Chapter 2 The New Friend Gambit

“Do you know the leading causes of death? The first is sickness carried by mosquitoes, being killed by a horse kick is after that. Do you plan on changing the rankings?"

Gyro Zeppelli, Jojo's Bizzare Adventure Part 7 Steel Ball Run Chapter 3

It would have been a lovely day for a swim, had the water not been irradiated and full of monstrous radigators swimming about in the lakes outside of Ponyville. Luckily for me, when the bridge gave way, even the radigators were too lazy to do much more than gnaw playfully. The bites in my shoulder still hurt, but the heat was great enough that many of the radigators were sitting in shade with their mouth hanging open to cool off.

If I were sober when I set out on this, I probably would have thought twice about plunging forth into unknown territory. Drunk me, for all his oversights, had a showmanship and business instinct that I admired. When I wrestled free of teething baby radigators, I paddled over to the over grown shore of the lake. Poking through the grass, I found myself in awe of the grave of Ponyville.

The husk of the old town breathed again. Once home to so many, torn apart by time, and weather, and chaos. The houses and structures lining the streets were crippled afterthoughts of what they once were. They seemed as though war had chewed them up and spat them back out. Plant-life seemed to have taken over in the last 150 years, with no natural predators to fight it. Tall grasses and black roots fought back against pavement and beaten path.

I took a moment to think to myself. ‘Why was I doing this again?’ It was a good question, and drunk me was the one with eloquent answer. It was something about that zebra, I met earlier. I wasn’t a pony who believed in fate, but rather believed in will. The world needed better ponies, and if it meant diving into a rat’s nest of raiders or radigators, then I would have to take a stand to make it happen. Good things couldn’t be counted on happening by accident in the wastes. You made them happen. For my kind of plans, I wanted a good pony at my side, and that zebra struck me as having potential to be that kind of good pony. Good ponies were a strange bunch, and good ponies that could withstand the horrors of the wastes without becoming whiny or excessively burdening were hard to find. Inside, I could feel a fear welling up, but it was the kind of feeling I couldn’t avoid. If I wanted to make change, the terror would be inevitable. It seemed if you wanted to shake things up, you had to do a little bit of shaking yourself.

Half a home of debris piled high over the road into Ponyville. The remains of a roof and all its shingles were visible from atop the heap of moldy cedar, brick, glass, and other assorted material. Among the rest of the debris, a trash can stood tall out from a heap of junk, with the faded words barely legible, “Keep Ponyville Clean! Do your part!” As I passed by, I made sure to drop an empty bottle as a good gesture.

Only the sounds of the wind blowing hot air about through the ruins and small animal life in the nooks and crannies of the town could be heard. It was enough to make an earth pony feel lonely… just the kind of environment to set your nerves on fire.

I climbed high upon the mountain of dirt and house and junk to survey the land from above. War had taken a bite out of the town, although one might just call it a nibble. Only a few craters were visible, and their size was hardly that of the megaspells that ravaged cities. If what I knew from stories was any sign, it seems war had been merciful. I had heard that after the megaspells fell, even the dead screamed in pain.

Side by side homes and buildings stretched up the town, with gnarly foliage clawing up the sides of buildings and trellising around posts and signs. At the end of the lane was a prominent looking building at the center of the town, battered but without surrender in the face of the apocalypse.

It became clear to me as I shuffled down the mountain of torn up buildings where I was: The shattered glass showcase, the broken counters of stalls, the plethora of signs begging for your eye, everything and anything of worth pilfered away. This was Market Street. It was a place of the vain struggles of civilians at the hour of their grim enlightenment of the looming end. Somepony had painted the words, “The end is neigh,” on the side of an old haberdashery, but somepony else had crossed that out. Just beneath it, that somepony wrote less in paint, and more in blood, the words, “Killjoy was here.” It gave you an idea of the voice of the city. The glorious change between “Keep the city clean” to “Its the end everypony, smoke if you got ‘em…” to “Look everypony, there’s a new pony in town who doesn’t give two bucks about anything and his name Killjoy.”

Suddenly, the rocks on the sides moved…

…

Okay, on a second look, maybe they didn’t. I stared at them for probably a good thirty seconds before the snarky side of my brain kicked in, saying things like, “Hey, better keep an eye on that rock, it might sneak up on you when you’re not looking!” and “Unbelievable, it is the rock of destiny! Contrary to the name, it has absolutely nothing to do this story!” It would have been lovely, had evolution made it so my eyes could look everywhere at once. I hated feeling like a fool.

If a rock was going to be the cause of my death, I would never be able to call myself an earth pony. Snarky me needed to be quiet. I had zero intention on dying here. My new life with the ‘Glory Road’ company was more than I ever deserved, and no wall would stand in my way from following that road. Both this dream and I drank from the sweet goblet of ambition. Even in breaking my rules, I would bet my life that my ambitions are still in line with the spirit of the journey. I pressed on across the cobble stones, looking about the signs. The one with the prominent letters “G”, “U”, and “N” stood out to me. What a terrible ghost of the past… I couldn’t say I knew too much history about how they came to be, but I did know that they were vicious little things. What I did know was that the flankhead trot that made them was a sadistic bastard who decided “Throwing rocks at a mare’s head is nice, but what if I exploded a rock through one’s head? Wouldn’t that be great?” The rank haunch fool made a device that you feed perfectly good lead into, so that it can proceed to vomit death over everything. My life as a Caravan runner would be all peace and pastels, if who ever made the stupid things had decided he would have rather been a gardener or something. Still, I’m glad I never had to deal with the gun in its prime. The wastelander was more often than not a lazy bastard who could not bother herself with reinventing the wheel. She picked at the leftovers from the before-times, which were typically rusty, covered in mold, rendering them terribly ramshackle. Thank Celestia for that. In the before-times, I bet guns were scary dangerous. They were still scary, per se, but they had a wacky way of falling apart. Guns just made me shiver, because at the very core of there nature, they are power: pure and unrelenting. Thus, they became the key to the wastelands.

As I peaked through a bit of brush, I laid eyes on an odd wooden stall. It was crudely hammered together with the ripwood from fallen buildings. The counter was dyed a dark red. A shoddy sign held above the stall read the words:

“Zmileys Eyes Cold Read LLemonaide.

