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The most menacing villain in the entire Fallout Franchise Edition

Fallout Equestria, a story that bleeds two franchises together to build something magical. On one side, you have death, destruction, decay, and misery - on the other, you have ponies. Doesn't sound like it should mix? You'd be surprised. When the world around you is wasteland, all you're left with is hope, and as we all know, ponies can do spectacular things with just a little hope.
Previous thread: >>37749529

Read Fallout Equestria by Kkat to appreciate the setting that many writers have then lent upon after being so captivated by the wonders.

The original story which spawned its own fandom can be found here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/119190/

These next four stories comprise the rest of what is considered "the big 5", alongside the original. They were biggest hitters early in the fandom, be it for having started before many others, their length, or overall quality.

Project Horizons:

Pink Eyes:

Murky Number Seven:


Though, a reminder; just because these are the most well known, that isn't to say that there aren't other stories out there! There are many hidden gems that simply don't get the love they deserve purely because people don't give them the chance. Why not open your heart and try to find a new favorite? Anons are absolutely welcomed and encouraged to return with fic discussion of even the most obscure fics!

Fan games:

Fallout Equestria: Remains is a Fallout Equestria Rouge like. It is the best thing to come of the fandom recently. Seriously go play it https://foe-remains.gitlab.io/main_en.html

Balefire Blues is a Hearts of Iron IV mod. In it you take control over various FoE factions seeking to conquer the wasteland. steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2307988796

Ashes Town is a derivative of Pony Town in the Fallout Equestria universe.
Who is that colt in the image?
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Thanks for showing this cat the best hey-hey he's ever-ever! Talk about platinum in the sack, toots! Where'd you learn that 18 karat trick with the heels of your hooves? You didn't just make my hooves curl - they popped off and rolled under the bed!

I wish I could stay for another round, but this gent's got places to be, things to do. You showing up has forced my hoof, baby! The time to act is now!

I won't be around for a while, but if everything works out right, you and me are a date, got it? Wouldn't miss it for all the caps in Pegasus.

Now don't get clingy and try to follow me.

Would Benny's mark be Casino related? He was a tribal before he got promoted by House.
No it wouldn't. Most likely it'd be a knife since he killed his chief with one to become the leader of his tribe.
You think all the families would cover up their marks in shame of being former tribal
White Gloves would definitely hide their cannibal related CMs. Since they're stupid rich and fancy, I bet they got pants for all their members, the snobs.
Especially the White Gloves. Special mention to Philippe, who's pony equivalent would have a cannibalism related cutie mark.
Thinking a little further the Omertas probably wouldn't.
So WGs would hide their marks as much as they can, Chairmen would kinda be in between, and Omertas proudly displays them? Yeah, I can get behind that?
A knife fits, although there must be a better way to fit his life of cutthroat, charismatic intrigue. Although it feels generic. it needs something else to make it stand out.
Would Ceaser have a book or something as he was a follower of the apocolype.
Then he would need a convoluted story why it's a good mark for the son of mars (or pony equivalent)
Or he pulls a Starlight Glimmer and paints over it
If FoE followed the show's rule of "you can't get an inherently bad cutie mark", what marks do you think its various villains and raiders would have?
A bloody knife then? He did stab his chief in the throat. Apparently, he's really good at knife fights. There isn't a whole lot we know about Benny's past life, so there isn't much we can imply his personality more than that.
Guns, knives, bats. Being really good with certain weapons isn't inherently bad after all.
The Courier would be The Fool card.

Graham's would definitely be a book, Ceasar was especially skilled languages, so his most likely be a Rosetta Stone or something similar to that.

Cook-cook's would be a stew pot, Motor Runner's would be an engine, Nephi's would a golf club hitting something into the distance, Violet's would be something animal related.
Lanius' would be a stylized mask.

Most raiders would either have >>37826232 or medicines of some sort or another, quite a few can manufacture a drug or two.
The Courier is Blackjack
A knife with a bleeding tip sounds fitting. It could also symbolize his "backstabbery" life
Then again how you would you ever side with a pony that has a bleeding knife as their cutie mark
Would the big MT brains have monitors displaying their cutie marks?
Courier is a lot more successful than Blackjack, also wrong type of cards.
I didnt see the courier going to the moon to fight the former president
And watching everyone they ever cared about die around them.
No, they would probably disregard the concept of cutie marks completely, seeing how the OWB ones shun the concept of having a vulnerable, physical body.
They WOULD have a snout monitor though. Boop the monitor.
But why do they have eyes and mouths on monitors?
Mi amore cazador
I don't know, I never looked into that. But their designs make them very unique and memorable so it was a good decision to go for.
It was probably to display emotions, but they'd probably say it was for SCIENCE!
>be traveling wasteland merchant
>just finished a trading run at the next town over
>managed a little bit of profit
>trod down the usual path back to own town
>Linda— your trusty brahmin companion— pulls your mostly empty wagon beside you
>your family bought her when she was just a little calf
>you've kept each other alive since ma and pa died
>be thirsty
>take a swig from water canteen
>it's a little on the low side
>some distance ahead and a little ways off the road lies a small lake fed by a creek
>sometimes used by merchants when they feel cheap and don't want to buy water
>including you
>also ocasionally visited by the odd wasteland critter
>nothing a few slugs from the 12 gauge can't deal with
>head towards the lake
>vegetation grows thicker as you approach
>mostly just short grass
>bushes and small trees grow near the small lake, surrounding it
>with the sky covered in clouds all the time it's a surprise anything grows at all
>park Linda nearby
>one of her heads moos softly but she stays put
>peek over bushes and scan for any sign of trouble
>spot a figure partially submerged inside the lake ,close to shore, head barely above the surface
>it rises up
>traditional pony shape
>except for the wings
>two of them
>the creature splashes about and flaps its wings
>reminds you of a bird taking a shower
>never seen a pegasus personally but heard about them in stories from the many ponies you've dealt with
>not very flattering stories
>some of them involve slaughtering defenseless foals
>stretch forward to get a better look
>blond mane and tail
>soft-pink coat
>distinctly female body
>you heard that they kidnap ponies and take them to their hideout in the skies for horrible experiments
>tilt forward more
>spot a black hunk of something off to the side but close to the pegasus
>the thing was quickly forgotten in favor of the transfixing sight
>the pegasus continues to splash and flap about
>ocasionally dunks her head underwater and lets her mane fall over her face and neck, oblivious of your presence
>lose balance and begin to tip forward
>crash forward into bushes with loud rustling of leaves and snapping of branches
Getting "killed" once (from a pistol that does less damage on two crits than the minimum health you can have) does not qualify one to be Blackjack.
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Careful, untamed pegapets will give chase if you straight up bolt and gallop away!
Stop her! She has my booze!
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Threadly reminder that bi Pip is best Pip
page 10
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What a pretty horse
What would Boone's cutie mark look like?
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she misheard the word wasteland for 'wastedland'
pregnant mare recoiling from headshot
The beret, or a snipe (the bird).
Fair but The Fool is definitely Blackjacks tarot card
Deadpip is best pip
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Reminder, the very best mare in the entirety of the wasteland will always be Lacunae.
Maybe crosshairs?
What would the pony equivalent of Graham be like considering there's no real concept of "mormonism" in FoE?
Whatever religion crystal ponies have.
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Pronounce her name then
That whiny bitch isn't fit to carry her name.
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I'm so fucking mad
really nigga
She is so tiny. Would she even come up past a human's waist?
Fuck you, Trixie.
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A soulful /d/ for a soulful green, thanks anon
I thought she was her

I pronounce it like this because of an audiobook reading of the story
Psalm is a stupid whiny "pacifistic" bitch, Lacunae is the only good horse.
This reminds of MGR:R and I can't put my finger on why.
>fight the former president
>Blackjack and co. vs Armstrong
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>That writing on the helmet
Nice job, you got tunnel vision when you saw the opportunity: rookie mistake.

She's vulnerable, that black hulk near the shore is probably her armor, but those Enclave demons don't travel alone, she's probably got friends in eyeshot (that you didn't look for by the way).

Stand up and start bullshitting, buy yourself a few moments to actually scan your surroundings for threats. You're a trader? So introduce yourself like you would any other new customer you randomly bump into in the Wasteland.

See if you can haggle her into giving you her sidearm, those arcane energy guns they carry are fucking awesome, and evil, in a great way. You'll really love one of those over whatever piece of shit piece you're probably carrying now.
I love some good /d/. Yes, the wording is intentional.
Lacuna Matata, and to her left, Swan.
I don't get it.
Memes. The DNA of the soul.
shitty reference to shitty game
Do you mean that in the "it's not real Metal Gear" sense or the "Reeeee Kojima" sense? I need to know exactly how to mock you.
It's dumb and silly, but not shitty.
Not sure were to actually take this. Let's see where it goes.
>DNA of the soul.
Is that why I can't help shoving them into everything?
I thought it was just the autism.
Gameplay was shit, story was trash, fanbase is all autistic, but the soundtrack is good.
It's just Undertale for 30 year olds
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>It's just Undertale for 30 year olds
I guess you are right. It certainly sounds familiar what you described.
Reminder that raiders only deserve love if they're capable of rational thought.
Reminder that Cook-cook falls under that category. And it was originally planned for you to have the Fiends as an ally.
The conversation will go like this:
>"Hey, want foals or a bullet to the head?"
Cook-cook could have been great
That one looks like she could only be reformed through prolonged, intensive cuddling.
You're making me reply so I guess your bait worked
Any tips for writing long greens?
Fucking plan how you want it to end.

Also, I recommend you try to make it as short as possible. Long stories tend to loose the reader whenever there's too much padding or filler.
Make sure that if you add filler, that something important is happening in the background.

For instance, a group of friends go scavenging, and have a fight with some giant ants while in the meantime the villains are closing in on them, or something else is happening with an unrelated (but important) party.

This justifies the filler as being a distraction instead of a waste of time. (sometimes)
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well if they don't have the 'raiders disease', you should be fine
kek, fuckin' nice.
What's /foe/'s favorite track? And how do you hold your tears in when listening to Pinkie's message during her track?
Oh, for fuck's sake, Grissy, I step out for one minute and you go and get yourself surrounded and shot to hell AGAIN.

Ugh, well, nothing to do for it now. Good news, the minigun is either low on ammo or worried about collateral damage if he's not just spraying the building. How thick are the walls? We've got target bearings from the EFS, so maybe Little Mac can punch through and thin them out a bit, but stay mobile, because that's going to provoke a reaction. When we make our move, make sure everything's loaded and hit the jet, come out leaping, shotgun first then swap to the revolver. Target priority is the minigun, the griffins, then the rest. We beeline the mutie and taker her in close quarters, then clean up immediate threats and move to relieve Kage.
Hot damn how have I never heard this?
I'm writing a green about a dashite and a raider mare braking out of captivity and trying to get revenge on their captor.

I'm not exactly happy with it, but I figure, fuck it.
Proofreading to the best of my ability, I'm tired.
>It's a regular day in the wasteland. A drizzle rains from the overcast skies as noon drags on.
>Within a small clump of buildings sits a camp serving Redeye's slavers. Armed guards patrol the catwalks and bridges connecting the rooftops. Several sentries stand in towers looking out for threats in the distance.
>Beneath them, cages of varying sizes, containing varying amounts of slaves, stand idly. Some are covered with tarps and elevated off the ground, others are slowly filling with mud and water as the rain drags on.
>The guards and slavers exchange a few words on the weather, some of the slaves speak in hushed whispers, others lay in silence, somber and scared.
>In a cage separated from the others and exposed to the elements, a bright brown mare lays in isolation. Her hide is dotted with scars, and her coat is mangy and spotted with blotches of muck and dried blood.
>As the water soaks her mane, she rests her chin on her hooves and stares at the ground, still trying to process her predicament.
>A distance away, in one of the cozier cages, elevated off the ground and protected from the rain, sits a blue Pegasus stallion, staring at the catatonic mare.
>He saw when she was dragged into camp by the slavers, how she kicked a tooth out of one of them, and how they debated killing her right then and there. They left her alone in the end. He heard one of the guards say "When she gets to Filly, she'll wish we'd killed her."
>He dreads what they meant. He knows nothing about Fillydelphia, but from how the guards refer to it, he figures it's one of the worst places in the wasteland. Being fresh from the clouds, he doubts he can survive it.
>Mud flows into the mare's cage, slowly caking her legs. She can't notice it. Her mind keeps replaying the same event over and over. The speed in which she was captured, the sight of her friends lying dead, the collar being locked around her neck.
>She's alone. A slave. A helpless victim. Her mind can't process it, her muscles still tense, waiting for a chance to fight back. A chance that hasn't presented itself since she was put in this cage.
>The Pegasus, desperate to distract himself from the fear of what's coming, tries to imagine what's going through her head. 'Maybe she's planning an escape, or maybe she's trying to get the collar wet so it stops working. Or maybe…' he looks closer. Despite the unkempt appearance, she's quite attractive. 'What if they hurt her?'
>He's Suddenly racked with pity, gritting his teeth, wishing he could somehow break out, if only just to comfort her.
>The mare isn't injured however. The stallions in the capture party were put off, courtesy of her lack of hygiene.
>She finds a tiny bit of a cohesion suddenly, but all it does is make her wish for a hit Dash or Steady, even booze or a cigarette would be a blessing from Celestia right now.
>A few more minutes of this pass before the guards start shouting.
>He lifts his head to see the lock shot off, and the grate hanging open. Flushed with hope, he quickly gets out.
>The adjacent cages have all been opened in a similar fashion. The slaves rush out, a few yelling something about deactivating detonators.
>He suddenly notices the discomfort of the collar around his neck and swallows hard.
>In the chaos, no one pays any attention to the mare lying there still inside her unlocked cage. No one except the blue dashite.
>He runs in and nudges her up. "C'mon, we have to go!"
>A shot rings behind. He whips his head around to see a slaver levitating a shotgun pointed at him. "Back in your cage, wingpony." With a glance at the mare, he flashes a wicked grin. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."
>The Pegasus squares his stance. "Fuck. Off."
>The unicorn slaver tsks, and the Pegasus jumps, anticipating a trigger pull that never arrives. Instead, he's wrapped in a telekinetic sheath and thrown against the back of the cage.
>Dazed, he can't react before the butt of the shotgun comes down on his head, hard. He cries out and covers his head with his legs, right before his ribs erupt in pain at the slaver's kick.
>The stock hits his shoulder, followed by a kick to his flank. "Should've stayed in your cage, slave!"
>Suddenly, the beating stops. The slaver lets out a cry as his hindleg breaks in half and he collapses. The brown mare lifts up the shotgun he dropped, and the wad mixes his head with the mud.
>Acting on instinct, she slings the shotgun on her back and frantically loots the corpse, only sparing a glimpse at the blue pony. "Get up, bitch!"
>The dashite shakes his head hard, attempting to snap himself out of shock as he gets back to his hooves.
>She takes what she can from the corpse, but it'll be a hassle carrying without pockets. She looks back at the guy she just called a bitch. "We gotta find some clothes, bags, guns-"
>She notices his wings as he spreads them to shake the mud off. "Do those work?"
>The stallion blinks.
>"You can fly?"
>"Uh, yeah." He checks his wings.
>She smiles. "Well, since I just saved your life, you're going to carry me out of here."
>He furrows his brow, glances at the dead buck, then nods.
>"Good!" She looks both ways. "Let's go!"
>He follows her as she darts up the narrow passage and up a staircase to a guard tower, a square room lined with windows on all sides.
>Right before they can reach the top, a griffon slams into the windows.
>The mare cackles, glancing over her shoulder. "Did you see that?"
>He grins. "Yeah."
>They break into the room, the griffon lies on the ground, broken glass all around him. There's a visible trail of blood. He looks up at them as they enter.
>The mare stops only a few steps in, swapping a glance with the Pegasus. "He's still alive!" She laughs.
>"Those are slaver colors he's wearing."
>The griffon grimaces. "Hey, you want to get those collars off, right?"
>Ignoring him, she trots over to a radio style transmitter. "Come take a look at this."
>The Pegasus quickly recognizes the device. "It's a radial signal emitter." Taking a closer look, he notes: "A really old one, too."
>"Can you shut it off?"
>He scoffs. "pft, no. That'll just detonate the collars."
>The griffon chuckles. "Smart one, ain'tcha?"
>"Well, figure it out!" The mare snaps. "And hurry up before those assholes get here!"
>The griffon grunts. "I can help."
>"Of course you can." She quips. "Shut the fuck up and bleed out faster, okay?"
>He rolls his eyes. "I know the deactivation frequency. All I need in return is a potion."
>The Pegasus turns away from the device. "I couldn't guess the right frequency, and tampering with this could cause everyone's collars to blow."
>She grunts. "FINE. Where are we supposed to get a healing potion for beakface over here?"
>The griffon frowns. "There's a first aid kit on that wall!" He points behind her.
>He slides a key across the littered floor. "Use this to open it."
>She does, pulling out a potion and bouncing it on her hooves. "Alright, give us the frequency and you get the potion."
>"No go, first the potion then the frequency."
>She kicks it over her head, the bottle arching over her. "You're not really in-" She kicks it up again with her hindleg. "-a condition to be placing terms."
>The stallion follows the bottle as she nimbly juggles it.
>He slams a fist on the ground. "Neither are you!" His voice comes out hoarse.
>"She's right. Your leg is shot through and your wing is broken. You'll bleed out in ten minutes with or without the potion."
>He sighs.
*tink* *tink* *tink* *tink*
>'Wow she's dexterous.'
>The griffon groans. "Will you at least cut that shit out?"
>She stops, and their eyes widen before she flattens down, stopping the bottle an instant before it hits the ground.
>They sigh in relief.
>'She's flexible too.'
>"Time's running out asshole, give us the frequency!"
>He looks at the ground for a moment.
>Outside, the sounds of thunder intermix with gunfire.
>Finally, he sighs. "It's twelve-forty hertz. Make sure you turn it off after."
>The stallion quickly gets to work.
>"Thanks, pigeon." The mare leaves the potion on the ground.
>"Hey, what about our deal?"
>She takes a long look at him. The glare in his eyes is more desperate than angry, and his features are unfamiliar to her.
>The collars on their necks beep twice.
>The dashite sighs. "Well, it worked."
>He walks over to her. "Let me take this off of you."
>She leans away at first, making him raise a brow, but then lets him. He finds the latch, and the collar falls off.
>"Can you get mine?"
>She fumbles with it for a bit, but manages to release it.
>"Hey!" The griffon grunts. "I helped you, now help me!"
>"You heard him, you'll bleed out anyway. Better we keep the potion, make it quicker." She spots a locker right behind the griffon. 'Crap, I can't get past him, and that locker probably has something good in it!'
>"I can patch you up, but it won't be pretty."
>She looks at the buck. "You can't be serious. Why would we help this scumbag?"
>"Because he helped us, and he didn't do anything to me."
>She rolls her eyes. "Alright, I'll stand guard. Just make it quick!"
>He quickly rushes over to him. "I'm gonna have to clamp that artery."
>"Oh, for fuck's sake. Just give me the fucking potion, I'll be fine!"
>The stallion tries the locker. It won't budge, so he bucks it. The door bends as the lock pops inside it.
>He pulls it open to find a sniper rifle and some ammo. "Great." He hooves his face. "I don't know what I was expecting."
>The griffon groans.
>"Shut up already!" He snaps. "Where's the infirmary?"
>The mare snaps to look at them. "Are you fucking serious?! Why would we go this far out of our way to help this guy? He's a scumbag!"
>The griffon scowls. "Hey!"
>She glares at him. "Fuck you, I'm right!"
>He rolls his eyes, waving her off with an arm. "The infirmary is the green tent, middle of the compound. You can't miss it."
>The Pegasus nods, grabs the rifle and ammo from the locker, and dives out of the space the griffon left in the glass.
>The mare stands there shocked for a moment. "Oh, that dumb son of a-"
>He keeps his head low as he gallops for the tent, several times leaping over another slave or flattening down to avoid gunfire. He doesn't know who's shooting or at what, and he doesn’t care.
>Finally, he gets through the flaps of the tent.
>A white unicorn mare is hiding under a bunk. She recedes further under it at the sight of him.
>He lays down to look at her. "Hey, are you the nurse here?"
>She offers an apprehensive nod.
>"I need a hemostat. A wingbrace would also be nice if you got one."
>She crawls out halfway. "Are you a medic?"
>She gets up and walks over to a tray, quickly sanitizing the tool. She opens a cabinet and retrieves a large, firm brace. "I only got griffon braces. I hope this helps."
>He takes the tools, the brace under his wing and the clamp in his mouth. "Thanksh."
>With that, he rushes back out again, repeating what he did before.
>Coming up to a corner he bumps into a slaver. She falls to her haunches, and just as she looks up, her face is slammed by both his hooves.
>He looks at her lying in the mud, her muzzle dripping blood. His limbs go stiff for a moment. 'What did I just do?'
>He finally gets to the tower, flying back in through the hole.
>The mare scowls at him. "What the fuck took you so long? Do you realize how annoying he is?"
>The griffon looks too. "I'll accept death at this point, just let me be free of her."
>He shakes his head. "I didn't go all the way and back to let you die."
>About to start the procedure, he pauses suddenly. "This is not part of the deal, though."
>"The deal was: the frequency for the potion. Saving your life is an extra."
>He grunts. "Alright, what is it you want?"
>They lock eyes. "Just don't make me regret this."
>With that, the stallion gets to work. Five minutes, lots of grunting and one potion later, the griffon is bleeding significantly less, and his wing is straightened out again.
>"There, that should keep you until your friends haul you to the nurse."
>He blinks. "You mean, they're still alive?"
>"Some of them."
>The mare stomps towards them. "Who. Fucking. Cares! Did you forget these guys want to kill us?!"
>He recoils. 'Fuck, I did forget.'
>"Ugh, get to the barracks. You should be able to disguise yourselves, so they don't notice you. Most of them will be out chasing the slaves now anyway."
>She cocks a brow. "How do you know?"
>"Not the first time this happens. Enslave the wrong pony, their friends hire some mercs to bust them out." He sighs. "They're getting better at this too."
>The ponies exchange a look. "But they busted out the whole camp!"
>"And that way we don't know who it was. It makes sense when you think about it; although that's not your strong suit, is it girl?"
>The floorboard cracks with her stomp. "FUCK you."
>"Stick it." He glances outside. "And fuck off already, before they come here and find you two."
>They exchange one last look before diving out the broken window.
>The slaver facepalms, murmuring to himself. "The door is right there, you fucking idiots."

