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Prologue; Fallout: Equestria
Topic Started: Mar 25 2013, 08:39 AM (119 Views)
Honey Dew
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SubTerra: a place of hopes, dreams and survival.

A place meant to be a safe haven for all against the savage wasteland, a bastion against all that terrorized the surface. A place founded by the vault dwellers of Vault 205 after its water talisman had dried out, resulting in its automated systems activating and an exodus of the ponies who called the large vault home, though many chose to stay instead of follow into the rigorous, foreign life of the surface they'd never known before.

For life on the surface was brutal, dangerous... Especially in comparison to the easy life living in the vault had been. It was an experience that tore families apart either through conflict or death, an experience that brought out the true face of many ponies. They each had to quickly learn how to survive in the new world they knew nothing about or die trying... just as many had. Between a general lack of food for each pony to eat, a constant fear of being set upon by raiders or the dangerous, mutated wildlife when the vault dwellers were ill-equipped and inexperienced, and having to learn the hard way that the water on the surface was dangerous to drink, they were at a major disadvantage. As such, they needed a haven to get away from these problems as best they could.

Eventually, what ponies that survived found their way into a massive system of subway tunnels that sprawled out underneath the span of a city above, perfect for starting up a new life in relative hiding. After some time of moving through the tunnels, they stationed themselves in the subway's main terminal station, allowing their scouts easy access to the city above to gather supplies while offering the most amount of room they could each live in. The entrances that led to the surface were easily guarded by constructing gates and placing sentry ponies there, limiting the flow of traffic in and out of their new home both now and for in the future, as well as making it easier to stave off any attacks from any ambitious raiders that might have gotten word of the prospering shelter below the city. The tunnels that snaked out from the main terminal were also easily taken care of, either by collapsing or walling off as well.

It took time but after a few years, SubTerra had flourished. It was a lively place considered home by many ponies, some that hadn't even been part of the Exodus of Vault 205. However, because it was growing... that also meant they had to expand their city-below-the-city further and further to accommodate for every new pony that joined them. It was because of one of these expansions that they unleashed what was to be their worst nightmare.

A large pocket of ghouls, terrible fiends warped horribly by the effects of the radioactive megaspells that had burnt through the world and continued to linger, had been tapped into, resulting in the immediate swarm of every creature there. Havoc quickly swept through the very edges of their new city as the ghouls attacked anything that moved and made their way in towards the center of SubTerra. By the time that half of the city had been infested with the ghouls, the leaders of SubTerra gave an order they had no desire to give: to close off access to that half of the city, blocking the ghouls from advancing further in... and locking out any ponies who were unfortunate enough to have not retreated from the ghouls fast enough.


A month had passed by since then. A long, terrifying month that was impossible to forget. The small filly that sat in one of the many service tunnels had done more running, hiding, and fearing for her life than she'd done in the past few years combined--and she had to do it all alone. She had been one of the ponies that had been locked out of city when the ghouls came, and she had no idea what had come of her mother and all of her friends. They all had lived in the half of the city the ghouls had attacked, so she had no idea whether they...

Tears began to well in the normally stoic filly's eyes. She didn't want to think about a life without her mother always nearby, smiling at her, wrapping her hooves around her to comfort her when she needed it, always telling her things would be alright... It was why she had the laser pistol sitting on front of her now, lifelessly lying on the ground waiting to be used for its purpose. A tear that she was unable to control fell down her cheek as she stared at that unfamiliar weapon that she'd only touched when first taking it from the dead pony's body, and when she wanted to get familiar with the sensation of the gun being planted under her chin. She hadn't bothered using it, hadn't bothered inspecting it... she just carried it, waiting for the moment when she could no longer take being scared and alone.

Tearing her gaze away from the laser pistol, the filly looked over to the violin resting against a nearby wall, staring at the much-more familir object as she continued to fight back tears. She reached over with one of her hooves, running a hoof over the wood of the instrument she held so often in the past, the same violin that had been passed down generation to generation in her family... Leaning over a bit, she lifted the violin in her hooves and sat back against the wall as she put the violin under her chin, settling it in a playing position before taking up the bow and resting it across the strings.

The music she made with this instrument... it was one of the things she'd always treasured most in life. She enjoyed offering a form of entertainment to other ponies, seeing the smiles on their faces as a result of the music she made... but she couldn't do that now. Not anymore. She was separated from the only life she knew, and it was now impossible to go back to it. Taking a deep breath, the filly slid the bow across the violin's strings, almost instantly allowing the violin's cry to echo through the nearby tunnels.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=ZQoOuFiP-fU#t=110s


That fact that the violin echoed through the tunnels was the exact reason she had even survived. She had often enjoyed coming here before the outbreak to practice her music and listen to the way it reverberated through the complex--and that was exactly what she'd been doing when all hell had broken loose. Now, it was all she could do to cower in these service tunnels that ran through the subway like a confusing spider web, as well as the various rooms her mother had suggested she stock up in case of emergencies over the years of staying at SubTerra.

