"Looks like it's just me and you, eh, Xena?" The sign didn't say anything. I covered my mouth and bobbed it around while talking in a muffled, lower-pitched voice. "Y'know, maybe they had a point and you should stop killing everyone. Or maybe I have a point and I should stop not killing everyone, starting with you! Oh, okay." I cocked my hoof and put it to Xena's head, then made an exploding noise with my mouth, and let the sign tumble out of my grip. I waited for a few seconds. "Now I'm alone."

After giving this all of three seconds sombre meditation, I picked Xena up and stuffed her in my bag, then looked at the fliers again. Some of them were completely ruined, but a good number of them were still legible. Ah, good ol' plastic-laminated paper. Survives nuclear holocausts. There were fliers for taxi services, amusement parks... I pocketed a couple of those. It could be a morbid thrill to go see what was left of Haltern Towers. There were day trip ideas like Chestnut Zoo, the Balkpool dance festival, and some pretty desperate brochures for North Whales (it's not crap, honest).

Then at the bottom there were the restaurant and take-away menus. I picked one up for the Jade Garden Chineighse Banquet & Takeaway (as incongruous as that sounds) and decided that I could really go for it, whatever the hell it was. The pizza was tempting too, but it looked a bit more like machine-produced gloop on a circular piece of bread and I might only have like two days max before everywhere here was going up like New Year's Eve, so in the interests of varied experience, I endeavoured to locate this Jade Garden.

There was a map on the back, but it didn't mean much to me. On top of having no idea where any of these streets were, there was nothing left by which to identify them, and a lot of the buildings had collapsed either on themselves or on the streets next to them, just to further confuse things. Still, there was no harm in trying. I left the piles of bodies behind, threw on the radio and set off on my quest for a Chineighse.

What followed was a rather repetitive series of events, largely being a cycle of me thinking I've found a road sign, using it to orient myself on the map, then finding out that I'd either misread the sign or it was a significant distance away from where it was supposed to live, and I'd just gotten myself hopelessly lost again. At one point, the radio played the same public service announcement about rogue autonomous farm machinery twice in a row, and I thought I was stuck in a time loop. Then I took a swig of Tribute's rum to remember her by and lament that she couldn't fawn over me anymore (probably), and because I was bored.

I encountered a place called Flankie & Benny's with pictures of pizza and pasta in the window. Seeing as I was going to need more than one meal before doomsday, and I didn't want to tuck into the canned goods just yet, I took a look. Well they were more like canned 'eh-okay's after I was spoiled by the food in Brumare - what are you going to do, peach-farming ancestors? Come at me! Oh wait, you're dead!

As might be expected from Liverpole, the place was in ruins. Are you getting tired of endless descriptions of ruins yet? I mean, there's only so many times you can shock people with familiar places laid to waste. Tiles out of place, skeletons everywhere, ruined books, blah blah blah I think I've even pointed this out before, how the apocalypse seems to be the great homogeniser. It makes everywhere look the same.

There was one interesting thing about this place though, and that was that any food I could see was perfectly intact. A couple of skeletons were sprawled on couches in front of a bowl of bread balls that still smelled faintly of garlic. There was even some of the garnish left. Their cups had lost moisture until the cola was a gunge at the bottom, and the ketchup was a dark brown. Though, that might have been some kind of horrid brown sauce that gastronomic masochists put on their food.

I went up to the service counter, and there was a pizza on a plate that looked just like some of the photos around the place. I called out to see if some joker was making fresh food and leaving it out, but there was no response. The pizza was cold, and when I went back into the kitchen, the boxes and ingredients all had pre-war sell-by dates. One of the patrons must have come here a lot, because his body hadn't decayed at all. You could probably still eat the pizza, but I decided not to. I just raided the fridge for some bottled colas and left.

When I left, saw two figures wandering around aimlessly with a sharp inequality of body mass between them. At times I wondered whether Sticks hung around Stones because he couldn't escape his gravitational pull. They spotted me and had some kind of startled reaction, but I just stood there. They said some panicked things to each other that I was too far away to hear. I tilted my head. There was some kind of animated, frantic conversation going on that I was only getting the gestures of. Stones sat and jiggled for a few seconds. Sticks waved his forelegs in the air wildly, then gestured an explosion and fell over. Stones shoved Sticks, and then he punched back. Stones looked down at where he was punched indifferently, having served only to prolong the wobbling of his abdomen.

"Oy!" I called. Both of them jumped a foot in fright. "Either of you lads know where the Jade Garden is?"

They looked at each other uncertainly. I guessed they were convinced I was going to scatter their guts across the street. Then Sticks shouted back, "Maybe?"

I rolled my eyes and walked closer to them so we could converse at a civil volume. "Well, any Chineighse."

"Why?"

"Because I want to go for a fucking Chineighse?"