25 kaps”

My own attentiveness betrayed me. In a moment so many things were happening at once.

A thought of “Do raiders these days actually try to pull this kind of junk? This is terrible, I can’t even read this!” raced across my mind.

A pony with black stripes across his eyes popped up from behind the counter and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Is this illiterate bullshit your fault?" I quipped as the moronic raider slung a thick lasso around my neck, pulling it into a noose. Trained instinct served me well, I raised my left hoof just in time to catch the inside of the lasso loop. It helped that I was pointing to his inane sign. He still got me by the neck, but he couldn’t choke me out. The earth pony behind the stall yanked the rope, sending me tumbling downward as I ate countertop. The rough unfinished wood grated against my face. "Tch." I shook my head. "Come on, you can do better than this. If you're gonna kill me, be professional about it."

"You'reph nawt gonna care abowght dat when yer dead." The raider mumbled with the rope in his mouth.

The snickering earth pony pinned the rope and blew an old whistle.

There was the rumble of moving rocks as the raider’s accomplices came out of the woodwork. Damn it, this was obvious, and I still fell into it. My mind was racing. “Did I actually fall into this stupid trap?” “A lemonade stand? ...Really?” “25 Caps for lemonade is just highway robbery!” “This isn’t fair! I blame the rocks…”

The whistle was a give away. That was for sure. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a unicorn raider gal perched over the edge of the red roof of a building behind me. The technical vocabulary to describe her gun would be something like ‘loud’ and ‘angry’ and maybe even creative as it spat a storm down from above.

‘Plink, zink, clink, clank, tang, tink!’ went the bullets as I rolled over to block them with the metal case over my shoulder. "Ha!" I cackled. "Nice try." I said, peaking out from the edge of my fridge. As the mare growled at me, I cupped a hoof to my mouth as I braced myself back against the stand with my hind hooves. "Keep trying!" I encouraged her.

"Yerf a realf zon oph-a biffph!" The rope pony sneered at me.

"Tch!" I clicked my tongue, holding a wink and grinning arrogantly. "Thanks, I try."

“Wah deh hhhell iff daat? Gert dat ting ourt off de way, dis bad fer da lemonade!” the raider behind the stand blurted out. He pulled tighter and tighter. His hooves seemed to grip the ground with inequine traction. This was what we called earth pony magic.

“For an--agh...illiterate pony this is kind of clever.” I managed to choke out as the raider behind the counter pulled at rope again. "Have you ever tried getting tutoring for that kind of thing? Do you have those kinds of caps?" I shot the pony an inquisitive look. "What are your overheads?"

“Furch you, I eighn't irritarate” The yellow earth pony gruffed. It was certainly hard to talk with rope in your mouth, but it was a language I was perfectly fluent in. Understanding the words wasn’t hard, but the semantics still threw me for a loop.

More raiders were probably coming. They never came on their own. It was always a pack infestation. This was fun, but I needed get going before I got dead. As the pony tugged harder. I sank my weight back in resistance, which only caused the earthpony to pull on the rope harder. I was strong, but strong might get me killed, between strangling myself, getting ponypiled by a gang of goons, and getting lead implants by the sniper, I had a number ways to go. I snickered. "Oh yeah? How do you spell 'pugilism?'"

The raider's eyes widened a little bit at the challenge. His eyes wandered away as he really put his thoughts into it. "uh... Pee...yuu--"

Crash! That was as far as he got before I catapulted into him. My master once taught me, the heart of miracles is found in harmony. The pony who masters harmony controls life, she told me. “In the great science, when they push you, be one with it. It’s not their push. It is your push, for you are one. And if you can make them push, then they are already yours.” He was pulling so hard I was primed like a rocket. I pounded my steel shoed hooves in the guys face again and again with a jovial rhythm. I danced all over his face as I made him swallow his own teeth. My hooves were nice and bloody after a few good hits. I took a nice moment to wipe the blood off on the guy's barding.

Zakan!

The roar of a shotgun sounded and peppered my ear as I ducked down. Shoot, there were more of them, weren’t there? Stupid and greedy traveled in herds… Pulling the noose off of my neck, I slipped out beyond the grass towards what looked like a jewelry store. Suddenly, there was teal earth pony barreling towards me with a sharpened road sign. You gotta love the creativity here in the wasteland...

The pony slashed in, but I dashed past, clinging to his flank. As his head followed, trying to clip me with the strike I threw a hoof around his neck and danced him through the doorway of the jewelry shop with a circular throw. Before he could pick himself up, I bucked the door closed, slamming it against the raider's neck with an unsettling cracking noise. He didn't get up. Phew. I needed to get moving. Heading to my right, I leaned over towards the high grass. With my hooves, I parted the grass ever so slightly to take a peak.

I found myself inches away from a cadre of raiders, all with bloodshot eyes who seemed to pride themselves in looking like a scary bunch of fun hating bastards. At the head was a spikey pauldroned earth pony gigant with a red coat, scowling at me. Behind him was an infestation of 15 raiders (infestation being the proper term for a collective a maggots.) They had Mohawks, piercings, facial scars with puss oozing out them, and a wicked smell. It was eau d'rank. One even had a mushroom growing out of his face. They were practically piled on top of each other.

Zwwwoash! A spear lashed out, hitting me in the chest. Thankfully, I lifted back onto my hind legs and belayed the strike, passing the spear down underneath my body as my armor deflected the bulk of the blow. A zinging rock knocked me back as it collided with my head. "Yowch! Was that a rock?"

Rocks were just after me today! My head was ringing, but I powered through the disorienting shaking in my head. I rolled to the side, landing awkwardly as I dodged a shotgun blast. I scampered into a gallop as the wave of raiders crashed through the grass cover. Some of the raiders seemed to get caught in the grass almost as if something was holding them there. I looked back to see a raider trying to claw himself out from the grasp of some toothy plant creature. Still, when you had this many raiders chasing you, it never felt like you get rid of any of them. One raider practically beamed a grenade at me, but I managed to intercept it, letting it bounce off my fridge case as I ran past it. All but one stupid raider halted before the grenade exploded. I felt pretty cool running away from the explosion until a tiny bit shrapnel implanted itself in my behind. Rainbow colored hell that hurt. It curbed my stride a bit, but the explosion gave me a wonderful head start.

