> Fallout:Equestria - Clockworks > by ube > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: Pessimism > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- TINK, TINK, TINK! Everyday I hear that damn noise, it’s like my ears ring each morning. CLINK, CLINK, CLANK! My mother is always creating something, either it be some junk scrapyard that she found dumpster diving so she decided to make it into some damn cuckoo clock, or its metal sheets and she made a whole toy truck out of it.  CLURNK, CLANK, CLINK! The noises made my ears bleed, well not literally, but I grabbed my pillow and clenched it above my head. The softness only blocks out some of the noise, it made me feel like I was numb again. Rolling over, I pressed the side of my face on my pillow and glanced towards my leg. Now, this isn’t news or anything, it’s nothing even special either, but whenever I stare at my prosthetic it makes me feel so weak. It’s cogwheels spinning in place whenever I flex my muscle, and the fact that when I walk it makes this awful squeaky noise. My mom says I should oil it, but I’m too lazy to do any of that.  I might as well be lazy, I mean, it’s literally the aftermath of the end of the world. Everything only ever gets worse, and it never gets any better. My mother says it will, but I know it won’t, it’s just facts, and she’s only looking towards the future because she thinks it’ll be different and better.  “Someday, you might even change the world, Boxie.” My mother always told me, HAH! Yeah right. I rolled over on my back, staring up at the ceiling. It was a painted mural, I think my dad and I painted it together before he left. It's a beautiful splash of pink and yellow, touched with a bright pastel blue. It's still calming to me because it’s just a silly little picture of what I think a dog looks like, fuzzy and under the great blue sky with the rays of sunshine beaming down on him.  I always wanted a dog, but they went extinct years ago, just like my hopes of this wretched town. One time, I saw some homeless pony steal this kids block of cheese, he had steam emitting from his mechanic eyeball, so fucking freaky. I really wish that this megaspell just ended everything in existence, not just made everything half-dead or half-alive.  “BOXIEEE!” That’s my mothers voice, she’s always this loud– Either it be I’m far away or I’m in talking distance with her, she needs to yell. “BOXIE! COME LOOK AT WHAT I MADE!” Classic mother, she’s a tinkerer. She builds and creates, at least she’s creative. Sadly, it’s not something that's passed with genes I guess, because I’m the most boring pony alive. I blame my dad, he was a drunk, did nothing but complain, and when nothing went his way he would cry about how useless he is.  “BOXIE!” Her voice again, she’s screeching now. I better go and see what she needs, or moreso, wants. I slid off of my mattress, not even bothering to make my bed. My gray blanket touched the floor, I should really change the sheets but I never bother. Moving forward as my leg would make those sounds, squeaking and clicking. The brass shining from the glint of sun passing through the window.  I don’t ever look at my mirror, but today, I think it just feels like that kind of day. I stood right in front of my reflection, staring up towards the sticky note I made when I was only eight years old, “YOU CAN DO IT MUSIC BOX!” written on it with bright red crayon.  I didn’t gain sentience back then, that’s why I was so happy when I was a foal. My tired green eyes stared towards myself, that's me, a light yellow earth pony with messy livid mane. I brushed my grayish blue mane out of my eyes, only to scrunch my snout as well– I never liked seeing me, hearing me, and I still refuse to look at me. I grabbed the tarp that was behind my mirror, and draped it over. Gone from sight, hidden from mind.  Finally, I waltzed into the living room. Clocks everywhere, made from metal, brass, or anything that looks like it shouldn’t be pieced together. They were horrendous to look at the wall every morning, and think of how I feel when I want to get a late night snack, and this terrible cuckoo clock comes COO-COOOOING at me! I wish my mother got rid of this garbage, it's all useless junk anyways. The only useful stuff I see her make is what she hooves over to some company-ponies, she always looks so sad when she gives them away though, I try not to bother in her money-making.  My eyes slowly moved to my mom’s new thingamajig, it was– something.  “Whot is it?” I asked, I was blunt and my voice sounded uninterested as it always does. My mother is used to it though, she likes to say that it makes me sound mature.  She held up the contraption, “It’s a humidifier!” She showed me, it was practically all over the place. Tubes went in and out of the small box, and a windup key in the back of it was what could possibly start the thing up. “Watch!” My mother excitedly giggled, twisting the key. CRRRK, CRRK, CRRK. The box then began to emit air from the tubes, however, after a few minutes it would stumble and bumble. Flicking open the lid as smoke made the poor thing implode in on itself. My mother on the other hoof, was covered with dust. She snorted, and began to laugh, placing the item on her desk as she went right back to work. “All is fun in failing and working!” My mother told me with the most childlike expression on her face. “Sure, mother.” I rolled my eyes, plopping myself down on the couch as I gazed out the window. Low and behold, there’s already a stallion duking it out with another, one bashing the other on the concrete ground and the bigger one coming back just to throw him on the muddy pile. What’s this all for? A fucking piece of mint. It was not just any mint however, it tasted fresh but those sweets can make a grown stallion kill an infant for just another hit. It was laced, drugging these poor ponies and creatures to depend on it.  “Boxie?” My mothers voice again, however, she wasn’t actually yelling. It was a soft voice, oh no– This is most likely going to be another awkward parent-child talk that I didn’t want to do.  “Yeah?” I hesitantly replied, my eyes looking towards her. She had her back turned to me, she was still working on that garbage. Why’d I even turn around? I eventually looked back out the window.  “When are you going to go back to working on things, again?”  “What?” My brows furrowed. “Well, you have a talent for making things.” There she goes, “I don’t see why you can’t put it to use.”  “I don’t have any talent.” I reiterated– I’ve said this many times before actually and this conversation genuinely feels like deja vu. “I never had one to begin with, I only got it because I made something for once. After that, everything else was just as useless as what you make for a hobby.” I think I was too mean when I said that, I could hear my mom gulp down before she’d set down her tools next to the box.  