Chapter 19: House Rules

The Figure took his eyes off the roof and leveled them back onto Dawn.

“You... what?” He asked totally confounded after hearing the retelling of Dawn’s drug addled misadventure.

“It was a bad trip, what can I say?” Dawn said a little embarrassed.

“Bad? You were convinced of your own nonsensical demise at the hooves of  random tourists, taking solace in a bartender. You were off your fucking face.”

“That may have been the case, but it blew over. Eventually.”

_____________________________________________________________________

“Ow.”

The Jet had crashed.

Dawn was laying on something extremely comfortable. No, The most comfortable thing she had spread out on in her entire life.

The only thing subduing every other sensation in Dawn’s body was a sharp searing haziness in her skull. It felt like a beaker of sizzling acid was slowly poured into her skull, painfully gnawing through her brain, hissing away as it burned through her grey matter.

“Rico told me everything.” A voice said, the noise stabbing through Dawn’s eardrums. A high frequency spear plunging into her brain. Agonizing.

Dawn’s eyes were locked shut. She tried forcing them open, to no avail. The voice was clearly Trouble’s. She couldn’t see him, she didn’t care to see, but she knew he was there all the same.

Hoofsteps could be heard, loud and clanging. Two at a time, he was on his hind hooves again. Or as usual.

“You’re on probation. You’re fuckin’ lucky I’ll give ya that.” Trouble continued, “If it weren’t for Tyke you would have a concussion.”

For once Dawn wished he would just shut up and leave her be.

“I know you’re awake. You were shaking all night. I had ta tell Tyke to leave, she was fuckin’ standin guard with a loaded gun.” he was getting flustered, bothered and building anger.

“Shite! Dawn, ya can’t be messin’ with jet. Rico is a sound lad buh don’t be fuckin’ played by him. He’s smarter than he lets on.” the hoofsteps accelerated.Trouble was obviously pacing.

“Say sumfin.” Trouble ordered, his voice stern.

Dawn’s voice reacted on its own accord, her brain verbally reflexing without her consent.

“I’m sorry.” She pathetically offered.

“Nah, not yet.” Trouble replied coldly.

Dawn felt a chilling wave crawl down her spine, jump starting her base functions.

Her eyes slowly opened, the room staying in an unfocused blur. Trouble was still wearing that bright, vibrant suit.

He was pacing in annoyance back and forth, “Ya know, we’re gettin’ an audience with the head honcho of the strip in about two hours. Now, we need to sort ya out. Get your hair done, arm you with some proper kit.”

“What?” Dawn nauseously asked, her brain couldn’t decipher Trouble’s words, they crashed against the impermeable haze inside her head.

“Guns. Very important stuff.” Trouble said childishly, clearly patronising her.

Dawn’s vision started to focus again. She tried pushing herself up with her fore hooves. They shook violently and gave way. Her energy was depleted.

Trouble huffed.

“You may pass out, don’t worry. Ya just need nourishment.”

Dawn glanced around the room, it was lavish. The walls were polished wood with scarlett paint halfway up the wall running to the ceiling high above. A large crystal chandelier swung from the ceiling, illuminating the room.

In the corners were wardrobes, closets and tables with tall bottles of fine liquor . Adjacent Dawn was a night stand on it was a small revolver and a radio set. She expected nothing less.

Trouble approached her, slung one hoof around her and hoisted her over his shoulder.

He pulled her up and carried her to the door. Her head limp, every bounce staggered her vision, pushing her further away from consciousness.

Trouble pushed the door open, as they entered a long hallway with an identical colour scheme Dawn’s vision imploded. The last thing she seen was the length of the hallway, and the vast number of doors lining it.

***

Dawn’s vision pulled through once more, she was seated in another room.

Trouble stood in front of her, unclipping his pistol belt. Her vision wavered but managed to look beyond him, to a shelf high upon the wall. There was a number of glass display cases upon it housing,

Skulls.

***

Dawn came to again. She was being carried down the same corridor leading into Trouble’s suite. Worthy strode out from the darkness, his mask adorned on his face, a voice alterer like Trouble and Razey’s coldly murdering all emotion.

“I’ve been braided already, why the sudden formality? Why am I even asking? I know you better than these clowns, say the word. I’m in.” He declared from the darkness.

“Till I say the word then, stock up. Careful with the nerve agents.”

***

Dawn awoke in the lounge of the casino. The place was calm and quiet compared to last night. Better lit as well.

Dawn was in one of the chairs, sprawled lazily across it. Her eyes were levelled with the table in front of her. Trouble emerged, or the bottom half of his suit did.

He slammed down a pint of water and 2 small pills.

Dawn stared idly at the water, the cold ice filled the clear pint glass. She knew of ice, on cold winters it formed around Dry Town, it was never a good thing. Many ponies froze over in the night, when they were found the next day their bodies were thawing, a sleek shimmering coat of ice covering them.

Ice cubes came with that, they were reserved for those who could afford them, which wasn’t many. They were nowhere near as clean and pure as these.

“Double dose of aspirin and a pint of water. You’re dehydrated ta fuck.” Trouble said as he sat next to her.

Dawn, unable to move, limply sat there.

Trouble sighed, he reached over to the pint, snatched it and brought it up to Dawn’s mouth.

“Don’t gag, it’ll make both of us look bad.”

He tipped the pint into Dawn’s mouth, her head tilting upwards.

The cool water rushed down her throat, the icy torrent of refreshment revitalised her. There was nothing as delicious in this world as this. It was pure. Purer than pure. The ice chilled her lip as the water gushed through her, clearing her head, waking her up.

Trouble removed the pint from Dawn’s maw. The satisfaction came to a close. Dawn leaned in trying to claim more of the sweet water of life.

The pint exceeded her reach, she leaned forward to claim it. Trouble pushed her back down into the chair. He clutched the two pills, and dropped them into the pint of water. A stream of fizz rose from them as the dissolved in the glass.

“Now, drink.” Trouble ordered as he lifted the fizzing glass to Dawn’s lips.

The once pure water now tasted putrid and bitter. Dawn, as Trouble warned her against, gagged, dripples burst from the corners of her mouth as she rejected the corrupt water.

Trouble, reluctantly clutched her cheeks and tipped it in at a higher angle, forcing it into her.

The saltiness was grotesque, but only lasted a short while. Soon the pint was empty.

It came down from her mouth, trails of the powder still visible in the glass.

“Mixer! Another pint of water.” Trouble called out.

Dawn’s vision caved in.

***

Dawn came back to consciousness, her head cleansed of all the haziness, but the exhaustion was still there.

Her coat and mane felt exposed, she shivered. Her eyes opened, she was staring into a mirror, what she was staring at startled her.

Her coat was scrubbed down, she was rested in a saloon chair, a well groomed unicorn mare behind her operating on her mane with surgical tools.

Her mane was very different, no longer shaggy and moppy. Overly long, now it was at an apt length, well treated. Some pony had put blue streaks into it, contrasting with the golden head of hair she was accustomed to.

There was another thing, a lock of her hair was braided, from her fringe running down her back was a thick braid, a swirling blue and gold strand. It looked good. Trouble appeared in the mirror.

A single gold streak was injected into his now oil backed mane. Reminding Dawn of the Show Pony named Blood Letter. His hair was braided at the back also. Dawn began to wonder with what meagre consciousness she had what was happening. Then it struck her.

_____________________________________________________________________

“You were being processed.” The Figure deduced ahead of the retelling.

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn awoke one final time. Outside the suite, in the familiar corridor. She seen more of this corridor than she has of the inside of the suite. She was alert now, at least.

“What did you do to me?” She hoarsely demanded.

“Fix you.” Trouble grunted back, hefting Dawn down the corridor.

She glanced up at him, he looked better than he has in days, he didn’t look so tired now, so run down. His mane made him look slicker and more contrasting with his personality. His hair was groomed, smooth, and suave. He was rough, rugged and abrasive. But both looked mature.

“I really like your mane.” Dawn said sheepishly.

“Dun worry, you’ll sharpen the longer ya stay awake.” Trouble replied, brushing her off.

Trouble entered his suite, the door left open. Dawn could finally see it as Trouble intended.

The room they entered was huge. Gorgeous.

The colour scheme throughout the suite was the same. Polished wood then scarlett wallpaper leading to a cream ceiling, a massive crystal chandelier swinging from it.

In the middle of the room was the same conference area Dawn was seated at while the argument over Rico ensued, oddly enough that's where her shades were resting. She liked those shades.

To the right was a kitchen, well sort of. it was mostly liquor. but a refrigerator was present, as was a sink and worktop. Plus a long table behind the bar counter.

To the left of the room was a huge screen, a jukebox, shelves of discs and unsurprisingly more alcohol. In the far corner was a radio like the one Night Light used to contact the Buck Himself.

Every wall had weapons on them. Bolt action rifles, old shimmering sabres. Revolvers, all beautifully decorated ornaments. Many of them were probably never fired. All beautifully preserved. They were works of art not tools of demise. Dawn wondered how much they would cost a piece.

One wall piece in particular caught her attention. A golden hilted curved sword, a long velvet tang hanging from the pommel, bright shining steel. Untarnished by time. She wondered if Trouble restored them or bought them as they were.

“C’mon.” Trouble said. Carrying her still, Dawn grounded her hooves. Trouble halted, she got a firm grip and moved with him. It was beginning to become degrading how much she was carried around. Now was the time to reclaim some pride. Her legs trembled beneath her but she managed.

They strolled to a wooden door behind the conference area. Trouble twisted the knob and shoved the door, Dawn noticed claw marks all over it. No doubt from Trouble.

Through the door was the long hallway Dawn was carried out of to begin with. She did a quick count, 8 doors either side. And at the very bottom was a heavy duty door, like the one at the front of the casino. Black coat of paint. Inches of thick steel.

To the right of that was a very strange door. The others were all polished wood, this one was tarnished, had a whitewashed window pane and the wood was close to disintegration.

A big pony like Trouble could bash it to smithereens with one buck.

They treaded down the hallway, Trouble partly walking for Dawn. Four doors down he opened a door.

“This ‘ere is your room. Across from you is one of the bathrooms. I need to show you something before you catch some sleep.”

Dawn felt a string being plucked in her heart, finally a corner she could call her own. One she worked for, one her guardian could provide. It was beautiful finer than anything she ever seen in the wastes. This was hers now, a refuge.

Alas the feeling was short lived. Trouble moved on, Dawn glimpsed in the room one final time. When she awoke it was just a lavish room. Now it was her’s. That made it special. It made it more.

She wanted to nurture that room, make it truly hers. Decorate it, it was hers after all.

Trouble pressed on, to the very last door, the heavy duty one. He gripped the wheel and spun it. The door unlocked and automatically opened.

Inside was paradise. It was original a large bedroom like Dawn’s but was repurposed, stripped out all its luxuries and was now a bank of mayhem,

Shelves, cabinets, workbenches, belts, desks, racks, cases, crates of ammunition and weapons.

Belts of high calibre machine gun ammo draping the room,  colourful shotgun shells scattered about. Automatic rifles, handguns, shotguns, swords, knives explosives, launchers, machine guns, sniper rifles.

