Fallout Equestria: Joker’s Wild
By Sirius Shenanigans
Chapter 4: Gardens

"Did you just ask me to weed your garden?"

Chosen one, Fallout 2

Part 1: Tongues Worth Cutting off.

She was just like the legends said. Some kind of nightmare reborn powerful and full of spite, yet something about drawing the full extent of that legendary anger excited Calypto. He could feel the thrill of an epic hunt in the light of the moon. It was a cruel world and if there were gods or goddesses, they too must have been cruel. Regardless of divinity, she was a symbol of such a goddess. Bringing justice to the divine… for a guy like him it would be a dream come true.

Calico’s powerful feathered wings stretched out, side to side. Her wingspan from tip to tip was twice the length of her body. The gasping alicorn took a short gallop to catch the wind underneath her wings. She clawed the air, climbing up past the amphitheater’s acoustic dome towards the town hall tower. The newfound sting of pain, a wasteland favorite, was burning at the forefront of her mind. She would shed blood for blood.

She ascended at a steep angle, aiming to spear my favorite zebra bastard through the cloud layer. She crusaded skyward towards the heavens, but as she rose, a shadow fell over her, eclipsing the moon.

“W-What the-- You maniac!”

It was a good word for a backwards zebra. Taking to his back the accursed moon his ancestors feared, Calypto dove from the balcony, blinding the alicorn to his assault. The flash of gunfire cast back the cloak of shadows, revealing Calypto’s zealous grin. His hooves lit up Calico’s usually invisible shield with rippling sparks of arcane static. Woefully unprepared to deal with raining zebra, her ascent buckled under the increased strain . The javelin of light from her horn sputtered with the collision. Her spearing arcane strike piffled against Calypto’s cloak.

“How did..?!?”

“I’m dragging you to the ground, demon.”

Three earsplitting cracks of gunfire came with his ivory smile. The shield shuddered as each bullet popped another vein in her eyes.

Calico’s eye quivered violently. How could this happen? She was blessed with supreme power. Blessed by the Unity of the Goddess, then exalted by the power of the artifact clasped around her neck bearing a sanguine gemstone, lined with a dark silver emblem of a pony with both horn and wings. Power was without contest and indisputable, but here she was, smited down by a common zebra. The voices in her head had told her she would be deified as something beyond the pallor of the mundane, yet her magic failed to pierce and kill, while mere bullets nearly cracked her ultimate shield. Ha... She was getting wasteland 101. Again she thought, ‘how can this happen?’

“You’re all spent.” Calypto said as if peering into her mind. As her wing extended, grasping for air, Calypto pulled his second revolver. One, two, three, four shots, echoing that ear-shattering sound through the barrier. Calico’s shield crumbled as the concentrated pressure from the bullets tore through her arcane capacity, sending her writhing. Arcane feedback was a bitch. For a unicorn, there was nothing like hamstringing the dildo sticking out of your skull. It sent pain back through her horn like a lightning rod to her brain. Before Calypto was able to line up a killing shot, Calico thrashed about, launching him into freefall.

He crashed across the acoustic dome, luckily breaking the fall with his face. Who’s Sunny Faceplant now, Calypto?! The zebra rolled along the curve of the top, momentum almost sending him plummeting to an early death, until his cloak caught a frayed divot in the wood.

Calypto snickered at the alicorn, bedraggled, bloodshot, and with the look of delusion visibly fading. Not a goddess. Not the Nightmare Moon. Not a legend. It was a point of victorious rebellion against his ancestry. Fear of stars... fear of goddesses... they were things lost between the ages. He could make them mortal, so that they may be judged. Calypto wouldn’t catch himself stuck in the past like his tribe. Calypto knew he could win simply from observation. She had cast not one, but three exhausting spells in succession, not including the roundabout rodeo I sent her for. She didn’t know how to pace herself. It was merely a matter of catching her when she was trying to do multiple things at once. She knew not her capacity.

“Lesser creature…” Calico muttered. “How can I fail like this?...Submit to me-- Don’t move!”

Calypto raised his gun.

“Put that gun down--”

“No…” Calypto interrupted. The alicorn gasped in terror, but he just squinted at her. “What were you expecting me to say?”

Calico grit her teeth as her horn glowed. A faint light enveloped her wounds as the flesh melted together. “You insignificant fool, I will make your death--”

A bullet interrupted her, burying itself into the same spot the previous bullet had. Calypto fired another shot, aimed at her head, but his aim veered off target under the sudden pain shooting into his leg. “Aghhh, fuck!”

“D-D-Don’t shoot! Stop! ...Bow!” Fear welled in Calico as she sputtered in panic. For the first time, she understood what it meant to be alone. It crawled inside her and made her weak. It was something she thought impossible… and without the Goddess and the Unity, what support did she have? Fear of death poured into her like a bitter elixir. Fear of emptiness, fear of the abyss... How could one face death knowing that it may mean they cease to exist? For a wastelander like Calypto or myself, it was a familiar question asked frequently. It forged how we live... but for a pony robbed of the ability to think for themselves for so long, coddled by their own apparent invincibility, the revelation shook her violently.

“This is judgement.” Calypto said as he guided the barrel of the revolver. “Count up your sins.”

Calico screamed. The pride that held together the frightened pony shattered to pieces and escaped to distant places. She could feel the wrapping of the coil, no longer a goddess, dragged down to the earth by mortality. In a moment of insanity, a wild bolt of arcane lightning burst through the dome of the amphitheater, erratically tearing it into pieces.