The song that Honey played was one that mimicked her loneliness, the sorrow she felt inside, the fear that she no longer had her mother... It was all she could do to make the violin cry for her when she didn't want to do the same. At the same time, it was also a farewell to the rest of the world, one last song she played in dedication to the memory of the friends she lost... and more importantly, for her mother. There was nopony around to listen to her play... but she at least knew if her mother really was dead, then she was listening in now, and knew how much her daughter missed her.

A minute and a half of channeled emotions ensued before the filly removed the bow from its strings, its last note lingering in the air in the tunnels as she slowly pulled the violin away from her chin. She then reverently set it on the ground before her and stared at it for a minute or so before turning her attention back over to the laser pistol. Sighing quietly, her horn glowed a color of violet similar to her eyes which would normally accent them and make them seem to shine in the darkness were her eyes actually open.

The laser pistol rose off of the ground and as she'd practiced so many times before, she set the barrel of the weapon underneath her chin. She silently said goodbye to the world as she sat there like that, said goodbye to the memories of her friends and her mother before pulling the gun's trigger in a final ultimatum.

Click!

Click!

Expressionless, the filly opened her eyes again and stared forward, violet eyes blankly watching the wall in front of her before pulling the pistol away from her chin and setting it back down onto the floor below. She had no idea what was wrong with the gun; she was overall unfamiliar with weaponry--the only thing she was truly familiar with was the violin that laid before her. But now that her final plan had failed, she was left clueless and still alone, not sure of what to do with herself now...
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Siren
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The subway tunnels were dark. That was all they could be. Dark. They echoed with the hoofsteps of the pony that walked just to the side of the track, following them for however long they should go. The tapping of the hooves on the concrete sounded like a steady beat of some sort of song, but the song was not rushed. It took its sweet time. It had nowhere else to go now, after all. It was trapped in these dark halls, among many other things. The shrieks of ghouls, the occasional scream of a pony meeting their end with the sound of gunshots and laser blasts breaching her ears like thunder.

These occasions grew less and less frequent as time went on. Gunrose had long been travelling these empty tunnels, trying to find some way out of them. Still she walked alone. Not even her shadow could follow her at this point. The darkness had claimed it already too, and she could see hints of it struggling to find her whenever she passed one of the emergency chemical lights, and even those were slowly fading away to the dark.

This world had gone nineteen. That was all she could say about it. She could honestly say to herself that she preferred the open wasteland that lay scorched under the hot sun compared to these dank and dark tunnels so many meters under the ground. It had been only a month ago since she decided to visit the city of SubTerra, having heard about it from a travelling merchant as she traded with him for a few more days worth of food. Not that that really mattered now, this place was obviously meant to be her tomb now.

The gods pissed down the back of your neck every single day, but they only drown you once. Or so the saying goes. She started drowning as soon as she realized that there was no way out of this place. She had been sealed off from the rest of the world that she knew, left to rot in the dark with the ghouls that continued to hunt the stragglers that were too slow or didn’t have enough time, like her. So she walked. That is all that she has done for these past few weeks. Keep walking, find a service tunnel to hide in and sleep with one eye open, eat some food, drink another little bit of her water, keep moving.

Enthusiasm to keep moving, however, was running bare. Initially she thought that navigating this network of tunnels could be just as easy as the maintenance tunnels of the Stable she grew up in, but no. There was a difference between navigating a place that one grew up in and a place that she was forced into, without a clue of what to do or where to go. She found herself taking longer to get herself up and moving, not from the bouts of hunger or thirst that came from extreme rationing, but from the sheer feeling of dark and empty hopelessness.

Gunrose finally stopped in her tracks after only a few hours of walking, letting out a heavy sigh as she scuffed a hoof against the ground, the thought once again crossing her mind that she was going to die here. There was no hope. If there truly was another exit as she believed initially, she would have been out of here by now, but of course, she knew nothing of this place, and she very well could have been walking in circles this entire time, unable to tell if she was because it was too dark to discern any landmarks.

Her ears flicked about on her head, forwards and backwards, trying to find some hint of a clue as to where she should go next, seeing as her current path was just leading her nowhere, and she furrowed her brow as she heard what sounded like a violin. Her attention focused on this sound, trying to figure out what it could be. Originally, she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. It had been a long time since her last steady hit; of course she would start hallucinating and hearing things.

The sound did not go away however, the sad tune persisted for the longest time, and Gunrose could only stand there and listen to the only thing that she could say she wanted the tunnels to echo around to her. Was this what a pony was supposed to hear when they were being called to the next life? Was the light at the end of the tunnel going to appear in front of her? Wishful thinking, but it was a nice thought.

The music stopped with one last note pealing through the tunnels, and the warmth that had been growing in her heart had started to dissipate. The song sounded lonely, desperate, and longing, but at the same time, defeated. Where did it come from? There had to be somepony that played that music, and she was not about to spend another day in these tunnels alone, despite what she promised herself all those months ago.

