Fallout Equestria Joker’s Wild
Chapter 3: Star Crossed Town
By Sirius Shenanigans

After reviewing your town’s application, we are sad to inform you that Ponyville has not been selected to receive a fully functioning MAS Sparkle Reactor due to its affinity for class 1 to 3 disasters. Ponyville’s eligibility has been rescinded until further notice.

Letter from MAS

“...Will you get out of my stuff?”

“He-yaaaeagh-lll noo! Arh, yowch! You looked at my stuff, so now I get to dive through your stuuAAAAH- Tirek with a Tire iron, is it possible for you to make this any more painful?!” The pitch of my voice bounced about, peaking high and swooping low. I felt like I was being played with, like a puppet, which was appropriate with Grace, sewing up my wounds. I was getting sweat on my sweat, and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.

“I mean, I could try, but I don’t want you to pass out.”

I was, once again, half naked, in the dark corners of a ruined building with a mare sadistically poking me in my wounds. She had upgraded from doing it with hooves to poking me with something a little bit sharper.

“I’ve learned… ow, fuck…”

“Sorry…”

“I’ve learned over the years that doctors are smart ponies. Most ponies who like cutting up other ponies get labeled as psychopaths, but somehow they get ponies to want them to cut them up. Let me tell ya, that’s smart!”

“I’m doing this to help you out.”

“I get that…” I said gritting my teeth. Helping ponies through pain... what a twisted world we lived in! Unlike Calypto, I had opted out of pain killers, because I liked being able to feel where I was going, and I couldn’t afford to be loopy in a place like this. My injuries weren’t that bad when I was running around, but without any adrenaline pumping, this was a nightmare.

Scapegrace pulled the head of the needle out of my blood caked wound with her teeth. She had a kerchief in her mouth so that she didn’t have to make love with my wounds every single stitch. She fed the needle into the cavity in the ‘seamstress’s glove’ she was wearing. This kind of thing would be impossible to find in most places, but every once in a while, the wasteland smiles upon you... at my misfortune, of course. I stifled my pain by biting my hoof. Calypto wanted us to ‘save’ some ponies that might be in this crazy town, but forget that!-- Somepony save me!

“Keep it down or we will have a swarm of raiders riding down on us.”
“You are worse than the raiders!” I squawked back. I had to be tough, but without a unicorn, the process was even more physical than usual. I hated everything in the universe, and mostly, I hated Scapegrace, bless her. The wasteland was a dark, dark place, and happiness was a lie. Damn it, why did this hurt so damn much? Why did I say, ‘no, I totally don’t want pain killers, I need to be at my most attentive when we get back to fighting?’ ‘Sewing wounds shouldn’t hurt too much.’ Who the hell was I kidding? I decided to take a mental note.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I am an idiot.

Your Faithful Student,

Tumbleweed

P.S. Why don’t you return my letters???

“Oops,” Scapegrace said with a concerned look on her face. “Alright, the string broke.”

She really was sadistic! “You mean we have to do this all over again?? If you break the string one more time, I swear I will take that needle, shove it down your throat, and embroider your stomach, you hear me?” My wounds were already sore, and her sewing wasn’t making anything better. Oh, she was the artist of my distress.

She sighed. This was not the first time in the process I had resorted to vain threats, and as it looked, it didn’t seem like that trend was going to change. “Alright, what color thread do you want?”

“Color is a lie in this cruel, bleak world!” I cried as I searched deeper into Scapegrace’s bag for what meaning there was in this terrible world of pointy needles.

“But we have so many fancy strings to work with!” She went starry-eyed at all the tailoring supplies she had found. I could only imagine what heartless thing she was planning.

“Just pick one!” I said as I began searching through her bag again. She was really well versed in several avocations; it was surprising given how I saw her. She was klutzy in a way that was going to put me in my grave. She wasn’t a great medic. She had the sadism and wickedness necessary for sure, but it was clear she hadn’t done this often. Even so, she seemed to take care in refining her process. Always absorbing, always learning, always growing.

After a little while she started sewing again, and I started screaming internally. Just as I was about to give up all hope, I then found the bountiful treasure I was looking for.

“We-----ooww—lll, yowch, hah, well what do we have here?” I said, brandishing the saucy magazine. When Scapegrace saw it, her jaw fell loose, dropping the needle to fall to the side of my wound.

