> Fallout: Equestria - The Oddity
>  by Masquerade313
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Odd Jobbin'
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Take a seat youngin', stay around for a spell.
I've got a little story that I wanted to tell."





I remember just about everything.

I remember, and remember often, to ask myself if it’s a blessing, or a curse.

I remember that I still can’t decide.

I remember growing up. I grew up in what I thought was a perfect town. It wasn’t large, like Manehatten. I’d been there, done that, and never wanted to again. Ours was a small town, not in population, but in the sense that everyone knew everyone. Trade was conducted between members of the town, and hardly ever outside. We were very self-sufficient. Each family grew their own crops, had their own livestock, and made their own clothes and what not.

The air where I lived was clear. Buildings didn’t impede its travel and cigarettes didn’t diminish its purity. The water where I lived was clear as well. It, like the air, wasn’t trapped or dirty and filled with cigarettes. It was pleasing to look at -- the deep, calming, blue of the water. It was a source of joy, not a resource to barter for. The lake was large enough for everyone to either play or wash in, and there was still space left over.

I remember my friends, one specifically: a white unicorn with a brown mane, and eyes that shifted between blue and green. His name is Chance. We look the same, we act the same, hell, if my coat wasn’t tinged brown, I’d swear we were twins. I remember, as I sit here crying inside of my radsuit, that he’s still here. I can hear him snoring through the suit at the moment which is good. Sleep seems like it would be a commodity out in the Wasteland.

I remember why I’m out here...

I remember my mother. She was a plain pony, for the most part. She was beautiful too, no matter how much she didn’t believe that she was. She loved me like a mother would, and then some. She cared for everyone as if she were their mother; family friends and strangers, or the closest to a stranger that one could be in such a small town, were all treated the same by her.

I remember one day, in the spring, when the sun was shining and the birds were singing and the smell of living things was everywhere. My friend and I were at the lake, playing and laughing. We were having fun. She walked towards us stiffly. Her eyes were red. I remembered how she looked the same when she was upset. She called us back to the house, and we followed her there.

I remember how we couldn’t say anything. We just couldn’t. It was the same as how we felt at funerals, as if saying something wouldn’t end well. We were never sure what ‘not ending well’ entailed, but neither of us were eager to find out.

I remember not seeing anyone on the way home. Not anyone that I didn’t know, but no one at all. Stalls had been abandoned at the market, fruit and bits were strewn over the ground. I had an urge to go pick up the bits, but I wasn’t eager to find out what would happen if I did.

I remember seeing a doll on the ground. We were walking towards it. My mother stepped over it without breaking stride. If anything, she started walking faster. I stopped to pick up the doll. It was one of a well known unicorn: Sweetie Belle.

I remember who it belonged to -- a certain, special filly named Robin. Back then, she was just a filly, nothing more. It didn’t seem the same as talking to my mom, though. I was comfortable talking to my mom, but not her. We always caught ourselves staring at each other, and she would laugh at me, and I’d get embarrassed, and I’d leave. I always came back to her though. I was never embarrassed to the point where I didn’t want to talk to her. I enjoyed our conversations, and I liked the way she laughed, yet I didn’t like the way I felt around her.

I remember that I was so confused…

I remember running to catch up to my mom.

I remember feeling upset that my mom didn’t stop, but happy that my friend did.

I remember finally entering the house. Mom said that Dad was in the basement, and that we were going to join him. I was told that I wasn’t supposed to go into the basement, but my mom said that this time was different.

I remember seeing the door to the basement that first time. It was large, very large. Maybe about four, maybe five ponies tall. It was shaped like a gear, and there was a painted on ‘75’. It looked new.

My mom went over to a table with many levers on it. I was too short to see what she was doing, but not too short to see smoke coming from the door. I would’ve expected it to open noisily, but it was instead a soft slide, like that of a refrigerator. It was unnerving.

I remember seeing Robin, next to her parents, huddled against her mom and crying her eyes out. My friend had rushed towards his parents, my mom towards my father, and I towards her. I didn’t want to drop her doll, so I nudged her with my muzzle. She saw me and began to cry even more before she sat back on her haunches and wrapped her arms around the back of my neck. She pulled me down awkwardly before she sobbed softly into my mane.

I remember my mom pulling me away. She explained that place to me. It was called a Stable, a refuge in case of… something. She didn’t tell me what as we walked together. She pointed out some places to me, although each one looked the same. Each separate building, or maybe room was a more apt description, was made of metal. It was all dull, grey, unmarked, unpainted metal. The doors on the room were also metal. Most of them had huge wheels on them, like a ship’s steering wheel. Others were larger, and flat, each with a box with a few glowing buttons to the side of them. One undistinguished door, she said, was the home of my friend. Another was apparently Robin’s home. Not far from the door that lead to science lab was our home.

I remember how odd that sounded. Weren’t we in our home? This was just the basement.

“No,” said my mother. “This is our home now.”

“What about the outside? Can I go back?”

I remember seeing her cry before she opened the door to our new home.





My friend stirred in his sleep. It must’ve been something I did. I was shaking… violently. My memories were even more painful than the new world around me.

The noises I had been familiar with were still there. Waves lapped against the lake’s shore, the insects that were still awake were buzzing around lazily, and the shouts of sleepless ponies could be heard.

Each sound was new, though.

The lapping of the waves was a painful reminder that the water was terrible now. Even Manehatten couldn’t beat the smell of decay from whatever had died in there after being desperate enough to try and drink it.

The insects buzzed lazily, but not lazily as if they were content. The buzzing was a pathetic drone, one that creatures would only make while near death. They buzzed in an effort to find a slightly nicer patch of horror to spend their last minutes on.

The shout of each sleepless pony was cause for terror. You could never be quite sure what kind of pony was shouting, but the voices were always accompanied by gunshot. We were in fact, alone. The Stable that we knew was gone, the ponies that we knew were gone, the best times of our lives were gone.

I could still see Chance through my tears. It was strange, how easily my friend could sleep. With what happened, I would have expected him to be pacing around. But with how he was acting, I couldn’t expect anything else. He slept as if nothing bothered him.

I didn’t want to stay awake. I didn’t want to fall asleep.

I couldn’t fight it though.

I remember fighting to stay awake. I couldn’t be sure why. Nightmares? I was already in one. Dreams? No, anything but good dreams. Luna wouldn’t be that cruel to send me happy thoughts, only for me to wake up in this Goddess forsaken Wasteland.

Was I afraid to die?

…

Yes, and no.

This Wasteland would be an awful place to die in, and the number of ways I possibly could were creeping into my mind. I couldn’t force any happy memories to the surface. My life flashed before me multiple times as I cried for how much I had died already.

I remember wanting to scream as the darkness finally got hold of me.





“SURPRISE!”

Lights flashed on so quickly that I had to move my hoof to my face.

“You turned the lights on too fast! You blinded the poor kid!”

I blinked away an afterimage and looked around. I was in a room of the Stable, one that could be considered a banquet hall. It was decorated for my tenth birthday. There were games and decorations and lots of other ponies, though. This was a party! I’d never had a birthday party before! Maybe a few friends over to spend more time with than normally, and a choice present of mostly practical quality, and sometimes a piece of cake, but never a full-blown party!

I was excited of course. Everyone knew that when you turned ten in the Stable, you were given a PipBuck. It was a chunky, complex, piece of metal with lights and fancy spells that everypony wanted. It was just a cutie mark away from the transformation from colt/filly to full grown buck/mare.

Everyone I knew was there (and remember, we were a small town, living in my basement. Any excuse to not know who was there would be a bad one, and terribly transparent). Of course my mom and dad were there, and they invited everyone they knew. My parents knew everyone, so everyone was there.

My friend Chance, new friends I had made, Robin, the Overmare, the Stable's scientists, chefs, doctors, etc. You name them, they're there (and it's quite possible they were within reach). The two PipBuck Technicians were there too, making minor adjustments to the one I would shortly receive.

The Overmare, our omnipotent and always kind leader -- or so my mom told me -- came over to talk to me. This was right before Robin would’ve spun me around to begin a game of ‘pin the tail on the pony’. I didn't want to talk to the Overmare! She was creepy! However, my parents were smiling encouragingly at me to follow her.

We sat down away from most of the noise. She looked down at me with brown eyes from behind a blonde mane. "Oh, Odd Job, you look so much like your mother!”

Well... Pale brown coats, dark brown manes and tails, and blue eyes. We did look alike. There were obvious gender differences though, and my mother had her cutie mark, whereas I was blank flanked. “No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” She was speaking playfully. “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Your mother is a very important person. You know that don’t you?”

I knew my mom cared for the ponies of Stable Seventy-Five with a passion, and she was well respected because of it, but that wasn’t important, was it? She wasn’t something like a doctor, or an engineer, something that people needed. She was… a commodity? She was something that people wanted. My blank stare must have appeared to be understanding. The Overmare didn’t give me enough time to gather my thoughts before she spoke again.

“She’s a generous pony, she is. Something that the future needs… I wanted to talk about your future.”

“I’m only ten.”

“I was only twelve when I became the Overmare.”

“That’s an inherited position. You had no choice.”

“That may be true, but it was never too early, hmm? The young are the hope of the future. Hasn’t your mother told you that before?”

Before I could say ‘no’, The Overmare turned to see the PipBuck Technicians, Mr. ‘Monkey’ Wrench and Mr. Phillips, walking towards us. She gave them a nice smile and they handed her the PipBuck and the key to it. Someone in the room gave a loud shush, and everyone walked their way towards us. My mother was on the verge of tears, happy ones, though. She could be so emotional. My father walked towards me too, nudging me and giving me a wide smile.

The Overmare gave a polite cough before levitating the PipBuck in front of me. “Odd Job, as Overmare of Stable Seventy-Five, it is my pleasure to award you with your very own PipBuck.”

I lifted my left forehoof to her, and after she strapped it on, she turned the key. The clicking noise caused everybody to cheer.

Robin and Chance ran up to me and gave me a hug before scampering away at the sounds of their parents’ voices. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, son.” My dad leaned over my shoulder and pointed at the PipBuck. “Hit that button, why don’t you?”

As I searched for the correct button to hit, I accidentally scrolled through some sort of inventory sorter. It revealed that I had a bobby pin -- okay, two pins -- hidden in my mane. Quickly, I switched to something else that showed a basic pony picture, naming off each limb. It counted my chest as a limb, which was strange. My dad reached across and hit the correct button, and my mom quieted everyone down again as my PipBuck started to play music.

"Happy Birthday to you…”

Slowly, the crowd joined in.

“Happy Birthday to you…”

My friends, lead by Robin, sang too.

“Happy Birthday, Dear Odd Job…”

Even Chance joined in.

“Happy Birthday to you…”





I resisted the urge to blink as Chance shined a light into my eyes.

He set the tool down and then turned to his father, shrugging. “He seems fine to me.”

I was in the infirmary. Celestia, I hated this place. Always had that smell, which I was told was bone marrow. Even without regular amputations, this place managed to smell like bone marrow? Unfortunately, the smell, and whatever problem you had, weren’t the only things one could suffer from in the infirmary. It was terribly boring. Not like the plain, dull metal of the rest of the Stable boring, but the kind where you just had to sit there and notice that it was just plain, dull metal boring.

How had I ended up there? Well… let’s say I don’t have the best of luck. And when having to use the only flight of stairs in the entire Stable, my luck reared its ugly head. That ugly mug probably sneered at me as I fell from the top to the bottom. My head hurt, my chest hurt, and my leg hurt, and I was currently being checked for all three.

“Good news!” Said Chance, scribbling something down on a clipboard. “No concussion!”

“Yay…”

Chance’s father, who was walking towards a cork board on the other side of the room, took the opportunity to punch my right side, which was the side that hurt the most. I couldn’t even tell where he hit me. All I knew was that it hurt more than it already did, coincidentally when he passed by me and chuckled.

“Here’s some more good news.” He stopped talking for a moment and levitated some documents around before pinning them to the board. “No broken bones! You’ve got, well, you had some fractures, but we took care of those before you woke up.”

“It still hurts…”

Another sharp pain, another chuckle.

“Get over it, you big baby.” Before he walked out the door, he nodded to Chance, who nodded back.

Chance proceeded to find a brace and a syringe. He urged me (without punching me) to put the brace on while he walked over to my side. I’m pretty sure he waited until the exact moment I went to tighten the straps to inject me with whatever was in the syringe.

Before I could say anything, he explained. “It’s a weak painkiller.”

“Weak painkiller my flank! I can’t feel anything anymore!” Well, it still hurt a bit from where his dad punched me, but the punches were all I could feel. I would’ve wobbled my braced leg to emphasize that, but not only was it not possible, it would probably have been a bad idea. “So I can go now?”

“Yeah, you can go.”

I headed towards home. The brace was awkward to walk with, but not for very long. In fact, in the few steps I’d taken, I’d already gotten used to it, just in time for Chance to grab hold of me with his magic and turn me around.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?”

He gave me a very sarcastic, half-lidded stare, which I returned before walking away again. And again, he turned me around with his magic.

“What?!”

“Don’t you have something you need to do?”

“I need to go lie down. I don’t need to go take some stupid test.”

“Now come on, Odd, everyone in the Stable has to take the C.A.T. Everyone. And everyone needs to do it today.”

“Why can’t I take it, say, when my leg is better?”

“Why can’t you take it, say, the way your leg is now?” He turned to walk towards the testing area, keeping a levitation field around me. “You’re still walking, you’re not having any sort of reaction to anything, and, what if you had a job to do? Would you let your perfectly okay leg get in the way of that?”

“Taking the C.A.T. isn’t my job.” I halted and turned to go away again, only to have Chance’s magic drag me away.

Persistence! Damn other persistent ponies!

He stopped dragging me about halfway to the testing room, when both of us heard something.

“Leave. Me. Alone, Snap!”

“Why don’t you make me, Robin?”

“Yeah, why don’t you make him?”

Snap, Ginger Snap, was the Stable’s resident asshole. He wasn’t the sarcastic ass that Chance’s father was, but the dominant, unapologetic asshole that only he could be. The uncreative voice accompanying him would be that of Soda Pop, and that meant that Static, or as we called him, Crackle, would not be very far away.

Chance sighed heavily as I made my way towards the three. The first we met was Crackle. He was staring vacantly out into space from the hallway he was guarding. Snap and Pop were behind him, the former pinning Robin to the wall.

“Get out of the way, Crackle,” we said together.

He chuckled. “Hey, Snap, we got another one.”

“Well, if it isn’t Hoof-Job.” Pop and Crackle chuckled at that. Pop took Snap's place as Snap walked towards me and gave me a shove, sending me to the floor.

I was glaring daggers at him. I didn't care that he had hit me, but that he was harassing her. “Get away from her," I growled.

“Pfft. Yeah right, what are you gonna do, pinch me?” He went back to Robin, pinning her against the wall, mostly with his hips. He moved his muzzle close to hers. “Don’t pay attention to those colt-cuddlers, baby.”

Robin struggled a bit, but was unable to move him. “Get away from me, you pervert!”

Snap grinned and slapped her, still pinning her against the wall. “Feisty, aren’t you? How about you put some of that spunk to a… better use?”

I got back up and tapped the buck on the shoulder, leaving him enough time to turn his head to me before back-hoofing him, PipBuck first. Snap, indeed. Something in his face just took after his name as he fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

DAMN, that felt good.

My satisfaction was short lived as Pop made his way towards Robin, once again pinning her to the wall. She still wasn’t strong enough to push him away, but with a hindleg that was perfectly placed, she didn’t have to. He ran away screaming.

Crackle looked stupefied (didn’t he always?). He bent down and grabbed a knife from one of his barding’s pockets. He snorted, stomped, and started charging towards us. I turned to help Robin along before we heard a thud on the ground. Crackle had fallen and was doing a magnificent job of acting like someone who had just received anesthesia while Chance kicked the knife away.

That left only Snap.

“You son of a bitch!” Snap spat a broken tooth and a nice spray of blood onto the floor. “My father will hear about this!”

“Your father’s not going to hear about this, if you know what’s good for you,” Chance said. “I think self-defense is a much better charge than assault on a medical patient and sexual harassment.”

“And I could easily turn that into attempted rape,” Robin chimed in.

That seemed to shut Snap up, and he walked into the C.A.T. testing room, shooting all three of us, especially me, a dirty look.

Robin turned to hug me. “Thank you so much, Odd! I wish I knew more bucks like you.”

Wait... What?

I might have actually deflated. What did she mean by that? Did she like me? Wasn't I enough like me?

That thought plagued me as Snap, Robin and I took our seats. Chance, having already taken the C.A.T. (I didn’t mention his standard medic cutie mark yet, did I? That red cross? Well, he has one.), was taking Crackle away. I wasn’t sure if he was headed for the infirmary or the Overmare’s Office, but I was hoping for the latter. He did draw a knife on us…

“Alright kids. Settle down, settle down.” Our teacher, Mr. Ed, trotted over to the front of the class. He scanned the entire room to make sure we were listening before he spoke again. “So, you’re all here to take the C.A.T. Trust me, it's as simple as that. But, since ponies only gain their cutie marks through experience, you won’t just be sitting there and checking boxes.” He walked back over to his desk and touched something, causing the wall in front of us to hiss and slide into the ceiling, revealing eight doors. “Pick a door, any door! They’re all the same test, I assure you!”

We stood there for a second as Mr. Ed touched his desk again. A few seconds later, he did so again, and again, before he finally slammed his hoof down, causing each door to start sliding open. “Who knows? Maybe one of you will be able to fix this thing when you’re done!”

We each took our place as the doors slid open. Robin looked back at our teacher. “So… do we just go? Or… what exactly do we do?”

“Just go. The test will start once you go far enough inside. Oh, and don’t worry, the doors won’t close on you.” He shouted, trying to catch the attention of a few ponies who’d already advanced. “You only have to go far enough to get your cutie mark!”

I entered my door, wary of how certain Mr. Ed was of us obtaining our cutie mark. Surely this test couldn’t make us try our hoof at everything.

Could it?

The first room was maybe fifteen feet wide by fifteen feet long. Off to the side were were some shelves with various tools on them, but the only thing of note was a glowing terminal situated to the side of the door before me. I walked towards it.

It read: “Your dad is stuck behind this door! How are you going to get him out?”

The cursor at the bottom blinked at me as I thought. I looked at some of the tools. Wrenches, blowtorches, screwdrivers. I could pick the lock, possibly. Seeing nothing easier with which to open the door, I pulled a bobby pin out of my mane and a screwdriver from the shelf and got to work.

I really should start carrying around my own screwdriver. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if I snuck out with this--

There was a bang on the door that I could only attribute to as a gunshot. Sure, I didn’t know what one sounded like, but I knew that they were loud. And this one was loud enough to cause me to jump backwards -- snapping my pin in the process -- crash against one shelf, and cause it to land awkwardly on top of me.