Stones frowned. "Inn't there easier food to find?"

"There was, then you ate it all." Sticks burst out laughing, and Stones shoved him over again. "There's some pizza place just down there, but there's enough preservatives in it to mummify a whale." Stones raised his eyebrows so you could see perhaps a sliver of beady eye, then went past me to check it out.

Sticks rubbed his head as he picked himself out of the wall. "S'a bit like this Taco Belle place in the Arndam. There's pots of cheese where the cheese don't wanna come out, and I don't think they ever did. Naturally, fathead over there took this as a challenge and ate it anyway." A raider using a four syllable word? Maybe he was an undercover agent for... actually never mind. The only undercover agents I've seen around here have been so conspicuously undercover they might as well be wearing joke shop spy outfits. Stones emerged from Flankie & Benny's a minute later with barbecue sauce smeared down his chin and a couple of boxes on his back. "Alright, let's find this Chineighse."

"Really?"

"It's not like we've got anything better to do. I mean, we could try and mug you, but I don't think that'd go so well."

"No. No it wouldn't." I started walking, and Stones waddled along at the back, munching on plastic pasta. We got about ten feet before something occurred to me. "Wait, do you know where we're going?"

"Not a clue."

"Right."

We wandered aimlessly for a few hours. Occasionally Stones would say something stupid, Sticks would demonstrate that he might have rented a brain cell at some point, then Stones would punch him, and Sticks would lose his deposit on said brain cell. Based on the fading sea smell, I could only guess that they were heading in the general direction of Colton. They were Colton Wanderers, right? I wasn't sure why they were in Liverpole to watch a match then. Unless I left that little of the Wanderers when I stormed out that the survivors just didn't have enough welly to be a competitive club anymore. Then I got thinking about how the raider football championship was supposed to be organised. I was about to ask them, but then I realised that I'd gotten separated while ensconced in my daydream, and I asked a postbox. Thinking nothing of it, I went to see if I could crack the postbox open, but then Stones burped so loud they probably heard it in Buckingham, and I used that as a beacon to track them down again.

We found a lot of places that weren't Chineighse restaurants. In fact I wasn't even sure if we were in Liverpole anymore - crappy ruined city had given way to crappy ruined suburb, and we were now walking through twenty minutes of cookie-cutter semi-detached houses between small nuclei of shops and cafés. On Sticks' advice, which I trusted slightly more than anything coming out of Stones' mouth (the balance of in versus out was very strongly skewed), we gave Handfield a wide berth. Apparently some bright spark had thought it was a good idea to build the grounds of Liverpole and Ewerton football clubs across a small green from each other, and now that both of them were inhabited by raiders, the half mile between the two stadiums was a constant warzone. I was a little disappointed.

At some point, a song on the radio cut short awkwardly, and there were some impact noises of the microphone hitting things. Then Grapevine came on. "Uh, hey. This is Grapevine on Radio Free Mareseyside because Tribute is... somewhere, and uhm... here's some more music I guess." I had to stop and laugh for a minute before we continued. Grapevine's stand-in broadcasts came at irregular intervals, and were always heralded by some 'oh crap I'm on' silence, some fumbling with the hardware, or a few seconds where she forgot to plug something in.

After clearing out two Cheesey Burgers (both with still-working milkshake machines dispensing still-pristine ice cream soup) and four Coltsta Coffee shops, we found ourselves reaching the edge of urban settlement in... somewhere. The road signs here were crap, and my earlier experience had broken my trust in them anyway. St. Haylans and Wingan could be fucking anywhere.

Now that I was spending time with them, Sticks and Stones weren't as amusing as I thought. I couldn't bring myself to put them down, because it was still faintly giggle-inducing when they had an exchange in accents as thick as they themselves were, that inexplicably ended in some kind of physical attack, and then they returned to being civil for a while before starting the cycle again. I'd come to the conclusion that Sticks just didn't eat. Stones took everything vaguely edible that we found, and I figured that Sticks was nourished simply by the aura of fat that Stones emanated.

It did make me wonder, though. These were two raiders. They were, certain radio personalities and knights-nouveau would have you believe, incurable barbarians, completely beyond any kind of civilisation. And here they were, not only happily wandering with me on an aimless quest for oriental cuisine, but also being less annoying than Shooting Stars, Full House or Tribute had ever been. I'm not sure if that said that there was a negative stereotype of raiders being perpetuated by the media and law enforcement, or that I was just a raider at heart. Probably a little bit of both.

Wingan was settled, but they were settled raiders, so apparently it was okay for us to pass through. With all the spikes and borderline BDSM gear around, we didn't look out of place. I was starting to wonder if there were any settlements around here that weren't just raiders or formerly such. Warreington perhaps? The Royal Liverpole didn't count anymore since its population at the moment was probably just Grapevine. I had my doubts about Colton. Speaking of which, I was starting to see signs for it with fairly low numbers on the distance part. The sun was getting low in the sky.