She could swear it came down from the dark hall to her right, one of the tunnels that she tried to avoid simply because they were so tight and if she were to get surrounded by ghouls, it would be the end of her. There was no point in worrying about that now; she was going to die down here anyway. She just wanted to be able to talk to somepony, somepony that wasn’t dead or herself.

So she set off down the service tunnel, walking straight with a little more vigor to her steps. Her anxiety to meet the pony that could make such beautiful music was overwhelming, but all of her hopes were soon crushed when she reached a fork in the tunnels, three different ways she could choose, a one in three chance of being right. There was no way she could accurately judge which way was the better way to go, and her spirits were already shattered enough by the darkness of this tunnel.

So with a sad huff, she leaned up against the nearest wall and slid down it, sitting on the cold concrete as she closed her eyes. Her frustration turned to sadness, and suddenly she could understand the violinist behind the music. How sad it was to know that your end was coming, how sad it was to know that you had no other choice but to spend your last moments alone, and how sad it was that nopony would remember her or carry on her name. A lone tear fell from her blue eyes, and slowly she started to hum to herself, gradually picking up in volume until she was singing about as loudly as any conversation, and it carried so well in these tunnels too, it was almost haunting to her just what kind of song depression and fear can conjure up.

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Honey Dew
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The filly was pulled out of her thoughts by a voice... a singer, whose song was so hauntingly beautiful it sent chills running along her legs and down her spine. It was a song just as lonely as hers had been, just as filled with despair and defeat--though the tone and inflection just didn't seem to fit with the voice. There were no lyrics... but it was more meaningful than many songs she'd heard before. And just one thought shot through the filly's mind as she listened: she wanted to meet this mare that was singing this way.

Quickly lifting her violin back up in her hooves, she set it under her chin and planted the bow on the strings once more, quietly letting it slide over the strings a few times to find the right octave to mimic the song with, though the song she played took on a slight variation as if to sympathetically accent the mare's. When she'd done so, the filly began a song of her own that accented the song already playing, its notes almost crying a plea to the haunting singer. Soon after, her song took a slight crescendo, almost as if calling out to this mare, challenging her to come find this new source of music.
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Siren
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Gunrose continued her song in the crossroads of the service tunnels, the only thing keeping her company being the dimly glowing orange light that hung from the ceiling. It was what she looked at as the back of her head rested against the wall behind her. At this point, she was just letting the notes that came to her out. There were no lyrics, simply pure emotion that came from her. She didn’t care if it attracted the wrong kind of attention; it felt good to release the emotions that plagued her since she became trapped here.

When she paused for a breath and to hear her voice echo throughout the tunnels again, she heard the violin once more, matching the last few measures of notes that she made perfectly. Whoever was playing this music was close enough to hear her, even with the tunnels carrying her voice a little farther than usual. The crescendo at the end felt more like an open invitation, and Gunrose stood up, a look of bewilderment on her face.

This mystery musician was trying to help her find her way through this maze, that was the only reason that was the only reason that could have been. Just listening to the echoes of that last note, she could determine that wherever it was coming from, it was somewhere down the tunnel on her left. Immediately and without a second thought, her hopes renewed once more with the prospect of meeting this musician once more, she started walking down the tunnel.

She did not stop singing the same song either; she needed to keep going for the musician. Like it or not, the solos had become a duet, and if one of them were to stop, the other would be lost and confused, no longer able to continue that same song without their partner. As she sung, she listened closely at every intersection that she came to, the sound of the violin slowly but surely getting stronger the closer she got. Her pace started to pick up in excitement after a few intersections. She was so close; her hopes for no longer being alone about to be reached--

When her singing was cut off with a startled yelp as she entered the next intersection, and three ghouls looked over to her from their places around the room. As soon as they realized that she was not one of them, all three of them let out shrieks and airy moans as they started to come at her, arms outstretched to grab at her.

Breathing hard, she stepped back and raised her right hoof, leveling the magnum that was strapped to her hoof with the head of the nearest one. The cylinder and barrel gleamed in the faint orange light, catching into the artistic scratching on the cylinder as she held her breath, compensating for the swaggering monstrosity as she pulled the trigger. The loud thunderclap of the magnum pierced the tunnels as the bullet left the barrel in an explosion of fire, travelling through the air and striking the ghoul just above its right eye.

The bullet bored into its skull, leaving a gaping entrance wound it continued its way through the soft brain tissue and exiting out the back, leaving an even bigger exit wound and spraying blood and bits of gray matter over the other two ghouls that seemed oblivious to the death of their comrade. She did not stop there; already her sights were on the next closest, and once more the gun’s heavy booms marked the death of another, and then another ghoul, the three bodies crumpling to the ground as a painful silence fell. The ringing in her ears lingered as she kept her gun pointed at the three of them, making sure that they would not be getting up to follow her as she stepped over them.