“Crayon-colored bitch!” Calypto muttered as he found himself riding an avalanche of debris. One chance! He desperately tried to shoot Calico down, but after the first two shots missed, his guns simply clicked at him rebelliously as he tumbled to the ground.

Coughing in the decrepit air, Calypto looked around. Lying in the wake of her destruction, he grinned to see that the self proclaimed ‘Devil,’ was nowhere to be seen. “On the whole, I think that went better than expected...” He tried moving right hind, but it ignored him, giving way for a surge of pain. He growled. “Still better than expected…”

From the looks of things, Calico had badgered off. For the zebra, it felt good to make a powerful creature run away, but he liked it better when the one with the broken limb was somepony else. That was actually a trend with pain-inflicting things. Preferably not done to him, ideally done to those with an inclination to evil.

‘Now what?’ He thought.

The strange message in the Town Hall radio room came to mind. It was strange, getting messages by freak chance. It was a combination of splattered blood, broken radio parts, and the decay and erosion on the floor itself. Not just that, it was an organized thought! Things resembling letters or even words were not unheard of in the bizarre way the world worked, but random wasteland coincidences seldom demonstrated such complexity. It could not have been by chance, yet somehow it was elegantly constructed with transient features. It was the type of message that would only be good for a short amount of time. It was even in zebra. Every feature pointed to a simple conclusion. It was specifically for him.

To save, to risk, to sacrifice. They are noble goals, and as one who seeks them, you have the heart of the hero.

Calypto liked these opening lines...

I bring gifts to lead you to the next sun. For those you wish to save, look to the east balcony, and the path will be open to you. Do not follow them. Go to the clock tower and you will find the courage to break through the darkness. Follow your instinct! This is my plea, from the past, across this balefire veil, for the sake of the future. Oracle of Sol.

A message from the past? It was an enchanting sentiment, but mindlessly following something so idealistic could get you killed. Still, what brought this to mind for Calypto was the eerie concluding line of the message.

P.S: Sorry about your leg. Tie a stick to it or something.

Calypto found himself leering so that maybe that soothsayer might see. Prophesy fulfilled, his leg was busted. It seemed prophetic, but if they could see the future why would they need a post-script!? Couldn’t they have mentioned something to prevent the breaking of limbs?

Calypto drew out a cigarette and lit it. He rattled his golden spurs, making a resonating metallic sound. Taking a drag from the cigarette, the zebra blew a silky cloud of smoke around himself. Forms started coalescing in the ashen cloud.

A snaking figure emanated from the small computing device flat against his back. It was coiled in a faint electric static with a slender green body that had designs akin to those of golden circuits. Its small golden eyes had tiny circles around them, peering out of its black, sunken sockets, and it had crystalline teeth that pierced through its jaw. The figure stared at Calypto quietly.

Reaching into his bag, Calypto pulled out a strange pellet. The electric spirit lashed out towards the pellet, eagerly, only for Calypto to pull it out of the way before it could devour it.

“Sit…”

Scowling, its eyes glanced back and forth, not knowing where the pellet had gone. The spirit emitted a thin, vertical projection of light from its eyes before surveying in 360 degrees. When it brushed over the pellet the zebra was holding, it immediately snapped towards it. Calypto slammed his hoof down over the things head, pinning it to the ground with his spur.

“I said, ‘hold on’, damn it!”

The electric snake did not seem to take much offense, nor did it seem to listen. It wriggled enthusiastically despite being pinned, extending a thin, wiry tongue out in a desperate effort to reach its beloved pellet. Calypto gave it an icy glare.

“There is a clock tower in this town I need to find.”

The pinned spirit snake bunched itself up in what seemed like a rather serpentine version of a shrug. Calypto rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, I know you don’t know where it is… Chances are, this tower is old. Old and forgotten things can awaken as spirits, and those things roam around. One of them might know the way. You should be able to devour one of them in the area for their knowledge of the layout. Sound good?” Calypto held the pellet over the pinned snake’s head.

The snake nodded emphatically.

“Good.” Calypto dropped the pellet to the snake. The spirit tried to catch the pellet in its mouth, but as it was snapping vainly to get the pellet, it got caught in one of the grooves on the spirit’s face. It didn’t seem to mind though as it extended its tongue, licking all over its own face until it found and coiled around the pellet it so very much desired. Grasping the orb firmly, the tongue dragged it deep into the spirit’s cavernous mouth, never to be seen again.

Calypto lifted his hoof as the spirit began to fluctuate in size. The spirit grew jagged, black, pyramidal spikes with silver bars connecting them along its spine. The detailing of the circuitry became more intricate and the spirit gained an extra pair of eye sockets adjacent to the first pair. From the snout of the spirit, a fluorescent glowing blue tendril extended out from both sides. It seemed to carry some electric current.

The spirit looked pleased with itself and its studly, spirit body. It wiggled in triumphant narcissism. Calypto stared at the creature, unamused. The spirit only became more vigorous with its elaborate wiggling. Calypto scowled before clapping his hooves together. The spirit’s attention instantly shifted to the jingling of the golden spurs. Calypto then grabbed the spirit’s head with his hooves, pulling it in to stare it dead in all four of its eyes.

“I meant today.”

To Calypto’s chagrin, the spirit’s eyes displayed an image reading “Loading… Please wait.”