I felt bad, my upper eyelids lowering, “I’m sorry,” I muttered.  “It’s okay, love.” Mother replied, it wasn’t okay. She sounded upset, but she didn’t have the heart to insult or scold me, she was a pushover like that. “I’ll stay quiet now.” The loud tinks I would usually hear was way quieter now, but it didn’t feel any better. I think I preferred it when her hammering was in my ears.  To avoid my guilt, I went into my room and closed the door.  I wouldn’t fucking slam it, I’m not some child anymore, I’m twenty.  I made my way to the closet, and picked out a random vest and undershirt. It was the most boring clothes, fit for a mare like me. A striped dark brown vest on top of a white blouse, paired with an equally brown ribbon-tie. I think all I needed was my bag, and my hat.  Quietly, I trotted out my room. The hat that I usually wore is my mom’s favorite, she made it herself after all. It had gears that went around it, as well of a small cogwheel that would move if I made any quick movements. It was pretty cool, I think the coolest thing my mom has made yet. I grabbed my satchel, making sure that it was snug over my shoulders and placed the hat ever so gently on my head. I didn’t know how I looked, but I didn’t care.  Opening the door, I could hear the hammering stop.  “Boxie?” My mother again, she always calls me ‘Boxie’, never Music Box.  “Yes?”  “Please,” There was a pause, “Please, be safe.”  I don’t know why she doesn’t trust me by myself still, I can take care of myself very well. I bit my lip, I was wondering if I should just say nothing at all. However, I gave in.  “I will.” I replied, before closing the door and locking it. Hello, outside.  > Chapter 2: Magnetism > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My hooves quickly clacked down the stairs, it was so empty in this staircase that even a small mouse could be heard through the walls. Opening the door to the world, I suddenly remembered– I hate being outside!  But, being out here is the only way I could get entertainment. My mother refuses to make, or even buy a telly, let alone a radio. The stallions that were fighting each other from before were already getting arrested, their mint being confiscated.  Usually that means the product isn’t even theirs to begin with, sucks to be them, huh?  I looked behind myself, making sure that the door to the apartment was locked. My apartment isn’t some posh mare’s household, queen’s no! I live in the fucking slums, and my mother’s apartment always looks like it’s gonna collapse at any moment.  The apartment was leaning on its side, bricks and cement chipped on every corner. The ugly graffiti written on the top of the door is still there, read it out loud, and you’re sure to get arrested.  “FUCK BOOTLICKERS” is what it said, I always snicker at it. Personally, I like the ugliness, it really adds to the whole ‘being poor’ aesthetic.  Spinning on the back heel of my hoof, I’d trot forward to the nearby bodega. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a corner store. We have a bodega cat too, her name is Stacy, the owner installed a mechanical back leg to her so in a sense, we’re matching. Only difference is I’m crippled at the front, and Stacy is at the back. At least she’s cute though.  “Musiiiic Booox!” A familiar voice to me called out my name, it was just old Racket. His real name is Racket Clanket, but this guy is so old that I think he lived a century by now. He had steam shooting out from his brass back, his gray beard almost reaching the dirt and his eyes squinting towards me. Poor guy was going blind I figured, soon he's gonna need to get installments on his eyes too.  “Alright? Nice to see you’re kickin’ gramps.” I jested, I don’t want to see this old fart drop dead anytime soon.  “Oy, right! I won’t die, not yet laddy.” He chuckles, slowly moving to the desk and register he works at. He always mistakes me for a stallion, I don’t really mind though. My eyes looked around for Stacy, she wasn’t here. Usually she props herself up on the desk whenever a customer shows up. “Where’s Stacy?” I asked Racket.  “Ohhh,” Old Racket muttered, rubbing at his beard with his hoof. That doesn’t sound good, “IIII–I don’t know, laddy. Some kids ran off with ‘er, I tried to catch up to ‘em but, you know me son, can’t run.” “Whot?” I asked, my eyes almost bulging out of my face. “Some fucking rugrats took ‘er? Fucking foals, they can’t pick a roach up the ground and eat ‘at instead?!” I was pissed, royally so I’d like to think. You don’t fuck with cats, and especially not old Racket’s cat, shes a lovely tuxedo and I’d rather them die old together than her end up on some kid’s plate. “Do you remembah which way they went, gramps?”  “Errr..” He grumbled, oh, don’t tell me this guy is losing his memory as well. I pleaded to whoever was listening to me, give me some kind of hint, “Errr, eehhh–yeah.” Oh, thank the nonexistent queen! “ ‘Ey took ‘er to an alley, but some kids were standin’ guard, I couldn’t take ‘em on ‘m own.” I furrowed my brows, and tugged on my satchel, “Don’t worry, gramps, I’ll ‘et Stacy back.”  “Son, you don’t have–” I stopped him, “She’s my cat too, I’ve been goin’ to this place since I was eight, and I’ve been seein’ her since I was eight! I’m gonna get ‘er!” I cared more about that cat than my own self, Racket himself looked surprised. He waved me off, and stared down towards his register, “Well, good luck, lad.” He didn’t sound like he believed in me, and to be frank, I don’t either.  However, I’ve already made my decision, and I was on my way towards that alley he supposedly said those rascals were at.  Eventually, I made my way to this stinky and smelly alley. Felt more like the sewers than an alleyway. There were dumpsters that hadn’t had their trash thrown out in probably five months, little robot flies buzzing around the stench that wavered off of it. Like gramps said, there were some foals standing guard in the entrance. They were the size of my two legs, but they looked like they’d been used for punching bags.  One foal had his eye taken out I assume, and a scar that ran across the top of his forehead to the bottom of his right cheek, he was wearing this potato sack bag that had holes patched up. The other was a filly, she was missing two front teeth and had bandages wrapped around her two forelegs. Although they looked tough, that doesn’t mean they are tough.  I trotted towards the two, and in an instance they recited something like it was out of a script.  “HALT!” They yelled at me, “ONLY FOALS ARE ALLOWED HERE!”  I decided to lie, “I am a foal.” And the filly snorted, “Nuh-uh, you’re a fuckin’ senior citizen!” Okay, they got eyes at least, it was most likely my bags under my eyes that gave it away. Damn insomnia!  “Okay, ya got me,” I said, “But I ain’t fockin’ old ya twats, O’I’m fockin’ twenty!” I huffed. The two laughed at me, this feels like I was on the playground again. “You’re ancient! Fock off!” The colt scowled at me.  I gritted my teeth, “Fine, no more Mr.Nice Mare.” I stomped my leg on the ground, the gears spinning rapidly as steam emitted from the corner of the metal parts, “Oi know you got a cat ‘ere, she’s black ‘en white, ‘en she's got cute blue eyes with a mechanic leg– So you both either tell me, or I’m–” Then, the filly cut me off, “Or what?” She didn’t even let me finish my sentence!  “I’ll–”  “You’ll grow more wrinkles?!” The colt snarkingly replied.  “No, I’ll–”  “You’re gonna give us crows feet!?” The filly popped her bubblegum at me as she’d let out a burst of laughter.  This– This is humiliating.  I sucked my teeth in, I couldn’t take it anymore! I hate these fucking foals, and I hate that they’re making fun of every little thing on my face. Raising my leg, I gave the filly a slap to the face.  THWACK! The filly fell on her flank, and tears swelled up in her eyes. It felt good for a moment, only to realize– Aw fuck, I fucking hit a kid. The colt stomped his little legs towards me, and then went to reconcile with his friend, “You’re deranged, miss!” He yelled at me. The filly wailed, “WAAAAAHHH!” Sobbing her poor little lungs out. “I–uhh..” I awkwardly stuttered. “You’re fuckin’ mental! It’s okay, Ribbons!” I shrugged it off, and quickly trotted closer to their hideout. “HEY! You can’t just–” “WAAAAAAAAAAH!” There’s the filly again, and the colt was right back to trying to calm her down.  At least it worked. Their den was like a bootleg fortress. Candles that were burnt out were all over the place, pillow fortresses which made it seem like they were meant to be tents, and sweets wrappers that covered the bottom of the ground. This was a foal’s playpen.  “YOU!” A pitched voice yelled from somewhere, they didn’t even hit puberty yet!  I looked around for who yelled for me, the blankets were all shut and I stared forward. There were curtains that were tied from one building to another, and slowly the drapes opened up.  It revealed a colt with a paper crown, white coat with brown spots and dark blue mane. His golden eyes staring down at me like he was the next prince in the bloodline. On his lap however? It was Stacy! She didn’t even look a touch wounded, or thank the queen, EATEN!  “WHY ARE YOU HERE? AND WHY HAVE YOU SLAPPED ONE OF MY GUARDS, YOU MUPPET!” My ears lowered, and I scrunched the corner of my snout. “Your guards were making fun of me.” I replied.  “That’s because you’re an old dunce!” The fake prince snarled. To be fair, I am a dunce, but I’m not that old!  “Listen–listen–” I shook my head, I’m not about to slap another foal in the face. “O’Im just here for Stacy.”  “Who the FOCK is Stacy?” The colt huffed as he was petting Stacy on her fluffy forehead. It looks like she didn’t care though. “The cat on your lap!” I responded. “ ‘Er name isn’t Stacy, ‘er name is Flufflekins the Fifth!” He smiled, holding up Stacy and then turning her on her side to rub her belly. “Mrrrrow..” Stacy purred, “And she’s moi cat.” He smirked.  “She’s not your cat!” I called out, pointing towards him.  “Whot?! Yes she is! We found ‘er on the streets! My guards said so.”  “Your guards are lying!” I looked around towards the tents, foals were sticking their heads out. “The cat is named Stacy, an’ she belongs to the bodega owner, Racket!” I spoke my heart out to the child, I don’t know if he's gained the ability to feel empathy but I am trying my best. “Imagine bein’ tha’ old and your only frien’ is a cat! That cat! He’s tha’ reason she can walk on four legs, and she’s tha’ reason he’s still walkin’ at all, that he even gets out of bed!” My voice softened, reaching my forelegs up to the colt. “Please, give ‘er back. He needs her back.”  I could see the colt ponder, and his face eventually turned from a smug smirk to a frown– Then that devilish grin again, “He’s gonna die anyways, so I don’t care! BLEH!” He stuck his tongue out at me, “GUARDS, arrest her!” He extended his leg towards me as more foals marched out from their tents.  I hate foals. So, so much.  On an instinct, I grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pebble. Launching the pebble up towards the colt’s head in hopes that it’ll at least hit him on his noggin. Just like I learned with my last lesson, is that I should always enact violence on foals. The pebble smacked him dead in his eye, “OWWWUUUUH!” He cried out, and Stacy’s hair stood up as she ran down his lap and out of the alleyway. The foals tried to catch her, but catching an animal like her is like catching a slime of gloop, she’s just too slick. As the boy whined about his eye, I decided it was my time to head out.  Unlike these foals, my legs are fully grown and I simply could run faster than they ever can. I ran out of the alley, chasing after Stacy, past the two guards. On my way out however, I accidentally knocked the kid I slapped in the face, I could hear her crying again. “Sorreh!” I apologized, not looking back as I galloped after Stacy. Out of breath, we eventually reached our destination. Luckily for me, it was Stacy’s home. The bodega, and it was already getting dark. Stacy jumped towards the desk that old Racket was moping on, and I could see his face light up when he saw her.  “Staceh!” He chuckled, roughly petting the cat on her head. He could give a rat's ass about me, I was huffing and puffing over here. “Fwuuhh.. Y–You’re welcome,” I exhaled loudly, “Racket.”  “Thanks, laddy.” He gave me that precious old guy smile, “I’m givin’ you a discount for tha’ next three days for findin’ her. Y’er a good kid, y’er mom is proud of ya, I bet.” My slight smile eventually returned back to my monotone expression– Right, mom.  “Yeah,” I gulped down on my saliva, and fixed my hat which was crooked from all that running. “I–It’s getting late, I think I’ll be goin’ now.” I gave a wave towards the stallion, my eyes breaking eye contact with him as I’d begin my way back home. It’s only a few blocks north, but I didn’t really want to face my mom after what I said to her today.  Staring up, I could see the steam creating clouds of fog that hovered over this town. Where I lived was called Porkobelly Road, and it used to be a road before a certain corporation decided to take over and build their factories here. The citizens here built our own houses, apartments, but it was never anything fancy compared to how the creatures uphill live. I always envied them. I wish I lived in a nice house where I had my own little fireplace, a classic nuclear family, and a mom that’s gadgets weren’t obscure.  