> Fallout Equestria 2: Ice Paradigm > by TheGypsyBard > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: Second Verse... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue: Second Verse... A PipBuck is a device, worn on a foreleg just above the hoof, issued to every pony in a Stable when they become old enough to start work. ....Is this thing on? It is? Well, uh... awesome. So I just go ahead and... yeah, yeah I got it. Well, here goes... Hi. My name is Faith. I'm a unicorn, I like to go swimming, take long walks on the beach, and not get shot at every other day. ...Well, a mare can dream, can't she? Thanks, Mom... Anyway, I live in a world unlike what used to pass as the norm. This is the land of Equestria.. the most dangerous, goddesses-forsaken piece of rock to exist, wrought with countless raiders, bandits, slavers, even mutated parasprites and radigators. It would take too long to explain what each of these is.. so I'll begin at the.. well, beginning. The start of my little tale. My mother was somepony that everyone knew, a paragon of justice and fair judgement. From the corners of the wasteland to the heart of its madness she was revered, be it in glory or infamy. To the denizens of the Wasteland, she represented an inner hope all possessed but none adhered to. If not for her intervention in their lives time and again, they would have fallen prey to the true horrors the Equestrian Landscape could conjure into being. This is untrue. In fact, this is almost heinously inaccurate. The truth of the matter is that she is just like any one of them. A simple drifter, a Lone Wanderer among the decadent ruins of the old world, trying to find the means of survival in an otherwise bleak and lifeless world. She can fall prey to the same harsh realities thrown at her on a (Strangely) regular basis. Only one thing prevented her from following the same path many have traveled time and time again, always leading to the final unknown. Friendship. Friendship is what has seen her through the ordeals of her life. Friendship is what empowered her to take that fateful step from the confines of the great tomb of a shelter, Stable Two. It was Friendship that gave her the strength necessary to endure the odds, all the hardships thrust upon her so suddenly, to take all that in stride and do what needed be done in order to save that same very thing. If not for bonds shared with her group of misfits, the rouge band of mismatched survivors, I would not even be here today. Of course, there's my.. well, other Mother. The mare in which the prior found sanctuary from her tribulations. The particular.. comfort that she offered was something so desperately needed. Some say that it was the only thing that gave her reason to go on. I don't understand why so many snicker when I talk of my mothers... well, suffice to say they were inseparable in spirit, no matter what life threw at them. Boy, did life throw one heck of a curve ball. What the little Stable Dweller could not expect was to suddenly find herself in control of all of Equestria's weather systems. The SPP, one Single Pegasus Project, created a means to do the jobs of the pegasi of old, creating sunny days when the plants need sunshine, rainy when the land grows parched, you name it, and puts all of it on a single pony. Knowing this, the prospect seeming so tantalizing and extraordinary, my mother did what no other would; committed herself, body and mind, to the eternal task of weather control for the greater good of all of Equestria. This was no small task, it required immense focus and a constant, vigilant eye. Not only this, but the user must be willing to attach themselves to an apparatus that would supply all the nutrients their body could require in adequate portions... as they would be bonded to then SPP indefinitely. The amount of devotion needed to do this.. to leave her friends... her eternal companion... to give up everything for a land where a mere fraction would actually thank her is unimaginable. No matter what mistakes she has made in the past, this one moment proved just how good this pony truly was. All for the salvation of a pile of rocks and shabby huts. ...Oh, there was also one other last hope for the entire wasteland. Before my mother strapped herself into the SPP, she discovered something immense. The something in question was called The Garden s of Equestria. This colossal machine was the ultimatum of the Ministry of Arcane Science's head, Twilight Sparkle, in the event the war progressed to unthinkable progressions.. which, uh, it did. The purpose of the machine is to purge the corrupted substances of the land, all of the radiation, taint, and other foul excretions, leaving a clean landscape in its wake. It evokes the power of the Elements of Harmony: Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty, and Magic. Only the bearers of these Elements can power the machine. ...Which brings up a problem. We didn't know who all the bearers were. Homage, Calamity, Velvet, and Derpy each represented one of the elements, Honesty, Loyalty, Kindness, and Laughter, respectively. Despite this, Generosity and Magic remained aloof and unknown. Thus began the final quest of this group of friends; the search for the Elements of Harmony. They searched high and low, from the steepest mountain peak to the dankest sewer hovel, without any success. There have been some close ones, though never enough to truly act as one of the Elements. Eventually the group stopped searching, and settled down into their own families, hoping that one day the final Elements would reveal themselves. For a time, they were content. Then.. the unthinkable