…

Calypto did the only logical action to try to speed the computer spirit up. He kicked it.

The spirit continued to load, however, a message appeared on screen. “Tip: Grenades can sometimes look like apples, but have poor nutritional value and can be detrimental to your health. If you do swallow a grenade, please contact your local Ministry of Peace Poison Control Center within three to five seconds.”

Calypto’s rage sizzled. “Damn it, Linux! I am going throw into a bathtub!”

The spirit’s eyes swelled. It quickly switched its monitor to an “OK” sign. Calypto took another drag from his cigarette and blew a cloud out around him. As figures began to move around in the smoke, Linux scanned deliberately.

“Linux, just pick one and eat it.”

The spirit rolled all four of its eyes before finally lashing out at something. It seemed to be insectoid, but it was difficult to tell in its current manifestation. The snake engulfed the other spirit quickly with its distending mouth, devouring it completely. It then belched, and Calypto could feel his hair rise with static. Linux lied itself down, satiated to an extent. It was now picking its teeth with the long luminescent tendrils coming out of its snout.

“Alright, one more thing…” Calypto looked at the spirit. “I want you to splint my leg.”

The spirit simply turned away from him. Calypto dragged Linux by its long slender body until he had it by the head again.

Calypto glared down into Linux’s eyes, his veins pulsing with anger. “I need you to splint my leg.”

The spirit looked away from him, blowing its tongue toward him.

“Excuse me? Don’t play around with me Linux.”

The spirit started flicking it’s little tendrils at Calypto. Shortly afterward, a low battery light flashed on the spirit. With a belch, it shrank back into its punier form. Calypto clicked his tongue.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

The spirit then opened its mouth, and two small plug-like fangs folded out from the roof of its mouth. The spirit bit into Calypto’s shoulder, bonding with him. With a pulsing glow echoing through Calypto’s stripes, the spirit disappeared into his coat.

Using some spare cloth and a short metal pipe Calypto managed to splint his leg although it was a painful process. Bringing himself to his hooves, he found himself able to manage a quick limp. He thought about regrouping with Scapegrace, but as he looked around, there was a mass of raiders pouring out from the alleyways.

Ptaff! Ptaff! Ptaff! Ptaff! Ptaff! Ptaff! Raiders fell right and left as their heads splatterered into a red gravy. Soon enough the remnants started to rise up in amorphous abominations. Just looking at them made the hair on Calypto’s back rise on end. Something was wrong about them. He reloaded as fast as he could, but when he drew his gun across to the raiders and fiends, he stopped. They had turned on each other.

“Gah! Hahahhaha! My bullets just got a lot more useful.” Calypto picked himself up and nodded to the strange monsters. “Thanks for the help.” He said with a sadistic smirk. Holstering his guns he clapped his spurs to the ground. “Alright, point me to that clock tower.”

*** *** ***

“It’s been awhile, Boss.” I said into the cumbersome radio piece. With a click of flint, I sparked a fire on my small personal stove. “How are you doing this fine evening?”

“If I could strangle you over this radio, I would do it, Tumbleweed!” Ditzy shrieked over the airwaves. Her voice was shrill, but also with the soothing ghoulish likeness of a garbage disposal unit. Needless to say, she was terrifyingly adorable. “What did you do this time?”

The usual question... It was a common staple of our relationship and one I kept dear to my heart.

“I do not know what you are talking about, because I am a ‘Responsible Pony’ and I do not get in trouble…” I said in a robotic cadence as I stared into the small vessel of water before me.

Miles away, the ghoulish business mare spit at the ground. Pulling the cuff back from her suit, Ditzy glanced one eye at her watch; the other eye checked over a scouting report. She was the hardest working business mare in the entire wasteland and her dreams were so big that she couldn’t ever focus on one thing at a time. “I’ve got a long way to go before I’m crazy enough to believe that, you bumble muffin. Get to it, Tumbleweed. Fess up. I don’t know what you did, but I know you did it!”

At this hour in the night, I was already feeling the effects of fatigue. Even as she berated me, my attention wandered to the pot of water refusing to boil before me. I stared at it with all the authority I could muster. Watched pots had to boil eventually.

“That’s… I was just… You don’t know that I’d… ha... Damn it, I’m calling to report.”

“That’s great!” Her voice was rich with sarcasm. I could never quite do right by her. “I’d like it if you called in to tell me you’re still alive once in awhile... It’s hard to tell with you. I never know which radio silence is going to be the last time I hear from you. You’re worth more to me alive than dead.” Ditzy said.

She always made a lot of unreasonable demands like ‘don’t die’ or ‘do your job.’

“It’s hard to get a radio out here boss.”

“And yet you always seem to find one when you need to…” Ditzy waited for an answer I wasn’t going to give. “Fine, where are you calling from?”

I leaned back, wrapping my hooves around the centennial sofa chair in preparation for the oncoming storm. “I’m calling from a little town called ‘Ponyville.’”

“*!@^#$&!%! Tumbleweed!” Ditzy screeched, her voice morphing over the radio into some ancient cacophony of sound and anger that only loosely resembled language.

Despite her surging wrath, I always loved the sound of ponies shouting my name. A conflicted grin stretched over my face. I was lucky my boss couldn’t see it.

“What in the muffin loving hell are you doing in a forsaken raider nest like Ponyville?!”