I jumped through a bunch of grass, but a large black plant stem with bluish green thorns and gnarly teeth turned at me and hissed. It had large thorny brambles wrapped around a pony skeleton. No questions asked, I quickly skedaddled back out through the grass.

I dodged to the side as a burst of buckshot ripped out to the side of me. A second shot came in, hitting me in the side, but it was far away and my armor managed to stem most of the damage. I wasn't dead, and objectively, that was a good thing. I bolted towards an open alley up ahead.

There were several dumpsters, with novelty-sized moles poking their heads out of them. The side of one of the buildings was torn open. Old posters of Stable-Tec lined the walls. "On to the bright future," they said. With the tendency toward overcast and bloodshed, I think Stable Tec would feel rather dumb about there assertions about the future, literally and metaphorically. Who the hell couldn’t see chaos erupting out of a lawless landscape? Ramblings on the idiocy of the damned aside, I was being chased and didn’t have much time for scenery.

I was halfway down the alleyway when a pair of large boisterous horns emerged from the side of the building. The creature that carried them looked almost like a pony, but much bigger and taller and with cloven hooves. It had a dark green coat and bulging muscles that were covered with tons of long hair. It also had distinct beard on the end of its boxish chin. It's face was twisted with immutable anger.

The creature reeled back, expanding its lungs, its chest almost doubling in size, as it wafted a long draw of air through flared nostrils. You could hear the air ring through all contortions as it traced the passageways deep within the creature’s nose.

“WHAT’S THAT SMELL?” It yelled out to nopony in particular. It snorted again, this time much quicker, but just as loud. “SMELLS LIKE PONIES!”

The towering creature turned to me, gazing at me with its bright red eyes. “I… HATE… PONIES!” It screamed. It spoke loudly and with all the breath in its lungs, blowing a heavy burst of air directly into my face. Weather forecast called for heavy winds and scattered spit storms. The voice made me tremble just a bit.

Well… I picked the wrong dark alley to go into… The creature had such ridiculously gigantic horns, and was two, maybe three times as tall as me. Damn it, I didn’t want to become pony kababs anytime soon. Couldn’t he bother somepony else?

I checked behind me to see if I could make back the way I came, but the raiders soon filled the entire mouth of the alley chest to chest. I frantically looked back between the raider and the big horned creature.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and stared directly back into the big horners eyes full of hate. It was a gamble, but I took myself as a gambling type of pony. I pointed a hoof down to the raiders.

“Hey, look!” I shouted at the big horned creature. "Ponies!'

“PONIES? WHY… I HATE PONIES! DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE GIVE PONIES?” The creature leaned in to scream in my ear.

I decided to go out on a limb and take a guess. “We give them the horns?” Intonation for questions was hard to establish while yelling.

“WE GIVE THEM THE HORNS!” The big horner screamed before jumping straight over me and plowing headfirst into the infestation.

A couple of raiders got flattened as the big horner transformed them into a red paste. The swarm of raiders tried to overwhelm the creature. When I left, the creature had thrown a unicorn through a store on the other side of the street, and had started rolling on the ground to crush the raiders on its back. The raiders had lodged a spear deep into the creature and were unloading tons of firepower into the thing. A pack of 8 raiders had followed me out after me.

I didn’t like the idea of fighting 8 on 1, but my odds were getting better thanks to tall, green, and scary. I probably should have known this was what was going to await me when I chose to follow Calypto, but… as they say, hindsight is 20/20. The other side of the alleyway opened up into a line of residential housing. I decided to hide behind a corner as one raider spearheaded the charge.

As the raider mare split through the mouth of the alleyway, I sprang up, shooting a hoof to the underside of her jaw. I grabbed hold of her head which was gripping a mouth held machine gun of some sort. The tiny kind that was made for midgets or something. I didn't understand guns too much. Wrenching her head back towards the alley way, I pressed down on her jaw. I sprayed a wild flurry of bullets at the oncoming raiders. I hit 2 or 3 of them, but the rest jumped to cover behind dumpsters. I backed up, laying down suppression fire as I made my way across the open plaza.

Click, click! The gun stopped spitting bullets, no matter how many times or how hard I smacked down on the raider mare's jaw. Guess that was that. I ripped the gun out of the mares teeth, tossed it far to my right, then gave the flailing mare a peck on the cheek and flung her to my left before dashing off. I didn't have much time until the chase came back on.

I made a beeline for one home that had the roofing of its patio collapse inward. A wagon had lodged itself into the house, the body of the wagon made a scanty path to the roofway on the second level. I stopped for a moment before climbing, choosing to grab a sizable rock, the size of a saddle bag, along the way. I made a break for the house when a flurry of gun fire hit me in the side. It was hard to tell, but only a few bullets made it sufficiently through my armor, but I could feel the blunt force punch through me, even if they didn’t pierce. Fuck, if I didn't shape up, I'd probably die soon. I ran up the wagon toward the second level. The wagon slipped a bit as I fumbled with my injuries, my fridge eating my bullets for me. When my hooves touched down on the rooftop, I felt the foundation shake.

Even so, the raiders chased me up to the top of the building. Only four got up to the top before the wagon slipped free and collapsed. The first raider, baby blue with orange hair, galloped at me screaming with a lance made from a road sign. It was built directly into his harness, almost like a battle saddle. I could see the faintest glimmer of a spark in the raider’s aura as he accelerated fast in a burst towards me.

I pressed one way luring him in, then juked the opposite direction at the last second, I striking with a swift kick in the hinds as he passed. His enthusiasm became my enthusiasm as he flew clear of the roof and embedded his lances deep into the neighboring building. The lance had run deep into the wall, suspending the earth pony 10 feet up in the air.

The second pony came chasing with a shotgun. I deflected a volley against the face of my fridge, just before spinning around to toss the massive rock at the raider. Panicking, he lifted back onto his hind hooves to catch the flying boulder. As he struggled with the rock, I jaunted forward and gave him a spirited push, sending him tumbling down the side of the roof. I waved accordingly.