Magazines sat behind glass panes with their corresponding weapons. Art.

She spotted a gun identical to Amigo, only black as night and this one seemed, soulless compared to Amigo. It was in a rack with 3 of its sisters, magazines and ammo for it lay in boxes adjacent to it.

Large, powerful rifles were mounted on walls. Trunks under benches filled with assorted instruments to sing the sweet song of decimation.

Scopes, laser sights, flashlights, bayonets, under mounted weapons. Anything and everything you can imagine to enhance a weapon was here also.

One weapon stole all of Dawn’s attention.

A tame monster lay on the workbench to Dawn’s left.

6 Barrels.

The length of a pony.

Ammo longer than a scurrying radroach.

Belt fed, and it looked hungry.

Black as night steel construction.

“Tha there is a Vulcan.” Trouble clarified in admiration.

“Vulcans churn out six thousand of those bullets a minute, roughly a hundirt bullets a second. Ery’ last one of those bullets could sail through a foot of concrete and still turn yer head inta paste. If ya want ta fire it ya have to jenny her up to her drum, tha holds twenty thousand rounds. Jus over three minutes of carnage. High explosive ammo, if ya wanna carry this thing inta a fight it would take a four pony crew to carry her, or if you want a three thousand round pack tha can be arranged. It’ll deafen you though. Still three thousand of these bullets could bring down a small city. To fire that gun for ten minutes would cost me over half a million caps.” Trouble said his voice in awe, Dawn stood gawking, her mouth watering.

“Let me put it in context, twenty five millimeter ammo, that’s one inch in diameter. one hundred rounds a second, if this thing swings by you or anywhere near you even for a half a second thats fifty inches of molten explosive ordnance in you, literally sawing you in half. Beware the pink mist kid.” Trouble had a soft spot for this thing.

“Ever use it?” Dawn managed to blurt out.

Trouble was slow to answer “Twice, once was wiping out a small army, the other was a small city. It’s effective to say the least.” There was something in his voice Dawn couldn't pin down.

“Take what you need later, one more room and you can pass out for an hour.” Trouble declared as he carried Dawn out of the armory.

They pushed through to the door to the right, opposite the ruined one.

“My room.”

Inside was Trouble’s pistol belt on a huge four poster Queen sized bed, the beds were identical throughout the rooms.

To the right was the sight Dawn seen when she was passing out. Skulls. Not just pony skulls. Oddly shaped ones, huge ones. A unicorn one. Dawn didn’t know her horn was a bone until now. Griffin skulls, pony skulls and other skulls. Bigger. Much bigger. Nearly a dozen of them.

Dawn gulped, she felt insecure in this room. The bed itself was surrounded by orbs the size of a foals skull wrapped in cord.

Just looking at them put Dawn on edge. They were peculiar things, egg shaped. Glowing a demented green, pulsating. Nearly three dozen of them lining the entire bed, small aerials at each post of the bed. There was something very wrong here, Dawn could feel it.

“Trouble, what is this?” Dawn asked scared. She felt a chill race down her spine.

“If I go, everyone in this city goes with me.” He staunchly answered, this didn’t directly answer the question but was more than satisfactory for Dawn.

Nervously she asked another question “How do they you know. Go off?”

“Det cord hooked to each balefire egg, relaying to those aerials. Remote detonation.” he coldly stated.

“Where’s the detonator?” Dawn asked, a little frightened of the answer.

Trouble dropped her in a nearby chair and rushed over to his bed. He reached under a pillow searching bashfully.

Dear Celestia No.

He yanked out a small handle with a rubber aerial prodding out the top. A small cage around a red button.

He slowly returned to Dawn, fondling the detonator.

He grinned before tossing it at the table next to Dawn.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” She yelled in panic.

She threw herself into a ball in panic. Little it would have done. The plastic handle bounced onto the table without drama.

“Hahaha do you think I’m that stupid?” Trouble asked giggling.

Dawn puffed out in relief, her heart racing. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again.” She warned, trying to settle her heart rate.

“Stupid? Nah... Crazy? Maybe.” he said in hushed voice.

He looked at Dawn fiendishly and popped the small cage, exposing the red button. A bright green LED on the handle.

He grinned maniacally at her “Do ya have it in you kid? You could blow these fuckers ta bits. Turn ‘em all inta ash, if you’re so inclined. We could ruin this place, together. Shall we? We’re only one push of a button away from ending it all. All this greed, corruption. Gone in one purging flash.” He whispered to her, his voice jumpy. Startling.

Dawn sat there panicked, “Are you serious?” She whispered back horrified of his sudden swing.

He licked his lips and stared at the floor for a few seconds, contemplating it, the digit on his exoskeleton he used for pulling the trigger began tapping the handle.

“Quite possibly.” He replied, chuckling.

He put the detonator between the two, inches from Dawn’s face.

“Don’t tell me you fear death.” Trouble said solemnly.

Dawn remained silent.

Trouble rose his free hoof above the button, preparing to slam down. Blow them all miles high, vaporize them all. The combined blast from his armory would be enough to level New Pegas, maybe all of Freeside too.

His eye twitched, the pale scarring beneath it quibbled for a split second.

“You know, all I ever wanted was to go down in applause.” he softly whispered.

Dawn’s heart stopped. That was starkly familiar but she never heard him say it.

“Trouble!? Where are you?” A voice cried out from the hallway.

Trouble snapped from his trance, he shut the cage and hurriedly galloped back over to his pillow.

Dawn let out a shudder, as her body went lax with relief. That pony could have saved her life.

“The front door was open!”

It was Worthy.

Dawn had nervous energy now, her consciousness was nearly fully returned.

Worthy entered the room, looking curious.

First thing Dawn noticed was Worthy’s lack of his cloak was elsewhere, his whole body was covered in armour plates and flak vests finished in a coat of black paint. Fastened to his chest, on his left side was the large rifle Dawn seen on the table during the conference on Rico. There was a canister mounted beneath the barrel.

His hair, like hers and Trouble’s, had one braid in it, his hair was long like Dawn’s it was wrapped in one long lock running from the centre of his scalp, the loose hair obscuring it.

“What are you doing?” Worthy asked bewildered.

Trouble looked at his brother for about six seconds, thinking of an answer

“Contemplating the destruction of this city.” He honestly and confidently answered.

Dawn looked back and forth between the two, waiting for Worthy’s response. What she expected was Worthy to tackle his brother, or do something badass. But no.

“Again?” Worthy asked exhaling in mild annoyance, babying his brother.

“I’ll do it.” Trouble shot back defensively.

“You’re too level headed these days, maybe fifteen years ago.” Worthy bluntly stated.

“Fifteen years ago? That’s an insult.”

“You were younger, you were wilder.” Worthy offered grinning.

“We were wilder.” Trouble corrected, grinning back.

“I need you for a private word.” Worthy said, cutting to the chase.

Trouble sighed, “Right, let’s talk.”

“Not here.” Worthy objected.

“My room.” He finished before leaving.

Trouble grunted, he turned to Dawn. “I’ll be back soon kid, feel free to drift off. You’ll be meeting the House soon.” He patted her on the shoulder, before disappearing after his brother. Closing the door shut behind him.

Dawn glanced around the room. The place was a death trap. The place was laced with explosives, sharpened objects and firearms.

Dawn glanced to her left, she seen something that caught her interest.

Trouble’s full battle gear. Helmet, Armour, his Duster repaired. The Red Queen, piles of magazines next to her. Dawn felt enticed by such a succulent weapon.

Her heart stopped. Next to the Queen laying open was Trouble’s Journal. Temptation struck her once more. She knew this prying could have some dire repercussions. That didn’t stop her.

Using what little energy she had she mustered the strength to levitate the diary over to her. Carefully enclosing it within vibrant telekinetic tendrils.

She flicked the journal open onto a random page.

The Game: 

Been a while since I made an update but something came to me, paid me a flying visit. And those were the rules. The way Momma raised me, the way the family raised me, they always said there were rules hell even “She” said there was rules, truth be told there are only 2 rules and those are:

Rule 1: Rule 2 is the only rule that applies.

Rule 2: There are no Rules.

A wiser pony than I once said what a pony can do is what a pony will do if that so happens to strangle some poor bastard to death in front of his foal then those are the rules.

Sure I kill ponies butcher them, slaughter them, execute them, and torture them but that doesn’t just make me a bad pony no, it makes me a superb player at the game I wouldn’t call myself as bad as the raiders my methods have more finesse. They have no right to call me insane.

If they can’t see the rules for what they are then they should pick a different game.

And I was so very good at the game, but all I ever wanted from it was to go down in applause.

The more she read into his mind the better she understood him. And he was indeed difficult to understand.

_____________________________________________________________________

The Figure stretched his hooves into the air, groaning.

“Very convenient.” The Figure interjected.

“What?” Dawn asked.

“Trouble’s diary, how it’s always just there. His deepest thoughts, you expect me to believe he’s that complacent?” the Figure asked, offended.

“I do. It seemed a little off to me at the start too, you’ll begin to understand.” Dawn reassured him.

“You know more than you let on.” the Figure asserted.

Dawn laughed to herself, “Course I do.”

_____________________________________________________________________

The diary was returned to its old resting place. Dawn pondering her latest glimpse into Trouble’s mind.

She was drifting away. Back into the tranquil void.

Trouble burst back in, he went to speak but caught himself.

Dawn slipped back into unconsciousness.

The last thing she heard was Worthy’s voice. “Remember the Hellhound nest?”

And a familiar feminine voice slyly chuckling in her head.

________________________________________________

Worthy and Trouble stood back to back, encircled in the grim cavern. A dim light permeated the roof of the dark cavern, faintly illuminating the two. Engulfed in the depths of hell. Hell’s waiting room.

Scurrying in the darkness around them was a horde of hellhounds, scampering ravenously around them, looking for a crucial opening to pounce and claim their prey.

Worthy removed his mask and fitted his steel jaws, chomping down on them

“Clank, Clank”  They echoed.

Trouble  slowly pulled the charging handle on the Red Queen, lodging a fresh monster calibre round into the breach. The familiar black coated drum magazine was always a staunch sight.

Trouble spoke through his helmet “I never planned on goin’ out quietly.” he uttered in defiance.

“I’ve made my peace with the Lord...” He murmured through the tight fitting sharpened metal in his mouth that tore through sinew and bone like a scalpel through butter.

A grievous and heart rendering howl echoed throughout the dark cavern. The constant sound of claws banging off cold stone ceased and was replaced with an eerie silence.

“One more time, for old time’s sake.” Trouble whispered.

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn woke, back in her bed. more comfortable now than ever. Curious as to what she just witnessed.

Both something less interesting and more startling caught her attention. An IV drip was beside her bed, running into her right thigh.

She pushed herself up to get a better look with strength she lacked not that long ago.

She wasn’t ever going to ever underestimate a needle, especially when it was inside of her.

Dawn decided relax, rest her head on the soft pillow and stare idly at the ceiling. It felt good, the soft blanket, the springy and fluffy soft mattress. Gravity seemed to intensify here, pinning Dawn down under a torrent of comfort.