>The camp was desolate, the barracks empty save for the corpses of a few of the slavers whom the slaves managed to savagely beat to death, and quite a few corpses of slaves who died trying just that.
>They found more a pair of old saddlebags, sniper ammo, shotgun shells, and a few medical supplies that would keep them going for a bit.
>The mare put on an armored set of clothes from one of the lockers.
>Sadly, the buck couldn't find anything that would accommodate his wings.

>The mare looks over one of the lockers. "I wish they had food or water."
>"Don't worry about it, we can filter the rain and drink that."
>She looks at him for a moment as he goes about picking through the pockets of one of the ex-slavers.
>He retrieves a rolled-up string, some empty 12g hulls and a single 10mm round.
>"We don't even have a gun that shoots that, and those are empty."
>"I know, but they can be reloaded with powder from bullets like this."
>She rolls her eyes. "Don't take too much garbage, you still need to be able to carry me, remember?"
>He nods. "That should be it."
>"Great." She loads a couple extra shells. "Let's leave."

>Two slavers remain on the wall, watching for any of the slaves.
>They notice the two run out the gate.
>"Since when do we have a pegasus?"
>"We don't."
>They bear their rifles and open fire, the shots going wide from poor maintenance.
>The Pegasus gasps as he realizes the bullets are directed at HIM. He suddenly feels the weight of a pony on his back.
>Her forelegs wrap tightly around his neck. "Take off!"
>In a panic, his wings shoot open, and soon they gain altitude.
>He flies around a building, using it for cover. Once he feels it's safe, he ascends further toward the clouds.
>Finally, he regains some clarity as the borders of his vision return to focus.

>She woops, the air carrying away her pain and the thrill distracting her from the loss. "Yeah, take that Redeye! You can't have THIS mare!" she laughs.
>He's flushed with relief hearing her so cheery, and laughs a little himself.
>"Did I say you can laugh?"
>He feels a pang of frustration. "I'm not asking your permission. Did I say you can boss me around?"
>The mare frowns. "I'm not asking your permission!"
>He chuckles. "Well, you better be."
>"Oh yeah? Why?"
>"Why?!" He looks at her over his shoulder. "Because if you keep pissing me off, I'll just put you down on that roof over there and leave!"
>She scoffs. "Sure, go ahead, dumbass. You won't last a day out here without me!"
>"Alright then, I can just drop you from up here and fuck us BOTH over."
>She gasps. "Don’t. You. Dare."
>He clenches his teeth. "Then cut it out."
>She recoils and stays silent for a long moment. "Oh, when we land, you're gonna get it."
>He outwardly retains his composure.
>She looks at the view, Fillydelphia slowly fading away in the horizon. Taking a deep breath, she smiles as an overwhelming feeling of freedom washes over her. Up here, she's safe. Up here all her troubles melt away. Up here…
>After a few minutes of flying, he decides to have some fun. Tilting one wing up, he causes a stall, making them jerk suddenly.
>The mare starts, quickly warping her forelegs around his neck and holding tightly.
>He smirks at the sensation of her body pressing against his back. "Woah, there's a bit of turbulence. You okay?"
>She blinks as her grip loosens a bit. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
>"No, it happens. Sometimes the wind gets in the way of your wing-" He does it again, causing her to tighten her grip once more.
>He dips one side and starts spiraling down. "I'll bring us a little lower down, I think I see somewhere we can land."
>She furrows her brow. "What? Why would we land? Keep flying!"
>He could, his training made sure of it. "Alright, but where to? What do you want to do?"
>She doesn’t care. As long as she's in the air, she's fine. "Your call. Just keep flying."
>"What do you mean MY call? YOU'RE the one with the knowledge and experience. Besides, they can see us from down there, if there are any more griffon slavers, we're screwed!"
>She puffs, dreading the moment they land and her brain begins torturing her again. "Fine. I just…"
>The stallion smirks. "You like flying, don't you?"
>"Yeah! This is awesome!"
>He laughs, ecstatic to have something she wants.
>"What's so funny?"
>"Nothing, I love flying too."
>A surge of hope and relief shoots through her. "So, you can bring me up here whenever I want, right?"
>"Sure, if the weather's right and it's safe enough."
>She sighs, wondering how often that might be.
>They quickly descend onto the ruins below, visibly abandoned. He lands at the top of a tall building. "Here we go. No one should be able to get up here without wings."
>She climbs off his back and immediately kicks him in the shoulder. "Don't you ever threaten me like that again!"
>"What the fuck? You wanna try that again?"
>She looks around the roof. "Nah, you got yours." She turns to him. "We need to find some food and a dry place to sleep."
>Suppressing his anger, he sighs. "Well, we can try this building."
>He balks. "Why not?"
>"If you shut up for a second, you'll hear it too."
>"Hear what?"
>She gives him a look.
>A long, quiet moment passes. They hear something crumble in the wind.
>"I don’t get it."
>She sighs. "This husk of a building is falling apart, idiot. We'll get buried alive."
>He scoffs. "C'mon, don't be so paranoid."
>"Oh, I'm being paranoid?"
>"YES, you're being paranoid. I'm sure the building can hold while we-"
>She starts walking toward the roof access door.
>"What are you doing?"
>She turns around, looking him in the eyes as she bucks the wall near the door.
>A moment later, the roof above it caves in, followed by the opposite wall. The door falls forward, causing a long crack in the roof to appear. It stretches all the way to where the stallion stands, ending right under his belly.
>He swallows, his legs tensing up as he realizes how brittle it really is.
>"A few more kicks and we can block off the entire intersection down there."
>He puffs. "Okay, you made your point. Get on my back, let's find somewhere safer."
>With a satisfied smirk she takes a step towards him, then suddenly stops.
>A mischievous grin settles on her muzzle.
>"What are you doing?"
>She hops.
>She hops again, her grin growing wider.
>The ground beneath them protests, cracks growing wider and the sound of metal groaning beneath.
>"There could be other ponies down there!"
>She hops again, having closed half the distance by now.
>There's a jolt as the whole roof bends like a trampoline.
>He trots towards her, hoping to make her stop if he just closes the distance.
>The roof jolts again, bending even more this time.
>"Alright, enough! Get on my back, let's go."
>She giggles and sets herself, then leaps spectacularly high. "Wee!"
>She tucks into a backflip and lands on all four hooves directly on the largest crack.
>The metal groans as the concrete gives away.
>He leaps towards her. "Get on my back!"
>She does.
>He spreads his wings and takes off, expecting the building to start collapsing.
>She licks her lips. "Wait for it."
>He circles the building, looking from her face to the crumbling husk below.
>"Waaaait for it."
>He gulps.
>The roof lets out a loud popping sound as a large part of it collapses on one side, followed by the groaning of metal as the other side follows.
>The top floor follows suit, dumping glass and rubble all over the street below.
>She laughs. "Yeah!"
>"No! What if there are ponies-"
>"Fuck 'em, they should've gone somewhere else! Enjoy the show and stop worrying."
>Another floor collapses, clouds of dust roll to the streets below.
>She laughs harder.
>"You can't be serious! Why would you do this?"
>She keeps laughing. "I could never do this without wings. I'm just taking full advantage of what I got!"
>"To ruin this place even further?!"
>She tsks. "Shut up already!"
>There's a tremendous roar of bending steel as the supporting structure finally gives completely, the entire building bends over for a split second before cascading in on itself, first one side, then the other.
>The resulting dust engulfs the entire area in a thick grey cloud, making it impossible to see below.
>The stallion stares in shock, mouth agape.
>She cackles. "Wasn't that awesome?"
>He doesn't respond.
>'Anyone who was down there…'
>She nudges his neck with her nose. "Helloooo?"
>'Buried alive… suffocating…'
>She puffs and squeezes his neck. "Stop circling around here, you're making me dizzy."
>'How could she…'
>"I think I'm gonna be sick."
>'I can't believe I let her do that…'
>"Dude, please!" She jerks his neck a bit. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, just please stop flying in circles!"
>'Maybe I could still help them?"
>She dry heaves. "You son of a bitch, I said I'm sorry!"
>'If I dive down there, I'll suffocate. It's hopeless.'
>"What's wrong with you?"
>'They're all-'
>Desperate to make him stop, she puts a hindleg on his wing and pushes, forcing him to divert.
>He snaps out of his shock to find himself spiraling.
>"Finally, fuck!"
>It takes him some effort, but he manages to regain control, flying away from the camp again. "All those people."
>"Everyone who was down there."
>"Who the fuck are you talking about?"
>He shakes his head. "There were ponies down there, there must've been! How could you do that?"
>She grunts. "Do what?"
>"Collapse a building!"
>She snorts. "Easy, I just jumped a few times."
>"Did you even stop to consider who might be down there? There might've been foals!"
>She grunts and hisses. "Don't start with the sympathy bullshit, I don't care."
>He scowls. "Oh, so that's how it is."
>She frowns. "Yeah, you gonna cry about it?"
>'Of course she doesn't have any remorse for her actions, she's a filthy mud trotter!'
>He puffs, exacerbated. "I won't let you use me to do reckless shit like this. Where do I drop you off?"
>"You heard me. I'm not flying with you, so where do you want me to put you down?"
>"You want to get rid of me, huh?"
>"YES. Hopefully BEFORE you make me blow up a munitions factory for laughs."
>She chuckles. "That's actually not a bad idea."
>"Like I thought-"
>"Think about it. Destroy the factory, a lot less ammo for all the jackasses to use, ponies actually have to think twice before shooting each other because bullets are more rare. It's a great idea!"
>He pauses. 'She's making sense. RATIONAL sense.'
>"Did you break again?"
>He shakes his head. "I just wasn't expecting that."
>She furrows her brow, looking side to side. "Expecting what?"
>"For you to sound even remotely smart."
>She recoils a bit. "You think I'm dumb?"
>"I thought so, yes. But now I realize you're not, which makes what you did even worse!"
>"What?! Get over it! People die all the time out here."
>"Yeah, but usually it's not MY fault!"
>"Ugh, so we kicked over a several-ton house of cards. What, you think it would've held against the rain for another week? Buildings come crashing down every day!"
>He sighs.
>"If you're living in the shadow of one of those, you're asking to get buried under it."
>He shakes his head. "Doesn't justify speeding up the process."
>She tsks. 'I'm done consoling this guy, what a wimp.'
>"So where do I drop you off?"
>Awash with dread, she stutters. "W- where, I- I…"
>He looks over his shoulder. "Well?"
>"I dunno, keep flying for a bit, I'll tell ya."
>He notices the apprehension in her eyes, and his compassion for her returns.
>He does his best to bury it. 'She collapsed a building! There could've been foals, hell, entire families down there!'
>He suddenly feels something on his head.
>She rests her chin on his mane. "Is it okay if I rest a bit? I didn't really get any sleep last night."
>'Aww, she's… pulling a dirty trick.'
>"No, I need you awake so you can tell me where you want to land."
>She exhales into his neck. "I don't want to land." She mutters.
>He sighs. 'Fuck me, it's working.'
>"Will you stop doing that?"
>She nuzzles behind his ear, responding with a soft whisper: "Doing what?"
>He hisses. "Just get your muzzle off me, please."
>She pulls away, and he instantly feels the cold air force itself between them.
>A long moment of tense silence passes.
>She chews her lip, terrified of being left grounded, and completely alone.
>She looks around at the unfamiliar landscape. The tops of a few more crumbling buildings peek over the barren hills in the distance.
>She looks behind her.
>The blood red silhouette of Fillydelphia couldn't be far enough.
>"Well, have you decided?"
>She feels a knot tie in her throat.
>He sighs. "If you don't decide, I'll just set you down her-"
>He feels the barrel of her shotgun against the back of his head.
>"I told you not to threaten me, right?"
>He prepares to tilt his wings to drop her, but she locks her legs around him. "Any sudden move, and I pull the trigger."
>He scoffs. "How, with your ribs? You can't even reach the mouthpiece!"
>'Crap, he's right.'
>"Shut up and fly before I find a way and do it."
>He deflates, maintaining his course. The feeling of her body against his back now gone from a guilty pleasure to a dreadful weight.
>They've been flying for a couple hours. The rain died down and the sun is slowly setting on the horizon.
>She rests her cheek on his mane, looking at the shadows of a distant cluster of tall buildings.
>The orange light peeks from between the distant hills, bathing the wasteland below. Puddles of water, small ponds, and a few surviving windows on the distant skyscrapers gleam brightly.
>She fixates on the occasional glint, watching the sight with sore eyes.
>Her mind is relaxed for now, but every so often the events of the previous night try to force their way in.
>Awaking suddenly to gunfire.
>Seeing her friends, the ponies she grew up with, dead on the ground.
>The callous laughter of the slavers as they pinned her down and locked a collar around her neck.
>The grinning beak of their leader.
>She closes her eyes to take a deep breath, listening to the wind, feeling the steady heartbeat of the stallion beneath her.
>She hears him yawn. "I think I see a safe spot to take a break for the night. I'm bringing us down, okay?"
>Her head shoots up. "No!"
>"Look, I'm tired. If we keep going like this, I'm going to crash and then we'll both be dead anyway. You might as well shoot me now and be done with it."
>She pauses for a long moment, then sighs heavily.
>"We'll keep going tomorrow, alright?"
>Her mind already starts flashing images of the previous night.
>She holds his neck a little tighter.
>He dares a look over his shoulder at her. "I'm not leaving you, okay? I just need a break."
>She frowns. "You fucking bet you're not leaving me."
>He gulps. 'What kind of crazy bitch did I pair up with?'
>He keeps course, making her raise a brow. "Didn't you say we were landing?"
>"Yeah, in a little bit. We're still kinda far."
>She tightens her grip on him again, and he gulps.