I stopped at a sign with a frown. "You were never looking for a Chineighse, were you?"

Sticks kept walking and shook his head. "Nah." Stones was close behind, happily scoffing down some mouldy bread.

"Where were you taking me then?"

"We were just going home. You can fuck off now, we just hung around you in Liverpole as a... deterrent." Crikey, Sticks must have swallowed a fucking dictionary. Maybe the Wanderers have a University Challenge team too. "Ain't nobody gonna fuck with you."

I wasn't sure whether I should feel flattered or used. Eventually a confused "Eh?" found its way out. "So now you're going to leave me too?" By now Stones was already coasting in the general direction of the Reebuck, with Sticks in a close orbit. I wasn't feeling bereft so much as frustrated that everyone kept buggering off. Also hungry, because I had adamantly decided to make the most of my Chineighse when I found it. Not if, when.

I took out Xena. "You'll never leave me, will you Xena? I can't, because I don't have any legs. Hahahah! Exactly. Stable 512 isn't far from here, maybe you should go back and settle down before the Enclave get here. Xena, don't be a fuckstick. I still don't have my Chineighse. I don't think there are any still standing... Well fuck you!" I hit her off the ground, and she stopped talking. The soggy grass made her paper a bit wet, and I wiped her off before I put her back in my bag.

Now that I was alone and bored again, I started looking through my pack for something to entertain myself with. I might forget about my quest in the process, but I didn't really care. Eventually, the breathmints fell out. Mint-Als, the box said. I still didn't understand how they were supposed to be drugs, unless some idiot decided that the fresh breath counted as some kind of narcotic hallucination. I figured I might as well find out. Drugs are a hobby, right? I popped two in my mouth and chewed. They were chalky and sweet with the slight tang of peppermint, slightly masked by an almost sawdust-like background taste, which I guessed was from them being two hundred years old. They melted pretty quickly, and they were gone inside a minute. I checked my breath. They slightly masked that I hadn't had a chance to brush my teeth since I left the stable, but as breathmints went, they were pretty mediocre. Then my vision went all weird.

In the minute following my swallowing of what was left of the mints, I got a sudden hit of brain, is all I can describe it as. My vision got sharper, and despite the half-light and the glare from the setting sun, I could see better than I could at midday. Sounds became crisper, to the point that I could hear Stones fart from a hundred feet away. That said, a sound like that probably travelled for miles anyway. I hoped this buff to my perception didn't extent to smeoh fuck, yes it does. I broke out the rag I used for a mask in Showffield, and stung my nose by putting a soot-encrusted cloth to it. Fucking hell.

I sneezed for a bit, and by the time I was able again, the smell was gone. Well that was an interesting trip. I did see something else while I was high on... sensory acuity, I guess? There was some pale green light over a hill nearby. It was a little off the course Sticks and Stones took, and it was vaguely in the direction of Colton. Why not, I figured. There's a lot of this, isn't there? Just doing things because I'm not thinking of a reason not to. Though, that implies I think about things before doing them. The things in question may have thinking involved, but none of that thinking finds its way into the decision-making process. That would be a waste of thinking.

The sun had almost fully set by the time I closed in on the light, meaning it was my only real beacon of navigation around. It was behind a copse of trees at the bottom of a hill. The trees obscured the source, but the light was bright enough around it to read by. After all, I had seen it from nearly a mile away. I heard voices from behind the trees.

"Here is kinda nice actually. With the light it's okay at night." Did I recognise that voice?

"It's still in the middle of fucking nowhere." I was pretty sure I did.

"Oh, hush. Other ponies would get freaked out."

I approached and poked my head around the side of the trees. The ethereal forms of two ponies were floating around, with faint trails leading to a glowing green stone on the ground instead of hind legs. They spotted me immediately. I squinted. "Hang on a second."

"Is that...?"

"Oh, son of a fuck, it's her."

I came fully out from behind the trees and trotted over. "It is you! Hot Sails and Sam Doodle!"

Hard Sell sighed. "Definitely her."

"You're looking a lot less flat than the last time I saw you. And a lot more translucent."

"There was this gem in our cargo that it turns out must have been a necromancy talisman," Sand Dollar said. "And now we're ghosts, I guess. Awooo..." Sell glared at him.

"Oh! Is this the part where you guys sing a musical number about how I have to change my ways and I'll be visited by three more ghosts tonight?"

"We're Marley and Marley..." Sell thumped Sandy before he got to the second line.

"Hm. I must have missed it when I was rooting through your stuff."

Sell through his forelegs up. "I knew it! No good bitch looted our goods!"

I took out a bunch of caps and held them up. "You can have it back if you like." Sell dove for the caps, and his forelegs phased through me like he wasn't there. His magic did nothing either. I quirked a brow at him.