“Put that away!” She said, turning an adorable shade of red. I could see her squirm a little inside. The tables had turned. Where was Cadance for you now, Scapegrace?

“Why? This is for team work, so I can get to know you better! So why do you have something like this?” Despite the piercing pain, with a mighty hoof, I cast open the pages to unveil the worlds of her desire. My face transformed into a judgemental squint as my eyes gazed upon the images of stallions in various states of dress… and undress. They had things… some flopping about, others standing with robust vigor, depicting stallions staged in preposterous poses with all manner of goofy props. They clearly designed for a mare’s fantasies; they were in such lofty locations as fancy luxurious beach houses with a view at sunset, the kitchen, in soft, rose petal covered beds lit by candle light, and by flora covered waterfalls, the kinds of places no self respecting stallion would naturally appear in. The weirdness level was elevated by the fact that, to my knowledge, places like these didn’t exist anymore. They had major themes with some of the graphics they had chosen, trying to convey concepts like “Good with foals,” “Amazing listener,” and “committed.” It wasn’t my first time coming into contact with these things, they were all over the wasteland.

“…I-I-I read it for the a-articles.” A fluctuating Scapegrace said as she fumbled around trying to get the magazine from me.

“That is brahmin shit and you know it!”

“No, there is an excellent article on arcane magical weapon use and maintenance!” Scapegrace said, almost jumping on top of me as she wrestled to try and get to the magazine.

“Oh really? If only it could make you more accurate, I might not have all these scars!”

While we were squabbling, Calypto walked back into the boutique to find us all over each other. He had gone out to set up mines and to survey the area.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, get over here. Come look at this magazine with us!” I said to Calypto while blocking any of Scapegrace’s advances. Bewildered, Calypto walked over to us.

“Stop it!” Scapegrace added vainly. Vengeance was sweet.

I opened up the magazine to a page that was particularly goofy to me. “Look at this stallion…” I flipped the page, “now look at this stallion. They are like the same damn pony, just different colors.” I flipped to another page that featured body pics of several of the models all next to each other. They were all making a silly looking kissy face. There were three ponies that were almost identical, labeled ‘Ferrari’, ‘Blue Steel’, and “Le Tigre.’

Calypto raised an eyebrow at this. “You two are weird…”

Scapegrace finally grabbed the magazine from me and stuffed it in her bag. Her color seemed to return to the usual coat, but there was a residual tone that remained.

“Sorry, Snagglehoof, I was just playing aro-aaaaaooowww fuck fuck fuck fuck…” She started ruthlessly sewing my wounds together. A once benevolent technique had taken on new forms. The new technique embraced quickness and pain as its priorities. Terrible wailing urges festered in me; I found solace somewhere in the place between my clenching teeth and the hoof they were biting down on. After a while, I started just thinking about my favorite foods and exchange rates for various supplies to keep my mind off the pain. After a little while she was done.

Some time has passed, but it was clear that all of us were antsy. After all, who wouldn’t be in this situation? This town was unusually active, and it was too hot to be getting into such hot things. Still, we weren’t turning back, and I think we realized that might just be suicide. There was an art to sitting on your hooves, and if we were going to sit on our hooves, we might as well do it strategic cally.

By the time Scapegrace had found her way to a bunch of medical supplies in Ministy of Peace first aid kits, I had already started stuffing my face with various delicious treats. With a disgusted look, she decided to toss them to the side.

Everypony was getting shifty-hooved. The clinking of spurs echoed through the boutique as Calypto paced. Gracie was pilfering the corpses of the raiders from earlier. Calypto had a vigorous rhythm to his strut, but it was the look I saw in his eyes that made me a bit worried.. They reflected an ugly nature I was all too familiar with.

“Carroway…” I called to Calypto. He turned to me, raising his hoof to his hat. “If you plan on going to war, you are going to need a bigger gun…”

The zebra flicked the cylinder of his revolver open for a second. It was a tick of his. “hmph, there isn’t a lot of eye work in a big gun. Save that for a more reckless soul. My eyes are good for putting bullet shaped pegs through raider shaped heads. I find my guns are pretty good for that kind of thing.”

While I listened, I opened my fridge and browsed the selections of food. “If you have good eyes, you should take a look at this town. I wouldn’t make a bet on a pair of six’s.”

