Fallout Equestria: Ebon King of the North

[Cyreni]

OOC thread

@The Fourth Monado, @Dalek Ix, @triumph8w, @Sablonus, @Asmodemus

"Hey folks! DJ Pon3 here, bringing you news and tunes from the wasteland! First up for this evening, if you're one of the hopefuls heading north, I'd steer clear of Neighagra Falls. A nasty hydra was spotted lurking in the area- I'd say it's looking to make the poisoned place a new stomping ground, seeing as there's plenty of animals for it to hunt there. Take the western route near the old Galloping Gorge Mine instead! Just don't go for a swim in the mine lake. That water might be pretty, but it's all contaminated with radiation and acidic runoff.

"As for the weather, it's looking like overcast skies today and tomorrow, same as usual. But be on the lookout! A nasty thunderstorm's brewing over the North Luna Ocean, and it'll hit the mainland sometime later this week. Remember to find shelter and tie down everything loose, because it's gonna be a big one! Don't let it catch you unaware!

"And with that, fillies and colts, DJ Pon3 here leaves you with Sweetie Belle's sweet melodies to keep you company."

- - -

Lightning cracked through the sky. Quaking thunder followed a moment later, rattling the dilapidated roof of the railway warehouse Dawn Blaze's tribe huddled in for protection. Rain managed to get in through a few broken skylights, but it was still a considerable improvement over being outside.

Nirikflame burned in a campfire made from an old crate, providing warmth around its eerie glow. There was plenty more fuel to be had- the warehouse had once been a significant stop for a nearby pit mine. The valuable ores had long since been scavenged, but everything else was still here, just piled up in a corner.

All in all, a great find for aimless wandering in the wasteland. The tribe could dry off, tired foals could rest with the radio on in the background, and adults could keep watch outside and pick around in the hopes of finding something that may have been missed.

Lightning flashed again. A kirin at the window went wide-eyed as he saw the curved, geometric silhouette of something come careening down from the clouds. Prismatic fire burned at the rear as it grew more distant and lost altitude.

And then it was gone, over the horizon.

- - -

This was the sort of weather all the wastelanders had to put up with all the time?

Rain beat down on Morning Mist harder than any shower she'd ever had, and it was only her suit that kept her dry. She would fly, if it weren't for her injured wing. Something had struck the Roanoke out of nowhere like the hoof of an angry alicorn and sent her slamming into a bulkhead. A large chunk of the ship had then come loose and vacuumed her out into the storm, leaving her to perform one of the worst flight recoveries ever just to land safely on an old train track.

No chance of catching up to the inevitable wreckage at this point. She could barely see in these conditions, let alone perform a search and rescue. Someone could be coming up behind her on the tracks and she'd never see them. She had to press on to somewhere though- a lone, injured mare, exposed to the whole wasteland?

If the monsters didn't get her first, the barbaric natives would. She had to find somewhere to weather the storm in peace. Lightning cracked and lit the sky, revealing the burning shape of the Roanoke as it shrank towards the horizon, and an old, boxy building off in the distance. Perhaps a train station of some sort?

Everywhere else looked like gently sloping, dead hills turning into a mud slurry. The building would be her best bet.

The kirin tribe's earlier hoofprints had washed away an hour ago.

- - -

Golden was following the slumped rim of an abandoned pit mine when the first raindrops began to fall. She picked up the pace. If the storms this far south were anything as powerful as the blizzard she knew back home, she didn't want to be caught out in the open.

Minutes later, the cloud cover darkened, rain started in earnest, and lightning flashed off in the distance. The only shelter she could see was a warehouse on the southern side of the mine- everywhere else was empty hills, and the mine's lower layers were flooded with vibrantly, opaquely blue water. There really wasn't any other option.

The rain was pounding and Golden was nearing the building when lightning flashed again, and an airship broke through the clouds above as it burned with prismatic fire. Northward it flew, losing control, altitude and loose cargo alike over the hills.

It disappeared into the distance. It would be landing well away from the tracks that followed the mine's curve, but not past the mountain range marking the edge of the frozen north. Perhaps, if the pilot was skilled, it could land somewhere above any floodwaters.

Nothing she could do about it at any rate.

Nobody else seemed to be on the tracks, but vision was so poor that someone could be thirty feet away and be nearly invisible. What she didn't miss was the strange, deeply pink-purple light flickering from inside.

- - -

Bitterbriar had weathered worse. A lot worse.

Didn't make the rain any less miserable though. Part of him very, very begrudgingly appreciated the numbness granted by undeath keeping this weather from becoming unbearable.

A moderate band of ponies had made its way through here earlier, adults and foals alike all with intriguingly notched hooves. Northward, towards the new magic city that supposedly sprung up overnight. More hopefuls, as DJ Pon3 would describe them. Bitterbriar knew there was a mine somewhere up along this way, and that probably meant some old building to use as a shelter. The ponies that had gone before him ought to know well enough to use it at a time like this, especially with so many little ones, but it would be just like some lowlifes to keep marching in these conditions.

Lightning pierced the sky. A burning pegasus airship broke through the clouds, losing altitude fast as it burned. Crippled- at this point, all it could do was pick where it crashed, and from the looks of it, the pilot chose to crash as late as possible. It soon vanished over the horizon.

...Well, if the group up ahead weren't in need of assistance, they certainly would. And who's to say whatever hit that airship was done yet? Celestia help his aching bones, there was never not a moment some fool needed a hoof. At the same time, perhaps he ought to move before whatever struck the ship decided to look down for more things to hunt.

Not that he'd be able to see it coming before it was too late. He could barely see anything at all with how much water and darkness there was. There could be a pony in front of him and they'd be practically invisible. Yes, better hurry along.

- - -

Ternox watched the tribe of kirins from his far corner up on the catwalks, camoflagued and still. Their initial search had completely overlooked him, which meant they had hustled their foals in shortly before the first raindrops began to fall. He watched them settle in and gather scraps of wood from the surrounding crates, igniting them into a campfire with a strangely-colored magic flame. Food was passed out, adults were assigned to watch the foals and keep a lookout, and a radio was brought out and turned on to DJ Pon3's broadcast. He quickly pinpointed a dark red stallion with a fiery two-tone mane taking charge before poking around the warehouse even more.

Despite the destitute conditions, this resembled cozy. It tasted cozy.

It was like the kirins had unwittingly spread a feast out in front of him. To come out of hiding now and surprise them, or to bide his time and just let this be dangled in front of him?

The rain pounded harder and found places to fall through. A wait was going to be long. One of the kirin at the window gasped and made a motion to outside as lightning flashed- Ternox caught a glimpse of something rainbow falling across the clouds before it vanished into the distance.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

Lightning cracked through the sky. Quaking thunder followed a moment later, rattling the dilapidated roof of the railway warehouse Dawn Blaze's tribe huddled in for protection. Rain managed to get in through a few broken skylights, but it was still a considerable improvement over being outside.

Nirikflame burned in a campfire made from an old crate, providing warmth around its eerie glow. There was plenty more fuel to be had- the warehouse had once been a significant stop for a nearby pit mine. The valuable ores had long since been scavenged, but everything else was still here, just piled up in a corner.

All in all, a great find for aimless wandering in the wasteland. The tribe could dry off, tired foals could rest with the radio on in the background, and adults could keep watch outside and pick around in the hopes of finding something that may have been missed.

Lightning flashed again. A kirin at the window went wide-eyed as he saw the curved, geometric silhouette of something come careening down from the clouds. Prismatic fire burned at the rear as it grew more distant and lost altitude.

And then it was gone, over the horizon.

Click to shrink...

It had been a shockingly nice night, too. They'd managed to make good distance today before the rain hit, and just before it was they'd stumbled upon this nice shelter, with plentiful fuel for a campfire. The radio'd come out, some simple rations were prepared, everyone had gotten to eat and rest a bit, it had been nice! It had been quiet! Nothing Exciting had happened!

And now, at the window alongside Spring Embers, Dawn could only watch something Exciting crash down from the sky across the horizon.

"Dawn, do you think-" His cousin began, her worry evident in the stiff way she held herself and the sharp whispers directed at him.

"If it is, we can't really effect it - Brush, no," Dawn began to reply, only to interrupt himself as his little brother mysteriously appeared at the window, eyes sparkling at the show that had just vanished. "We are diverting around wherever that landed. No 'if's, 'and's or 'but's. It is not worth it in the slightest."

"Awwwwww," Brush Fire whined, directing large and sad eyes at the placid face of his older sibling. For a moment, the contest warred, before Dawn's eyes narrowed.

"We both know that won't work."

"It works sometimes!" Brush cheerfully replied, before Springshooed him beck to the rest of the foals.

"Anyways, we'll want to avoid that as best we can. Shouldn't be hard to find a route leading around from whatever that was," Dawn continued as Spring turned back to him. "We won't have to move yet, at least. Rain's going too hard - any raiders out there'll already be under cover."

"You know that doesn't always apply. Maybe whoever shelters here just got caught too far out of position and are making their way back, now."

Dawn gave her a flat look. "There's no signs of recent prior habitation here, and we aren't taking the kids out into that," He replies, jerking his head outside into the rain. "We might get a few singular travelers, nothing more. I seriously doubt we'll get jumped tonight."

Even still, Spring looks unconvinced, rubbing one foreleg against the other as se looks away. "...I dunno. I have a bad feeling about tonight," She very quietly replied. "Whatever that was... it was definitely a bad omen. Something bad will..."

 

[Dalek Ix]

[LT MORNING MIST: THE OFFICER]

This was the sort of weather all the wastelanders had to put up with all the time?

Rain beat down on Morning Mist harder than any shower she'd ever had, and it was only her suit that kept her dry. She would fly, if it weren't for her injured wing. Something had struck the Roanoke out of nowhere like the hoof of an angry alicorn and sent her slamming into a bulkhead. A large chunk of the ship had then come loose and vacuumed her out into the storm, leaving her to perform one of the worst flight recoveries ever just to land safely on an old train track.

No chance of catching up to the inevitable wreckage at this point. She could barely see in these conditions, let alone perform a search and rescue. Someone could be coming up behind her on the tracks and she'd never see them. She had to press on to somewhere though- a lone, injured mare, exposed to the whole wasteland?

If the monsters didn't get her first, the barbaric natives would. She had to find somewhere to weather the storm in peace. Lightning cracked and lit the sky, revealing the burning shape of the Roanoke as it shrank towards the horizon, and an old, boxy building off in the distance. Perhaps a train station of some sort?

Everywhere else looked like gently sloping, dead hills turning into a mud slurry. The building would be her best bet.

The kirin tribe's earlier hoofprints had washed away an hour ago.

Click to shrink...

The weather is horrific.

I can almost hear the droning voice of my Weather Engineering instructor pipe up to drone endlessly about how the Cloud Layer requires a very specific and delicate balancing of heat energy and moisture and that the odd rainstorm is just the result of keeping our civilisation running. It doesn't make the weather any less horrific down here.

I stumble, and a lance of white-hot pain lights up every nerve in my body.

"Bucking hellfire!"