>As the sun disappears beyond the hills and darkness engulfs the wasteland, the flap of his wings kicks up a circle of dust in front of an ancient suburban house.
>With the mare still on his back, he approaches the door.
>He puffs, and whispers: "Are you gonna get off of me?"
>He readies his sniper rifle and slowly makes entry, sweeping the living room, then the kitchen.
>Her muzzle presses into his neck.
>"Will you at LEAST help me sweep the house?"
>She looks from him to the rest of her surroundings before letting out an exhale. "Fine."
>She trains the shotgun on the back of his head. "Go on, I'll watch your back."
>He balks at her, shakes his head and tsks before getting back to business.
>They sweep the remainder of the downstair area, and cautiously make their way up the stairs.
>Enclave training serves him well, and he gets to the top without any discernable noise.
>She follows, just as deft with her hooves as the Pegasus in front of her.
>Walking into the corridor, he's met with a doorway to a foal's bedroom, thankfully devoid of the previous occupant.
>Next, they enter the master bedroom, and the attached bathroom.
>"Well, I think this place is clear."
>She releases the mouthgrip and tsks. "You're missing the basement, the attic. But that's okay, we can just barricade the basement door and place a few empty cans under the attic hatch to alert us."
>He shakes his head. "Let's just clear the rest of it, I don't want any surprises. I feel endangered enough just being around you."
>She feels an unfamiliar warmth on her cheeks and smiles around the shotgun's grip.
>'Great, she's flattered that I'm threatened by her.'
>They check the attic first, finding nothing but dust.
>The basement holds more of the above, but is better lit.
>He puffs as they close the door behind them, standing in the living room. "Alright, so, should we barricade the front door?"
>"Yeah. Move that couch over there."
>With the door barricaded, they make their way upstairs again.
>"So… should we share the bed, or…?"
>"Oh, I'm sleeping on the bed, alright. If you don't wanna share, you're welcome to sleep on the floor."
>He shrugs. "I don't mind sharing."
>"Great. I'm gonna go take a bath."
>He blinks.
>She cocks a brow. "What? You think just because I smell like shit, that I never shower?"
>He scratches the back of his head. "I- I was under the impression you mud tr- I- I mean-"
>"Yeah, okay." She walks around to his side.
>"W- what are you-"
>She yanks the sheets and wraps them around his rifle's sling, then around his neck. With a strong pull, she brings him closer to the bedpost.
>He pulls away but he's stopped by the weight of the bed. "You tied me to the fucking bed?!"
>"What, you thought I was just gonna leave you alone?" She raises his chin with a hoof. "You're not going anywhere."
>With a triumphant smirk, she trots into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
>The Pegasus gives a frustrated, tired sigh as he inspects his bindings.
>The sheet fastened around his neck and bound to the strap of his rifle in a way in which neither can be released.
>He tries releasing the strap from his rifle, but there's no mechanism to allow it, and the strap itself is more durable than he can chew through.
>He tries to undo the knot around the bedpost, but it's far too tight and all he ends up doing is chewing the sheet, slobbering it.
>He lets out a defeated grunt and hangs his head, sitting on his haunches.

>The water is hardly warm as she steps into it. She starts with her mane, then her tail. After that, she works to scrub every speck of muck out of her coat, from head to hoof.
>The water stops, and lets out a satisfied sigh before shaking herself dry.
>She opens the door to see the Pegasus hasn't moved.
>"Ha! Looks like I can still tie a mean knot."
"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in why don't you. You gonna let me loose or what?"
>She pouts, looks thoughtfully at the celling for a moment, then takes a breath. "Or what."
>He deflates. "C'mon, what have I gotta do to get out of this?"
>She shakes her head. "I dunno!"
>He slumps even further. "You want me to beg?"
>"Ooh! That'd be kinda funny. But no, you'll make it awkward."
>He frowns. "Then what do you WANT?"
>She sits on her haunches and rests a hoof on her chin. "Hmm… well, flying is pretty fun."
>"I already said I'll take you flying whenever it doesn't pose a threat to us!"
>She gives him a doubtful glance. "Okay. What else…"
>"Hurry, please! I don't want to fly tomorrow with a stiff neck!"
>She frowns. "Keep yelling at me and you won't fly at all anymore, ever."
>His mouth goes dry and he slumps on the ground.
>"Hey! Get up, you lazy fuck!"
>He buries his head in his hooves, exasperated.
>"Can you hear me?"
>His voice comes through muffled. "Just fucking shoot me and be done with it, please."
>"What?!" She looks at the shotgun at her side. "It's only got like four shells left! What makes you think I'll waste one on you?"
>He peeks up at her.
>"If I wanted you dead, I'd get a knife from the kitchen and slit your throat like a normal raider."
>His stomach drops. "Y- you're a raider?"
>She chuckles. "You're a slow one, aren't you? The scars, the cussing, I even shot a guy in front of you! Did none of that give it away?"
>He feels remarkably dumb. The same way he felt when his cutie marks were branded off.
>She laughs. "You should see your face!"
>He shakes his head hard. "Are you going to release me or not?"
>She taps her chin again. "Hmm, depends. What are you going to do if I release you?"
>He looks away. 'I'm going to run the fuck away or kick you out the window, whichever is more convenient.'
>He looks up at her.
>"Calm down, pussy. I'm not going to hurt you. Yet."
>He grits his teeth. "I going to take a shower, lay down, and go to sleep. I'm real fucking tired, and tomorrow we have to put more distance between us and the slavers. So please, release me?
>She looks him in the eyes for a long moment. "Hmm… I dunno. I'm unconvinced."
>He can't even draw his rifle. "Fine then. I give up, fuck off, do whatever you want, I don't care."
>With that he buries his head again, going between kicking himself to wallowing in self-pity.
>She looks at him for a long moment. "You're pathetic."
>"I know."
>"I thought you Enclave fucks were supposed to be resilient."
>He grunts. "Fuck you, you don’t know shit about the Enclave and you know even less about me."
>She raises a brow. "O- Okay. Um… you're just gonna stay there?"
>He's about to pop a blood vessel out of rage, but he doesn't respond.
>She sighs. "Fuck. This is lame."
>He stays quiet, feeling the knot in his throat and the tears welling in his eyes.
>"I thought you'd give me more of a challenge. I thought you'd be tough, and stubborn, and that you'd call me names and try to kill me a few times."
>He croaks out: "Well, you are a bitch, so there's one of your expectations met."
>She chuckles. "Oh I get it. They kicked you out for being weak."
>He laughs. "You missed the mark."
>"Pfft. Whatever you say, wimp."
>Her eyes land on his weapon. "I bet you can't even shoot that rifle. Maybe I should take it."
>He wipes his eyes, and rises to sit on his haunches. "You may try."
>"No, I'd need to untie you for that, and I didn't get what I want from you yet."
>He stomps hard enough to break the floorboard beneath him, opening a viewport to the kitchen below. "You didn't even tell me what it is!"
>She actually recoils at that. "Celestia's haunches," She grins. "Calm down! What's your problem?"
>"My problem is that I partnered up with you! I let you collapse a building on top of who-knows-how-many ponies, I let you threaten me, tie me to this fucking bed, and I even let you taunt me about it!"
>He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You're my problem, and it's all my fault. I should've just dropped you when I had the chance."
>She looks taken aback by that. "Y- you actually think you could've done something about it?"
>"Just let me go, please?"
>She cackles. "Oh, you're sleeping on the floor tonight."
>"Okay then, there's no way I'm flying anywhere tomorrow, let the slavers come find us. I'm sure Fillydelphia as plenty of room for ponies like you."
>"Pfft, you'll fly, trust me." She shakes her head and retrieves her clothes from the bathroom.
>He looks down, defeated.
>He sees the top of the fridge in the kitchen below, and an idea pops into his head.
>She unslings the shotgun, resting it on the bed along with the clothes before turning off the light. "Good night. Try not to cry too loud, okay?"
>He puffs. "G'night. I hope you don't snore, that would be the icing on the shit-cake you turned out to be."
>She laughs. "That's more like it. Keep it up, and I might actually let you eat tomorrow."
>'Eat?' His stomach grumbles as if on cue. 'Oh, crap, I haven't had food since yesterday!'
>He looks at her. Her coat gleams softly in what little moonlight shines through the window. The lines of a few scars are visible on her legs and along her side. Wounds healed through time.
>He cringes at the thought of bearing such injuries until they heal.
>He watches her chest rise and fall as her breaths become more rhythmic.

>She lays near the fire, her friends laughing about something they did earlier in the day as the night drags on.
>She looks at each of them, their features blurry.
>There's a shot, and one of her friends slumps.
>There's another, and another one falls over.
>She tries to move, but her legs are fixed in place.
>She suddenly feels water on her legs, rising to her shoulders.
>They surround her. Armed stallions with no faces, laughing callously at her.
>She's helpless.
>She's scared.
>They part to make way for a much larger member of their party.
>A griffon steps forth.
>His features are clear.
>The grey of his face and black of his wings.
>That grin.
>That horrible grin.
>The water rises to her chin.
>Tears well up in her eyes before she hears another shot.
>He stomps as hard as he can, sending a sizeable chunk of the floor into the kitchen below.
>She shoots up, but it's too late.
>Biting down on the blanket, he jumps down, landing his hindlegs on top of the fridge.
>"What the fuck are you doing?!"
>The jagged piece of the floor cuts into the blanket, and with a few hard yanks, it tears.
>He turns in the air to land on his hooves and jumps for the knife before diving out to the living room.
>Cutting the blanket free, he discards the rifle and flies up to the landing.
>She comes out of the corridor with the shotgun.
>He disarms her with a kick and pushes her back into the corridor, away from the weapon.
>She lands a couple of kicks that sting a little and actually manages to avoid most of his attempts to pin her down, but finally, she runs out of room to maneuver, and he succeeds.
>They lock eyes for a long moment. A surprised expression on her face and a relieved one on his.
>Finally, she breaks the silence. "That's… a step in the right direction. You were supposed to try and kill me, though."
>He shakes his head. "If I tried that-"
>She jerks under him but he keeps her down. "I'd have succeeded."
>She raises a brow. "Then why didn't you?"
>Her voice repeats in his head 'You won't survive a day out here without me!'
>He sighs heavily. "Because, as much as it hurts me to admit it, I need you, and you need me."
>She chuckles, raising a hoof to caress his cheek. "You got a crush on me, don't you?"
>He kicks her leg away, hissing through clenched teeth. "Fuck no! You're a manipulative, violent sack of shit, with no conscience. I'd sooner bite my own dick off than stick it in you."
>She looks at him shocked.
>'Cool, she bought it!'
>She laughs. "Yeah! This is WAY more like it!"
>He grunts. "From now on, if you want something you ASK for it. And we're sharing the bed- you better fucking stay on your side."
>She laughs again. "You're turning me on, a little."
>"Alright then, should I tie you to the bed so you don't try to rape me or is the promise of breaking your legs and leaving you-"
>She glares at him. "I told you not to threaten me."
>"I'm not threatening you, I'm warning you."
>"Same thing!"
>"Whatever! If I wake up, and you're on top of me, I'll make you regret it."
>She puffs. "Whatever."
>He smirks. "Good. Go catch some sleep, we have a long flight tomorrow. I'm going to take a shower." With that, he walks into the room.
>She shoots back to her hooves. "Ooh! I'll help you clean your wings!"
>He skips the gap he made. "Nope!"
>She follows him as he walks into the bathroom. "Oh c'mon-"
>The door slams behind him, leaving her outside.
>She tsks. 'I should've just jumped down to the kitchen, would've given him less time to react.'
That's all I got for now.
Hope it entertained at least one of you.
really good stuff anon, the characterization in this is particularly strong and I already want more of these characters! My favorite FoE stuff has always been these unlikely friendships springing up against the horrors of the wasteland and this hit the spot perfectly.

If I have one criticism about writing style, at some points it reads a little like a screenplay, using too many short sentences with simple verbs one after another - describes the action well, but try to give it more flow, and use action (on top of dialogue) to help give a sense of who the characters are. Looking forward to reading more!
it did, thanks for the green. I wonder how their characters will develop.
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Well, did you cry or not?
What if you fuck the rational thought right into them?
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>ywn get to join the Unity
>ywn get to mind meld with your alicorn sisters
Is nice
Why is she kissing Sprout?
Because Sprout is Red Eye.
No, no I didn't cry
I did feel sad I only got into FoE in 2018, feels like I'm digging through the rubble of a long-gone civilization. Par for the course of fallout.
Better late then never, anon. But I'm glad you're here with us.
I didn't cry either but I did feel emotional, simply because I remember reading the Pinkie Pie memory orb segment and hearing it in the track hit me in the feels. Faux Synder did a great job.

I recommend you give the rest of the album a listen, it's a good bop, and Seventh Element does good music. They're still active too.
Someday Anon, someday. Still working on the anon turning into a muticorn green. Just give me more time.
Mutiecorns are sexy and scary at the same time. Body horror mixed with alicorn anatomy is a weird combo. Imagine what incisive experience it would be to get absorbed into a hive mind while your body is encased in a mutagenic substance which breaks it down and rewrites you on a genetic level.
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>Fluttershy's track is the last of the mane six
>the sounds of bombs dropping in the background as the music dies down
>transition into the intermission that basically signifies the birth of the wasteland
Nice, but muties are dumb and stink
>the birth of the wasteland
Man i used to love the doomer part of the wasteland so much, and i tried to push it a lot. But then i realized how everyone only focuses on the rebuilding aspect of it so i just gave up and stopped.
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Littlepip SUCKS
That's Trixie's fault. She's a shit tactician and unfit to command a faction of mutated super horses. Twilight would have done a far better job if she were the dominant mind.
They're no less clean than any other wastelander pony out there. The regular scavenger or mercenary pony won't be cleaner than a mutiecorn. Dirt and dust are part of the course in this world.
You seem to love stinky, unwashed mutiecorn pussy to be white knighting them like that.
Are you saying you WOULDN'T fuck a mutiecorn?
No. Wash your horses before you fuck them. That's an unwritten rule for all wasteland ponies.
Welcome (or welcome back) to Bloody Talons! A CYOA about a buff young griffiness, former raider warlord, and all around killing machine who has realized how empty and pointless her life has been, and has left her life as a raider behind in order to find a real purpose in life.

We're the mysterious voices in the back of her head, so we're in this ride together with our heroic(?) protagonist, for better or worse. She is us and we are her, (try not to think about it too much, it makes our head hurt, just roll with it).

Our story exists in an AU where LittlePip got her brains blown out by the bridge on her first night out of the stable, and we looted her PipBuck off her.

We're at a Crossroads in our life, and it's up to us to figure out what we make of ourselves as we search for our purpose in this dead world.

Archive: (Will be posted eventually)

Past threads:

Name: Grisly "Grissy" Storm (Reaper)
Age: ~20
Sex: Female
Species: Griffin
Color: Grey body, navy blue head/chest, pale purple highlights, gold eyes with mildly bloodshot/off white sclera, ivory white claws/beak.

We're a young, larger Griffiness with an olympian body covered in dense, defined, powerful muscle, including a chisled six pack of abs. Our head is squarer, with our head feathers kept short along the sides and our bangs long (we'd be Gilda's doppelganger if our colors were different). Our talons are honed and sharp after a lifetime of fighting with them, making them more effective at cutting through soft armor and dense flesh/hide. Our body has a dozen scars spread over various places, with our most notable ones being three cuts across our right cheek, four deep cuts diagonally across our otherwise fluffy chest, and one cut across the right side of our neck; and we have dozens of whipping scars across our back. We also have a couple thin, but deep scars left over from our crucifixion: over the top and bottom of both wrists, and the top and bottom of our paws.

Our eyes are wild, predatory, sleepless, untamed, and aggressive in nature.