I gave my award-winning half-lidded sarcastic stare to no one in particular before working my way out from underneath the shelf. Thankfully, I succeeded, but the shelf fell the rest of the way and took out the other, causing something to shoot out at the terminal and cover it in paint, while also managing to crack the screen and turn it off.

Celestia, please banish the person who made this to the moon.

The gunshot noise returned in three quick bursts, accompanied by a metallic voice. “Please, son, open the door.”

“If only I knew how…” I muttered. My pin had broken, and, lucky me, I wasn’t able to get it out. I slammed my head against the door before turning to the terminal and waiting for it to power back up.

I could see that the screen had turned back on, so I rubbed some of the paint away to see a few new options on it.

- C.A.T. simulation in progress. 0% complete.

- End C.A.T. simulation?

- Unlock test door.

Surely enough, one click later, the door’s tumblers turned and it slid open. The pony robot on the other side thanked me for unlocking the door, but went to sit in a corner of the room he’d been wanting me to get him out of. If that thing had really been my father, I would’ve just switched its high blood pressure medication with sugar pills.

There was another terminal near the next door. Unfortunately, it looked to be fizzing out. I gave it a strong tap, which caused it to fizz out completely.

“Son? Stop messing with that terminal and come over here.”

I walked closer to the robot and took a seat. All the while, ruby-red eyes stared me down. It was a well-built robot, if not a terribly disturbing one. Aside from the eyes, the metal skin, and the voice, it looked like a real pony.

A few moments and several mechanical whirrs later, a pistol came out of the robot’s hoof. “I need you to take this and *BZZZT*… and… and …and…” I tapped the robot on the head, and he continued. “Kill Norm. He’s the pony that will come through the door.”

“What? Why, exactly, do you need me to kill him?”

“Because I want you to.”

What better reason than that? “I don’t even know how to use a gun… Can’t you two just talk it out?”

I could literally hear the cogs in his head turning. The pistol slipped back inside of his hoof just in time for the next door to slide open, revealing another robot pony whom I assumed was Norm.

“Howdy, neighbor!”

“Hey, Norm! Whatcha been up to?”

Their hooves touched and began to shake up and down, slowing before freezing completely. I didn’t even bother wondering about why this was part of the test. I simply went through the now-open door and to the next terminal, only to find out that the screen was dead. I could hear a strange, metallic sniffing noise from behind me, and sure enough, another robot -- this one colt-sized -- was there.

“Oh, come on, kid. Don’t cry…”

“But I did something bad. *sniff* I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“You know, my parents say that talking about what you’ve done makes you feel better. Just tell me what’s wrong. I won’t punish you or anything.”

Another sniff. “Really?” I nodded, and the robot child gave a raspy, metallic sigh. “Okay. Well, I took the batteries out of that terminal, and now you can’t finish the test.”

“Could I have the batteries? You won’t get in trouble if you give them to me.”

“Oh yeah! That makes perfect sense!” He lifted his hoof up towards me, the front of it sliding back, revealing the terminal’s batteries. I held them with my teeth, carefully making sure that my tongue didn’t touch both ends. “I feel so much better now!” This robot froze while standing up, looking like he was cheering.

Again, I didn’t even bother.

I instead went up to the terminal and looked it over. There was a diagram of battery placement inside of an indent on the bottom. The cover wasn’t even required, as the terminal flared to life as soon as the batteries clicked in. Two items flashed on the screen: one that displayed my progress (39% complete), and the other that opened the next door. I clicked the second.

Yet another robot pony was there, who barged out of the door and nearly tackled me to the ground. “Doctor, doctor! I’m not sure what this is, but I think it’s spreading!”

Another damn robot! This one a hypochondriac. Honestly, it can get a virus, but that’s not even close to-- Oh… Maybe that glowing red something moving up its leg was the ‘infection’.

Still slightly skeptical, I walked over to the room’s terminal.

WARNING: UNKNOWN INFECTION SPREADING QUICKLY (20% INFECTED)

- Medicate infected area.

- Restrain the patient and observe the infection spread.

- Remove the infected area with a precision laser.

I had no idea what kind of sadist would pick the second option. It was quite the toss up between one and three. I didn’t know what to medicate a real pony with, much less a robot pony. But there was a rather laser-y looking item on the shelf next to me. I grasped it with my teeth, and the grip conformed to my mouth’s shape quite quickly. Wasting no time, I moved over to the robot and hit a button. The laser turned on instantly, and the red beam burned a hole through the leg, (yet somehow, it neglected to burn the floor). I gave a little shake and the leg came off completely, causing the pony to fall to the floor. Even though I knew this was a robot, I couldn’t help but shudder when he fell over and thanked me, regardless of his severed leg spewing something black over the floor. I kept the laser and moved onto the next door.

The door slid open. In the next room, there was yet another robot pony, set up behind a stall with a bunch of wares scattered about. His head turned to look at me as I moved towards the door.

“It’s locked.”

“Of course it is!” I slammed my head against the door. “I don’t suppose you have anything that can help me?”

There was a faint whirring noise before the robot spoke again. “Why don’t you take a look at my wares?”

“Okay...” I set my laser (for lack of a better word) gun on the table as I searched through his stock. There were more batteries, but there wasn’t a terminal around to put them in. He had knives too. I shuddered. Why would a robot need knives? There were some more things that seemed rather trivial: lunchboxes, small books, bottle caps, surgical tubing, keys--

Wait a second.

I turned to look at the door. With a fair bit of squinting, I could discern a keyhole. How primitive, compared to the rest of the items around here.

“How much for the keys?”

The robot’s head moved down and cocked to the side as a red wave of light moved back and forth over the table. More whirring ensued before his hoof peeled away, revealing five sets of pincers (Dear Celestia, that was creepy). He slowly, and I mean slowly, to the point where I wished that I had a time-traveling cutie mark, picked up each key in turn.

“Which one would you like?”

“Which one opens that door?”

“I am not obligated to tell y-- I am not sure.”

“… All five, then?”

“That will be,” more whirring. “One hundred bits.”

It was like the robot punched me in the gut. I didn't know anybody that could spare a hundred bits for keys! I could afford only one key! I could try to sell the keys back, but I’d be lucky to get back every bit I spent.

Dumb economics.

I could’ve bartered for the keys with my laser, but with my luck, I’d need it again. I looked around, and saw something behind the robot. It looked like a safe.

However, I had no more bobby pins. Then there was only one other option.

“Oh my! Someone is trying to pick the lock on your safe!”

“Hey! Stop that!” The robot’s head turned a complete 180 (Luna-tier creepiness achieved!) and he was distracted for long enough for me to swipe three of the keys.

He turned back to me. “It seems that I scared him off. Thank you for the warning. Can I offer you a discount on these...“ He cocked his head again, the wave of light moving across his hoof. “Two keys? Only fifteen bits!”

“No, thank you.” I took my keys to the door before sitting down and trying all three.

First key? Nope.

Second? Nope.

Third? Of course; third time’s the charm.

I thought that the regular robot ponies were something, but somehow they integrated a lab coat design and a spiky white mane into the next robot pony. It was quite something. He was surrounded by a bunch of bubbling, glowing liquids and various colored smokes. Papers were strewn about with some technical looking drawings, but I couldn’t observe them any more closely before the robot’s hoof peeled back. It was holding something that looked like my laser glued together with a small terminal screen and a toaster.

“Do you mind if I put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber?”

“Yes, I mind!” That definitely sounded like something I didn’t want to happen.

“But, child, are you aware the by putting my quantum harmonizer and your photonic resonation chamber together that we will be able to create a parabolic destabilization of the fission singularity, therefore--“

I could still hear the scientist talking about things I’d never understand as I closed the door behind me.

That was my sixth room, and this would be my seventh. There was a terminal off to the side again with a single line of text.

- Cutie Mark Aptitude Test in progress: 75% Complete

And there was a wall.

And there was a hole in the wall.

And there was nothing else.

Now, by nothing else, I mean that I couldn’t see past the hole. Why? It was where the wall met the floor, and it was only about a pencil’s size. I got down on the floor and tried to peer through the hole, unsuccessfully I might add, as I saw nothing but darkness.

Maybe the test creators had walls that deployed when you finally had your cutie mark? A quick turn (in a far too giddy schoolfilly way) was enough to inform me that neither could be true.

So I knocked on the wall. I didn't get any sort of response.

Well… I had nothing better to do…

There was a lot of sizzling, grinding and popping as I carved out a buck-sized hole from the wall, courtesy of my laser gun. With a hefty shove, the section popped out and I entered a dark room. Only a terminal and the desk it sat on were there.

It had a question.

>From your point of view, who is the most important pony, or group?

- Yourself

- Him/Herself

- Themselves

- The Overmare

Answers one and four were obvious ‘NO’s. The Overmare was definitely not the most important pony in the Stable. If she was gone, the Stable would still stand, but with anyone else gone, it would start falling apart. I, at the moment, was the only pony the Stable could afford to lose, so I wasn’t the most important. As for the last two options, I believed that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. I selected ‘Themselves’.

>CONGRATULATIONS! You have completed the C.A.T.! Please talk to your instructor regarding any questions you might have.

Was that it? A few rooms, and I was supposed to have my cutie mark? I turned to check and see if it was there.

It wasn’t. There just wasn’t anything there. There wasn’t anything on the other side, either.

I hung my head and walked back through the test rooms, seeing robots about as dead as I felt.

I could feel them staring at me as I came back into the room. There were whispers... ‘Did he finish the test?’, ‘Why doesn’t he have his cutie mark? The rest of us did...’, ‘Maybe he’s not really a pony.’

I had to sit there and listen as Mr. Ed listed off each of the other ponies’ new jobs. When I got to him, he gasped audibly.

“I finished the test,” I choked out. “I did everything. It even told me at the end that I completed it, but... I just don’t know what went wrong.”

He pushed some air out of his mouth, causing his cheeks to flop. “I have no idea what this is supposed to mean.”

I stood there for a few seconds in silence.

“What do I do now?”

He sighed heavily and motioned for me to leave. I was in the way of the other, cutie marked, ponies. “I’m really not sure what to think about it. You’re going to have to go talk to the Overmare.”

That didn’t sound good at all...

I sighed and made for the door. Their whispers and stares hurt. They were all acting like I was a freak--

“Odd! Odd Job!” Robin was running towards me with a huge smile on her face. She gave a little hop into the air and skidded a short distance on the floor towards me, spinning at the last second to nearly shove her flank in my face. “I finally got my cutie mark! Isn’t it great?”

“Yes, it’s very nice.” I hadn’t even bothered to look.

“Odd, is there something wro--” She saw it. She saw... Nothing. “You... You didn’t get your cutie mark?”

I looked up at her. She looked... Afraid. Confused, even. She had nothing to say to me.

Neither did I as she walked away.

I remember returning to my mother and father at home. Both of them looked shocked. Both of them said that they understood that I was upset. They tried consoling me, but it didn’t work. I knew that they were just trying to cheer me up, but that I knew just made it impossible for them to do so.

I remember crawling over to my bed.

I remember crying myself asleep.





I went to The Overmare's Office the next day. She was just as confused about my blank flank as I was (and she looked just as horrified as everyone else).

"Well, Odd Job, your situation is quite unique. We’ve never had a single, adult, pony come through the C.A.T. without a cutie mark.”

As she said 'here', she levitated a book out of and onto her desk. 'Cutie Marks and Their Celestial Meaning' by Q. T. Marcs.

"Now, most cutie marks have broader meanings than they seem to. For example," The pages flipped magically, stopping at an image of a slightly curled scroll. "A scroll could suggest several affinities: accounting, law, writing, the list goes on. There are a few ponies with unique marks, such as Celestia or Luna." She shut the book and returned it to its drawer. "If you have a cutie mark, and it just happens to match the color of your flank, that would just be... Well, odd. Did you notice a flash or some sort of noise when you finished the test?”

“Other than the screen telling me that I was done? No.”

“Well, as Overmare of Stable Seventy-Five, I can’t allow such a thing to happen.” She walked closer to me and wrapped a hoof around my shoulder. “I’ll make sure you get a cutie mark, Odd. But while you don’t have one, just remember that it’s not a bad thing. Being blank-flanked just means that you have the opportunity to do whatever you want.”

"But that’s not how the Stable works...”

"That may be true, but just because you don’t have a cutie mark doesn’t mean you’re not good at anything. You’ll still have a job to do; you'll just do a little of everything."

That day, she gave me hope. I went into the test believing it was a fluke, anyway. Maybe, just maybe, working outside of a test would get me my cutie mark.

Three years later, there I stood in the PipBuck Technician Center, still as blank-flanked as I was before..

I had caught a bunch of shit for being a blank flank. Ponies like Snap, Crackle, and Pop never gave up a chance to rub it in my face. Other ponies never looked at me normally. And I’d heard it all: spy, alien, monster...

Working as the Overmare suggested hadn’t helped at all, and I was getting sick of it. I was just given odd jobs like fixing faucets or cleaning the floors. I had literally done every job in the Stable by now, even the really obscure ones. I helped Chance’s father with a pregnancy at one time. At another, I was sent into the Stable’s reactor core to replace a fuel cell. Someone sent me to fix a toaster, even. A toaster! I didn’t even know that the ones the Stable had could break! But you know what sucked the most? Those obscure jobs were only one-time things. They were interesting until the exact point I was called to the Overmare’s office and forced to accept another job that someone else was too lazy to do.

That’s why I was in the PipBuck Technician Center. Mr. Phillips had called in ‘sick’. Chance had ever so casually told me over breakfast that not only had Mr. Phillips taken the time to go get checked out at the clinic, but he had also taken the time to eat breakfast with Chance’s family, play cards with Chance’s father, prove that he wasn’t sick at all, and walk all the way back to his room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck my life.

Business was incredibly slow today. It proved true that the heavy wrist computers we were given  were near indestructible. I flipped one more time through a copy of Dean’s Electronics (noticing the amount of corrections I’d made).

My PipBuck beeped for my shift to be over. I gathered up my tools, hung the ‘Out to Lunch’ sign on the door, and headed for the only place in the Stable to get food -- Haystack’s

This was probably the only thing I loved about the Stable. Haystack’s was the only place in the Stable that had more than the occasional photograph to interrupt the standard matte grey. Magical lights in all colors, foals' crayon drawings, and red cushioned benches and seats made it look beautiful. The smell of fruits, grains, and vegetables being cooked wafted through the air.. Ponies gathered here to laugh and share stories and...

And eat their marefriend’s face off.

Robin was at a table with Snap, who had apparently forgotten all about his food in favor of her.. She pulled away from him for long enough to smile and wave happily at me, urging me to join them.

...

I skulked the rest of the way to a bar seat.

"Hey, Shorty! Single hayfry, extra crispy!"

Spat, the owner of that voice, slammed his hooves down hard enough to shake me of my depressed stupor, but only for a moment.

"You look down, partner!"

Duh.

"Something I can help you with?"

No.

"You going to say anything?"

I really don't want to.

"Oh, look at Snap! Damn! I didn't know you could do that!"

I lunged at him from across the counter, but he backed up just enough to be out of reach. "Shut. The. FUCK. Up, Spat!"

"Nnnope. I can’t afford to do that."

Even though the buck meant well, I had already killed him several times in my head. I crossed my hooves in front of me to prop my chin up. Spat's smile changed from one of confidence to one of uncertainty. "What makes you think that torturing me will make me feel better?"

"It shouldn't be torturing you. Besides! There are a few colts here that you could probably get together with--"

My glare turned his mouth to stone. Not only had I lived with the blank flank jokes, but everyone in the Stable still assumed that I liked stallions. It was just another way for them to alienate me.

Spat quickly retired into the kitchen, and someone else brought me my order of hayfries. They weren't anywhere close to crispy. … I wasn't hungry anyway. I still paid though.

You'll never guess what I did next.

Go on... Guess...

I went to the infirmary. Hopefully, the only thing Robin or Snap would go there for is if he got too overzealous and actually did eat her face. As if they would notice. Chance would be there, though. We could always bitch about the day together. That always made for good fun. Hell, even if Chance wasn't there, his father could probably do something. He was a doctor, after all.

So I watched the color fade, smelled the bone marrow replacing the food, and went from hearing laughter to nothing as I walked to the place in Stable Seventy-Five that I hated the most.

Chance's dad waved to me as I entered. "What are you here for, Odd?"

"Well, doc, everything kinda sucks."

"I don't have a pill for cynicism."

For that being Chance’s dad, that actually wasn’t bad. I didn’t find it funny, but it was an improvement. "Where's Chance?"

"He's in the Science Lab."

"Alright, see you."

Before I knew it, Chance was calling my name and waving at me from another part of the Science Lab. He had been discussing something sciencey with another pony, who then went off to examine two metal tubes that were being set up.

As I approached, he spoke first.

"You look down."

"Uhuh."

"Something I can help you with?"

Oh let's see. ... No, that's illegal... That isn't, but it's really bad... That's just plain wrong... I waved my hoof dismissively. "Nothing that I want you to get dragged into."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

That is what I came here for, wasn’t it? "... It's Robin."

He gave me a puzzled look. "What about her?"

"She's dating Snap--"

"So what? It's not like you--" His eyes went dead but he forced a smile. "Oh, wow. I didn't know you liked those kinds of ponies."

"Well... It’s just, I’ve liked her for a while, but after the C.A.T., everything--"

"Odd?"

I thought that the ponies you asked for advice were supposed to hear you out first... “What?”

"Snap is a buck."

"Yes, I know that."

"And his barn door doesn't swing that way."

...

I wanted to kick him. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream and yell and shout at him about all of the things in my life that weren’t fair. I wanted to just start over. I wanted to be judged by what I did, not by some bullshit rumor that some dumbass was spreading around. I wanted to go home.

I heard Chance calling after me, saying he was sorry for whatever he said that made me upset. I wanted to (but didn’t) say that if he was sorry, he wouldn’t have trusted the word of someone that didn’t even know me.

It wasn’t fair.

I burst through the door, eliciting nothing from either my mother or Snap’s mother as the prior consoled the latter. I didn’t care though, as I charged to my room and shoved the door shut.

Why was I crying? Someone... A few... A lot of ponies were calling me gay. I didn’t have my cutie mark. So what? I knew I wasn't gay. I knew that it wasn’t that big of a deal to be blank-flanked. I knew I shouldn't let it get to me... Snap was just an asshole. I didn’t care what he said. But Spat, Robin, and Chance saying the same just...

It was at this time that my mom walked in. She said nothing until she sat down next to me.

“Odd, is something wrong?”

No... “Yes,” I sobbed again. “Yes, something is wrong.”