Soon enough, I had made my way back home, but there were griffons with tuxedos standing outside, and a stallion with this horrendous goatee. I figured it was just some scandal again, but as I got closer, I could see the griffon clenching my mom’s leg tight in his grip.  She was being questioned, forcefully.  “Where’s the gun, Mrs.Trinket?” The stallion asked my mother, “WHERE are our PRODUCTS?” The griffon clenched my mother’s leg so hard, she yelped; I could see blood being drawn from her foreleg.  “LET GO OF MY MOM!” I yelled out, stomping my leg towards them. All three of them turned their heads around to look at this wimpy mare, and my mom with the most tired expression on her face. She wasn’t smiling like she always was, she looked scared and hopeless, but she tried to fake a smile as best as she could this time. “B–Boxie, please just go upstairs,” She murmured. “No, mom! What are they doing to you– with you! Let go of her!” I screamed at them, at any moment I wanted to lunge at them.  “This your daughter?” The stallion smirked, eyeing me up and down like I’m his food. “She’s grown well.”  “You’re old, back off, fockface!” Fucking creep, looking at me like that. My mother didn’t seem too amused, and she was shaken around like some ragdoll. He threatened her, “Where’s the fucking products, and nothin’ bad will happen to her.”  “To me? You fockin’--” I took another step forward, but the moment that I did, the other griffon made his way towards me and grabbed me by the neck. He forced me to the ground, my face being rubbed with dirt and grime. “Fhuck–! Shtupid,” My voice muffled as the griffon showed no care, and I could hear my mother sobbing. My eyes widened as I listened, I felt paralyzed.  I felt weak.  “Please–please, don’t do anything to her, please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt my daughter!” My mom begged with the stallion. My eyes peered up, and I could see his face. His shit-eating grin. “Anything?” I heard him say, he looked towards the griffon that was holding her and they began to pull her away from the scene.  “STOP! SCHTOP!” I cried out, tears formed in my eyes and eventually ran down my cheeks. “PLEASCHE! MOM, DO SOMETHING!” I tried to move, I really did, but the griffon was heavier and he is stronger than I am. I kicked my hindlegs around, pleading, “MOM! MOM!” The tears fogged my eyes as everytime I blinked, I could see her getting farther away.  Somehow, out of pure luck, my hindleg bucked the griffon in his stomach. He grunted, “Rghh–” But, didn’t budge. Snot spurted from my nostrils, and as I cried out one more time for my mother. “MOM!” THWACK!  Everything went dark.  Fluttering my eyes open, nopony or creature was here. No mom, no griffons, no stallion. I shakingly heaved myself up, staring down at the ground. I pressed my leg around, feeling the dirt as I felt something cold touch the bottom of my hoof.  It was a happy-face pin.  The company took my mother. ‘Cheers and’ fucking ‘Love Co.’. > Chapter 3: Altruism > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My vision still felt blurry, my leg was making all the sounds of jittering noises. It probably had gotten damaged when the griffon shoved me to the ground. I shut my eyes tight, feeling the creases in the corner of my face brunch up, it stung; That’s what I get for crying in the first time of ten years.  “Mom?” I called out, I don’t know why I did. I just thought that it could have just been some weird nightmare, that my mom actually didn’t get stolen from these creatures out of nowhere, “Momma?”  That I wasn’t alone. “Mom?” My voice was hoarse, I could feel the soreness already building up in my tonsils. I didn’t like this feeling, that my mother wasn’t here with me and that I couldn’t do anything to help her. I had to hear her plead for my life to be spared as my mom was slowly removed from my vision. It’s a worse feeling than when dad left, because at least I tried to stop my mom from leaving– from being taken away.  I stood in the cold for a good five minutes listening to nothing. I knew there were some hoofsteps clacking around in the corners of my ears because ponies are usually awake at this time; However– my ears and mind, they blanked them out. All I could do was stare at the horizon of where I last saw my mother. Everything genuinely felt numb, like time had stopped.  I remembered that I had the pin in my hoof still, the circular and smooth texture snapping me back into reality as I glared down at the pin.  This was all I had left to remember her? Some stupid fucking pin from a dumb fucking company with too much power for their own good?  “FOCK!” I screamed out, biting my tears. I was stressed, I have no idea what to do here. I’m just a mare from Porkobelly, a mare who can’t do anything useful on her own! What was I supposed to do, now?  I let out an exhale through my nostrils, turning around I could see some ponies staring at me.  “You live ‘n this focking town, you see all sorts of shit, but a focking mare having a mental breakdown is tha’ weirdest thing you’ve seen? FOCK YOU!” I lashed my anger out on them, granted they could have been staring at something else but my anxiety was spiked so high that I just needed to scream, I just needed to yell at someone that wasn’t myself.  I barged through the apartment door, the metal panel that held the door together actually falling off from it. I swear I’m not that strong, it's just that the apartment is falling apart, and I’m not going to get fined by the landlord, not today at least. Hopefully, nopony has seen me do that.  I furiously stomped upstairs pushing through oddities of items that my mother had built in her past, it felt heartbreaking knowing these would probably be the last actual things that I will see in this house from her. I rummaged through her items, tossing an auto broom behind me, a few teapots that were supposed to apparently ‘cure depression’ , and a brass makeshift dog that could only do backflips. My mom was an inventor, a creative, and a lot of these brought memories back to me. I held the fake dog in my legs; I remember this one. I always mentioned how I wish dogs were more accessible here, my mother spent all night and morning working on this silly thing. She only managed to make it do backflips, it couldn’t even bark.  I twisted the key that was on its metal back, frrrk, crrrrk, crrrrk. The toy was rusty, but it slowly moved its front paws forward and its hindlegs back. The thing tried to do its backflip yet it failed miserably, slamming the side of its face on the cold floor. I could hear the cogs slowing down, crrrrick, clickkkk, crrrrcrrrickcrrrickk–ick. I felt bad for it, it didn’t have any feelings– fuck, it wasn’t even sentient. However, I still felt bad that it couldn’t do what its intended purpose was. I gently placed it back in its box as I felt steel brush against my foreleg inside of the box.  