The violin had stopped, and Siren could only imagine what this encounter sounded like to the musician. They had to be reassured that she was all right in the hopes that they will continue playing and guide her through the last few crossroads to find whoever it was. Once more she opened up, letting her long notes echo down every possible path, waiting for any sort of notes that would come in return.
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Honey Dew
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To the filly's relief, the mystery singer was moving, moving to find who had begun playing with her. It was almost not even noticable, but the singer's voice grew louder and louder with each measure they played together, this impromptu song the only connection between two ponies that had never met before in their lives. Both parts of the song seemed to pick up a hint of hope and excitement, though to keep in spirit with the original song, its overall tone was one of sadness and despair.

Suddenly, however, her partner stopped. With an ugly screech of surprise, as did the filly's song as she swiveled her ears around, desperately trying to find any sort of sound coming from the tunnels around her to signal what had happened. All she heard was silence... until the loud gunfire rang out through the subway, eliciting a terrified yelp from the filly as she ducked down to the ground below, trembling as she clamped her hooves over her ears. Despite all this time, she still wasn't used to the sound of gunfire. It was something that had happened only a few times while they were travelling across the surface, and something she'd been around even less in her time in SubTerra; although she had never known what a gun was while she was living in the Stable, she learned quickly about them when they'd all left, and figured out soon that they were dangerous weapons used to take lives.

Now, here it was, happening again. Three shots fired out through the tunnel, somewhere relatively nearby, each causing the filly to flinch and press her hooves harder against her ears. Even when silence had fallen again, she continued to cower on the floor, body still trembling as a result of the sudden fear that she'd been subjected to. When she did finally decide to tentatively remove her hooves from her ears, she was met with the voice of the singer yet again, sounding almost desperate as she searched for the one who'd been playing with her before.The filly continued to lie on the ground for a few moments, trying to decide whether she really wanted this mare to find her now. She could sing, and the filly didn't want to be alone... but she also had a weapon, and the filly didn't know whether this mare was really good or not.

Deciding to take a chance--and keeping in mind that she'd already tried to kill herself--the filly slowly pushed herself back into a sitting position and with trembling hooves, lifted the violin once more as she did her best to steady it under her chin. She did a poor job at it, even when she brought her other shaking hoof up and set the bow on the strings once more. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, she slid the bow across the strings again, though this time her shaking limbs made it quite hard to do--and it showed in the song she played again. It was nowhere near as clean as before as a few of her notes screeched or missed, causing the filly to well up slightly in frustration. This continued for her until she heard footsteps at the end of the service tunnel she had taken shelter at, the voice that had been singing now just a few yards away.

As best as she could, the filly put her fear behind a brave face and stared down the tunnel in the direction the singing had stopped, waiting anxiously to see this pony that sung so beautifully.
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Siren
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Siren let her voice ring out through the tunnels, once more listening for some sort of reply back to follow the echoes again. For a long time this didn’t happen, and she feared that the musician was scared by the thought of the fact that Gunrose had a gun. Siren knew that she used her gun for self-defense in this instance, but the musician was not here to see that. For all they knew, the singer was jumped by a bandit, or mauled by the ghouls that had beset her, and playing any more would attract even more danger to her.

The feeling of dread continued in a pleading manner in her song, searching for the song of that musician to guide her, and finally it came back, but it was shaky and the notes were not as pure as before. Siren let out a sigh of both relief and despair; at least the musician was brave enough to keep playing with her, but now that she was, Siren’s fears that she had scared the musician had been realized. She only hoped that she could convince them that she wasn’t a bandit or a raider, but merely an unfortunate travelling gunslinger.

She followed the song once more, plodding along a little more carefully this time to hopefully not run into anymore ghouls this time. She was lucky that she didn’t stumble right over one of them; they would have had her pinned and flayed limb from bloody limb in a heartbeat, and she wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. Her desire for intelligent company had overwhelmed her and nearly led to her demise, but now that she had her head back on her shoulders, she could be a little more careful.

The last few turns and twists, she was nearing the source, the sound did not sound as refracted as before when she was far away, but sounded as though it were right beside her. She turned the last corner, and let the last note fade into the dark as she looked down the tunnel to behold the musician that was standing under one of the faint orange lights, holding the violin to her chin and looking back at Siren blankly, not a single hint of an expression on her face.

The gunslinger blinked a few times as she looked at the mare, cocking her head to the side in bewilderment. Of all the types of ponies that she could have imagined to be behind the music, the one she least expected was a child such as the one in front of her. It had been near a month since the tunnels were sealed off, which meant that if this child was still here, she had to have survived those long days either by herself or having to have watched her friends and family around her die. Siren could not figure which one was worse.

This dark gray mare with jet black hair that stood in front of her, wearing a Stable jumpsuit very similar to the one that she herself used to have, save for the number pressed on the side. The Pipbuck on her left leg glowed faintly, waiting to be woken up from its sleep mode to do some sort of task. Siren’s had broken a long time ago, but she never thought to replace it, even though the usefulness of having one could not be underestimated.