Dawn sunk into the bed. She could lay there for months. In her moment of tranquility, Trouble quietly entered, gently bringing it crashing down around her.

“Kid, suit up. It’s time.” Trouble announced.

Dawn groaned in reluctance.

“Fuckin teenagers.” Trouble moaned, before trudging over to Dawn.

“C’mon kid.” He encouraged as he pulled the IV from her leg, making her jump.

“Ah! Okay okay! I’m up.” Dawn said startled.

“That’s the spirit, ya need any help gettin’ yer armour on? That rifle and pistol of yours are in livin’ room.”

Dawn remained silent, she rolled off the bed onto her hooves, refreshed. Trouble led her over to the wardrobe and swung it open.

Dawn gasped.

It was her armour, true. Only better.

It had been reinforced, added to. On the tanned black hide was now reinforced with thick tufts of beautiful brown fur covering the collar and patches of her chest, covering the vital organs. The metal bracings were reinforced with rivets and studs, the purple metal armour plates had children. It seemed since there were smaller plates covering her joints now not to mention thicker plating. Her armour had been totally overhauled keeping the same pouches, overall design, and practicality yet enhancing the protective aspect of it.

It was more beautiful than ever. It was tougher, meaner and saltier now than ever. It was growing, like her.

Dawn’s eyes watered, overjoyed and grateful.

“I can manage.” She said, her voice quivering from the overwhelming joy.

_____________________________________________________________________

“A question, what about your caps?” The Figure asked.

“Trouble. He, uh, topped off my stocks. I guess you could say.” Dawn replied with her stunted vocabulary.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well after I suited up, nearly everything else was waiting for me in the living room. While I was out the others had hours to stock up. Leaving just me.” Dawn began to explain.

“So?”

“Let me explain.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn emerged into the living room to find all the others in full battle gear with the exception of Trouble, idly talking amongst themselves. Worthy was nowhere to be found.

They ceased conversation to stare at the new arrival.

“You look good.” Night Light commented. Her hat had been repaired, her jacket now brandished thick armour plates over her shoulders and lungs, pale blue steel. A bandolier of transparent Valkyrie magazines dangled from her chest rig.

“Damn good.” Rico reinforced. The slim stallion was no longer clad in a casual suit, he wore black and blood red combat armour. He sported gothic shoulder plates like Trouble, and a thick studded and reinforced ballistics vest strapped to his torso. On his hind hooves were a large pair of black square toe boots with metal caps, unusually heavy duty. In a sheath on his right forehoof was a formidable, almost novelty size, knife, spanning nearly the length of his hoof.

In front of her on the table was her gear, saddle bags emptied out. But there was more than what she was carrying on the table, she shot a confused look at Trouble. He understood immediately.

“Topped ya off, you’re mags are topped up plus a few extra, decided on giving ya some meds, eight potions, few rolls of bandages and painkillers. Of course half a gallon of water. And decided on rounding you off to ten thousand caps.” He summarized, Amigo was there, but Bad News was elsewhere.

She beamed at the treasure strewn table as the proud owner of this bounty.

“So we go meet Mr. House now right?” Night Light asked.

Dawn wasn’t listening. She was busy shovelling the new heavier load into her saddlebags.

“Not you, jus me and the kid.” Trouble replied.

Dawn stopped abruptly to face Trouble, why her? Why not Worthy? Why not Rico? Why not Night Light?

She stared in confusion before Trouble clarified.

“Didn’t you not take me seriously when I said you’re going to be the next Trouble?”

Dawn went quiet, the seriousness of her situation has now only crept up on her. This wasn’t a reward or a prize. This was a burden, being asked to put her life on the line for a living was never an ideal existence to her.

“Where’s my rifle?” She responded, ignoring the present moment.

“Worthy’s got it, he’s in the armory.” Trouble answered, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Dawn slowly left the room, only one saddle bag filled. She entered the hallway at a snails pace. Trouble closed the door behind her. Once she heard the sound of the door locking into place her pace instantly quickened.

There was muffled conversation going in the other room behind her. She couldn't care less, she was just glad to be out of there. She briskly trotted down the hall, coming to the armory door. It was already opened.

A black blur whirled around the room, twirling, rolling and whisking about flamboyantly. Weaving and ducking from invisible enemies.

The blur pivoted and spun around to face Dawn falling onto one knee. Aiming at her was a one eyed Worthy, Bad News gripped in his teeth supporting the barrel with an outstretched hoof.

Dawn jumped, she noticed the new scope on Bad News. It was more a telescope with a bamboozling amount of gadgets and odd and ends attached. The scope adjusted itself. The lense retracted and twisted. She was beginning to get nervous having her own rifle levelled on her chest.

Worthy grinned at her peering down the scope. “Bang.” He muttered.

Dawn shrunk a little, slightly fearful of him. I didn't take a genius to work out he was no threat to her here. In his brother’s suite. Even though it was more of a palace. She couldn’t feel safe around Worthy, just looking at him unnerved her, him aiming at her was downright paralyzing.

Worthy didn’t move, keeping fixated on Dawn, she didn’t move either. She was too stiffened with fear to speak. Worthy, after moments of stagnant observation, lowered the rifle.

“Hruumph. I expected more.” He said, move silently by her, carefully laying Bad News next to her hooves as he left.

Noiselessly, Worthy disappeared. Dawn didn’t know where to, but the further he was from her the more her sense returned.

She broke into pants, resting her back against the wall, she empathically looked down at her rifle. There it was, bold, black and brilliant. It was more befitting of Worthy than her.

But it was hers and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

She quietly levitated the rifle to eye level inspecting the new scope. Dawn was awestruck.

Through the scope wasn’t just a crosshair, there was a distance gauge telling her how far away the wall was, a calibre reader to adjust for velocity, a wind gauge and a small red circle which seemed to move a second behind the rest of the digital display. Impressed, she slung the rifle across her back, feeling pleased with her upgraded optics. Now her reach was as far as the scope allowed her. A sense of power came from that scoped that Dawn clung on to, she couldn't help but smile.

She entered the hall, she planned on returning to the others but froze in the hall. A sense of curiosity hijacking her train of thought.

The tarnished and beaten down door opposite the armory. Trouble failed to inform her of its function. It stood out from the others; the rest of the doors were elite, shiny brick red laminated wood, this was rotting brown wood with cherry red rusted metal hinges and knob.

And it was open, if only slightly. Dawn looked over her shoulder and both ways up and down the long corridor. She felt as if she was on the precipice of wrongdoing, nervous of someone catching her in the act.

She gently pushed in the door, confused by what was before her. A living memoir of history. This room was ruined, filthy and vastly unscathed in the repair process. The paint has melted off the wall exposing a dull grey surface. The floor was strewn with thick dust compacted and compiled with an assorted manner of earth colored filth.

It was a narrow room, more like a storeroom, or an isle in a store. Stacking shelves lined with peculiar orbs.

She seen them before, she vaguely remembered two being inside the same briefcase as Amigo, they were odd things. Blue spheres, they glowed and had a swirling mist of some description perpetually flowing behind the clear glass.

At the very bottom was a large clerical desk, on it was a radio transmitter and 3 large thick iron cast safes. Presented like trophies one resting on a high pedestal, the thickest of them all, another slightly lower than that being of the same scale and density and a lesser one across from that. Dawn hadn’t a clue as to what to think of this room. It was shrouded in a gloomy veil. She had no business here, her very presence was an intrusion of secrecy. She felt the familiar tingling sensation on her horn as magic came forth against her will. She didn’t try and fight it, she was too engrossed by this alien and outcast room.

Her vision flashed and she was thrown into another time. Another world. Through another’s eyes.

***

Dawn emerged just outside the room. The three soldiers were present. The door was the only part of the scene remaining true to history. The brown unicorn, Pyrex pressed his back against the door, his rifle at the ready.

He looked back to his 2 comrades, Goalpost the red unicorn looking jumpy, and the “Sarge” Hotspur nodding reassuringly at Pyrex.

The pony Pyrex kicked the door open, swinging his rifle in the door, scanning for threats.

He gulped, in a tense tone he called back “Clear!”

The three of them entered the grim and gloomy desolate room. As wrecked and decimated as the present time. Only lacking in the mysterious orbs.

Hotspur sighed in relief, the radio was still present. All 3 of them let down their guard simultaneously.

“OK, I got the radio we’ll see who’s active on the emergency comm channels. Keep watch.” Hotspur ordered.

“Sir Yes sir!” The two said getting in defensive stances by the door.

Hotspur galloped over to the radio, he sat himself down in the chair that wasn’t there when Dawn was. His black mane falling over his eyes as he put on the corresponding headset, the radio crackled into life.

“Mayday, Mayday. This is Staff Sergeant Hotspur of the fourth light infantry division, situation critical, is there anyone out there.” Hotspur pleaded into the airwaves.

Hotspur waited a moment for a response, none came. Only the steady static signifying dead air. He repeated more desperately.

“Mayday, Mayday! This is Staff Sergeant Hotspur of the fourth light infantry division, situation critical, is there anyone out there. Respond!”

…

“Please.” He whimpered.

…

***

Dawn returned. A little more melancholic, she offered a silent prayer for the misfortunate soldiers. She hoped against the odds that they made it to a better place, wherever that place may be.

She was back studying the room, the weird orbs, long rows of shelves. One in particular caught her attention. She was drawn to it, just a random orb luring her inwards, identical to others, but this one was drawing her in.

This orb drowned out all the others, third up from the bottom, halfway down the shelf. The corners of Dawn’s vision darkened as she honed in on the orb. Her horn bubbled with magic as her hooves moved towards it on their own accord.

The room darkened, this orb became the only light to her, the bright blue mist leapt forth from the orb, the strange tendrils suspended in mid air around the orbit, Dawn drew close enough for the tendrils to link with her horn.

A jolt shooting down her spine at the connection, but she unconsciously continued. More and more of the tendrils infused with her horn, the bright light becoming more and more intense. Finally her head ducked, her horn gently jabbed the orb and Dawn was propelled into darkness

***

Dawn was drowning in a sea of colours blurs and pulps. The world morphing before her as she remained in a state of suspension, as the world fabricated around her.

Strange shapes conjured around her, unfocused alien surroundings. The world finally fell into place. Dawn was coherent again, confused though. She was stuck, unable to move. Put she was there.

Wherever ‘there’ was. The surroundings focused, she was in a pile of debris, crouched over and waiting. All around her was crumbling and degrading high rise structures. She was hidden in a dark alley, onlooking a derelict street. Her breathing was harsh and steady. She began to realize she wasn’t in control and merely along for the ride.

Finally she let out a long breath and looked down, she had a red coat with yellow stripes running up and down the length of her hooves, with metal digits out reaching from the hooves, gripping the debris.

It’s when it finally sunk in, she was Trouble.

She could feel him, every inch of the pony. She felt the cold bite into her in the lonely and mournful night. Her powerful longs taking deep yet suppressed breaths.

The exoskeleton had actually feeling in it. Dawn could sense the slightest movement, vibration and sensation through them. This was a much younger Trouble, he was naked out here, no armour, no duster, no weapons.