happened.. again. Really, we encountered a lot of impossibilities. The SPP, the source of clear skies and warm days, of starry nights and breathtaking sights.. broke. Not the sort of 'Oops I dropped your radio' broke. The kind that sent Equestria into a state of immense cold drifts and sudden temperature extremes. Staying warm had always been a problem, but these new extremes were severe even to the most weathered Wastelander. It prompted the question: Why isn't Littlepip putting a stop to this? That is what I hoped to find out, and what spurred me to take up a journey to the SPP and find out myself. Of course, my mother had immediate reservations on that idea, but I was not to be swayed. So, with nothing but the clothes on my back, a few dozen rounds of ammunition and an average stock rifle, I made way on one of the greatest journeys of my life, one that would shape my future in ways I couldn't imagine, much the same as the maternal figure I sought to find. You know what they say.. Second Verse... > Chapter One: New Beginnings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter One: New Beginnings Red it's dead, Yellow it's mellow. Cold. That's all I feel. Cold. Ok, maybe I'm just overreacting. I do have a habit of doing that, but I kinda doubt this is it. Having been trudging through the constant snowfall for well over two weeks, you have a tendency to build up an immunity to such inconveniences. Sadly, I am not one of those ponies. I am the one who will gripe and moan and groan until somepony builds me a working fireplace. Believe me, I tried it once. Too bad I didn't have the figure to follow through on that one. Regardless, it's cold. Fastened along my waist billows a thick winter parka, a small number two etched into the collars and in the square of the back. The light teal overcoat meshes together to form an adequate source of camouflage for hiding in the densely packed snow. Strapped to my hip with a worn leather belt rests a small canteen, half-filled with water scavenged from a nearby waterhole. An old .308 Hunting Rifle is slung across my back, popping it lightly with each step. Jeez, this snow makes navigating a pain in my as- erm.. flank. Yeah. Pulling hooves high in order to clear the snow's surface, I continues onward, trusting my instincts to keep me on the right track. Lofting my packs and weaponry was nothing special for me, a chore undergone nearly every day in the wastes. The extra winter clothing, however... that was taking its toll. Unused to much physical punishment past simple hiking often drove me to overexert myself, resulting in hyperventilation and even blackouts. "Faith! Hol' up now!" Letting out a clearly audible groan, Faith turns to address the familiar voice calling out to me. "'Bout time I caught up to yer sorry hide. Wad'ya think yer doing makin' this trip all by yer lonesome?" The stallion addressing me, one whom bore a charcoal colored coat coupled with a dirt-riddled white mane, slowed to a stop before me from his gallop. His words list slightly as he regains his breath, obviously having been running for some time. "I thought I told Mom I didn't need a babysitter, so why are you here Amity?" My tone may let slip a bit of my developing irritation. If he caught wind of that, Amity didn't show it. Instead, he puffs air out in a dismissive manor. "Like ah was gon' let ya go without me taggin' along. Somepony's gotta keep yah' from falling in another hole." My face gains a pinkish hue as he chuckles. "That was one time! Stop bringing it up!" With a stomp of frustration, I swivel around and begin trotting forward again, Amity following behind closely. "I'm not a filly anymore, I'm a grown mare." I say, none too friendly. "That ye are, don't make these wastes no safer, does'it?" Dam- I mean, Darn you Amity. Stupid pegasi and their logic.. With another huff I set to trying to shake my newly acquired tail, only causing him to match suit. Ahead, a silhouette begins to form, expanding until it coalesces into a much larger structure. Recognizing it as the Hero's Skyport, one fashioned after Mother cleared the cloud layer from the sky in honor of her. Thank Celestia, I was beginning to think I would have to deal with Amity's whole 'Honor' spiel again. Not wanting to jinx myself, I quickly made my way toward it, hoping to see my old guard friend. Oddly, I found nopony waiting for us at the entry gate. Even more strange was the absence of anypony at all in the surrounding areas. Usually this place attracted quite the crowd, often of those who wanted to get as close as possible to the Hero of the Wasteland. Obviously, Amity was having the same ideas. "Where do'ya think them pony-folk went off 'ta? Strange t' see the place so em-" BLAM The shot rang out above the din of the blizzard, causing me to almost jump sidelong into Amity... no, into where Amity was prior. He was now ducking behind an overturned trash can, whipping out a pristine-looking 10mm Handgun. How come he gets all the fancy weaponry?.. One of the bullets whiz by my muzzle, sparking off a nearby lamp post. Right, shoot first, complain later. I levitate the rifle from my back and duck behind the remains of an old sky wagon, narrowly avoiding another zinging bullet. I slide close to the edge, tempting a check around it to get sense of the situation. Across from Amity and I, what looks like a small group of ragged... trash bags? Um... yeah, trash bags were attacking us. With guns. Go figure. Either way, bullets still hurt, so I get real cozy with the wagon as the projectiles continue seeking us out, unstrapping my own weapon and lifting it to my eye. Chancing a second look, I line up the shot best I'm able