The pain from my left wing is incredible and had I not locked up that part of my power armour to keep everything nice and still I probably wouldn'tve been able to even walk. Pegasus wings are sensitive in very unsexy ways --loads of nerve endings to feel air currents, plus loads of hollow bones-- and any amount of damage... well. You'll be feeling it. A lot. And for a while.

For a moment I just stand there, legs shaking. Cold fills my lungs, and the shock of what just happened starts to creep in like a winter's breeze. Landing the Vertibucks after a long CAP flight. Eagle Eyes flirting with the ground crew. Cloud Bolt complaining about the trip, while Frostbite just nods along. Talking with old Blitz, watching Soft Feather fuss over the rook. And then...

Light. Sound. Heat. The Roanoke's a Raptor class --not a Thunderhead but nopony would call her small-- and yet she shook like a foal's toy plane being tossed into the air, bulkheads bending and breaking from the stress. The impact was so severe that I can't really remember what happened exactly; all I have are flashes. Me being thrown into a bulkhead. Frostbite's limp body. Blood on Cloud Bolt's coat. Soft Feather screaming as something gives way and I drop down...

"Focus!"

I smack myself, and bury all thoughts of Soft Feather --Soft Feather, who worried over everyone, who shared the little treats her parents sent her, who was sweet and kind and just a little endearingly awkward-- and what... might've happened to her. What could've happened.

What might be happening-

I smack myself again. "Focus you useless mule!"

I grit my teeth, and forge on. I am Morning Mist. I am a comissioned officer in the Grand Pegasus Enclave, not some weepy little filly.

Find shelter. Find survivors. Finish the mission.

Kill the bastards who DARED hurt my ponies.

 

[triumph8w]

Golden was following the slumped rim of an abandoned pit mine when the first raindrops began to fall. She picked up the pace. If the storms this far south were anything as powerful as the blizzard she knew back home, she didn't want to be caught out in the open.

Minutes later, the cloud cover darkened, rain started in earnest, and lightning flashed off in the distance. The only shelter she could see was a warehouse on the southern side of the mine- everywhere else was empty hills, and the mine's lower layers were flooded with vibrantly, opaquely blue water. There really wasn't any other option.

The rain was pounding and Golden was nearing the building when lightning flashed again, and an airship broke through the clouds above as it burned with prismatic fire. Northward it flew, losing control, altitude and loose cargo alike over the hills.

It disappeared into the distance. It would be landing well away from the tracks that followed the mine's curve, but not past the mountain range marking the edge of the frozen north. Perhaps, if the pilot was skilled, it could land somewhere above any floodwaters.

Nothing she could do about it at any rate.

Nobody else seemed to be on the tracks, but vision was so poor that someone could be thirty feet away and be nearly invisible. What she didn't miss was the strange, deeply pink-purple light flickering from inside.

Click to shrink...

It had been a shockingly nice night, too. They'd managed to make good distance today before the rain hit, and just before it was they'd stumbled upon this nice shelter, with plentiful fuel for a campfire. The radio'd come out, some simple rations were prepared, everyone had gotten to eat and rest a bit, it had been nice! It had been quiet! Nothing Exciting had happened!

And now, at the window alongside Spring Embers, Dawn could only watch something Exciting crash down from the sky across the horizon.

"Dawn, do you think-" His cousin began, her worry evident in the stiff way she held herself and the sharp whispers directed at him.

"If it is, we can't really effect it - Brush, no," Dawn began to reply, only to interrupt himself as his little brother mysteriously appeared at the window, eyes sparkling at the show that had just vanished. "We are diverting around wherever that landed. No 'if's, 'and's or 'but's. It is not worth it in the slightest."

"Awwwwww," Brush Fire whined, directing large and sad eyes at the placid face of his older sibling. For a moment, the contest warred, before Dawn's eyes narrowed.

"We both know that won't work."

"It works sometimes!" Brush cheerfully replied, before Springshooed him beck to the rest of the foals.

"Anyways, we'll want to avoid that as best we can. Shouldn't be hard to find a route leading around from whatever that was," Dawn continued as Spring turned back to him. "We won't have to move yet, at least. Rain's going too hard - any raiders out there'll already be under cover."

"You know that doesn't always apply. Maybe whoever shelters here just got caught too far out of position and are making their way back, now."

Dawn gave her a flat look. "There's no signs of recent prior habitation here, and we aren't taking the kids out into that," He replies, jerking his head outside into the rain. "We might get a few singular travelers, nothing more. I seriously doubt we'll get jumped tonight."

Even still, Spring looks unconvinced, rubbing one foreleg against the other as se looks away. "...I dunno. I have a bad feeling about tonight," She very quietly replied. "Whatever that was... it was definitely a bad omen. Something bad will..."

Click to shrink...

"...mud, mud, what good is mud? Why does dirt even morph like that?"

Golden Gears, as was often her habit, muttered to herself as she trotted along. The wider wasteland was something the Tower always had scarce information on. The Great Storm rarely let one in, or out, without a fight. So information was rare. She'd read up on what she could after she volunteered, because it was better to be safe than sorry! Knowledge was an important tool, and to arm yourself was to be better prepared to face the future.

Golden Gears still felt like she'd rather be reading about rain in a textbook, instead of this more intimate demonstration she was unpleasantly experiencing.

"I mean, really. Sloshing like that? That's not what dirt is supposed to do! Dirt is hard and solid!"

Her gear was made for the cold. Built for the freezing temperature and the wet that could sink through fur and leave you sick for weeks—or dead. Rain, though? It wasn't as good for that as she'd thought it would be.

Especially not this kind of rain.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

"A little drizzle. Got you down? Come into. Sunny Field Grocer!"

The protect-buck was doing its damndest to keep up with her. She had found it after she cleared the Great Storm and…buried Strongarm in the way they weren't able to do for Radiant. Shivered her way through that old, dark place. Her laser pistol and unpleasant taste on her mouth. Only to find the place empty, and cleared of anything edible. And then Buddy, in its charging pod. She spent an hour at the terminal, eyes drooping in exhaustion, before she managed to reprogram it to stand watch while she cried herself to sleep.

The pale green protect-buck certainly wasn't built for running, and having spent a good deal of her time outside Vanhoover with Buddy, she could see why the Equestrian government moved towards tracked robots, or even the hovering ones like sprite-bots. Still, that was a mean jog it got. Buddy kept up with her decently, as they made their way towards the old warehouse.

"C'mon Buddy, I don't want to be caught out here for another-"

Golden Gears yelp was swallowed by the storm as a big hunk of metal crashed down. Instinct saw her pressed to the ground, ears flat against her skull, before her mind fully registered that the loud noise was not particularly threatening to her, specifically. She blinked as it went down messily, spilling its guts all over the countryside. Then she looked up.

That came from above the cloud cover?

A proper flying machine…that took effort. A lot of effort. And a lot of knowhow. The Tower had some records on them, a leftover from being an old Ministry base, but it was one thing to read a blueprint and another to catch an actual glimpse of one!

Even if it was just for a few seconds as it, ah, crashed.

Golden Gears shook her head as she stood up, sticking out her tongue in disgust at the sensation of slimy mud smeared all over her chest and stomach.

Buddy, of course, had dutifully stopped behind her.

"Bleh. Mud. I think I hate mud."

She glanced towards the crash site. Maybe-

No. No, she couldn't go to it. Not in this storm. And besides, much as she hoped the pilot survived the landing, she wasn't sure she would want to be around whenever the people who owned that aircraft came looking for it.

"C'mon," she muttered.

She and Buddy plodded up to the old warehouse, the rain lashing at them the whole time. Rain. Rain and mud. She hated both those things now.

Finally, sweet, sweet cover-

Golden Gears stopped in her tracks as she saw the pinkish light. She was coming to rapidly learn that, in the wider wasteland, color that looked off was off in some way, shape, or form. And that rarely was a pleasant thing. And…were those voices?

For a second she stood there, shivering in the rain, staring at that light poking out through the cracks in the warehouse.

Could be bad.

Could be friends. Well, maybe not friends. But she's met some perfectly polite people out in the wasteland. Usually in settlements. Which this was not one.

But that didn't mean that these would be bad people. Who knows, maybe she'd meet some new friends? At least someone who'd be willing to let her share a campfire and a roof for a night. Swap some stories, maybe. Learn a little more about the world.

She looked down–yup, laser pistol in easy reach. Shuffle back a bit…and now Buddy was just beside her, ready to be ducked behind if necessary.

"H-Hello?" Golden Gears said, before coughing as her voice cracked slightly. Great, hadn't done that in a while. "Sorry. Um, hi? I don't…ah, don't mean to disturb you. But its a little bad out here. If anyones actually in there and I'm not talking to, like, an experimental light bulb or something, then would you mind if I came in?"

She paused, wincing as the rain beat down. Oh, right!

"Ah, right, um, my name is Golden Gears!"

It was always important to introduce yourself, after all.

 

[Sablonus]

Yes, better hurry along.

Click to shrink...

Shiny. Rad-green cataracts glazed over beneath his hat's dripping brim. Not a bloodwing, bloatsprite, or phoenix. When was.. For a moment, prismatic fire washed across a prettier set of eyes. When was the last time.. Steel rang and blood sang, horn crackling with resigned violence.

When was the last time.. He'd seen a cloudship, knocked from th..?

Thunder shattered his train of thought, casting the ghoul back into the Now. To the skeletal muzzle and sunken, hollow gaze on the falling star as it vanished into the storm. Mighty pretty, it was. Not as pretty as him of course, but- Pretty. The inevitable impact? Little less. Weren't a pony alive that could claim the same of him, though. Knew for a fact he was still pretty as ever- Pretty damn smug. No megaspell Now or Before could wipe the smirk from his muzzle, nosiree.

And they'd damn well tried. The grinning skull hissed with sardonic mirth as he continued forward, bandages heavy with rain. No, whatever was out there wasn't his problem. He pulled his hat forward, jagged stump aching beneath it. He had a lot riding on this trek and didn't have time for pitstops- Unless it was to rest his bones. Beauty sleep was important. No, his only problem was how this rain made his regalia hang off him like- Like sugar floss from barbed wire.

No, that was a terrible simile. The colts back in.. Wherever that was.. Would've laughed him out of the studio if they could.. Could see him. Or was it barracks..? Bare teeth clicked. Well. They couldn't. See him, that was. Cataracts darted aside in the direction of the light, before being forcibly dragged back.

Naw. Nuh-uh. Nay. Bitterbriar drew his waterlogged poncho closer and deflated as the walk stretched on, faded mane clinging to mottled skin. The thought of helping would be ludicrous under normal conditions, much less these. It was galling. They needed- No, what he needed was two, maybe three walls and a roof before lightning hit. Or a landslide. Or Celestia forbid, some hibernating mass of fangs and claws was rained into the open.

So why'd he turn when he'd heard hooves on steel?

For a moment, the ghoul lingered on the feeling from Before. The way it dragged at what remained of his heart's rotting sinew. Embers of oaths and fealty danced behind the acid pits he called eyes. But- It was nothing. Just a burning memory. "Heartaches, heartaches.." It slipped from him like sand through hooves. "What does it matter, how the heart, breaks.." From his throat, a silky baritone any other pony might've called ill-fitting for a ghoul.