Her gaze averted to the sky. High above in the clouds was a small breach, a translucent light shone through. Moonlight, not the moon itself was visible but her radiance reached forth and shyly illuminated Trouble’s vicinity in a pale eerie light.

He remained there, in the crouched position, staring out from his alley. His breathing remained strong, until his ears pricked up, catching a muffled and distant sound.

Ponies idly chatting away, several. Trouble slunk downwards, his breathing pitch reducing to a shallow inhalation through the noise, making him feasibly soundless.

3 ponies trotted slowly past Trouble’s alley. Two beige earth pony stallions with strange rifles with magazines under the stock instead of near the receiver. Trudging behind a haughty burnt orange unicorn mare. The earth ponies were all clad in a strange green gothic uniform with sparse armour plates. The unicorn was head and shoulders above the others wearing dazzling white combat armour, gothic spines and arches rippling around it, giving it a fierce look.

Trouble muttered something beneath his breath, his voice nowhere near as gruff and grizzly as it is now.

“Three Crucibles, bullpup rifles.”

The two earth ponies were dragging a limp snowy pony, with a tangled and braided flowing green mane with a large oozing gash on his flanks.

Trouble’s vision was riveted on the pony they were dragging, it took Dawn a moment to realize the open and bloody gash on the flank wasn’t a wound. But a cutie mark.

Trouble swore under his breath, from the pile of debris he clutched a large cold cement brick, and darted to the street edge. The ponies were just passing the alley, Trouble skulked up and them unnoticed.

He peeked into the street, following the 3 ponies walking the empty ruined street. The place was impossibly quiet. Trouble’s eyes were riveted on the pony they were dragging, it was Worthy.

A much younger, less intimidating Worthy. His muscles weren’t as toned. He seemed too young to be a cold calm and composed killer, and the most differential thing about this Worthy and the current one was, this one had both his eyes.

He didn’t seem to be the frightening lean, mean stallion Dawn thought him to be here, he was childish as innocent as her. Even though his cutie mark was a hideous open wound.

Trouble gritted his teeth, Dawn felt the sick grinding sound. Trouble turned into the dimly lit street, the moonlight keeping the ponies features distinguishable.

Trouble galloped in total silence, a ghost moving at them at a supernatural speed. He dropped the silence act moments before he was upon them, his silent breaths turned into angered grunts. The earth pony on the left stopped, to look over his shoulder.

Trouble leapt into the air kicking off hard from the ground, the brick raised into the air. He came down on top of the pony, the brick slamming into forehead of the pony bloodying it, a mulching noise came from the pony’s skull as the brick pierced it.

The pony collapsed, falling backwards. Struck dumb before being incapacitated and probably killed by an imploded skull.

The earth pony next to him dropped Worthy startled, and swung his rifle up to Trouble. On its way up, Trouble clenched the barrel, the pony in an impulse of freight let loose a random burst. Trouble tilted the barrel towards the lead unicorn, the bullets piercing her armor as she collapsed screaming in agony.

Trouble yanked the rifle from the terrified pony’s grip, claiming it for himself. He spun the gun in an elegant fashion around with one hoof. The pony was froze rigid in terror. Trouble tucked the rifle under his hoof and let leash a spray of the rifle, six rounds burying deep inside him, throwing the pony backwards. Killing him instantly the holes littering his torso spitting out small trails of blood.

The lead unicorn was writhing on the ground, unable to move. She lay there groaning in agony and fear. Looking into Dawn’s eyes with dread.

Trouble dropped the rifle moving in close, blood dripping from the chipped brick. She telekinetically reached for her pistol on her hip. Just as it left the holster Trouble pounced her, he slapped the pistol away from her. She let out more cries as she lay there tightly closing her eyes.

Trouble slapped her again, snapping her cheek on the road. He forced her head down against the cold asphalt, and brought the brick down onto her still glowing horn.

It splintered and snapped with a sickening “Crack”

“GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” The mare cried out, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Not dead yet!” Trouble yelled coarsely at the sobbing mare.

He snarled, bringing the brick down repeatedly on her temple, smashing through her skull, thick blood smearing Trouble and his brick. Dawn could tell, he was smiling.

The brick crashed and crashed again, turning her head into a bloody mess. Trouble grunted a final time, raising the brick high into the air.

“DIE!” He vainly screamed at the ruined pony.

The brick was brought down with a mighty force, he was strong. Stronger than he looked.

The brick broke through the thick cracked and ruptured skull bone and sailed into her gray matter and stayed there, with a stomach churning “Squelch.”  sound.

Trouble climbed off the mare, breathing in and out through angry pants.

he turned to face his unconscious brother, his mood swinging from bloodthirsty and enraged, to worried and dismayed.

He galloped to his side, cradling the unconscious Worthy, his face innocently asleep, filthy from being dragged.

Trouble brushed the air out from his eyes, Smiling lovingly at the limp pony.

“C’mon brony. We got miles to go yet.” He said, slinging his limp brother around his shoulder, he was lighter than Dawn expected. Worthy let out a sub conscious groan.

“That’s wha’ I thought you’d say.” Trouble replied, childishly making out his incoherent groan as a witty remark.

Trouble bent over to grab the bullpup rifle. He held it at his hip scanning the roads for any sign of danger. The happiness of him with his brother crept away, and was replaced with anxiety and vigilance.

The memory faded out, the last thing Dawn seen was Trouble running slowly off into another alley, hefting his brother with him.

There was one thing Dawn was yet to see.

His cutie mark.

***

Dawn returned to the room in a bright flash, breathing heavily. Shocked and puzzled about what she just witnessed, or rather, experienced.

She backed away from the orb, the tendrils no longer present. The room was back to its former terrible lighting, and the orb seemed perfectly in check with the others.

She let out a long breath. Bothered by what she seen. Torn from it, the younger Trouble crashing in domes with a brick. Somehow it was worse than doing it with an axe. There was, something undignified and savage about it.

She couldn't take it in this room. It’s very function was to serve as a hub station, a starting point. A bridge to another time.

What has been happening to her all this time, can be explained by these orbs. She was doing the thing this orb promised to do without a medium, a go between. Or at least, that was her theory.

She had it with this room, she turned to leave and froze, stopped dead in her tracks. Before her was a rather, stoic Worthy. Simply staring at her, his expression; unreadable.

Dawn retreated backwards, stumbling over her own hind hooves she fell onto her rump, panicky. She sat foalishly on the filthy, cold floor.

Worthy without explanation turned and gestured to a banner high above the door that Dawn never spotted, it read:

Remembering is loving the forgotten, forgetting is abandoning the remembered. Remember the forgotten.

The words sunk into Dawn, this room had more value than all the other rooms in this suite. It stood for something more than what this city stood for.

Worthy leaned in close, Dawn didn’t shuffle back in fear. She listened.

“I like you Dawn, and lucky for you, I don’t like talking much. You have my discretion, now lets leave. This place has grown tired of us.”

Dawn didn’t ask questions, there was plenty of time for that later. They left the strange room, Dawn looked back on it one last time, before silently promising to return there again.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Are you serious?” The Figure asked, in total deadpan.

“Do I make that many jokes?” She counter questioned.

“There is a room. In Trouble’s suite. That houses all his memories. Right?” He asked slowly, jabbing the table in rhythm with his words.

“I still want to know what was in those safes. Of all the things Trouble owned, why were they the only one’s that got any protection. I mean he had a button that could level New Pegas under his pillow, but what is in those safes is more, what? Dangerous? Volatile? Precious?” Dawn said, she was bothering The Figure, but what could he do? She was asking genuine questions.

“Worthy let you off scott free? Why?” The Figure questioned, to be fair to him Worthy wasn’t the friendliest of ponies.

“Maybe Trouble told him to look after me, he said he liked me maybe thats why. Maybe he just was in a good mood.” Dawn listed off to The Figure.

“Okay, okay. You got lucky, then what? You had to meet House. Right?” The Figure asked, nearly begging for information.

“It was just me and Trouble going, that was the arrangement. Mr. House is a very strange pony. A very evasive and cunning pony.” She said with an air of sophistication in her vocabulary for once.

“Why?” The Figure asked blatantly.

Dawn leaned in and said “You don’t last as long as House letting every armed pony within a mile of you into your home. Especially with that kind of money. Trouble had a reputation at least, and that meant a lot to House.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn entered the living room with Worthy, Trouble was pacing back and forth before seeing her saying “Finally! Let’s go kid. Worthy, orders will be here within the hour.” He briefly said before guiding Dawn by the hoof to the door.

Travelling past the table, Dawn quickly secured her pilot shades, resting them in one of the many vacant ammo pouches on her body.

Trouble led them into the hall, swinging right down the long staircase.

“Trouble what’s going on with Rico? I haven’t got an answer yet.” Dawn asked, struggling to keep up with him.

“Ugghh,” He groaned “Idiot got in debt to some drug pushers, they took everything, his money, his guns, I remember giving him his rifle as a birthday gift, the arsehole. Fuckin’ fool, I got him one o’ the best venues on the strip and still manages to lose every cap. Now he wants me to fix things, you remember when you were down in the lounge with him?” Trouble spoke quickly and with purpose, hurrying down the stairs.

“Kinda.” Dawn replied.

“I killed two of them and fucked the other one’s face up. As a message mostly.” Trouble briefly summarized.

Dawn was again confused whether to feel safe or weary around Trouble. Killing two ponies and grievously harming another merely on a friend’s wishes. Not to forget, Dawn just witnessed him kill armed ponies with little more than a humble brick. For his brother though, this was different. He had a quick temper.

They charged down the staircase, emerging onto the casino floor, the place was bustling once more. Dapper ponies strutting through the tables, the effects of the drink yet to take hold.

“You said something about a proposal earlier.” Dawn reminded him.

“Indeed I did, after we meet House.” Trouble quickly replied. Weaving through the crowd, many of them staring at the heavily armed, lightly framed mare walking amongst them.

“What was the message from House that Inky told you about?” Dawn vaguely remembered.

“He wants ta meet muh, has a job fir muh. Yer comin’ too I told him. He’s waitin’ fir us in the penthouse of the Red ’n’ Black”

Soon they were back to the thick door back into New Pegas. Going back out the VIP entrance, back down the same black corridor. The large door automatically swung open, something which Dawn found a little suspicious.

They emerged back into the stunning and vibrant colours of New Pegas, the sun setting in the distance, making no impact on the shining city, merely enhancing its beauty. Turning it into a beacon of civilization and fine living.

Dawn finally took the time to observe the other structures and their layout. The whole place was in the shape of a double edged dagger. The Red & Black being the point.

Working left to right:

There was an imposing black and blood red tower to the left of the gate. Huge ceremonial torches adorned the structure, the building thinning as it rose in steps. Tall gothic black tinted windows the whole way up the building.

At the doors were huge bouncer ponies. Chiseled Jaws, vast shoulders, thick chests and hooves like bazookas.

All dressed in black suits with blood red shirts. Many sinister ponies came sauntering to the doors, many relinquishing hidden blades at the door.

