genessee

Private Fallout: Equestria (Former 1x1 with Hazard Time and FancyHorse and Arid_Blitz and also Randimaxis)

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(edited)

Hey! You! Yes, you! We use an OOC now: OOC :o

We follow Fallout: Equestria logic in this thread. Go on the wiki for the backstory there.

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Lance could barely keep his eyes open, much less actually move forward. He examined his surroundings: Sand, sand and more sand, just as it had been for the past however long he had been out here in this wasteland. The Equestrian Wasteland, to be specific. He didn't really see why it needed a name. Nobody sane ever came out here. Question: If nobody sane ever comes here, then why are you here, genius? He didn't bother to answer his own question. See, this was amazing compared to where he had come from. Stable 184, one of the many Stables created when the war began, before the Nukes were dropped. His Stable wasn't what one would call 'luxurious'. Well, not now, at least. Before it was amazing, better than his cottage nestled between a few trees at the edge of the Everfree. Now, though, it was full of cannibalistic psychos and hostile security guards. He had been able to grab a Service Carbine before his escape, along with another sane Dweller, who quickly vanished after they left the Stable. Unfortunately, not only did he not have more than a single clip for his Carbine but he also had nothing worth shooting at. So instead, he lay on the sand, regretting his life choices. He knew that he wasn't going to make it to any civilization (if there was any) anytime soon, and he didn't think sand had any thirst-quenching abilities, so the only thing he did was lay, grunt, stand up, and move forward about a foot, lay back down again, resting for a minute, and then repeating the cycle. Each pull forwards became more and more difficult as a mist of blackness rimmed his vision, the heat sucking out his consciousness. Finally, he threw in the towel and gave in, landing with a thunk on the sand, clouds of the stuff puffing out from under his Stable 184 jumpsuit. I tried. Then he passed out.

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Edited by genessee
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@@genessee

The wasteland was never a forgiving place.  Somepony you may have waved to yesterday may not be there come tomorrow.  Such was life, and those who awoke to find themselves still alive wondered just who among them were the true lucky ones.

Whichever camp Lance found himself in, the next thing he would remember would most likely be somepony pouring water all over his face by rather large pink mare.  She left the rest of the bottle next to him as she looked out the window, her chartreuse eyes darting among the other charred and broken homes.  The one both of them found themselves in was slightly better than the rest, though it was still very much exposed to the elements.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she said brusquely.  As the rest of the world came into focus, some more features about her became apparent, from her two toned purple and orange mane, to her Stable 33 jumpsuit (yet lack of a Pip-Buck), and, most notably, the rather strange looking sledgehammer slung across her back.  "So what's the name of the stallion who now owes me a life?"

8r1nsQl.png

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@Hazard Time

Lance's eyes popped open as the water splashed on his face. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or he had died, but it sure felt real. He was just happy for the water nonetheless, and looked up to see what was the cause of the miracle, and saw a pink mare in a Stable jumpsuit. He stared at his savior and processed what she had asked. Then, he answered in a small voice,

"Huh? Oh, uh, my name's Lance."

Lance painfully sat up to get a better view of his surroundings. An old building with huge holes in it. I don't think anyone lives here. Obviously. He sat in silence, not wanting to say something stupid and getting his head bashed in with that big sledgehammer the pink mare was carrying. He didn't know much about the Wasteland than rumors and what the Overseer had told them before all hell broke loose in the Stable, and most of it was 'If you want to die, go to the Wasteland.' The forsaken heat hadn't been a rumor, but he hoped the fact that you could trust nopony was, because if it wasn't.,.

 

Well, Lance was a dead pony walking.

 

Edited by genessee
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@genessee

YIyqG11.png

"Just Lance?" she asked, rifling through her saddlebags and pulling out a tin of Cram.  She tossed it over towards the stallion as she opened up a bag of Fancy Buck Snack Cakes.  "I thought us ponies were supposed to have two part names?  Whatever, it's short and sweet, at least I'll remember it."  She crammed the two snack cakes into her mouth before tossing the spent wrapper on the floor.  The edges of her mouth twitched as if she were trying to hide her disgust.  "I'd eat that quickly if I were you, both because it has as much flavor and texture as a wad of lint, but also because you're about to pay me back."

Edited by Hazard Time
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@Hazard Time

Lance stared at the Cram, not sure if he wanted to take a bite. He had grown accustomed to Stable food for the past two years, and this looked nothing like it. Looked more like someone barfed in a can and dyed it to look like... well, whatever this looked like. However, his stomach grumbled for something to eat, so he swallowed the Cram, and immediately regretted it. Trying to seem like he knew what he was doing, he kept a straight face, but it was canceled out by his sweating and the quiet gags he uttered behind his closed mouth.  Finally he gathered himself and asked a question, in the same quiet voice as before.