Taking a hesitant step forward, Siren took off her hat, letting her cherry red mane fall around her face and allowing her friendly expression to show forth as she spoke up in an equally friendly tone, “Forgive me if I have a puzzled expression child, but I am still trying to find if my imagination has run wild.” She paused once more to give the mare another look over as she continued in her odd rhyming way, “Is there anypony else with you, a father or mother? I could not imagine you living down here this long without another.”

“You play the violin like an angel, young one. Without your music, finding my way to you simply would not be done. Siren is what I have come to be called in the wastes above, and Siren I will be in this alcove. “ She sat down in front of the young mare, looking her in her violet eyes, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, which might have been a little hard with the revolver still strapped to her leg, but she was not about to take it off until she knew it was safe. “Your playing was the reason I came, long have I not spoken to anypony since we were sealed off here; I thought I was alone. What is your name?”
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Honey Dew
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So there she was: the mare with the golden voice was standing not far away, staring right back at the filly. A light brown mare with.... a cherry-colored mane? That was a strange color; she'd seen only a couple other ponies in the Stable she came from with a colored mane similar to that. The filly continued to stare at the mare that appeared, still expressionless as she gently lowered her violin back down onto the ground. Then, she began to speak. She asked forgiveness for her puzzled expression for some reason, something about her imagination running wild. The filly didn't see what that had to do with anything, but there were some strange ponies out there...

The mare then asked if there was anypony else with her, causing her gaze to falter slightly and lower down to the ground even as she continued to speak. She complimented the filly on how she played her violin--and that's when she realized why the mare sounded so weird. She was rhyming everything she said. Confused, the filly glanced back up to the pony in front of her--Siren, she'd called herself--and listened a little more intently to how she spoke. Her voice even when she wasn't singing was pretty and easy to listen to. She watched as Siren approached her before sitting down in front of her and the filly just stared right back into her deep blue eyes, her own face still not having changed from its neutral expression.

"My name is Ho... Bitter Sweet," the filly said after Siren finished speaking. "And I have not spoken with anypony for some time either... I do not even remember how long it has been." Normally, Bitter's words might have been shorter than this with somepony she didn't know... but for some reason, she seemed to make a special exception for the mare she played that beautiful song with, despite the fact that she had a gun and still had it in her hoof. "But you sing beautifully. I have not heard anypony sing like that before...

"Nor have I really heard anypony rhyme like you do. I... like it. It is pretty. But I can only wonder why? Do you do it all the time?" She paused then, remembering the only question Bitter hadn't asked yet: if she was alone. Lowering her gaze again, she searched the floor below her as she responded. "And no, there is nopony with me. My father died on... on the surface, when we had to leave the Stable... And my mother... I don't know where she is. Ever since the ghouls came..." To her dismay, tears began to well in her eyes again. She thought about her mother, where she could be, whether she was safe, if she was still alive or not...
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Siren sighed sympathetically as the filly lowered her head catching a little glimpse of her eyes starting to water as they welled up with tears. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but it was an answer she couldn’t help but expect. It was difficult enough to survive alone down here, but groups just attracted the attention of ghouls and drained food and water rations too quickly. Being a child, while she couldn’t fight off any ghouls, she would need less to eat and drink.

Or did she do any fighting? As Siren looked around the area, she spotted the laser pistol on the ground right beside Bitter. Has she used that before? Siren had no way of knowing, but if this mare was capable of self-defense, then maybe she was underestimating her. It wasn’t easy to underestimate emotions and tears though, and Siren could see that the child might need a bit of time, but she was trying to be so strong in the face of it all, it almost broke Siren’s heart.

“It’s why folk around these parts call me Siren, Bitter. I have been said to have the voice that draws ponies to their demise, it’s a bunch of horseradish and idle chatter.” If only she knew of Siren’s luck with friends these days. “Playing with words also keeps you sharp,” she emphasized this by tapping a hoof to the side of her head, “I could stop if it annoys you, it’s just a little thing I do as I find it very amusing too.”

Looking down at her right leg, she flipped out the cylinder of her revolver and shook out the three bullets and the three spent casings, adding the casings to a small glass jar to be reloaded later. She replaced the three bullets in the cylinder, and added three more from her bandolier of thirty. She pushed the cylinder back into the revolver with a satisfying clicking noise, giving it a little spin before setting her hoof back down. Six bullets loaded, twenty-seven bullets to spare. Twenty-six, can’t forget the way out.