Embalmed by a perpetual flame above the doors was “Sodom”

Next to that was a bold and stocky building, brightly coloured with dazzling reds and oranges passing around it in a magical coat of paint that enabled the colours to disperse and float freely around the building.

Black blotches or spots remained in stationary positions along the building often contorting their size.

The doors to this place were flamboyant and unnecessarily tall for aesthetics. White with a gold trim, the guards to this place all wore sleek rodeo pony suits, white with a gold trim. Gruff, rough ponies most wearing frontier style hats were at the doors.

Written above the door in a pretty pearl sign in a sleek cursive font was “Saber Tooth’s”

After that was the Red & Black, their destination. The tall looming building, the main attraction of New Pegas. The securitron guards remaining vigilant over the crowds which we’re not so much as patted down at the door.

To the right of that was a heart stopping casino, a tall castle like building, resembling the old fairy tale fortresses.

The building itself was a blinding yellow covered in glowing green vines with illuminating flowers with dazzling pink, purple and violet blossoms. Burning brightly all around it. The white stone and steel of its frame was lit up gorgeously with the plants adding beauty with the setting of the sun.

At the portcullis into this keep of wonderment stood valliant guards, clad in shimmering knight’s armour. Lances straddled to their sides. Haughty hoity toity ponies in over the top elitist dresses and suits we’re patiently awaiting admission to the castle. Trotting up to the door on a beautiful red carpet. Many mares wore stunning tiaras and jewellery, they looked around themselves at all the other lower ponies scoffing down upon them. Dawn felt a deep dislike for those ponies, even if she was a little envious of the pretty mares.

Elegantly above the portcullis written in arranged flowers was “Shangri La.”

Finally finishing the arch of casino’s was the Luck of the Coltic. Dawn began to wonder how actually ran the casinos, surely this house character can't manage them all, Dawn was soon to meet him, maybe she would find out.

“Okay now,”Trouble began leading Dawn out onto the main road of the strip “I only eva’ meet House once before. Dun nay swear, do nay fart and keep in line, awrite?” He instructed.

“Name a time that I was ‘out of line’. Relax, I got this.” She said back in an air of coolness.

Trouble stared back at her to make sure it was the same pony. She had no idea what came over her, maybe she was finally getting the hang of being social.

They hastily approached the Red & Black, unlike the Luck of the Coltic there was no VIP access point. Just an all access door for every kind of pony. Dawn had to nearly gallop to keep alongside Trouble, she didn't want to be left alone out here.

Dawn spotted small low rise buildings between Casino’s.

Between Sodom and Saber Tooth’s was a small workshop labelled “Duct Tape’s All around repair resort.”  Large metal shutters were covering two rectangular entrances. A small office in the front, with many ponies coming and going in fresh and renewed gear, mostly fresh soldier types, inspecting immaculate weapons with grins on their faces.

Between The Luck of the Coltic and Shangri La was another low rise structure, with a bright red cross on the front. It read beneath in neon lighting.

“Doctor Bone Twist’s New Pegas Clinic Open All Hours!”

Dawn found it weird that a doctor’s was advertised more like a bar or motel.

Ponies clutching their stomachs ambled towards the clinic as did many others limping or groups shoulder to shoulder supporting one another. Many more ponies left the clinic looking fresh and rejuvenated eager to hit the casinos once more.

They came to the doors of the Red & Black casino, the crowds pouring into her. The two became caught up in the torrent of ponies, being carried inwards, forced to go with the flow or be trampled under hoof.

Dawn grabbed hold of Trouble’s hoof, so not as to get separated, being whisked into the casino. Once inside Dawn gasped in awe. The whole room was impossibly open, this was not a hotel like the others merely a large atrium of gambling, music, culture, arts and alcohol. There was floors, each designated for a particular service. The high circular based building had a beautiful colouring scheme of red and black studded with golden diamonds. Giving the dome the perfect atmosphere.

 The ground floor was gambling, a sea of chips and anxious and ecstatic bidders surrounding tables.

Busy cashier kiosks in the walls, exchanging caps for corresponding Red & Black chips. Dawn found it peculiar, why not just use bottle caps?

There was no reception in this casino, only a large open middle ground with a huge glass elevator rising totally vertically into the roof and beyond. Guarded by two vigilant erect securitrons.

The high spiralling staircases made her head spin. And the sheer number of ponies meant there was constant nearly overpowering background noise, but everyone seemed to love it.

Trouble strutted into the middle ground, Dawn after careful observation noted that it was a roulette wheel numbered and everything. He approached the two securitrons confidently, striding to a halt inches from the glass door. The securitrons pivoted to face Trouble.

The familiar red light above the securitrons screens flickered a few times before they both mechanically chimed “Proceed.”

The glass door whooshed open. Trouble confidently and calmly strode in and faced out into the casino floor. He felt Dawn’s grip drift away from him as she fell behind.That’s when he remembered.

Dawn stood in the edge of the elevator, peering at the inch high step as if gazing into a death drop into a jagged rock quarry.

Her eyes lowered in sadness, her face ashamed and demoralized.

Trouble looked at her, his heart sank for her.

“Its fine you know.” He reassured her. Many ponies stopped to watch the peculiar procession.

She couldn’t raise her eyes to face him. Too petrified by the mountain before her.

“You’re very brave, you know that? You soldiered on and stepped up when most ponies would have just layed down and died. You can do this.” He encouraged her softly.

She shot a glance up to Trouble, only for a split second, before returning to her embarrassing challenge.

Dawn looked around her, many ponies stopped to watch her, gossiping. She seen a group of frilly dress wearing mares giggling incessantly at her. Her cheeks turned bright red from the embarrassment.

She edged away from the elevator, just wanting to gallop away, run from the shame. And this humiliating band of insensitive ponies.

The ambient soundtrack of the bustling casino was muffled out for a moment. Everything slowed, Dawn looked up to Trouble’ his hoof outstretched inviting her in.

Dawn’s senses left her, all feeling and control over her body dissipated. Once again being hijacked. The hijacker smiled devilishly at Trouble, before taking her hoof in his, gracefully striding into the glass elevator in a very lady like fashion.

She twirled around elegantly facing out the casino door. The only audible thing was a high pitch whine bouncing around the walls of her skull. Whatever remote corner of her own mind Dawn was flung into it had a spectacular view.

The hijacker leaned up and gave Trouble a small peck on the cheek, he cocked an eyebrow as his head slowly rotated around to face her. She seductively beamed at him, looking infatuated.

The glass door whooshed shut. The feminine voice that often whispered messages to Dawn spoke, with Dawn’s voice. But Dawn could hear her true voice echoing inside her head. If Dawn had any sense of control she would have been frantic.

“Sorry Trouble dear, best to do that for both our reputations.” she said in a graceful and in a nonchalant tone.

Trouble replied to the imposter “You shouldn’t have to satisfy these clothed vermin,” He said in a sickened tone as the elevator rumbled into life. Carrying them high above all the novelty dressed insects “dear?” he asked in confusion.

The imposter was sly and much more cunning than Dawn “Come now, as if I don’t know what you’re proposal entailed.” Hinting at something.

“Oh, hardy fuckin’ har.” Trouble replied sarcastically. “Wah came over you anyway? This sudden... Swing.” Trouble queried a little confused.

The hijacker seemed to operate on a smoother level of comeback processing, suave and slick. “Something came over me, hijacked me if you will. Don’t worry I’ll be back to normal very shortly, I wouldn’t want to frighten this House of yours.”

“Miss’r House dun do frightened. And only speak if spoken to.” Trouble sternly reminded her.

The hijacker rolled Dawn’s eyes. “Come now, what do you take me for? Some misguided and impertinent street ruffian? I am the very epitome of manner and class.” The imposter almost sang out, dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah.” Trouble said dismissively.

The imposter stared out down into the casino. The beautiful multi stories, the rings all had their own bars and hundreds of packed tables. Dozens of waiters and performers. Packed bars, gourmet dinner tables. A refuge from the harshness of the wastes a sanctuary for all to drown out the woes of the wastes, whether it be with the bottle or with a special friend. All goers had a common goal.

The hijacker smiled mischievously down upon them as the elevator soared higher and higher, playing with Dawn’s hair.

“I love what you did with my mane.” She cooed, stroking the gold and blue interwoven strand. Ignoring the heartwarming spectacle of the casino and focusing on Dawn’s reflection.

Trouble looked at her reflection too, not at the stranger posing as her.

“It’s an old Coltic warrior tradition. All the old warrior clans had them, and when defeated in combat the winning warrior would claim the other’s braid.”

Soon the rose out of the dome, into the blackness of the spinner near the top. The light left them, with the loss of Dawn’s reflection so came the loss of the hijacker.

Dawn returned, she let out a gasp for air and a deep shudder. Panting heavily as her sensors overloaded in this dark glass show case. Ready to shatter at any minute, the darkness engulfing her. Trapped in its powerful jaws, thrashing would be fruitless. Stuck there, waiting for its powerful jaws to snap her in two.

She shook violently as her eyes shut tight. The hum of the elevator as it streaked down the gullet of darkness, into the bowels of the void.

She let out a scared little squee as she buried her head in her fore hooves. Trouble rested a hoof on her shoulder, consoling her.

“Glad to have you back kid.” He said, gladly welcoming her back.

The elevator jumped coming to a halt, making Dawn yelp. In front of them thick metal doors shrieked open ahead of the whoosh of the glass. Dawn scrambled panicky out of the elevator, hyperventilating as she rested on the cold, metal(?) ground.

She looked around her. She was in a dark, cold and desolate entrance. Pale thick metal walls leading into a poorly and sparsely lit hall. Most the lights overhead turned off. Trouble followed Dawn out, a cautious and concentrated look on his face.

He intently and purposefully trotted out into the eerie entrance, gazing at the light passing from around the corner.

He stopped short, a fit of coughs subduing him. The usually well composed Trouble swayed side to side, covering his mouth with his hoof as he coughed  violently, a bad rattling in his throat.

Trouble bounced off a all in his fit, gasping for air between coughs. Dawn watched as her mentor became overpowered by a cough. He slid down the wall, hacking up violently, spittle escaping his covered mouth, trailing down onto his suit.

Dawn lay there in freight, panicky. He could have been dying for all she knew. She lay there directionless on what to do or say.

“Trouble?” She queried, getting upset.

She rose to her hooves as Trouble slid down the cold metal wall. She edged closer to him, her head lowered observing him, as the last retches came. Slobber dripping on his now slimy hoof.

His shadowy body went lax. He finally lowered his hoof from his mouth, wiping the saliva off on the metal floor, back and forth, rubbing the pale green refuse lodged between his exoskeleton digits unto the ground.

“Trouble?” She asked again.

“Hey kid.” He retorted, his voice filled with exhaustion. He pushed himself up onto four hooves, ignoring the pile of putrid bodily fluids he spluttered on Mister House’s floor.

“A-are you alright?” She asked, still distressed from between the elevator, the hijacking and Trouble having a fierce and fatal sounding cough fit.

“Fine.” He reciprocated, wanting to move on from the fit.

“What was that? Will you be okay?” Dawn queried, a little jittery.

“I’m fine kid, now hush up.” He insisted.