With a big, strong hoof, I forcefully struck the mischievous look off my face to rally my wits. This was a big moment for me, and I would only get one shot. To anypony else, it would be a completely pedestrian phrase, but these were words that I seldom got to say. I drummed my hooves against the table, and cracked the joints in my neck. I stood up, planting one of my hind hooves majestically on the radio table and the other gouged into the cushion of my sofa chair. With one hoof, I pulled the radio microphone close to my chest; I cast out the other, pointing to a metaphorical horizon and all of its beautiful, imaginary serenity. I smiled.

“I was doing... my... job!”

Not even all the caps in the wasteland could pacify the raging beast howling on the other end of the radio.

“By what kind creative, tribal, voodoo logic do you plan on using to explain how going to a raider hole is what I told you to do?!”

I couldn’t contain my repulsive excitement as I turned towards the microphone. “First of all, according to the calculating logic instilled in the robotic heirlooms of my ancestors, I have yet to get in trouble.”

“Your ancestors were a bunch of crazy, muffin chucking idiots!” She fired back immediately with an adorable growl. “That’s no exaggeration, either! I knew those crazy ponies.” She clearly did not respect my ancestors... neither did I, and for good reason. “Get to the point. Caps are the lifeblood of this wasteland we’re building, and it’s our job to get the caps moving around the wasteland so that ponies stay alive out there. Time is caps. You got that?” As angry as she was, it was always with a big heart. She had a grand design to help other ponies, and as a defiant pony by nature, I couldn’t help but wander out of line, even if it was an inspiring plan. It was anger of her heart that made her scream.

“Alright, alright.” I said tilting my head. “I found a town.”

“That town better be the golden city of El Dorado!”

I brushed the dirty scruff of my chin.. “Actually, I like to think of it as the lost city of Coltlantis.”

The radio buzzed with static for a moment, but even over the radio I could feel a change in Ditzy’s attitude. “Tumbleweed, could you repeat that again?”

“Code: Seapony.” I said with a calm tone that betrayed the excitement edging to burst out of me.

I could hear the sound of Ditzy knocking over whatever drink or stack of documents she had on her desk. “Tumbleweed, what did I tell you about saying things that make me spit my muffin!?”

“No jokes this time, Boss. Code: Seapony.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Back at Junktown, she shiftily glanced from side to side, crossing and uncrossing her eyes as she did it. Ditzy started whispering into the microphone. “So, it is a real code: Seapony? Are you sure? Is it clean? Is it sustainable?”

“It’s crystal clear and flowing in rivers.” I said.

“…Sounds too good to be true.”

“I’ve seen it, too.”

Ditzy must have been scratching off the skin of her puffy deformed head. “Do they have a water talisman or something?”

I realized I didn’t know how to explain that they had some kind of magical, equine, water genie without it sounding like the crazy medicinal pony from my hometown. “Something like that...” I said with a jewel of sweat rolling down my head. “If I remember correctly, aren’t there a couple towns that are in a tight space for water in the area?”

“Let me check the record…” Ditzy said before going quiet for a little while. Water was something exciting for a pioneer. All life needed it and wastelanders were no exception. Where there was water, you could build civilization. It was absolutely exciting. Almost as exciting as Killjoy storming into the room without any care for any concept of privacy or courtesy, like he owned the damn place!

“Hey, Tumbleweed when are you-- Woah! What the…” Killjoy reeled back, fumbling his hooves over his eyes as I desperately squirmed to cover up my precious ‘tumbleweeds’.

Killjoy scrambled to the doorway, peeking out from behind his hooves. “Am I interrupting something?”

“YES!” I shrieked like a filly as I fell over into the sofa-chair. “Do ponies not know how to knock where you come from?!”

“Tumbleweed… Are you radioing me whilst naked?” Ditzy’s voice asked in a scathing deadpan.

“…No.” I said sheepishly.

The clack of a hoof slamming onto a table echoed through the speakers. “Again?!” It didn’t even take a moment for her to see through my lie. “Please do not air your tumbleweeds over the airwaves, Tumbleweed.”

“I had a good reason last time and I have a good reason this time!” I said as I tried to gesture Killjoy out of the room. He had become fixated on something that made his jaw drop. Judging from his eyes, he was either mesmerized by my shapely butt or by the symbol upon it. My symbol. It was a free rolling tumbleweed, but trailing behind it was a long, crack ridden fissure. Either way, he was staring at my butt and I didn’t want any of that.

As I pushed Killjoy out of the room, I barely caught him muttering, “…so you’re that ‘Tumbleweed’.”

I returned to the radio panting and a bit dispirited. “Fine, whatever.” Ditzy said over the radio. “I’ve got a whole list of towns that are a bit thirsty, but I think I am interested in this one in particular. It’s called New Appaloosa. ”

“Something fit into your grand plans?” I had never heard of the name, but Ditzy was smart and had two wandering eyes for these kinds of things.

“According to the record from a visit by Crowe’s caravan, it’s a big, walled settlement, but it has a low population count. It was pretty amazing for a feat by first generation wastelanders.”

“First generation, huh? Just like me?” I asked.

“Most first generation wastelanders aren’t tribals… These are ponies born from thoroughbred Stable ponies.”

I snickered. I always was an odd mug.

“As I was saying...” Ditzy hummed. “This town apparently had a larger population, but they burned out quickly after squandering their water supplies.” She said with creeping enthusiasm.