S 10
P 2
E 9
C 2
I 2
A 9
L 7

Tagged Skills:
-Small Guns (Shotguns/Pistols)

-Built to Destroy

-Intimidating Presence
-Shotgun Surgeon
-Bloody Mess
-Action Girl
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We're currently wearing an old turnout coat tied around our waist by the sleeves to act as a skirt, heavily faded and patched up with leather squares in a few spots. Loosely sashed over our jacket/skirt, around our waist, is a looped belt of shotgun shells. Worn over our forehead is a pair of flight goggles. We have black cloth wraps secured around our paws and claws. We also wear a full set of knee and elbow pads.

For armor, we wear some beat up, scratched up talon light combat armor plating covering our upper chest, upper back, and our shoulders, with the talon logo painted on the shoulders and over our heart. We wear some light metal guards over our shins and left forearm.

Secured to our right forearm, just above the wrist, is a PipBuck 3000.

Layered over our body armor is a bandolier lined with pouches, with a holster attached for a pistol, and any grenades we have are clipped on to it.

We also carry an old Equestrian mail service messenger bag for carrying miscellaneous things. We own a light cloth duffel bag we use to store loot, and keep rolled up and tucked in our messenger bag when not in use.

We're armed with a 12 guage O/U skeet shotgun, Little Macintosh (+Comfort Griffin Grip), and our talons.
Caps: 243

Notable Items:
-Stable 2 Canteen
-Flip Lighter
-Needle Nose Pliers
-Guns and Bullets Magazine
-Wasteland Survival Guide
-Applejack Statuette

-Healing Potions x0
-Roll of healing bandages x0 uses
-Dash Doses x3
-Med-X Doses x2
-Whiskey x2
-Shotgun Shells (Buckshot) x24
-Shotgun Shells (Slugs) x8
-44 magnum cartridges x17
-Frag Grenades x6
-Flashbangs x1
-Smoke Grenades x2
-Frag Mine x3
-Slave Collar x6
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>Uh... I don't see any hatches that say "underground escape tunnel" or anything like that.
>I also didn't see any access hatches or drainage grates outside, it's all dusty dirt roads and shit.
>Probably for the best anyways, we got a phobia of underground spaces, remember?

>A bomb! You're a genius 31! We should put together a bomb!
>I'm no expert or nothing, but we got three frag mines, six grenades, a flashbang, and one hell of a throwing arm! We can put something decent together, no problem.

>Well, they're not pushing in, they would've at least started beating on the front door barricade by now. They must have other plans.
>Oh fuck, 46, you got a point.
>Shit shit shit... okay, what would I do if I had to fight a bitch like me, and I were her?
>Stars above... I'd keep me and my people back, I'd keep the bitch grounded, I'd keep someone tracking her movements at all times, and I'd corner her somewhere she couldn't move easily.
>Damnit, she did learn from last time.
>I would start slamming the place with explosives, molotovs, and strafing it with bullets though, which they haven't done yet. They're up to something more clever, something I'm too dumb to figure out.

>We moved over to check out the kitchen.
>We smiled when we saw that the owner of this place didn't have a stove hooked up to some old gas line, it was a grill, hooked up to a propane tank!
>We pulled out the tank, a frag mine, and a roll of duct tape, and we attatched the mine to the base.
>Shit, they'll shoot when we open the door, uh...
>Ooh, wait, we could finally use one of these two smoke grenades! Forgot about those!

>Huh, didn't think about the minigun being low on ammo. Maybe they just don't have a good plan to take us down yet. I'll admit, I've been in that boat before: we get a lot farther than we expected we would, we got the other assholes where we want them, but we didn't actually think the next part through, that sorta thing.
>Ugh, things were so much simpler as a Raider...
>Anyways, the walls are thin, real thin, we could totally start thinning out targets. But that'll make our propane bomb less effective, we need them grouped up.
>That being said, between Dash, SATS, our shotgun, and little mac, we could definitely break through and rack up a few kills. The last alicorn wasn't present to witness our Heavy Machine Gun massacre at the Dam. She won't be expecting that.

>We pushed the couch out of the way, sorta prepped things, and then took a deep breath, hyping ourselves up a bit.
>"Show time", we quietly grinned.

>We pulled the pin on a smoke grenade, cracked the doorway, and quickly dropped the thing outside as it started spewing out smoke, rapidly creating a cloud around the front doorway.
>We heard the Alicorn shout, "Minigun on standby! Watch your spacing! Talons, get ready to give chase!"
>Nice, called it
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I love that part of the wasteland. There's no rebuilding unless you can get everyone to cooperate, and even then everything can fall apart like a house of cards.
The wasteland is this big zeitgeist that makes everything bad, and realistically there's nothing you alone can do to fight it.
>We heard the minigun spin up, dead ahead, in front of the shack.
>Time to give him a little present.
>We took a hit of Dash, and the world slowed down.
>We spread our wings, and with a hard flap, took a wing assisted lunge straight forward through the smoke.
>As we emerged, we hit SATS
>Under the effects of Dash, the normal slow motion of SATS was slow enough that it might as well have stopped time entirely.
>I love this PipBuck
>The Minigun fucker was dead ahead, about 20 meters in front of where we'd be landing, standing near two other slavers. We're gonna shove our propane bomb right up his ass.
>Sapphire and Springfield were on the roof of a building off to our right, wings already open, ready to chase us, assholes. We need to take them down second.
>We saw the alicorn mutie hovering in the air, above the shack, shield up, and horn charged. We'll just have to hope her aim isn't that good.
>Then, there were about... 5 other slavers out in the open, around us, with angles on us. The others on our compass were behind the shack, or otherwise had their views obstructed. We'll deal with them later.

>We momentarily left SATS, and, as we landed on our paws from our lunge, we used our momentum and a sharp underhand throw to send our Propane Bomb flying at the asshole with the minigun.
>The frag mine triggered, and the trio of slavers suddenly became engulfed in a big, firey, slow motion explosion. Their compass pips rapidly winked out.
>Before the explosion even had a chance to fully expand, we had SATS back open, and targeted Sapphire and Springfield with our shotgun.
>We released, and under the control of SATS, we whipped out our shotgun, and fired off both volleys of buckshot. Both of the other griffins were hit, and dropped, but their compass pips didn't wink out, they were still alive.
>As the initial queue ended, we dropped our shotgun, grabbed Little Mac, and brought SATS right back up.
>We queued up five shots, one for each of the slavers. The two ones further out had terrible hit chances, but they were something.
>We also noticed, as we began to queue up targets, a new threat: a pony shaped silhouette emerging from the smoke where we'd come from, but the pony itself was invisible. They must've slipped inside the shack behind us, was that their plan? Corner us and have some invisible assasin take us out?
>Damn, that's actually really clever, we gotta remember that one.
>SATS wouldn't target them, but that's fine, they're in throat slashing range.
>We released our existing queue, and killed two of our targets, and closer one and a more distant one.
>Somehow we missed an 83% and a 95% chance to hit on two of the closer ones, what the actual fuck.

>Leaving SATS, we rushed the invisible pony, our left claw barred, murder in our eyes.
>In the slow motion of Dash, we got to appreciate what came next:
>The pony, in that half second, tilted her head back, causing the hood on her stealth cloak to fall off, revealing that she was Velvet Remedy, with her horn already charged with a spell, ready to release, and determination in her eyes.
>Our heart sank, as our eyes widened: she had us dead to rights, we just lost.

>She released the spell, it hit us, and our whole body immediately went limp.
>Our body's momentum sent us flying right into Velvet, and she let out a cry as she was bodily tackled to the ground by our weight.
>We couldn't move after that, we tried, but our whole body was just completely relaxed! We couldn't tense up any of our muscles, no matter how hard we tried!
>Raw panic begin to well up inside us as it sank in just how helpless we were.

>There was lots of shouting, and the sounds of panic around us, as a direct result of our attack.
>The alicorn shouted in that booming voice of hers, "Stand down! We've won! Stand down!"
>Velvet tried to push our large form off of her with her feeble hooves, before letting out a grunt, and giving up for the moment.
>The alicorn landed directly next to us, shield down, her hooves inches from our eyes.
>She asked Velvet, "Do you need assistance doctor?"
>Velvet groaned, indignantly, "Yes, that would be lovely, please get this brute off of me", she groaned from discomfort, "a little sooner than later, please"
>We were enveloped in purple magic, pulled aside, and dropped like a bag of trash off to the side, right into the mud.
>We at least had a better angle to look up at the two.
>The alicorn smiled, proud, "Excellent work, Velvet Remedy of Stable 2. Your plan worked almost flawlessly"
>Velvet looked around, taking in the scene, before sighing, ashamed, "I failed though, I... hesitated. If I hadn't, she never would have had the chance to come bursting out like she did. These deaths are on my hooves"
>The alicorn shook her head, and said, "You did admirably, for a sub pony, and it takes great courage and strength to uphold your principles in the face of such... savagery"
>Velvet sighed, looking down at us, disappointed, "I... thank you, I just did what I felt was right. Most would call me a fool for that out here, it would seem". Her eyes then widened, and she charged her horn again, "Uh oh, I think she's still awake!"
>The alicorn jumped back a pace, and raised her shield, exclaiming, "Is she a threat!?"
>Nice, she did remember what we did to her sister. I at least felt a bit good about that much.
>Velvet shook her head, and said, "No, I just didn't hit her with a powerful enough charge of the spell. She's a BRUTE, that last charge was enough to put a Brahman to sleep! This next one should do it though"
>She cast it on us, and we suddenly felt so tired...
>We woke up in a cage.
>We were naked, with a slave collar around our neck, coarse rope tied around our barrel and our wings, a piece of cloth tied around our beak to keep it shut, and heavy stell cuffs locked around our wrists and ankles.
>They'd also strapped metal boots and cups around our paws and balled up claws, so our talons wouldn't be a threat.
>We also still had our PipBuck on, good thing we left the key with Ditzy Doo.
>We moved our head to look around, and immediately tensed up: our collar was locked pretty tight around our neck, it rubbed, and chafed, and would choke us up if we talked or breathed too hard.
>We felt a broiling anger build up inside us, and a primal fear. We were enslaved again!

>We were in a train boxcar, inside one of many cages. It was dark, with the only light coming in from around the side doors of the boxcar, or the dozens of little red lights on the slave collars. There were multiple ponies in the other cages, and we saw Kage in the cage next to us.
>He was beaten and bruised up, badly, like he'd gotten the complete shit kicked out of him. He had a slave collar locked around his neck, but none of the other restraints we had.
>Actually, we were the only one all trussed and tied in our cage like we were, what the fuck!?
>Us and Kage had our own cages though, the rest of the ponies had been locked up in groups of four or five each.
>As for our own state of being: we're actually completely healthy, our health bar showed a clean bill of health. Although we still felt extremely lethargic, sensitive, and sluggish, the after affects of intense, rapid healing. We'd need a few days to recover our energy levels. Assuming we live that long, anyways.
>What the fuck do we do now?
How close are the cages to one another? We could get someone else to at least remove the gag, if not some other restraints.
Everyone just gets spooked by grimdark and prefers to go back to cute ponies, in the goddamn wasteland, out of all places.
I want to phhhhbt mutiecutie's belly.
Would y'all mind if I shilled my story again? Last time I talked about it was a bit more than a year ago.
Which one?
Mercenary Tale; it's a bit of an odd sidefic
For now try to slide your upper and lower beak back and forth to slide the rope off it. For later, beat the absolute shit out of that horn head for getting us all in chains.
Agreed, that bitch must pay.
Shit, clever bitch, not sure if she just earned a quick death or a slow one. We got no clue on the range of that collar or if it has any sort of failsafe, right? If we can get loose sneaky-like somehow, Silver should still have the key up at Shattered Hoof. Failing that, I hate to say it, but we're probably going to be in this for the long haul until an opportunity presents itself.
Don't you have strength 10 can't you just break those cuffs?
We have all the important info on Unity we'll break them by talking if we have to
* I mean the Alicorn btw
I meant Velvet Cunt btw
I also meant Velvet Cunt btw
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she bites.
>>Actually, we were the only one all trussed and tied in our cage like we were, what the fuck!?
It's a token of respect, duh. Didn't you enjoy this kind of useless shit? Or you may think of it as an evidence of the long way you've travelled, from a defenceless kid whom they hoped to control with beating and fear to somebody who can only be restrained with excessive amounts of metal. Your call.
First order of business: find out what are they planning to do with us. There aren't many uses for somebody as destructive and stubborn as we proved ourselves to be, and Velvel knew it, so in what capacity do you think she could have offered us to Unity? From the top of my mind, she had only four options that won't necessarily result in massive property damage: keeping us in this cage, gagged and half-comatose, for the rest of our life; deep involatile brainwashing; transplanting somebody else's brain to our able body; and diplomacy. Options 2 and 3 are essentially murder, option 1 is not profitable for Unity in any way. Conclusion: they will most likely try to convince us to be an obedient little bird. With words. Which is, again, a token of respect that most slaves are not going to recieve.
>>What the fuck do we do now?
That's the best part! We do nothing. Nothing important will happen until Velvet will come to talk to us and we'll try to find a way to use our enemies against each other, so, until then, we have some time to relax and have fun. Force yourself to enjoy this moment of peace. The worst has already happened, you're officially a slave again, but it gives you a chance to prove that slavery doesn't define you, or some sappy shit like that, fuck, I don't know, the goal here is to make sure we won't get back to being afraid of enslavement when you'll ultimately break free. Ungag yourself and exchange a few jokes with other slaves, damn, sing a song together.
Hoist her up onto the bed and see what happens.
>Conclusion: they will most likely try to convince us to be an obedient little bird.
OR, they're just going to ship us off to Filly and let Red Eye deal with us.
Yeah, but what can we even do right now? As much as we wanna break the fuck out, it's not all that feasible, is it?
Nah. They won't try to trick their main purchaser by pretending that we're an asset rather than a burden. They won't take responsibility for all the headache we will inevitably cause in Fillydelphia. It's something that a small gang of wannabe slavers would try, but Old Loosa is a serious operation, with standards, reputation and such.
that's a cute mare
bedtime bump.
>two hours to page 8
at least the boards moving?
But maybe they think we would make a good fighter in the pit, or whatever it is where slaves fight each other
seems a little strange to drag someone all the way there for what amounts to a punishment for uppity slaves. Though Grissy does seem to have the flair for gladiatorial combat.
I love you Grissy, please stay alive.
This picture is just pure, condensed feels, man
when talking to an unamed zig-zog ends up causing the apocaylpse
depends, how big is she?

I hate you
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Same, actually. Although for me it was less doomerism, and more of a stop of pretention of how everything is actually alright and shit, similar to an ill person finally dying after suffering for ages.
I just really enjoy the idea that everyone has their own shit to go through, and rebuilding is something that's not really on the mind of too many ponies.
It's a bit of a pet peeve of mine how some authors focus on rebuilding, as if the ponies who never saw a glimpse of the pre-war world would have any idea what to strive for.
If anything, they'd build some small things that could help them and their communities.
Though I'll admit I love the doomer part of the wasteland a lot as well, so I may be biased lol
also twist is hot.
>There's a familly in the wasteland.
>One day run into slavers and get eslaved
>The mother is sold into sex slaver.
>The father is sent to a mine to be worked to death.
>The filly gets raped repeatedly and grows up to be a raider.

God I fucking hate the wasteland so goddamn much.
Now imagine how the wasteland was just 10 years after the bombs.
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>10 years after the bombs
>nooooo why do bad things happen in this tragic setting?!
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I- I know- I know, it's just...
I would fuck Twist in this pic too man
Isometric FoE game when
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just started playing fallout new vegas because i saw funny yes man video.
His face reminds me of Sunny's face in g5 pillowcase which leaked g5. Pic related (can't find the full sized pic anymore)
>human skin tone
that's not how you should ponify. Ponify based on character's clothes/associated colors.
Benny would have white coat and black mane, hause would have light green coat and dark green mane, ceasar would have red coat and yellow hair (like Sprout in g5 or Firebrand)
>black and white plaid suit
to be fair, a more neutral earthy tone would work best with this.
Soon https://www.nma-fallout.com/threads/announcement-fallout-rpg-maker-software.220764/
>certain retro board had a tism fest when this was announced.
Because it's shit to see ponies suffer even when the setting has a certain flair.
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Rampage time!
Dear god this is awesome. Love this drawing and this mare.
Rampage is a good mare. 10/10 would let her maul me to death again.
You should have seen the /vrpg/ thread
our dedicated rampy artist
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Autistic people aren't emotionally complex enough to comprehend the feeling of catharsis you get from tragedy.
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Who would win in a fight between the big 5 protagonists at their strongest?
And why?
Blackjack, because Somber has no sense of restraint.
>at their strongest
Blackjack. PH is absolutely in a league of its own in terms of power scaling.
Well, also in terms of constantly escalating the stakes.
You're the guy from the centaur thread, aren't you?
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Blackjack if Puppysmiles has no time to charge the gun, Puppysmiles otherwise.

Blowjob is strong, but not immortal it took her several years to get deus ex machina'd back to life, and she had a backup body even as Lunajack, so she'd have to destroy Puppy's talisman AND avoid getting pink ghosted or blasted by the satellite (or just having her head caved in by a rock) in the process.
None others come close to these two's power levels.
No, captcha, she isn't a primary protagonist
>We have wiki pages that answer this now.
several years? I thought the story took over the space of months. IDK, i haven't read the whole thing.