The foundation shook as the ponies from below started throwing grenades into the house. Business guru, Sunny Zoo, didn’t say anything about the tactical disadvantages of having a building collapse on you, but I was hardly interested in chancing that struggle. I climbed the side of the roof, looking around for an escape, but a unicorn started unloading rifle rounds around me. Sometimes I had a hard time determining if the raiders were actually shooting at me. Either they were really bad at it, or if they merely just liked the sounds of their weapons and aiming anywhere was fine so long as bullets were flying.

I scrambled over the peak of the roof dodging the incoming lead buffet. Then, I saw it… a fire escape on the neighboring building. With two raiders in hot pursuit, and the house about to drop, I didn’t have time to judge whether this was a safe plan. I had already made it this far on break neck schemes, so I leapt onto the rusty pseudo scaffolds.

…Hrrrnnnnnngngggngng… kkkkkrink!

When I landed, I heard a distinct pop, and the fire escape started to sway. Across the way, the swarm leader of the raiders shot me a lovely grin just before flinging himself onto the escape railing. The railing began to twang and wail again. On the lower levels, one of the other raiders had climbed up from the bottom ladder of the escape. This seemed to be over the passenger limit… I had nowhere to go but up, so I clamored up as the entire structure began to sway almost free from the walls. The leader struggled to climb with the large body axe in his harness, so he jettisoned it after knocking another support loose. After passing boarded up door after boarded up door, I found a window, two floors up, just as the frame of the escape was swaying several feet away from the wall. The fridge was slowing me down, so I unhooked its reinforced nylons, and chucked it straight through the window. I had lovely plans for jumping inside the buildings, but I was forced to reconsider as the raider boss barreled into me.

He was a big pony with lots of muscle and a bloody look in his eyes. They were the type of eyes you could get lost in for hours, thinking about all the things you could say to piss them off, just to see how big the veins in those searing spheres of anger could get. He was bigger than I was, and he hit like a truck. I doubled over when he crashed into the side of my ribs.

"Well, bitch. For a quick cap, you were way more than your worth." The boss spat to the side. "You killed a lot of my gang. You've ruined my chances at the throne, so I'm gonna make you pay."

This raider fool... he didn't even know the first thing about being an effective raider. Hanging onto the rusted railings, I gave a strained grin. I was hurting bad. Still, I could sense down into the crumbling foundations of the metal structure. "Ha. You get your ass kicked and you suddenly want to do business. Is there a word for incompetent bitches who pretend to be raiders? Because you look like an idiot and the mohawks and body odor aren't doing you any favors."

The raider cackled as he clenched his brow in rage. "You really have a death wish, don't you?"

I took a deep breath, my wounds were killing me. "Frankly, I was just curious. If kept insulting you, would your eyes pop out of your head?"

The raider boss seethed. No eyes popped, though. It was a bit disappointing. “End of the line, scrapper. You had a good run, but now you’re gonna be pulp.” He shouted.

“I see you raiders are going with a theme.” I spat back at the raider. It had been a while since I was fending for myself like this. Kill or be killed, it was the wasteland royale. I wasn’t quite out, and if basic geometry taught me anything about lines, is that they continue on infinitely. That was the kind of line I was feeling. It had been a long time since I fought quite like this, but it felt good. One on one. Nothing scared me more than an entire group. I still had my traumas. It gave me shivers, but this kind of fight was a call to glory.

The raider boss lifted a heavy hoof as he closed in toward me. Grounding myself, I let my body feel the lofty sway of railings. I snaked a hoof around the side of the rails. When he came barreling toward me, I gave a controlled jerk with my body, sending the fire escape swinging away from the wall. The raider was thrown into metal cage around the railing, his hoof swinging wide of my face. I curled my body back and bucked him in the shoulder with my two back hooves. He almost fell off the railing as he fumbled back, but he caught himself.

"What's wrong? Lose your balance?" I quipped.

"I'll fucking kill you, you guttersnipe."

"Yeah, yeah..." I gasped for air as my wounds pained me. How long was it before I passed out? I didn't care about worry on that. If I was going out, I'd do it with a grin and pissing somepony off. "Hehe, try not to fall, big guy."

The railing was only barely holding up, the metal teetering about, the old rusty bars screaming under the strain. This raider clearly wasn’t given to the great art, he let brute force guide his strikes, almost like a bulked up child. The raider swung his body back toward me, trying to hook me with his gigantic hooves, but I stepped back, and lurched my body toward the inside of the rails, swinging our section of the escape back into the wall. The raider boss lost his balance again and took a heavy hit to the head as he slammed into the side of the building. The raider groaned from the intense pain. I got the feeling his muzzle might have gotten a little shorter from that.

There was an unpony howl as the malleable lower section of the rails had bent inward, against the will of the upper part, which had been bending outward. I felt a sinking sensation as the lower level began sheering the metal supports as it turned further inward, not helped by a panicking raider below. I leaped over the dazed raider boss to get to the next ladder of the escape. I almost kissed the railing when the level below fell completely loose. The escape was standing, only due to the loose metal spokes getting trapped in the metal platforms, or the cage-like bars. I had to climb another ladder on the rickety structure to get on level with the window. The raider boss recovered and climbed up after me. The upper railing was several feet out from the window, and the lowest supports for the fire escape were buckling under the added strain. I took a leap at the open window, catching the threshold with my hooves.

I turned back to look at the red raider boss as he sank his weight to jump. Unfortunately for him, throwing around his bulky body was the final straw for the fire escape. The platform fell lopsided, dropping ten feet on one end and fifteen feet on the other as the metal cage of one of the lower levels crumpled like a aluminum foil. The raider bastard screamed in pure rage at me, and I gave him a suitable grin in return.

From inside, I heard hoof steps. When I turned back inside, I saw a muddy looking mare with red hair and what looked like a purple coat. Her mane was really pretty, despite being frayed and disheveled. It was actually a blend of light and dark reds that gave it vibrancy, and it was tied back in a ponytail. Her mane was long and fluffly and curled around to her left flank. She sat there, staring at me as I hung from the window. She didn’t look like a raider, or at least if she was a raider, she was the professional kind. The leather jacket that wrapped around her was unzipped midway, clearly a product of how hot it was. She had a short, half-cloak with unremarkable, matted brooches fastening it to the shoulders of the jacket. The cloak came with a small hood, and a long, starched strip hung loose from the right side of the cloak. It looked like a face mask of some sort. A silver chain cascaded down her neck between the opening of her jacket, bearing a heart shaped locket made of crystal. The jacket was covered with pockets, she had nothing hanging off of her. The magenta mare had a weird harness around her body, and over her shoulder was a coil of climbing rope with a four pronged hook hanging from it. The ends of her jeans were tied off with athletic tape. Her eyes perused from looking at me, out to the angry raider behind me, then back to a book she had propped up in her hooves.