Probably another artifact that my mother made. I wonder what it was this time, maybe it was a small blimp that fed you spaghetti? A portable robot roach? I gripped the shaft of the item, it was heavy.  “Huugh–” My teeth clenched, it was REALLY heavy!  “ARGHGHH!” I groaned as I managed to pull the thingamajig out of the box. I fell back as I watched the thing flung over my head and into the wall. “Shitshitshit–” I was praying that it didn’t leave a dent in the wall. As I brought myself up from the floor, I finally got to look at what I pulled out. Holy. Fucking. SHIT! It was a gun, a sniper rifle to be exact. There were three lenses on the bridge of the gun, its brass and silver made it look decadent. I have no idea how to use a gun, actually, I’ve never seen a gun until today! My mom, she made an actual fucking gun! These are illegal, the only creatures that could wield one are part of ‘CHEERS AND LOVE CO.’ or they are mercenaries, rangers, or just wanderers that don’t actually live in Great Bridle. Citizens can’t own these, it's against the law in case anypony would try to rebel against the bossman himself. My eyes sparkled at the sight of it as I slowly moved my legs over to touch it. My hoof softly passed over the shiny metal parts, touching it I could feel a few bumps on the corner of the cartridge. I took a gander at it and there’s my mom's signature.  “Mrs.Trinket” written on it in cursive.  I pulled out the gun from my wall, I could see the scopes shining at me, it looked brand new. I eventually had to lay it back on the floor, it’s still too heavy for me. I just kept staring at it in awe.  KNOCK, KNOCK. That made me jump almost comically, hitting the top of my head from the surprise.  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! Shit, someones at the door! My eyes darted left and right as I kicked boxes over by the gun, and ripped the throw blanket from the couch. I covered the gun, the boxes too that were around it. “Coming!” I yelled, please don’t be the fucking bootlickers. I peered through the peephole, in the fisheye angle I let out a breath of relief. Opening the door was a unicorn, her long purple mane covering the left side of her face, her light purple coat and freckles easily showing off her blush that spread from one cheek to another.  “Aye, Bellflower.” This was Blush Bellflower, she's my neighbor as well as a childhood friend. She’s always blushing here because Porkobelly is never hot, it's always cold, or just damp and wet. “W--What’s goin’ on?” I asked her, she was at my door.  “I–I heard you scream outside,” Oh, she heard that? “And the–then you were making alot of noises in here, I–I thought you were in trouble.” The shy mare muttered, avoiding eye contact with me. “Are… Are you um, okay?”  She always worried about me, but I was always the one to save her in trouble. She would let some ponies push and shove her, and I had to come over and threaten them with my metal leg. She’s always been the shy kid, and she always will be a quiet kid despite us being in our twenties now.  “Yeah,” I responded, looking back to the corner of my living room and then back to her, “ ‘m fine Bell. Bye–” I tried to slam the door on her, but she used her magic to stop the door from shutting on her face.  “I–I saw what happened to your mom, do you need c–company?” She asked me, and she gave me those damn puppy eyes. I quickly looked away from her great blue eyes.  “No, I ‘on’t, Bell.” I tried once more to shut the door, “Bye–” Once again, she stops it. I think she's gotten more persistent as we got older, and only specifically to me. “I’m always here for you, B-Box,” She puckered her lips, “Um, you can tell me anything, you know, because– because– I’m–”  Cutting her off, I blurted. “Listen, Oi really ‘ave to piss, ‘en you’re holdin’ ‘m up, sorry.” Not sorry, I shut the door on her face quickly before she could even use her magic to hold it again.  “Okay, um, I’ll be here! In my… Apartment, if you need me. Bye.” Her muffled voice told me through the door. Stubborn lass she is.  I hurriedly went back to the gun, undraping it as I took one more gander.  I remembered that the stallion was asking my mother where the gun was. If my math is right this is sure to be what he’s talking about, and what a beaut this thing is! I would threaten someone's mom for this too, but I have to also remember, they took my mom.  I went over to my mother’s desk, it looks like her next plans were making a small makeshift companion. It was a cube with legs, but knowing how the dog went about, I don’t think there would be any high expectations from this either. Reading over the plans I could see her writing like, ‘Maybe bigger?’ or ‘Husband-o-meter’. That made me giggle, and my eyes had laid set on this one sentence. ‘A friend for Boxie’. My smile had left the room, and I could feel my ears fold back behind my hat. I didn’t know I seemed that lonely to my mother, because I wasn’t! I don’t think I am. Nonetheless, I’m not going to dwell on myself when I have a bigger mission at hoof.  Finding my mother. I mean, if I could find some dumb cat from some stupid kids; I can surely find my mother. Besides, without her here, I won’t have any dinner tonight and I was looking forward to spaghetti day. I scavenged through other boxes, finding a duffel bag that was old and dusty. Sniffing it, I almost gagged at the old stallion smell. This was surely my dad’s, maybe before I was born.  This will do however, I stuffed a few other contraptions that my mom had made just in case, a pen, and I cannot forget the sniper rifle that was laying on the floor still. I shoved all the boxes away and wrapped the gun in my throw blanket as I gently rested it inside the duffel bag.  I think I’m ready now.  I need to find my mother, and I’m going to find her. I spun the keys to the apartment around in my tail as I slowly trotted to the door. I took one last look behind myself, the clocks, the weird items that made this place what it was. Why did I feel like I was going to miss it? I’ll only be gone for a few weeks.  I twisted the doorknob and opened it, however, as soon as I did; I had almost bumped right into Bellflower. “Bell!” I huffed.  I thought she had left, but surprise surprise, the mare was still there. She eyed my bag and began to pester me with all sorts of questions. “What are you doing with th–that?” She asked, “A–Are you running away?” She questioned, “Where a-are you going?” I clicked the key into my apartment, locking and shutting it tight. “B-Box, can I come?”  “No.” I hissed, the gears on my hat spinning clockwise.  “W–Why not! I care for you, because I-I-I,” She tried to get her words out.  “I ‘on’t care why you care, Bell. ‘s not safe.” I began to trot down the stairs, the hoofsteps doubling the echo as she was trailing right behind me.  “Well, I’m following you anyways,” She spouted bullshit, “I want to!”  Rolling my eyes, I let out a scoff as I kept on moving. “Bell, you’re gonna ‘et scared by some fockin’ mouse before you’d dip w’th ‘m.”  Bell puffed out her cheeks, and she raised her leg, smacking me on my arm. She then repeatedly began to hit me but to me, Bell was a soft pillow. She’s the only pony that can’t knock me on my ass in two seconds.  “Y–You’re so mean, let me come with you, Box!” She complained.  I clenched my teeth and furrowed my brows, giving in just so she could stop yapping. “Ok!” I pushed the tip of my hoof on her chest, “Only if you ‘hut up! Stop talkin’! Zip it!”  And so she did, Bell I guess was one of my first companions now on this shitty journey. It won’t take long. I kept thinking to myself, this won’t take long at all. Soon, Bell and I will be back home in within’ a day, resting and ready for another boring fucking month in Porkobelly.  Her and I trotted forward, along the road she kept staring at me with the biggest and shiniest eyes. It was mildly uncomfortable to say the least, but all we had to do was just keep walking.  First stop was heading to the bodega, you know, Racket’s and Stacy’s bodega.  “Wh–Why are we here? Isn’t he… C–Creepy?” Bell asked me, cowering behind my back.  “Why? Because ‘e ‘as a fockin’ brass back an ‘e can’t see, Bell?” I responded, “‘On’t be ableist, Bell.” I know that's not what she meant, but it’s easy to shut her up that way. I heard a small squeak behind me. “Eep!” It was just Bell again, that was her ‘I’ll shut up’ noise. I rang the bell to the bodega, tugging on the string and quickly jutting it left and right as it rang through the neighborhood.  However, there was no answer. I let my eyes scan the area, and I took notice of a small sign on the door.  ‘GONE WALKING STACY’.  Well, fuck. The only place I like buying my stuff from is out walking his fucking cat. To top it off, my back is already hurting and I want to go back home now. “Welp,” I sucked my teeth and turned on my leg. “I guess we’re goin’ to tha’ next town.” I told Bell, her eyes widened.  “W–What!” She sounded shocked, I already told her that this wasn’t for her didn’t I?  “I ‘an’t buy nothin’ nowhere else.” I responded, beginning to make my way to the next road. She quickly skedaddled next to my side.  “Can’t you just buy somethin’ from the other shops?” She asked me.  Hah, the queen's ass I would! “Every shop ‘ere is owned by the smiley focks.” I answered while continuing my walk, “I ain’t spendin’ a single cap to any of ‘em.”  “B–But!” And then I stopped in my tracks.  “I ‘old you if you wanted to walk with ‘m, then you can’t fockin’ complain Bell.” And she gulped her last words. I just wanted peace while I was here, even if it meant shutting this sweetheart up. I gave her another glance and I could see that she was staring at the ground as she trotted, trying to hold back a sniffle. Really? I let out a sigh, tilting my head upwards towards the fog and then back at her, “You can talk in the ‘ext town.” And she giggled, rubbing her side of her face on my shoulder. Gross.  “Thank you, B–Box!” She happily chuckled, my lips puckered as I reminded her.  “I told you, the ‘ext town.”  “Right, sorry.” She muttered. “ ‘ext town.” I said again. She shut up, only for a second. “What’s the next town?”  And I groaned, “Bonesmouth Valley.” That sounded scary, but I’ve been there before, it’s at least prettier than Porkobelly. Eventually, Bell had stayed quiet, and we were walking to our next destination.  The next stop, Bonesmouth Valley. > Chapter 4: Pragmatism > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bell and I were on our own now. Getting from Porkobelly to Bonesmouth isn’t as far, but it is tiring walking on our hooves.  All I know about Bonesmouth Valley is that it’s a merchant area. You’re always bound to find a shop selling something, either it be toys, bootleg prosthetics, bootleg company items, or company items itself, either way, you are going to find something that you might want to buy. I’ve gone there twice; Once when I was ten, I remember coming with my mother to buy some trinkets and scraps from this old stallion. He smelled bad, and he also talked with an horrendous accent. I think he unlocked a new fear inside of me that thankfully I’ve grown out of. The other time was when I was sixteen, I’ve just gotten out of school and my classmates dragged me along to participate in the market fair.  I didn’t find any of it fun. They just forced me along because they thought it would get closer to me, but that market fair was so tiring and exhausting. I felt so mentally drained before and after. They expected me to empty my pockets for them, and when I declined them, they kept talking about how I’m just no fun to be around, and that’s why everypony doesn’t want to talk to me during class. That I was lucky to hang out with them today.  Thinking about that made me clench my teeth, I hate remembering their stupid faces.  I looked over to Bell who was quiet for once. Our hooves that were pressing against dirt and grovel, had then transferred to stomping on concrete. Looking up, we could see the big sign. “BONESMOUTH VALLEY” Written on the wood with a bold black. Next to it however, there was a silly conversation ponies were perhaps having on the board. “Fucking hate this place.” One was written, then another below it. “Better than Yorkieshire.”  “Kill yourself.” It was crossed, but I could easily read it out.  An arrow was drawn below it, pointing up to the last sentence, “Lives in Yorkieshire.”  A giggle slipped from me, how fucking amusing it is to see some creatures bark at eachother even without seeing one another’s faces. The lengths ponies would go to just to banter together. It’s fucking hilarious, innit?  “Well,” I tilted my head to the side, “We’re here.” And then I looked back towards the bottom of the small hill we were on. There were already tents pitched up, buildings towering over the valley of shopkeepers and customers, as well as the bustling of voices being mixed together.  Bell on the other hoof, looked nervous. I can tell she didn’t want to be here, mainly because of the massive influx of ponies. Nonetheless, I do not want to waste any more time than we have so I trotted downwards. I knew Bell was following close behind because I could hear her quickly catching up to me.  We made it into town, and we were already getting bombarded by salesponies. “GROW YOUR MANE BACK! BALD SPOT? NO LONGER THERE AS OUR NEW MAKE IT MANE BACK WORKS WONDERS ON YOUR HEAD!” Yells a pony.  “Need something to pep your step? Make the stallions whistle? Our new perfume will do just that.” Says a mare, walking past I could take a whiff. Ugh. I shuddered, the stench was strong and it wasn’t even a pleasant smell. In fact, it reminded me of dead fish in the washed up sea that decided to eat a bunch of trash for breakfast. I took a peek, side eyeing the mare and I could see a poor sap buying into the shitty perfume.  