She waited for me to speak. So did I.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

She snorted and started to giggle. “Odd, is this about your cutie mark? I can’t believe you still let ponies get to you that easily.”

My ears flattened and I stared sheepishly at the floor while she continued.

“Odd Job, you’re a good buck. You’re one of the smartest, nicest, all-around-best ponies I know. If your friends can’t see that past the fact that you don’t have a cutie mark, you should find some new friends.” She patted my back for a few seconds and then went back to Snap’s mom.

That was probably the worst possible pep-talk I'd ever received...

I sat on my bed, moping for who knew how long, until I heard a steady *thump*, *thump*, *thump* coming from the wall of my house that was connected to Robin’s. So I went to go mope downstairs. I could still hear the thumping. I threw myself onto the couch and turned the radio on to drown out the noise. A guitar played in the background for a few seconds, and it seemed like a calm start to a good song.

Am I better off dead?
Am I better off a quitter?
They say I’m better off now
Then I ever was with her--

…

I turned the radio off and chucked it across the room, where it cracked apart.

I remember feeling bitter for the rest of the night.





I reported to the Overmare’s office the next day to receive my assignment.

She was humming happily while shifting some papers around before she saw me. “Well, hello, Odd J--!”

Then she saw me.

I knew how I looked -- haunted, sad, and lethargic. It was pathetic really, that I thought that my problems were terrible. I came to the realization the day before that there were ponies worse off than me, but that only made me feel worse as I berated myself for nearly everything I had thought before.

She blinked once or twice before silently offering me a piece of paper. It said something about a Stable-Tec division called Cryo-Tec... There was a tagline repeated throughout the flier: ‘A brighter future.’

The rest of the paper told me that I’d been recommended to take place in the project by my peers, who believed that my talents were best suited for an experiment in which I would be sent to the future to help the ‘Stable 75 of tomorrow’.

It sounded ridiculous. Were I in any other mood at the moment, I would have laughed in the Overmare’s face and walked away. But today... Today, I wanted exactly that. I wanted to escape from the Stable. I wanted to escape from the ponies that were harassing me. It would be so easy. It would be a way out...

I thanked the Overmare and went down the hall to the Science Lab, where Chance was once again looking at the metal tubes that had been built. His father and my parents were off by themselves, conversing in hushed tones. Only Chance turned to greet me.

“Odd, you look terrible!”

Thanks. “I’m okay.”

He stared at me for a while as if he didn’t believe me.

I watched some science and repair ponies moving around between the tubes. Each had a transparent sliding panel in the front and what looked like an upright couch inside. Both were stamped with a Stable-Tec logo, and beneath that, slanted text that read Cryo-Tec. Funny... They didn’t look like what I expected. Shouldn’t there have been some wibbly-wobbly time machine thingy? Where were the funny noises and flashy lights?

One pony in a lab coat came up to Chance and I, interrupting my internal rant and handing us two forms. She told us to sign in so many places that my head started to spin, but we did as asked. She took the forms and ran away.

My parents came up to me. They told me that they were proud of me. They told me that I would undoubtedly create a brighter future. My mom was crying.

“Mom?” I leaned in towards her, but she shied away. “Are you going to be okay?”

She sniffed and wiped away some tears. “Yes, I’ll be okay... But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”

I leaned in further and nuzzled her. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Just be careful, son,” said my dad.

I nodded.

Monkey Wrench came up to us and took off our PipBucks. He wished us good luck as well.

I remember lazily taking my place inside of one metal tube as Chance took the other.

I remember feeling cold until a needle injected me with something.

I remember falling asleep…





Side Note: Level Up
New Perk: What is lost...: You almost ran out of hope, but now you have something to live forward to. Your experiences have taught you greatly. +1 to Endurance.

> A Few Odd Hours
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The dog days are over.
The dog days are done.
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come..."





Something didn't feel right.

I had woken up in a standing position... But there was something soft against my back. Was I lying down? I was on my hindlegs, I knew that. I reached up to scratch my mane, but my hoof bumped against something solid.

I started to panic. I couldn't see past some... Something. Fog started to fill my vision. My breathing started to grow shorter and faster, and I looked down to check medical readings on my Pipbuck. It was gone!

I had no time to think of anything else before the door slid open.

The sneering green face of a grotesquely large pony greeted me. He wrenched me out of the pod and threw me to the ground.

A voice from a different part of the room spoke. "He... Taint?"

"No. We need... Green stuff."

I looked around, and, for a moment, thought that one was talking to a mirror, as both had the sickly green flesh and permanent sneer. But I noticed that one had on what seemed to be randomly pieced together leather, and the other had on pieces of metal and a sharp metal helmet. That one moved, pinned me down, and shouted to the other.

"Hurry, stupid!"

I could do nothing; the pony had an iron grip on my forehooves, and my rear hooves flailed uselessly against it, as did my head. "HELP!"

"Heh... You stupid too."

I certainly felt stupid! I had just taken my assignment, without thinking through anything! Some damn experiment that was totally out of my control. I didn’t even get a say in it! Did I? I didn’t know! I didn’t check. And now...

I had lived in the Stable, I had worked in the Stable, and I would die in the Stable.

And I would die in the Stable, without even a—

Chance! He was here too!

I could see his pod, but it was still closed. My small flame of hope winked out.

And I would die in the Stable.

The second green pony returned with a flask in his mouth, filled with what was undeniably 'green stuff'. It looked like poison. I struggled harder as the one who had me pinned grabbed hold of my jaw and pulled  it down, keeping it there as my legs thrashed.

I tried to speak. "Hanse!"

The one holding me down chortled. "See? He stupid too."

It did nothing to stop number two from hastily walking towards me and tilting the flask downward.

A drop hit my tongue; the rest of the green stuff started floating in place.

The flask hit the floor and shattered. "He can't! Earth pony!"

"Hanse!" I shouted again.

Chance's pod hissed and fog started to pour out. One green pony laughed hysterically and launched himself at the pod, only to be met with a bolt of anesthesia.

The rest of the green stuff fell onto the floor and started to bubble.

That... That was inside me!

I really started to panic. I was hyperventilating. I was coughing. I was crying.

There was another thud and Chance ran up to me. "Odd Job, listen. Calm down."

I stopped coughing. Thank Celestia he was okay.

"Are you okay?"

I stopped crying. "No, I'm not!" I pointed to the puddle of green that had partially disintegrated the floor. "They got some of that down my throat!"

He looked at the melted glass and tile on the floor. I could tell that he was hiding his panic. "How much?"

"A drop. But, Chance! It's eating through the floor!

He muttered something. "We have to go! They're starting to move again!"

I didn't even pause to check if they were, but I ran for the door.

"Odd, wait!"

"Are you crazy?! There's no time to wait!" I started to run off again, but he grabbed me with his magic.

"Odd, calm down! Look what's in there!"

I stopped hyperventilating. All around me - on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling - there was green, glowing sludge. I ran back to the room Chance was in.

The green ponies were stirring more noticeably.

"What are we going to do with them?"

"I'll think of something," he replied. "Go search for something that can help us."

"Like what?"

"Anything!"

I turned and headed for the nearest cabinet. There were a few folded up bardings, so I threw one on. The pockets and pouches would help with anything else I'd find.

Then I went through every desk drawer I could see. Some had bits, which I took. There was a bobby pin in one. The rest had clipboards or bottle caps or toy cars, and some gun clips, but no guns.

I was torn between upset and glad that I didn't find a gun anywhere.

I emptied out a toolbox and a medical supply box with some water inside before trying to open a door. It was locked.

I sat down and got to work, nearly nervously breaking my pin before getting the door to relent. Inside, on a rack, there were two yellow suits with masks on them. There were two bottles of something called Rad-X and a few pouches of something called Rad-Away that I took as well. I draped the two suits over my back and went to pick the safe. That lock was easier than the door's, and inside were more bits, bullets, and a rather hefty Canterlot Journal of Medicine.

I ran back to Chance.

The floor was covered in blood. The saw that Chance held was covered in blood. His face was covered in blood. It was... There was...

He looked at me and seemed surprised. "You found rad-suits? Perfect! And Rad-X! And Rad-Away!"

He came to collect some of what I had, and I backed away. He licked away some blood that had been running down his muzzle and looked at me confusedly.

"Chance! You killed them!"

"Yeahuh,” he said flatly. He took a radsuit from me and began to put it on. “It was them or us, Odd. I hope you don't mind that I chose us."

Even with that green stuff probably burning holes through me, I couldn't be sure if I minded or not, but I just... I couldn't say anything.

I emptied my barding's pockets and slipped on the radsuit. It was uncomfortable, but I wasn't dead.

Yet.

I kept the tools, and Chance kept the bits. I also gave him the Canterlot Journal of Medicine. We each had a bottle of Rad-X and water, and two Rad-Aways.

Chance popped the cap off of his Rad-X. "Take two."

I did, and then we slipped the hoods over our heads and zipped the suits shut. We walked out and headed away from the glowing green sludge.

"We're headed for the stairs leading to the Atrium," I told him. "Wouldn't more of them be in there?"

"Shit, you're right," he stopped dead in his tracks and turned in a circle nervously.

I would've followed his example, but I knew Stable Seventy-Five

"Wait here," I walked as quietly as possible up the steps and peeked my head around the corner. One green pony was walking away from me and turned to go somewhere else. Wasting no time, I went to an air duct grate that was level with the floor. I threw my hood off, pulled out a screwdriver, and managed to take off each screw before I heard the pony coming back.

Chance's eyes went wide as he saw me come back down the stairs. "What are you doing?!"

I gulped down a bit of orangey Rad-Away before answering. "I'm getting us out of here. We'll be going through an air duct. Follow me as soon as I go."

I swiveled my ears towards the upstairs hallway. That pony was walking back with large, lumbering steps. It seemed like forever before I heard him turn back. I slipped my hood on again and went for the grate, setting it down as gently and quietly as I could before crawling in. Chance followed, levitating his bloody saw in front of him.

Chance's magic cast a glow that was just enough for me to see by, although, I was debating over whether or not I wanted to see. The metal was covered in rust spots that looked like mold. It was riddled with holes, which didn’t make sense, seeing as these vents were built into solid concrete. To top it all off, every dust mote that flew by glowed green. It was making me think that every green thing was out to get us.

We were coming up to a turn when I heard a shout.

"Who moved grate?!"

"Not me!"

"There are ponies, get them!"

"Hurry!" Chance hissed.

I turned right and saw another grate, one which was connected to the PipBuck technician center. I made a fair amount of noise undoing my hood and getting to a screwdriver, but I couldn't see any green ponies.

The last screw came undone and the grate fell to the floor with a clang.

"Back up! Back up!"

Chance had before I even spoke, and I followed him. We waited for a few seconds before I zipped up my hood and crawled forward.

A metal sphere came flying into the duct. I swatted it back out of the grate. There was a loud bang as something splattered into the duct, followed by what sounded like rain.

We sat in shock for another few seconds before I crawled forward again.

The ceiling was raining blood, the majority of the walls were covered in blood, and pieces of leather and green pony were scattered across the room. I retched, but nothing came out.

... Did I just kill a pony? No, no, I didn't! That thing might have looked like a pony, but I'd be damned if it actually was!

Real dead ponies were like what I saw after opening one of the cabinets. No... No, I...

"Chance!" I backed away from the rotted corpse and felt something squish beneath my hooves. Don't look down, don't look down... Blood spattered from above onto my suit. "Could you check if he has anything on him?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Anything specific?"

"Keys," I headed for the portion of the room without blood in it. "Bobby pins, water—"

"A PipBuck?" There was a thump and he started to walk towards me.

I opened a desk drawer and found more bottle caps and gun clips, but nothing useful.

"Ugh! How do you take one of these off?!"

"One of what--"

He was cutting the rotted hoof away from the PipBuck with his blood covered bonesaw, licking away at his blood covered muzzle while looking frustratedly out from behind his blood covered face plate.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I bellowed.

"What?"

"You're walking around cutting ponies apart like it's—"

"My job?"

"Chance!" I swatted the PipBuck out of his magical grip. "Doesn't any of this bother you? Even a little bit?"

He didn't answer me.

"It's not right!"

"It's not wrong."

"That doesn't matter! It's. Not. Right!"

Nothing.

I looked around again and saw what was once Monkey Wrench’s desk, which wasn’t spattered with blood. The lock yielded to me and inside was the supply cabinet key. Inside of the supply cabinet was a terminal uplink cable and a key that would unlock the PipBuck.

With a click, the remaining rotten hoof inside fell to the floor and nearly liquified.

"Now we have to get out of here," Chance looked at me. There was no trace of fear, no trace of anything. He seemed completely fine.

That served only to unnerve me further.

I turned out of the room and headed for the Overmare's Office. From there, it was a straight shot through Security to the Stable door.

We encountered nothing else on our way there, which had allowed my mind to wander.

I didn't want to talk about it; the blood, the death, the decay, I really didn't want to talk about it, so my mind did the work instead.

I'd seen blood before. Ponies got scraped, ponies got cut, but ponies I knew never bled to death or had their blood paint almost an entire room. Ponies I knew cleaned blood away and spat it out, donated it to give life and treated it like the plague at any other time. Chance's being a doctor was no excuse, but that thought was shoved in the very back of my mind.

I'd seen death before. Ponies die. They die of old age or heart conditions, not limb-tearing explosions or slit necks. What would happen to those green ponies? They would just sit there and rot, wouldn't they? Just like the stallion...

That was what I hadn't seen before — decay. I'd seen age and rust, but they were not the same. Age was graceful, rust was removable, decay was... No, is permanent. It is not graceful, it is not removable...

It's horrible.

I stopped before the large door labeled as the Overmare's Office. I couldn't hear anything moving inside, but Chance went through first, his saw levitated in front of him just in case.

He yelled and I ran in, coming face to face with an abnormally large unicorn. The horn was as long as my leg and murderously sharp. The eyes glowed an ungodly bright green. A dark green pattern swirled around on its black coat and wings--

Wings?

It was an alicorn.

It regarded me coolly before folding away its wings and taking a place next to the Security door. A green bubble magicked into life around it.

I turned to Chance.

"That thing was going to attack me."

"Thing? That thing is an alicorn, and it deserves your respect."

"You can't be serious..."

"But you remember Celestia and Luna, right? They were alicorns too. They all have to be related somehow..." I approached the alicorn once more. Its eyes glowed brighter as it looked at me.

For a few seconds, we stood there, staring at each other.

It then narrowed its eyes and looked like it was about to speak, but it gently shook its head and went to open the door instead.

I walked out into Security; Chance and the alicorn followed. From nooks in the high-vaulted ceiling, two more alicorns flew in to flank us. The rest of Security’s vast living area was thronged with several more green ponies, who all seemed very upset to see us. Chance began to panic. A few started charging towards us, brandishing sharp bits of metal and guns and bigger guns mounted on the sides of saddles.

A bubble of green magic came to life around us. Some green ponies stopped immediately and got trampled. Some didn't stop, but were flung backwards as they collided with the magic. They were impaled or shot as each one flung or fired in fear. Each pony that got hit attacked anypony in range, and soon enough, Security was host to a riotous, writhing mass of green and grey and red.

Each alicorn stomped synchronously, and the still living green ponies screamed in pain in response.

A green pony wearing a Security mask rose above the rest. "No! He no taint!"

The alicorn behind us turned to him, and his face scrunched up even more.

"No! Other one!"

It turned to look at Chance, then me, then back to the green pony.

"Still no fair! He my pony! Leave him!" He hefted up a large metal tube.

I could swear a grin crossed over the alicorn's muzzle.

The green pony shot the contents of the metal tube at us. The other ponies ducked, Chance ducked, but I just watched whatever it was fly through the air and reach the magic bubble. It exploded. Some ponies were torn apart, and others taken out by the flying limbs. Inside of the bubble, we were okay.

The rioter started throwing a fit, and the other ponies scurried away. Some of them collided into the shield and begged to be let in. I could see why; the rioter was stomping another pony to death in the middle of the crowd.

We pushed our way through the chaos.

The Stable door hissed and slid open before us, just as quietly as last time.

Several skeletons were lying in front of us. Others were hung on shackles or inside of cages. Sacks of gore filled netting were strewn about. One normal pony was hogtied, gagged, and being carried into the Stable by two green ponies. She looked at me in a mixture of surprise, sadness, and anger.

I remember thinking of how these green things were like ponies.

I remember that one of them tried to change me.

I remember how it all came together.

"No..." I said, as they marched onwards.

The alicorns did the same and filed one by one ahead of us up the stairs. Chance and I were levitated up behind them.

The Stable door slid shut behind her.

I kicked, I struggled, I screamed. "No! No! Let me go! Let me help her! I--!"

He will take longer than we expected.

He is resilient.

She will call him if he is needed.

"No! Let me go!"

The alicorns kept moving. I saw my town — destroyed, fallen, dead — all around me.

Too many memories...

"NO!"

They set Chance and I down. My mind went blank. It was becoming numb.

Odd Job!

The future needs...

Odd Job!

Hope...

"Odd Job!"

You'll do...

Everything...





"Odd!"

Chance slapped me. I opened my eyes.

"We have to go! Now!"

I shook myself awake and followed Chance as he ran.

"Where are they?"

"Behind us!"

Two green ponies, lead by the one in the riot mask, were gaining up on us. That one held something sharp and made of metal, another was firing a pistol, and the third was throwing more of those explosive, metal spheres.

"We'll never lose them with these suits on!"

"We can't take off the suits, Odd! They'll get to us if we try!"

There was an explosion far to my right. "They'll get to us anyway!"

"It's over!" The one with the metal thing shouted and jumped on top of me. My breath escaped me and my chest hurt. I was glad that my face was in the ground, so I couldn't see when—

When Chance cut its jugular and it bled all over my radsuit.

"Take the weapon!"

The green pony slumped off of me as it finally died. I unzipped my hood and took the metal weapon in my jaws.

I saw the pistol-holding one reloading. The other threw another ball at me. I swung as hard as I could, heard the ping as I connected, and heard a gurgled 'help' after the ball exploded right in front of the pony's muzzle.

Chance had... Permanently prevented the last pony from being able to reload. I turned away as he scavenged them.

All I could see was brown. Everything I saw was dead. Those Wastes reeked of death.

What happened?

There was no doubt that this was Equestria, that I just ran from my town. The houses might have been destroyed and everything was dead, but I grew up here.

So... What happened?

Where was the sun? Why were there so many clouds? Why were all of the trees and bushes dead? Why did everything look so terrible?

"What is this place?" Chance asked.

"It's a Wasteland..."





We walked silently to... Somewhere else. We didn't care where, as long as it wasn't towards the Stable — towards the town.