“And this place isn’t a ghost town right now?”

“They’ve got a small spring, but the amount of clean water that they can get is pretty small. They’ve coped, thanks to some long distance water runs, but it isn’t sufficient to keep the population size up.” Ditzy said. She took a breath. “They’ve got medical supplies from the Stable and a number of resident prospectors dug out an untouched Ministry of Peace distribution center. Food is a constant issue in the town due to the lack of water for agriculture, so they sustain themselves by the efforts of their prospectors and hunters. Since acquiring their surplus medical supplies, apparently some of the youths even risked the dangers of the Everfree Forest in search of food. However, there was one incident where one particular, and I quote, ‘arrogant little shit’ had a brush with something they’re calling ‘killing joke’, which caused his head to inflate like a hot air balloon, whereby his buoyant head quickly ascended into the stratosphere and has since disappeared from sight. In response, the sheriff of the town has locked up all medical supplies for rationing and banned any ventures to the Everfree forest for any reason.”

Chuckles poured out of me at the mention of the hot air balloon pony. As dangerous as killing joke was, it always made me happy, because its victims always got what was coming to them. We didn’t have time for flavor at this point, unfortunately. “I have a suspicion you haven’t gotten to the good part yet, have you?” I sneered.

A giggle snuck out from the radio speaker. “I always save the best for last…” she said, unable to keep the euphoria down. I leaned towards the speaker. “The New Appaloosa encampment is sitting directly on top of the old train station…” Just as I furrowed my brow at the words, the water on the stove began to boil. “…and they have a functioning train engine.”

“Boss, you know that type of thing is probably going to just fall apart. The chances of getting a railroad working are next to zero. You know that, right?”

“Damn right it would fall apart... if anypony else handled it. That is why I want to make sure I can watch over this little project. Think of it, Tumbleweed! Think of all the good we could do with a working train!” I could hear the youth flowing back into Ditzy as she spoke. For a moment I couldn’t hear her ghoulish timbre. I moved to pour a cup of boiling water while I listened. “The town can’t do a damn thing with this engine since they can’t spare any workers to fix it up, but the limiting factor in their population is the water supply.”

I opened a small jar and poured out a black powder into the steaming cup, the heat prickling the nerves on my face. I drew in the fragrant aroma from the concoction and I felt alive. It was my secret weapon in my weariness. “Looks like this slag town is in luck. They just so happen to be in need of medical supplies to treat their injured and to be able to venture outside their settlement.”

“I love when we get a nice triangular trade going...” Ditzy remarked as I burned my tongue on the steaming drink. “I’ll gather up some yolk and folk and see if I can’t get a caravan out by sunrise!” She clearly wasn’t planning on sleeping. She really didn’t need to, being a ghoul n’all. Sometimes I wondered if that was because she wanted to avoid what she saw in her sleep, but I couldn’t really know. What I did know was that it turned her from a rotting corpse into the fierce, economic juggernaut of Junktown.

I wafted the thick aroma of my concoction as it kicked me in the face. “Before I get cleaning up around here, there are a few things I am going to need for this town, Boss.”

“Sure, what do you need?” she asked. Requisitions were a common part of the job. We prided ourselves as a collector and distributor of tools and useful things in the wasteland… for a price, of course.

“I am going to need a couple of flamethrowers...”

I could hear the grinding of Ditzy’s teeth as she held in a furious squawk. “I’ve told you before, we do not, have never, and will never sell those types of things to general wastelanders.” She whispered into the microphone.

Junktown had rules. The caravans were made possible by three things: Supply, contract, and power. There was no guarantee that any town would follow contract. If we went arming towns with heavy weaponry, it could mean that we were giving the means of our own destruction to a potential enemy. In a world of strife, there was always greed, and we always had to be cautious. Even so, it didn’t save those towns from their struggles.

“Yeah, I know we ‘don’t sell’ them. That’s why I need a few of them so I can ‘not sell’ them to these guys.” I said as I tried to drink little drips from my mug.

“What do you need them for?!” She whispered.

“Gardening…” I said blowing the steam from my cup.

“That better be the Queen Chrysalis of weed problems.”

“Who?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Really bad bug…pony... thing. Kind of a home wrecker… She was before your time.”

I didn’t know about bugs, but in my experiences with those nasty plants in town, they were undeniably bad, objectively wrecking homes, and I from what I got from those newspaper headlines Scapegrace kept gushing about while when I was fighting for my life, those plant were definitely before my time. “That seems like an apt description.” I said as I drew a figure eight on the table with my hoof.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do for getting two … industrial toasters, for you.”

It was a testament to Ditzy’s devotion as an entrepreneur. We sold absolutely everything, even everything we shouldn’t. I smiled as I drank a long drag of the elixir. “You’re the best, boss. Also, some 1000 liter canisters, some medical potions to start them out, and a few of those fancy medical kits from the early war. ”

“Hehehe, well that goes without saying. Don’t try to do my job for me, I’ve been doing it for a whole lot longer than you have.” Ditzy said with a laugh. After a moment of pause, she sighed. “Alright, I’m not going to pry, because I don’t think you’ll tell me, but I just want to ask, how armored do I need to make the caravan?”

“As heavy as you can make it.”

She grunted. “Damn it, Tumbleweed.” She said softly. “Promise me you’ll be safe out there.”