Also I would say Murky would win by virtue of plot armor.
Aw fuck yes, this looks amazing. Now I can finally make my-
>he's literally doing it so he can make his own pone mod
I mean the time between her dying after defeating the Eater and her waking up in the other body in the vault. Time between exiting the vault and defeating the Eater is like six months.

Doof thinks so too
BJ has literal plot armor if we pluck her from the point in time where she has Luna's soul.
You wouldn't want her to get hurt, would you?
I don't believe those eyes. Those eyes are trying to get out of her next shift.
>The captcha
>the feeling of catharsis you get from tragedy.
Can you elaborate?
>Poker slut is 100s of times faster and stronger than everyone else here.
Nevermind, I looked it up, I see what you mean. But tragedy is still a shitty genre.
Autism: Confirmed
She looks so precious here. You could almost forgive her for being a rapist
Mares can't be rapists, silly. It's all just fun and games!
Oh, you're right, silly me!
t. Stable 99 overmare.
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Can't listen to the radio without having a schizo episode.
She was sorry.

Yep, Stable 99 overmare was sadist.
Not quite. She was more of a control freak I guess? She had it from her mother.
that's not the only thing she got from her mother
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>there is now an anime skin for Fallout 4
>but still no Fallout Equestria skin

It's so fucking unfair. I feel like I'm about to pop a vessel at this point.
>Anime coomer gremlins get catered to again
Its not fair
u wot thats ridiculous
I don't but I also value living, not getting involved with her
So, I can't decide whether to give him actual dialogue or just describe what he says
By giving him actual dialogue, you have more control over his personality. You can give him an accent, or make him use grammar in a certain way, skip certain words or replace some with others.
This can take longer, and it's easier to mess up as the sentences can be too long, the conversation can drag and often lose focus on what it was originally intended to do.

If you describe what he says, you're giving the reader more control, as their imagination has to fill in the blanks. You can still characterize them with descriptions of how they talk, though (say, 'Scottish Accent').
This can also help you save time, as you don't have to write an entire section of dialogue if it can be summarized with one sentence.

It will be easier to get attached to fleshed out characters, but if it's going to be a short green, I personally wouldn't bother writing dialogue.
In short stories, the sooner you get to the climax and the conclusion the better the effect they have. Even more so if the 'problem' is not in the character's personalities (as in a specific fear or issue to overcome, which would require prior introduction) but an external factor instead (say an animal attack, which is sudden and can come as a surprise).
Who else here thinks Red Eye did nothing wrong?
Well of course he did something wrong, he lost.
He did at least 4 things wrong from my memory.
What would they be?
He shat on Celestia and Luna. That's two mistakes already.
>Murdering his entire stable because they didn't agree with him
>Using slave labor without evaluating the ponies first
>Giving away the location of his vat early therefore introducing multiple uncontrolled variables
>Thinking Littlepip would team up with him
They're dead anyway, not like they care.
Well, Celestia ain't, but he has no way of knowing that. And it's not like she can do anything about it
They should just have agreed with him.
True, he could have been more efficient about it. But then again, you can't scale such evaluations to hundreds of ponies, can you?
Yeah that was a bit retarded on his part. Forgot about it.
Yeah, that's also on him.
Remember that time Red Eye forgot Littlepip's only magical ability?
Hundreds would actually be fairly easy, especially since he did have the goddess' forces and talons to help.
Just a matter of deciding what attributes you want to look for.
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Yeah, it seemed like he got dumber or more hasty as he got closer to his ascension
>dubs of truth
I guess you're right. Shame he was incompetent despite being right.
Considering stable origins he should have a stock of pipbucks so checking could be as simple as checking their personality then sticking a pipbuck on them for a minute and seeing what it says their skills are, or using the pipbuck's spell matrix to build a bot that could do it even faster.
Like a decontamination arch that they just walk through and it outputs the data to a terminal. Could tell whether they are friendly by syncing to his personal one and can measure their skills, whether they have diseases at the same time.
Ponies that are willing to work but don't have particular skills can be sent to care for the soldiers or clean up after foals.
All he'd need is one PipBuck, and he could just jury rig a Vitomatic Vigor Tester, if he wasn't able to find an official Stable Tek cabinet using his resources. It would definitely be a great system, you could put all the new slaves in a processing line, and you could, in moments, separate your slaves into labor groups.

It would be a waste to recycle PipBucks like that though. Those PipBucks should be issued out to top lieutenants and valuable assets, the PipBucks would keep them alive, make them perform their jobs better, and the tracking tags would help Red Eye keep track of where they are at any given moment.
Who said anything about recycling them?
He should have a couple hundred somewhere if he is smart, which he claims to be. At worst it would only be functional after hooking one up to it, but they way it is described makes it seem like he could just take apart a few terminals and copy the matrix to their components and hook that up to some sensors.

Vigor testers aren't specific enough for what I was thinking of, you need the skill and perks tabs for that. Vigor Testers only give Special rankings.
Ooh, that's a good point, those skills, traits, and Perks tabs are pretty useful. Also a doubly good point with copying the spell matrices.

Shit, that also gets me thinking about the potential of manufacturing some cheaper, knock off PipBuck's for the troops: rank and file can get a more stripped down, less feature rich version, and the lieutenants, commanders, and specialists can get a more functional, complete clone version, and the best of the best can get the real, OG ones.

>Love you too, 16
>We'll get out of this

>We could help but start smirking, looking down at our restraints with a bit more appreciation.
>You're right 30, this is a sign of respect, and fear.
>We couldn't help but feel a bit stronger as the feeling of pride hit us. We really had come a long way since our childhood.
>This collar doesn't define us, our life is still ours!

>That being said, we're not gonna wait around to see what their plans are for us, that can only end badly.
>Plus, the whole "pitting our enemies against each other" thing? That doesn't sound like us, we're dumb with a lead tongue, let's stick with our strengths: thriving in chaos, clever and too simple to fuck up plans, and brute force.
>We gotta get out of here.

>Very close together, actually.
>We looked over to the trio of ponies in the cage next to us, and mumbled something, while gesturing at our gag.
>They just stared back, wide eyed and horrified.
>Right, slaves are the most selfish, desperate cowards in the Wasteland, I almost forgot.
>They won't help us unless helping us helps them, and they'll back stab us at the first opportunity if it gets them ahead. I pity slaves, but there's a reason I don't like or trust them on principle.

>Root is a bit of an exception, but she's not a real slave, she's just a captive with a slave collar on, there's a big difference.

>Oh yeah, we're gonna rape and murder that sexy cunt the first chance we get. Fuck her!
>We almost had that fight in the bag! We were outnumbered, out gunned, shot to hell and knocking on death's door, they had us surrounded and dead to rights, they had that alicorn bitch ordering them around and backing them up, but we thought on our paws, came up with something clever, and then almost brute forced our way through them!
>I'm still really proud of how we handled that: the propane tank bomb was a downright inspired idea, and we nearly pushed SATS to its limit during that Dash fuelled rampage.
>That was a great fight, the sort I have dreams about, the sort we tell in stories, and that cunt ruined it right at the best part.

>We moved the upper and lower halves of our beak back and forth, and, after a few minutes, we got the gag to fall off.
>Huh, I'm suprised I didn't think of trying that.
>We glanced down at our cuffs, and smirked as we saw that the chains were really rusty.
>We grit our beak, heaved, and began to pull on the chain as hard as we could.
>We felt the chain give, and then, after a bit more effort...
>The weakest, rustiest link broke, and we were able to move our arms freely.
>We huffed and puffed, as the effort made us break a sweat. We're so fatigued, we were pretty much a semi truck running on fumes.
>We got up onto our knees, and stretched a bit, before before bashing the cups on our claws against the floor a few times, hard.
>The other slaves around us cringed with each impact, staring at us like we were fucking insane.
>Which... we are, but that's whatever. Being sane was awful, and got us lashed onto a cross.
>After a few solid strikes, the strap securing our right claw loosened enough that we were able to brace the base of the cup against a cage bar, and, with a grunt, we pulled back hard, and the restraint broke completely
>We took a few more deep breaths.
>With our right, ivory claw free, we unfastened and threw off the restraint on our opposite claw, and with both claws free, we untied the rope, and let it fall to the floor as we spread out and stretched our wings.
>We then rolled onto our back, pointed our legs straight up, and with a hard flex of our thighs and a loud grunt, we broke the chain between our ankle cuffs.

>We then laid back on the floor of our cage, spread eagle, limp, just catching our breath, as our lungs burned and our heart hammered in our chest.
>This healing fatigue is going to make everything a lot harder. Our body feels heavy, sluggish, and slow, we get winded easily, and we feel like we're half asleep.
>We can't fight like this, even some small fry raider pony with a dull, rusty knife would be our equal right now.
>We took a few minutes to just catch our breath, and get our heartrate down.
>We took a few minutes to do some full body stretches in our cage, getting the blood flowing again through our fatigued, tired body.

>I have no clue what sorts of features or failsafes our collar has.
>We'll have to sneak out, and get the drop on our jailer.
>But... that means picking the lock, which we can't do, and sneaking, which we also can't do well...
>We glanced around at all the slaves in cages around us, all of whom were staring at as pretty intently, and our heart sank down into our stomach: At least a few would snitch if we started anything clever, and worse, the slavers might have one of their own hidden among all these ponies.
>Harvester used to arrange that sort of thing all the time whenever we took a bunch of hostages. We usually had one of the newer members do it, it was a good experience for them.
>We swallowed our pride, nearly choking on it, as we realized we were totally at Red Eye's mercy now.
>Ugh, we're probably going to get punished for breaking our restraints, but bring it, I say, I'd rather die gripping our life in my own claws than live as a slave.
>I'm not afraid of dying, that shit hasn't changed, it's why I still say we're a raider at heart: I want to find a purpose to give our worthless life some meaning, a legacy, but I'm not afraid to die, not at all.
>That's what makes us different from these slaves: these slavers can't control us through fear.

>We rested our claws behind our head, and crossed one leg over the other, as we stared up at the top of our cage.
>Well, back when we were a small fry, or just a rank and file member of bigger raider groups or clans, we used to throw problems at our bosses all the time if they felt like too much for us. So yeah, they probably could just be throwing us to Red Eye to sort out.
>But... no... Sapphire was there to fuck up our ambush. Sapphire screams "doer" to me; she's not a lieutenant, but she's that perfect middle ground you look for in an errand girl: skilled and capable enough to get important jobs done, but still disposable enough that you can just throw her into danger without too much worry.
>We were the errand girl all the time growing up, no matter which gangs we hopped between.
>I never liked thinking of anyone in our own clan as disposable though, even the newest, greenest recruits, so we usually did our own errands once we got the Brigade going. With Harvester running the more technical side of the clan, we always had the time to be more "claws on" with our leadership. I was always proud of that, we lead raids from the front; if we didn't rack up the most kills out of the group, we were doing something wrong.
>I think I called it before, when Sapphire first confronted us: We caught Red Eye's curiosity, so he sent out his sexy, sword toting errand girl to take a look, and see if that DJ was just hyping up bullshit, or, if we were the real deal, he wanted to recruit or kill us before we became a threat.
>Sapphire must've saw through us, and decided to start following us.
>Shit, I don't even want to think about how much she might know about us by now, I'll start freaking out about New Appleloosa and our friends there.
>He can't use us now though, not after that last fight. We've killed his people on the dam, got warned, and killed his people again. If he's a good leader, he'll understand that that's it, we're dead meat in his eyes.
>I would bet caps and chems on him wanting to execute us, publicly, nothing raises morale like executing a a good execution.
>We smirked at the thought of us being thrown into a gladiatorial arena.
>We've fought in a few fight clubs and arenas over the years, back alley raider shit, but we always did well. 65 ain't wrong, we do got the flair for it.
>Yeah... I think Red Eye is gonna throw us into his arena: he'll let us rip and tear apart a bunch of slaves, maybe even slaughter a few old champions who've lost their shine, entertain his people for a while, and then, when we start getting old, he'll give us a fight we can't win, and he'll execute us with a show.
>We could help but let out a content sigh at the thought: yeah... if I didn't want to find a purpose, and we didn't have people counting on us, that would be a pretty great way to go: we'd go out in a Blaze of glory, violently, surrounded by a cheering crowd, it would be a spectacle.
>They'd probably call us War Machine. The title has name recognition already thanks to the DJ, and, I gotta give that faggot credit: he know how to make a good nickname and give it some street cred. People hear "War Machine", and, right away, they got a picture of what to expect: a violent, one woman army of a Talon with a PipBuck, that helps out folks in need for glory and profit.
>...That last part ain't entirely true though. Caps are great, but the glory is enough for me.

>We glanced over to one of the nearby slaves, and asked, "Hey, want me to play some music?"
>The slave looked horrified, and said, "No! Don't do that, we'll get in trouble!"
>We rolled our eyes, and grunted, "Ugh, pussy"
>It was two hours later when we felt the train stop.
>Did we make it to Fillydelphia already?

>We heard gunfire, a lot of it, and a bunch of shouting and swearing outside.
>The slaves in the cages started gasping, whimpering, and glancing all around at the walls with every gunshot and shout that they heard, cowering and shaking with fear.
>We kept chilling out in our cage, we extended the toe talons on one of our paws, and began slowly, idly thrumming them against the floor of our cage as we closed our eyes, and listened to the wonderful sounds of a raid in progress.
>They had good reason to be scared: if things started to go south, the slavers might decide to just pop the collars on their entire inventory. But us? Nah, we just felt disappointed we couldn't be a part of the fight. Even if we weren't enslaved, we were exhausted and spent. All we can do is lean back, relax, and go with the flow.
>I wonder... if they're raiders, they win, and we don't get our collar popped, we'll probably get some solid raider sex tonight. That would be fucking great! I got a bit of a rape fetish, it goes both ways but, damn, it can be hard to find a male who can really hold us down and dominate us truly against our will; but with us fatigued like we are, well, just about anyone could make us their bitch tonight.
>No self respecting raider would skip the chance to rape a big, strong, ripped bitch like us.
>It could go either way after that: they could get lured into a false sense of security, and once we recover, we could slaughter them all and spring ourselves and Kage; he'd definitely be fucked up by the raider captive experience, but he'd be alive, and I'd make sure we broke out before they had the chance to really break him. Alternatively, the raiders might just go all the way, and rape us to death tonight; the sexual deviant in us found that really hot, and even turned us on a bit, but our heart ached at the thought of Kage being condemned to face his fate alone.
>What would happen to Kage then? Hmm... he'd probably live, he was good with knives and pretty tough for a griffin his age, Talons are raised pretty tough in general, and Kage is personable enough that he'll pick up on how to walk the walk and talk the talk quick enough to keep himself from getting killed...
>Yeah, Kage definitely feels like the sort of person that'll live through the breaking process and come out the other side a full fledged raider. That takes a sort of inner strength I think he has. It's still sad to think he'd end up turning into an animal like us, but hopefully his sister will find him, and either pull on his heartstrings to come back into his Talon as a loyal attack dog like us, or she'll realize he's too far gone, and put him down.
>It'll shatter her heart, but she'll pull that trigger, she's strong enough to do that, and she'll have family to put her back together afterwards.
>Shit, that got kinda dark, uh... happier thoughts... happier thoughts...
>Oh, shit, Kage would probably end up getting a really cool getup put together as a raider! He's already got the sense to make knives out of Hellhound Claws, maybe he'll work in a few animal furs or hides into his look, or make a mask from an animal skull, go for a more bloodthirsty tribal look.
>He's also got an interest in studying nature and wildlife already, and he's poked around Everfree enough to know about the old Firewatch HQ we'd hang around ourselves. He could do really well for himself if he lived out there, he'd grow up to be really, really tough if he tests himself against Everfree like we did.

>We heard some chick let out a shrill death scream, and collapse against the roof of our train car, above us.
>The fight was dying down now, but it would still be a few more minutes until the last holdouts were gone.
>Oh yeah... either the raiders aren't accepting surrender, or the slavers aren't offering it, this is gonna be a fight down to their last.
>Stars above, I wish we could be a part of that action.
>We felt an involuntary chill run up our spine, as the reality sank in: this would definitely be when the slavers would choose whether or not to snuff out their inventory.
>I'm never lying when I say that I'm not afraid to die, but, shit, there's still something primal that makes your heart race when you're staring down your death. In a fight it's fucking great, it's what gets that sweet sweet adrenaline pumping and makes us feel alive, but this? Staring down our death and not having any ability to fight back, to go out in a Blaze of glory? It's awful.
>Fuck, I need a distraction, and I'm not turned on enough to masturbate or something retarded like that.

>Uh... okay, mistakes... mistakes... what can you guys learn from this to keep me from fucking up this bad next time around? I know, I know, there isn't a guarantee that this is it, and I don't exactly need to be a part of that conversation, but, fuck, it's a good distraction.
Red Eye did a lot of things wrong, but he was still the good guy.
Pip should have agreed to his offer.
Murder every single unicorn cunt in the wasteland? Could be a start.
Intel failure stemming from bad recon, pretty standard for us. We didn't know they had a minigun, didn't know they had a stealth cloak, didn't even stop to consider the possibility that we were being followed.