Chance would stop me once or twice and he would run off to search something. Once, he found a pistol, but it looked strange. Rather than being slick and sleek, it was boxy and... Just odd, really. Regardless, I pocketed it.

Another time, he found some gun clips. I said they were dead weight without a gun. He said we were dead weight without a gun, and when we found one, dead weight without ammunition.

This time, he found a few dead ponies. I could tell by the sounds that were made as he took from them (and a shout of 'Cooperate, you dead son of a bitch!').

Death... Deadly... Dead, dead, dead...

He came back with two saddlebags that looked rather full.

"Let's see what we've got here," he said, plopping a bag in front of me.

In his, Chance found some scraps of metal, Med-X, something labled 'Psycho', a copy of Guns and Bullets, and some guns, but no bullets. Even what he picked up before wasn't the right ammunition. Then again, how he thought gun clips would fit into a revolving pistol was beyond me.

In my (I guess it was mine now...) bag, there were some pencils, a few leafs of what could be considered paper, a pale, shiny sphere that didn't look explosive, a compass, and a map.

I unfolded it and spread it out on a nearby rock.

The first thing I noticed was the cog shape near the top It was marked with a 75 and a caption that read 'DANGER!: Imp nest!'. To the south was a dark box labled 'Safehouse — remember to reinforce and lock'. Even further south was 'Appleloosa' - (the rest was blotted out). Directly east of Stable 75 was a group of cities: Canterlot, Zebratown, and Glyphmark. Glyphmark was the only one that didn’t come with a warning of ‘Pink Contamination’.

Chance chuckled. "One hell of a Safehouse, huh? I think we should head there first. I don’t think it’s going to be of use to them anymore."

"If there's a risk that it's not locked and reinforced., I don't want to stay there for too long." I tapped a hoof on square that represented Canterlot. “What do you think the ‘Pink Contamination’ is?”

“Whatever it is, I’d prefer heading somewhere that doesn’t have an ominous caption on it. That’s just asking for trouble.”

“‘Remember to lock and reinforce’ isn’t ominous enough for you?”

“Which way is south?” he asked, annoyed.

I took out the compass and waited a minute for it to settle. It turned out that we were already headed south.

He magicked everything into the saddlebags and handed me mine. "Lead the way."

I wanted to say that the hour-long journey was full of enlightenment and adventure, but it wasn't. I was scared of everything that moved. I forgot to check the compass and realized that we had been heading west for a long time. I didn’t realize it until Chance had stopped dead in his tracks and pointed out something on the cliffs ahead of us. The promontory where Canterlot should have been was just a big pink cloud, almost like the entire city was enveloped in a wad of cotton candy. The warning on the map combined with my comparison sent shivers down my spine. I turned and headed south once more.

I had no idea what I was doing, but eventually, we ended up at some rusty metal shack. The walls were not reinforced and the door was not locked. I it open. Aside from some large roaches scuttling away, there was nothing alive, or formerly alive, inside.

The holes in the ceiling allowed in enough light to see by. There was a refrigerator, a sink, two beds, a workbench, two desks, and two terminals. Chance stripped off his bags and suit and headed for the bed, which I could understand. I was tired too, but I instead headed for the glowing terminal.

It was in working condition, but that didn't explain why it looked so old. It was the exact kind of terminal used in the Stable, but it looked terrible. Something else, there was a compartment with an antenna coming out of it screwed into the back. Odd... I turned it around and unscrewed the compartment. Inside was a ball of something that looked like white clay connected to some wires in the back of the terminal.

What the hell? I knew some stupid ponies, but none that were smart enough to know how to take something apart, nearly ruin it, and put it back together.

I set the compartment on the floor, wiped the clay off the wires, and put them back together.

The terminal didn't ask me for a password, but it did tell me that there weren't any files. I rummaged through my bags and got the PipBuck and the uplink cable. The PipBuck flared to life as it rebooted with help from the terminal.

With that done, I emptied out our saddlebags and the pockets on our radsuits. Chance apparently had two of the same make of guns in his bag — scoped revolving pistols. Surprisingly, gun maintenance was standard for me. Even with only ten guns in the Stable, I needed to ensure that they were always in working condition. I went into some sort of trance, pulling apart the older looking pistol and keeping only the good parts, leaving some rusty old screws and empty bullet casings for whoever wanted them.

The gun went to Chance's bag, the spare parts to mine. I also put the magazine and book, drugs, some dirty water (it was the only water in the fridge) and packaged foods from the fridge and cabinets, our bits, the extra gun clips, explosive spheres, and his folded up radsuit  into his bags. In mine were our tools, the boxy pistol, some food and water, my radsuit, the map, and the odd, shiny sphere.

The PipBuck beeped, which meant it was done. I put it on, and a few things happened.

First, it mentioned my name. Second, it kindly informed me that my radiation level was only at three rads, and that I was injury free. Third, it listed everything that was in my saddlebags. Lastly, it pinged and a map showed up, with locations mapped out and Appleloosa marked as my destination.

I checked the inventory under 'Misc.'. Bobby pins, hammer, scrap metal, screwdriver, wrench... And a memory orb? It only could have been that pale, shiny sphere. How could it hold memories? I didn't see anything in there—

A glowing green screen appeared in my vision.

>Welcome to the Eyes Forward Sparkle, Stable-Tec's hostility detection algorithm!
>Hostiles will be highlighted in red; non-hostiles in green.

>One non-hostile detected
>WARNING! Three hostiles detected!

"Fuck!"

I went rigid at the sound of a new voice. It was coming from outside. I turned quickly, seeing a green bar denoting Chance and three slowly moving red bars adorning the wall.

"Do ya think somethin' killed 'em?"

"No, ya idjit! They're asleep!"

A third voice spoke. "Then why're we yellin'?!"

I ran over to Chance and woke him up. "There are ponies outside!" I hissed.

He shook his head to wake himself. "How many?"

"Three."

He rushed to his saddlebag and took out one of the explosive spheres. "When they open the door, I'll throw this. Then you shut it."

I nodded and took position by the hinged side of the door. Chance crouched down behind a bed. No sooner did the door creak open. Light flooded the spot where Chance was hiding, but all I could see was one of his green eyes.

"Nopony's here!"

There was a ping and Chance's magic threw the sphere out the door. I put all of my weight on keeping it shut.

"Grenade!"

I was flung backwards as the sph— grenade exploded. The door nearly came off its hinges, Chance was almost, and the wall was, impaled with loose junk and scrap metal, but we were fine.

There was a moaning from outside.

I pushed past the door and came upon a terrible sight.

There were two bloody bodies blown completely apart, and one partially dismembered and with half a face missing. He was wearing some sort of armor with pieces of metal haphazardly attached. There were cut off hooves hanging from different places, and they weren't his.

Chance walked up to the dying buck. "What were you doing, coming to attack us?"

"Livin'..." he coughed up some blood. "I was doin' a damn good job 'till I met you fuckers." He coughed again. "Please... Kill me..."

"What. Were. You. Doing?"

"Slavin', I guess... Papa pays well," he coughed again, turning brown dirt red. "Can ya kill me now?"

"I'm not familiar with anyone named Papa. Where can I find him?"

"Fer fuck's sake," he breathed in. It sounded like a gurgle. "Aa... Aa... Puhl."

His eyes clouded over.

I looked between the dead buck and Chance several times. "You... Why didn't you kill him?"

Chance levitated up a bloody rifle and calmly inspected it. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

"What?"

He dipped the gun in a puddle of filthy water before wiping it off with a tattered piece of (relatively) clean cloth from the ponies he'd killed. "Back in the Stable, you were mortified when I killed those monsters. Here, you're upset that I didn't kill a pony?"

"This is different! It would have been mercy!"

"No, Odd! It wouldn't have been!" He pointed at the dead buck with the muzzle of the rifle. "He was going to turn us into slaves!"

"But if you were dying, would you—"

"Odd, if I ever become that fucked up, I'd deserve a slow death."

He silently turned back to scavenging the dead ponies.

Did ponies who traded slaves really deserve to die? Could a slow death by bleeding out really be their only fate? They were ponies, but they treated other ponies like livestock... And Appleloosa was home to their leader. We were heading there soon enough.

I voiced my concern as we headed out. Chance's reply? "As long as we don't mess around with anypony, we should be fine."

"So you want to walk into a town that deals with slaves? Just after three ponies tried to make us slaves?"

"No, Odd, I don't want to. I don't like the fact that they deal with slaves, but we need to know what happened," he gestured to the sick and brown around us. "We need food, we need water, we need guns and bullets, and we need shelter."

"We'll need money for all of that."

"We have bits," he shrugged.

We kept walking.

Some things just didn't make sense to me. It was silent now, and I could think them through.

I just helped Chance murder three ponies. I just asked Chance to kill one of them out of mercy. It didn't make any sense. I didn't make any sense. If I had been in Chance's position, what would I have done? Would I really have killed that buck? Would I really haven't killed the Imps?

I just sat back and watched Chance take whatever they had and pocket it. I didn't do anything. I was struck dumb. What happened to me? Why didn't I do anything? What—

My PipBuck beeped and displayed some text.

>DJ Pon-3 Radio signal acquired; tuning in.

"... Cloudy with a chance of gunfire and bloody dismemberment! Tune in later for our five day forecast!

Now, for Colt Porter, who's here to remind you all of the laws of the Wasteland."

A trumpet started blaring from the PipBuck's speaker. I bent over to turn it down.

There was a loud boom and a cloud of dirt shot out of the ground next to me.

"Get down!" we said simultaneously.

We threw ourselves down behind a large rock as two more shots rang out. After a moment of silence, I dared to move. As soon as I had moved far enough to see past the boulder -- where there was only the rotten remains of an old chapel -- another bullet slammed into it and ricocheted off into the dirt.

“You fucking ponies never let me get my way!” The voice sounded strange... Exotic seemed fitting. It was deep and had a cadence to it that not many voices had. It also sounded slightly slurred, as if the speaker was drunk. “Kick me out of Oasis, you may, but now you’ll forever rue the day!”

Two more shots rang out, boring themselves into the dirt behind us.

“Come on out and play, my friends! By my hoof or the Waste’s, you’ll still meet your ends!”

“Who the hell is shooting at us?” hissed Chance.

“How should I know?”

Well, whomever it was, they seemed like quite the shot. Assuming he was drunk, and disregarding the fact that he hadn’t hit us yet, his shooting was still very accurate. In fact, as I thought about this, he sent three more bullets our way. They each shot up a plume of dust within two feet of each other.

Maybe, if he kept wasting his bullets on us, we could just wait it out.

“I can wait as long as you! I’ve nothing better to do!”

There were no more shots. The dust had settled down. The only thing still making noise was my PipBuck, which was still softly playing the song on the radio.

“Good authors too, who once knew better words, 
now only use four-letter words
writing prose. 
Anything goes!”

“Shit, Odd, what are we going to do?”

“Uh... Uhm...” Think! Thinkthinkthink! “He’s been aiming for my side of the rock, hasn’t he?”

Chance nodded.

I moved to the other side of the rock and looked around. There were several other rocks, not quite as large as this one, but large enough, scattered about. I pointed them out to him.

“If he’s still aiming for my side, maybe we’ll be able to get over to one of those rocks before he can shoot us.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No,” I said. “I’m desperate.” His ears flicked backwards in response. I could tell he didn’t like where I was going with this. “If we don’t do something, he’ll just wait us out and this Wasteland will kill us instead.”

He bowed his head and sighed. “You’re right. … I’m ready when you are.”

I trotted in front of him, with my muscles tense, ready to sprint to the next rock. My heart was beating quickly, betraying the unbelievable sense of calm that I was feeling. I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.

…
…
…

“Go!”

I rushed forward and dived behind cover, kicking up a plume of dust. Chance skidded to a stop beside me. We were both panting hard.

“How many times are we going to do this?” he coughed.

“As many times as it takes to get to safety,” I answered.

To be honest, I had expected the shooter to... Well... Shoot more. I briefly hoped that he had fallen asleep or something, and I dared poke my head out from cover only to find my beliefs as shattered as the newly shot rock.

“We’re fucked,” I could hear Chance whispering. “We are so fucked.”

“No,” I could see a plan coming together. “No, we’re not.” I extended my hoof out to Chance. “Give me your rifle and the pistol.”

“You’re not going to try and shoot him from here, are you?”

“No,” I said. Once more, his ears went back. Though he eventually relented, I knew he knew what I was thinking, and that he didn’t like it.

“Just be careful, Odd,” he pleaded.

“Of course.” I placed the pistol in my my saddlebag just on top of the tool bag. The flap was left unstrapped for easy access. I also worked the rifle around until I could get it to stay in my mouth. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t matter as long as I was running towards the chapel. “Just wait a few seconds for me to give the signal.”

He nodded.

I jumped out from behind the rock and ran forward, using my tongue to pull the rifle’s trigger. It was damn loud, but not loud enough to stop me from continuing--

I wasn’t moving.

A green screen appeared in my vision.

>Welcome to the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell (S.A.T.S.)! Please select your target and the amount of shots you wish to fire.

Everything was still. I tried looking around, but instead of me turning my neck or moving my eyes, my vision somehow zoomed in on a sort of striped pony. Above him was the word ‘Drifter’, and scattered around his body were boxes full of percentages. I tried looking around again, but just ended up highlighting his right forehoof in a more pronounced green.

This didn’t make any sense! How could I see that pony from so far away? Why couldn’t I move? Why was everything green? All I wanted to do was shoot the gun and keep running--

>Shot queued: Right Foreleg
>2 More shots available

What? I didn’t want to shoot him in the leg! I didn’t want to shoot him, period!

>Shot unqueued
>Terminating S.A.T.S. program

Then everything went to hell.

… For me at least.

The striped pony continued taking potshots at me as I blindly ran forward while periodically firing the rifle. I shouted out a garbled “Run!”, and hopefully Chance started running towards the chapel also.

Some short while later in my frenzied panicking, the rifle clicked on an empty chamber. I threw it in my saddlebag and withdrew the scoped pistol. I already felt slightly more comfortable, as I could actually see what I was doing and still have the gun held comfortably in my mouth. The comfort was short lived as I realized that the gunpony was getting closer and closer to hitting me with every shot.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chance taking cover behind a sign that read “Harmony Church”. I dived behind cover next to him.

“Odd, you’re insane!” Three more shots bored their way through the sign, thankfully thudding into the dirt. “Give me the gun!”

He wrenched the pistol out of my jaw and ran a short distance to the entrance of the church.

Yeah, I’m crazy.

Then again, I charged after him. Maybe he was right.

Behind a shout of surprise and three loud shots of the gunpony’s gun, I heard a slightly quieter six shots from Chance’s pistol. When I got in the room, the striped pony jumped off a rotted balcony and started running at Chance, who was staggering for some reason.

I rushed forward and tackled the pony to the ground. I didn’t expect in the least that he’d roll over so smoothly and throw me against the room. Before I could right myself, he was on top of me. He reared, and I rolled away, expecting him to bring his hooves down at me. Instead, I looked up and saw him running back towards Chance.

I charged at him once more with my head lowered. I connected, and we went down in a tumble of flying hooves. I swung blindly with my right leg and felt my hoof contact something. Immediately after, I swung with my left hoof, and there was a loud crack and a sharp yelp. He turned around and thrust his rear hooves in my face, sending me sprawling against the floor.

“You ponies are such a blight.” He was walking towards me now. “Now I’ll end this stupid fight!”

He lunged at me. I saw something flit between me and him. I felt a weak thud, a slight struggle against me, and something wet and warm.

I freaked out and started running around the room, trying in vain to shake the pony’s blood off of me. Sweet Celestia, it was still warm. And it felt like it was getting hotter-- hot enough to burn through my skin. And it was everywhere!

“Odd! Get your ass over here and help me up!”

I approached Chance, who was still on the ground. He was floating his damned bloody saw towards himself. He staggered while getting up, revealing a hole through his hoof.

I pulled him up and put his hoof on my shoulder. There was a tearing sound. I dared to look. What greeted me was Chance’s magic pulling a piece of cloth extremely tight around his leg above the wound.

“Go get what you can from him and come on,” he said, keeping his weight off of the injured hoof. “I don’t want this on me for too long.”

My eyes flashed over to the pony’s rifle. Nearby were a few loose bullets for it. Past that was the empty scoped pistol. I gathered all three up as quickly as I could. I didn’t even care that the rifle didn’t fit in either of our saddlebags. I was just thinking about how glad I was to be leaving this place -- Harmony Church.

Harmony my ass.





The rest of our journey went off without a hitch, which was good, considering all of the ammo for our weapons -- or the ones we knew that worked -- was either gone or loose in our saddlebags. That, and Chance had a tourniquet on. His hoof was starting to turn blue.

My PipBuck beeped and announced that we’d arrived in Appleloosa. We weren’t in the city yet, though. All that you could see was a gap in a long wall of sheet metal and barbed wire. In the gap were two rough-looking guards. The leaner one was aiming a gun at us as we approached. The heavier one approached us.

“Turn around,” he said. “Appleloosa isn’t a hospital. Only ponies on Slaver business get in, and I get to decide what’s Slaver business.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” shouted Chance. “I’m going to lose my hoof if there isn’t anypony in here that can help me!”

“That’s not my problem!” he shouted back. “Now get the fuck out or Twitch back there’ll shoot!”

In what wasn’t one of my brighter ideas, I moved towards the pony. However, it seemed he was now between us and Twitch, effectively cancelling his threat.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a little bitchy from getting shot.”

Both of their eyes widened. Chance would probably have hit me, were it not for me supporting his injured hoof. The pony looked amused. I guessed that was a good start.

“We don’t want any trouble, okay? We’ll do whatever we need to get in.”

I heard Twitch spit out his gun and start mocking me. “You hear that, Kvetch? We don’t want any trouble! We just want to get in!” He guffawed. “We’ll do anything to get inside!”

Kvetch laughed as well. “Yeah, I heard! If only I had a cap for every time I’ve heard that!” His laughter quickly died out, only to be replaced by a glint in his eye. “Say, that’s not a bad idea... Pay me for everypony who’s said that to me, and I’ll let you in.”

“How much will that be?”

He shrugged. “Five hundred caps, just about.”

Chance whispered in my ear. “Do you have any idea what a cap is?”

“No,” I whispered back. “Maybe that’s what they call bits?”

He pulled off as best a shrug he could before delving into his saddlebags. He pulled out a little tied-off sack of bits. Right now, I didn’t care where they came from. I was just glad they were there.

“Is this enough?” I asked him.

He took the bag from Chance and untied it. His eyebrow arched up. “Bits?” He took one out and bit into it, which easily bent the metal. He spat it back into the bag. “Well, I’ll be. They’re real gold. Too bad that isn’t worth shit anymore.” He threw the bag over his shoulder, spreading its contents all across the ground.