"Fine. Keep it. You got us killed anyway. Enjoy your fucking spoils." He crossed his legs and floated back in a huff. Sandy blinked at him.

I put the caps back and shrugged. "Well, the raiders were there no matter what happened, and if I wasn't there they'd just have killed you quicker..."

"She's right, y'know." Sell ignored Sandy for a couple of seconds, then sighed and did what I can only guess was the ghost equivalent of a limp flop on to a not-there couch. "At least we got those darts to someone who could use them. How are those little hot potatoes anyway?"

"They've been immensely entertaining and useful." I nodded, and Sandy smiled. "See? Sandy can hold a civil conversation."

Sell grunted and turned a bit. It was like he was sprawled on nothing. Sandy grimaced, then leaned closer to me and whispered. "He gets a little cranky when other people call me Sandy."

"Oh, are you two, like..." I waved my hooves in some kind of criss-cross pattern. I'm not sure what I was trying to gesture.

Sandy looked at Sell with a little smile. "Yeah. For about three years, actually."

"Hm. That makes you the first couple I've met up here. Unless Dr. House and Specsavers hooked up after they ditched me in some kind of unholy tryst of righteous indignation..."

"Who?"

"Never mind. Say, do you know where I can find a Chineighse around here?"

Sell rolled over and grumbled, "If you want to make yourself useful, take that talisman to the Steel Rangers in Warreington and they might know what to do with it."

"Do they have a Chineighse?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Oh well. Nice seeing you again!" I shrugged and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sandy called after me. "We'll find you a Chineighse, okay? I think there might be one in Wingan."

I turned back and nodded, and went down the bank to pick up the gem and toss it in my bag. "Now I know why they call you Hard Sell."

"So help me I will haunt the fuck out of those darts for as long as you live." I giggled, and set off for Wingan.

'Won't they have some kind of reaction to a couple of ghosts just walking into town?' said nobody. They probably knew what they were doing, or didn't care, and I certainly didn't care. Indeed, there were a couple of funny looks as we went back into town, but I guessed that most of these raiders were PTSDing too hard to care.

"Didn't we hear this rain warning on the radio before this song?" Sell tapped the radio, but he was clearly still unused to his intangible nature.

"Oh! Yeah, there's a reason for that, Tribute has gone missing."

"Oh." Sandy pouted. "That's not good." Thanks, Captain Obvious.

My peppermint-induced perception high was starting to wear off, but I was still able to catch the glint of a high-flicker fluorescent lamp reflected on a sign with weird letters I couldn't read. I stopped, and backed up to go down the side road I saw it on. And there it was: the Shang Garden Chineighse Takeaway. Well, the 'a' and 'n' in 'Shang' were on the ground, but I doubted it was supposed to be the 'Shnag Garden'. Better yet, there was a light on inside, and someone with an apron sitting behind the counter.

"See? Told you."

I tilted my head at the name. "Do they pick the names for these places out of a hat or something?"

"Well, far be it from me to get offended on someone else's behalf but these names might mean something in their own language."

Even Sell seemed mildly impressed. "I'm just amazed there's one of these still open after two hundred years."

I shrugged and opened the door. "Where there's a buck to be made..." Sell made some noise of agreement, and the two of them followed me in through the wall. They didn't have much of an option.

For the price of fifteen caps (Sell insisted on haggling it down from twenty-five, because even if they weren't any use to him anymore, they were still his caps, he said) I got duck and orange, fried rice and prawn crackers. I had no idea what any of those things entailed. The rice came out of sealed bags and the prawn crackers came out of packets in boxes, so it was probably pre-war supplies. The duck looked like it was definitely meat of recent kill, but since it also came out of a box, there was no telling just how 'duck' it was.

I cracked open a cola and sat back with the food in the seats that were only kind of dirty. Sandy mimicked sitting across the table from me, while Sell was content to sit in the air and look bored. I tried a bit of everything. I tried a bit more of everything, slower, with more scrutiny.

Then I sat back and frowned. "This is slop."

"What?"

"I don't like this."

Sandy screwed up his face. "What do you mean you don't like it?"

"You just paid fifteen of my caps for it, you'd better fucking finish it!" Sell growled.

"You have to be the first picky eater in the wasteland ever."

"I could just leave you guys in the bin on my way out if you're going to berate me for having taste." They sighed, and backed off. I munched on a couple more prawn crackers, since they were okay, and I could stomach the duck pieces, but on the whole it was just an unpleasant, greasy, slightly-off mess. I left it half-eaten and washed it down with cola. It was filling enough, but I didn't think it was great value.

Then when I went outside, I blacked out.

Level up! Really? I did like, absolutely nothing in this chapter New perk: You'll Never Walk Alone

If your companions leave you or are killed, new companions will randomly join you.