Bitterbriar paused as lightning flashed, casting his shadow over a silhouette of armored plates and mishappen wings.

I smack myself again. "Focus you useless mule!"

Click to shrink...

No. NOOO- NOOOOOOO- "..Yer' hurt." He called out before he could stop himself, the blue star pinned to his chest glistening in the rain.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox watched the tribe of kirins from his far corner up on the catwalks, camoflagued and still. Their initial search had completely overlooked him, which meant they had hustled their foals in shortly before the first raindrops began to fall. He watched them settle in and gather scraps of wood from the surrounding crates, igniting them into a campfire with a strangely-colored magic flame. Food was passed out, adults were assigned to watch the foals and keep a lookout, and a radio was brought out and turned on to DJ Pon3's broadcast. He quickly pinpointed a dark red stallion with a fiery two-tone mane taking charge before poking around the warehouse even more.

Despite the destitute conditions, this resembled cozy. It tasted cozy.

It was like the kirins had unwittingly spread a feast out in front of him. To come out of hiding now and surprise them, or to bide his time and just let this be dangled in front of him?

The rain pounded harder and found places to fall through. A wait was going to be long. One of the kirin at the window gasped and made a motion to outside as lightning flashed- Ternox caught a glimpse of something rainbow falling across the clouds before it vanished into the distance.

Click to shrink...

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

A family united, home of the heart, gathered safe as the outside raged, watchful, protective, warmth of unity, soothing of aches as the food dulled the pain of hunger and eating together brought the feelings of closeness and belonging, with flickers of a tragedy recent enough it still was felt, but far enough that it wasn't all consuming, brief longing for those not here and worry for those uncertain in fate.

It was a good taste, a taste of cozy, of togetherness from outside danger. Bit of spicy undertone, probably from them being Kirin, but not too bad, like spiced cider. An interesting flavor. Slightly marred by the tragedy, but that was the Wasteland for you.

Even if the story he was seeking was false, and he was lead astray by the rumors, it'd be interesting to travel with this group for a time, take in their unique flavor.

But, kirins were unfamiliar. Ternox had seen them before in larger populated areas, but they were rare. A group stumbling into him was unprecedented in his recollection. He had no idea if they'd be more defensive, aggressive than pony colonies and in a situation like this.. well, there were fallback positions he had noted before nesting here, lesser but doable. But no, best to stay still, get a read on them, learn their weaknesses, their habits.

But most of all he observed for those he could ply his trade to. Wounded, ill, pregnant. If opportunity for ingratiation was there, then he'd gladly take it once the storm had lessened, opportunity presented or discovery not on his terms was coming close.

As a changeling he knew that first impressions were everything. And they knew that being pinned in by a storm into a small area made one more wary and defensive. No need to rush things.

Unnaturally still for a pony, whose people always were fluid and bouncy, as if designed by life to dance and play, they waited and observed, cold eyes staring through a gas mask down below like a predator gazing at it's prey for weaknesses, only the difference was that they would patch up those weaknesses instead of use them to murder them.

After all, gratitude and appreciation got the good emotions flowing to you. And the wasteful draining was something rarely practiced these days, save for on lone raiders and the like that got taken by surprise. After all, emotional beings weren't as plentiful anymore.

A gasp caught their attention and their head tilted. Something rainbow fell through the sky. Odd. Unique. Things fallen from the heavens.. seemed potentially valuable. He did his best to calculate the landing.. maybe he could join this herd in getting it, if it brought them riches, they'd see his presence as bringing good fortune. And if they were going for the same goal as he was, traveling with them would keep him better sated.

Then the dialogue about it happened. Bad omen? It was potential resources, material to sell though... Ah well, it seemed they were more spiritual types, or gloomier, less willing to take risks, at least the leader. Disappointing.

"H-Hello?" Golden Gears said, before coughing as her voice cracked slightly. Great, hadn't done that in a while. "Sorry. Um, hi? I don't…ah, don't mean to disturb you. But its a little bad out here. If anyones actually in there and I'm not talking to, like, an experimental light bulb or something, then would you mind if I came in?"

She paused, wincing as the rain beat down. Oh, right!

"Ah, right, um, my name is Golden Gears!"

Click to shrink...

Then came the sound of some unfortunate soul calling out from the rain. Opportune. Either they'd show the nature of these Kirin towards outsiders and let him have a better idea of how to approach, or they'd be raiders and he might earn some gratitude if they weren't too large a group. But by the sound of the voice, hard to hear over the pounding rain, it was some stable dweller out and about.

This would be an interesting show.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

She looked down–yup, laser pistol in easy reach. Shuffle back a bit…and now Buddy was just beside her, ready to be ducked behind if necessary.

"H-Hello?" Golden Gears said, before coughing as her voice cracked slightly. Great, hadn't done that in a while. "Sorry. Um, hi? I don't…ah, don't mean to disturb you. But its a little bad out here. If anyones actually in there and I'm not talking to, like, an experimental light bulb or something, then would you mind if I came in?"

She paused, wincing as the rain beat down. Oh, right!

"Ah, right, um, my name is Golden Gears!"

Click to shrink...

From within, eyes suddenly shone with reflected light as they turned to look at the door, before from behind the doorframe steps... Well, they kind of looked like a unicorn, but in a way unlike any unicorn you'd seen. Their horn was curved back above their head, and had a little branch in the back. Their mane in orange and yellows flowed down around their neck to come together in front of their chest, and yellow scales decorated their muzzle and back, and the grooves of their horn shone with blue light a a shotgun floated at their side, very deliberately not pointed in your direction.

"...You don't strike me as a Raider," The honestly really androgynous 'unicorn' spoke after a few minutes. "Come in. Please don't cause any trouble - there are children here."

As Golden Gear would step in, the 'unicorn' would step aside, and Golden Gear would be able to get a good count of the inhabitants. Fourteen of these 'unicorns' would be about - eight of them younger colts and fillies, mostly piled up by the fire in a mass of fluffy manes and shining eyes. The other six were about your age, and were more scattered about the warehouse than the children. Each of them had a weapon nearby, and all of them were looking at you with some flavor of distrust outside the one who'd invited you in. There were no older 'unicorns' in this group, either.

"...My name is Dawn. Dawn Blaze," The one who'd invited you in continued. "Make yourself comfortable."

 

[triumph8w]

From within, eyes suddenly shone with reflected light as they turned to look at the door, before from behind the doorframe steps... Well, they kind of looked like a unicorn, but in a way unlike any unicorn you'd seen. Their horn was curved back above their head, and had a little branch in the back. Their mane in orange and yellows flowed down around their neck to come together in front of their chest, and yellow scales decorated their muzzle and back, and the grooves of their horn shone with blue light a a shotgun floated at their side, very deliberately not pointed in your direction.

"...You don't strike me as a Raider," The honestly really androgynous 'unicorn' spoke after a few minutes. "Come in. Please don't cause any trouble - there are children here."

As Golden Gear would step in, the 'unicorn' would step aside, and Golden Gear would be able to get a good count of the inhabitants. Fourteen of these 'unicorns' would be about - eight of them younger colts and fillies, mostly piled up by the fire in a mass of fluffy manes and shining eyes. The other six were about your age, and were more scattered about the warehouse than the children. Each of them had a weapon nearby, and all of them were looking at you with some flavor of distrust outside the one who'd invited you in. There were no older 'unicorns' in this group, either.

"...My name is Dawn. Dawn Blaze," The one who'd invited you in continued. "Make yourself comfortable."

Click to shrink...

@Asmodemus

Golden Gear's blinked at the sight of the group within.

She honestly wasn't expecting so many. The only people she saw traveling the wasteland in big groups tended to be those caravan companies. Or raiders. Then again, what did she know? She knew how things worked in Vanhoover—here, in the wider world? Less so. They were an odd batch of unicorns, to be sure. Mutation wasn't an unfamiliar concept to her—the Great Storm had its fair share of horrors, and left its scars on ponies who still retained their sanity. But there was usually a…mishappeness to them. A bump here, a patch of furless skin there. A little sickly, even on the most healthy.

The scales on these unicorns looked…maybe clean was the wrong word. Too neat, too healthy looking. And the horns were smoothly curved. If she could spot any imperfections, then it looked more like the simple wear and tear one might experience in the wasteland.

Again, that irritating lack of knowledge.

"Thank you," Golden Gears said quietly as she stepped inside, trying not to let her ears press against her skull at all the eyes that focused on her. Buddy followed behind her, gait ironically more stiff now that it was walking, swaying a little as it waddled in after her.

She picked a corner that was close to the door, but out of the way, and resisted the urge to shake the rain off. She didn't want to spray any of these kids with it and…there sure were a lot of them. Without an adult in sight. Or, well, someone older than her, because a good few of them looked like they were as old and she was, and she was an adult and-

Right.

"Nice to meet you, Dawn Blaze!" Golden Gears said with a sigh as she sat down. It was so, so nice to be out of the rain. And in semi-friendly company too! This day was looking up, if she ignored the burning wreckage of that flying machine. And not asked about the mutation. "Got caught up in the storm too, huh? I can't say I'm too used to rain, and I think I don't like it very much."

Buddy did not sit. Being a full head taller than her when she was standing, the protect-buck instead loomed stiffly behind her.

"Remember. To. Buy war bonds. Support our brave. Soldiers. On the front lines. Help end the. Striped menace!"

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

Keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Come on, Morning...

It takes forever to reach the building, or at least it felt like it took forever. When I do reach the big dumb box that's the only shelter I can see for miles I almost collapse from relief.

But then... I hear the worst thing I could've heard. Voices.

"H-Hello?" Golden Gears said, before coughing as her voice cracked slightly. Great, hadn't done that in a while. "Sorry. Um, hi? I don't…ah, don't mean to disturb you. But its a little bad out here. If anyones actually in there and I'm not talking to, like, an experimental light bulb or something, then would you mind if I came in?"

She paused, wincing as the rain beat down. Oh, right!

"Ah, right, um, my name is Golden Gears!"

It was always important to introduce yourself, after all.

Click to shrink...

Mare. Young. Voice sounds like she hasn't used it in a while.

The name makes gives me pause. Golden Gears? Information on the Wasteland was given on a need to know basis, and my platoon and me had never Needed To Know anything about what went on there. Didn't stop us from wondering what sort of mutie tribes were running around down there- well, down here. Apparently there's some mutie tribe here who know what gears are?

"...You don't strike me as a Raider," The honestly really androgynous 'unicorn' spoke after a few minutes. "Come in. Please don't cause any trouble - there are children here."

(...)

"...My name is Dawn. Dawn Blaze," The one who'd invited you in continued. "Make yourself comfortable."

Click to shrink...

Stallion. Young. Suspicious? Wait CHILDREN!?

For a moment I just stand there, completely poleaxed by that knowledge. Whoever else is in there has brought children with them. Children they seem to be... caring for...?

I barely manage to catch the name of the other pony inside. Dawn Blaze.

"Thank you," Golden Gears said quietly as she stepped inside, trying not to let her ears press against her skull at all the eyes that focused on her. Buddy followed behind her, gait ironically more stiff now that it was walking, swaying a little as it waddled in after her.