Trouble strolled into the hall, Dawn quickly shadowed him. Before them lay a derelict hall, a small draft breezing down it. Metal, as the rest of this place. But someone tried to synthesize home. There was night stands with flower pots, plastic roses resting in the dusty porcelain vases. In the hallway there was one solitary overhead light switched on, over a framed portrait and a night stand. Only half-lit the hall, casting most of it in an eerie pale lighting. There was other lights, plenty of them. They were all for an unclear reason switched off.

Dawn felt an icy chill crawl down her spine, there was something terrible off about this place. She could almost feel it... Pulsating. Like the building itself was alive with a thumping heart in its depths.

The stagnant breeze wafted through her mane, coming from an unknown source, maybe the dark end of this hallway. All around her she had the uneasy sensation of being watched.

Trouble proceeded in silence down the eerie hallway,  never making a sound. With the way he silently stepped, Dawn made far more noise. She could never figure out how he did that.

Dawn turned her head, inspecting the hall. All around cast in shadows were portraits of very similar if not the same pony. She looked to a musky and aged portrait to her right, mounted high on the wall.

An erect dashing young earth pony was in the portrait. A tall and well toned stallion, quite handsome with a beautiful shiny long black mane, a light green coat with piercing brown eyes, dressed in an illustrious tuxedo, glimmering on the canvas. Looking solemn and serious, the artist captured him perfectly. His physique and posture practically breed the feeling of authority and leadership.

That wasn’t the only portrait. The wall was lined with them, the same golden frame. Some identical to the first one. Others showing older more mature versions of the same pony, greying, adding experience to the sophistication. He kept ageing until he was an old senile pony. Unable to stand, so captured sitting in a wheelchair. Peering wisely at the her, his eyes still as striking as always.

Then something peculiar happened; it returns back to the first portrait. Just fresher, not as aged. This place disturbed Dawn, deeply.

This hallway was littered with painted metal doors trying to emulate wood, all tightly shut.

There was a turn near the end of the hall, no door just leading into a desolate room. Trouble and Dawn turned into it, she took in a sharp breath.

The room was dark, dusty and derelict. Empty of all furnishings just cold metal. This room was overlooking the glorious lights of the strip, a miraculous sight from this vantage point. The lights of New Pegas, barely lighting the periphery of the glass.

Dawn found herself staring at the glass, a thin layer of swirling transparent liquid between the outside and the inside.

Dawn overlooked possibly the most important and significant thing in the room. Despite it being the meekest and most pathetic sight in the dark room,Trouble approached it, only his imposing form bringing attention to it.

A tired old senile pony, a tatty and greyed mane. Deep wrinkling on his face and hooves. Resting in a rusting electric wheelchair, his hooves resting peacefully on the rests. Dressed in an sharp tuxedo with a blanket over his lap. The striking lights of New Pegas illuminating his silhouette. An IV drip resting to his right, being fed into his hoof.

Trouble rested a hoof on his shoulder, alerting him of his presence in a gentle and friendly manner. The old pony turned to look upon the towering Trouble’s face. Giving a wrinkled smile on a light green shriveled worn down old face.

Dawn recognized him as the aged pony from the portrait, barely retaining any of his youthful beauty. Now he was old tired and wise looking. His eyes still were striking. Trouble smiled back at the old meek stallion.

“Trouble, my boy,” The old pony said in a friendly tone with a gravelly and raspy voice.

“Mister House. It’s a privilege, as always,” Trouble said back in his professional tone.

Dawn stood behind the two, baffled as what to say or do once more. She pondered how old this pony must be. 70 seemed like an educated guess.

“Come now, two old boys like us. Can we drop the formalities? One old dog from a dying breed to another.” Dawn’s imagination pictured him exhaling dust through his barely comprehensible withered vocal chords.

Trouble thought for a moment keeping his grin “I don’t even know you’re full name.” He said, a little bothered.

Mister House struggled to clear his throat, his eyes wincing in strain as his throat cleared. as loud as he could manage which wasn’t very he proclaimed “House Rules.”

Trouble grinned even wider, starting to look malevolent.

“How appropriate.”

“But please just call me house,” the elderly pony continued. “I’m afraid I’m only acquainted with your alias, so if you don’t mind me asking, what is your ‘actual’ name?”

Trouble broke eye contact looking out onto the grand city, the hustle bustle far down below. The swirling dazzling lights, enchanting all those who looked upon them, luring them into their grace.

After a moment's contemplation Trouble answered, again his professional tone. “I’m afraid House, that is something I’m not at liberty to reveal.”

“Ah, I see,” House grumbled. “It seems like only yesterday your family was bringing order to the wastes, I do miss them. we rarely done business but, you had character, culture. Something that has unfortunately petered out.”

“Mother always said, you were the shining light of the south.” Trouble replied indulging in some of his own reminiscence. Grinning once more, still staring out into the wondrous shimmering city below, the two giants gazing over their peons below. Ponies from another time, worlds apart but drawn together.

“I’m familiar with your mother, Queen of Hearts. She was a fine mare.” He said fondly.

“Indeed she is.” Trouble reinforced.

“Forgive me, I’m rambling on again.” House said giving a soft laugh to himself.

“We have business to discuss, where is your young protege?”  He asked him.

Trouble looked back to Dawn as she stood in the obscure darkness.

“Dawn.” He called out to her. Beckoning her in.

Dawn took a deep breath and nervously approached Trouble.

“Can you bring her in front of me?” House politely requested.

Trouble stepped back letting her through, he gripped her by the shoulder and stood behind her as House looked at her.

His striking eyes looking into hers, she swallowed. Nervous. Feeling uncomfortable being presented like this.

“Ah,” House said, finishing examining her “Black Dawn wasn’t it?” House asked kindly. Looking up at her.

She felt her neck choke up, she tried to speak, as soon as she opened her mouth in the stead of words came only a small “eep.”

She bit her lip in embarrassment. The old caring eyes only smiled endearingly at her, trying to make her feel less vulnerable.

“Y-yes sir.” She managed to blurt out.

House furrowed his brow, “Do I make you nervous, miss Dawn?” He asked her, inquisitively.

Dawn backed up into Trouble, she let out a humiliating and fearful squeak. House laughed at her sporadic behaviour.

“Why should this tired old pony scare you, may I call you Dawn?” He said, slowly coercing her out of her shell.

She gave a stiff nod, “Trouble tells me that you’re quite the shot. Isn’t that right Trouble?” The elderly pony said in a gentle tone.

Dawn felt the pulsing of the building through the floor now, causing her muscles to tense up unwillingly.

“Thats right,” Trouble confirmed trying to relax her by rubbing her shoulders. “a natural, she’s got potential and she’s cut down more ponies than most of the chumps nowadays.”

He said confidently vouching for the petrified little mare.

“It’s so refreshing to see talent in young ponies these days,” the elderly pony said absent mindedly.

He stared blankly out almost through Dawn and he murmured “it’s a sad thing really.”

Trouble spoke up “Shall we get down to business?” He offered, releasing his grip on Dawn, she let out a sucked in breath and scooted off into the darkness, that is she tried. As she tried to retreat Trouble yanked her tail, sending a tight sharp pain coursing through her, she suppressed the urge to yelp. Knowing who done it and why. She slowly backed up, House was onlooking his proudest possession, the last of the great cities. One last fine example of pony kind, unsoiled by balefire and taint.

The elderly pony let out a sigh and a bit of a rusty wheeze “Absolutely.” He grumbled.

“Freeside,” House began his voice tinged with contempt “she has always soiled my city’s beauty. The ugly sister.” He hissed as he turned away in disgust at what lay beyond his pearly gates.

“A slum, a mockery to this place I built I’ve been here, I rebuilt her when she was crumbling. I got the tribes to fall in line, it belongs to me. And now, this gang,” he spat  “thinks they can steal her from me.” Dawn could see it behind the meek and withered pony’s exterior, deep behind his eyes there was a fierce hatred building. A long burning passion for Pegas, and the longing for all those who oppose her grace to vanish. At any cost.

“They call themselves the Overlords. Bah, they’re a bunch of thugs, junkies and merc rejects, they have an entire street occupied, where they sling their cheap narcotics. Where the diseased prostitutes filthy and ugly flaunt their wares to the deranged and desperate. There is an epidemic coming soon, and I’m going to have to be the one to save them. But first, I want you to exterminate these ‘Overlords’ down to the last.” The old pony growled, venomous loathing and disdain clear to see.

“Oh, and since this is well, a personal matter, I have a special request for the occasion.” House said beaming.

Trouble raised an eyebrow “And that would be?” He inquired.

House let out a raspy chuckle “Instructions will be dispatched by my underlings if you choose to accept.”

Trouble let out a sucked in breath “Pegas is my home now too, what's the pay? Keep in mind you’re getting a team of ponies. Five trigger units.” Trouble reminded him, extending all the digits outward from his hoof.

House peered at the sharpened metal talons, his brow furrowing as his eyes squinted to see it with his failing vision, “Ah, an exoskeleton. One of the Coltic models, I remember when we went into production. Our model was criticised as a little dainty for the job, put the ping time was much quicker. Life savingly so.” House went on a tangent.

“Excuse me?” Trouble apologized, baffled.

“Equestrian Innovations, it was my first business endeavour. And by far the most profitable. Oh how senile of me, you must forgive me my boy, its the old age you see, we were discussing your pay were we not?” House said, his gaze returning back to Trouble standing before him.

The pony not even bothered by two armed ponies alone, in a dark room, far away. He was more dangerous than he looked, that had to be it. The old weak pony thing is just an act. There could be a panic button under that blanket, or maybe an ultra sophisticated weapon.

Something that would lock onto Trouble and sever his head. Although Dawn could never imagine someone actually getting Trouble, let alone this weak little pony. Then again, he was paying Trouble, and her for that matter to go and shoot a place up.

“Yes, five ponies services you’re engaging remember. Now what's the offer?” Trouble said seriously, cutting to the chase. Probably fearing another tangent.

“Five,” House muttered to himself along with some other unintelligible murmurings “Then my offer for the eradication of the Overlords stands at two hundred thousand caps, if you accept.”

Dawn’s heart stopped beating in her chest.

It was replaced by the dull pulsing of the very tower she stood in, it was in her blood now.

“Transferred into my account upon completion?” Trouble questioned.

House nodded, craning his rigid neck. “Of course, collect at the Coltic your account is already my most outstanding, I’m not going to lie, it will be hairy an entire street will likely come down on top of you.” House cautioned him.

Trouble chuckled “That's why I get paid, I’m what you call in when an army is too big and anything less is too small. I’ll accept the job.” Trouble proclaimed.

“Than our business is concluded, word will be sent to your suite informing you of the details.” House said, his voice fading out. His gaze drifting off.

Trouble gave a nod “As you wish.” He beckoned for Dawn to follow him out of the room. He was deliberately making noise, this was the first time in a long time she heard him make noise as he moved.

“Trouble?” House called out, hearing him pace away.

Trouble froze. “Yes Mister House?” He replied mannerly.

“Shock and awe my boy, make a spectacle of it.” He said back, joyed at the mere thought of it.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Mister House.” Trouble reassured, pacing away back into the hall, Dawn shadowing him.

