do little acrobatic tricks in the air. A happy little thumping sensation began to fill my head, like the opposite of a headache.

Snowflake took a tiny step back, and bit down a yelp when her hoof felt the bite of acid.

I boredly nicked the mare across the nose with the knife, and a little wave of red shocked my nerves in a very nice way.

"I could play games with you right now, you know. Who knows what these freaks on the other side of these walls like. Cut you up a little, cut your tendons and stick my tongue in the holes I make, stuff that neither you or the ponies watching us would like. Wouldn't want to scare the foals watching here, we all know our dear leader would be upset at that. But I like you a lot, in general, so I am just going to do a little thing before I end you. Is that all right?"

My whole world was red, with even my eyesight becoming somewhat tinted with the color of blood. The knife got ever closer to her face, and she might have gulped.

"My favorite colors are purple and blue, you know. They match my hair."

She screamed even before the knife slid over the bridge of her nose, and the world dissolved in a red haze as the crowd erupted into a ocean of whoops and cheers.

OOOoooOOO

Companion Perk Gained! (Bout time?)

They Called Me Mad!
They did, didn't they? However, there is a method to your madness, considering that you have a 50% bonus to rolls against negative mental effects. Well, someone you know, anyway.

Perk Gained?\gfj

Ạ̸̵̪̼͙̭̼̳ͧ̑̓͑ͭ̓ͦͩ̓͞͝h͒̔̑͂ͯ͒̃͌͋̌̈̿̋͟҉̗̗̘͖̪̳̳g̷̷̙̣͇̘͖̓̾̈́ͭ̏ͪ̾͆͒͗ͩ̀̚͜͠a̒ͪͣ͋ͬ̽̓̓̾̄҉̷͎̹͉͓ì̧̀͋̊͋̽͊ͧ͌̋̕͡҉̰͚͉̘̦̱̤̬̤̲̲v̸̴̧̟̩̖̙̞͕̈́ͩͤ̌́ͩ͂ͫ͐͋ͪͭͯ̌̿̇̀̚͟ͅf̶̨̛̛̼̺̱̤̲͍̗͔̪͕́̃ͨ́̆͒͒ň̀̓̀ͯ́ͨ̓͒̄̓͒̂̄̾̆̚͘͏̢҉̣͇̭̫͉͙̲̝̺͈̺̬͙͎͇f̴̯̜͇̫̟̝̪̰̫̙͙͇̘̪̦ͦͥͬ̓̃ͬ͑̇̓ͫ̀̚͜b̷̋̅ͧ̎͂͒ͧͧͬ̈́̿̈́͞҉̤̥͔͔̠̫̫̜͢ȁ̸̸̜̗̲̩͚̘̗̫̄ͥ̎̍̊ͨ̈́̉̊̎̂̌́ͯ̓̍̆̆̕̕b̷̲̭͎̼̩̝̘͖̤̲͕̬͍͉ͯ̎͑͊̑ͧͨ͆ͮ̈͂ͫ̐ͪ͋̏̔̽͜͟g̵̷̙̺̮̱̺̰͍̣̓̌͊͛̊͊́̎ͫ̀̅́h̝̫̥̻͎̤̿̾́̒͊͟͞͠͠ä̸̰̯̼̘͔̱͕̬̬̺̦̹̯͖̩ͦ̓ͫ̓̀́?̜̩͖̗̘̝̫̻͙̱ͬ͗̀̿̌ͥ̀͑ͪ̽̌̇̎ͤ̍͊ͯ̀́͝f̴̶͂̈́ͫ͂̿̈́͏̸͕̺̻͙̳͉͎̣h͈͍̳̀̽̅̓ͬ͐ͣͭ̂͛̃ͨ́͝ͅs̷̶̐͑͂̀̋͗̎͗̅͂̀͞͏͙̤̜͙̗̩̘͔̻̤̤̖̟̮̭͕̺̗d̲͇͈̖̠̣̖͔̱̒ͨ͗ͣ̆̋̉́̑͡h̵͕̪͍͍͕̦̭̰̥̰̠̥͔̜̭̖̎ͧ̄̔̏͟͝aͮ̌̄ͣ̿ͫ̉̂ͧ̋ͧ̿͂ͬͭ͑̔̅̚҉͎̩̹͕̫͓̻͇̬͚͓̼̺̤͞
Ä́̔͑ͩ́͐ͯͭ͌ͧ̿̋̍ͧ͏̛̛̬̳̼͔͖͇̼̺̺̭̻̹̯̳̬̦̼̼̝H̨͎̗͖̥̜͎̳̮̙̻̮ͩ͐͛̍ͬͧͬ̆̊ͮͧ͋̓̍̆̄͟͟͠ͅA̓͗ͤ̀́̚͏̡͕̩̟̫͎͙̯͖̦̞̖͎̻͞ͅH̷̡̨̛̝͓̲̳̯̫̼̙͖̞̙͉̱̻̫͍̩̋̈́̄ͣͅẠ͔̣͓̺̻̠̈ͮͩ̊͘H̲͇̩̲̝̼̼͎̗͙̯̦̼̆ͦ̓̿̌̑͊̿̀͟Ā̧̮̞̻͖̅̓̃ͧ͋̌̚͝ͅH̸͙̘̯͔̹̥̞̔͑̅ͨ̀ͫ͌̌̌ͧ͜A̢̖̫̖̼̮̻̤̠̤̳̥̼̼̩̯̪͕͉͆̍͒́̽̄͘H̷̲̩̯̙͓̟̀̓ͧ̊ͨͪͬ͠Ạ̙̟̬̘̹̮͉̜̬̣͚̹͉͋͆̾͂̄ͯ̒ͫ̒ͫ̽̈ͮ̐͠ͅͅH͔̦͎̗̱͔̘̩̄͑̆͌ͯ͐̍͡Ḫ̫̟͓̰ͤ̐̓̆̓ͬͦͩ́̃͆͊ͣͮ͑ͪ̊̉͞͝͝͠͡Ā̸̹̮͖̫̠̾̂̑ͣ̎ͯ́H̝̜̙̘̮̜̯̲̞͇̤̭͂͆͑̄͐̇͌̀̄ͫ͛̾̅̒̽ͣͦͬ́͟͞Ȃ̧͙̼͔͍̠͉͕̄̀ͮH̡͚̘͔̖͇͖͈̜̥̬͈̩͓̫ͥ̂̎͑ͦ͂ͣ͐͋̑ͭ̂͝͞͝Ḥ̸͓̰̗̞̆͂̏̃́͢͠ͅͅA̷̡̡̤̠͈̗̠̭̳͎̰̠̭̟̜̩̹͒ͣ̔̌ͯ͗ͫ̓́ͭ̌ͪ̄̈́͑̐H̭̣̺̺͍̖̰̙̥͙̩͉̪͎̲̫͍͇̖́̄̅̀̓ͦ̇̇̒͛̾͛ͧ̏̈́̄́̚̚͜A̯̗̫͖̱̳͎̰͎̖̳̤̻̲̱͖͍̍̊̃̈ͧ͗̀ͭͩ͟͢͜͜ͅH͌̋̽͒̄̌̐̊́͏̯̺̦͚̮̻͍͖̩̼̯͍͇̳̩ͅͅÁ̃̈́͑̾̂̓̊̊̊́̒ͬ̐ͮ҉̥̞͍̩͢H̸̻̩̘̫̫͚͇͖̞̬͍̪̹͖͉̣̏͛̈́͂̈ͣ̋̂̀͢͟Aͣͩͪ̍̎͌ͦ͗ͯͫ̔͐̆ͤ̌͜͏̷̡̮̖͙͓̥̟̤̝̹̩͖̜͈͚ͅH̸͉͇̺͔̜͕͔͕̪̼͍͔͎̖͉̪ͬ̒̐̒͂͆ͤĤ̸̂͒̈́̌̎ͥ̊̌̓͜҉̢̺̦̱̬͉̬̰̟̥̤͎̳͙̫̘͔̤̳A̷̡̨͚̘̹̣͕͔̦̞͉͇͚͙͍̒͋̒̽̑̈͛͂̽̓ͬͦ̍̽͛ͩ̕͞H̸̛̖͎̞̘̘̲̖̪͈͎̥̹͚̣͚̪͖̼̥̊̄̐̐̔̏̓͋̔̽ͬ̎ͪͣ̌͂͊̇̚Á̵̛̪̺̣̱̟̜̥͈͕̼̞̃͆͊̿̒̀͒͆̅̋ͣ̀̋͡͠Ḧ̢̻͇̙͖̭̲̟̠́̾ͫ͋̔́͌̓ͫ͐ͥ̒̀͜H̷͒͒ͫ̂҉̨̨̜̩̗̲̠͠ͅA̸̧̧̼̰̖̦͎̗̞̤ͦ̀̌͂͛ͣ̾̾ͫͣ͛͒̅ͣͣ̈́͝Ḩ̶̧̥͈̞̲͚̞̂̅̓͂ͦ̾̿̌̏̍ͤ̋̂̚͘͟A̴̘̺͖̼̼̦̙ͮ̓ͧ͌͑̀̕͞Ḣ̰̺̻͎͕ͤ͗͊̑ͨͫ͑͆̀ͫ͒͆̕͘͟Ą̠̙̣̣͍̦͖̰̦̖̗̫̠̯̿̓͂̌͗̊̋̋ͣͬ̚̚ͅḨ̷̬̯̪̭͔̬̪̣͔͙̬͈̜̜̘͔͌̿ͨ̓̌̓̊̌ͨ͌ͥ̌ͩ͗͗̕͡H̡̛̭̮̦͖̭̻̖͎̲͚̯̟̪̖̮̼͂ͩ͗͌ͩ͑͆̿͐̑̀̚͘͞ͅA͂̂̇͛̊̉̾̿ͥ͐̋̓ͥ̆͘͏̘̖̤̹̻͉̦͚͖̞͖̗͖̦͙̺
THEFUNHASONLYJUSTBEGUN

Comments

[Forum Explorer]

No kidding.

Well I kinda like the idea of Watchful falling into some weird sort of serene insanity.