(...)

"Nice to meet you, Dawn Blaze!" Golden Gears said with a sigh as she sat down. It was so, so nice to be out of the rain. And in semi-friendly company too! This day was looking up, if she ignored the burning wreckage of that flying machine. And not asked about the mutation. "Got caught up in the storm too, huh? I can't say I'm too used to rain, and I think I don't like it very much."

(...)

"Remember. To. Buy war bonds. Support our brave. Soldiers. On the front lines. Help end the. Striped menace!"

Click to shrink...

Mechanical. Slow processor. Still thinks we're in the Great War.

Apparently Golden Gears brought a mechanical friend with her. Quite clever for a mutie; maybe her tribe found a Robronco warehouse and learned how to fix them up to do things for them? That might be why she's got that name...

A twinge from my bro- injured wing brings me back to the uncomfortable reality: the only shelter for miles is filled with mutants. Two of them (well, three, but I'm not counting the robopony) are talking, but there's bound to be more of them inside. An unknown number of muties, with an unknown number of weapons between them.

The plasma rifles to either side of me twitch in their robotic mounts.

... and they're all talking. Peacefully. For now. Who knows what goes on in the heads of muties --again, information is all Need to Know, but it doesn't take any clearance to figure out that Equestria's still a wasteland for a reason-- and who knows how they'd react to me. Especially that mare from the tech-scavenging tribe; what would she do to bring all my gear back to her tribe?

>efs.pam ACTIVE -f -m -G

The plasma rifles grow warm, and EFS snaps into targetting mode. Better make sure-

...there are children here...

The rifles twitch. Mutie children.

...

I, Morning Mist, do swear to serve loyally the Grand Pegasus Enclave, to defend our way of life against the horrors below, to keep guard over our families above, and to comport myself with honor and distinction, even at the cost of my life's blood.

>efs.pam DEACTIVATE

The rifles grow cold, and nestle into their rest mounts. I sigh. Hard way it is. But I guess that's the point, isn't it?
I open my mouth to-

Bitterbriar paused as lightning flashed, casting his shadow over a silhouette of armored plates and mishappen wings.

No. NOOO- NOOOOOOO- "..Yer' hurt." He called out before he could stop himself, the blue star pinned to his chest glistening in the rain.

Click to shrink...

"HOLY BUCKING SHIT!!"

-scream, apparently. I jump a few wingspans off the ground and instinct makes me crash through the door I'd been planning on entering through. I roll once, hiss in pain when I land on my injured wing and then roll to my other side.

There's a pink fire casting an eerie glow to the whole room. There's a ground-pounder mutie mare wrapped in protective clothing staring at me, a pony-shaped robot and... oh that's a lot of... what are those? They almost look like unicorns, but the horn's all wrong and there's scales.

Strangely, the first thought that hits me is that one of them looks... uh. I cannot tell if he's a stallion or not.

The second, more meaningful thought, is that none of them look old enough for conscription (although who the heck knows with muties) and eight of them are very, very small.

I scramble to my hooves, turning to face the knocked over door.

"What the b-heck is your problem you-" I start to snarl... only to finally get a glimpse of the mutant standing outside the door. A rotting, semi-mummified husk that had once been a unicorn, wrapped in tatters and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, with a bright blue star that someone had pinned to his chest. Glowing green eyes stare back.

>efs.pam ACTIVE -f -s -G

The plasma rifles unlimber, and I find myself standing between the mutant and everypony else inside.

 

[Asmodemus]

Ternox/Sawbone Sid

It seemed that the Kirin were accepting the mare who seemed to be a stable dweller, or similarly sheltered earth pony. They weren't immediately trusting, but they also were rather polite for fellow Wastelanders, avoiding interrogating her as to what she was doing there.

The robot had escaped Ternox's notice, he didn't like bots, could never tell what they were feeling, probably cause they weren't. Emotionless husks. Never knew when one would be hostile or useful, not like ponies whose intentions you could smell from a mile off, no matter how sly they imagined themselves.

This was opportunity, swoop in as a older Wastelander, concerned for the mare, who had avoided detection due to their experience and knowledge and avoided conflict without point for why they hadn't shown up earlier. He mentally cast up his persona up more in years, to project the kind of wise mentor figure that the younger ones would appreciate once he displayed his knowledge. Wise mentor figure.

He silently moved to lounge in a relaxed position instead of the more hidden unponylike position he had been in, better to show non-hostility and ease, prepped for his big line to introduce himself and..

"HOLY BUCKING SHIT!!"

Click to shrink...

A screaming power armored figure burst through the doorway, before twisting around, starting to ask what the problem was with someone behind them it seemed and readied some kind of guns after cutting themselves off mid sentence.

This was a pony situation alright. Ternox analyzed the changed situation. He could just stay hidden? No, the power armored one might have detectors. Better to get involved.

Establishing neutrality then.

A laugh came from above, from a leather clothed figure wearing a plague doctor mask lounging on the catwalks, saddlebags displaying the bright white cross logo on a red circle, butterfly over the cross. "Seems everypony wants in here tonight. Ain't seen a show like this in months." Spoke Sawbone Sid.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

@Asmodemus

Golden Gear's blinked at the sight of the group within.

She honestly wasn't expecting so many. The only people she saw traveling the wasteland in big groups tended to be those caravan companies. Or raiders. Then again, what did she know? She knew how things worked in Vanhoover—here, in the wider world? Less so. They were an odd batch of unicorns, to be sure. Mutation wasn't an unfamiliar concept to her—the Great Storm had its fair share of horrors, and left its scars on ponies who still retained their sanity. But there was usually a…mishappeness to them. A bump here, a patch of furless skin there. A little sickly, even on the most healthy.

The scales on these unicorns looked…maybe clean was the wrong word. Too neat, too healthy looking. And the horns were smoothly curved. If she could spot any imperfections, then it looked more like the simple wear and tear one might experience in the wasteland.

Again, that irritating lack of knowledge.

"Thank you," Golden Gears said quietly as she stepped inside, trying not to let her ears press against her skull at all the eyes that focused on her. Buddy followed behind her, gait ironically more stiff now that it was walking, swaying a little as it waddled in after her.

She picked a corner that was close to the door, but out of the way, and resisted the urge to shake the rain off. She didn't want to spray any of these kids with it and…there sure were a lot of them. Without an adult in sight. Or, well, someone older than her, because a good few of them looked like they were as old and she was, and she was an adult and-

Right.

"Nice to meet you, Dawn Blaze!" Golden Gears said with a sigh as she sat down. It was so, so nice to be out of the rain. And in semi-friendly company too! This day was looking up, if she ignored the burning wreckage of that flying machine. And not asked about the mutation. "Got caught up in the storm too, huh? I can't say I'm too used to rain, and I think I don't like it very much."

Buddy did not sit. Being a full head taller than her when she was standing, the protect-buck instead loomed stiffly behind her.

"Remember. To. Buy war bonds. Support our brave. Soldiers. On the front lines. Help end the. Striped menace!"

Click to shrink...

Dawn's eyes slid over to the robot that had followed this 'Golden Gears'. "I hope you're prepared for what's about to happen," he stated, a hint of dry amusement in his voice as he pre-lit his horn to catch Brush Fire mid-leap onto the robot. "Brush here hasn't seen many old robots like that, and his first reaction to anything new is to jump at it. Please understand."

For his part, the colt's eyes were sparkling, and a wordless high-pitched noise was emanating out of his mouth even as Spring picked him out of the air with a roll of her eyes. "He's just Like That," She added, with various amused chuckles and snickers from the rest of the group.

"So, anyways-" Dawn began, before suddenly things got loud.

"HOLY BUCKING SHIT!!"

-scream, apparently. I jump a few wingspans off the ground and instinct makes me crash through the door I'd been planning on entering through. I roll once, hiss in pain when I land on my injured wing and then roll to my other side.

There's a pink fire casting an eerie glow to the whole room. There's a ground-pounder mutie mare wrapped in protective clothing staring at me, a pony-shaped robot and... oh that's a lot of... what are those? They almost look like unicorns, but the horn's all wrong and there's scales.

Strangely, the first thought that hits me is that one of them looks... uh. I cannot tell if he's a stallion or not.

The second, more meaningful thought, is that none of them look old enough for conscription (although who the heck knows with muties) and eight of them are very, very small.

I scramble to my hooves, turning to face the knocked over door.

"What the b-heck is your problem you-" I start to snarl... only to finally get a glimpse of the mutant standing outside the door. A rotting, semi-mummified husk that had once been a unicorn, wrapped in tatters and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, with a bright blue star that someone had pinned to his chest. Glowing green eyes stare back.

>efs.pam ACTIVE -f -s -G

The plasma rifles unlimber, and I find myself standing between the mutant and everypony else inside.

Click to shrink...

To the kirin's credit, there was no hesitation from any of them. The sight of a Steel Ranger bursting through the back of the warehouse and swearing up a storm immediately had the adults bring their weapons to bear, horns shining with magic. The foals, having already been mostly clustered together, kept low even as Spring was just there in front of them, an angled magical barrier shimmering in front of her.

For his part, Dawnhad moved to in front of the barrier, ratcheting his shotgun as he focused on preventing the surge of frustrated anger from exploding out. Steel Rangers were bad. Even with his father's mastery of the Nirik state, he wouldn't take that fight against one of them if he had no choice. Dawn and the rest's comparative lack of mastery? They'd stand no chance if they gave in. Stay calm. Stay cool. Stay collected.

Avoid letting this explode into violence. Not in front of the kids.

"Steel Ranger! Whoever the Steel Ranger is aiming at! Please do not bring any violence within this place!" He called out, voice audible to everyone there. "If you're going to kill each other, please do it outside in the rain so we won't have to clean it up!"

A screaming power armored figure burst through the doorway, before twisting around, starting to ask what the problem was with someone behind them it seemed and readied some kind of guns after cutting themselves off mid sentence.

This was a pony situation alright. Ternox analyzed the changed situation. He could just stay hidden? No, the power armored one might have detectors. Better to get involved.

Establishing neutrality then.

A laugh came from above, from a leather clothed figure wearing a plague doctor mask lounging on the catwalks, saddlebags displaying the bright white cross logo on a red circle. "Seems everypony wants in here tonight. Ain't seen a show like this in months." Spoke Sawbone Sid.

Click to shrink...

And then there's this guy!

Dawn could only spare a quick glance over at whoever this is. "Spring, make sure whoever that is doesn't do anything untoward," He muttered backwards, getting a silent nod from his cousin.

 

[triumph8w]

Dawn's eyes slid over to the robot that had followed this 'Golden Gears'. "I hope you're prepared for what's about to happen," he stated, a hint of dry amusement in his voice as he pre-lit his horn to catch Brush Fire mid-leap onto the robot. "Brush here hasn't seen many old robots like that, and his first reaction to anything new is to jump at it. Please understand."

For his part, the colt's eyes were sparkling, and a wordless high-pitched noise was emanating out of his mouth even as Spring picked him out of the air with a roll of her eyes. "He's just Like That," She added, with various amused chuckles and snickers from the rest of the group.