“Maybe I’m feeling lucky.” Calypto sat back and crossed his arms. I fished out a radigator steak and closed my fridge.

“You have dangerous eyes right now. You have that ‘I’m gonna kill every last raider scumbag’ je ne sais quoi about you right now.” I said, training my gaze on the zebra.

I knew I hit the mark when Calypto laughed. “Bullets are a solution to a problem, and the raiders have got to be dealt with. The choice is simple to me.” Calypto said in his usual nonchalance.

“I never got the idea that you were here to kill raiders. Maybe I’ve misjudged you. If you want to kill raiders, there are plenty around in the wasteland, but you are going to run out of bullets out there, and you are going to run out of bullets here if you try your luck here.” I kept a cool face, but inside my mind was shaking. Conversation wasn’t always about conveying what needs to be said, I needed Calypto to show me what his values were. Try me Calypto. What will you do, I thought.

I saw Calypto stopped in his hooves for a moment. It was a subtle thing, but I could see him making a choice as his hoof hovered about his revolver. To my relief, he cast his hoof away from the gun and walked up to me. The color of his rage seeped through his actions. Even with his face eclipsed by his hat, I could understand his rage.

“What is it that you would want me to do?”

“Just to hold yourself back a little bit.”

“I’ve spent a little too much time sitting back and watching. Have you ever been without hope? Have you taken a look in those eyes, see that part of the soul break apart in these dark times.” Calypto turned his hat up, showing me eyes bent by rage, telling of all the emotions in flux as he fought reason with his soul. “I’d kill all of them to save even just one. The wastes are in need of a judge.” Calypto gasped as anger and exertion robbed him of breath. I took a spell of pause, just to soak in all that I had heard. The wasteland had a way of bringing out the evil in others, but just as trauma can break a noble heart, it is able to forge one.

“Will you two stop fighting? I thought you were friends…” Scapegrace added as she came back into the room.

“You are a good zebra, and I believe in what you said, but sometimes you can’t kill this many raiders.” The words hit Calypto with a sour resonance, but I kept speaking. “You are the kind of pony I think we need in the wastes, so if there is a life that I don’t want thrown away, it would be yours.”

“What good are morals in times of danger, if you choose to run from raiders?” Calypto fired back in anger. His fuse was getting shorter and I had to be careful, but I wanted to smile.

“I never said we were going to run. We can’t kill all the raiders, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to save anypony.” Calypto hesitated in his glare at hearing my words. “Something is going on in this town, and it is drawing raiders in. There wouldn’t be a need for this many raiders for taking out a band of squatters. Even if you kill them more will show up…”

“He is right. There are reports of raiders migrating easterly. Bullets won’t solve the problem.” Scapegrace nervously said. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words eluded her.

Calypto turned away in accrid agitation, focusing his gaze beyond the window. “The raiders don’t deserve mercy…”

“I won’t ask you to be merciful; I want you to be tactical. We are going to live a lot longer if we can keep the attention off of ourselves when we go out. If we die, we can’t save anypony. We can do this, but we are going to have to be smart about it.” I said.

“Going straight into a raider-fueled clusterfuck is not a smart idea!” Scapegrace inserted.

I turned to her with whimsy. “I never said it was smart, I just think if we are going to do something dumb, we should smart about it!” I accented the statement by dropping my shoulders. A memory of the past flushed my whimsy away, replacing it with a colder tone. “Individuals can be simple to deal with, but groups are troublesome. And ponies are the most terrifying in a group. We can fight raiders, but with this many, we wouldn’t last at all.”

“You’re probably right…” I heard the unexpected words from Calypto. Did I break his pride? Debate was soul’s battlefield, but I hadn’t wanted to douse his fire. Any foolish idea of that I had smothered his spirit was blasted away as, in a vibrant turn, he struck a hoof through the side of my face.

“… but don’t give me those kinds of looks, you cocky bastard.” Calypto grinned back at me.