She sat in thought for a moment, furrowing her brow. Sweat dropped down her temple as she gave a tense frown. I was glad to see somepony who might help me, but the glass shards I fell on jumping to the window really made it hurt to move.

“Hmmmm. Yeah, I’m not taking any chances.”

…And then she shot me right in the face with a laser pistol. She SHOT ME! It hit me right in the forehead! Magic energy weapons were a strange dichotomy. Either they worked or they didn't. They lacked the power to pierce through most things, and mostly they just burned. The difference between a laser pistol and a pistol was getting a headache versus getting your brain spilling out across the ground. The magic laser pistol was pretty much the laughing stock of the wasteland, its only saving grace being its ability to vaporizing things into a fine powder, but as far as I could tell, it happened so irregularly that choosing to use one meant playing dice with some kind of higher power. Still, she shot me! Here I thought we could have been friends... I flinched back, almost losing my hold, but with some kind of earth pony resolve, I barely held on by the windowsill.

“Errgh… Ow! Fucking hell…”

“You’re still there? Dang, raiders are really persistent these days...”

She pointed the laser pistol in my face again and fired. I jerked my neck to the side to dodge, but lost my grip. With my hind hooves, I pushed out from the wall, launching me back toward the fire escape. The raider boss, having learned a thing or two, panicked when he saw me flying down at an angle at the fire escape. He could see it reflected in my eyes, we were going for a ride.

With a mighty clang, I crashed into the wavering fire escape. If the railings didn’t like the pulp master trying to jump before, it was certainly going to hate my soaring assault. The fire escape gave a final death howl as it toppled over into the old house next to it. Both OJ and I were catapulted into the ruins.

It was incredibly disorienting, flying through dry wall and roofing, broken furniture. My head was throbbing. It was dark, and for a naïve moment I entertained the thought that I was dead. Ultimately, I couldn’t understand the idea of the afterlife being so dang dusty. After a little poking around, I was able to push open an odd metal door. I crawled out of the oven I seemed to have smashed my head through. After swimming through some rubble, I climbed out from the tower of junk. I was already off track for my day, and I needed to add “beat that laser flinging mare” and “retrieve my precious fridge chest” to my “To-Do” list.

The raider leader was on top of the roof, looking worse for wear. My head was hurting, but his head had to be screaming. It was hard to see how much he was bleeding, but the red trails he was leaving was a bit of tell in that respect. I wasn’t doing so hot either.

The raider’s face perked up with a grin when I started climbing the pile of rubble towards him.

“Done running?”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. A cool wave washed over me, and the rest of the world faded away, everything except for me, the earth, and the raider in front of me. One on one matches were my personal style. I liked them. They were a bit of a treat, so I took them when ever I could.

The raider reared back and forth in excitement. “You’re cheeky for a road rat. I’m gonna enjoy cutting you open and bleeding you out. I’m gonna take your head and carve it up with a….”

His monologue was cut off as I shot a hoof right into his mandible. He tried to turn back with a right hook, but I stepped inward to his left side, moving with him. I had noticed he was a one-trick pony. He looked stupid with his weight forward even when fighting with his hooves, so I swooped in under his left hoof. I bit down on the skin on the back of the mane, and with a hop backward, I pulled the raider forth, away from the balance of his foundation. I saved no enthusiasm as I flung his face into the rubble. Free of the weight of the fridge unlocked an entire world of speed for me, and it was a joy, even if it was a solid factor of my defense. Still, I was king of the hill, and that made me happy.

I moved the raider’s left hoof behind him as he struggled against the ground.

“Rrrgh. Fuck…. Damn it! This isn’t fair.” The raider barked unable to move.

“The wasteland isn’t fair.” I fired back and gave him a courtesy stomp.

Suddenly the three raiders made a noise at the base of the tower of rubble. Two unicorns and an earth pony, one of them was the sniper from back at the stand.

Two of them started making their way up the hill. The earth pony began flinging buckshot everywhere with his shotgun. The unicorn laid down a spray of fire with her assault rifle.

I ducked down, dodging a wave of lead as they reached across the empty air. Then, biting down on the earth pony raider boss’s mane, I lifted him up and walked him toward the raiders as a meat shield. I slipped a hoof under his forehoof and over the top of his pinned arm, so I could force is shoulder joint for control.

“That’s right hold him still!” The unicorn sniper yelled as she filled the boss with bullets.

What a nice bunch of friends... Guess that proves what little bond they had. Just a bunch of dirty rats. My meat shield grunted in pain, but he seemed to be holding. Withdrawing my hoof, I front-bucked the boss down the hill; sending him flying into the two raiders coming up the hill. The group of three was knocked down to the base of the rubble. With a triumphant yell, I jumped down the hill, hoofstooling the raider boss so I could jump in range of the sniper. It was the nice thing about having a solid meat shield like him. I could trust that I could get a good enough footing for a solid jump.

The unicorn’s rifle spat bullets at me, but her aim was shody, and I closed the distance with a few powerful bounds. She pointed her gun right in my face, but I batted it away with a hoof and socked her right in her giant adorable raider eyes. Her telekinetic grip on her rifle sputtered out, dropping the rifle as she flew back.

I turned back around to see the pity pile of raiders getting back up. Even the pulp pony was getting up. It was enough to make a pony ask what it takes to kill an earth pony. My wounds were catching up to me, and my breath was unsteady, but I felt a rush that made me feel more animal than pony. It was a sickening joy. Just as I way gearing up to fight the three, a little metal ball landed in the middle of the three of them, and exploded.