When she finished this, she placed her left hoof on the filly’s shoulder, patting it reassuringly as she said, “I’m sorry about the loss of your dad, and I am sure your mother is still out there, somewhere to be had, but we can’t stay here much longer. I ran into three of those walkers on my way here, and there are bound to be more nearby, their numbers stronger. We need to get somewhere a little safer; do you know of any such place? I’ll protect ya on the way there if ya let me keep pace, unless ya know how to use that laser gun...”
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Honey Dew
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Clenching her teeth, Bitter rose one of her hooves and angrily rubbed the tears out of her eyes as Siren began talking again. As much as she hated thinking that her mother was no longer alive, she didn't want to break down in front of Siren. She had to be strong, if at least in memory for the one mare she'd looked up to for all of her life, no matter how hard that may have been. So after wiping the tears from her eyes she looked back up to the mare in front of her, once more wearing the most neutral expression she could muster just in time to see Siren reload her gun and place the spent bullet casings in a glass jar.

For the first time since Siren had joined Bitter in the tunnel, she turned her gaze down to the weapon on her hoof and actually looked at it, though thanks to the very dim glow that gave their only light, she couldn't really see the weapon all that well... although she could make out that there was something on the gun--what looked like etchings on it. It interested her so maybe she could ask Siren if she could see it later... if there even was a later. Regardless of the fact, the weapon did help with Siren's overall look along with the duster and wide-brimmed hat, giving her a rather dependable and rugged look.

Siren then placed her hoof on Bitter's shoulder, causing her to glance over to it briefly before looking back to Siren, hardening her expression slightly when she sympathized with the loss of her father, and saying she was sure her mother was still out there somewhere. If only... She agreed that they shouldn't stay where they were any longer though. Bitter had already stayed in the tunnel for too long already, and Siren did had a point with the ghouls she'd killed nearby. When the laser pistol Bitter had was mentioned, she glanced over to it before levitating it over to her and aiming it at the ceiling, only to pull the trigger with another audible click!

"Even if I did know how to use it, it does not work; and I have no idea why. I only just found out it doesn't work, too..." She offered a shrug to Siren at that before levitating the gun's holster over to her and strapping it to the front leg that didn't have her Pipbuck on it. She then set the laser pistol in its holster before levitating her violin's sling over to her as well and set it across her back. When she made sure the sling was secure on her body she carefully placed the violin inside of it and turned to Siren when it was tucked safely inside.

"I have rooms all over this part of the tunnels that my mother encouraged me to keep supplied with food and first aid supplies," Bitter said as she turned and began walking out of the service tunnel. "I never really understood why, but I never really complained about it. I always enjoyed coming out here to try and figure out which tunnels echoed the best... I... I think there might be some more ponies kind of nearby, but... I do not know. I heard some gun fire..." She paused, lifting her Pipbuck up to where she could look at it before returning her hoof to the ground. "...A few days ago, but I was too scared to go and look, and I did not even know if they could be trusted. I... did not want to walk right into a group of raiders..."

As they walked, Bitter glanced over to Siren once more and watched the mare as they moved. "And you do not have to stop rhyming. I did say it was pretty. I think it is interesting. Different. Fascinating... I enjoy it. But I will not force you to do it if you wish to stop." Her gaze then moved to the gun Siren carried and stared at it for a few moments before looking to the walls around her as she brightened the screen on her Pipbuck so they could use it as a light.

"Where did you get your gun? Did you find it? Make it? ...Steal it?" She asked, gaze still searching the walls nearby. After a few minutes of walking she spotted what she'd been looking for: a sign, saying which tunnel they were currently walking in. Almost abruptly Bitter turned to another tunnel nearby, saying only "this way" to Siren as she now moved down this new tunnel instead.
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Siren
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Siren stood up and followed close behind Bitter Sweet, not wanting to lose sight of the filly in the dark. It was still hard to see the dark coloured mare in these tunnels, even with the Pipbuck’s glowing screen to light up the area in front of her to some extent. Her focus though, was more on the tunnels in front of them, with the occasional glance behind them to make sure that they weren’t being followed. These glances were very brief though, taking her attention off the mare at the wrong time could--

Where did she go? Siren looked around in the intersection before glancing in the direction of the emotionless voice that told her “this way” and immediately trotted back after it, marveling and wondering how Bitter seemed to know these tunnels like the back of her hoof. She must have come down here often to stock these storage rooms that she was talking about with food and to play her instrument. A strange bit of planning on her mother’s part, stocking these rooms with food though…

As they walked, Bitter asked about Siren’s revolver and she quickly glanced down at her left leg where it was strapped. The steel revolver, scratched and etched with a little pick that Siren kept on her, scratching it with flowing and curving marks that didn’t take away from the imposing image of the gun, but gave it a more stylized and elegant look. Not that it mattered in the end; a gun is a gun no matter what it looked like, but it was her gun now, and she would do what she would to it to make it her own.

“My magnum belonged to my dad, and his dad before him. I inherited it when he passed away in Stable-19. The water became irradiated somehow when I left to scout for the rest of the colony; his death as well as the others went all unforeseen.” She remained quiet for a bit after this, she had come to terms with her father’s death a long time ago, but it was not something that she enjoyed talking about either.