and fire a round off, managing to hit the general area of the strange attacker's head, though it only shrieks and dives behind cover. Seriously, though. Trash bags? Putting aside my (obvious) fashion quirks, I set about taking pot shots such as before with each of the nearest targets, hoping to at least provide cover for Amity, being the more adept markspony that he was. Staying true to my sentiments, he already begins hammering them with bursts of fire, wounding at least two of them with each new strike. The would-be bandits quickly realize they've not stumbled across easy prey as they once thought, judging by the now desperate retreat they have begun to take. Amity does not lighten up his barrage until the last of the Trash Bags disappear over the far hills, no longer within leisurely viewing distance. "Wha' in tarnations was wit' those fella's?" Amity queries once they're out of view, seeing the situation has calmed at least somewhat. "You think I know? You're asking the wrong mare these kind of questions. Re-holstering her rifle, Faith ventures further into the ruins of the Skyport, grimacing at the sight beheld to her. Row after row of desecrated pony corpses litter the surrounding square. Each one bears its own individual marking, be it a skinned hide or charred cutie marks, they all show sign of a deliberate execution and torture. This process was not chosen at random, or even restricted to any sort of paradigm. Stallions, mares and foals alike, none were spared from whatever horror delivered itself upon the mass. "This.. this is horrible.." I just couldn't believe what i was seeing. Sure, these events were common enough in the wasteland, but to see something so violent in what was once a peaceful tourist attraction only a few days prior.. it's unthinkable. "Listen... Listen, Faith." Amity takes hold of my by the shoulders, pressing his hooves into them lightly. "You're stronger 'an this, ah know yah' are. Just.. we need t' find ou' wha' happened to the lot of 'em." He drops back down, giving me a reassuring smile. Strained as it was, it definitely helped. Without the thought of impending terror on my mind (Mostly), I led the way towards the still active grav lift. This little beauty is the work of several of the aristoponies in Tenpony Tower, a way to transport ponie to and from the SPP Hub without requiring the efforts of Pegasi. It uses the same technology as Laser Rifles, acting as an incubator to transmit energy between a large magnet and an alloy, allowing the 'levitation' of a platform all the way to the top. Stepping onto the dense platform, I feel the familiar sense of dread begin to settle into my stomach; I really, really don't like heights. Yeah, I know that's supposed to be normal for unicorns, but- ohmygoshwe'reoffthegroundIreallydon'tlikethis! I find myself clutching to the flooring for dear life, grasping for any sort of foothold I can. To the side I hear, as always, the laughter of my dear friend Amity. "S-Shuttup..." I shoot at him, only raising even more hysteria, much to my chagrin. Eventually (Thankfully), I manage to get at least a bit of a hold on myself, managing to stand up. I do deliberately keep my attention focused anywhere but the edges, though. Hey, it works! "Yer ma' said you were havin' some strange dreams lately, didn' she?" Oh for- Mom! I told you not to tell anyone! No one can keep a secret anymore. "Well, yes I.. kinda have been having some interesting, I don't know, visions while I slept. I didn't think much of them at first, but... with what's happened, I'm not so sure." Many months ago, before the snow began to fall, I woke up in a cold sweat, the image of a cracked and shattered capsule fresh on my mind, empty and bare. I told Mom and rushed to the Hub as fast as my hooves could take me. Mother was exactly where she should be, untouched and intact. I knew she would be, but I just had to make sure. I was so scared... Ahem. After the winter set in, I began thinking about the dream again, and rue that I did not act upon my feelings. I only hope she's alright.. I don't want to lose her. Not after- ... Right. No more sad thoughts. "Regardless 'o your dreamsakes, what'cha think about tha' Brotherhood a' Steel's latest discovery?" He is, of course, talking about the Water Purifier. It's really an amazing machine, able to turn much of the wasteland's infected and irradiated water and convert it into clean, drinkable liquid. "I think it's amazing what they're doing, but.. seems like it might grow a little out of hoof once the majority of the wasteland learns about it." That much liquid gold in one spot is bound to attract more 'questionable' pony-folk. Several of their caravans have already been sacked by bandits, picked clean and left to rot. "Ah jest hope folks back home're able t' get their supplies on time this month." Amity comments. I nod in replay, though my attention is soon drawn elsewhere. The platform began to shake (AHHHHHH!) as it neared the final destination - The SPP Hub. As the tower peaked over the edge of the horizon, Amity and I both caught our breathe in our throats. The tower lay on it's side, having been split across the center, hanging onto it's lower half only by large tendrils of titanium wiring. The entryway might as well have been removed altogether, a smoking hole the only sign of where it once stood. Corpses lie scattered in a similar state to the ones below, though not in organized rows or columns. Broken guns and casings lie upon the stained steel girders, still sporting trails of smoke billowing from their spent ends. All that pales in comparison to what lay in the center of the mass of bodies. Mother... She... NO!