Leaving the eerie, shrouded room House called back a final time, his voice glum.

“Trouble?” He called out through the darkness.

“Yes?” He answered.

“You will come back and visit me one of these days won’t you?” He almost pleaded to him.

“Of course I will, good company is so hard to come by. You know where to find me.” Trouble reassured him in a well mannered voice.

Dawn glanced back at the old pony. Frail, she doubted if he could even stand. Subtly begging for company, unthanked for his safe guarding over New Pegas, his clear obsession with it. A lonely and pitiful existence, all the caps that flow through here and it seemed as if not a single one reached him.

He was too high above the stream, a protecting angel, a timeless artifact from another world. High and Dry, playing games us mere mortal underlings couldn’t possibly hope to understand in this lifetime. Dawn pitied him, but more certainly, he pitied himself.

She left the room, following Trouble into the poorly lit hall, this place sending chills down her spine. Her heart was yet to restart.

“A... Mysterious pony ain’t he?” Trouble whispered to Dawn.

Dawn replied in a hushed and jumpy voice “What does he do exactly?” she counter questioned.

Trouble thought for a moment “Kid, I’m not even sure if he knows anymore. The heads of the casinos all take secret orders from him, but the Luck of the Coltic’s head hasn’t been seen in five years. He just disappeared one night. In my head he watches every street, every inch of the city. And beyond. He is god out here. Where only a privileged few are allowed into his kingdom.” Trouble still had his professional coating over his voice. It made his words so much heavier, but none the less true.

Dawn treaded lightly down the hallway, the portraits of the once immaculate pony seeming more melancholy than before.

They returned to an awaiting glass elevator. Trouble strode into the elevator watching her carefully, anticipating her reaction.

 This time though, things were different, she planted a wary hoof onto the glass floor, then another stepping into it with ease. Her hooves mildly trembling, her brain going blank as she seamlessly strode in, taking her place adjacent Trouble. Wondering what changed.

She let out a nervous laugh, grinning up at Trouble, to see him smiling back in approval.

“Well done, Dawn.” He said joyous of her momentous triumph over her own fear.

Her eyes watered with pride, it meant more to her than anyone could’ve understood.

“Thanks Trouble,” She said quivering “you’ll always be there when I need you right?” She asked challenging his convictions.

“Always.” He answered warmly.

_____________________________________________________________________

The Figure paced back and forth from wall to wall, keeping in an arrow straight line.

Caught up in deep thought.

“That is indeed interesting.” The Figure breaking the silence.

“I don’t know why I was so... Stilted by him, I don’t know what happened in the elevator. Going up or back down. I never questioned it, not once, I’m not going to start either.” Dawn declared, trying to spare herself from the questions she knew he would ask.

The Figure wiped his snout with the sleeve of his suit. “House, is it all true?” He asked bluntly.

“Every word, from then until the days of strife. Something only I know happened.” She proclaimed. The Figure stopped dead in his tracks.

“How?” He demanded.

Dawn let out a shudder, “Have you any idea how long it was since Equestrian Innovations was wiped off the face of Equestria? And he was there to witness all of it.” she felt shaky just remembering what she saw.

“How!? Dawn, what happened?” The Figure pressed her.

She was too caught up in remembering the scene to care about demands from a faceless fucker.

“I see things,” She coughed up, she told him in detail about what she seen before, but he never took them too seriously. “and one of the things I was shown was him, defiling nature.”

She uttered grimly, upset, it was worse in her mind than all the horrible things she’s ever done, that Trouble told her not to feel guilty about.

“What, exactly?” The Figure pressed once more, desperate for an inkling of information.

Dawn looked up to him, feeling colder than she did before “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” she said, faintly forcing a smile.

The Figure let out a frustrated sigh “Fine, what next?” The Figure asked, eager to continue.

“Well when we got back, there was a small dossier. Trouble handled the small print, I just followed his lead.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn and Trouble entered the suite, inside was Worthy, Rico and Night Light heavily armed with new weapons.

Worthy stood in the centre of the floor, he flexed his shoulder in a jerky movement, from under his cloak sprang the ornate bolt action rifle Dawn seen on the table earlier, when she was blacking out. The large smooth scope meeting his eye, all connected to a strange metallic frame work beneath his cloak.

He snapped it forwards and backwards, jolting in and out of his cloak, spearing the air.

A bizarre contraption.

Night Light too gathered together a few new armanants: A grenade satchel at her hip, a pistol belt around her waist housing a small baby black pistol, with a silencer longer than the barrel itself, an elongated magazine jutting out.

Rico had a sadly familiar weapon, it was the same sleek carbine the soldiers used in this very casino. But more ragtag, a combat scope mounted on the top, an upside down magazine duct taped to the one in the receiver.

Rico peered intently down the scope, slowly scanning the room. Lightning quick he ejected the magazine spun it around in his telekinetic field and jammed it back up into the receiver, all in a split second. Flicking back the charging handle ejecting a round onto the carpet. Dawn was impressed. He handled the rifle with precision and ease, he looked comfortable with it.

They all stopped playing with their toys to stop and stare at the new comers. Night Light spoke first “We got the job details.” She glumly said.

“And?” Trouble responded just as non enthusiastic.

“We’re gonna need a lot of ammo.” Rico declared.

“Righ’ then.” he said “kid follow me.” he concluded striding past them into the long hallway.

They marched purposefully in towards the armory. Trouble pushed open the door, revealing the beautiful spectacle once more, the wide and ranged orchestra. Every conceivable instrument of death available to play.

Trouble spun on his hooves, facing her “For you, something dramatic.” he said with flair, darting off into a remote corner. He galloped full speed over to one of the dozens of workbenches, there was 2 large trunks beneath.

He unclipped one open, he grinned ecstatically into the trunk, he reached in with both hooves, hefting out a heavy tool, Dawn slowly approached him.

With a bit of strain Trouble revealed a stunning weapon, oversized, over the top and designed for no less than overkill.

A huge lumbering monstrosity was in Trouble’s firm grip. Somepony totally insane got the idea to amalgamate two pump action hunting shotguns together into one being.

The black polished steel, the expertly crafted wooden stock duct tape, securing the two don't get disjointed. A small orthodox combat scope mounted between the two on a heightened rail. Dawn loved it.

“I call it, the Black Rook. Its strong, dependable and if anything comes remotely

 within your sights, its red paste on the wall a second later.” Trouble said appraising the weapon.

Trouble rested the gun on the workbench as he pulled out a large bandolier cradling dozens of small metal cylinders. “Proper Frag rounds, not like the ones I make, these aren’t improvised. Expensive stuff. One barrel, the pony is dead with a gaping hole in his chest, two barrels and he’s pink mist.” Trouble said grinning as he dropped the bandolier onto the workbench.

Dawn approached the workbench, a twitchy grin on her mouth as she stroked the cold tempered steel. She wrapped it in a telekinetic field, planning on claiming it as her own. With strain she lifted it an inch from the table. He was heavy.

Struggling she swung him up to shoulder level, the large wooden pump stretching across both shotguns in a stout u shape.

She peered down the sights, the front sights were visible down on the periphery od the scope. Low magnification, very old school.

Trouble darted over to the neighbouring workbench, rubbing his hooves in anticipation.

on the table was a cloth covering the contents, he looked over to Dawn a manic smile spread across his face, his eyes looking wild with energy.

“Dawn, I give you Stalliongrad Bagpipes!” He said ready to explode with joy. Squeeing like a little filly, something Dawn never imagined a pony like him to do. She seen why, and he had a very good reason.

On the table is what Dawn could only describe as a bloated out, goliath revolver. Every chamber in the cylinder was large enough to shove a hoof into, it had a thin rifle stock made from some weird composite alloy. A small rifle trigger and handle, and a barrel most unflattering to the weapon. All finished in a forest camouflage layer of paint with a small telescopic sight mounted on the top.

Dawn’s mouth hung agape in disbelief, the ammo for it was right beside it, huge metallic cylinders, like the shotgun ammo only a lot bigger. So big she would be surprised if she could fit one in her mouth.

Trouble had an ecstatic shudder “This ‘ere is a real fuckin’, showstopper semi auto revolving, Grenade Launcher!” He proclaimed thrilled.

He slung a bandolier lined with the ammo for this beast around his shoulder, excited. Dawn though was still more than happy with her fill. She fitted the bandolier around her shoulder, as Trouble had done with the grenades. As he energetically waltzed out of his armory, Dawn falling behind inspecting her new toy.

Moments later she entered the living room, her mind still riveted on her new weapon. She looked around it was just her and Trouble. He was seated in one of the armchairs reading a dossier, his hind hooves crossed on the table.

“Where is everypony?” She asked suspiciously.

“They’re already in Freeside, somehow they convinced the Show Ponies to help us.” He said distant from the chat, enrapt in the reading.

Next to the armchair was a huge stereo, two large speakers on either side.

“As it turns out, House has quite the sense of drama.” Said Trouble finished reading over the dossier, closing it on the table.

“What do you mean? She questioned, annoyed at how he keeps her in the dark half the time.

He reached down and grabbed the stereo, “Let’s go.” he said leaving his chair snatching his Stalliongrad Bagpipes.

“Wait, you only have your pistols and you’re dressed in a suit. What if they have guns?” She objected.

Trouble shrugged “ Oh they will have guns kid, but we’ll have bigger ones.” he stated with total confidence.

“They know were coming don’t they?” She questioned hesitant to leave the room.

“I left one alive in the lounge for a reason.” he answered malevolently

“Its jus no fun otherwise, now is it?” He challenged a deranged smile as he opened the door.

Dawn shot him a concerned look, he didn’t care for it. He was never concerned with his life.

Why would he be?

He was Trouble.

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn followed Trouble through the bustling Strip, approaching the main gate, almost on cue, the gates opened, eager bright eyed tourists taking in the same awe inspiring spectacle that Dawn experienced. She envied them, the rush and enchantment of the luring lights for the first time.

She reluctantly entered this rat infested slum, Freeside, she glanced around at the tatty and rag tag ponies. Filthy, malnourished a sad sight.

Trouble was already on the move, he swung down a derelict road to the right. This road had two story houses built in against the walls of New Pegas, but the careless owners had let them fall into disrepair. She seen a passed out pony on the porch, happily sleeping as a trail of saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth, a dirty needle poking out of her wrist.

Dawn had a deep disdain for this barren and hopeless slum. They pressed on, passing groups of vagrants and loiterers huddled around street corners of barrel fires. As the cold Ponave air settled in.

Trouble and Dawn moved down the street, weapons hoisted high into the air, a major deterrent to any ponies feeling lucky.

At the bottom of the road at a T-Junction one street heading street into a dead end, the other swinging back around left. Dawn could distinguish the highly distinguishable Show Ponies, clad in their immaculate suits, pistols at the ready.

She could spot also, Night Light. Her cow pony hat stood out among all these patchwork wasters.

She couldn’t find Worthy or Rico. The two were both dressed in black last time she checked. And we’re probably lurking about somewhere. Clouded in the dark slum.