The strike was something sloppy. There was a little evidence that he had some concept of zebra martial arts, but it lacked the follow through to make it really hurt. The pain wasn’t too much, but my senses were on fire because I could feel everything that punch meant. All of the emotion, all of his intensity, were carried in that strike and resounded through my body. I looked at Calypto with a grin, and he raised the brow of his hat showing the fire in his eyes. His eyes were those of the proudest wasteland creatures, declaring its rebellion against a world that doesn’t respect its power. Scapegrace was lost in the exchange, glancing back and forth hoping to find reason in things. Calypto and I continued to glare at each other, before I felt the faint taste of blood in my mouth. It made me laugh. With a gathering swish of spittle in my mouth, I spat a wad of spit and blood out to the side, but I didn’t break eye contact, it commanded my full attention. The intense moment boiled up and soon I wasn’t able to hold the forces back.

“AHHHHHGGH!” The scream burst out of me as I leaped forward. Calypto yelled back as he met my approach. We locked in shoulders in a battle to overpower each other as we collided, holding back no strength.

“I feel you! I understand, you sketchy, striped bastard!” I screamed as I pushed forward.

“What was that?! What does a dirt-rat like you know?!” Calypto yelled back.

“That you are fearless Zebra warrior with a strong wasteland soul!”

“Damn straight! You candy colored, stripeless bastard! ”

Scapegrace was looking for a place to step in, but the argument was beyond her understanding and she feared she would draw the lens of our ire onto herself. Then, just as she found her footing, we backed off from each other. Then I swung my right hoof out, and Calypto did the same, and we locked at the elbow joint, pulling ourselves in.

“Brother!” Calypto yelled out in joy, and I laughed heartily with my soul.

“Brings me back to life in my home village! You are a swell fucking bastard, so don’t take shit from nopony, ya hear! I was right about you! I want you guarding my back!” I said shaking Calypto by his elbow.

Scapegrace was twitching on the side, unable to keep up. “Are you guys trying to kill each other, or what? Because I can’t tell!!”

“We are having a ‘stallion moment’.”

Scapegrace merely shook her head in after wasting more effort than she was willing to permit on understanding the ritual.

“So, what the hell was that you were trying to pull? Asking loaded questions, trying to make me prove myself?” The words were rough, but it could not quell the powerful resonance of the moment.

“Was it that easy to tell?”

“I could smell your bullshit a mile away!”

“Guess I’ve got blood on my hooves!”

“You crooked flank!”

“I had an idea of what kind of pony you were, and I wanted to know for sure.”

As we bantered, a pair of raiders I had knocked out had awoken to find themselves stripped to coat, and with their hooves bound. The first had his front two hooves bound together, and the second one had her back two hooves bound together. They had heard the commotion and were trying to slip away, but Calypto caught sight of them from the corner of his eye.

“You didn’t kill all the raiders?”

“Killing is messy, and I didn’t feel like it. Should I fix that?”

The pair of raiders looked to each other as fear took hold of them. In a panic, they hobbled with haste out towards the door.

“Nah, that is okay…” Calypto smiled. “…I’ve got it covered.”

There was an explosion outside, followed by screaming. The two of us couldn’t help but laugh. I was pumped, and I was in a place where fear couldn’t touch me. How many raiders were in this town? It didn’t matter.

“So, do you have any ideas of where these ponies are hiding? The ones we are trying to save, I mean.” I asked.

“The distress signal pointed towards the town center, so I think our best bet is to check out there.” Calypto replied.

“Scapegrace?”

“If we wanted to avoid getting violently ventilated, I think we really should wait for nightfall.” Scapegrace said.

“Sounds like a plan. We should have a bit of time, so handle your needs.”

I looked at my two compatriots. It had been a while since I had some ponies I could really depend on. We could have stopped here, but even as we prepared to jump straight into to the fire again, I felt exhilarated. It was going to be hell of an evening, and if we didn’t die, then that would be a bonus.

I grinned as the plans played out in my mind. “Get Ready!”
*** *** ***

Author's Notes:

Thanks go out to Kkat and everybody who helped make a Fallout game (Interplay, Black Isle, Obsidian, Bethesda, ect).

It's been a while, but I really wanted to get updates moving again. Chapter 3 is a bit of a doozy, but I think that it has a lot of fun stuff. This section was written a long time ago, so I really should have had it out earlier, but hopefully updates will be faster.

By the way, I have some friends writing FOE stories as well. Be sure to check out Kyler Adam's Stable Scout LINK HERE!
Also, check out Almanac Pony's "Letters to Celestia" LINK HERE!