“What?! You just said those were real gold!”

“Didn’t you hear me, blank flank? Gold isn’t worth shit any more! Did you two just crawl out of a Stable or something?”

I fought between punching him in the face for the comment and being frightened that he could judge us (correctly) so easily. In the end, all I ended up doing was going rigid.

A grin spread over Kvetch’s face. “Oh, that’s rich! And here I thought you took that PipBuck off of some other sucker. How the hell did you end up here if Two’s in lockdown?”

“We’re not from Stable Two...” I answered. “We’re from Seventy-Five.”

It was dead silent. He cocked his head and looked at me like I was crazy.

“Ghosts, then?”

“... No.”

He looked over his shoulder at his companion. “Twitch, does this make any sense to you?”

“Nope.”

Kvetch put a hoof to his head. “You know what? Just go, okay? Let the guards inside kill you and just leave me alone.” His face lit up for a second and he looked behind us. “Blade! It’s about time you got back here! How’d it go?”

I turned around to see a seedy-looking grey unicorn stallion approaching us. Following him were two ponies: one white mare and one blue colt, both wearing things around their necks. They walked with their heads down, looking... defeated.

The stallion chuckled. “Oh, it was great! And eh, between you and me, this one’s got one hell of a plot, if you catch my drift.”

Kvetch smiled wide. “I’ll see about that. Come here and we’ll get you paid for these two.”

“Get a move on, runt!” Blade turned around and kicked the colt forward. He whimpered and began to cry.

The mare rounded on him. “You can’t do that to my son!”

“Oh, shut up, bitch. There are no rules in the Wasteland. I can do whatever I want.”

“No!” She screamed. “No you can’t! You can’t treat him like that!” She reared up and struck out with a hoof, hitting Blade across the cheek. She then went further, but choked herself on Blade’s magic, which he had placed around her throat.

He walked forward and shoved her to the ground. “She’s a screamer, too.” He leaned over and got close to her ear. “I’m not losing money because I have to kill you, bitch. Now shut up and go save the colt you care so much about before he gets killed.”

Her defeated look had worsened, despite my belief of that being impossible. She walked stiffly over to her son and nudged him forward. They moved off together, both looking utterly miserable.

I followed behind them. I couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. I had just watched them be abused, and I did nothing! I didn’t stop Kvetch, I didn’t stop Blade, I didn’t help either one of them; I just sat there and watched!

What the fuck was wrong with me?

“I’m getting out of here!”

I looked up and noticed a buck, who was also wearing one of those things around his neck, charging towards us. No one seemed particularly interested in him.

Then there was a popping sound. His head flew through the air and landed before me.

Kvetch shouted from behind me. “Damnit, Forty! I swear, if you let that happen again, you’ll be the one in a fucking collar!”

A pony leaning against a car further inside shouted back. “Go fuck yourself, Kvetch! You care more, you should do more to stop ‘em from runnin’!”

Kvetch growled and blew past us, knocking aside the mare and colt, and continuing on to Forty. They tumbled to the ground and were soon involved in a hoof-fight.

The colt looked to the dead buck’s body and back to me before starting to cry. His mother tried to console him, but began crying as well.

Chance kicked the buck’s head -- which I had, to my horror, somehow forgotten about -- away from my hooves.

“Welcome to Appleloosa...”





Side Note: Level Up
New Perk: ... Can never be saved: The Wasteland is tearing you apart, but you shrug it aside and keep on living. +10% to Damage Resistance

> The Odd Pony Out
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Pinch me.
Pinch me.
'Cause I'm still... Asleep.
Please, God, tell me...
That I'm still asleep."





Kvetch returned from his fight with Forty and began to count out 'caps', whatever they were, for Blade's payment. The number approached five-hundred. I was stunned to see that life had a finite price for the two of them.

Then again, they were Slavers. They put explosives around ponies' necks in order to keep them contained. They didn't even care enough to stop a pony from running away, knowing the runaway would die before making it outside the town's wall. They treated their ponies like... Like...

Like slaves.

The sympathy I had for the three we had killed vanished entirely, as did any amount of comfort I still had in being near 'civilization'.

I turned to Chance. "Let's go. I don't like it here."

He looked around at the dead buck, the crying mare and colt, and the beaten, bloody Forty. "Neither do I."

I reluctantly followed him, keeping his still-bandaged hoof on my shoulder, as he walked by the two crying ponies.

I couldn't even bring myself to say hello to them. I just couldn't say anything. They'd hate me. They'd be angry at me for not intervening, I knew they would. And I couldn't tell what was worse, their outward miserableness, or their inward spite.

I said nothing...

"Welcome to Appleloosa..."

I looked over as we passed by Forty. He smiled, revealing missing teeth and a mouth colored in various reds. His right eye was already swelling. He spit out a broken tooth.

Chance stopped by him and started asking for directions.

"Where's the infirmary?"

He spit out another piece of tooth. "Hell if I know. S'not like I go there much."

Unfortunately for Forty, it seemed that Chance didn't like that answer.  He lowered his head and glared at him with hard, green eyes. "I don't know if you made the connection, but I'm in a lot of pain. Now just tell me where it is, before I you end up in there."

The stallion scoffed. "Is that a threat? Like you could do anything to me all banged up like that—"

Chance's medical saw levitated before Forty's throat.

"Chance," I said warningly. "Now, think about what you're doing..."

"Let me handle this," he hissed at me. He turned back to Forty. "Well, I hope you can find somepony soon that knows how to get you there, or you're going to have a pretty bad time..."

"You're crazy," said Forty, trying not to move lest the saw did, too.

"No, I just hate overly cocky smart-asses who think they can get away with being rude to everypony they meet! Now just point me to the damn infirmary!"

"Alright, alright! Just put that thing away!"

Chance put the saw back into his saddlebags. Forty took a few steps back. It seemed like he was contemplating whether or not to run away.

"It's up the path and across the way from Billy's and Presto's. Can't miss them. Then just keep going towards The Pen and it should be there on your right -- some dingy little shack."

Chance hobbled towards Forty, who was now cowering against his chariot looking ready to cry. He flared his nostrils, looking for all the world as if he wanted to strike out at the helpless-looking stallion.

“Thank you,” he said calmly. “Now, Odd, come on. This thing is burning and if I keep it on much longer, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Oh Goddesses... We were going inside.

We left the bewildered and afraid Forty behind and made our way into Appleloosa proper. It was exactly as I thought it would be: filthy, decrepit... filthy. There were upturned chariots masquerading as houses. Anything considered to be a true building was made of rotten wood. The only relatively intact building was a two-story that was getting a lot of visitors. As we walked by, we noticed a sign above the door that read ‘Billy’s Saloon’. Just next to that was ‘Presto’s What you need, when you need it Guns and Ammo’.

That’s just great. Put the place with the alcohol next to the place with deadly weapons. … Oh, and then put the infirmary a good three-hundred feet away. It’s like this was meant to be a place where ponies come to die. It didn’t help my uneasiness to learn that the infirmary was placed behind a sign labeled ‘Cutter’s’.

I called out for someone. A young, cream-colored mare with gray hair trotted out from behind a wall. Her cutie mark was that of a medical saw, so I assumed she was Cutter. Her eyes widened as she neared and noticed Chance’s tourniquet and hoof-hole.

“Pull that off,” she said. “Get the blood flowing again.”

I was on the verge of asking her if she was crazy, but that was before Chance bit through the cloth and started vigorously shaking his hoof.

The mare fished around in a drawer before pulling out a vial of glowing purple something. She ran, set that down next to Chance, grabbed a flashlight, and ran back. She clicked it on with her teeth and started examining the hole.

“Bullet wound?”

“Yes.”

“Looks clean. I can’t see any shrapnel. What kind of bullet was it?”

Chance tilted his head towards the rifle that was now strapped across my back.

Her eyes met with mine and they narrowed. “You shot him?”

“What? No, I didn’t!”

She looked ready to argue with me, but Chance interrupted her. “He didn’t shoot me. It was some striped pony hiding out in a place called Harmony Church.”

“You two took out that drifter zebra?”

“Zebra?” we asked.

“That wasn’t a striped pony you saw. It was a zebra. They’re kind of like ponies, but they come from Roam. They say it’s a place really far away from Equestria. After the war, a lot of them were stuck here--”

“War?”

“The Great War between ponies and zebras? How could you two not know about the war?”

Chance looked over his shoulder and jumped away from me. “Bleeding here.”

The mare unstoppered the vial and instructed Chance to drink it. He seemed to have no problem with drinking this mysterious pony’s purple potion. Though, I guess it was for the better; before my eyes, Chance’s flesh was building back together around the hole. In a few seconds, it was no less than a hairless dot on his hoof.

“What was that?” asked Chance.

“When did the war start?”

She turned to Chance first. “That was a healing potion. They’re concentrated healing magic, essentially, made into a tangible form.” The  she put her hoof to her chin and tapped it in thought. “And I believe the war started about a hundred years ago. It was over about as fast as it began. They say it only took two hours before the war was over.”

“How could a war only last two hours?” I asked.

“Well, it was going on for years. It’s just that the end of the war lasted that long. The zebras fired megaspells at Equestria, and Equestria fired back. That’s why the Stables were made, so that ponies would be safe when the megaspells were launched.” She sighed. “I’ll bet those Stable ponies didn’t even know what was going on up here...”

A refuge in case of... Something. I don’t know what I thought my mother meant when she said that. I must not have thought about it at all. I had no idea that Chance and I were playing outside on the day the world would almost end...

She gasped. “You two are from a Stable! It makes so much sense now! I don’t know why I didn’t think that’s where the PipBuck came from--”

I took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ponies tend to know about why the Wasteland is what it is. If you two don’t know, that must mean you’re from a Stable! Which one are you from?”

It was tough to try and shrug away her question, seeing as how it was so blunt.

“We’re from Stable Seventy-Five.”

There was a silence reminiscent to that of Kvetch’s earlier. Though, instead of simply dismissing us, she was thinking what we said through.

“But Seventy-Five’s been overrun with Imps for years. If you guys are acting like you grew up in a Stable... How is that possible?”

Chance gasped. “The Cryo-tek chambers...”

“The what chambers?”

“It was a Stable-Tec experiment,” I answered. “We must have been stuck inside of the chambers for all of those years.”

… I had been promised a better future. No, a brighter future. This wasn’t either. I felt cheated. I felt empty--

“So what do we do now?” asked Chance.

I felt lost. I had gone into the chambers thinking that everything would be better. I didn’t like how my life was turning out. I thought I could just escape, and I was glad to be given the opportunity. But that was then. Now, I actually wanted the Overmare to give me something to do. I wanted to be given a crappy odd job just so I had something to take my mind off of the Wasteland.

Cutter interrupted my train of thought. “You can do whatever you want.”

“What do you mean ‘whatever you want’? Don’t you have some sort of leader that tells you what to do?”

She snorted. “Well, we’ve got Papa, but it’s not like anypony obeys him.”

“Do you know where Papa is? I think I want to talk to him.” Yes, I would have a delightful little chat with him about how he was running the town. If he was having trouble keeping his ponies in order, I wanted to make sure he knew what was going on.

Even then, there was absolutely no excuse for letting ponies enslave each other.

“He should be in the saloon,” she answered. “He spends most of his time in there.”

Great, a drunk pony leading Slavers... "To Billy's Saloon, then," I said.

I pushed the infirmary door open and trotted briskly towards the two-story establishment, the only thing on my mind being giving Papa a piece of my mind. He might be able to do whatever he wanted, but, by the same token, I was able to tell him that what he wanted to do was cruel and sadistic. And if the ensuing argument didn't get through to him, I'd say it was downright insane.

Chance caught up to me. "Odd, this is crazy."

"You're right."

I slammed the door open.

The building was so dark inside that I couldn't notice anything but the slowly diminishing volume of a piano and oboe song. Chance and I stepped inside, the door slammed behind us, and the music cut off entirely. I could now see well enough to realize that everyone inside was looking at us. There was a faint glow throughout the room, caused by a multitude of unicorns aiming guns at us.

I suddenly didn't feel as righteous as I did while on my way here...

"Ponies, ponies, please!" A brown stallion dressed in a large red overcoat was approaching from the side. His voice was smooth, his trot even more so, which made him seem oddly at ease even with so many hostile ponies nearby. He stopped before us and turned to face the crowd. "You're scaring our guests! Put your guns away!"

There was a general mumble of disappointment before the collective glow subsided. The music began to pick up again, and ponies' voices rose to meet it. Everything was back to... Normal.

The stallion turned back to us. "I don't believe I've seen either of you before." His eyes darted to my flank. "And I know I would remember seeing a blank flank."

Chance held his hoof out. "Thanks for helping us just now. My name's Chance."

The stallion shook his hoof. "Nice to meet you." He then held his hoof out to me. "You sure are an odd-looking pony. What's your name?"

I gritted my teeth and shook his hoof. "It's Odd. Odd Job."

"Welcome to Appleloosa, Odd Job. I hope my acquaintances haven't changed your opinion about our wonderful town."

"Oh, don't worry. They haven't..."

"Good, good!" he said, smiling. "You know, I still have to apologize for them. Come, follow me."

The stallion turned and trotted swiftly towards a glowing red portion of the saloon. Chance went to follow him, and I followed behind.

"Chance, this is ridiculous. We need to go find Papa before something else happens."

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "And where do you expect to find him?"

"He's probably--"

"Look, we'll just go follow this guy, thank him for his help, and then we can ask around in here. There's bound to be somepony around who knows where he is."

"But..."

He had already started moving again. I shook my head and followed him.

It was odd to see the effects of alcohol en masse. Well, I hoped these ponies were drunk. One corner of the building seemed to be taken up by a horde of drunken lovers. There were mares kissing mares and stallions kissing stallions. Some large mass that I couldn't quite make out was rolling across the floor and bumping into ponies. It rolled too far and got into the corner of the bar where there were hoof-fights at every table. Actually, nearly half of the building was home to such fights, each of which seemed to be escalating in brutality. I turned away as one pony was heaved so strongly away that he punched a hole through the building's wall.

... Was I the only one that noticed?

The last portion of the room was taken up by ponies playing billiards, darts, and cards. It was easily the most sophisticated section of the saloon. The tables where the games were played ringed around a small canvas, which was covering the source of the red light that Chance headed for. A server pushed her way out of the canvas, revealing Chance and the stallion. I worked my way through the tables and pushed past the canvas.

Two mares, one that looked like Cutter and another that could easily be the stallion's daughter, were sitting at a table next to the stallion. Chance and them were laughing at something he said. The stallion nudged the mares away and he stood to greet me. "Ah, welcome, Odd Job! I was wondering when you would show up!"

Chance downed a mug of some brown drink and spoke. "To be honest, I thought you'd left."

"But it only took me twenty seconds or so to--"

"Watch out!"

The serving mare came back inside and pushed me aside before setting more drinks on the table.

"Another round of cider for the new arrival, Sunny!"

She went out of her way to shove me again before exiting the canvas once more.

I took a seat opposite the stallion. "Thank you, but I don't drink. I'd rather have water or something."

"Fine, I'll drink your cider," said Chance.

"I think you've had enough."

"Lighten up, Odd!" Sunny returned with two mugs of the cider, both of which he levitated towards himself. "It's not like we're in a hurry to get somewhere."

"Sunny? A water for our friend here."

She giggled and walked back out.

I reached across the table and grabbed Chance's last, full mug out of the air.

"Hey!"

"I don't need you getting drunk, Chance."

"Odd, I'm going to have to agree with your friend here. What's wrong with enjoying yourself for a while?"

"This was just supposed to be a quick in-and-out, that's why."

The two mares erupted in peals of laughter. Even the stallion found it difficult not to grin.

I slammed the mug down on the table. "I just need to talk to Papa!"

The table was silent. Chance swiped the mug from me and downed it. The stallion leaned forward and put his hooves on the table.

"Well? Can I talk to him?"

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

I went to talk, but stopped. This was Appleloosa's leader? That couldn't be possible! He was the most likeable pony I'd met in the Wasteland so far!

“Well?” he prompted. “You wanted to talk to me, and here I am.”

I was dumbstruck. I expected a fight, guards, some threats at least. He was being entirely civilized, which really threw a wrench into my plans.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on in Appleloosa?” I choked out.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, the incident involving Forty... I’ve been thinking about letting him go. His job is to make sure that nopony wearing a collar escapes, and clearly, he’s not doing well.”

“That’s not what I meant. You’re enslaving ponies.”

The three of them stared blankly at me. I had a feeling they were completely aware of the fact.

Papa leaned back and sighed. “That’s the opinion of most ponies. I don’t blame you, Odd. What happened when you arrived was wrong. Unfortunately for us, first impressions go a long way. You must understand that we help ponies. We are forced to collar ponies, and drag them back kicking and screaming if we have to, because no other plans of ours work.”

“That’s barbaric!”

He spread his hooves in the air. “I can’t deny that. But I can bear that just knowing that in the end, I’ve done something to help. All of the ponies we’ve brought in were enduring the worst the Wastes had to offer. They were either about to be eaten by raiders, or taken by Imps, or subject to some other horror. And regardless of how ponies struggle against us, we can’t let them continue to live like they do.”

“Raiders?”

“Cannibals,” he answered. “Just one step above a ghoul, but worse, considering they know exactly what they’re doing.”

“Ghouls?” That sounded like something bad.

“They’re ponies that have been exposed to large amounts of radiation, but haven’t been fortunate enough to die. Their manes fall out, their skin starts to fall off, and they all go crazy eventually--”

“What’s radiation?” asked Chance.

His face hardened. “I... I’ve never met such inquisitive ponies as you two.” He made it sound like his patience was wearing thin. “You know, they say curiosity killed the cat.”

If that didn’t sound ominous, I don’t know what would. We were managing to upset the leader of the only town around for quite a while, despite his initial hospitality.

“So, now that you know how twisted and dangerous the Wasteland is, maybe you can understand where we’re coming from?”

“No, I can’t.”

Papa seemed taken aback.

“What you’re doing here isn’t right. These ponies don’t like it here.” I flashed back and saw the mother and son, crying together just inside the town. “Whatever you offer them can’t possibly be enough for them if they resist you so much. You’re taking away their freedom.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “What would you rather take from somepony: their freedom, or their life?”

That hit me hard. Was it really that black and white? Had we been gone so long that the only way to live was to become a slave? Was there no chance for ponies to be free anymore?

“Just something to think about...” said Papa, reaching into his overcoat’s pocket. He pulled his hoof back out and put a small pile of bottlecaps on the table. “There, that should be more than enough for some meals and a room in town. You can spend the night here and figure out what you want to do in the morning.”

“... Those are bottlecaps.”

“Why, yes, they are.”

“How will that buy us food?”