I took a long drink from my mug and sighed. “Till next time, boss.” I said before quickly shutting off the radio. Safety was something I could never guarantee in the wasteland. Nopony could.

I sat with myself in silence for a spell. As rumbling could be heard from the catastrophe that was taking place topside, Scapegrace’s words echoed through my head…

Apparently there is a migration happening. Raiders are coming from all over Equestria… The rumor is, they are coming to choose a new king.

Raider king… Never thought I’d hear that again. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. It looks like it’s a no-holds-barred scrap to be the king of warlords… and apparently, it’s his fault.

I call upon you, the rejected, the misunderstood, the outcast, the forgotten, the pariahs of the wastes, for now is the time for reckoning. The march for the kingdom you have been denied has begun. The legacy of kings began 10 years ago, and it will echo again. A king among ponies will rise…This is Pharoah, the heart of the revolution, and this is Evolution Radio.

Pharoah… that was a voice I hoped never to hear again. It sent shivers down my spine. He had some kind of radio station, huh? It didn’t suit him. Broadcasting across the entire wasteland? Ha! It’s really just a medium for a disease of the heart. How many were infected? Hundreds? Thousands? Legends were better off being left in the past. What a brutal contagion...

I scoffed down the bitter drink and released a heavy sigh. Thoughts like that weren’t going to get me anywhere, and I wasn’t going to get far as naked as I was. I wouldn’t want my natural coat to catch fire as I head straight into hell. That was just safety protocol.

My clothes and armor had been drying by a fire for sometime. I took my time suiting up, making sure every plate of armor was secure and in position. Any hang ups out in the field could spell out death in letters made of lead.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! Hrrrrrngg- Ka-Thud!

There was a resounding thud that came from the door as the wall spat screws out of the door’s hinges. The door toppled forward, clapping against the ground to reveal an angry looking Killjoy.

Killjoy glared at me. “I knocked…” As he walked in, the irritation moved away from thoughts of etiquette to the the passage of his nose as he wafted in the aroma. “What’s that weird smell? It’s bothering me.”

I stifled my amusement into the mug clasped in my hooves as I brought it in for another drink. “It’s my secret weapon….” I said as I took a sip.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Coffee.” I said. “They say that it was brought here from another dimension by Starswirl the Bearded.” I said as I raised the mug, grinning. I blew away the billowing steam from the mug, trying to cool it down. “From how it looks, we’re not going to be getting any sleep tonight.” I turned towards the raider. “Can I interest you in some?”

Killjoy scowled at me. “ You make the weirdest offers at the worst times. I don’t have time for that. We’ve taken too much time as is.”

“I thought of it as an offer you can't refuse.” I snickered.

“... I refuse.” He said as he walked past me towards the corner of the room.

“You’ve been brooding, I see…” I said as I could see the tension gathering on his face. He was right, though. Time was ticking.

“That alicorn bitch got the best of me, and Midnyte’s gone because of it.” He said before hitting his head against the wall. “Calico's made an enemy she will regret. I’m not going to rest until I’ve pounded her into dust. ” Killjoy growled, digging his hooves into the ground. “She thinks she can come in like she is hot shit, hurting anypony she damn well pleases. She likes to pretend that she is some kind of goddess...” Killjoy took a breath. He slammed his hooves hard into the ground. “I'm gonna make her pray to one.” Killjoy wrapped his hooves tight around himself as he sank back. “Nopony hurts my friends…” It was weird hearing him say those words, but it was moving. I couldn’t tell which one was the real Killjoy, the vicious one, or the kind one. “I'm gonna take my time ripping every limb from her body.”

Maybe he was just both....

He walked toward me and took a deep breath. “I came to ask you a question.”

I walked back to my gear, keeping a calm face. “I'm listening.”

“Are you going to compete in the Equestrian Games?”

I froze for a moment… almost in a literal sense. Have you ever felt something so psychologically chilling that it gave you frostbite? Imagine that... I scowled.

“Given who you are, I wanted to know if you were here to make your claim for it.” Killjoy said with a slight tremble. He tried to look me in the eyes, but I turned away.

“You are pretty arrogant if you think you really know anything about me.” I growled. “I can’t say I’m interested…” I said shaking my head. “Besides, my boss would tie me up and have a Brahmin drag me from Manehattan to Appleloosa if I didn’t do my job.”

Killjoy looked up as a loam of dirt shook loose of the ceiling above. “It’s a war out there, and everypony has been invited. It’s a rare occasion. So what are you planning?”

I laughed a little bit, but none of it was out of joy. I collapsed to my hinds with a deep sigh. This town had three plagues: The plants, Pharoah's game, and that mare in my dream who manipulated a lonely Calico to do her bidding. The plants could be dealt with later, but I didn't know how to deal with the nightmares running around. Just my luck, the only thing I knew how to deal with was the raiders. Still, this wouldn’t be like before. I couldn’t stay on the edges of the conflict. “There is really only place left to go, the way I see it.” I furrowed my brow. “I’ve got to head into that MAS facility… although I can’t say my heart is in it.” I wanted to run away. I didn’t want anything to do with this. “I take it you are chasing after that crown.” I hummed as I sorted my supplies apart. My eyes hovered over a broken manacle that I had kept in my bag. “What makes you want to be king?”

Killjoy walked across to the far side of the room, investigating a barrel of gem encrusted spears in the corner of the room. “I’m fighting to be the king because I can’t ignore it...”