A thick wave of pony gore splashed over me, mostly hitting the front of me. Thankfully, I closed my eyes before it happened. It was in my mane, it was on a lot of my clothes, but more than anything, it was all over my face. I took a delicate breath to not let the vicera into my mouth before blowing a breath of air to clear the blood from my lips. With a hoof, I wiped the grime from my face. I hated getting coated in blood these days. In the wastes, these things happened from time to time, because… well… things bleed. It was certainly better to be covered in somepony else’s blood than one’s own, I guess. Still, it was bad for business, so I tried not to make a habit about it. I almost collapsed on my own, letting my legs fall into place as I sat on my hinds. I spent a moment catching my breath. When I turned around there was nopony there.

“Oi! Did you get blood in your eyes? Up here!” a voice called out.

I looked up to see the purple coated mare from earlier waving from another window. I stared at her with frustration for as long as I could muster.

The mare frowned as she mad a whining noise. “Hey, I wanted to say ‘I’m sorry for what happened earlier.’”

I cocked my head to side. “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t work when you use somepony for target practice! You shot me!” I shouted, breathing heavy. First she shot me, then she is tries to be all buddy-buddy with me. I just wanted to yell at her to pick a damn side and stick with it, but yelling up 2 stories wasn’t the best for communication anyway.

“I was scared for my life, but I don't mean to make enemies and I don’t’ feel right leaving things as is.” She waved a hoof at me with a smile.

“Apology not accepted. Why the hell did you shoot me in the face? Do you do this to ponies regularly?” I tapped my hoof in anticipation.

“It was an accident.”

“Accident my fetlock!" I crossed my hooves and glared to the side. " I saw you think on it for about 10 seconds. That was not an accident.”

“Sorry, I was trying to determine whether or not you were a raider.”

“Sweet cakes, do I look like a raider to you? Do raiders wear established caravan sigils and patches.”

“You were half a horse, all the way up to your smelly pits on the window, I couldn’t tell what you were wearing.”

Angry, hungry, and hurting, I scoffed.

“My neck hurts. You stay right there, I'm coming up.” I barked up to the mare.

“Fuck you bastards, get me down from here, you stupid cunts.” A voice screamed out from above. It was the raider from before that got stuck in the wall earlier with the lances.

I looked at him for a moment, and nonchalantly added, “You can stay there and think about what you did.”

The purple mare said something along the lines of, “Hey, you might have trouble …” or something, but I didn’t listen.

It took me a little while to find the entrance to the building. As I was walking around, I noticed my gear had gotten wet on the inside. Go figure, I thought, my cold pack got pierced. I couldn’t say that I was surprised. I stumbled through several halls of the apartment complex. As far as ruined buildings went, it was rather par for the course. Over turned tables, broken glass, scattered papers, broken furniture, and all the other favorites. I couldn’t say I was paying too much attention to them. I was on a personal mission, and it gave me tunnel vision… until I noticed the stairs were completely totaled. They had collapsed in on themselves, and there was no evidence of a way to break through.

I spent several minutes looking for another stairwell, but to my chagrin there wasn’t any such stairs around. Eventually, I found an elevator door that was probably pried open with a crow bar. Running down the open elevator shaft was a long rope with notches on it, and a smooth rope, probably for rappelling. I gritted my teeth, and started climbing. It wasn’t that ponies and ropes couldn’t work together, but they certainly weren’t friends.

The rope was latched into a wall by a heavy rivet. It didn’t go all the way to the top, but it went high enough to reach an opened door on the second floor. With some inspection I discovered the stairs weren’t compromised beyond the first floor. I walked straight passed the purple mare, not even acknowledging her.

Up a flight of stairs, I stumbled through room after disorderly room, barging in on skeletons in bathtubs and skeleton couples enjoying the last moments before things fell apart. I’ll admit, I wasn’t the best with spacial awareness beyond the art of throwing ponies. I kept looking around for a broken window, but after 150 years without maintenance, there were a lot of rooms with broken windows. Eventually, the purple mare showed up behind me again.

“Looking for this.” She said, her hooves on top of the metal fridge.

I squinted at her and she smirked.

“I figured as much.” She said with a sigh.

“Don’t touch my things…” I bit back.

“I didn’t want some raider finding a way in here, and taking it… After all, it looks rather valuable from the tech.”

“Fine. Thanks. Thanks for that and thanks for shooting me in the face. Gimme the damn fridge.”

"Fridge? Are you joking?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Just gimme it."

She leaned the box back as I stretched a hoof out for it. “Forgive me.” She said with starry eyes.

“….hmmm, you drive a hard bargain. I… forgive you.”

The mare looked at me quizzically but still surrendered the fridge. No sooner did the box make it to my muddled mitts when I spoke back, “Why the hell did you shoot me?”

“You were being followed by quite the cadre of raiders. After getting hit by a giant flying box, I felt inclined towards mistrust. You never know who is trying to kill you.” She said with a frustrated look on her face.

After a little grumbling, I sighed. “You aren’t helping the global mistrust thing, but I do get that. My name is Tumbleweed.” I said, opening the latches to the fridge and browsing about inside.

“Well, Tumbleweed, you were pretty fierce in that fight earlier. The name’s Scapegrace.” She grinned. As petty as I was, she helped me and was being civil, so I decided now was a time to refresh myself.
**** **** ****

“You have some weird habits. You could be attacked by anypony, and you choose to do laundry.” Scapegrace scoffed with crossed hooves.

Some time had passed. I had situated myself with an ancient wash basin and a box of Abraexo cleaner. Some of the faucets were still functional in the building, which told me an earth pony had to have built it. It was good to wash my face, because the smell of it was making me nauseous and I just felt dirty.

“A business pony has to look sharp." I said with a grin. I leaned in towards Scapegrace as I continued to scrub. "Besides, I already had you shoot me today... I don’t want anypony else mistaking me for a raider.” I said back. Scapegrace dismissed the comment with a chortle. I started taking off my gear. I slipped off my jacket, and pulled the over-shirt over my head. It involved a lot of pinching and shuffling on my part.

“Hey, can you help me get out of my barding. It’s a royal pain on my own.” I asked.

Scapegrace flushed red as she faltered back. “Are you sure you want to take your armor off around me? I might just be waiting for you to lower your guard.” She said with smirk.