"What do you have in mind?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

 

 

 

 

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

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"This used to be a small suburb of some kind.  No clue what it was called, since I ditched my PipBuck.  However, on my way in here, I saw a sign for a mall.  That's where we're headed, and there's bound to be something worth salvaging.  After we've gotten a nice haul, we'll hike back to Friendship City and hope that we get enough caps to buy a few beers.  How does that sound?"

Edited by Hazard Time

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@Hazard Time

"..Alright."

This time, Lance spoke in a normal tone, his body recovering from his trip in the wastelands. He remembered his PipBuck, but he, too, had also left it because it had been damaged during his escape from the Stable.

His main concern was that this mare was being too nice for the rumors to be true. At this point, if she was planning on killing him, she would have done it when he was still weak. So what is she planning? Is she just being nice or does she want something else besides help in salvaging? Wait, what does she mean caps? Like, bottle caps? Why would the store care about caps instead of money? But Lance lifted himself up, stumbled and then stood upright.

"I guess we're heading out, then?"

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

"Up and ready to go already?  That's the spirit," she chuckled.  The mare shifted the weapon around on her back before heading over towards the front door, or what remained of it.

"By the way, I'm Proud Ametrine.  You can call me Ametrine.  Don't call me Amy."

Edited by Hazard Time
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@Hazard Time

"I'm skilled, what can I say?"

Lance tried to hide his limp while walking behind Ametrine. 

"That's a nice name." 

He couldn't really think of any further conversation, so he kept quiet besides the constant wince with every step.

 

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

"Thanks," she deadpanned.  The peeling wallpaper and dusty walls gave way to suburban wasteland.  Up above, the cloud ceiling kept the warmth of the sun from reaching the surface, and the occasional blood-curdling howl resonated about.  At least Ametrine seemed cool in the face of such grim desolation.

"So tell me about your vault," she started.  "Why'd you leave?"

Edited by Hazard Time

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@Hazard Time

Lance stared out into the bleakness of the former suburbs, gaping at the amount of utter despair laid before his eyes. He then turned his attention to Ametrines question. He hesitated, but then shrugged it off. What could go wrong? It's not like she can take something from me there. It's all been destroyed.

"Well, it's a long story."

He paused.

"It all started a short while ago, the Stable put out a notice stating that food reserves had run dry and as such we couldn't get any food except for the bare minimum to survive, which would, according to the notice, run out after a week. This threw the entire stable into chaos, and... well, some pretty messed up stuff happened. Mainly cannibalism. So a few 'friends' and I basically were forced into hiding inside the stable, and half the stable was either dead or dying while the other half were cannibals. So, long story short, eventually we ran out of food and had to attempt to escape the place. One of us had a stable door access code, so we planned on fending off the insane dwellers, then getting to the nearest sign of civilisation as soon as possible. Um, thing's didn't go to plan and the hordes overran us because some other security guards started shooting at us, they were confused, I bet, and it killed off a few of ours before we got the door open. I was able to grab off a weapon before getting out with some other dweller, who ditched me as soon as I turned my back to him. Then you found me, facedown in the wasteland, I assume. Say, how did you find me anyways?"

 

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@genessee

"Ouch, must have been rough," she deadpanned, her eyes scanning around her as her ears twitched.  "You won't find much different here, good thing you're prepared."  Ametrine stopped to open up a mailbox, pulling out a couple bottle caps.  How curious.

"I was on my way over here from Friendship City.  I've been outside my vault for a few months now, and I only just heard of this mall.  Apparently, we're not the first to have tried to raid it, but we'll be the first to find something useful."

Edited by Hazard Time
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@Hazard Time

"Oh, that's just lovely. Hey, why are you keeping those bottle caps? They're just junk."

Lance absently looked over the mailbox Ametrine had just looted.

"And what's Friendship City?"

Edited by genessee
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@genessee

"Something's gotta be the currency," she replied.  "The old pre-war bits is useless, bullets are too necessary, so why not bottle caps?  Plus, they look like bits."  Ametrine held her hoof with the bottle caps out to Lance.  "Here, your first bits in the new world.  Also, Friendship City is the nearest settlement besides Tenpony Tower, but good luck getting those snobs to open their doors.  Bunch of gentrified scum..."

Edited by Hazard Time

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@Hazard Time

"Hmm."

Lance took the caps and stared at them. They did kind of look like bits. He almost asked 'Tenpony Tower?' but decided against it for the sake of not looking stupid. He figured he'd learn soon enough.

"So why'd you leave your stable? Stable..."

He leaned over and glanced at the number on the back of her jumpsuit.

"Stable 33?"

 

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

The optimistic look on her face seemed to evaporate as she stopped in her tracks.  Her head slowly turned to face Lance as her chartreuse eyes burned into his.

GyVN3ta.png

"I'm not talking about it."