“Just go ahead and get something to eat, Odd. Those caps are good money,” he said, leaning back again. “You have my word.”

Chance scooped up the caps and grinned. “Thank you, Papa. Let’s go get something to eat, then.” Without waiting for me, Chance pushed past the canvas.

Sunny pushed her way in afterwards, carrying a tray that held a glass of some murky, brown liquid. “You have no idea how long it took me to find a sink around here that still works!” She slammed the glass on the table. “Enjoy your water.”

That was water?

I stood up and chuckled halfheartedly. "You know, I think I’m a bit more hungry than thirsty. I haven't eaten in... A long time."

I pushed my way through to the saloon proper. Chance had been waiting for me just outside. Papa said that we could get some food here. I could see servers carrying food around. I tracked one and found out that they were getting it from a bar seated far back into the room. Chance noticed too, and we headed over.

We took our seats, Chance perhaps a bit less gracefully than I. A pony to our left was drinking some kind of soup from a bowl while his friend nibbled on skewered bits of something.

"I fuckin' love this stuff, man," said the skewer-holding one. "Best food in the Wastes right here."

The soup-slurping one stopped slurping and turned to him. "I don't know why you bother with just the skewers, though. Another cap and you get those with all this other stuff--"

"Yeah, I'd rather not have muddy water and rotten vegetables with my radigator." He waved his hoof out to a pony behind the counter. "Another beer!"

"Yeah, yeah, one second!" she shouted back. She came to where we were sitting. "What'll you have?"

Chance pointed to the stallion to the far left. "I'll have what he's having."

"And you?"

"Oh... Ah, I'm not really hungry right now." My stomach mumbled in protest, but not loudly enough for either to hear.

"You'd think after a hundred years that you'd be hungry..." grumbled Chance.

"Yeah," I responded. "Yeah, you would..."

I'd rather eat my right hoof. At least I knew it wasn't muddy or rotten. And, for that matter, what the hell was radigator? That sounded like some kind of animal...

Okay, now I really wasn't hungry.

The server returned with Chance's meal. "That'll be six caps."

He fished out what he needed and shoved it across the counter to her. She took the money and walked away. ... I didn't think that would have worked.

Chance dug into his skewers. They didn't sound crisp like fruits or vegetables. They were soft. And he sat there, tearing and rendering them--

I shoved myself away from the table and hurried toward the door. Chance had apparently followed me, pieces of his meal still clinging to his teeth.

"Odd, what's wrong?"

"Oh... Well, you see, I," I cleared my throat and backed away, feeling sick. "I thought I'd go find somewhere for us to stay while you eat, since I'm not hungry or anything."

"Alright," he said. "Just come and get me when you're done."

I nodded and pushed past the door.

As far as I knew, there was only one sane pony in this entire town. So she would probably be the only one I’d dare try to find a place to sleep from tonight. I really didn’t want to sleep in Appleloosa, though. I’d rather sleep in whatever Canterlot was covered in. This place was just awful.

Regardless, I eventually found myself inside of Cutter’s clinic, where she had her mouth buried in the torn open abdomen of another pony.

I didn’t care what she was doing, who she was doing it to, or about screaming and running away. All I knew was that there was blood and guts and--

Somepony tackled me to the ground. “Are you crazy?! What are ya doin’ runnin’ inta the mine field?!”

“What are you talking about?” I muttered through a mouthful of earth.

“You go in there an’ boom!” He got off of me and helped me to my hooves. He was an older stallion, definitely. Much like Papa, his skin was dark brown, except it was paler. His mane was about the same, but tinged with gray. He wore some random collection of rags and hard-looking plates.

I was having trouble deciding whether or not I liked him. He did save my life, though. That was definitely a plus. What was he saving me from, exactly? ‘Mines’ he said? I turned to where he was pointing and all I saw were a collection of mounds in the dirt. They lead back as far as--

Sweet Celestia...

The mounds stopped at a fence, which housed several, filthy, starving ponies. They all stood about with expressions of sorrow. There were some that I wasn’t sure were even breathing. The mare and colt from earlier today were huddled together in a corner of the fence far away, right up against a cliff that stretched far into the sky.

There was the sound of somepony running towards us.

“Odd?” It was Cutter. “Are you okay?”

I turned to see her face, covered in blood, looking up at me.

“Goddesses, no!” I screamed, looking away. I quickly realized that there was nowhere for me to look that didn’t scare the shit out of me, so I just dropped to the ground and put my hooves over my eyes. “This is wrong! Just this town is wrong!”

“What?”

“There are ponies that’ll end up killing each other in the saloon. And there are ponies like Blade that enslave other ponies. Then there are ponies here who eat meat! Meat! And then Papa told me that there are ponies out there who eat other ponies!”

“Yes, but--”

“No! There’s no ‘buts’! Even you were ripping somepony apart when I came in!”

“I was operating on somepony, Odd!”

“Your face was buried in their stomach!”

She sighed heavily. “Okay, I can tell that you’re a bit freaked out, but I was only getting to a bullet in his muscle so that I could pull it out. I was not eating him.”

That didn’t make me feel better at all. What sick bastard would shoot another pony?

“Come on, kid,” said the stallion, who nudged me. “There ain’t no way Cutter would act like a Raider.”

“Do you want to see him, Odd?”

“No!”

This time, they sighed together.

“Okay, you don’t have to see him. But at least get off the ground?”

I didn’t budge, so they decided to haul me up and lead me away. I didn’t open my eyes. All I needed now was to see some other sadist thing before I went crazy. Just one peek and I’d probably see someone raped with a unicorn horn or forced to eat their friend’s heart.

It seemed like forever until we made it into what I believed was Cutter’s clinic.

“What’s wrong with his eyes?” asked some stallion that I didn’t dare look at.

“Nothing,” answered Cutter. “They’re just virgin.”

He snorted.

“Okay, Odd, you won’t be able to see him, but I need you to open your eyes. That, or you can trip down all of these stairs and wait for some Slaver to come and drag you back up.”

I opened my eyes and rushed down the stairs, turning around and around to check for anything out of the ordinary. Ironically, everything I saw was odd; the room was clean, neat even. Stacked against the wall opposite me were several mattresses. Next to them were metal closets that shined as if they were new. The walls were painted, but the paint wasn’t peeling off. The only other thing in the room was the stallion who claimed to have saved me. He was holding his hoof out to me. I shook it.

"Name's Presto," he said. "I'm in charge o' the guns an' ammo 'round here.”

“Thanks for your help earlier,” I replied. “What are mines, anyway?”

“They’re explosives, an’ powerful ones at that. Ya step on ‘em or near ‘em an’ they blow up. Papa says they’re there to keep the slaves from runnin’ away.” He then muttered “Which is total brahmin shit by the way.”

“Anywho, I can't help but notice that rifle ya got there. It looks real nice, no rust er nothin'. Should get some decent range. Where'd ya get it?"

"Cutter said something about a drifter zebra in Harmony Church--"

He laughed. "You killed that son of a bitch? No kiddin'?"

"I didn't kill him, no. My friend did."

"Well, I can't say I'm sad ta know he's gone. But enough 'bout him; let's get down ta business. How much d'ya want for that rifle?"

"I'd rather not sell it." If he said it had decent range, forget it. In case I'd ever have to shoot something, Celestia forbid, I wouldn't want to be anywhere near it.

"Ya sure we can't work somethin' out? I'd love ta have that in my shop. Even if ‘twas just ta fix it up a bit?"

We did need some more money, but still...

"Let me go talk to my friend, and we'll see about it."

He nodded and stood up, seeming satisfied. "Alright. You know where ta find me. ‘Twas a pleasure to meet ya, Odd Job."

I nodded. "Same here."

He went up the stairs. I followed behind a short while after.

Cutter came around the corner (her face blood-free). "Do you feel better now?"

Actually, I had been feeling better. That is, until she said something about it. I instantly felt morbid for thinking that everything was fine, even though all of the problems I'd mentioned earlier were undoubtedly still going on.

"I'm not sure," I said. "There's a lot for me to think about at the moment."

"Like what?"

"First things first, it's getting dark outside. I need to find a place to stay for the night. And then Chance and I need to find some money."

"I'm afraid I can't help you with money problems, but I'd be more than happy to let you stay here for the night."

"Really?" It sounded almost too good to be true. I didn't even have to ask her.

"Of course. I've got some old mattresses back downstairs that you and your friend could sleep in. If you're short on money, I won't charge you anything either."

"Thank you." I paused. This still seemed wrong to me. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here in Appleloosa?"

She raised an eyebrow. "... I'm here to take care of ponies."

"No, I mean, why are you here in Appleloosa? It just doesn't seem like the kind of place for somepony like you. Isn't there somewhere else you could go? Somewhere better?"

"I suppose I could go to New Appleloosa, but this town's the only place I know."

That still sounded wrong. I must have been right, for as I thought about what to ask next, she continued.

"I stay here for the slaves," she sighed, now pacing. "If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here. When they get hurt -- physically, mentally -- they come to me, and I help them." She snorted. "It sucks that I have to heal the ponies that enslave them, too, but if I just packed up and left, the slaves wouldn't have any hope left."

"It sounds as if you don't like Slavers."

"Nopony likes Slavers; I hate them."

"But Papa says that Slavers help--"

She gave a derisive snort. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Not entirely, but--"

"What?" She rounded on me. "Are you telling me that you let him feed you that crap? Slavers don't help ponies! They're all better off wherever they were!"

"But they have you here, don't they?"

She went to retaliate, but stopped. "What do you mean by that?"

"You said it yourself, you take care of those ponies when they're injured. That has to be better than whatever happens to them out in the Wasteland."

"Odd, if you ever get the chance, go to the pen and ask everypony inside if they would like to leave. Half of them won't answer you out of fear. The other half will be ready to go in an instant." She went to go down the stairs. "They don't have anything here except hope that somepony like you will help."

I listened to her hooves patter around for a while.

... I had nothing better to do.

I walked out of Cutter's clinic and made a beeline for the fence.

I remember the sun being in my eyes for a split second before I was plunged into the shadow of the cliff before me.

I stopped only briefly to remind myself of what Presto said about the explosive mines. However, I could tell that ponies had walked through it before. Not only would new slaves have to be walked through (because of the fact that the fence's door was facing the field), but there was even a visible trail in the dirt. I trotted through cautiously.

Luckily, there were no 'booms'. I made it to the fence and reexamined the ponies within. Cutter was right; they had nothing here, and they were afraid. Only one pony raised her head at my approach.

"What are you doing here?"

I sighed heavily. "I'm wondering at what's stopping me from letting every single one of you free..."

Now all of them looked up. There was a collective mumbling from all of the slaves.

"And that would be?"

Yes, there was a lock on both fence doors, but I could probably pick them. Something else entirely was making me hold back.

"I have a feeling that the Slavers will all try to either round you up, kill you, or detonate your collars when you start to escape--"

"That doesn't matter," said the white mare. "I'd rather be dead than stuck in here."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"No. I'd rather have you all get out of here alive." Some of them turned away as I said that. "I'd rather give you all a fighting chance later than have you killed senselessly today."

I didn't have anyone's attention now. They had all turned their backs to me.

... Now they didn't even have hope.

And it was my fault.

"I'm sorry," I said to them. They still looked away. "I will help you, but I can't right now. ... I'm so sorry."

It tore my heart to walk away. I wanted so desperately to turn around and buck the fence in. I wanted to say ‘Just kidding!’ and make all of them feel better. But what could I do? I had some guns, but so did everyone else here. Even if I could pick the lock, the odds of leading everyone out safely without disturbing anything were slim to none. Plus, there were the collars to worry about. If anypony got too far away from the pen, they would die. And even then, if everypony could make it out alive, who’s to say that they would live happy lives out in the Equestria that was now a Wasteland?

Was Papa right? Was Cutter right?

Was anyone right anymore?

I made my way to Billy’s Saloon with the intent of getting Chance out. I might not be able to save every slave from their fate today, but I was going to make sure that Chance was safe from anyone that might try to take advantage of him and his drunkenness.

The only question was: where did he go? When I left, he was still at the bar. Now the only pony there was one who had fallen asleep in his soup bowl and the bartender. She looked up as I approached.

“You looking for you friend?” she asked.

“Yes, actually.”

She pointed a hoof towards the red canvas on the other side of the saloon. “He’s at the tables. I’ve heard he’s cleaning up over there.”

What? She couldn’t be serious. How could a drunk pony, especially Chance of all ponies, be good at playing cards?

I remember thinking that all the way to the table, just until I could see a massive pile of caps beside Chance past a large crowd of ponies that had surrounded him and Blade, the only pony remaining at the table.

The crowd gasped as Chance shoved all of his caps into the center of the table. Obviously, that meant he had done something wrong.

“Chance,” I said, shoving my way through the crowd. “What the hell is going on?!”

He looked up at me and smiled. “I don’t know!”

On the table were two kings, two aces, and a seven. Blade shoved all of his caps into the center of the table as well and turned his cards around: another king and seven.

The table went dead silent. Chance chuckled and urged somepony to come look at his cards. The pony’s eyes widened, and Chance laid down his cards. With his hand and the table’s cards, he had all four aces.

Blade jumped up from his seat. “That’s brahmin shit! He cheated! I should kill him for that!”

“Get over yourself, Blade,” said Papa, who had pushed through the crowd. “Chance won fair and square. He’s just one lucky son of a bitch.”

Blade clenched his jaw. “Yeah, well he’ll be one dead son of a bitch if I ever see him getting four aces again! That doesn’t just happen!” He then stormed off through the doors of the saloon.

Chance started to scoop up his winnings into his saddlebags. I went over and helped him as best I could. Soon enough, we had filled one side of his bags. When we were done, it was almost impossible to strap either side shut. I still have no idea how the hell he managed to win, considering he was stumbling all over the place.

“How many caps did you win, exactly?”

He belched loudly. “All of them.”

I shook my head. “Well, come on. Cutter’s said that we can spend the night in the clinic.”

“I hope we’re not going to be sleeping together,” he said, chuckling giddily. “That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure...”

I led Chance outside as he hobbled along behind me. It was starting to get dark. Thank the goddesses that Presto’s store was right next door. Part of me was glad that we were going to get there before the shop closed. Another part was glad that we might have the opportunity to make it less painfully obvious that Chance was carrying so much money.

I pushed the door open to see Presto walking around behind a counter covered in weapons. His eyes lit up at the sight of me. "Welcome, Odd Job! Anything I can help ya with before I close up fer the night?"

“I believe you said something about fixing up my rifle?”

“Well, yes, but are ya sure y’don’t want ta sell it?”

“That? Yes, I’m absolutely sure. You’ll still fix it though, right?”

He sighed. “Yeah, sure. Hand it over and I’ll get to work on it later.”

I undid the strap on my rifle and placed it on the counter. “Wait, I’ve got some more things to show you.” I fished around in my saddlebags and pulled out the boxy pistol and the scoped pistol that we’d found earlier.

“Ya wanna sell both of these? Even the laser pistol?”

I looked down at the boxier pistol, the only one he could be referring to. “Laser pistol? As in it shoots lasers?”

"Eeyup. It’s Enclave technology. Looks nice as well, which ain’t too surprising I guess."

"Enclave?"

He sighed. "So you two are new ‘round here... Didn’t ya ever wonder why ya ain't seen no pegasuses? Er why ya can't see the sun?"

Actually, no, I hadn't.

"Well, all pegasuses are part o’ the Enclave. It’s some kinda government they came up with durin’ the war. Right before the bombs went off, they did some fancy flyin’ and set up the cloud curtain. They’ve been hidin’ behind it ever since.” He picked up the pistol in his hoof and smirked. "Every once in awhile they come down an’ check up on us. I bet that's what they call it, too, 'checkin' up'. They come down, kill as many ponies as they can, and fly away again. This prob'ly was a newbie's. Got scared an’ just left it down here."

I had a hard time imagining that was true, but everything added up. I hadn’t seen a single pegasus since coming out of the Stable. And the clouds hadn’t cleared, either. Normally, pegasi were responsible for clearing the clouds. Now, they must be responsible for making sure they didn’t clear.

But I had seen the sun just a while ago. What did that mean?

I shook my head and went back to the matter at hoof. "Well, I would like to sell it, unless you have any ammo for it?"

"You’re in luck." he popped open a green metal box on the counter next to him and poured out several of what looked like batteries. "It takes magic cells. I get tons o' these 'cause everypony else uses bullets."

"How much are they?"

"Well... They each have enough charge fer thirty shots, but I ain't sure how much magic is s'posed ta cost. How 'bout ten caps fer each?"

"That sounds fair to me." Then again, we had goddess-knows how many caps. I stepped aside and began to unbuckle Chance’s saddlebags.

This must have been the first time Presto noticed the amount of money we were carrying. “Land sakes, Odd! How much money does yer friend have in there?”

I shrugged and continued counting out caps for the magic cells. That cost us a hundred caps, and it still looked like we would have trouble sealing Chance’s bags shut again. I continued counting out caps for Chance’s rifle and his pistol ammunition. In the end, we had only spent two hundred caps, which seemed more than fair. At least, Presto didn’t seem to be complaining.

“Anythin’ else you need before you go?”

“Well...” I was still uncomfortable with the amount of money that Chance had on him. It just bothered me. Blade said that he wanted to kill Chance to get his money back, and I couldn’t think of anything that would stop him. It was nice to know that if he came to fight, that we were ready to fight back, but we were still unprotected. “What do you have in the way of armor?”

He reached beneath the counter and heaved up some bundles of heavy fabric. He pointed to one that wasn’t as bulky. “That’s just leather. Nice an’ thick, though. Pretty decent armor fer not so many caps.” The next one he pointed to was rather chunky. “This one’s leather, too, but it’s got metal plates sewn in all over it. Bit bulkier, and it’s a bit better than just leather.” He picked up the last bundle, a thin, sleek, black cloth. “An’ this is Brotherhood of Steel recon armor. S’really light, but just as good as leather.”

“Can we try them on?”

“Sure.”

I took the recon armor and handed Chance one of the non-plated leather bundles. We shrugged off our saddlebags and got to work putting the armors on.

The way the recon armor was put together was just plain weird. It buckled together at the chest, which was fine, but I went to unbuckle it, and it split apart. It didn’t rip, it just fell apart. I picked up the chest piece, which now looked more like a jacket, except for the fact that its sleeves had no holes at the end. I fished around in my saddlebags for my PipBuck key. Having found it, I unlocked my PipBuck and let it drop onto the floor. I then resumed trying to put on the armor.

The thud it made as it hit the floor sparked Presto’s interest. “Where’d ya get that?”

“Chance found it on a dead pony in our Stable.”

... How the fuck was I able to say that so nonchalantly?!

“How much would ya want fer that if I wanted ta buy it off ya?”