Deciding to change the subject, Siren spoke up once more, once more noting the laser pistol and how it did not work when Honey had demonstrated it to her, “Where did you get that energy gun? It doesn’t work at all, yet you have it. Why do you keep it when its use to you is none?” Maybe she kept it for some sort of intimidation factor to scare away anypony that wandered too close to her, but she seemed very easy with allowing Siren to approach her. Maybe that was just the fact that she liked her?

Their twisting and turning paths eventually came to a heavy door that was out of the way and didn’t look locked. Bitter pushed it open with a little effort, Siren pitching in by leaning on it with one leg. The door swung open with a slight creak to reveal a somewhat spacious closet, no doubt meant to hold an assortment of materials for maintaining whatever used to run down these tunnels, but now the dusty shelves were stacked with a few assortments of canned and dry food, as well as bottled water and juice boxes.

Siren stepped into the closet alongside Bitter, the two of them in there making space scarce. It was the size of an average bathroom, so it was easy enough to maneuver around in, and it felt kind of cozy, being in such a small and safe place while nightmares walked just outside. After looking around, Siren couldn’t help but whisper, as the air was so close and still, and she didn’t need to speak any louder, “So us this where you have been staying all these weeks? Canned food, water, enough to last you days… you really do listen to your mother when she speaks.”

She sat down by the wall that was opposite of the door, a cursory glance to her left showing her a blanket, a pillow, and something that seemed to be under the blanket, she couldn’t tell what. Bitter seemed to have been living in this particular room for a while now, but it wouldn’t be long before she ran out of food here and had to go elsewhere. After a few minutes of thinking and looking around the shelves, Siren asked, “May I use some of your water to fill my reserve? If you don’t want me to, I won’t take anything I don’t deserve.”

After a few more moments of silence and thought, she said in a more serious tone, “You know, eventually you are going to run out of food and water. Do you think it’s time you should maybe try to find some more ponies to tag along with? It’s what I’m trying to do, as well as find a way out of here, but there is better survival with numbers. I can go with you if you want, but you can’t forever be a squatter.”
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Honey Dew
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Apparently Bitter wasn't the only one here who'd lost her father. Siren's response to her question was that the gun belonged to both her grandfather and father and she came to own it when the water in her stable had irradiated and he died, leaving her alone--she hadn't said a word about her mother, so either the mare was still alive, or... Bitter turned her gaze over to Siren as they walked, watching her for a moment before returning her gaze forward as Siren looked over to comment on the laser pistol strapped to her leg.

"I got the gun from a dead pony... I guess he died from ghouls; I don't know. He kind of smelled when I searched him, and I did not particularly wish to stick around to see if he really did die from ghouls. As for why I have it..." Bitter paused for a moment, her mouth open as if she was going to continue but instead decided to close her mouth, falling silent as she led Siren through various turns through the dark until eventually, a familiar door came in sight. Heading straight for that door she tried to push it open as best she could and with a little help from Siren, she stepped through into the small room beyond before shoving the door closed again.

So there it was: Bitter's home away from home. Or at least, one of them. She'd stayed in a couple of them but this one had been the most appealing to her, perhaps because it was such a small space and she felt the safest there. She glanced to Siren as the mare whispered, her voice easily carried in the small, quiet place Bitter called her shelter. She offered a slight nod in response to Siren's question before stepping over to her make-shift bed, only to pause when she got there when the mare asked if she could have some of her water. She was running a little bit low in this spot as it was, but... Bitter's horn glowed a rich violet color similar to her eyes, giving them the appearance of glowing as well in the darkness as one of the water bottles resting on the shelves levitated over to Siren, waiting for her to snatch it out of the air.

After that, Bitter sat down next to her bed and lifted the covers, only to produce a ragged and worn-down stuffed doll. Bitter then wrapped her legs around the object, eliciting a very wheezy and dying squeak from it as the filly that held it looked over to Siren, who then mentioned maybe finding other ponies to tag along with. Bitter shrugged slightly at that suggestion, her legs wrapping a little bit tighter around the doll she held. "I have thought about it, but I do not know where to go and... I am a little scared. I do not want to be, but... those ghouls..." Bitter hesitated at that before shaking her head slightly and continuing.

"I will go with you, if you will let me play with you more. I do not think I have gotten the chance to play with another pony like that, and I enjoyed it. Regardless, yes, this is one of the places I have stayed ever since the ghouls came. My mother told me to hoard supplies in more than one place--said it was better safe than sorry. And yes, I listen to her. She means the world to me..." And she was gone.

"...As for why I have the gun," Bitter said after a moment of hesitation. "I... As I said, I did not find out it did not work until recently--just before you found me. My mother and my friends are dead, I am scared, and I was alone..." Yet again, Bitter paused as more tears came to her eyes, causing her gaze to turn away from Siren and down to the floor. "...And things were not getting any better. So I grabbed the gun, deciding I would... would take my life when I could not take it anymore..."
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Siren gasped a little as Bitter mentioned that she had originally planned on using the gun only to end her own life. There was more to that though, wasn’t there. She already knew that it wouldn’t work when she demonstrated the laser pistol to Siren, so that means she had used it already. She didn’t just plan on committing suicide, she attempted it too, and the shame from her admitting it could already be seen on the filly as she looked away from the gunslinger.