Night Light waved them in, tonight there wasn’t the usual; cries or gunshots carried out on the wind, just a misplaced silence. A calm, making this whole poorly explained plan seem worse by the second.

Trouble and Dawn linked up with the group, waiting for time in silent eagerness, tension building. Tyke was there, approaching Dawn “Hey, Dawn.” She said cautiously, looking over her shoulder.

“Hey, Tyke, what’s going on?” Dawn asked being friendly hoping somebody would lay down a plan.

Tyke leaned in close and spoke gently, clearly uncomfortable in this place “Well,” she said hesitantly “Rico and Worthy are trying to negotiate the return of Rico’s stuff and all of their best product, we’re on backup.”

“Backup?” Dawn questioned looking around the packed street. There was definitely a higher concentration of ponies here than anywhere else.

“Yeah,” she started up again, constantly looking over her shoulder “of the thugs themselves, not many of them got guns and those that do, their not very good quality. A lot of the ponies in that crowd are packing knives and other edged and blunt weapons. This is where they go to get their fix, and they will kill for it.” She said timidly. Or eager with nervous energy, Dawn couldn't be sure.

“So, Worthy and Rico are somewhere in this street?” Dawn asked, looking at the congregation, not a single pair of eyes was upon them.

Tyke spun around and pointed to the house right in the centre of the road, the density of ponies at its thickest at that point. The gangs all seemed to radiate out from there.

“Well what's the plan?” Dawn pressed her.

Tyke licked her lips, the others in hushed discussion. “Rico and Worthy roll in, make demands, Rico really wants his rifle and uzi back. Once that's secured Worthy lets off some nerve gas.” She said excitedly.

“And what does that do?” Dawn queried, just the phrase unsettled her. Nerve gas.

“Basically, it fucks you up. In a serious way.” Tyke said grinning.

“Show time.” she fiendishly chimed.

_____________________________________________________________________

Worthy and Rico sat in the rat infested building, on a mouldy uncomfortable couch, the fabric torn out in chunks from it. Errant springs jabbing out from it.

Worthy sat in serene silence, his mask fitted onto his face. Creeping out the three guards in the room, burly ponies, thick set all carrying small rusted pistols. Across from them in a wrecked and worn armchair was Bad Trip, his face bandaged from when Trouble shattered the glass into his face. The blotches of crimson behind the dense bandaging revealing the extent of the damage.

“So, just the guns? You’ll never see us again, and we won’t see you or your friends, right?” Bad Trip asked, constantly shooting terrified glances over to Worthy.

“Yeah mate, yeah. Course. But Trouble wants all your Jet, Stampede, Hydra. All amphetamines and uppers you got. Sorry.” Rico said sheepishly biting his lip in anxiety.

Bad Trip’s face couldn’t be read behind the bandaging but his voice was fearful, not of Rico, but of the malevolent dark being adjacent to him, keeping stoic.

Bad Trip could’ve been angry for a moment, but it was overcome by fear as he said to Worthy his voice quivering “ We do this and your brother will leave us alone yeah?” He said with a shaky hoof.

 Worthy all too slowly nodded his head stiffly. “Okay then.” Bad Trip said.

Bad Trip looked to his body guards giving a stout nod, the burly pony entering the next room, reappearing a moment later with a black leather stuffed briefcase. “The drugs.” bad Trip announced.

The bodyguard returned into the back room, returning with a black large burlap sack “Your guns.” his voice sounding defeated.

Rico wrapped both in a telekinetic field, hoisting them into his orbit.

“Now get out of here.” Bad Trip meekly barked.

Worthy rose in silence and strode out the door, his cloak whipping behind him as he soundlessly left the room.

Rico followed suit, hurriedly shuffling out the door behind his ghoulish companion.

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn spotted Worthy and Rico leaving the building. Worthy slowly scanning the crowds as Rico burst out behind him looking flustered.

“That's our cue.” Trouble declared.

The Show Ponies unholstered their pistols in unison, Tyke spinning her two pistols in the air above her, “Lets do this.” she growled eagerly.

Trouble caught the large stereo on his shoulder, resting the Stalliongrad Bagpipes at his hip. Night Light swung her Valkyrie to the ready, loading a road into the chamber.

As Worthy and Rico briskly returned back towards the group, Rico searched the sack, the loiters giving him wanton stares with greedy expressions, like they could sense the drugs.

From the sack he revealed a stunning weapon.

A black long rifle, more of a sniper rifle than an automatic carbine. Covered in a digital coating with a gold line along the barrel and receiver, the long line ran the whole way down to the stock, where it rose up to write in a bold script “Overture.”

Overture was a bigger more surgical version of the rifle he had earlier. The magazine even had a gold finish as did the large combat scope on the top. Rico smiled at the weapon tucking it low against his chest as both him and Worthy dispersed from the congregation.

Rico’s face returned to a warm cocky calm the group behind him he subtly charged the weapon and gave a brief nod to the encroaching party.

“Time for a little drama.” Trouble smirked as his exoskeleton forced a button on the stereo as it came to life.

A triumphant classical piece blasted through, stimulating Dawn for the glorious and tremendous task at foot. She felt ready for it. Excited it for it.

The music rang down the street bringing attention to the band of heavily armed ponies trotting boldly down the street. Bad Trip from his ‘office’ faintly heard the overwhelming music, he ran to his window. Sticking his head outside into the street.

“Oh, shit.” he stammered out.

Coasting boldly down his street was a band of fearless ponies, with enough weaponry to level a small country

He turned to face his two bodyguards. “Send the word out, get our guys shooting!” He barked to his body guards.

Bad Trip hung out the window, the crowd looking up at him with hungry eyes.

“What the fuck are you waiting for!?” He howled at them, they stared back in confusion, Bad Trip swung a hoof at the advancing column “Kill those assholes!”

At once the horde of gangly ponies turned in unison to face the group. Dawn felt a chill race around her body as the blank faced, hungry eyes ponies stared at them, contemplating.

Dawn charged both rounds into the chambers of her heavy shotgun, pulling back the heavy pump with strain. A bead of sweat trailed down her brow.

Then it happened. From all the houses along the street, ponies rose from the top story windows with rifles, aiming for the group.

Trouble tilted the grenade launcher at the first cement house, with a loud thumping sound a grenade was spat out of the stout barrel, whirling through the air. A moment later the building splashed out onto the street, a concussive fiery blast scattering it in small chunks across the road.

All hell broke loose, from the crowd gunshots syphoned, many ponies unsheathing hidden knives from around their waists. Savage cries being let out as a mob barreled down upon them.

“Open fire!” Trouble cried out, launching another grenade as the stereo boomed in his ear. The snipers in the windows sprayed their inaccurate weapons at the group, Night Light cutting them down just as the grenade impacted the building, hurdling bricks dust and debris high into the air. Showering the charging horde in dust and chunks of rebar and cement, knocking a few out. Large chunks of debris landing on ponies as they crumbled beneath it.

Shots burst from the crowd, whistling past the group. Night Light sprayed into the crowd, cutting ponies down, ripping their bodies apart, the crazed mob not even caring for the blood of the fallen splattering across their manic faces.

Dawn finally had the sense to go for her shotgun, Black Rook. As she hefted the weapon into firing position The Show Ponies shelled the crowd, their fast firing triggers, pelting the crowd with deadly efficiency with thought out shooting.

The streaking pistol rounds slicing through the ponies, Trouble let another grenade spring out from the barrel. The racing high explosive cylinder blowing the building apart, ripping fiercely through the concrete. This time the round doused the crowd in high velocity rock and debris. Knocking out most of the front line. Sweeping them off their hooves, cracking necks and compacting spines in a hail of hard rock.

Dawn pressed the stock of the Black Rook tightly in against her shoulder, peering down the sights. she picked a pony at random, a pale yellow mare, with a greasy orange mane flopping on her head, a rusted jagged kitchen knife gripped in her teeth.

Dawn tensed both triggers, the barrel erupted in a horrendous explosion, the recoil kicking the gun high above Dawn’s head. The two shells left the barrel in the flash both striking the mare in the chest. At the moment of impact the shells detonated. Turning the sickly mare into a red haze as her torso became a dense mist. Dawn shuddered at the immense power, that she now wielded.

Trouble fired another grenade, finally he worked his way towards the building Bad Trip was cowering in. He carefully imagined the grenade’s flight path. “Thump!” The launcher rang out.

The grenade whistled through the air, spinning towards its target. The grenade impacted behind the window, blowing the rickety building outwards. Hunks of churned up pony meat splaying out with it in a streak of red. From the building rose a thick smog, the combusted narcotic gas seeping from the wreckage.

Trouble finally tuned the grenade launcher onto the rapidly approaching crowd. The grenade struck a savage crazed pony square in the chest. The grenade exploded, ravaging the crowd, twenty ponies at once vaporized by the fiery blast.

Splotchy body parts glistening with bodily fluids showered the crowd, the blood cloud rose into the air, ponies being struck down by flying body parts. Pony shrapnel.

Smoke gently rose from the barrel of Trouble’s grenade launcher as he rose it high into the air. Firing a single grenade high into the air. It rose with a high whistling noise, plummeting back down onto the earth into the very heart of the crowd.

The impact erupting the crowd in a red wave covering them all in a bright red paste splash. All of the crowd stilted at once, as ponies gagged and sucked in the dense blood fog they were engulfed in. Coughing violently. Suffocated under a red sea.

The crowd’s momentum buckled, ceased as the front line was deterred by a mixture of bullets and the ponies behind them decorating most of their body.

The crowd panic stricken ran off, dispersing frantically in all directions. Letting out fearful and tormented cries as their new red coats streaked and dripped behind them as they fled.

Leaving only fatally wounded crawling out from the blood spray, hacking up puffs of red. as they lay writhing on the ground. The street decorated in a bright red coat, thanks to them.

Dawn looked upon the sight with disgust, the stomach churning spectacle before her. Rico and Worthy never so much as fired a shot, but merely looked on. She could only see Rico’s aghast expression, his teeth gritted as he looked on in disdain.

The music replaced by the loud drone of ponies groaning in agony, wailing in torment and violent coughing.

Dawn averted her gaze, unable to bear the scene before her. The first deed of her new life. Bloody and horrific, all in the name of caps.

She raised her PipBuck to her face, reading the display, anything to take her mind off what Trouble done, what she done.

A new screen one she never seen before was before her.

Quest Complete: House Rules.

Clean up Freeside of the Overlords for Mister House

Clean up, wouldn’t have been the exact wording she would have used.

“Lets go.” Trouble grunted quietly turning his back on the sight. The others following him back to the Pearly gates of New Pegas. Leaving her standing there, Tyke tugging on her to follow.

“Dawn, don’t worry. Let’s get out of here.” She said reassuringly, dragging her away.

She never took her eyes off the column of red gas, wondering how many ponies were disposed of to make it. She didn’t know when it started, but she felt the familiar feeling of salty tears rolling down her face, as the wind carried the red mist away.

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Bloody Mess -- With the Bloody Mess perk, characters and creatures you kill will often explode into a red, gut-ridden, eyeball-strewn paste. Fun! Oh, and you'll do 5% more damage with all weapons.