"So, anyways-" Dawn began, before suddenly things got loud.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears let out a little chuckle as the colt was suspended midair in a magic field, giving Buddy a side eye. The protect-buck had a subroutine for handling kids, but she wasn't too sure if a flying tackle would've activated its self-defense procedures or not. Thankfully, they didn't have to find out. She couldn't blame Brush. Robots were exciting marvels of engineering! An impressive display of skill, industry and technical understanding.

"It's okay," Golden Gears said with a smile. "They can be a little finicky at times, but robots are very cool-"

"HOLY BUCKING SHIT!!"

-scream, apparently. I jump a few wingspans off the ground and instinct makes me crash through the door I'd been planning on entering through. I roll once, hiss in pain when I land on my injured wing and then roll to my other side.

There's a pink fire casting an eerie glow to the whole room. There's a ground-pounder mutie mare wrapped in protective clothing staring at me, a pony-shaped robot and... oh that's a lot of... what are those? They almost look like unicorns, but the horn's all wrong and there's scales.

Strangely, the first thought that hits me is that one of them looks... uh. I cannot tell if he's a stallion or not.

The second, more meaningful thought, is that none of them look old enough for conscription (although who the heck knows with muties) and eight of them are very, very small.

I scramble to my hooves, turning to face the knocked over door.

"What the b-heck is your problem you-" I start to snarl... only to finally get a glimpse of the mutant standing outside the door. A rotting, semi-mummified husk that had once been a unicorn, wrapped in tatters and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, with a bright blue star that someone had pinned to his chest. Glowing green eyes stare back.

>efs.pam ACTIVE -f -s -G

The plasma rifles unlimber, and I find myself standing between the mutant and everypony else inside.

Click to shrink...

@Sablonus

Golden Gears scrambled to her hooves, ears flattened against her skull at the sheer volume put out by the new arrival. She stared, wide-eyed, at the mare in the doorway. Was that power armor? Actual, factual power armor? One of the high points of pre-war Earth pony engineering!? But it was sleeker than she was used to, reading those old pre-war books and looking over pictures and the like—what survived the Last Day and the Great Storm, that is. And a battle-saddle to go with it, with…oh sweet Celestia that was actual plasma weaponry.

How-

Where-

Just-

Where did she come from!?

A screaming power armored figure burst through the doorway, before twisting around, starting to ask what the problem was with someone behind them it seemed and readied some kind of guns after cutting themselves off mid sentence.

This was a pony situation alright. Ternox analyzed the changed situation. He could just stay hidden? No, the power armored one might have detectors. Better to get involved.

Establishing neutrality then.

A laugh came from above, from a leather clothed figure wearing a plague doctor mask lounging on the catwalks, saddlebags displaying the bright white cross logo on a red circle, butterfly over the cross. "Seems everypony wants in here tonight. Ain't seen a show like this in months." Spoke Sawbone Sid.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears shrunk against the wall, dimly aware she was gripping her laser pistol in her mouth, head twisting as she tried to take in the whole scene. Something was beyond the door, there was a tense, shouting figure with plasma and power armor, and then someone was up in the rafters the whole time, with Dawn Blazes group apparently being unaware of them. Was everyone about to start shooting? Would she fail her people, right here, right now, simply because she didn't want to get a little wet?

"Lesh jus…calmsh dowshn, ye?" Golden Gears said through her pistol grip, voice wavering somewhat.

Beside her, Buddy had shuffled to look towards the door. The protect-buck watching the display with about as much emotion as one might expect from its admittedly primitive computer brain.

"Warning! Please do not. Rough house. In the store. Sunny Field Grocer. Will not be. Liable for any. Injuries."

 

[Sablonus]

"HOLY BUCKING SHIT!!"

Click to shrink...

When she leapt, Briar dared hope the mare wasn't actually injured, just defective- But the hiss of pain put those dreams to a swift rest. Part of him took heart in the response, assured he still possessed a certain presence. The rest of him took in the building with a sigh, growing more exhausted with the situation after each new face. It was like somebody'd cracked a rat's nest open- Or a slaver's camp. Or a schoolhouse. Not much difference.

"What the b-heck is your problem you-" The plasma rifles unlimber, and I find myself standing between the mutant and everypony else inside.

Click to shrink...

"Steel Ranger! Whoever the Steel Ranger is aiming at! Please do not bring any violence within this place!" He called out, voice audible to everyone there. "If you're going to kill each other, please do it outside in the rain so we won't have to clean it up!"

Click to shrink...

"Seems everypony wants in here tonight. Ain't seen a show like this in months." Spoke Sawbone Sid.

Click to shrink...

"Lesh jus…calmsh dowshn, ye?" Golden Gears said through her pistol grip, voice wavering somewhat. "Warning! Please do not. Rough house. In the store. Sunny Field Grocer. Will not be. Liable for any. Injuries."

Click to shrink...

Briar hadn't moved- Cataracts drifted between the myriad of voices from where he stood in the rain, before the ghoul glanced over his shoulder almost longingly. Maybe it wasn't too late to take the storm over all this. Some acid rain never hurt anybody, yeah? And plasma was a lot worse for ghoulflesh than ballistics. In every sense, it seemed best he turn and skedaddle then and there. His eyes caught sight of more in the dark-

Foals, huddling away.

..They'd be fine. Power armor, bots, and medical supplies? They were better off than most caravans. He almost turned tail, almost washed his hooves of it all- But then, even if the pegasus had powered that thing down before he'd spooked her through the wall, if the threat left, who was to say what'd..? Aw, hell. Naw, nay, no! He eyed the glowing barrel, the climbing tensions, and wild interjections a second time as the dust began to settle.

Sweet Celly's Succotash.

"..My problem?" The baritone drawled, "The only dry patch for miles is swarming with lily-hoofed raiderbait." Lightning cracked the sky behind him, casting his shadow onto those gathered before the purple-pink spellfire. What the hell were her pegasi pals smoking up there?

Weapons out and worries high, an errant twitch could very well send the foa- Send him, down another big sleep. He'd have to take care not to provoke anybody. Could probably start by pointing out that if he wanted to hurt the mare in the suit, he'd have hit her instead of speaking up.

"What's the matter, Bugly?" The skull wheezed, "Never seen a Ghoul? Or just jealous it's wearing rags better than you wear wings?"

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

Golden Gears scrambled to her hooves, ears flattened against her skull at the sheer volume put out by the new arrival. She stared, wide-eyed, at the mare in the doorway. Was that power armor? Actual, factual power armor? One of the high points of pre-war Earth pony engineering!? But it was sleeker than she was used to, reading those old pre-war books and looking over pictures and the like—what survived the Last Day and the Great Storm, that is. And a battle-saddle to go with it, with…oh sweet Celestia that was actual plasma weaponry.

Click to shrink...

To the kirin's credit, there was no hesitation from any of them. The sight of a Steel Ranger bursting through the back of the warehouse and swearing up a storm immediately had the adults bring their weapons to bear, horns shining with magic. The foals, having already been mostly clustered together, kept low even as Spring was just there in front of them, an angled magical barrier shimmering in front of her.

For his part, Dawn had moved to in front of the barrier, ratcheting his shotgun as he focused on preventing the surge of frustrated anger from exploding out. Steel Rangers were bad. Even with his father's mastery of the Nirik state, he wouldn't take that fight against one of them if he had no choice. Dawn and the rest's comparative lack of mastery? They'd stand no chance if they gave in. Stay calm. Stay cool. Stay collected.

Avoid letting this explode into violence. Not in front of the kids.

"Steel Ranger! Whoever the Steel Ranger is aiming at! Please do not bring any violence within this place!" He called out, voice audible to everyone there. "If you're going to kill each other, please do it outside in the rain so we won't have to clean it up!"

Click to shrink...

And of course the other mutants point their guns at me. Of bucking course.

I turn my head, just enough to look at what they're doing out of the corner of my eye. One's casting an angled barrier, the rest have their horns lit around weapons.

>efs.pam LIST -v

... Well, calling them weapons would be generous. It's a whole bunch of pipe-guns, with a couple pre-war pistols mixed in; no offensive magic to be found, if they're not keeping that hidden for a rainy day. The most dangerous weapon there is the shotgun, but the chances of random muties finding armour-piercing slugs for those are thin.

The less-mutated mare, meawhile, is just staring at me. There's fear in her posture, and I get the brief impression that I'm looking at civilian. Ironically enough, she's the most well-armed of the lot with the energy pistol in her holster.

I come out of EFS. The stallion standing in front of the cast shield is shouting at me about something. Steel Rangers? What!?

I rack my brain for a moment on what the buck this mutie's talking about. It takes a long second for my memory to cough up the briefing notes again --well, long for me, longer for the mutie staring at power armor staring back-- and I remember one of the possible threats INTEL had identified. A techno-barbaric cult with delusions of knightly grandeur and an excess of pre-war power armor.

... Hah.

I tilt my head. There's an art to communicating contempt through a face-covering helmet.

"If I wanted you dead, you would be dead." The external speakers render my voice as a mechanical growl. My tail flicks, the blade folding out with a sound of tungsten gliding over ultra-light alloys. "Consider yourselves fortunate that I don't. Now point those peashooters somewhere else, before you kill each other with ricochets."

And then I just turn back towards the monster... but not before seeing a little green blip on my EFS that's unaccounted for.

A screaming power armored figure burst through the doorway, before twisting around, starting to ask what the problem was with someone behind them it seemed and readied some kind of guns after cutting themselves off mid sentence.

This was a pony situation alright. Ternox analyzed the changed situation. He could just stay hidden? No, the power armored one might have detectors. Better to get involved.

Establishing neutrality then.

A laugh came from above, from a leather clothed figure wearing a plague doctor mask lounging on the catwalks, saddlebags displaying the bright white cross logo on a red circle, butterfly over the cross. "Seems everypony wants in here tonight. Ain't seen a show like this in months." Spoke Sawbone Sid.

Click to shrink...

Oh for buck's sake!

>efs.pam MODE -m

The left plasma rifle swivels up to point at the newest mutant.

"Move and you're eating plasma."

"Lesh jus…calmsh dowshn, ye?" Golden Gears said through her pistol grip, voice wavering somewhat.

Beside her, Buddy had shuffled to look towards the door. The protect-buck watching the display with about as much emotion as one might expect from its admittedly primitive computer brain.

"Warning! Please do not. Rough house. In the store. Sunny Field Grocer. Will not be. Liable for any. Injuries."

Click to shrink...

The less-mutated mare --Golden Gears-- pipes up next. Followed by... uh.

The words coming from her robot are so out of left cloud that I have to just stare at it for a moment. Only a moment, though.

"I'll calm down after I've dealt with the bu- with the creepy undead corpse monster that's standing outsi-!"

"My problem?" The baritone drawled, "The only dry patch for miles is swarming with lily-hoofed raiderbait." Lightning cracked the sky behind him, casting his shadow onto those gathered before the purple-pink spellfire. What the hell were her pegasi friends smoking, up there?