She wanted to hug the filly close to her and tell her that she would be okay and things would get better, but she wasn’t sure herself if it would get any better from here. Bitter did get to meet Siren though, and she did say that she wanted to play with her when she could. With a sympathetic look on her face, she placed a hoof on her shoulder once more and asked, “… but you aren’t going to do that anymore, right? I only just met you, and you are a pretty amazing filly who is just so bright.”

“It would be an honor to have you come with me so that I could sing with you, Bitter Sweet.” As she said this, the little voice in the back of her head questioned what she was doing. She knew this would only end in her own emotional suffering when all was said and done; she promised herself that she wouldn’t put herself through that kind of pain again. But it wasn’t for her own good this time though, was it?

No, it was for the child sitting beside her, and giving her something happy to live for, which was just as good if not exactly the same as saving a life. She looked the teary-eyed filly up and down, stuffed toy, violin, pipbuck, and all, and smiled to herself. Despite how mature that this mare tried to act, she was still a child, and the juxtaposition of the stone-faced expression with the child holding onto the stuffed toy like Siren would have when she was younger was just too precious.

She distracted herself by taking the water bottle offered to her and carefully filling up her canteen with it, cautious to not waste a single drop of the precious liquid during the transfer. When she finished with it, she looked back at Bitter Sweet and the doll she held, blinking as the doll made a dry and wheezy squeak when the filly shifted a little. It sounded like it was well worn, having survived many nights worth of hugs and endured many tears and confessions of grief. How symbolically similar it was compared to what the world had become, struggling to keep what little function it had, but would probably never become any better than what it was.

“Does she have a name?” Siren asked suddenly, pointing to the stuffed doll, “she seems to be very precious to you all the same.” As Bitter answered, Siren stood up and looked over the rest of the rations, spotting a small set of saddlebags fit for a child. When she finished mentioning the doll’s name, if it had one, she looked down to Bitter and said with a smile as she walked over to the door and asked, “Is she going to be coming with us? I don’t think we will be coming back here for a very long time.” She paused for a bit before gesturing her over to the door with her head and said, “Come on, lets get as much of this food and water packed into our bags as we can. We’re going to go see if those ponies are friendly.”
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Honey Dew
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Without turning her gaze away from the floor, Bitter only shook her head when Siren asked if she wasn't going to try and take her life again. As long as she had somepony else to stick with, somepony like Siren, then she no longer had any reason to do so. Her mother was still gone, but... This was something she would have wanted, right? To see her survive... Her eyes only rose when Siren mentioned it being an honor having Bitter come with her and for a moment she stared blankly at the mare before nodding slightly in thanks and reaching up with a hoof to wipe away the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

Quietly, Bitter watched Siren as she poured one of the last few water bottles she had left into her canteen, idly squeezing her doll just a little bit tighter around the time Siren set the empty bottle down on the floor beside her. This resulted in the mare looking up to the doll as if seeing it for the first time and Bitter feeling a little awkward as the attention was shifted suddenly to her and the doll. She gave yet another slight nod to Siren's next question as she turned the doll in her hooves so she could look at its ragged face.

"Her name is Squeakers," she said fondly, gently running a hoof over the shabby fabric. "My mother made her for me when I was still a foal. I... I kind of think of her as my good luck charm..." Almost as if a little ashamed at admitting that, she turned the doll back around and hugged it back against her with another squeak. She glanced over to Siren as she asked if Squeakers would be coming with them and Bitter responded with, "I bring her wherever I go. I just... didn't want her to see..." She cut herself short before she could finish the sentence and almost as if sensing this Siren spoke up, suggesting they pack as much food and water as they could.

Nodding again, Bitter gently set Squeakers down onto her bed before levitating a set of small, black saddlebags over to her. She then tied them down to her flank and made sure it was secure before levitating one can after another to herself, only to stuff them in alternating bags. When she felt she had packed enough of that, she levitated some of the water bottles she had left to her and stuffed them in her saddlebags as well, though she only managed to get three of them inside without taking up enough room for the last thing she needed to pack: her bobby pins, and a screwdriver. She pulled these items from a nearby metal box and set them inside of her saddlebags.

When both Siren and Bitter felt they had packed a suitable amount of food and drink, Bitter picked Squeakers back up and tied her to to the violin sling across Bitter's back, the sling apparently having had its own special place for the doll to have been set. She then left the small room with Siren, giving it one last look before the door closed again, sealing it off from Bitter's view and marking the start of this new adventure she was to have with the mare beside her...

She just hoped that she wouldn't come to regret it at some point.
Edited by Honey Dew, Mar 26 2013, 05:38 AM.
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