Poor gal, she’s going to have all the stallions running away from her.  I felt a tug near my shirt, “B–Box?” It was just Bell, she was muttering, “Box..” I did tell her that she could talk while we’re here. I looked over at the shy mare.  “What now, Bell?” It was probably something that caught her eye, maybe a pretty necklace.  “L–Look,” She whispered, raising a leg to point towards the bread merchant. She was an old gramma, wrinkly and hunched over as she was slowly counting her caps. I raised an eyebrow, I see nothing wrong with that. “Over there.” Bell said, I squinted over as she was directly pointing at a hooded pony. I again once saw no problem, before I realized that the pegasus was stuffing bread in the insides of their coat. Now, stealing usually isn’t that crazy, but stealing from some grandma and let alone, this market doesn’t even belong to the shitty company. She’s just some gramgram making a living.  “HEY!” I announced my voice to the world, of course, no one batted an eye. “HEY, YOU! IN THE FOCKING BLACK COAT!” A stallion pointed towards himself, “BOLLOCKS NOT YOU!” Then he shrugged, and I raised my leg towards the bread-stealer. “YOU! YOU DUNCE!”  The hooded pony finally looked up, I think I could see the shock in the darkness that would be his face. He stumbled back, tripping over a few baskets and crates as the stallion made a run for it.  “B–Box, we aren’t going to–” Bell worriedly muttered before I tugged her along.  “WE HAVE TO CATCH ‘EM!” I yelled towards her, trotting behind the hooded stallion. Bell let out a sigh.  “Oh, the things I do for love.” Bell would chase after me, who I was chasing after him.  Usually, I couldn’t give a nanny’s hoot about someponies shit being stolen. It’s just– I can’t sit back and watch it happen to a granny. I feel like I’m taking part of the thievery myself, I can’t be idle while that happens. The granny could be feeding herself, her family, and she might be the breadwinner of her home.  Bad pun, I know, but anyways. There we were, chasing after this hooligan. He took a sharp left turn, knocking down some barrels of watermelons.  “MY WATERMELOOOONS!” The fruit vendor cried out in terror, sobbing over the fruit being squashed into small gushy red pieces. We trampled over them, the slosh sticking to the bottom of my hooves.  “Ewwwuugh!” Bell was grossed out, she doesn’t like things sticking to her.  Huffing and panting, I was so close to reaching over for their hood before he slipped under the gate.  THWAAANG.  I hit the pole, my snout being bruised from the stupid thing. “Fock!” I watched the stallion look over his shoulders, he thinks he lost me but the truth is, I can catch up to him before he’ll know it.  I slipped under the same gate and took a different route. Chances are he’ll be heading towards the south gate of Bonesmouth. I hopped over bricks, pushing and shoving civilians just to gallop to the gate faster.  Keeping my head forward I could see a foal, “MOVE!” I yelled towards it. They were enjoying delightful grasshopper “ice-cream”. It’s pre-war food, but we tried to modernize it over here; Did NOT work. Whatsoever, I screamed again. “MOVE FOCKIN’ DAMMIT!” I was getting closer to the foal.  I’m starting to think kids here don’t have a single working braincell. Bell would shout behind me, “B–Box, watch out for the–” She was going to say kid, and I took my chance. I would do a running jump, I felt like I was a pegasus. The wind brushing past my cheeks as I–  “WAAAAAAA!” THWACK. I smacked the top of the kid’s forehead with my hindleg, their ice-cream smacking onto the ground for a double whammy. Add that to the ‘Box ruins a child’s day’, yeah?  My legs slid on the ground, I gulped down on my saliva as I stared up. Belle was literally right in front of me. “Y-You could’ve gone around.” She told.  I rolled my eyes, “Oy, you’re roight, but I wonted to be cool, yeah? C’man!” I waved my leg, and we were back on the trail to the gate.  We had reached the end. However, there were no other ponies here. No one hooded at least, just old grandmas, gramps, kids, neighbors, merchants– But no hooded bread-stealer. My eyes darted around for anypony suspicious. “Fock.” I kicked a pebble in front of me. He fucking escaped, I knew it. We were too late, we let a thief get away. Bell placed her leg on my back, she was just trying to calm me down I know, but I still felt guilty and mad. “ ‘s not fair. Ponies shouldn’t steal from the poor.” I grumbled. ThukaThukaThuka! My ears flicked, somepony is running. Both of us tilted our head up, and there he was; The stallion. He stopped not close to us, but he was there. He clenched his robe close. “Hhah.” He let out an awkward chuckle, he sounded tired. Whatever, good! He’ll be tired in prison too! “We’ve cought you roight, you’ve been cought red-hoofed!“ I told him. Bell chimed in, “Y–Yeah! How could you s-ss-ssssteal from a helpless grammy!”  We tag teamed essentially, the stallion seemed cornered. “Youh– Youh lot don’t understand,” He spoke, his voice sounded gruffly when speaking. He wasn’t a kid, he was a grown adult. “ ‘m poor, yeah?”  I butted in, “We’re all poor, chocklefock!” He has no right using that excuse. We all live in the damn fucking slums, no matter how many items are sold in a day here, or if there weren’t anything to eat all. We are all poor here.  “I know– But–” He tried to talk again. I interrupted, “What gives you the roight to steal from a grammy!” I stomped my left leg. “No right doin’ that! She’s just as unfortunate as we are!”  The stallion tugged on his cloak. He looked both ways, I could tell he was going to try booking it again. “Hey!” The moment I yelled out, he tried to dip. If this was going to be another chase, so fucking be it, “You’re going to give the breads back to–” Then, there was a rip through the air.  BANG! I felt my heart stop for a second as I watched the stallion hit the ground. His hood fell off of him, the pegasus revealing his white coat, and dark green mane mixed with swirls of black. He had a stub too, and this guy’s clenching his hindleg tight. He is in pain, and I was watching him writhing in it.  “Nonono!” I heard Bell sobbing, taking a step back as we could hear the grunts from him.  The town had cleared out from the shot ringing out in an instance, it was just us.  “Well, that’s that.” A silky smooth voice said from above. Did I get shot too? Am I dead? Soon, the same voice touched the ground. She was hovering near the thief. She had a cowboy hat, some sort of revolver in the grip of her right thestral wing, as well as two sharp fangs that glistened by the beam of the sun. She tilted her face towards me, there was a mole on the right side of her eyebrow, she was a dark purple matching the white blended gray mane that she had. She’s a bonnie, that’s for sure.  