Truth is, we kinda need Root and Reggie, they're a lot better at info gathering than us. We can brute force our way through a lot, but there just seems to always be *something* we miss that wouldn't be nearly as much of a hassle if it didn't catch us flat-footed.
if we ever start digging irrigation ducts, we should name the first one after Root.

>"Hey Grissy what are you doing with those slaves?"

>"Getting a Root Canal done."
Ah, I'm sorry. My plan wasn't really designed to work without everyone being present in the execution.
Moreover, maybe Enclave 'improvisation' doesn't work as well when you don't have power armor and a pin-point accurate instakill beam to use.
I just wanted a sliver of that old glory, and the moment we stopped to talk, it wasn't that at all anymore.

Sorry my dumb idea led to this, Grissy. I was being selfish, and I should've thought more before suggesting it.
We don't have the numbers for a full on assault and as much as I hate to say it, skill and brutality can only account for so much. I say we go back, load Root up with enough "acquired" explosives to level the whole camp, and then sneak her in under cover of darkness to line everything but the cages and armory with enough yield to flatten an Iraqi school house. After that it's less an attack and more a clean up.
Somewhat along the lines of what >>37864094 said. We should probably get a few allies of some kind. This whole thing would have gone much smoother with any degree of either cover fire or recon.
It's not smart to talk about yourself in third person.
I'm gonna marry Grissy and none of you can stop me
V can.
Literally by writing her love interests away.
I still stand by his cybernetics fucking up his dip.
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Alright, so against better judgement I'm reading PH and I'm up to Chapter 9 and I'm now starting to see the reason why I was advised not to do this to myself.

So far I was actually enjoying the story but this chapter unraveled quite a few things for me and I feel like this might be where things start going downhill.

Honestly what the fuck just happened? This entire chapter felt contrived. Alright, so BJ just waltzes into the Pecos hideout after helping Dusty kill a radscorpion and no one even thinks to ask, "Hey, take off the hat and glasses"? During the questioning occurring during the game everyone at the table already knew BJ was most definitely a stable pony, so not one of them thought it pertinent to positively ID her? Stable dwellers aren't exactly a common reporting in the wasteland since DJ Pon3 has only reported on her and Little Pip at this point. We're talking about a 50/50 shot at 100,000 caps alive assuming it's BJ and no one thinks to ID her?

Next is the Dusty just becoming this loose gang's leader within a night? We know that the Pecos are mostly a decentralized gang where people come and go for work, so how in the fuck did she accomplish that let alone teaming up with a person with a massive bounty? I haven't even mentioned the delicate economic situation at play here. Why the fuck would you bring the wrath of two of the biggest players in this region of the wasteland down on your head by forcibly seizing a slave pit with one of the most notorious ponies in the wasteland right now? Why would you do it when you're probably just with this gang for food and caps?
>hey, let me just throw away this modicum of security I have for a moral crusade that I have no reason to care about and then die when the mine get retaken in a few days by Paradise, lmao
The story justifies this with the fact that the slaver guards apparently treat the Pecos like shit and... why? Why would you treat your security detail like shit? Why the fuck would you SHOOT at your security detail? What the fuck?
Fuck it. Okay, so BJ frees the slaves. Hooray, and miraculously Dusty became the leader of the Pecos overnight and convinced the Pecos to form a union with the slaves. How the fuck did this work out? Who represents the slavers? Why would any of the slavers agree to this? Assuming news travels in the mines, why would the slavers not immediately jump BJ? Why did this entire situation not end in everyone killing each other over her bounty and BJ having to escape realizing she just killed hundreds by disrupting an incredibly delicate economic and diplomatic situation? Hell, it's a miracle everything worked this far when realistically BJ should've been getting shot and blown up at the bar within a few minutes but sure man.

I haven't even brought up Lancer yet. This feels slightly less contrived since it seems reasonable that BJ is going from being too eager to kill to overly hesitant to cope for her crumbling moral compass but particularly when the Crusaders warned her about him she immediately should've taken a more hostile approach. BJ promised to herself that she would do the Crusaders justice and actually listen to them for once and for her to just basically ignore their warnings and their obvious fear at Lancer's presence feels immensely retarded. They even gave BJ a proper reason that wasn't just, "Cause she's a dirty zigger lmao."

I'm gonna keep reading and just hope this was a one off shit chapter but I dunno man. With the sheer degree that BJ's bounty is just forgotten or hand waved away for something in the plot to happen is getting pretty annoying to me. I was expecting more of a BJ and the gang effectively become outlaws due to this fuck huge bounty and need to explore the more dangerous and mysterious parts of Hoofington to figure out the EC-1101 mystery to evade the wider Wasteland population but I dunno if I'm gonna get that.
>stick with our strengths: thriving in chaos
Sounds fun, I'm still waiting to see it in action. So far your attempts to "thrive in chaos" didn't do any good, to anybody, not even once. Are you sure it's more than just a petty excuse to give up trying to think for one little step ahead?
Anyway, why didn't you tell anybody about this rape shit? There are so many ways to nonlethally poison you! You should ask Dogmeat about it. If we'll survive this predicament, that is.
>marrying a dyke harlot
I hope you're not expecting a stable family, or even a family at all
Sleepy bump
>I dunno if I'm gonna get that.
you sort of will, but only like 14% of it will be actually good and the rest will just be a mildly entertaining clusterfuck of details that blur together in your memory.
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Take that back!
let's make Grissy marry Velvet Remedy instead, seeing as we seem to have a tendency to put Grissy through shit situations.
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PH is such a mixed bag. Somber's absurd passion dripping from each bloated story arc and horrific set piece kept me hooked till the end, but I'll be the first to admit the story is way too long, way too contrived, and jumps the shark dozens of times. I recommend sticking to it, but don't get too hung up on forgetting little details and side characters. The story is almost 2 million words long; thr details will start melding together eventually. Its the broad strokes and page-to-page character interactions that will ultimately carry the story for you.
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And I can write my own
Yup. I'd consider it my favourite piece of fiction overall, but even I wouldn't call it flawless. I really enjoy a lot of it, but there's also so. many. points. where I just go "Somber what the fuck"

Dude, are you really that much of a sadist? Geez dude, get some help. I wouldn't wish that on even my worst enemies.
On Homage's horn.
>be autistic
>love end-of-the-world stories, grimdark, and horror

Don't get what you mean, anon.
Same here. It just shows that there are people more autistic than us. People whose emotional complexity is so minuscule that even autists like us seem un-retarded in comparison.
That does remind me of people getting pissed about S9 showing the main six getting old. What did you think they were going to do, all turn into alicorns? At least they're happy.
Look man, we might need to take that bullet for our bro Calamity.
Shit, sorry Grissy. We all knew how much of a conniving backstabbing cunt that Velvet lady is, we just kind of.... forgot to mention that.
>take that bullet for our bro Calamity
Honestly I'd just straight up marry him, save him from the crazy bitch that way lol.
Lacoonah matata.
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considering p-21 whipped and chomped on her during sex and she liked it, I would say she wants to get hurt
I think the weirdest thing about PH is the sexual nature of it. I don't mind sex in my sci-fi, even gratuitous sex, but having almost every character be a violently horny bisexual sex pest boning constantly throughout the story in detail makes me me think "Hm, when did this stop being for the narrative's sake and start being because Somber is seriously getting off on this?"

What Somber did with Scotch being among the worst offenders
You aren't the only one that thinks that. Somber said this was one of the things he would do if he re wrote the story

>The third thing I would do is tone down a lot of sex in the story. There’s some scenes towards the end that I should just take out, but sexuality is an aspect of character and I didn’t want to ignore that either. Sex plays a role from the first chapter to the last, and so the really blatant scenes should be toned down or removed. Several places I simply went too close to the edge and crossed the line from writing sexually relevant material to erotic or porn, depending on your tastes.
>next time around?
I'm gonna be real Grissy. I know that you're batshit (lol Root buttsex) insane. By Tartarus I don't even know if we, the voices in your head are real. I don't know if I'm real! But I do know that this whole reset thing was real, because we saw the consequences avoided in real time. We really need to figure out what that reset is, it's limits and it's quirks. Seems a goddess sent gift to unfuck your life.
He did? I don't remember.
Fucking this. I don't really fault him for going for a theme, but the later chapters… yeahno. There are so many spots where it's just too much.
His obsession with rape also shows. Quite a few times in the fic it made sense so you kinda accepted it.
But then there are also so many places where it's so damn contrived. It wasn't necessary to the story, and could have been handled in so many different ways. And yet, Somber chose rape.
I'm not gonna pretend like the rape elements in my own fic are 100% necessary, but shit like Deus' backstory are so damn contrived it's annoying.
you have a fic? pos tit

It's in chapter funny sex number
>deus' backstory
I've never even thought about the idea that someone can be so stupid that they could be tricked into raping their own friend by some random hoe.
Already did a while back, but hey, I'll never pass up an opportunity to shill my story. It's called Mercenary Tale, though it's odd in genre in themes.

I know, right? That's so fucking stupid.
You know that pretty much every blowjob on gloryhole scene involves spanking, and BJ loves it, right?
No, I honestly forgot.
Maybe thats why she shrugs off dying as much as she does.
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what's his problem FoE
The chemistry between BJ and MG is so tepid that only a handful of their scenes are memorable
Yeah, though I think Glory herself is memorable. I still absolutely adore her, and I think it's because she was always described through Blackjack's eyes.
Or maybe I'm just a retarded waifufag.
Really? All I remember about Glory is that she was an Enclave dyke (HEY EVERYONE SHE'S GAY, GAY PONIES EVERYONE HEY HEY LOOK SHE'S GAY) and BJ's favorite whore.
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Glory as a character is memorable, it's just that their relationship was really just lesbo porn that wouldn't have barely changed the story at all if it was removed.

Contrast this with P21 who was with Blackjack since the beginning of the story and actually have an interesting character dynamic aside from 'I love you lots'
I didn't really get that feeling at all, not gonna lie.
In hindsight, I only liked her relationship with BJ because I liked Glory herself.
Well, I actually really hated what became of BJ and P21's relationship near the end on my first read.
Maybe that was just 19 year old me having the emotional depth of a puddle and failing to understand the nuance.
I really need to finish my reread, but it's been hard to put aside the time.
you mean that he died at the end?
Nah, their relationship in general.
His death did piss me off greatly, but that was mostly because it became blatantly obvious that Somber was trying to push his ~artistic vision~ at all cost, creating super fucking contrived deaths for all of the main characters.
I really didn't feel anything other than annoyance at P21's death, and anger at Rampage's.
In contrast, Glory's death emotionally ruined me to the point of crying myself to sleep that night.
I don't know if her death was the most impactful (and thus well-written) because it was actually well-written, it was the first, before I was decensitised to it.
I don't think there was any nuance to miss, that's why the relationship sucked. I guess Somber wanted to explore whether love really conquers all? Or the strains of the Wasteland on personal connection? But instead it was just endless cycles of
>Blackjack fucks up big time in the name of justice
>Glory mad at Blackjack
>Blackjack mad at Blackjack
>BJ says sorry
>le ebin bdsm makeup sex
>ooh so embarassing scotch saw ooh p21 thinks mares so icky
>Blackjack has for real learned her lesson this time

it gets stale really fast, debatable whether its worse than Pip and Homage's weird radio humiliation fetish
Glory constantly getting to "punish" Blackjack sexually as some kind of fair recompense for emotional damage is not how a stable relationship is built. It could be removed and the story, and how much these characters care for and interact with each other, wouldn't have to be changed at all.
No I meant the relationship between BJ and P21, since anon mentioned they have an actually interesting dynamic
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It's amazing that I haven't found a single person who've read PH that liked how it ended.

Well if tearing your soul out was what Somber was intending to do, it worked on you. For me it was the reverse though
To be fair, I don't think any of these character as they are written could function as part of a stable relationship. The relationships are ass-backwards and volatile because the characters meant to be in them were written to be ass-backwards and volatile. Honestly trying to apply any real world logic to the choices and motivations of any FOE story falls apart because the situations less resemble the real world from which our logic derives, and is more akin to Liberian ghetto than anything else.
Yeah, it's even funnier considering that I genuinely love Project Horizons. I've gone ahead many times and said that it's overall my favourite piece of fiction, and I stand by that. But the quality dips so hard near the later chapters. Especially near the end. Fuck man, I never actually even finished the fic.
What can I say, though, I'm a sucker for tragedy.
But like I said, the character deaths quickly overstayed their welcome. Spamming them completely ruined any emotional impact they could have had.
And the reason I didn't finish it is because I frankly didn't care how it ended. All the stakes were gone for me, and I really didn't care whether or not equestria was going to blow up or not.

(in my defense, half the reason I didn't finish it is because when I first read it the ending wasn't out yet, and I couldn't be fucked to keep up)
sorry if my posts read like the mad ramblings of a crackhead. it's really late but I can't stop myself from rambling about PH
Nah nah it cool. I became obsessed with PH for about a month now. I got several fanart pics of it and everything.
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I absolutely like the ending of PH. For me it delivers exactly what it promises all throughout the entire story. In fact I enjoyed it so much I re-read it twice and relished all the little moments and plot thread tie-ups.
That's definitely true, the relationship is probably realistic for the setting, but then it just makes you wonder what the point of it all is.
I actually enjoyed reading PH, but mostly because I was desperate to see what new horror Somber had invented for his characters. A great story should change the way you view the world by teaching you through the characters' actions and choices; after reading PH you just think "well, that was fucked up. I hope nuclear war doesn't happen in real life" and move on and then talk about it on /mlp/ because it totally didn't affect you no way.

I guess the fact is that PH is too long. Character moments that were already weak to begin with start to repeat, and you feel like no-one is learning anything.

haha this thread is for rambling, it's OK. I did like P21 and Blackjack's relationship much more, especially at the start. P21's repulsion to sex meant that their interactions could be dealt with in a more mature way (i.e. by talking and doing things) and I really did like how they got to know each other, and BJ earned P21's forgiveness. Sad that P21's arc felt like it should have ended at Chapel - he'd fixed his leg, forgiven BJ, accepted Scotch, basically he was sorted out. It's a shame that transition happened off screen, and also he has a threesome and then dies. I guess I would have preferred if he had lived on, a virtue of forgiveness in the Wasteland, and taught others how to live better
Here's my shit take

the ending would be better if p-21 and glory lived at the end and blackjack died
Fun fact, my second read of PH was actually what inspired me to actually start putting in the work for my own story. Until then I'd always refused to do anything longer than 15k words.
>you just think "well, that was fucked up. I hope nuclear war doesn't happen in real life"
See, I'm actually retarded enough for my escapist fantasy to be the Equestrian wasteland.
And yeah, in my second read, I've been enjoying P21 as a character a lot more. On my first read I found him an annoying, whiney grump. I still don't like the bs he pulled with Scotch, though.
Not a shit take at all desu. But if I recall correctly, Somber wanted BJ to be a ~true hero~, which apparently meant she needed to sacrifice everything, even her friends. While I find the idea interesting, the execution was so damn botched
agreed, I think part of the reason the ending stings is because it feels like there's no legacy to the adventure. We're immortal as long as we're remembered, and all BJ's friends getting fed into the meat grinder and pasted in the closing stages just makes it feel like it was all for nothing, even though she wins in the end. Maybe that she fought on even though no-one would truly know what happened was the point - sacrifice for the greater good is kind of the theme.

mine too, the Equestrian Wasteland is good escapism. It's a place where your actions are your own, your virtue is rare, and you can make a serious difference to others' lives if you want, you're completely free to follow your heart. However I don't lift and would definitely die in three seconds if the wasteland was real
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>Eyes calendar
>Looks at PH Google Doc creation date
>PH is almost 10 years old too now
I dunno PH gets better the more you watch the smaller details and with rereads I think, Main cast has its shining moments, but the plot gets entirely too fucking focused on BJ/Golden and becomes too animu near the end. Legate essentially becomes a discount Madara Uchiha, and not in the neat Stronghoof way. Even has his own clone army lol, sorry Somber.
what did he do with scotch? I didn't read that far.
I think part of the big thing that makes the finale of PH such a slog is that it took Somber too long to start killing important characters. Minor characters go fairly often, but Lacune is the only casualty the main group takes prior to the last 5 or so chapters. So, when he knocks out almost the whole gang one after the other, interspersed with recurring characters dropping like flies, it hits an overload point where you either finish the story in a daze or drop it because fuck this shit. And to be fair, that can be a valid approach, war does fucked-up things to people, and getting the audience into that same "I don't know why I'm even going on anymore" state is a powerful thing. The problem arises from the fact that he hasn't established PH as that kind of story. For all the horrific shit that goes on in it, it's generally pretty easy to tell who has plot armor or not, so when he toggles off the god mode, the audience isn't braced for this to be an "everybody can (and probably will) die" story.
I think that is the most probable explanation. It just was not that type of story, and I would go as far to say that it's a textbook example of fridging . It serves no purpose to the story outside of torturing BJ some more.