And that was that.  Ametrine started walking forward again, though her mood was most evidently soured.  She didn't follow up with any further questions.

Edited by Hazard Time
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@Hazard Time

Lance, visibly shaken, immediately shut his trap and silently followed Ametrine. He didn't really trust himself to even say 'Sorry for asking' without sounding like he didn't care, because he did. He was simply cursed that he always sounded indifferent when apologising for anything. So, instead, he entertained himself by examining his Carbine and staring at the rubble that was once a suburb. 

 

However, the tiniest seed of curiosity planted itself in the back of Lance's mind. What does she not want me to know?

 

(( Lance does still have his Service Carbine, correct? ))

 

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

Ametrine remained silent, but her muscles were only growing more and more tense.  Her hooves started to stomp as it was clear that she was only becoming angry.

"Excuse me for one moment," she growled, immediately changing direction and marching towards a nearby house, raising her hoof and launching it at the door.  Surprisingly, the door flew off its hinges, and she entered inside.  The sounds of yelling and crashing followed as the house shook, a wall blew out, and a part of it collapsed.  In the space of two minutes, the house was reduced to rubble, and Ametrine stood huffing and puffing, pounding her sledgehammer furiously into the foundation until she was utterly exhausted.

She remained still for another few seconds, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow before bringing her sledgehammer back onto her back and returning to the road.  "As we were," she panted, carrying on her merry way.

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@Hazard Time

Lance stared slack jawed at the former home, now slightly moderately very fearful of angering Ametrine again, as being the receiving end of her anger would be certain death.

He continued to trail behind her, but this time visibly further back than he had been beforehand.

 

Edited by genessee

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@genessee

The air was still very tense when Ametrine suddenly piped up.  "I take it you haven't been in the wasteland too long.  Do you know how to use that weapon?  You're gonna need it soon."

Edited by Hazard Time

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@Hazard Time

Lance's past experience with guns before the fallout gave him some idea of how the Service Carbine. Just to make sure he knew how to fire, he quickly turned around and fired at a nearby house. The impact sent a few pieces of drywall crumbling off the house.

"Yeah, I think I know how to fire this."

He didn't bother answering Ametrines other question, it was pretty obvious at this point he was new to the wastelands.

Edited by genessee
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Ears perked, gun fire. 

 

Raising from his rest spot, he carefully stepped out looking both ways of the collapsed side station. Returning inside he stamped out the embers of the little pot fire before equipping his rifle in his paws flipping up his watch cap fitting to his noggin. 

Must be west.

 

Beginning his brisk walk he followed in a straight pattern and up along the short hills and the crumbled remains of ashen housings meticulously avoiding the hard woods and glass patterns in his stride. 

I will find you.

Just upon another dusty hill looking below to another winding neighborhood, movement. Looks like two of them? From crouched to prone resting to the cusp of the hill and readied he peeked through. 

Distance: +500 meters maybe? 

His scope maxed at a 8x magnification. Yes two. A bit grimy sighting but still useful as the two ponies walked about yet the two are keeping distance, this could be a scuffle maybe? 

Edited by FancyHorse
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@genessee

Ametrine hunched her shoulders from the loud gunshots and stopped in her tracks.  Slowly, she turned around and glared at Lance, the angry returned to her face before she stormed up to him and slapped him across the cheek, the intensity being enough to at least cause him to stumble.

"Excellent work, idiot, you just alerted every scumbag in a five mile radius to our presence."  The pink mare turned around once more and stormed into the building the stallion had shot at.  In a few more minutes, it was also reduced to rubble, but at least Ametrine seemed much more calmer.

"Sorry about slapping you, but please, think next time," she growled, continuing on the path down the road.

Edited by Hazard Time
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@Hazard Time

Lance's head snapped to the side, and he dropped his weapon and staggered back a few steps, not expecting the slap. 

"Won't happen again."

This time he kept even further his distance, silently cursing himself for being an absolute  imbecile. Again. This is exactly why I didn't have friends before all of this and the reason why there's a good chance that as soon as this is over Ametrine is going to ditch me when I'm not looking. Great, now I'll die feeling even more shameful.

Edited by genessee
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Their backs are turned, he had to take this carefully though. Rush down the hill and they'll hear it coming. He noted as the one forward gave the smaller one a rather harsh slap, he stumbled back keeping his distance.

Target her first. Strongest of the two.

 Picking up his rifle he began his slow walk down the hillside, no rushing. Any single stone or scuffle could be the end of this before we even engaged. Maybe the two will have a fight? Ease target stress, a good picking. We'll see where this goes.

 

So far so good, he had just left the hillside and now to terra firma. Picking up the pace now to hail more caution.  Pressed to a dry wall on one of the aged homes- looks like it could fall over with a single touch. Peeking the corner, still in sight now. With his weapon held under his arm he pushed up briskly walking to the next house corner ahead.

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