She spun her revolver around, clicking it into the holster.  The stallion was still grumbling, “Urghhh.”  I bluntly asked her, mostly because I was in shock, but also because I just never expected this, “D–Did you shoot him?” I stuttered.  “Yeeeep.” She hoisted the stallion up, making him lean on her shoulder. “I’ll bury him somewhere in a ditch, somethin’.”  “No!” Bell called out. I didn’t dare say anything, she’s the one with the gun.  “No?” She asked, clicking her tongue. “Didn’t you two say he stole somethin’? Ain’t that why you were chasin’ after him?”  Bell as always is the kind one, and I don’t blame her. He stole bread, but he doesn’t deserve to die over it. “N– Yes, w-we were chasing him, we wanted to get him to bring the bread back to the grammy.” She gulped, “B–But..”  “But?” She raises an eyebrow, I could see the stallion now dripping blood from his hindleg as he was creating a pool underneath them.  “But..” Bell couldn’t get her words out. “But he shouldn’t die.” I finished it for her, Bell’s cheeks had gotten flushed. “Oi don’t know where you got that gun, but we’re all in trouble for noht reportin’ it or nothin’, yeah? Roight, so let's help him get patched ‘en we won’t say a word about what happened.”  The batpony lets out a chuckle, “Yeah, fine. Let’s get him right an’ dandy, you figure what to do with ‘em, and I’m cut loose for making’ sure he doesn't skedaddle.” Ugh, smug bitch. “Come, follow.” She waved us in the direction she was going, already dragging the stallion as she trotted. Bell and I looked at eachother. We had no choice here either, who knows what could happen? We followed. We followed the mare, it wasn’t a slow walk by any means. Thankfully the stallion was still alive by the time we had made it to the mare’s den. It had a window with gears in a flowerpot on the sill of it, the red brick complimented the dark green roof. She opened the door, gave us a smile and walked downstairs.  There was a part in me that hoped this wasn’t a murder shack.  As soon as we entered her house, we were flashed with random guns mounted on the wall. Was this even allowed? How did she get the permission to own these? I watched the batpony as she laid the thief on the couch. She seemed like she knew what she was doing, so I turned my back to her as I gazed longingly at the weapons.  Bell was enamored by her bookshelf however. It’s not easy to keep books intact, “C–Can I read these?” Bell asked the mare.  “Of course, make yerself at home.” My ears twitched at the sound of bandages being ripped in the corner of the room. Bell relaxed herself on the floor, flipping through books and pages. She’s still a foal at heart.  I pressed my leg against the bottom of the guns, “Don’t try takin’ ‘em off without ‘my permission, little lady.” I grumbled, my leg hitting the floor in an instance as she said that.  “Why’d you help us?” I asked her, still not giving her a glance.  “I donno, felt like I should.” She responded to me so nonchalantly. What is she? Some war hero from the past? Her accent doesn’t sound like she’s even from here. I don’t like how she’s so confident in her answers.  “Well, we didn’t need your help.” I told her, “We didn’t need it at ahll.”  “Sure didn’t seem like it.” She quickly retorted. “He was almost out of your grip.” I glanced a bit, watching her create a tourniquet for the poor bastard. I know what that is at least, I remember my mom teaching me how to make one in case something happened to my other leg.  I paused for a bit, leaning on the side of the chair. “Well, we didn’t.”  The mare snickered, it seemed as if the stallion had fallen asleep as he hadn’t said anything. Or, maybe he’s dead. But considering she hasn’t told us anything yet, I trust the fact that he’s still alive. “What’s your name, little lady?”  “I ain’t tellin’.”  “M–My name is Blush.. B-Blush Bellflower.” Fucking dammit, Bell. She muttered that through the book she was reading as she stuck her nose further.  I bit my lip, and rolled my eyes. Fine, since Bell told hers, I might as well say mine. “Moosic…” I grumbled. “Music?” The batpony asked. “Moosic Box.” I responded. “Music Box. Wow, are ya good at singin’?” I hate small talk, I hate how she’s trying to do it too. “No.”  “Uh, then buildi–”  “Tell me your name, you nutter.” I huffed. She probably doesn’t know what that means. “Twin Shots.” She answered.  “Stoopid focking name.” I told her, well, it was! What kind of name is that?  The thestral stuck her leg in the pegasus’ robes, pulling out the bread. She lets out a, “Huh.” I was curious. I peeked over, and my eyes widened. The stallion had stolen moldy bread. It wasn’t even good bread, instead of taking the right ones he took the trash. Surely, he must have made a mistake.  Or, maybe we did?  “I have a bed, some blankets, pillows.” The bat said, “You can trust me that I won’t kill either of you in your sleep. I promise.” She got up from the couch, making her way into what I presume is the kitchen.  “However, if he wakes up, you better keep one eye open just in case.” She called out from inside the other room. As soon as she left, I scooted over to Bell. I tried to peek at what she was reading but she quickly sat on it before I could even gaze at it. Weirdo.  “Bell,” I whispered, making sure my voice was as quiet as a pin falling, “Don’t you think she’s fockin’ bonkers?”  Bell shook her head, “No,” Her voice is always quiet, she never needs to lower it. “I–I think she’s quite right in the head, really. We should trust her.” I scrunched the corner of my mouth as soon as Bell said that.  “W– She has guns!” I tried to not yell, darting my eyes left and right from the kitchen to here. I know that's hypocritical of me to say considering I’m literally hiding a gun in my bag. However, I don’t know how to use it!  “S-So? She helped us, Box.” She turned her face away from me, puckering her lips. “C–Can’t you just trust h–her?” Trust somepony I just fucking met? I think Twin has given Bell a disease, an incurable one to be exact. “Foine.” I was angry at her, and Twin, and that fucking thief too! I watched as Twin came back with some tea, the aroma tickling my nostrils.  “I have sweet tea, it’s mah favorite.” The bat told us, placing it down on the table. As much as the tea was trying to lure me in, I could never be like Bell.  “No, we’re leaving as soon as I wake up.” I stomped to the corner of the room, curling up in a ball as I watched Bell and Twin mingle over the stallion’s sleeping body. My brows furrowed, as much as I’d like to join Bell,  I don’t think I’d want to spend another second with Twin. I can’t wait to wake up, because the moment I’m up, we are marching right out of this fucking town.