“You are going to find a grave for yourself in trying to pursue your stupid greed.” I said with acidity.

“I don’t give a damn about power or riches, I’m doing this because this is a revolution. Nopony in the wasteland can ignore what is going on here. No town can defend against ten thousand raiders.” Killjoy whipped his tail. “The only thing the world listens to is power. I’m just looking out for my own.”

“You sound like Calico…”

“Just because she’s right doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill her.” Killjoy said as he walked over to the desk with pulsing veins. “It’s just fundamental. Anypony could know that. All I have to do is become the strongest. Then, I can protect everyone.”

Nothing like this was supposed to happen. I wanted to run as far as I could, but this wasn’t something I could allow myself to run away from. Some part of me wouldn’t forgive myself. Maybe that was why I took so many challenges. “I really can’t turn away from this can I? What rotten luck… I’ll have to chase this path into that MAS facility.” I laughed to myself. It reminded me of those insipid mumblings from the pony in my dream about fate. She seemed so damn convinced it was already over. Shutting down that kind of control freak was the kind of thing a pony like me lived for. I needed that sort of spite to keep me going. “I’ll go into the facility, but I don’t plan on competing.”

“You plan on heading into the heart of war, but what is that going to do for you? That sounds like a good way to get yourself shot.” Kill sneered.

“I don't want to hear that from you.”

“You’re going to die.” Killjoy said with a laugh as he crept up behind.

I whirled around to seize him in my sights. “What did you say?” I stepped in towards him, carving my presence through his space. Killjoy shuffled back. “Do you know who I am?”

“Even if you are who I think you are, unless you have some card up your sleeve, you don’t stand a chance.” Killjoy shined an acrid grin. “You’re shaking.”

Shut up, Killoy. You don't know anything.

A memory of Calico surfaced in my mind.

That fear is just the compulsion of the body to submit to the natural order.

A cooling pearl of sweat rolled down my temple. Even as tempered as I was, I guess a pony cannot change the nature of their subconscious. It wasn't often I ran into much of anything in this wasteland that really shook my bones. I didn't want to be anywhere near this sort of competition, but for some reason I just couldn't look away... maybe some kind of masochistic fascination. It didn't really matter why I did it, but it was just the perfect thing to get me killed. So what? I wanted to prove everypony wrong, my fears, Killjoy, and this situation, everything nicely rigged against me.

Killjoy’s brow clenched down into a firm glare. “It’s dangerous out there.” Killjoy paused, his eyes darting around. “Even if you are Ramshackle.”

“You seem to have me confused with somepony else.”

Killjoy scoffed. “You don’t have my kind of magic. You’ll be a stain on the walls before you know it. It’s suicide. You know it, I know it.”

“Are you trying to look out for me?” I said glancing back at him. A corrosive, whimsical laugh leaked out of me. “I might as well take that as an insult.”

“You're terrified.” He said, giving a sickeningly sympathetic stare. There was nothing quite as revolting as raider tears.

He was right, but it was starting to piss me off. “Let me tell you something I've learned from experience...” I said as I walked away from him. I shook my head, scattering out the things that were tearing away my cool. “In this wasteland there are a lot of powerful creatures capable of killing you, but when you gather them together, ponies should be at the tip top of the list. No question about it, numbers are strength.” I scowled. The taste in my mouth was more bitter than my coffee. “There is this old saying...” I said to myself with a chuckle. “Friendship is magic...” I turned my head to Killjoy. “And it's the most terrifying thing in this entire wasteland.” I raised a hoof. “You see that many raiders rising up together, you should be scared.”

Killjoy just shook his head. “Damn, I don't get you at all...” Killjoy mumbled. “You know it's suicide, and you still insist on going in there.” Killjoy sat back and pulled out a small, woven doll that had been fastened to his belt. Killjoy seemed to stare longingly at it. After a trance-like pause, he stuffed the doll away. “You still plan on going despite that?”

“I did make a deal.” I said, gritting my teeth.

Killjoy smirked. “I'm beginning to think--” Suddenly his jaw fell slack and his eyes widened. “wait... Are you actually trying to get yourself killed?” Killjoy stumbled. It was like he saw something unsettling in the way I was unshaken. “You don't actually care about your own life, do you?”

When I smiled, it left a revolting taste in my mouth. “I like to spend my time doing things other than being afraid of death.” I walked back to my pile of gear. “But I've been blessed these past years. I happen to like my job. Glory Road has been good to me, so I have no intentions of retiring.” I said as I sorted through my bags. I wanted to travel light. I would take only the things I needed.

“You're up against raiders, the plants, and all those things straight out of hell, and you still are gambling on luck?” Killjoy said as he began to pace around me.

“You and every other raider are straight out of hell.” I said as I cut him off. “Have a little pride.” I grinned. “Besides, I don't really care for luck.” I said as I dove back to my saddle bags.

“Y'know... you're really different when you cut the bullshit. It's hard to even tell you are the same pony.” Killjoy said as he walked over towards the desk. “If you think I'm going to waste my time helping you, you'd have to be nuts.” Killjoy barked. “Which I think you are given the breakneck deal I heard you work out with that captain mare. You think you can actually pull any of that off?”

“I don't know, but that is where I start out with most of my jobs. I’ve got friends out there, my boss is going to send a bunch of packrats in about six hours, and there is a pretentious mare that tried to talk to me about junk like fate and the end of the world, and I’m really looking forward to rearranging her face...”