“It’s not for sale,” I said quickly.

“What? Come on, Odd. I’ll give you a thousand caps for it, right here, right now.”

“No,” I said finally. “It’s not for sale.”

For two reasons, though. One, I had no idea how we could carry around one thousand caps on top of what we already had. Two... I just didn’t want to sell that PipBuck. It was just... I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to part with it, regardless of the way it was obtained.

“Suit yourself...”

I pulled the armored jacket over my head, shoved my hooves down the sleeves, and re-zipped it. The cloth ended just around the middle of my back. That done, I tackled the bottom half of the armor. There were no zippers this time, just a pair of sleeves for my rear legs and a large hole (that I assumed and hoped was for my tail). They slipped on rather easily. A snap of a buckle later, and the armor was all put together.

The fabric felt different, but not in a strange way. It felt like I was wearing... Well, clothes. They way it moved was strange, though. It was fitting, but not tight. When I stretched, it stretched accordingly, also without constricting me at all. Even when I put my PipBuck back on, the fabric seemed to move without any problems.

“I like this,” I said, still turning and admiring the armor. “How much?”

“It’ll be another three hundred caps for that. Plus one-fifty for yer friend’s armor.”

I rooted through Chance’s saddlebags and found the four hundred and fifty caps we would need to cover for the armor. It seemed that we were finally putting a dent in Chance’s winnings -- one that would make it much easier to carry the remaining portion around.

I looked over at Chance, who was half in, half out of his armor, snoozing quietly on the floor.

“Chance, wake up.”

“I am awake,” he mumbled.

“Well, then get up. If you’re tired, we should go back to Cutter’s and sleep on a real bed.”

“Fine...”

I helped Chance off the floor and gathered up whatever he hadn’t picked up himself. We said our thanks and goodbyes to Presto and walked out the door.

It was dark outside now. The light and sound coming out of Billy’s was much more apparent. There wasn’t anyone simply milling around anymore. The streets were empty, save for Chance and I.

We made it to Cutter’s clinic unscathed. It seemed that someone had already arranged places for us to sleep. Chance collapsed onto his mattress, making me realize how tired I was. I didn’t even bother taking off my armor. I just threw my saddlebags down and fell onto the other mattress.





Side Note: Level Up
New Perk: Hunger Games - It's now easier to persuade other ponies (+10 to Speech). Also, your rate of starvation has decreased.
> Odd's In Our Favor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On the ground I lay, motionless in pain.
I can see my life flashing before my eyes.
Did I fall asleep? Is this all a dream?
Wake me up! I'm living a nightmare."





There was nothing around me. Not simply a white or black horizon, but truly nothing. I could see myself, but not anything around me, for there was nothing to see.

From the nothing, I could see little specks materializing. They just appeared. And they multiplied, and grew, and became a shape. The shape twisted and contracted and made all sorts of movements before becoming something recognizable. It looked like a blue branch. Next to that appeared a horn. From nothing, such shapes continued to appear: some sort of claw, a paw, a lizard-like tail...

In what seemed like a minute or two, this creature, a jumble of all sorts of creatures, stood before me. It looked entirely bizarre. It wasn’t the strangest of my dreams at the moment, but the most vivid by a longshot.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” it replied. It had a masculine voice. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you, Odd Job.”

Well, that didn’t make any sense. What was this, some manifestation of mine? A symbol for the fact that this had been my first dream in nearly a century? ... Then again, this was a dream. It didn’t have to make sense.

“Shouldn’t there be more things here?” I asked, looking around. Absolutely nothing else but this creature had materialized so far. “I mean, this is my dream. What happened to all of the things that I’ve seen recently? Shouldn’t I be running from Imps or Blade right now?”

He squinted at me. “You don’t want that to be your dream, do you?”

“No, of course not! It’s... It’s just, this is a very boring dream,” I said.

“You’re right,” he said. I could see a twinkle in his eye. “Would you like to play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

“Anything you want.”

“Baseball?” He snapped his claws, and strange-looking striped clothes and caps materialized on both of us. Some sort of large glove now covered his paw, and there was a white ball in his claw. He dropped his arm slightly, the ball levitating in place while he snapped again. A thick piece of wood appeared in my mouth. He snatched the ball out of the air and chucked it at me. I could see for a brief second the face of an Imp on the ball before it burst into flames. I ducked out of the way.

“Hopscotch?” He snapped his claws again, and everything disappeared. Several chalk squares filled with images of ponies and monsters were suddenly laid out before, above, below, and around me. I knew how to play hopscotch, but this was ridiculous! I’d never be able to manage all of the squares!

“Chess?” Another snap, and the squares compacted together. The dust from them coalesced into a black and white checkered board.

“Yes! That sounds great!” Yes, chess, a nice, safe, game. It was definitely one I could manage, too. I quite enjoyed chess, actually. I’m glad we had a set to play with in the Stable. That’s probably why he mentioned it. I knew this dream would somehow relate to me eventually.

The pieces were the next to appear. There was a problem, though; the pieces all looked the same. Each one was of a small pony standing on two hooves and kicking the others into the air. As the game progressed, it would be near impossible to tell either side’s pieces apart.

I voiced my concern. He simply smiled and waved his paw over the board. My pieces remained white, and his became black. The shapes changed also, for him at least. His pawns had turned into some sort of insect creature with horns and wings. His rooks had changed into some sort of large dogs; his knights had changed into Imps; his bishops were now alicorns; his queen, a mare with a strange-looking hat; and his king, now himself.

“What about my pieces?”

“Hmm? You can change them if you want.”

I shook my head a muttered. “This is such a weird dream.”

He chuckled.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, still chuckling.

I waved my hoof over my board pieces. I had no concrete idea of what I wanted any piece to be, I was simply trying to see if they would change. The only one that did change was my king, which slowly changed into a statue of me.

“Interesting,” he muttered. Then he shrugged. “They’ll probably change when we start to play.”

My pieces were white, so I assumed I was supposed to go first. I moved my knight to a3. He, in turn, moved his pawn to e6. My knight was now in danger from his bishop. To counter, I moved my knight to c4. He then moved his pawn to b5.

I saw his pawns change back into the pony statue they were before. Except, some of the pieces started losing... pieces. Flecks of whatever they were made from were sloughing off and evaporating.

My piece morphed into a unicorn with a cross on his flank--





I awoke to the sound of someone coughing... Loudly, of course. It was okay, I guess. Just someone getting the morning crud out of their throat, I guessed.

I rolled back over and noticed how great it felt to have slept. I couldn't even tell what time it was. It might've just been an hour, for all I knew, but I felt fantastic.

The coughing still hadn't stopped, and it was getting much... Worse. It sounded really deep and airy. I heard something thud onto the floor.

Okay, something was definitely wrong.

I stood up, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and hurried up the stairs. The coughing was getting much louder.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Cutter struggling on the floor behind a table. She was the one that was coughing. Her hooves were crossed over her throat, grasping for something I couldn't see.

"Oh, shit!" I screamed, finally realizing what was going on. "You're choking! Uh, umm... Come on, stand up! I know the Heimlich Maneuver, but you're not in the right position for it!"

She glared at me, still quite obviously choking, and started getting up. I turned her around and lifted her up enough to where she could hold onto the table. Then, summoning up all of the medical knowledge I'd learned in Seventy-Five, I dug my hooves into her abdomen and squeezed.

The first squeeze didn't do anything but jolt her forward, so I helped her get on all four hooves before trying again. That didn't do anything either, and I could tell she was getting worse. I stood her up on her rear legs and sqeezed a few more times, and was finally rewarded by the sickly plop of some half-eaten something landing on the floor.

She collapsed to the ground and sucked in as much air as she could. "Thank you," she said, releasing a shuddery sigh. She crawled over to a chair and heaved herself into it. "Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you were here to help."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no... Not at all." She looked down at the blob of whatever on the floor. "I guess I just bit off more than I could chew."

"I'm glad it didn't take too long. I was getting worried you would pass out."

"I almost did. But everything's alright now." She took another deep breath and looked around before focusing on where I had come from.

I turned around to see Chance standing at the top of the stairs, red-faced.

"I didn't just... You two... Should I...?"

Cutter and I glanced at each and looked away just as quickly. My face was getting hot.

"Goddesses, no!" we said.

"She was choking on something," I said quickly. "I woke up, rushed up here, and helped her."

"Nothing else," she added.

Chance stared at us, wide-eyed, before quickly running down the stairs. “Well... I-I guess I’ll just eat down here, then...”

“Chance, there’s nothing to eat down there.”

He just as quickly ran back up the stairs with his saddlebags in tow, chuckling nervously. “I’ll just be at Billy’s, then.” He tried speeding towards the door, but Cutter made a run for it and blocked his path.

“If you tell anypony about this, I swear to Celestia that--”

Chance panicked, threw her aside, and made a mad dash through the door out into Appleloosa. Cutter attempted to follow him, but I held her back.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, taking her place to prevent her from running outside. “You’re going to threaten him to make sure he doesn’t say anything about me stopping you from choking?”

“But he thinks we were having sex!”

“Even though we didn’t?” That stopped her. It was rather difficult to argue with me about that. “And then you had to go and threaten him about it! You basically just told him that we were having sex!”

“Yes, but...” She sighed and went to go sit down again. She didn’t even attempt to continue eating (whether from her near-death experience or her shame, I didn’t know). “You should probably go tell him then. I... I think he’s really freaked out about it.”

I didn’t bother collecting my stuff. I just pushed the door open.

Before I left, I looked back through the door. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t tell anyone.”

She smiled weakly.

I shut the door behind me and made my way to the saloon. There was a steady, but thin, trickle of ponies heading into the building. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hard to find Chance. ... Hopefully, he hadn’t run somewhere else.

Inside, ponies were taking table seats, waiting to be waited on. I scanned the tables, but didn’t see Chance anywhere. He was instead at the bar. And he wasn’t alone. Blade and two other ponies were standing before Chance, who looked as if he was still stunned from what had happened. He was shaking, even. Neither of the ponies around him seemed to care. They were simply taking turns poking fun at him.

“You look like you’ve just seen an Imp or somethin’,” said one. “You scared o’ those things?”

“O’course he’s scared of ‘em!” said the other. “If he wasn’t, he would’ve wiped ‘em all out instead of runnin’ from Seventy-Five with his tail between his legs!”

Blade moved to Chance’s side and stepped closer. “Speaking of running away, you left pretty quickly after stealing all of my money. And I remember saying that you’d be dead if I ever saw you again.”

I was past the point of screaming out ‘That’s not true!’. I ran up to Blade, who was completely oblivious, and punched him right in the jaw. He went slack, hit against the counter, and slumped to the ground. The other two ponies went wide-eyed and backed off a bit. I rounded on them.

“Keep making fun of him,” I growled. “Go ahead, I dare you.”

“Look, buddy, we don’t want any trouble--”

“Then gather up your friend and get lost.”

They looked at each other briefly before moving to pick up Blade, who was entirely unresponsive. All the better, I thought. They hefted him up onto their backs and trudged back through the saloon’s doors.

I took a seat next to Chance and sighed. This wasn’t going to be fun... “Chance, I--”

“Please tell me you two weren’t having sex!” he blurted out.

“We weren’t,” I answered calmly. “Like I said before, I woke up, heard her choking, and went upstairs to help. And that’s all that happened.”

He turned to me. HIs blue eyes were quivering slightly. “But everything you said... And when you two were blushing... And then when Cutter said...”

“Cutter didn’t mean what she said: she was just embarrassed. She told me that she was sorry for freaking you out so badly.”

“So you two really weren’t doing anything?”

“Not at all.”

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then released a shuddery breath. “Okay.”

It was quiet for a while. Chance still hadn’t moved or anything. He had stopped shaking, but he was still just sitting there, staring at the wall in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“... Yeah.” He fidgeted a bit. “It was just really weird, I guess. And then Blade came up to me. I... I thought he was really going to kill me. ... All over a card game.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about Blade for much longer.” His ears perked up. “I wasn’t planning on staying here for much longer, actually.”

“Do you think we can leave before Blade will notice?”

“We might, but I still have to go get my stuff from Cutter’s before we can leave. You can just stay here, if you want. It’ll only take me a few minutes. Then we can go to Presto’s get my rifle back, and go.”

He seemed to relax almost immediately. “Alright, I’ll stay here. Just... Just be careful, Odd.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “I will be.”

I left and made my way back to Cutter’s clinic. When inside, I was ecstatic to see that Blade was still unconscious. And I found it slightly amusing that the other two, who had poked fun at Chance for being scared, looked horrified at the sight of me.

“Like I said man, we don’t want any trouble,” said the one closest to the stairs.

I smirked and moved forward, side stepping around him as he shrank back even further before I made my way downstairs. My stuff was still tucked away in a corner of the basement. I pulled it on and headed back up. The two ponies were still shying away from me. Cutter, on the other hoof, took a break from examining Blade to talk to me.

“So I’m guessing you did this?”

“Yes, I did.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m assuming you had a good reason to?”

“They,” I said, waving my hoof around at all three ponies. “Were standing around Chance poking fun at him for being afraid. And Blade threatened to kill him for winning the poker game last night, so I thought it’d be better not to give him the opportunity.”

“I guess he deserved it then. I can’t say that Blade didn’t have something like that coming to him. I can’t say I’m proud of what you did, either.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter.” Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Chance and I were going to be leaving soon anyway.”

“Leaving for where?”

I shrugged.

“Well, if you’re sure that you don’t want to stick around, you should at least take a few of these with you.” She went over to a cabinet and pulled out four more of those healing potions.

“But aren’t those really valuable, considering how much they do for--”

“Considering what happened earlier, I’ll just give them to you.” She didn’t really give me the option to refuse, as she started slipping them into my saddlebags. “If you’re going to go somewhere, New Appleloosa’s the place to go. You’re going to have to catch the train, though.”

“Train?” They could only find one sink in the entire town that worked, but they had a train?

“Well, it is the easiest way to get there. And the least exhausting by a longshot.”

“Alright, then.” That did sound better than trekking through treacherous Wasteland. “Thanks for your help, Cutter.”

“No problem.”

I went back through the doors and trotted briskly to the saloon. Thankfully, Chance was already waiting outside. I called for him, and he came to follow me.

“So are we leaving now?” he asked.

“Soon,” I answered. “We’ve got to stop at Presto’s and pick up my rifle. After that, Cutter says we should get out of town and catch a train to New Appleloosa.”

“They have a train here?”

“Apparently.” I pushed my way through the door and into Presto’s shop.

He looked up from working on what looked like my rifle, except that it looked much, much nicer. “Hey, Odd, glad ta see ya! I got yer rifle all fixed up last night, had time ta polish it even! There were a few dents in the stock an’ the strap was almost fallin’ apart, but I managed ta find everythin’ I needed!”

“That’s great! How much did it cost?”

“Straight-to-the-point, I see. No worries, though, it’s only gonna be eighty caps.”

“Sounds fair to me.” I fished another hoof-full of caps out of Chance’s saddlebags.

“I’ll throw in some ammo for you ta test the scope with, if ya like.”

“Where would I test it?” I sure hope he didn’t mean testing it in the field...

“Come with me,” he said.

I clumsily strapped the rifle onto my back and followed Presto through a back door. Chance followed behind me. Outside, it ended up being some sort of target range. Traditional, alternating red and white circles were set up on posts at different distances, stretching away towards the fence around the town.

“Yer gonna wanna start at the closest target, then adjust the scope, and go further. Don’t adjust too much, though. Ya only need ta turn the scope about half a rotation fer it ta start movin’.”

I unclipped my saddlebag and set it on the ground. Presto and Chance lied down on the ground while I fiddled with my rifle. The only way I could think about getting to it was rolling the strap along my shoulder until it got to where I could hold it. The most awkward part was that I couldn’t just bring the scope to my face; I had to tilt my head until I could see through it. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It... It just felt right.

I lined up the scope on the first target and pulled the trigger.

Quite a few things happened. First, I jumped. I honestly did not expect the gun to be that loud. Second, Chance jumped, for the same reason. Third, I heard the bullet thud into the dirt. And, fourth, I heard Presto chuckle.

That hurt, so I lined up my shot and tried again. I hit nearly the exact same spot on the dirt. At least I knew I was consistent...

“Which way do I move the adjustments?”

“The top one moves it up and down, and the bottom one moves it left and right.”

I clicked the scope a few times so that it moved up and to the right. Another shot, and another miss. Though, this miss was much farther away. That had to mean the scope was moving up, at least. I moved the scope up and to the right a tad more.

The next shot I made hit the target, right in the center.

“Wow, Odd,” said Presto. “That’s a lucky shot.”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t believe in luck, but the evidence was right there before me. I lined up the scope and took another shot, which once more landed in the bullseye.

“No point in shootin’ a dead pony, Odd. Move on to the next target.”

... I was doing this to ensure that I could shoot ponies. It was quite a shocking revelation, trust me. But a part of me wanted to continue. It wanted to make sure that I knew how this thing worked, in case I would ever need to use it.

I aimed for the next target, and shot the outer ring of the target on the first try. I realigned a few times and got to dead center again. For the last target, which just looked like a dot without looking through the scope, I never quite hit the center. My shots were consistent, but none of them were bullseyes. It was close enough, I guessed.

“Well, I would say it’s time for us to start heading for the train.”

Presto yawned. ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. You two really should get goin’. The train’s supposed ta leave in a few minutes.”

I rolled the rifle around my shoulder, and it landed comfortably in the same spot as it had before. I gathered up my saddlebags and went to shake Presto’s hoof. “Thanks for the help, Presto.”

“No problem,” he said.

We headed at a slightly faster pace towards the entrance to Appleloosa. Presto did say it was leaving soon, after all.

As we neared the entrance, I noticed Papa and Forty conversing. Papa looked gravely serious, and Forty had his tail tucked between his legs. There was one last emphasized something before Forty walked away, looking like a zombie.

Papa turned and noticed us. “Oh, Odd Job! Good morning! How are you two today? Are you thinking about staying here?”

“We’ve been better... We were actually just going to catch the train to New Appleloosa now.” I turned to see Forty still walking away, still looking nearly dead. “What exactly did you say to Forty?”

“I let him go,” he said simply. “He wasn’t doing his job, and there isn’t any room in Appleloosa for those that don’t do their job.”

That sounded extremely assuring. We clearly weren’t doing anything, yet he made an exception for us. What was that supposed to mean?

“Well, we should get going, then--”

Kvetch came to us now. “Oh, you’re not leaving so soon, are you? You still have five hundred caps to pay me. Which reminds me, where’d you get those fancy clothes from? I bet they didn’t come cheap” asked Twitch.

“We got them from Presto. Can we go? We’re trying to catch the train.”