It doesn't help that all the characters die in the last 2 chapters, giving the story no time to really let the tragedy sink in, thus providing no catharsis
Exactly. Lacunae disappearing made me feel very sad. Glory's death destroyed me. But the rapidfire nature of the next few deaths just ruined it all and felt flat as fuck.
Agreed. I've been noticing a lot of small things on my second read. There's a lot of hints for the mystery aspect of it, and I missed most of them during my first read.
>It's a place where your actions are your own, your virtue is rare, and you can make a serious difference to others' lives if you want, you're completely free to follow your heart.
That's a very good way of putting it, anon, you make a great point.
>However I don't lift and would definitely die in three seconds if the wasteland was real
Same. Only things that I do have going for me is that I know how to pick locks and I understand firearms (and know how to use them).
Well I guess I'm also good with computers, but I doubt that kind of knowledge would help me survive, since terminals probably work quite differently.
He's her dad and refused to tell until severely pushed, up to the point of getting unicorns to erase her memory after the Tunnels (where it was revealed accidentally).
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Maybe I was an autistic edgelord back in 2016, but I sped through all of PH and the only death to actually hit me was Lacunae. And even then it was just brief sadness and feeling like something important was missing. The rest was so incredibly stupid that I just bore a blank face while reading it.

Fuck, I actually felt relieved when glory hole was killed off, I hated that dyke from the moment she was introduced. And then all that happened at the end, and the epilogue that made it look like it was all a joke. It was simply "wtf? Well anyway, time to read pink eyes next."

The only character I liked was Dealer, and he turned into a joke towards the end too. When he finally got back his body, he was immediately shredded by the robot sprites or whatever the fuck they were. I was so numb by stupidity at that point that my only reaction was ".. alright then"
Wait, that actually happened? That's one of the chapters after she came back from the moon, right? 'cause if it's before that I completely forgot about it.
But yeah, the way most of those deaths are written is so fucking stupid and contrived. You shouldn't abandon good writing just to fulfill your ~artistic vision~ for fuck's sake.

And same. I read it in 2015 and sped through all of the published chapters in like a month. Unlike you, though, I immediately latched onto Glory.
Man, with how much shit I've been talking about PH I'm surprised yet again by how much I love it despite all of the bullshit. Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome.
No, it happens on the moon itself.
Huh, I guess I'd already stopped paying attention by then.
It invests about as much or less words to describe that death as it does for the literallywho weebhorse introduced in the same chapter.
That, too, doesn't ring a bell.
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After Pink Eyes, I sped through Murky and it was a really nice ride. Very dark, but the pay off was good. Rereading wasn't an option because after some years I couldn't get myself to stomach all the epic details again. The first time was nice, but I quickly noticed how much fluff and unnecessarily fantastic and epic everything was in the story.

That, and reading the much simpler and grounded Longtalons really did make me grow out of hero shit.
Yeah, MN7 is absolutely on my list. But it's so fucking long and I have so little time. The biggest criticism I've seen of it is that it's misery porn (and that's something I actually tend to enjoy lol)

I might read Longtalons, then, because I myself really don't like hero tales all that much (PH being an exception because of how much I enjoyed the idea that every heroic deed comes at a steep cost).
Hell, it's why I absolutely refuse to have my own story be about heroism at all.
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Theres 2 Dealers tho.
Echo Dealer and The one who might be 4D given Speak's recent chapter. The 4D one is the one who got off on BJ being eternally tormented as a cosmic plaything.
Beware that Longtalons has a griffon protagonist and is griffon focused, though. Just in case you are expecting another pone tale. But it's different to the other fics in every way, in good ways.
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>Story titled Longtalons
>focuses on griffins
Never woulda guessed.

For real though it sounds dope. I just need to find the motivation to stop being a retarded workaholic and do things other than writing and schoolwork.
Maybe I can just sacrifice some sleep instead...
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Just saying. There are some retarded types around here who go ballistic when they don't have their fix of hooves.

I started reading Heroes too, but didn't finish it because I lost interest. Even tried reading fucking Broken Bonds lol. What a cringe fest, it reminded me of all the dead meat that is the countless unfinished side crap there is in the fandom.
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>check out broken bonds because never heard of it
>it has a better like/dislike ratio than my own cringefest
pic related

I've heard good things of Heroes, though. I might check it out if I ever get infinite free time.
I've not heard good things about Heroes. What I've heard is that it's plagiarising FNV's story exactly.
I've mostly heard that a character starts off insisting he's not a hero, then ends up becoming a hero over the course of the story. I tend to like shit ilke that
Friendly reminder that pegasi rule and everypony else drools
Suck it, grounders
Fuck off, turkey. No one likes your kind
Hey that's really mean, man
Sorry :(
It's okay man
I forgive you
Oh, hey, Homelands updated: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/298834/fallout-equestria-homelands

Like, almost 2 weeks ago...
My favorite thing about Somber is how he absolutely cannot stop writing about children having sex, especially with adults. Just physically cannot stop himself from doing it.
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From the latest chapter. At least he can crack a joke at his own expense.
Which, in the context of the apocalypse, is quite reasonable. Just look at what is happening in Gaza or Armenia with children this year.
Well, as much as it's true that it happens, the dude seems slightly obsessed with the concept.
And that's coming from someone with a similar complex.
I know about Scotch Tape, but what were the other ones?
Tell us about your FoE OCs, faggots. Post pictures if you've got them. Make some on Ashes Town or something if you don't.
Tell us about yours first, faggot
Pretty please
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The best is that he used to be a schoolteacher. What was his subject again, literature? No wonder he got fired.
Still working through the original fic, anons. What order should I read the other big four in after that? I'm most interested in Project Horizons, but I also know it could take me literal years to finish, so I feel like I should go through the shorter fics first.
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Fine, I didn't have one ready to go, so I just made one up for the thread. Used Ashes to create the picture since I can't draw well.

Meet Bouquet. Former raider who decided she didn't have the stomach for killing innocent travelers anymore, so she decided to take up the oldest profession and visit towns offering nights of intimacy in exchange for caps and/or supplies (especially medical supplies so she won't die of or pass on STDs). She still has an eye for risky situations from her raider days and always keeps a gun close, which is why she's survived this long in a job where ponies typically end up dead, robbed blind, or enslaved. She uses a Pip-Buck she pulled off a corpse to navigate the wasteland and avoid meeting anyone when she's traveling between towns. All in all, not a bad life.

(Description continued in next post.)
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>>37874387 (remaking post because I forgot the image spoiler)
The first thing you should know in the Wasteland is that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

The second is that prostitutes are always lying when they tell you their life story. Pincer- her real name- really does provide the service she offers, but she gets more benefit from it than just the caps she charges. And every now and then, a customer will go missing for a few days before reappearing in a hotel, lightheaded but no worse for wear, with no memory of the lost time. Since she travels and changes her appearance often, no one really notices that she's never seen buying food with all those caps, or that especially poorly-behaved customers may not return from their time with her at all. After all, who'd miss the kind of pony who tries to attack an honest prostitute?

All in all, it's still not a bad life.
I technically do have some but at the same time I'm not certain they count.
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Welp, since I can never resist the urge to autistically ramble about my OCs, here goes. I got two that I really like.
This one is Iron Sonata. She's originally a stable filly who is bound to eventually become overmare. Her parents isolate her from anyone outside of them.
However, she's tricked by her (physically and emotionally abusive) father into leaving it, and it's then she finally realises she doesn't have to put up with his abuse and straight up guns him down, letting her repressed violent fantasies out.
She's basically an unstable, sadistic, ungrateful brat that's thrown into the wasteland. The only thing keeping her alive is her knack for magic and guns (as well as her cousin that followed her out of the stable, see my next post)
Spoiler for her fic: She's not actually a full on sociopath; she's just extremely stunted due to her upbringing. Given enough time to develop, she can grow a conscience and become less of an unstable brat.
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Candy Cane is Iron's cousin. She's a kind, caring (and cute as fuck) mare who basically just wants what's best for everybody.
She understands it's not always feasible, and won't hesitate to resort to violence if she has to.
Mild spoiler: She follows Iron out of the stable because she feels like it's her fault she was tricked into leaving. In general, she feels like Iron becomes her responsibility after the two leave the stable.
She's willing to compromise on her own morals to make sure Iron can live the best life possible (while keeping >wasteland in mind)
That is a really cool concept. Does she have a set story? Because I'd love to cameo her in my own (without going into any details), but I'd hate to break any pre-established aspect of her character.
What timeframe does she live in? How old is she? Would she realistically have already been doing it ~15 years before Littlepip left Stable 2?
They're not FoE OCs, more like AU OCs in FoE, but bear with me, this gets pretty autistic:
There's basically a universe in which the war got resolved with some combined research project that lead Equestria into the space age along with the rest of her neighboring countries. In this timeline they have a buncha si-fi magic stuff including the ability to respawn. The new version of the Royal Guard, the Allied Defenders (or whatever the fuck you wanna call them idk) train almost entirely using realistic simulations, bloodsports and relying heavily on the use of respawners to facilitate this. As a result they are very accustomed to pain and death to the point it doesn't faze them much.

Anyway, a squad of these guys from the upper echelon under-perform during training one day, and as a punishment, their superior sends them to sort out something with the very intelligent retards at a nearby research facility. Said retards were testing a new host-body with a ton of cybernetic weaponry built into it, but they fucked up, it gained self awareness, broke out of the test chamber, broke into another sector and went through an experimental inter-dimensional portal to the FoEverse.

They get sent in after it with nothing but their hides as armor and their hooves as weapons, and at first they encounter ghouls and think that's all there is. Shortly after they find a group of raiders who try to shoot them, a town that tries to hire them, and a family that begs them not to hurt them even though they make no indication they intend to.
With a growing distaste for the wasteland, they keep searching for their objective while trying their hardest to tone out the misery around them using a bunch of stupid jokes.
Already loosing patience by this point, they run into a large group of slavers just as they run out of puns, and the grim reality of this alternate universe finally sinks in.

They alternate between trying to do something to help, which sometimes resorts in someone getting killed and having to respawn, and succumbing to exasperation and letting horrible shit happen while trying to get on with their mission.

They quickly learn that four soldiers, no matter how skilled and resilient, even immortal, can't make a dent in the grand scheme of things when an entire fucking species returns to the stone age.

Thanks for reading, if you did. :)
You're right, that's pretty autistic.
I can dig it, though, it's pretty interesting
So what does everyone think of Homelands so far
I literally just made her up, so she doesn't have a whole lot of pre-established character traits yet. I can make up some answers to your questions for the sake of consistency, though. Plus I might use her myself later, so knowing this stuff will help.

I'm including a headcanon here that changelings age slightly slower than ponies, so bear with me on that. Her age doesn't indicate that she'd be all that old, by her standards, by the time of Littlepip's emergence from the Stable.

I'd say she would've been doing this for, let's say, twenty years before Littlepip's emergence. So in the timeframe you mention, she'd have been at it five years. She's obviously a distant descendant of Chrysalis's hive, which I imagine to have barely scraped by with a fraction of its original numbers after ponies basically ceased to exist on the surface for a few decades, leaving them devoid of a previously abundant source of food. They may also have been affected by radiation, with the flames their magic produces being altered in a way similar to balefire phoenixes. Still figuring out the details on that concept. For now let's say that she gives off a light surge of radiation when she transforms. She'd be in her mid-40s at the beginning of Fallout Equestria, so go back 15 years before that, and she'd be 25.

As for where she lives, she's already pretty migratory- as I mentioned, she frequently moves from one settled area to another. But generally she'd be traveling the parts of Equestria south of Canterlot, navigating between areas like New Appleoosa and nearby settlements while doing her best to avoid anywhere and anyone with signs of imminent trouble about them.
>go ballistic when they don't have their fix of hooves
That's because birds are boring.
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>birds are boring.
I like my horses man, but I don't see what you mean.
They have a more diverse set of abilities, are more capable and typically work as mercenaries, which has more potential for interesting situations to arise.

It's even better when they're not mercenaries, because their motivations and abilities vary outside the realm of what you'd get with ponies.

If used properly, they can be a lot more interesting, just not more attractive.
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Reminder to take care of Wasteland mares
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Cool. No idea if I'll actually end up referencing her, but I know it's an option now. Will update if I do, though
Fine. This is going to take a little while. Something you should know however, most of my characters are from my dreams, might not make sense.

First is a not-dracony, Sky Burst: he's a fire golem although I've recently started calling him a djinny. He ended up joining some raiders and eventually being killed by being dunked into a lake by a unicorn. Liked to superheat his claws and jam them into captives, treat the wounds, do it again. Eats fuels. Never finished a drawing of him. Not certain if he counts cause he's dead.

Second category for not certain if they count is because the world they are set in was designed around trying to merge FOE and SCP and it's set pre-apocalypse. Acronym is FSE: Foundation for the Security of Equestria.

First of these is Burgeoning Humours, an older unicorn mare and trained surgeon. Her talent is Hemokinesis, hence why she got into medicine, discovered she was able to stop bleeding. She wants a coltfriend but doesn't think she could handle a foal with how demanding her job is. Kinda looks like a barber pole.

Grenadine, a male gryphon, I posted a ponytown version of him in the griff thread that's up. No, I don't know why he is purple. He was hired as a "guard" in the facility that the others are in. He mostly was just meant to keep one of the creatures in the facility under control, ended up becoming friends with them.

Bright Idea, a strange researcher in the facility who is always around, is in containment. Name should explain enough.

There's also a collection of tatzlponies too, there cause they eat too much and compulsively abduct ponies. 5 of 12 are complete characters as well but I'm too tired to continue. Grenadine deals with tatzlponies cause they ignore griffs, or rather they don't behave weirdly around griffs.
ALWAYS take GOOD care of your wasteland mares.
Calamity has side-view muzzle
>Dr. Bright is always in containment
Seems about right.
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What are some good names for raider mares?
If we're talking generic raiders...
Sawblade. Razor. Shotgun. Redguts.
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>have fun coming up with characters and factions
>try to write a story with them
>can't come up with anything
Ideas can come and go, write them down.
Once you have enough of them, it's just a matter of connecting the dots with dialogue and SoL between the major events.

Is it easy? No. But it is possible.
I wanna fuck the bug
Target Practice. That's a neat one.
Similar vein to >>37875503
Got any good slaver names? This one in particular is supposed to be a bit of a faggot who believes he's better than other slavers just because he's not sadistic.
feeling something with bird imagery, because both preening and crowing mean being self-congratulatory

so maybe Crow Call, or just Crow?
I dig; plus there's the ironic bit of birds representing freedom, while he takes it away from ponies.
You have to pay for that privilege.
Crow's a cool-sounding name for a villain. Go for it.
Happy Thanksgiving to any Americans here in /foe/.
If we're doing slaver names with the word crow in it

I'd settle for Jim Crow
I think encountering Jim Crow the slaver is going to take some readers out of the story anon
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here's some outdated concept art of an Arbu Village OC I have
It wasn't serious advice, but I wrote it badly that made it sound like it was

make him a griffon
Haven't read it yet, Somber
Y'know, I'm not ush'ally int'a th' rapin' thin', but I s'poose there's no harm in tryin' it out. Then ag'in, does it still coun' as rape if we're int'a it?
What if this but foe?
what songs and stories would you use?
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stuff happens in it
why is Scotch ziggered up?
well she's in the zigger lands so i assume she gets STRIPPED a lot
considering that zebras don't tend to have green coats and purple hair, pretty sure it is a domination/ownership thing
Isn't striped about domination/ownership anyway?
If she didn't look like a pistachio ice cream with purple yam jam topping, it could be a disguise instead. And redstripes, like what zebra defectors do (and what Peppermint got baked into her coat, furthering her resemblance to the namesake) are about defiance.
and again.
Fortunately, most of it happens during the time skip.
>Striped Scotch
Ok, that's hot
A festival of fucking the filly?
In the case of ponies he don't really need the some sophisticated analysis tools.
Just look at the rumps, for the Godness sake!
You got pipbuck technican at capture - and what are you doing? Sendning her to the bug hunt! Brilliant!
She's a young mare now
Well, when you open your festival with a live re-enactment of the hatefuck that founded your tribe, there's not much you can leave off the table at that point.

Except abortion, surprisingly.
I don't think I will, no thank you.
Why is every day penis inspection day with you?
No, your plot armor will get me killed if I do.
I know how this ends. This shit must run in your family.
no I will NOT join your ghost harem like all your friends
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Yeah, we seem to end up there a lot...
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Ok but please be gentle.
She'll eat those from what I know.
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Yes Man Sunny higher quality.
"You should go meet the Pegasi and Unicorns, anon"
>What I meant is, you should get to know these tribes and decide which ones you like and which you don't! You know - shape the future of Equestria! Choose your neighbors! If you like a tribe, leave it alone! Or if a tribe is nasty, or going to be a problem - go ahead and exterminate it! It's whatever you want to do!
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Thanks for putting in the effort to write down what I couldn't be fucked to. Gave me a good chuckle.
once again.
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No thanks
New page by Shino.
Who's that?
A PNP character. Plenty of PNP campaigns containing plenty of PNP characters out there.
That really needs some context.
there is none, I just made that filename up on a lark.
Think of her as some kind of town militia horse, fighting off raiders, ferals and other routine threats to the farmers on the outskirts.

>Yeah... maybe
>At the very least, it's a reminder about something else I've been slipping on since the crucifixion: Unicorns fucking suck, and we usually kill them first.
>They're usually physically soft, but pack a shit load of weird, but those horns of theirs let them cheat.
>Like, that spell Velvet hit us with! What the fuck was that anyways? She just made our whole body shut off with a thought. That's some fucking bullshit right there.

>We tilted our head, confused.
>Sorry two, I don't think I get the joke.