“Woah, woah, woah, look at you...” Killjoy circled around with skeptic gaze. “You want to fight the whole damn world all by yourself. You don't even know if your friends are alive. How are you going to do anything alone?”

I took a deep breath. “Who ever said I was alone?” I said as I calmed my nerves. “I've got the wasteland on my side.”

“Is your brain damaged or something? You seem to have a lot of faith in things that don't give a damn about you.” Killjoy quipped.

“The wasteland and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, Tough Cookie.” I said. “Now that I think about it, this situation couldn't be better.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I dug a hoof to the ground. I was ready to spit words. “I waste a lot of time worrying about guns and bullets, but it doesn't really matter if they aren't pointed at me. There are a thousand raiders eager maim and dismember each other. I figure I will let them do it.” I said, speaking quickly. I sat back on my hinds and brought a hoof to my chin. “If you add those mutated freaks, then that just makes it more festive.”

Killjoy moved to take a swig of water. “You think they aren't going to try to kill you?” Killjoy spit.

“Not anymore than anypony else.” I smiled. “And with how those monsters pop up when those raiders kill anypony, their guns are going to cause more problems than they solve. They are going to be rather preoccupied. I'll let them play on their own.” I stretched my forearms across my shoulder. I shook myself loose. I needed to be light and fast.

Killjoy grunted as he relocated his shoulder joint that had only recently been mended from when I broke it in our personal fight. Killjoy scoffed. “That's an interesting way of looking at it.”

I felt like a madcap, but some part of me was resigned to that. “Against an army of raiders and mutants, I wouldn't stand a chance, but I don't intend on picking fights that I can't win.”

Killjoy rolled his shoulders before stamping his hooves to the ground. Bits of dust shook free from the ceiling. “I don't know how you plan on doing something so damn brave by being an absolute coward.”

I cracked open the door to my refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of rum. Rum for the dead, booze for the brave. I unscrewed the cap and took a drink. “If you want to be the daring rogue, you have to be able to run for extended period of time. That's the life of adventure.” I joked as I turned my focus towards my saddlebags. I needed to take only the bare necessities. Speed would be my friend. “This situation suits me just fine. I don't have to kill anypony, I can settle for beating the crap out of them. It makes no difference to me.”

Killjoy kicked back into one of the many sofa chairs strewn about the room. He shook his head at me. “You miserable bastard son of a bitch... I still think you're gonna kill yourself, but I've got to say I'm impressed with just how enthusiastic you are about it.” Killjoy laughed. “...Gold star.”

“You really are awful at reading me.” I said as I sifted through the junk. Cooking ware, maps, caps, I didn’t need any of them. Sleeping pad? Useless. I was hoping to find some left over healing supplies. I wasn’t sure I was willing to stomach drinking a potion, but it was always fun to force it on somepony else. “Even if I’m terrified, I’ll make my gamble.” As I was searching, I stumbled upon the strange pink horseshoe. Where did that even come from? Did I get it from the MoM outpost? I was in need of a replacement shoe, and as embarrassing as it was, it seemed to have a strange compartment at the back of the hoof, as well as a weird note sticking out of it. It was also finely made. I took a moment to inspect the balloon shaped gemstones that lined the bottom of the shoe. “The trick is to move with the flow of the wasteland. Some time ago, I studied under the wise-assed martial arts master who trained the Vieri Da Amore back in New Reino.”

“New Reino? It figures you'd know the Amora.”

“And believe it or not, I may have actually learned something from them.” I said as I took note of the small cubic device jutting off the side of the horseshoe. “The nature of the wastes is chaos. Stiff and rigid plans only take you so far. If you want to succeed you have to go with the flow and crash of the wasteland. You have to find the harmony in chaos.” I rambled as I inspected the shoe.

A small, folded up note was attached to the horseshoe. I unfolded it and scanned it.

MAS Supplemental Commission 083- Party Hoof

Auditory Trigger: “Party Time!”

Party Hoof? Honestly, I didn’t care what it was called, I just needed something on my hoof.

“So that is your plan? That is a really interesting way of saying you're gonna wing it.”

I laughed. “It’s what tumbleweeds do.” I fixed the tacky pink horseshoe to my hoof and clapped it to the ground a few times. “I've got a wild wasteland wind at my back, and it's going to carry me through.” I said as I swooped up my fridge.

Killjoy jumped to his hooves. He stomped along side me with a glare. “You can do whatever you want... I've wasted too much time here. As far as I care, we're enemies from now on.” Killjoy made his way to the exit. “Try not to get in my way.”

“Wasn't planning on it.” I said as I tested the whip of my tail. I thought about telling him that the water spirit had been generous enough to provide some ice to preserve his friend's severed leg, but I figured that it would be a nice surprise down the road.

I strapped on my gear and shook my muscles live and loose. All I had to do was do the impossible. This hero crap sucked… It was what I chose, though. I hated being responsible like this, but maybe it was what I deserved. I took one look back at the note and gave an unsure smirk. It was now or never.

“Partytime.”

Author's Notes:

It has really been way too long in trying to get this part out. It really is an interesting section, I think I've rewritten the latter half at least three times. We are starting to get into some stuff I think people will find really interesting. It is kind of a talky chapter, but I kinda like those chapters. I'm going to see if I can throw a bit more action into the next sections, but we will have to see about that.

I'm really thankful for the people who have stuck it out so far.