He surveyed the stand-off. Weapons out and worries high, an errant twitch could very well send the foa- Send him, down another hundred year nap. He'd have to be careful not to provoke anybody. Could probably start by pointing out that if he wanted to hurt her, he'd have hit her instead of speaking up.

"What's the matter, Bugly?" The skull wheezed, "Never seen a Ghoul? Or just jealous it's wearing rags better than you wear wings?"

Click to shrink...

I blink.

"... You can talk!?"

 

[Asmodemus]

"Move and you're eating plasma."

Click to shrink...

"Ah'm a medic, just got doctorin' gear, a needler pistol and my horn." Sawbone Sid said calmly from his position above, very aware of the gun suddenly pointed at him. "Seems like you could use my services." The seeming unicorn slyly noted about her injury before letting the mare in the armor get back to her considerations of everyone else better armed than the only noted doctor in the building.

 

[triumph8w]

The less-mutated mare --Golden Gears-- pipes up next. Followed by... uh.

The words coming from her robot are so out of left cloud that I have to just stare at it for a moment. Only a moment, though.

"I'll calm down after I've dealt with the bu- with the creepy undead corpse monster that's standing outsi-!"


I blink.

"... You can talk!?"

Click to shrink...

"What's the matter, Bugly?" The skull wheezed, "Never seen a Ghoul? Or just jealous it's wearing rags better than you wear wings?"

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears winced at the mares voice, the mechanical growl sending shivers down her spine. She watched as the power armored strangers tail flicked a blade came out. That was very, very different from the power armor models she tried to study in her spare time. The priority was protection, then heavy weapons, so of course the tail received the same armored covering as the rest of the set. But this model...this model did more than cover the tail in armor, it made it into a weapon. That was...genius! In a deceptively simple way. Smooth, sleek, clever---it was such an elegant addition!

Golden Gears blinked, then shook her head a little. Right, not the time and place.

Slowly, carefully, she holstered the laser pistol again, keeping an eye on the armored mare. She'd like to do the same for the mutated unicorns, but, well, priorities. And they certainly seemed calmer than this new stranger. A very high tech, very armed stranger.

"He's...just a Ghoul, ma'am." Golden Gears said carefully. Did she not know what a Ghoul was? Maybe it was a little different in the wider wasteland. When she left Vanhoover the Tower was still trading with the Central Metro. A little hard to talk to, what with their reluctance to leave the metro system and come above ground, and the fact that they had brought in barrels of radioactive waste to keep themselves 'warm' in the face of the Great Storm, but still. At least, thats how it was when she left. Who knew what had changed, what--no, no, focus on the present.

"If he couldn't talk, then he wouldn't be standing there. He's not feral. And you're the one with the biggest gun here, so theres no harm in talking, right?"

Feral Ghouls were...she'd not prefer to think about them, to be honest.

Buddy was a reassuring presence at her shoulder, the protect-buck continuing to stare at the two in the door.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

When she leapt, Briar dared hope the mare wasn't actually injured, just defective- But the hiss of pain put those dreams to a swift rest. Part of him took heart in the response, assured he still possessed a certain presence. The rest of him took in the building with a sigh, growing more exhausted with the situation after each new face. It was like somebody'd cracked a rat's nest open- Or a slaver's camp. Or a schoolhouse. Not much difference.




Briar hadn't moved- Cataracts drifted between the myriad of voices from where he stood in the rain, before the ghoul glanced over his shoulder almost longingly. Maybe it wasn't too late to take the storm over all this. Some acid rain never hurt anybody, yeah? And plasma was a lot worse for ghoulflesh than ballistics. In every sense, it seemed best he turn and skedaddle then and there. His eyes caught sight of more in the dark-

Foals, huddling away.

..They'd be fine. Power armor, bots, and medical supplies? They were better off than most caravans. He almost turned tail, almost washed his hooves of it all- But then, even if the pegasus had powered that thing down before he'd spooked her through the wall, if the threat left, who was to say what'd..? Aw, hell. Naw, nay, no! He eyed the glowing barrel, the climbing tensions, and wild interjections a second time as the dust began to settle.

Sweet Celly's Succotash.

"..My problem?" The baritone drawled, "The only dry patch for miles is swarming with lily-hoofed raiderbait." Lightning cracked the sky behind him, casting his shadow onto those gathered before the purple-pink spellfire. What the hell were her pegasi pals smoking up there?

Weapons out and worries high, an errant twitch could very well send the foa- Send him, down another big sleep. He'd have to take care not to provoke anybody. Could probably start by pointing out that if he wanted to hurt the mare in the suit, he'd have hit her instead of speaking up.

"What's the matter, Bugly?" The skull wheezed, "Never seen a Ghoul? Or just jealous it's wearing rags better than you wear wings?"

Click to shrink...

[THE OFFICER]





And of course the other mutants point their guns at me. Of bucking course.

I turn my head, just enough to look at what they're doing out of the corner of my eye. One's casting an angled barrier, the rest have their horns lit around weapons.

>efs.pam LIST -v

... Well, calling them weapons would be generous. It's a whole bunch of pipe-guns, with a couple pre-war pistols mixed in; no offensive magic to be found, if they're not keeping that hidden for a rainy day. The most dangerous weapon there is the shotgun, but the chances of random muties finding armour-piercing slugs for those are thin.

The less-mutated mare, meawhile, is just staring at me. There's fear in her posture, and I get the brief impression that I'm looking at civilian. Ironically enough, she's the most well-armed of the lot with the energy pistol in her holster.

I come out of EFS. The stallion standing in front of the cast shield is shouting at me about something. Steel Rangers? What!?

I rack my brain for a moment on what the buck this mutie's talking about. It takes a long second for my memory to cough up the briefing notes again --well, long for me, longer for the mutie staring at power armor staring back-- and I remember one of the possible threats INTEL had identified. A techno-barbaric cult with delusions of knightly grandeur and an excess of pre-war power armor.

... Hah.

I tilt my head. There's an art to communicating contempt through a face-covering helmet.

"If I wanted you dead, you would be dead." The external speakers render my voice as a mechanical growl. My tail flicks, the blade folding out with a sound of tungsten gliding over ultra-light alloys. "Consider yourselves fortunate that I don't. Now point those peashooters somewhere else, before you kill each other with ricochets."

And then I just turn back towards the monster... but not before seeing a little green blip on my EFS that's unaccounted for.



Oh for buck's sake!

>efs.pam MODE -m

The left plasma rifle swivels up to point at the newest mutant.

"Move and you're eating plasma."



The less-mutated mare --Golden Gears-- pipes up next. Followed by... uh.

The words coming from her robot are so out of left cloud that I have to just stare at it for a moment. Only a moment, though.

"I'll calm down after I've dealt with the bu- with the creepy undead corpse monster that's standing outsi-!"



I blink.

"... You can talk!?"

Click to shrink...

"Ah'm a medic, just got doctorin' gear, a needler pistol and my horn." Sawbone Sid said calmly from his position above, very aware of the gun suddenly pointed at him. "Seems like you could use my services." The seeming unicorn slyly noted about her injury before letting the mare in the armor get back to her considerations of everyone else better armed than the only noted doctor in the building.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears winced at the mares voice, the mechanical growl sending shivers down her spine. She watched as the power armored strangers tail flicked a blade came out. That was very, very different from the power armor models she tried to study in her spare time. The priority was protection, then heavy weapons, so of course the tail received the same armored covering as the rest of the set. But this model...this model did more than cover the tail in armor, it made it into a weapon. That was...genius! In a deceptively simple way. Smooth, sleek, clever---it was such an elegant addition!

Golden Gears blinked, then shook her head a little. Right, not the time and place.

Slowly, carefully, she holstered the laser pistol again, keeping an eye on the armored mare. She'd like to do the same for the mutated unicorns, but, well, priorities. And they certainly seemed calmer than this new stranger. A very high tech, very armed stranger.

"He's...just a Ghoul, ma'am." Golden Gears said carefully. Did she not know what a Ghoul was? Maybe it was a little different in the wider wasteland. When she left Vanhoover the Tower was still trading with the Central Metro. A little hard to talk to, what with their reluctance to leave the metro system and come above ground, and the fact that they had brought in barrels of radioactive waste to keep themselves 'warm' in the face of the Great Storm, but still. At least, thats how it was when she left. Who knew what had changed, what--no, no, focus on the present.

"If he couldn't talk, then he wouldn't be standing there. He's not feral. And you're the one with the biggest gun here, so theres no harm in talking, right?"

Feral Ghouls were...she'd not prefer to think about them, to be honest.

Buddy was a reassuring presence at her shoulder, the protect-buck continuing to stare at the two in the door.

Click to shrink...

Wow, the instant the armored mare opened her mouth inside the suit and Dawn already didn't like her! A new record for someone not blatantly a slaver. The fact Dawn had to divert even more energy to keeping himself from exploding was honestly well done of whoever they were! And with those thoughts out of the way, Dawn could actually start figuring out how to calm everything down to stop any shooting.

And then the ghoul spoke, and Dawn's ears flicked. This was... He knew the voice. Not intimately or familiarly, but... wait. Yeah, three months ago. The last time Dawn had exploded, and two months before the Zebra Legions shattered the tribe. He'd been a caravan guard, hadn't he? So...

"Stand down," Dawn brusquely stated back to the rest, pointing his shotgun upwards and beginning to walk forwards. With careful, measured steps, he moved to between the pegasus(Just like his grandmother...) in the power armor and the ghoul. "I've met this one before. He calls himself 'Bitterbriar', if I remember correctly," He calmly states, glancing back for a moment to ensure he wasn't getting the ghoul's name wrong. "He is no danger if you are not a raider or a slaver. Please, put away your weapons. Let's not stain tonight with violence - especially not in front of the foals."

Now, this was probably a stupid idea. But right now, Dawn was Angry. Golden Gear was one thing, and the ghoul was another, but this mare just came in with her armor and weapons and started throwing around her weight like she owned the place! How dare she! How dare she bring violence here so casually! But raging wouldn't help. This was the only way he could use his anger - in this game of Chicken. According to his father, even Steel Rangers would back down in cases like this, most of the time.

He wasn't in her face. He wasn't acting aggressive. The only Nirik fire in the building was the campfire. He had merely placed himself in her way, and asked her to stop. So. What kind of person is the mare in the armor...?

 

[Sablonus]

The ghoul tried not to squint as he waited to crumple into plasma waste.

"... You can talk!?"

Click to shrink...

Oh thank Celly, she was an idiot. "Naw, you hit your noggin a lot worse than you thought coming off that.." Bird.. His mind flashed with sights and words warped by time, like clay in the funhouse mirror. Some sort of.. "-Keeeestrel, class cloudship over the hills." Bitterbriar prattled. Apparently, she wasn't the only idiot here. Though in his defense, he was staring down the barrel of her guns. What was h-? Oh yeah. Injured, lost, and alone.

"Seems like you could use my services."

Click to shrink...

He side eyed the doctor, scoffing as he pieced together the outfit. Trust his ilk to act the most suspicious of the lot. Offers too good to be true in the wastes probably were, unless it were folks like the Scorched. But then, most wasters couldn't tell an imposter from their own flank.