>We then let out a sigh, thinking about our bigger problem: we keep fighting alone.
>Suprises I already know how to handle: simple plans, cleverness, and brute force. Remember, we ALMOST won that last fight, and brought Old Appleloosa's guard to it's knees, even after getting shot to hell and cornered, and we did that all on our own.
>We're tough, but you guys are right: there's only so much a lone wolf can power through.
>Even when we had the full group together: Root, Reggie, Dogmeat, and ourselves, we still weren't nearly as capable as we used to be.
>We had dozens of tough, ass kicking badasses at our beck and call back when we ran the Brigade, the Brigade could call on dozens of bandit groups for help, and those could all call on a few dozen gangs of small fries each. We still personally racked up the biggest individual body count in almost all our raids, yeah, but it was a team effort that brought us the win at the end of the day.
>Explosives help, and a sharpshooter would be amazing, but we gotta think bigger than that, a lot bigger.
>We need a clan again, we're an alpha, a leader, a war lord, a boss, not some tough lone wolf.

>Until then... yeah, we need explosives, a lot of them, and a sniper.
>Hopefully Gawd gives us the Talon stamp of approval, because I really want to meet that sniper Reggie and Kage told us about, he sounds perfect: he's great with explosives AND a long range rifle, and he's sneaky to boot.

>We smirked, and let out a laughing snort, amused by the apology.
>What're you apologizing for? That plan was awesome!
>Sure, we don't got power armor or that sweet energy shotgun Calamity and Root are cooking up, but WE'RE a suit of fucking power armor already! Or, the next best thing, anyways, and we got this awesome PipBuck.
>Sure, yeah, the Minigun tripped us up, but we turned that shit around.
>If that's what Enclave Improvisation is all about? I want more of that!
>That Velvet cunt cock blocked us, SHE beat us, that failure wasn't on us, and it definitely wasn't on you.
>and... If I'm being real? If Velvet had decided to just kill us then and there, after appearing from the smoke, getting us dead to rights mid rampage? That would've been pretty badass. That's the sort of Blaze of glory I want to die in.

>Which makes it all the more humiliating that she spared us.

>We sat up, and frowned, a little pissed again.
>Okay, now THAT is an apology I want to hear!
>Wait, hold on, you're right! You guys knew she was in Old Appleloosa! You're how I found out about her!
>I would've liked to know that she had a "shut your body off" spell tucked up her ass! What else can she do with that horn? What's her deal anyways? Why the fuck did she side with a bunch of slavers?

>Oh yeah, definitely
>Maybe, when we're less busy, we can take Little Mac and blow our brains out, test it a bit.
>We sighed
>No... that doesn't feel right.
>Even if we kill ourself on purpose, I still don't want to die like a pussy, I want that fucking glory!
>Maybe we can strip naked, and try doing something really stupid, but exciting.
>I'll have to think about that one.

>We heard the gunfire slow down to a stop, and our attention was back on reality.
>That sounded like the end.
>We heard a few more shots, sporadic, individual, in different places. Those... yeah, those were confirmation shots, execution style, I know that tempo real well.
>A waste of bullets though, you can get way more milage out of a knife or a good pair of talons. Leaves the bodies way bloodier too, that sends a better message.

>We heard voices outside the train car, near the door.
>A female, "Gawd is gonna kill us over this, you know that, right? We got enough heat from Red Eye already. We should've went back for backup, or at least got Gawd's opinion, I can't believe you dragged me into this mess!"
>We heard Reggie reply, "We didn't have the time! You agreed, if we didn't stop this thing before it reached Fillydelphia, that was it: my brother was gone!"

>Holy shit, Reggie! She brought that backup!
>We stood up, and screamed with a smile, "Reggie! We're in here!"

>The conversation was halted, and the door was pulled open.
>Griffin doing the pulling was a slender, agile red griffiness that was a few years older than ourself, and was wearing nothing but a black battle vest lined with pouches, a shoulder holster underneath, some leather paw and claw wraps, some arm bands with talon logos on them, and armed with a magazine fed .308 rifle, and a suppressed 45 auto pistol.
>We were nearly blinded by the morning light pouring in through the doorway.
>Reggie flew into the train, and looked around, frantic, and quickly spotted us, gasping at the sight of Kage.
>The slaves looked confused, and scared, and kept quiet.

>We sighed with relief, "Reggie! Thank the stars, you were right, you were totally RIGHT"
>She scoffed, unhappy, "Well no shit I was right! You're both lucky to be alive after that stunt you pulled!"
>She pulled on the bars to Kage's cage, and then said to her friend, "Hey, Sickle, help me out with this"
>Her slender friend nodded, and climbed aboard. She paused at the sight of us, and said, impressed, "Oh wow, you're big! And... buff!"
>Reggie rolled her eyes, and said, "Hey, Sickle, come on, hurry it up!"
>Sickle gave her head a shake, before moving over to start picking the lock.
>We asked Reggie, "How'd you find us?"
>Reggie gestured towards Sickle, and said, "When we showed up at town, and found a quarter of the place burning, but the fight over, we knew shit went bad. So I made myself scarce, on account of having been with you before, and Sickle asked around to find out what happened"
>Sickle shrugged, "Wasn't hard, you and Kage were all anyone was talking about, that and how much of a hero that sexy Velvet Remedy chick was for stopping you". She popped the lock, and moved to work on ours, she kept looking up from her work, glancing at our body as she continued, "u-uh... anyways, we couldn't spring you while they had you in town. I mean, I'm pretty sneaky, but I'm not suicidal, they knew Reggie was still on the loose, they had you under constant watch. I wanted to go back and get even more help, or try and negotiate Kage's release, but Reggie wanted to hit the train when it left for Filly"
>We asked, "How'd you spring us?"
>She shrugged, "Reggie's plan, something about maximum chaos? We waited behind a building near nest tracks, and when the train passed, we flew up onto the caboose, threw the brakes, and then when they came towards the back to stop us, Hammer hit the front engine, and that's when me and Reggie pushed in"
>We felt both pride in our heart, and smiled, "Aww... you're taking after me, little sis!"
>Reggie groaned, as she got Kage onto her back, "It was dumb is what it was, I just couldn't think of anything else that would work with what we had"
>Our cage was opened, and we smirked, "You got clever is what you did, and I'm proud of ya!"
>"Ugh, shut up, I don't want to talk about this right now", Reggie grunted.
>We then asked the pair of them, "Did either of you see a slender, blue bitch with black wings, a sword, and a riot helmet? Or a dick head with a bolt action rifle and a trenchcoat?"
>They shook their heads, and Sickle said, "I think I saw them in town, but they weren't with the train. In fact, the guards were pretty light on this, it feels like they threw together this trip last minute, off the usual schedule"
>Just for us, nice

>We told Sickle, "Free the others, but watch them! Don't actually let them leave until I say"
>We then stepped off the train, and outside.
>It was morning, we were by some old country train station in the middle of nowhere. There were about a dozen dead bodies strewn about around the train, which itself consisted of a steam engine, a coal car, three boxcars, and a caboose.
>Walking up our way was a full fledged male griffin, who was just a little shorter than us, but not by much. He wore a full body suit of leather armor with Talon arm patches, with a security vest over top that had the letters SHCF on the front and back, and large talon logos sewn over the heart on the front and back, as well as a security helmet with a visor over his head. He had a 45 auto pistol and a few miscellaneous pouches belted around his waist, and resting over his shoulder was an arcane super sledge. A little piece of masking tape over his helmet's forehead said: HAMMER
>We could tell, even under that leather armor, that he was a buff stud.

>We grinned, and started to saunter on up to him. Feeling positive overall, and forgetting our troubles for just a moment.
>Any good pickup lines?
This little shit think she can get away with being this cute?
"Goddamn, is that hammer the only thing you swing around with those muscles?"
+1 Best Pickup line ever
Thank you. It's why I died a virgin before going into Grissy's head.
"You know, with the shit I've been through today, getting hammered sounds like a great idea right about now".

As for Velvet, it's probably not so much "we forgot" as "we underestimated". That's a lot more spine than we were expecting out of her until she gets some more time out in the real world. Guess we just pushed her buttons the wrong way. Anyway, my money is on an anesthetic spell, more-or-less just flooding you with Med-X until you pass the fuck out. Useful for surgical work, but a hair risky if you're improvising with it. The dose she hit us with probably would have killed her three or four times over if she'd used it on herself.
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Still new to drawing pony stuff, but I figured I could try drawing the MC from an old story idea I had that didn't go anywhere.
Looks interesting, care to share a synopsis?
Ring-a-Ding-Ding, Motherfucker.
Well, I recall in the main story that Watcher said he'd seen ponies in the wasteland before that COULD potentially be virtuous or element bearers, but became corrupted by the wasteland over time. The idea I had would be following one of said ponies, the mare in the drawing, taking place a fair bit before the main story. It would have started off like a normal adventure fare, with an overarching goal of trying to topple a major raider warlord. Though over time, as her and her group would have gone through more and more heinous events they would begin to break down and show signs of turning on each other when under all that emotional stress. Kinda show fully how the wasteland can break good ponies down when they're in over their heads.
I didn't have the full story plotted out, but I had some major ideas in mind. Such as the MC coming from a wasteland settlement rather than a stable. It would have been an isolated and well defended settlement, would she'd still have a bit of naivety when entering the wasteland proper. But the biggest thing would be that she wouldn't have the crutch of a pipbuck, meaning no S.A.T.S. to help in gunfights. I wanted to try and make fight scenes feel perilous so I figured that handicap would be a good start to work with.
Huh, that's surprisingly close to some ideas I've had rattling around my own head for a while. We've always heard a lot about how hard it is to be a hero out in the Wasteland, but there's definitely a dearth of stories about the ones that "give up, give in, or die", as PH put it.
Gotta say, he draws some nice teats.
Don't take it personally. Velvet Remedy is stupid enough to be a pacifist. Yes, a pacifist in the equestrian fucking wasteland.

"Hey I have a lot of sexual frustration from being stuck in a cage the whole night, you wanna go bang?"
That's trying too hard, guys. If he wanted to fuck a smartass he wouldn't be out here.
post story
Grissy, We apologized to you, but perhaps you (and we too) gotta apologize to Keggie for getting Rage all beat up. He's pretty worse for wear.

Maybe not the best time to joke and flirt around.
It's that time again.
I wish I had something to post, but unfortunately all I have are the ideas. Nothing actually written down.
pop pop pop watchin muties drop
Go ahead and ramble about them, then. Do it faggot, I dare you.
"I want you to jackhammer my cervix until I'm a dripping mess on your bedroom floor."
Also real shit we should apologize to Reggie for dismissing her concerns earlier and getting her brother into some shit like that. It's not everyday someone trusts you with family and we dropped the ball pretty hard.
>pickup lines
Grissy you're a sperg, but we're even bigger spergs. Just ask for some dick.
Alrighty then. I already posted this little dump here for the moment idea that was behind the story.
After that I suppose I should talk about the main group I had in mind. I really only had 3 in mind for the main group (though technically 4).
Never came up with names, cause naming things has never been a strong point for me.
Firstly, there's the MC depicted in >>37885573

She was a tailoring unicorn mare from a heavily defended and isolated wasteland settlement that was targeted by a particularly massive and organized raider force which drove her away from safety and into the wasteland. While initially distraught, she'd attempt to keep her head up and get her bearings in the new awful world she found herself in. While she'd stsrt out as naive and optimistic in her efforts to make the wasteland just that much better, over time she'd grow more and more jaded and broken by the reality of her situation. Being a tailor, she'd try and fashion her own garments and add various holsters and pockets to her vest to keep track of what she gathered through the story.

The second character would have been the first non-hostile pony she meets in the wasteland. A unicorn stallion scavenger who, unlike the MC, starts out jaded and seeing the wasteland as it is: a shithole with hardly any good ponies within it. Not exactly hostile or aggressive, but apathetic. He'd really only drag the MC along with him after lots of begging. Contrasting the MC, he'd actually grow into a more hopeful and caring pony near the end and would ultimately be the one to call out the MC once the group starts falling apart and she begins losing her moral compass. He'd have most of the crafting know-how of the group, making mostly improvised weapons and gear out of junk.

Lastly was an earth pony mare who travels with a sentry bot, acting as a duo of sorts. She'd play the role of a damsel in distress in hoped or attracting thirsty Raiders, only for her sentry bot to storm in and likewise take whatever they had. Though up joining the group it'd be revealed that the sentry bot doesn't have any ammunition, and is just a scare tactic. So it's be a recurring thing to try and find ammunition for the rolling death machine while scavenging. Otherwise it'd act as mobile cover for small arms fire, a battering ram, pack mule, etc. The mare would have a good knowledge on robotics, having something of a (friendly over time) rivalry with the stallion with her knowledge on more sophisticated machinery compared to his knowledge of DIY shit from junk. He'd often surprise her with the kind of shit he can pull from nothing.
I like those three, their dynamic is cool as hell. I'm also really fond of the idea of a failed group of virtues. Solid 8/10 concept right there
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Thanks! Honestly, talking about it makes me wanna try getting back into writing stuff up for it. Even quickly drew out what the psuedo climax of the MC and the Stallion character's relationship breaking down could be like, when they finally come to blows.
That looks really cool anon
Alright fellas, I'm going in. Wish me luck.
God speed, you crazy bastard
Too small for my taste, my mental image always had her at full princess size.
Are you sure? She's got more cogwheels than mare bit at this point.
Nah, the pussy and womb are still flesh (just reinforced all over), she gets the babies offloaded after she becomes Lunajack.
Power armor is for pussies
>try to play New Vegas
>alt-tab for a second
>screen turns into a fucking strobe light as the game endlessly loops between fullscreen and minimized
>have to open task manager and spam click on end task until it manages to actually register the command

This game is fun, but fuck me are the bugs rough sometimes. It's a good thing I'm not epileptic. I just want to learn more about actual Fallout to go with my pony Fallout.
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mfw I actually paid 30 bucks for this piece of shit.

That quote is fucking based. It's also the only good line spoken by any character in the whole game.

chapcha 2hh0t
>I just want to learn more about actual Fallout to go with my pony Fallout.

Vegas is a good start.
I would recommend 3 next, then try and get into Fallout 1, 2, and Tactics, or at least look into the lore.
I would also HIGHLY recommend checking out the lore for Wasteland, and then maybe give Wasteland 2 and 3 a try. Fallout 1 was originally supposed to be Wasteland 2, but they failed to secure the rights early in development, so they just made their own version, with blackjack and hookers.
Ah yes it's the version of BlowJob that can apparently level towns.
Mostly good suggestions, but I'd advise that instead of playing FO3 next, you should install A Tale of Two Wastelands after you are done with FO:NV. It's a mood that imports all of FO:3 into NV, and let's you choose which story you want to start your character in. As bad as FO:NV is engine-wise, FO:3 is several times worse. It won't be a pure experience since some assets and mechanics (like reloading benches) from NV end up in the Capitol Wasteland, but it won't feel like you're playing a game held together with bailing wire and used gum.
Tale of Two Wastelands is fucking awesome and I play that shit on repeatedly to this day.

also logan's loophole is the best trait other than wild wasteland
This. Though the downside to that is that you will end up very high level by the time you do Fo3's main quest.
If you don't mind being a little overleveled it's fine though.
That sounds great. Thanks, anon.
Not canon
>Imagine a scene.
>It plays out perfectly, the dialogue is perfect, the expressions on point.
>Sit down to start writing it.
>Forget everything but the basic sequence of events.

I hate my short term memory so fucking much bros.
Anon, you have just told the story of my life
Well, there is nothing you can do.
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Imagine slapping her rump.
Anyone here who knows where exactly *Wasteland Economics* takes place?
In the vast wasteland of abandoned fics.
You don't have to imagine if you're a mare
Unfortunately for us, none of us are mares.
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>>Imagine a scene.
>>It plays out perfectly, the dialogue is perfect, the expressions on point.
>This time I'm already sitting.
>Write it.
>It's good enough to inspire another couple of scenes around it.

Do your duty, anons.
>bi Pip
Nigga let the dyke be a dyke

Besides, my comment was more about the fact that this ain't /ptfg/. Even if there were girls on the internet, none of them would be mares.
>daybreaker flaggot
>awful post
Like clockwork
But who's going to have some foals and repopulate the wasteland when everyone is either
>a dyke
>a raider
>or dead?
it's easy, just get dykes to rape the gays until impregnation
You answered your own question, didn't you? The raiders will rape the dykes
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since we passed bump limit, what the hell
>let the dyke be a dyke
That'll only produce ever more raiders and other loonies. This isn't a winning strategy.
Hey, just because I don't want to see any shitty stallions in my cute mare ships doesn't mean I'm a liberal
Homage are you retarded?
>wanting anything to do with a male
I dunno anon, you're starting to sound pretty gay
>shitty stallions
>wanting rape foals instead of stable families
Anon, if there's some faggot around these parts, it's you.
Hey, you're the one who wants foals. I'm just providing answers to your questions.
Simple, have the dykes actually just be bisexual, like Blackjack or that Pepsi Enclave mare.
Obviously, we have to fuck the raiders.
You first have got to fuck the raider out of them though.
They'll fuck the raider out of themselves using you. You just sit there and take it.
>letting the mares use you
Low test. You need to conquer their inner raider with strength and then tame them by puting foals in their wombs.

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