“Hold on a second,” said Kvetch. “You bought stuff from him, knowing you had to pay me five hundred caps?”

“But you said we could just go inside!”

“I never thought you’d make it out alive! Hell, I didn’t expect to see you two ever again! But if you made some money, and you want out as badly as you want in, you’re gonna have to pay!”

“Hold on there, Kvetch.” Papa walked up to the stallion, who was noticeably taller and bulkier than he. “With all that these two have gone through recently, I don’t think you need to be taking their money.”

“But we had an agreement--”

Papa said nothing. All he did was stare into Kvetch’s eyes. Within a few seconds of this, Kvetch’s argument had been reduced to an angry mutter. He stepped aside and let us pass.

I heard Papa call to us as we left. “Goodbye, Odd Job, Chance! Do come back soon!”

“Hopefully we never have to,” said Chance.

Yes, hopefully we would never have to come back again.

Hopefully, someone else would come save the slaves inside.

...

Once we were out of the gate, I turned to the west and continued along the perimeter of the fence. In the distance, I could hear a whistle sounding. I couldn’t think of anything but a train that would make such a noise. And I couldn’t think of a better reason for a train to sound it other than its arrival... Or departure.

I could now see what was unmistakably the train ahead of us. There was also another pony, wearing a floppy brown hat and a similar, large coat, running for the train. He was much closer to it than us. The strange thing was, the train was being pulled by four ponies. Shouldn’t it be moving slowly enough for him to catch it?

Apparently, no; the train was getting farther and farther away, as was the pony. Rather than slow down, he pushed harder and actually started gaining on the train.

“Chance, come on!” I kicked hard into the dirt, leaving him behind. “If he can make it, so can we!”

Chance mirrored me and started running. Though we pushed harder, things were looking grim. The train was moving faster and getting further away. The pony ahead of us looked like he was slowing down. By the time we caught up to him, the train was but a dot in the horizon. There was no chance of us catching it now.

We stopped, coughing and wheezing, next to the pony.

“Damnit!” he shouted. “I swear, they left me here on purpose!”

“When will the train come back?” I asked.

“It won’t be back here for days!” He shook his head, stomped angrily on the ground, and continued walking.

Chance and I shared a confused look and followed him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m heading down the tracks, of course! I can’t wait here in Appleloosa for days on end!”

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

“It’s not going to be dangerous as long as the train doesn’t turn around. And, like I said, it’s not coming back for days. As long as I don’t fall off the edge, I should be golden.” He continued on. “If you want to come with me, be my guest. Or you could stay in Appleloosa, where it’s ‘safer’.”

Well, I didn’t have to ask to know what I wanted to do.

“Are you sure there isn’t some other way through to New Appleloosa?” I asked.

“Yeah. Junction R-7’s south of here, but it’s held by griffons at the moment. Not the nicest folk around.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a griffon.”

“That’s something you should continue doing. Every griffon I know is some sort of mercenary. It’s just better not to risk it.”

We finally ended up on the track, which was easy enough to trot on. And it was wide enough to merit Chance and I walking together, with some space left on the edges. This was fantastic, considering that it looked like a very, very large fall to the bottom of the gorge.

“Name’s Keep,” he said. “Well, it’s Finders Keepers, but you can call me Keep. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Odd. My friend’s name is Chance.”

He looked over his shoulder at Chance. “Why didn’t he say his name?”

Chance, in response, moved a little closer to me. “He’s a little shy around new ponies,” I answered. Chance glared at me and muttered ‘That’s not true.’

“So are you two friends or something?”

“Eeyup. We’ve been friends ever since we were four.”

He chuckled. “I guess the best kind of ships are friendships...” He glanced down at my PipBuck. “What Stable are you from?”

“Seventy-Five,” I answered.

He stopped in his tracks and turned completely around. I took notice of his PipBuck. “No kidding?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “We grew up in Seventy-Five.”

“And the Imps didn’t get a hold of you... Why?”

“Oh, we were put in some experimental Stable technology and stored alive for about a hundred years. Until just two days ago, actually.”

He just shook his head. “And I thought I’d heard everything...”

“What Stable are you from?” I asked.

“Ninety-Four.”

“Are there any Imps in there? Any Stable-Tec experiments?”

“All of the Stables were experiments, Odd. But, no, I don’t think we have anything along the lines of live-pony storage going on inside.”

“What do you mean, all of the Stables were experiments?”

“Well, my Stable is a trading kind of Stable. Whatever happens inside is dictated by who has how much money. Stable Two is supposed to stay in lockdown for a long time, still. Then there were other Stables where the ponies inside were used to test drugs or the effects of radiation or cultural clashes--”

“Wait, how do you know all of this?”

He chuckled. “Money goes a long way, Odd.”

That cut the conversation off quite effectively. We continued trotting along silently. I plugged in my PipBuck’s earpiece and turned on the radio. The same buck’s voice from when we were approaching Harmony Church came through.

“Hell-o, my little ponies! This is DJ P0n-3, and do I have some news for you! Remember a few days ago when I said two ponies crawled out of Stable Seventy-Five? Well, I’ve heard from a reliable source that those two weren’t just Imp slaves, but that they were actually living down there! Just when you thought the Wastes couldn’t throw another curveball, eh? Just goes to show that nothing is what it seems. I would wish them the best of luck, but considerin’ they got out of a Stable full of Imps without dyin’, I think my wish would be wasted.”

How did this pony know anything about us? I hadn’t noticed anyone following us. Wouldn’t it have been obvious if someone was keeping track of us?

“Hey, Keep, what do you know about DJ P0n-3?”

“Not much. Other than the fact that he broadcasts out of Tenpony Tower, I know nothing about him.”

“Tenpony Tower?”

“Some building in Manehattan,” he answered. “It’s just a really big, fancy hotel that rich ponies live in.”

Well, that was great. Now that I knew somepony was magically keeping tabs on me and Chance from a city miles away, I felt so much better.

I tuned back in to the radio.

“Now, I’m sure you all know about ghouls. Yes, those pony-eatin’, body’s-rottin’, good for nothin’ ghouls. They’re unfortunate enough to absorb massive amounts of radiation and live, and we discriminate against them because of this. But do you know what matters most of all? Even though they may look different from us, ghouls are ponies too. So before you go and kill every ghoul you see, stop and think: would you want a ghoul to kill you just because you’re a pony? No, I didn’t think so.”

Just then, what was unmistakably a ghoul pegasus mare flying a wagon through the air gently lowered herself down to our level to fly along beside us. I didn’t even know how she was flying. She didn’t have any wings (only stubs where they should have been)!

Keep started talking to her. “Hey there, miss Derpy! What brings you around these parts?”

“I was just heading back from Manehattan with the healing potion recipe I was talking to you about.” She glanced over at the two of us. “Who are your new friends here?”

I answered for Keep. “My name’s Odd.”

She giggled. “Well, aren’t you going to tell me anyway? Ponies call me Derpy and Bright Eyes, but I still tell them that. Your name can’t be that odd.”

“No, my name is Odd. It’s Odd Job.”

“And that pony there is his friend Chance,” said Keep. “He doesn’t talk much. Ain’t that right, Chance?”

He murmured a syllable in response, which was unusual. I knew Chance was kind of shy, but he wasn’t that shy. I turned to ask him if something was wrong, and I saw that he looked absolutely terrified. He had shied even closer to me and was now just barely looking past me with wide eyes. He was cautiously eyeing the pegasus that flew with us.

“Chance, what’s wrong?”

“There’s a zombie flying next to us!” he hissed. “What do you think is wrong?! And she’s a pegasus! Doesn’t that mean she’s with the Enclave?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

She must have heard us. “Ask me what?”

Chance whimpered and disappeared behind me, so I spoke for him. “He wants to know if you’re part of the Enclave, because you’re a pegasus and all.”

“It’s so easy to tell you two are new here, it’s not even funny,” Keep said. “There’s no way those elitists would let a ghoul join their rank. They wouldn’t even give her a chance, seeing as they shoot every ghoul they see.”

“Just a better reason to stay away from her...”

Derpy didn’t seem to notice Chance’s mumbling. “Do you three want a ride back to Appleloosa? I’ve got plenty of room in the wagon.”

Keep shrugged. “Sounds good to me. You two should probably come with us. I wouldn’t want the ghouls to get you.”

I took all of my willpower to keep Chance from throwing himself into the wagon.

“Alright, just let me set her down here, so you don’t have to jump or anything.”

I just don’t know what went wrong next. It appeared that Derpy just casually flew ahead of us and set the wagon down, but whatever she did caused a huge crack to appear. Against our better judgement, the three of us rushed forward. The crack widened even further. Then, the earth shifted. Chance jumped for it and managed to get inside of the wagon. Keep and I joined the moving earth and fell into the gorge.

Thank the goddesses our descent was more of a very steep slide, rather than a straight fall. Both of us seemed to be fine. The only thing of note was that my earpiece wasn’t properly connected anymore. A song blasted out of my PipBuck and echoed eerily off the gorge’s sides.

“Your cover’s blown -- nowhere to go --
Holding your fate...
Know that I will walk alone...
Fire your guns!
It’s time to run!
Blow me away!
I will stay with the mess I’ve made...
After the fall, we’ll shake it off!
Show me the way!”

And that’s when they appeared... They must have been ghouls. They matched Papa’s description perfectly: rotten skin, missing hair, and they definitely didn’t look sane. Their eyes were blank, but fixated.

They were fixated on us.

One ran at us, but had its head blown away by Keep’s gun. Its already dead body died once more, tipping over and thumping onto the ground. That seemed to be the signal for all hell breaking loose. Several more than what we could see rushed us from around a bend in the gorge. They were all running towards us now.

I panicked and dipped my head into my saddlebags. The nearest weapon I could find was my laser pistol. As soon as my head came out of the bag, the world turned green and froze.

This again... Yes, because S.A.T.S. worked so well for me the last time. Though, now I had some time to think and observe. I scanned the frozen Wastes and counted nine ghouls in all, excluding the one Keep had just shot. There were six of them heading for Keep and three coming for me.

I somehow managed to target all three of the ghouls that were running at me. I queued a shot on each of their heads. The screen then prompted me:

>Execute Queued Attacks? Y/N

Yes.

The green tint that had covered everything quickly disappeared, and things continued moving, but slowly. I pulled the trigger as each shot lined up, hitting two ghouls right in the head, and hitting the third one in the chest, which staggered it. It lunged at me, and in a panic, I flailed my hooves about. I felt and heard a heavy thud against my PipBuck. I dared open my eyes and found the ghoul now on the ground, almost entirely decapitated. My right forehoof was stained with blood.

Meanwhile, Keep had taken down all but one ghoul that had surrounded him. The last one lunged out at him and pulled him to the ground. Before my eyes, it lowered its head and bit down hard on his chest.

It ripped out a huge piece of flesh, and Keep screamed like I’d heard no one scream before.

I moved forward and shot a beam of light right through the ghoul’s head. It dropped, releasing Keep’s partially rended flesh.

I retched once more, and once more, nothing came out.

And he kept screaming...

I heard something heavy thud onto the ground next to me. It was Derpy, with wagon and Chance in tow. Chance jumped out as soon as he could and ran to Keep with a healing potion. Keep eagerly snatched the potion from him and chugged it. The hole in his chest shrank until the only thing left was a jagged, pale patch of skin.

“Agh.” Keep gasped. He sat up against the mass of fallen rock. “All my life, and I’ve gone without getting bit by one of those ghouls.”

I hurriedly shut off the radio on my PipBuck.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?”

“That was my fault, the ghouls attacking us. If I turned off my radio, that never would have--”

“Don’t be giving me that shit! I won’t have any of it!” He dusted himself off and stood up, crossly pointing a hoof at me. “They were around the corner. Even if you hadn’t made so much noise, they still would’ve gotten to us.”

“But I--”

“Ahem!” He glared at me briefly before going about the ghouls, searching them for whatever he wanted to search them for.

Chance walked up to me. “I’m glad you guys are okay.”

“Yeah,” I said half-heartedly. “I’m glad, too...”

Those were ponies. Those were ponies just like the Imps were ponies. And now I couldn’t get away from the fact that I’d killed ponies. Four of them lying on the ground before me were proof of that. Even though they would’ve killed me, I didn’t feel happier or better for killing them. The same goes with the Imps from a few days ago.

... I was confused.

“Okay, there’s nothing here. Let’s keep going.”

Nothing here... Nothing here but spent ammunition and ten dead ponies...

We hopped in the back of Derpy’s wagon and settled down amongst the sacks and boxes scattered about. Even though Chance seemed unnerved at the thought of flying, he was rather quiet. Keep had nothing to say, either. We flew for about ten minutes before coming back to earth.

Chance quickly hopped out of the wagon. I didn’t feel like being a burden for Derpy, so I joined him. Keep stayed in the wagon, looking like he was about to fall asleep. We caught up to Derpy as she continued walking (Chance still kept his distance from her).

Having met yet another new pony, I went through the pleasantries once more. She asked us our names, looked at us like we were crazy when we talked about Seventy-Five, and questioned us about how well we had fared so far.

“Other than problems with Slavers, we’ve been great,” I answered.

“What kind of problems?”

“Chance beat this one pony at a game of cards, and he threatened to kill him. Actually, that’s why we left Appleloosa. Then one of them held us up and we missed the train, so they’re not exactly my favorite kind of pony.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like them either.”

“Neither do I,” said Chance.

Keep snorted. “I didn’t know you talked!”

He mumbled something in response.

Keep turned himself around to look at Chance. “What was that? Do you have something to say to me? Say it loudly enough for me to hear it at least.”

“Leave him alone,” I said. “He’s been through enough today without you rustling him up.”

“He’s right, Keep. Listen to yourself,” said Derpy. “You’re being rude.”

He ‘hmph’ed. “It’s the silent ones you have to watch out for, if you ask me--”

“Good thing nopony asked you,” said Chance.

Keep stopped talking. He simply turned around and settled back down in the wagon. Chance assumed an expression of disgust and also stopped talking.

Derpy leaned over and whispered to me. “Your friend sounds a little upset. Is something bothering him?”

“Aside from Keep being an ass? I don’t think so. He was really upset about that Slaver earlier today, but other than that I--” No, there was something else. He had seemed pretty upset about what had happened this morning. I still didn’t understand why, though.

“You what?”

I shook my head, clearing it to get back to the discussion at hoof. “I... can’t think of anything else that would make him strike out at anypony so much. Normally he’s so... I don’t know. He’s just not this bad most of the time.”

“The Wastes get to everypony in a different way.”

Tell me about it...

The rest of our journey was entirely silent; even our hoofsteps didn’t make noise. But I guess that wasn’t a bad thing. Before I knew it, I could see what had to be New Appleloosa on the horizon.

To put it plainly, New Appleloosa did not look anything like Appleloosa. There were no catwalks or strings of lights, or even ponies. Even though night was approaching, in Appleloosa, there would be ponies milling about the streets. Other than Chance, Keep, Derpy, and I, there wasn’t anyone around.

“Is New Appleloosa abandoned, or something?”

Derpy sighed in response. “No... It’s just a very, very small town.”

“How long has it been around?”

“About a hundred years, give or take a decade.”

“I wonder why it hasn’t attracted more ponies. It looks much nicer than Appleloosa.”

“Oh, it’s no secret why there aren’t a lot of ponies here.” I looked over at Derpy to see that she had her head hung very low. She looked rather upset about the size of the town. “There isn’t any fresh water, there’s no real clinic, there’s nowhere to really settle down unless we find enough materials to build a new house. And there’s a ghoul living there.”

I assumed she was talking about herself. “But you seem like a very nice pony. I don’t see why anyone would think you living here’s not a good reason to live here.”

“You would be surprised how prejudice ponies can be about ghouls.”

“I--” I choked on what I was about to say. Earlier, hadn’t I briefly been afraid of her, simply because she was a ghoul?

Ghouls are ponies, too.

“But that’s all about to change,” she exclaimed, suddenly standing up straighter. “I’ve got that recipe for healing potions now, so I can head off into the Everfree to get the ingredients. Once ponies realize they can buy potions here, they’ll come more often. And when I get enough money, I’ll be able to hook up the water system with a purifier...” She shivered. “It’s all coming together.”

“You seem rather invested in the town,” I mentioned.

“Well, why wouldn’t I be? I did build it, after all.”

“Really?”

“Yes. After the war, I had a lot of time on my hooves, and I thought that it’d be a good idea to make a town that ponies could live in once the fallout settled. There was already a house here, so I lived in it while I built the rest of the buildings.”

“What are they used for?”

She looked at me. Maybe I just never noticed it, but her eyes looked a bit... Off. Before I could even think about asking her, though, they were back to normal. “Well, two of them are being lived in by other families. Then there’s a bathroom and shower room for mares and stallion, separate of course. And then there’s Absolutely Everything.”

“Didn’t you just say that Appleloosa has nearly nothing?”

She giggled. “No, that’s just the name of our little local store.”

I could make out six structures. There was one that wouldn’t even fit a pony. Then there were three that were roughly the same size -- all two-story. The remaining two were about the same size, but smaller than the other three. “Which building would that be?”

“It’s that one,” she said, pointing at the taller building in the center of the town.

When we were in the town proper, I could confirm that was the store. There was a window through which you could see stacks of... Junk? Regardless, the other buildings were empty. Two older ponies were on the porch to the side of the building, sleeping on rocking chairs. Other than that, it was only us.

The door of the building had a sign above it that read


Absolutely Everything





Yes, I do deliveries!


No hooves, nasty stingers? No service.


Ask me about special orders!




Derpy wriggled out from the wagon’s harness and went to unlock the door. Chance and I followed behind.

The inside of the store was exactly what the window had shown -- filthy. Pieces of paper covered just about every surface of the room (including the roof, even!), and any open space was reserved for... Merchandise. Random bits and pieces were scattered everywhere.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she flitted around. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”

“What’s all of this paper for?” I asked.

She shoved the pieces she had gathered so far onto the floor next to a terminal. “Oh, just a little project I’ve been working on. Don’t worry about me, just make yourselves at home.”

Keep stumbled in through the door. “By that, she means take the room upstairs and keep your hooves out of the merchandise unless you’ve already paid for it.”

I took that to heart and headed upstairs. There were two beds, and a set of lockers was stuffed away in the corner. Chance threw his stuff under a bed and shuffled onto it. He curled himself up and said nothing. I didn’t see a reason to disturb him.

I also didn’t see a reason not to do the same. It had been a long day, after all.

I had no idea that a rotten, old mattress could be so comfortable...





Side Note: Level Up
New Perk: BZZAP, Sizzle, PZZOP! - You never really wanted to shoot anyone, much less another pony, but you’ve found out that you’re rather good at it, especially with that little laser pistol you’ve got. +10 to Energy Weapons