There was respect there for the real deal, begrudging as it was. At least, somewhere beneath the maelstrom of negative emotion. Frustration, fatigue, loathing, fear for the foals, and a dozen other things warred with vertigo and lunacy. His heart was less a mess and more the landfill itself.

"If he couldn't talk, then he wouldn't be standing there. He's not feral. And you're the one with the biggest gun here, so theres no harm in talking, right?"

Click to shrink...

Just a ghoul? Like any of those decade old rib nibblers could hold a candle to him! He'd held his mind for- "It's fine," He intoned with faux-sympathy to disguise any actual sympathy, "She's too chicken to talk without a hoof on the trigger." Really though, she was being smart. "Sh-"

"Stand down," Dawn brusquely stated back to the rest, pointing his shotgun upwards and beginning to walk forwards. With careful, measured steps, he moved to between the pegasus(Just like his grandmother...) in the power armor and the ghoul. "I've met this one before. He calls himself 'Bitterbriar', if I remember correctly," He calmly states, glancing back for a moment to ensure he wasn't getting the ghoul's name wrong. "He is no danger if you are not a raider or a slaver. Please, put away your weapons. Let's not stain tonight with violence - especially not in front of the foals."

Click to shrink...

Bitterbriar blinked dumbly, sunken cataracts dimming as he tried to recall the fur and scales. Was it..? No, too long ago- But th- Oh, right. Soon after he'd woken in the Whitetail, he and the caravan he'd hitched a ride with came across something like- Wait, what the hell was that about being a danger to raiders or slavers? He didn't like the implication of do-gooding. And hadn't the foals already seen worse? Ah- Balefire phoenixes in pony form.

He tried to recall more, but found himself distracted by the rain, and the guns, and the tiresome nature of the whole damn thing. Joints creaking, the ghoul slowly stepped out of the rain and sat himself down at the entrance, his caustic tone sobering to something the slightest inch more diplomatic.

"..I'd hear the mutie out, missy. Their tempers aren't all that run hot when the youngins're involved." The room's spellfire flickered between them all.

 

[Dalek Ix]

[THE OFFICER]

"Ah'm a medic, just got doctorin' gear, a needler pistol and my horn." Sawbone Sid said calmly from his position above, very aware of the gun suddenly pointed at him. "Seems like you could use my services." The seeming unicorn slyly noted about her injury before letting the mare in the armor get back to her considerations of everyone else better armed than the only noted doctor in the building.

Click to shrink...

The alleged doctor gets a momentary glance from me. The plasma rifle aimed at him doesn't move.

My wing aches.

Tension plateaus. Part of me is screaming that I should've just melted the talking corpse, but the rest of me knows that the moment somepony starts shooting, everypony will start shooting.

Slowly, carefully, she holstered the laser pistol again, keeping an eye on the armored mare. She'd like to do the same for the mutated unicorns, but, well, priorities. And they certainly seemed calmer than this new stranger. A very high tech, very armed stranger.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears moves first, to my surprise. I turn my head towards her, minutely. My tail flicks again, and I push against the urge to ruffle my feathers.

And then the walking corpse talks again.

Oh thank Celly, she was an idiot. "Naw, you hit your noggin a lot worse than you thought coming off that.." Bird.. His mind flashed with sights and words warped by time, like clay in the funhouse mirror. Some sort of.. "-Keeeestrel, class cloudship over the hills." Bitterbriar prattled. Apparently, she wasn't the only idiot here. Though in his defense, he was staring down the barrel of her guns. What'd she-? Right. Injured, lost, and alone.

Click to shrink...

"... Raptor-class," I correct hi- it automatically. "The Roanoke."

Suspicion hits immediately. How did it know what a cloudship was?

"He's...just a Ghoul, ma'am." Golden Gears said carefully. Did she not know what a Ghoul was? Maybe it was a little different in the wider wasteland. When she left Vanhoover the Tower was still trading with the Central Metro. A little hard to talk to, what with their reluctance to leave the metro system and come above ground, and the fact that they had brought in barrels of radioactive waste to keep themselves 'warm' in the face of the Great Storm, but still. At least, thats how it was when she left. Who knew what had changed, what--no, no, focus on the present.

"If he couldn't talk, then he wouldn't be standing there. He's not feral. And you're the one with the biggest gun here, so theres no harm in talking, right?"

Click to shrink...

"Just a... ghoul."

Despite the distortion the speakers give my voice, my... scepticism at the idea that the walking corpse is friendly. Because have you seen it!? There's no flesh on his muzzle!

Just a ghoul? Like any of those decade old rib nibblers could hold a candle to him! He'd held his mind for- "It's fine," He intoned with faux-sympathy to disguise any actual sympathy, "She's too chicken to talk without a hoof on the trigger." Really though, she was being smart. "Sh-"

Click to shrink...

I bristle. I can almost feel a mental fuse start to glow as the mutant's casual insult lands on top of the pile of everything that has happened to me; the attack, the crash, the pain and rain, my platoon.

My lips pull back into a snarl-

"Stand down," Dawn brusquely stated back to the rest, pointing his shotgun upwards and beginning to walk forwards. With careful, measured steps, he moved to between the pegasus(Just like his grandmother...) in the power armor and the ghoul. "I've met this one before. He calls himself 'Bitterbriar', if I remember correctly," He calmly states, glancing back for a moment to ensure he wasn't getting the ghoul's name wrong. "He is no danger if you are not a raider or a slaver. Please, put away your weapons. Let's not stain tonight with violence - especially not in front of the foals."

Now, this was probably a stupid idea. But right now, Dawn was Angry. Golden Gear was one thing, and the ghoul was another, but this mare just came in with her armor and weapons and started throwing around her weight like she owned the place! How dare she! How dare she bring violence here so casually! But raging wouldn't help. This was the only way he could use his anger - in this game of Chicken. According to his father, even Steel Rangers would back down in cases like this, most of the time.

He wasn't in her face. He wasn't acting aggressive. The only Nirik fire in the building was the campfire. He had merely placed himself in her way, and asked her to stop. So. What kind of person is the mare in the armor...?

Click to shrink...

Fortunately for the... ghoul, the stallion chooses this moment to make his own move. Which is to stand down the other muties with him, and then put himself between me and the living corpse. One which, I'm starting to realize, everypony in the room seems to be perfectly okay with.

The last thing he says, though... The memory of Soft Feather's scream compells me to reply.

"Stain tonight with violence..." My bitter chuckle sounds positively demonic out of the speakers. "It's too late for that, mutie. Unless you thought that the cloudship you must've seen going down was empty."

Bitterbriar blinked dumbly, sunken cataracts dimming as he tried to recall the fur and scales. Was it..? No, too long ago- But th- Oh, right. Soon after he'd woken in the Whitetail, he and the caravan he'd hitched a ride with came across something like- Balefire phoenixes in pony form. The ghoul tried to recall more, but found himself distracted by the rain, and the guns, and the tiresome nature of the whole damn situation. Joints creaking, the ghoul slowly stepped out of the rain and sat himself down at the entrance with a sigh, his caustic tone sobering to something the slightest bit more diplomatic.

"..I'd hear the mutie out, missy. Their tempers ain't the only things that run hot when the youngins're involved." The spellfire flickers in his eyes.

Click to shrink...

There's a heartbeats-long pause as I look from Golden Gear, to the stallion --Dawn, I think?-- and then to the corpse. It's all just a waste of time, because there's really only one way out of this thunderstorm. I turn to fully face the ghoul.

"... Of all the ponies in this room, you're the one who has the least right to be calling anything a mutie, mutant."

>efs.pam DEACTIVATE

The plasma rifles retract back into their rest mounts, and go cold once more. My tail flicks, and the tungsten blade folds back into its sheathe.

I exhale. I have to look down to look Dawn in the eye --I'm tall enough that the joke in bootcamp had been that I'd had some draft horse in my ancestry-- when I speak to him next.

"Lieutenant Morning Mist. I'm staying here until the storm passes and not a second more." I pause, for a moment, and then speak a little louder, so that everyone could hear. "I strongly suggest forgetting you ever saw me when I leave."

I shift my stance, and the motion sends another jolt of pain down my wing. The strangled, metallic noise that comes from the suit's speakers is not pretty.

Swallowing, I turn towards the alleged doctor. "Suit's autodoc's jammed, but there should be some... some healing potion in the tanks. Along with... with other meds. Use what you need... take the rest as payment."

 

[Asmodemus]

The alleged doctor gets a momentary glance from me. The plasma rifle aimed at him doesn't move.

Click to shrink...

The aimed rifle keeps Ternox compliant and from doing anything, analyzing the situation, watching, ready to bolt if things turned violent. Saving their own skin was the priority here after all.

The plasma rifles retract back into their rest mounts, and go cold once more. My tail flicks, and the tungsten blade folds back into its sheathe.

Click to shrink...

Sawbone Sid lets out a soft sigh of relief, just audible, the fear leaving him.

"Lieutenant Morning Mist. I'm staying here until the storm passes and not a second more." I pause, for a moment, and then speak a little louder, so that everyone could hear. "I strongly suggest forgetting you ever saw me when I leave."

Click to shrink...

A title, interesting. That meant some organized group involved. Not just some lucky punk that stumbled across a set of armor from before.

I shift my stance, and the motion sends another jolt of pain down my wing. The strangled, metallic noise that comes from the suit's speakers is not pretty.

Click to shrink...

And she had her wing busted up alright from the pain localized and her movements.

Swallowing, I turn towards the alleged doctor. "Suit's autodoc's jammed, but there should be some... some healing potion in the tanks. Along with... with other meds. Use what you need... take the rest as payment."

Click to shrink...

"Ah usually use my own supply, but I assume you'd prefer what drugs you brought with you, so those it'll be." The doctor said, tone serious as he acknowledged his patient's preferences, rising from his easy crouched position to a stand before he walked along the catwalks, fast but not rushing as he moved from where he was to another spot, then taking a short leap down to another position, moving along a circuitous route that made any particularly observant kirins there realize that there was little to no way he snuck up there during the storm, unless he was invisible, a few creaks and sounds along the way coming from the terrain.

"Ah'm assuming fall damage, maybe tearing from travel with it, any other complications? Get burnt? Vision blurry?" His voice was very serious as he addressed the mare, targeting potential issues as he neared, quickly levitating his bags up, doing some sorting to put drugs away with his pistol, all shown and seen and slid them back, coming closer with just his tools and questioning her where the tanks were, putting years of medical training and practice into work fluidly. He might have been joking earlier, but Sawbone Sid was a Scorched and he knew what he was doing.

 

[Sablonus]

"... Of all the ponies in this room, you're the one who has the least right to be calling anything a mutie, mutant."

>efs.pam DEACTIVATE

The plasma rifles retract back into their rest mounts, and go cold once more. My tail flicks, and the tungsten blade folds back into its sheathe.

Click to shrink...