“Hehe, I am keeping you in range. My guard is never down.” I bragged. That was the wonderful nature of the sweet science of hoofticuffs. I was ready, even when I wasn’t. She smiled at the sentiment and walked over to give me a hoof. She helped pull the straps on my sides, letting the leather woven armor fall loose.

Looking up and down, she gawked at me. “Mi amore Cadenza, you have a lot of injuries!” She blurted out, leaning in on my back. She poked a hoof right into one of my gun shot wounds. I had forgotten the number of injuries I had. The armor had smeared blood over my coat around the wounds.

“Ouch! Get off me already, I’m fine!” I flailed, but she hung on.

“You’re fine? The dotted lines on your shoulder say otherwise. Geez, what the hell happened to you? Either you have hell of a kinky mistress, or you became a radigator’s chew toy.”

Damn it, she poked me again! I knocked my head into hers, and she finally stopped hanging on. “uhhn… What was that for?”

“Stop poking me in my injuries!”

“Oh, whoops. I thought you said you were on guard.” She joked. “I have some healing potions, let me help you out.”

“You have what now?” I asked, dunking a rag into the abraexo solution. I only started scrubbing out the bloody stains on my coat when she started pushing a flask filled with a sickening burgundy fluid inside it. It reeked of rotten xander root and old broc flower.

“Drink this. It will heal you in no time.” She mothered.

I could feel my stomach heave at the thought. “Hell no, don’t push that in my face. I’m fine.”

She poked me in one of my gun wounds.

“Shimmering rainbow colored fuck! That hurts!" I said as I buckled at her touch.:Fine, I get it. I’ll do something about my injuries.” I said, putting down the coat. I had my own methods of self-care. "Geez, what are you trying to do? Kill me again?" I muttered as I shook my head. I moved over to my fridge unit and browsed for a moment. After a breath of time, I settled on a dish I had recently fallen in love with. It was a dish of grilled mantis legs. Grilled was certainly healthier than having them fried. I had marinated it with a red wine sauce for at least 72 hours before cooking it with coriander, basil, onions, mushroom, and copious amounts of garlic. The marinade helped sink the flavor into the gooey gelatinous insides of the legs. The outsides were crisp and carried that nice charcoal scent. I opened the plastic contained I had it in, and fished out two legs with my teeth.

Scapegrace’s coat seemed to take on a subtle tint of green while watching me. “What is all that?” She asked.

“Food.”

She shook her head at me. “Food isn’t going to heal your injuries…”

I puffed my chest out in bravado, which kind of hurt, but I ignored it. “Earth ponies are creatures of the soul, and food is medicine for the soul.” Between retorts, Scapegrace’s eye’s made the subtle switch from focusing on my eyes, to the mantis legs sticking out of my mouth.

“A-are you eating a… bug?” A pail coat washed over her. I nodded with vigorous enthusiasm. “Ew ewwww ew, disgusting!” Her tail fritzed as she leaned away.

“It’s crunchy, nutritious, and delicious.” I said, as the satisfying crunch of carapace rang out as I bit down. Scapegrace looked beside herself for a moment.

She reeled back. "What is wrong with you?"

"You said deal with my injuries." I said with a grin, letting the mantis leg hang out of my mouth.

“Eating bugs isn’t going to heal your injuries!” She was distraught.

“I’ll be fine.” I added. I saw the gears turn in her head as she redoubled her efforts.

She took on a slight red glow as she approached me with the potion. “I am not going to deal with you dying on my conscious. Doc Grace is in, and its time to take your medicine!”

I stumbled backwards as she pressed towards me. I fumbled over the wash basin, splashing water about as she pushed me towards a wall. “I am not drinking the stupid potion!” I cowered as I chewed.

“Tough Love, Baby!” She said cornering me. I actually got a good look at her face. She was really dirty, but with a little cleaning could have been really cute. Her coat had a depth to it. She had particularly glittery eyes, I might have gotten lost in them, but the putrid smell of potion kept me firmly in the realms of reality. Just as she was about to shove the vile vial down my throat, I stuck out my tongue at her, with a weapons-grade payload of chewed bug guts in tow. Her complexion took on a weak green hue. She backed off.

“That is the most disgusting thing!”

“Hey, when was the last time you had a bath?” I asked.

“Don’t switch the focus. This is about you.” She tried dodging, but I could smell the insecurity.

“Oh, come on, I’m fine. But, look at you, you look like a ghoul.”

“I do not!” She turned into a flickering red.

I snickered as I waved my tail back and forth. “Do too!”

We bantered back and forth. Suddenly, there was the raspy groan of a ghoul.

“Bloody fucking Luna, you two are insufferable!” The voice groaned out.

Scapegrace and I jumped up with an “EEP!”, unconsciously wrapping nervous hooves around one another. We looked to see that the body in the bathtub was leaning up and looking at us, with the most baleful eyes.

“Give the dead a rest already! I’m trying to play dead, but I don’t’ think I’m the only vengeful dead that would rise after listening to you two. I don’t care what you do, but get a fucking room…”

The two of us were absolutely mortified. Bleached white, I hoisted Scapegrace over my shoulder, I grabbed my clothes, armor, and the abraxo cleaner before dragging my refrigerator out of the room. “Pardon the intrusion.”

I got a few rooms down before Grace started hammering her hooves at me. “Let me down already! You’re bleeding on me…” She tried to poke one of my injuries, but it had already closed over.

“Sheesh.” I muttered, leaning over to let her down.

“That was incredibly embarrassing,” said Scapegrace. “I feel like a child.” She added.

“You’re telling me! I just had to say ‘you looked like a ghoul’. I am not gonna forget that. I feel like a total Trotflank.”

“Could you imagine if that was a raider?” She asked. “That would be super embarrassing.”

Some wasteland traumas were great, others were just because you got caught with you pants down.

I surrendered to the fact that I was probably not going to get to wash my gear until later. At the very least, I had washed my face. I was willing to settle for that. I popped open the metal fridge and fished out a jar of water. While Grace was still recovering, I swung the open jar in front of her, splashing water all over her face.

“wha- Huh!? What are you…?”

With a wash rag draped over my hoof, I jumped the mare, scrubbing her face with a vengeance. "Hey, I'm just going to clean your face a bit."

"I don't need your help, I can do that on my own." She panicked as tried to turn away.

"You could have prevented this yourself. This is judgement." I joked as I reached over her body, trying to curl my hoof around her neck to get to her face. She flailed, throwing a flurry of hooves at my face. She backed up as I guided her down the hall with my cleaning assault. She got me good in the eye, but I kept scrubbing. Beneath the cloth, her face was puffy and angry, but she had a shimmering coat.

I snapped a hoof down to point at her. “Ha! I knew it! You’re a--“

“Crystal pony?" She replied, cutting me off. She sighed as she looked away. "Yeah, what about it?”

I circled around to get a better look at her. “I just had my suspicions. You didn’t exactly hit on the earth pony idiosyncrasies.” I grinned at her. "Its cool, I've never seen one before."

She rolled her eyes at me. I apparently angered her, but after all the trouble she caused me, I hardly felt sorry.

“So what is your deal anyway?” I asked. “Most folks don't like spending their time in places that are full of raiders.”

Flipping her mane out of her face, she smiled. “I’m a treasure hunter.”

“So you’re a scav!” I said with surprise. She shot me a killer glare. The anger was visible at the ends of every strand of hair in her coat. I kicked up a pile of scrap metal towards her. “There you go! No need to get shot bumblefucking around.” I laughed. "This place is dangerous, y'know."

Something in her coat changed as she began to glow. She scoffed kicking away the scrap. “That kind of stuff is chump change,” She said in a firm voice. It was like I flipped a switch in her head. I felt like I could make 25-50 caps off that particular piece, given I was selling to the right pony, so I felt a little insulted on my tastes. “I hunt out information and data from before the war. Anypony can find a piece of metal and hawk it on the streets, but there is so much information out there that was lost in the great deluge. It takes a keen eye and the right knowledge to know where to go and what to find.”

The past was a scary idea to me. They were ponies, clearly willing to blow up a perfectly good world, and even so, they weren’t very good at that. They got rid of themselves, and I felt safer because of that. “Can’t say I deal too much in the issues of the past.” I added closing up my fridge.

“The past is important. Ponies are trying to recreate the wheel, when so many of the answers already exist, if you know where to look for them. This kind of town can be a treasure trove.” She said flicking her tail about.

“Still, the place is full of raiders. What are you doing here alone?”

She sighed, looking down at the ground. She shook her head. "There is something I need to find. I'm not sure if it exists, but I really don't have a choice." Scapegrace walked over to a window and looked out on the town. “I hired a number of ponies to assist me. This was a target I had my eye on for a while, but I didn’t have a backer until just recently. Raiders have been swarming lately, so I had to make my move before the option was blocked off entirely.”

“So what happened to them?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“They turned coat. Apparently they wanted to cut me out of the equation.”

I gave a firm frown. I walk over to her side. “So you can’t turn back?”

“Not a chance. I told myself I would put everything into this, and I even paid a fair amount to hire some ponies for support…” Her coat flared a fiery magenta. “I am in the red, and I am not going back empty hooved.”

“That explains the dirt on your hooves, and why you were so willing to help me out.”

She tilted her head to the side. “I need help, and I usually am not good at asking for it, but I am out of options.”

“Don’t tell a merchant like me that, I might swoon.”

“Blow it out your ass.”

“You’re crazy.” I said with a grin. “A good merchant would cut their losses. But a good merchant won’t come back a victor. I’m making hell of a gamble, myself, so color me sympathetic.” The crystal mare’s glow was a fiery color, and just like flames, it was infectious. I didn’t realize how her fury was becoming my own, but I wasn’t against it. It wasn’t a controlling force, but an inspiring force.

She smiled back at me. “I was worried you wouldn’t be up for it. You don’t seem prepared for riding into a raider nest.”

“I am an Entrepreneur, and a risk taker by trade. I have just enough smarts and strength that I am willing to play the odds. I have strength of my hooves, and the edge of my wit as a weapon.”

Scapegrace began settling down into a vibrant purple color: not glowing, but not dull either. “So what are you here for?” She asked.

The embarrassment washed over me as I searched for the words. “Have you ever met somepony who is a better pony than you, and thought that they were meant for something big, that they were going to be important to do some good for the wastes?” I paused, taking a moment to put on my over-shirt and jacket. “Well, I think I found a pony who is just like that, and I am working on a job that is big enough to demand of somepony like that.”

“What’s his name?”

My mind went blank for a moment. I totally forgot his name. I was feeling so strongly about the issue, too…

“Caraway…no… Crowley... oh wait, Cauliflower. That’s what it was. Cauliflower.” I spouted off.

“You don’t remember his name, do you?” She stared the guilt into me. “You are crazy.” She added. “What did he look like then?”

“He was a crazy looking Zebra with a penchant for an eccentric style. He had a wide brimmed hat that always shaded his eyes, with tons of bottle caps affixed to it. He had a vibrant poncho with these intricate designs on it. He had golden spurs on every hoof, and he had two, shiny, shoulder holstered guns, like they were spared the end of the world.”

“I might have seen somepony like that earlier, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“Help me find him, and I’ll help you out with whatever you are looking for. Sound like a deal?”

“Sounds like a deal.”

“Alright follow me.” I said to her, turning around and hoisting my fridge onto my shoulder and walking toward the elevator shaft. Or at least I thought that I was walking toward the elevator shaft. After walking in a circle around the halls, I had demonstrated a complete lack of navigational skill. Scapegrace giggled as she tapped on the walls to get my attention. “Maybe I should take the lead.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Sure…”

I followed Grace down the elevator shaft.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>----------------------------------------------------------------
What are you looking at? No level up. Try back later.

Author's Notes:

Thanks go out to Kkat for the original, it is a full world to take chaotic strolls through, and thanks to all parties involved in the Fallout franchise.

So, this took way longer to get out than I had expected. The chapter had been finished for weeks, but I put off editing for a while. Looking back on this chapter, I apologize for how long it is. It is a weird chapter, and sometimes the narrative just doesn't do justice to the idea I have in my head of what Joker's Wild is supposed to be. If you have gotten this far, thank you so much for reading.

Next time, I will hope to have something more interesting in the author's notes. The next chapter should come a bit quicker, since I am probably going to split it up into two parts. Anyway, thank you so much for reading.