The corpse bobbed in silent mirth. Of their gathered few, he was probably the only one who'd seen what things had mutated from. Well, he probably had. Hadn't she just called the colt a mutie too, though? Unfair. Only he was allowed to be a hypocrite. "Our androgyne seems a misfire away from smelling like surf and turf.." He muttered. "An' them horns look more like a big, red-"

The situation stabilized, danger ebbing- And with it, his attention as the Scorched descended to treat the 'Lieutenant'. Generous of her, to offer meds like that. Tying her to the crash was a shot in the dark, but had she already given up on finding survivors? There was no judgement- Only curiosity. Bitterbriar's hoof fiddled with the star on his chest, mind turning with topics at random. Rank.. He'd one of those once.. But, which was..?

Bitterbriar did a double take, glancing down and shaking his rags like a Hellhound. Rain splattered the grimy warehouse floor as he clambered past the negotiator, closer to the spellflames in an effort dry his flesh before it went moldy. Rads could only curb so much decomposition.

The skull glanced aside, catching sight of the filly who'd filled their visitor in on the wastes' post mortem. He doffed his cap, grinning her way before turning to the leader of the young. "Don't suppose your seniors just all went out foraging to give you some time with your girlfriend?" The baritone wheezed amusedly, head flicking in Golden Gear's direction.

 

[The Fourth Monado]

Fortunately for the... ghoul, the stallion chooses this moment to make his own move. Which is to stand down the other muties with him, and then put himself between me and the living corpse. One which, I'm starting to realize, everypony in the room seems to be perfectly okay with.

The last thing he says, though... The memory of Soft Feather's scream compells me to reply.

"Stain tonight with violence..." My bitter chuckle sounds positively demonic out of the speakers. "It's too late for that, mutie. Unless you thought that the cloudship you must've seen going down was empty."

There's a heartbeats-long pause as I look from Golden Gear, to the stallion --Dawn, I think?-- and then to the corpse. It's all just a waste of time, because there's really only one way out of this thunderstorm. I turn to fully face the ghoul.

"... Of all the ponies in this room, you're the one who has the least right to be calling anything a mutie, mutant."

>efs.pam DEACTIVATE

The plasma rifles retract back into their rest mounts, and go cold once more. My tail flicks, and the tungsten blade folds back into its sheathe.

I exhale. I have to look down to look Dawn in the eye --I'm tall enough that the joke in bootcamp had been that I'd had some draft horse in my ancestry-- when I speak to him next.

"Lieutenant Morning Mist. I'm staying here until the storm passes and not a second more." I pause, for a moment, and then speak a little louder, so that everyone could hear. "I strongly suggest forgetting you ever saw me when I leave."

I shift my stance, and the motion sends another jolt of pain down my wing. The strangled, metallic noise that comes from the suit's speakers is not pretty.

Swallowing, I turn towards the alleged doctor. "Suit's autodoc's jammed, but there should be some... some healing potion in the tanks. Along with... with other meds. Use what you need... take the rest as payment."

Click to shrink...

Dawn tilted his head in response to the armored mare's words. So she was from whatever'd been falling - a 'cloudship'? It really had been a bad omen. Like some cursed star falling from heaven, heralding this bitch's arrival and added complexity. That being said, he wouldn't directly disagree with a heavily armed mare. "Of course. It will be as if we never had met," He promised, moving around her as the Scorched - who definitely had to have been in here before they'd arrived - approached. That was definitely one of the interactions of all time! Could have definitely gone worse. Now, to ensure things didn't devolve thanks to some of the hotheads on his side.

"I really wish they'd stop using that word," Muttered one of the other Kirins as Dawn got back over to the fire, and Dawn shot him a look.

"Let it go. It's not worth starting a conflict over," He quietly stated, sitting down near the kids as Spring lowered her barrier. "There's no shooting happening, and that's all that matters."

The corpse bobbed in silent mirth. Of their gathered few, he was probably the only one who'd seen what things had mutated from. Well, he probably had. Hadn't she just called the colt a mutie too, though? Unfair. Only he was allowed to be a hypocrite. "Our androgyne seems a misfire away from smelling like surf and turf.." He muttered. "An' them horns look more like a big, red-"

The situation stabilized, danger ebbing- And with it, his attention as the Scorched descended to treat the 'Lieutenant'. Generous of her, to offer meds like that. Tying her to the crash was a shot in the dark, but had she already given up on finding survivors? There was no judgement- Only curiosity. Bitterbriar's hoof fiddled with the star on his chest, mind turning with topics at random. Rank.. He'd one of those once.. But, which was..?

Bitterbriar did a double take, glancing down and shaking his rags like a Hellhound. Rain splattered the grimy warehouse floor as he clambered past the negotiator, closer to the spellflames in an effort dry his flesh before it went moldy. Rads could only curb so much decomposition.

The skull glanced aside, catching sight of the filly who'd filled their visitor in on the wastes' post mortem. He doffed his cap, grinning her way before turning to the leader of the young. "Don't suppose your seniors just all went out foraging to give you some time with your girlfriend?" The baritone wheezed amusedly, head flicking in Golden Gear's direction.

Click to shrink...

Then the ghoul threw a crack at him, and yep - there's the anger again. But it is easily squashed, as Dawn placidly looks over at the ghoul. "Nope. Red-Eyes's forces launched a raid - scattered the tribe to the four winds," he simply replied. "We're taking the little ones to a safe pre-determined meeting spot a bit to the north, and wait for everyone else to regroup."

He doubted he'd have to explain Red-Eyes to anyone here - except, maybe, Morning Mist. And, honestly, he really didn't want to. Talking about Red-Eyes... brought up too many bad memories. He wasn't sure he'd be able to remain in control if the conversation went there.

 

[triumph8w]

Swallowing, I turn towards the alleged doctor. "Suit's autodoc's jammed, but there should be some... some healing potion in the tanks. Along with... with other meds. Use what you need... take the rest as payment."

Click to shrink...

"Ah'm assuming fall damage, maybe tearing from travel with it, any other complications? Get burnt? Vision blurry?" His voice was very serious as he addressed the mare, targeting potential issues as he neared, quickly levitating his bags up, doing some sorting to put drugs away with his pistol, all shown and seen and slid them back, coming closer with just his tools and questioning her where the tanks were, putting years of medical training and practice into work fluidly. He might have been joking earlier, but Sawbone Sid was a Scorched and he knew what he was doing.

Click to shrink...

Golden Gears breathed out slowly as the armored mare deactivated her weapons. That…that could've been really bad. But it wasn't, now. She peeled herself off the wall, ear flicking as she did so. Not exactly the most dignified of positions, but whatever. And she still had mud on her. Blech.

Golden Gears flicked a little of it off, looking at the armored mare from the corner of her eye, while Buddy shuffled to look away from the door to watch as much of the warehouse as it could. Golden Gears felt a little stupid for having to have it pointed out to her, but the armored mare was indeed a Pegasus. From the sounds of it, not one in a good way. A rare sight nowadays. And she came from that aircraft? That…could Golden have helped? Maybe. Drag people out of the crash site. But patching them together? She only knew some of the basics. Just enough to bind someone up and get them to an actual doctor. Maybe something went wrong with the engine or…they were shot down. In either case, the crew probably wouldn't have been all that jazzed to see some strange mare coming out of the rain.

Golden Gears watched as the doctor got to work on the armored mare, head tilted to the side.

She wondered what it would be like to fly.

The skull glanced aside, catching sight of the filly who'd filled their visitor in on the wastes' post mortem. He doffed his cap, grinning her way before turning to the leader of the young. "Don't suppose your seniors just all went out foraging to give you some time with your girlfriend?" The baritone wheezed amusedly, head flicking in Golden Gear's direction.

Click to shrink...

It took a second for Golden Gears to register what the Ghoul–what Bitterbrair–said.

Golden blinked rapidly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as she hunched down slightly. "I'm not- You- We don't even know each other!"

Golden Gears scuffed a hoof on the wooden floor, turning away from the entrance. Really, he goes from having genuine plasma weaponry pointed at his face and he's still throwing around barbs?

"Not like the community rules would even allow it…" She muttered to herself.

Then the ghoul threw a crack at him, and yep - there's the anger again. But it is easily squashed, as Dawn placidly looks over at the ghoul. "Nope. Red-Eyes's forces launched a raid - scattered the tribe to the four winds," he simply replied. "We're taking the little ones to a safe pre-determined meeting spot a bit to the north, and wait for everyone else to regroup."

Click to shrink...

Oh.

Dawn Blazes words washed over her while she sulked in the corner. She'd heard about this Red-Eye on the radio, and from any friendly travelers—usually traders. The council had tried to prepare the expeditions as best they could, but it was rare for anyone to actually enter Vanhoover, making it difficult to get concrete information on the wider wasteland.

Red-Eye was bad news. And these kids were running from him.

And they let her in.

"I'm…sorry to hear that," Golden Gears said softly. She couldn't offer up much else at this point.

Actually…

"If you guys have any equipment that needs a tune-up, I can take a look at it. Looks like we'll be here for a bit anyways."

 

[Asmodemus]

Then the ghoul threw a crack at him, and yep - there's the anger again. But it is easily squashed, as Dawn placidly looks over at the ghoul. "Nope. Red-Eyes's forces launched a raid - scattered the tribe to the four winds," he simply replied. "We're taking the little ones to a safe pre-determined meeting spot a bit to the north, and wait for everyone else to regroup."

Click to shrink...

"Sad stuff. Hope as many of your folks got away fine as they could." Offered Sawbone Sid who had never given his name yet as he worked, attention not truly wavering as his energy field displayed as it went about it's business. "Once mah patient here's all patched up and vanishes away to her sneaky group, whoever they are, ah'm headed to chase the rumors of a new kingdom up north, see if a trained doc can help em out if they've not yet learned what's up with the Wasteland. Share survival tips and whatnot. Try to get the Scorched welcomed there.

Was gonna introduce myself once I saw you welcome in the adorahable filly there." His head bobbed towards the earth pony mare in the room. "Before that, planned to when the rain stopped so running away wasn't as big an issue. Can't be too careful in the wasteland. And ought to check the high ups of places you're bunking in, never know when there might be bats roosting or the like." He gave some friendly advice to the Kirin in a mix of experienced survivalist and mirthful humor.

 

[Sablonus]

Golden blinked rapidly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as she hunched down slightly. "I'm not- You- We don't even know each other!"

Click to shrink...

He glanced back, where rain lashed at the wastes beyond. "Seems you two've got plenty of time to change that- Just make sure the foals don't peek."

The skull's expression hadn't changed, but the shit-eating aura was palpable. It was like she said- They'd be here for a bit.

"Nope. Red-Eyes's forces launched a raid - scattered the tribe to the four winds," he simply replied. "We're taking the little ones to a safe pre-determined meeting spot a bit to the north, and wait for everyone else to regroup."

Click to shrink...

Thankfully, the ghoul seemed content to let mention of Red Eye pass without comment- Or maybe it just didn't register. "North..?" He snorted.

Their talk of the meeting spot though.. "Good luck with that! Every pony this end of the wastes is making a break for the same direction- And even if that weren't a raider's smorgasbord, I'd eat my hat if the movers and shakers weren't trying to get their hooves in this crystal pie too."

Bitterbriar sidled closer to the fire in wheezing laughter, ever the optimist. "Now, somebody be a pal and turn the Sweetie Belle up, would you?"